DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 BY 
 
 CHEISTIA^" EEID, p 
 
 AUTHOR OF " VALEBIE AYLMEE," " HOBTON HOUSE," "NINA'S ATONEMENT," ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NEW YOEK: 
 D. APPLETOK AND COMPANY, 
 
 549 & 551 BEOADWAY. 
 1874.
 
 ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, 
 
 BY D. APPLETON & CO., 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
 
 DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Ah, wasteful woman, ehe who may 
 
 On her sweet self set her own price, 
 Knowing he cannot choose but pay, 
 
 How has she cheapened paradise ; 
 How given for naught her priceless gift ; 
 
 How spoiled the bread and spilled the wine, 
 Which, spent with due respective thrift, 
 
 Had made brutes men, and men divine 1 " 
 
 Ox one of the most quiet and deeply- 
 shaded of the shaded streets which are the 
 boast of the pleasant Southern city of Alton, 
 stands a handsome double house with a por- 
 tico in front, and wide piazzas on the side, 
 running the whole length of the building, 
 and overlooking a flower-garden of consider- 
 able extent and great beauty. 
 
 Opening by French windows upon the 
 lower of these piazzas is the breakfast-room, 
 into which, on a certain bright morning of 
 May the 5th of the month, if any one likes 
 to be particular roses of almost countless 
 number and variety were sending their fra- 
 grance, together with the buoyant air and 
 golden sunshine. The breakfast-table, spread 
 with delicate china and bright silver, occupied 
 the centre of the floor ; but as yet no mem- 
 ber of the household had made an appear- 
 ance on the scene. Despite the fact that the 
 sun had been about the business of lighting 
 and warming the earth long enough, it seemed, 
 to rouse all sluggards from repose ; despite 
 the impatience of the cook, whose muffins 
 were hopelessly falling, or the gloomy face of 
 the footman, who held punctuality to be a 
 cardinal virtue in masters and mistresses, 
 
 the clock chimed half-past nine before the 
 first step a leisurely, creaking, somewhat 
 important step was heard descending the 
 broad, shallow staircase. 
 
 " I'm blest if there isn't master at last I " 
 said Robert, sardonically. " A nice time for 
 a man what calls himself a business -man 
 to be comin' down to breakfast ! No ! " as 
 the cook expressed her anxiety anew with re- 
 gard to the muffins " I ain't a-goin' to take 
 up the things till they ring for 'em. He 
 won't want his breakfast till somebody comes 
 down to keep him company; he's one of 
 the sociable kind what don't like to eat by 
 hisself." 
 
 The gentleman thus characterized mean- 
 while entered the breakfast-room, newspaper 
 in hand and eye-glass on nose. " A fine-look- 
 ing, portly gentleman ! " was the usual popu- 
 lar verdict on Mr. Middleton ; and, for once, 
 the popular verdict was an eminently just 
 one. He stood six feet in the elaborately- 
 worked slippers which he wore, and which 
 were innocent of heels, while his size was in 
 proportion to his height. He had a fresh, 
 ruddy complexion, well-cut features of the 
 nondescript kind, which we see on ninety- 
 nine American faces out of a hundred, and 
 keen, brown eyes, with a flash of humor in 
 them. Add to this his brown hair, turning 
 gray, and his brown whiskers, worn d TAn- 
 fflaise, and you have a picture of the man as 
 he sat down by one of the open windows, and 
 began to glance over the newspaper, while he 
 ; waited for the appearance of some feminine 
 ; body who could pour out his coffee and give 
 a friendly countenance to the empty table, 
 
 452573
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Eobert having been right in saying that he 
 was a sociable man, who did not like to take 
 his breakfast alone. 
 
 He had not long to wait. Before the 
 clock over the mantel had chimed another 
 quarter, a lighter step was heard descending 
 the staircase, and the sweep of a feminine 
 dress sounded across the hall. A minute 
 later a slender, graceful woman of middle 
 age entered the room a woman who had 
 probably never been pretty, but who had 
 plainly always been distinguished-looking, and 
 under whose manner of well-bred repose a 
 great deal of nervous force was latent. She 
 wore a becoming trifle of a morning-cap on 
 her glossy, dark hair, and was dressed in that 
 sheer, crisp lawn which inspires such refresh- 
 ing thoughts of coolness on a warm summer 
 morning, so that, despite the fact of his hav- 
 ing been kept waiting for at least ten min- 
 utes, Mr. Middleton smiled as he looked at her. 
 
 " We are all rather late this morning," 
 said he. "I am afraid an engagement in the 
 house does not agree with us." 
 
 "Do you think the engagement has any 
 thing to do with our being late ? " asked Mrs. 
 Middleton, as she moved across the room and 
 touched a bell, which announced that break- 
 fast might be brought up. " / am late be- 
 cause I scarcely slept at all last night ; and, 
 after unusual wakefulness, one is apt to fall 
 asleep rather heavily in the morning." 
 
 " And what was the reason of the unusual 
 wakefulness ? " asked her husband. " Have 
 you never heard of such a thing as cause and 
 effect ? I think it probable that you would 
 have slept quite as well as usual if Leslie had 
 not come back from her ride yesterday even- 
 ing and informed us that she was engaged to 
 Mr. Tyndale." 
 
 " Of course, I thought of Leslie," said the 
 lady, deprecatingly. " How could I help think- 
 ing of her when we are obliged to face so 
 unexpectedly, too the necessity of giving her 
 up ? " 
 
 " It ought not to have been unexpected to 
 you. Women generally see such things even 
 before they exist." 
 
 " They must be very clever women, then," 
 said Mrs. Middleton, with a laugh. " I am 
 not a very clever woman, you know, and I am 
 usually content with seeing them when they 
 do exist. I cannot understand my blindness 
 in this instance," she went on, shaking her 
 head as if in rebuke of her own stupidity, 
 
 " unless my state of false security was the 
 reaction from the nervous suspicion with 
 which I viewed all of Leslie's admirers when 
 she first entered society. I thought every 
 lamb a wolf then ; and, when the wolf really 
 came, I thought him a lamb." 
 
 " You might have known that this would 
 cftme to pass some time, however." 
 
 " Of course I knew it ; but I hoped well, 
 you know what I hoped. That is all over 
 now," said she, sitting down, with a sigh ; 
 " and I suppose there is nothing for it but to 
 allow her to marry the man with whom she 
 has fallen in love." 
 
 " If you are laying that down as a general 
 principle," said Mr. Middleton, " I must say 
 that I disagree with you. Because Leslie falls 
 in love with a man is no reason whatever for 
 allowing her to marry him if he should 
 chance to be' an undesirable person." 
 
 "But Arthur Tyndale is not an undesir- 
 able person," said Mrs. Middleton, in a dis- 
 tinctly aggrieved tone. 
 
 " I did not say that he was," replied her 
 husband. " It was only the general principle 
 to which I objected. Girls are not exactly 
 famous for wisdom of matrimonial choice." 
 
 " Foolish girls make foolish choices," said 
 the lady, sententiously. " But not girls like 
 our Leslie." 
 
 " Do you think our Leslie has made a 
 very wise one ? " asked Mr. Middleton, sig- 
 nificantly. 
 
 " I am as sorry as possible that she has 
 made any at all," was the quick reply ; " but, 
 as far as the choice itself is concerned, I do 
 not think that it is possible to call it an un. 
 wise one. At least it would be difficult to 
 find an objection to Arthur Tyndale. I know 
 nothing whatever to be said against him." 
 (This in a tone which left a decided impres- 
 sion that the speaker would have been glad 
 if there had been something to say against 
 him.) 
 
 " Nor for him ! " added her husband, dry- 
 ly. " It is a very great mistake to suppose 
 that a character is admirable when it is mere- 
 ly made up of negatives," he went on, after a 
 short pause. " There are positive virtues, as 
 well as positive vices. Because young Tyn- 
 dale has none of the last, is no earthly reason 
 for taking for granted that of necessity he 
 has all of the first. I don't like him! "he 
 ended, shortly. "There's not the stuff in him 
 I hoped to find in Leslie's husband."
 
 MISS GRAHAME'S ENGAGEMENT. 
 
 " I think you underrate him," said Mrs. 
 Middleton, in that tone of painful candor 
 with which we bear unwilling testimony to 
 the good name of a person whom privately 
 we have strong reasons for disapproving. 
 " He is young, well-born, and wealthy peo- 
 ple might well think us very unreasonable 
 not to be satisfied ; and yet I had so set my 
 heart on Carl " 
 
 "Confound Carl!" interrupted Mr. Mid- 
 dleton, irritably. It was not often that he 
 was betrayed into so much heat of expres- 
 sion ; but, as he flung his paper aside impa- 
 tiently, it was impossible not to think that he 
 would have liked to fling it at the head of the 
 absent Carl. " What the fellow is doing I 
 can't tell ! " he went on, walking to the table 
 and sitting down. "He certainly pays very 
 little attention to my wishes or requests for 
 his return." 
 
 " The loss is his ! " said Mrs. Middleton 
 and, as she drew herself up, her color r"ose k 
 
 " But the annoyance is ours ! " returned 
 her husband, shortly. " I shall have all the 
 vexation of making a will, of dividing and de- 
 ciding about my property pshaw ! Give me 
 a cup of coffee, and let me get down to the 
 bank and drive all this worry out of my 
 head ! " 
 
 The coffee, which had made its appearance 
 by this time, was poured out, and, while Mr. 
 Middleton received his cup, a door opened 
 and closed in the upper regions of the house, 
 a fresh young voice was heard singing several 
 bars of a song, a pair of high French heels 
 came with a quick patter down the staircase, 
 the rustle of soft drapery swept across the 
 hall, and into the breakfast-room entered a 
 slender, graceful girl, with one of those fair, 
 high-bred faces, which instinctively remind 
 one of a white rose. 
 
 " Good - morning, uncle," she said, drop- 
 ping a light kiss on the top of Mr. Middleton's 
 head where there was a considerable bald 
 spot as she passed on her way to her own 
 seat. " How nice and cool you look ! " she 
 went on, scanning him with critical approval 
 as she sat down. " I certainly do like to 
 see men wear linen in summer. Thanks, yes, 
 auntie coffee, if you please. I have seen 
 you before this morning, have I not ? " 
 
 " I was in your room an hour ago," said 
 Mrs. Middleton ; " but I scarcely fancied that 
 you saw me. You seemed fast asleep just 
 then." 
 
 " There you were mistaken," said Leslie. 
 " I heard you ask Maria how I had slept as 
 if Maria knew ! " 
 
 " I was afraid you might have been fever- 
 ish from having been caught in the rain yes- 
 terday afternoon." 
 
 " There was scarcely rain enough to wet a 
 pocket-handkerchief," said the young lady, 
 " and Mr. Tyndale insisted on our riding so fast 
 that we did not have time to get wet. It was 
 delightful, but rather breathless ! I began to 
 feel as if I might emulate the accomplished 
 Dazzle, who could ride any thing, from a 
 broomstick to a flash of lightning, you 
 know." 
 
 " I suppose it did not occur to Mr. Tyn- 
 dale that your horse might have taken fright 
 and broken your neck," said Mr. Middleton, 
 dryly. 
 
 "Perhaps he looked upon it in the light 
 of a neck which he had a right to break," 
 answered Leslie, composedly. "At least I 
 had told him a short time before that he 
 might have it if he chose." 
 
 " I don't think he need have been in quite 
 such a haste for all that," retorted her uncle. 
 " Time enough for murder after matrimony." 
 
 Leslie laughed it is easy to laugh at 
 even the poorest jest when one is young and 
 happy, and the world seems absolutely over- 
 flowing with sunshine and when she laughed, 
 she looked, if possible, prettier than before. 
 Animation was especially becoming to her 
 face, for it waked all manner of entrancing 
 dimples around her mouth, deepened the deli- 
 cate flush on her cheeks, and kindled a bright 
 gleam in her soft gray eyes. She was a charm- 
 ingly harmonious creature, with an aroma 
 of unconscious refinement about her. Not a 
 line-and-measure beauty, by any means. Not 
 a woman who could defy criticism, or serve 
 under any circumstances as a model for a 
 sculptor. Many a painter, however, might 
 ! have been glad of such a study as she made, 
 sitting there in the fresh glory of her youth, 
 with a ray of sunlight brightening the silken 
 meshes of her brown hair, and touching with 
 a pencil of light her pure white brow, over 
 which a few light soft tresses wandered free. 
 "A born child of prosperity," almost any 
 one would have said, looking at her, and yet 
 although life had from her early childhood 
 been a very fair and pleasant thing to Leslie 
 Grahame she had not, strictly speaking, been 
 born to the gifts of fortune which she had
 
 G 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 enjoyed. Her eyes had first opened upon a 
 very different prospect indeed the more 
 common prospect of those thorny by-ways 
 and toilsome paths of poverty which are in- 
 tensified in bitterness by memories of gentle 
 rearing and the consciousness of gentle birth. 
 Her father Mrs. Middleton's only brother 
 had been a cavalry-officer, who lost his life in 
 a fight with the Comanches in Texas. Her 
 mother was a weak and foolish woman, who, 
 being little more than a girl at the time of 
 this event, cried herself sick in the first two 
 weeks of her " bereavement," then wiped 
 away her tears with the facility of a child, 
 and very soon married again in a manner cal- 
 culated to draw down upon herself the condem- 
 nation of society and the indignant reprehen- 
 sion of all her friends. These friends, who 
 had objected to her first husband on the score 
 of that impecuniosity which seems to attend 
 the profession of arms in all countries and at 
 all times, felt themselves deeply outraged by 
 this second choice, which quite dwarfed the 
 foolish romance that had made a silly school- 
 girl elope with a penniless soldier. Their re- 
 monstrances, however, were heeded as re- 
 monstrances usually are when those who 
 utter them have only power to remonstrate. 
 The young widow persisted in bestowing her 
 heart and hand upon a plausible, handsome 
 adventurer, of whose antecedents no one 
 knew any thing, and whose habits of life 
 were notoriously disreputable. That he was 
 an Irishman, a slight accent it could scarce- 
 ly have been called a brogue betrayed to 
 Anglo-Saxon ears. But, further than that, 
 even gossip was unable to penetrate, for he 
 was only temporarily living in America when 
 lie met Mrs. Grahame. Why he married her 
 is one of the mysteries which are beyond the 
 ken of men or angels to fathom; but it is 
 likely that, with an interesting widow in deep 
 crape, he associated some substantial expec- 
 tations destined, if so, to vanish into the 
 thinnest of thin air. Why she married him, 
 requires no explanation, for she was one of 
 those women who seem born to do foolish 
 things from their cradles to their graves, and 
 was, besides, of the large class to whom a 
 husband is a simple necessity of life. Im- 
 mediately after their marriage, Mr. Desmond 
 (such was the gentleman's well - sounding 
 name) took his wife abroad the continent of 
 Europe being then, as now, the grand resort 
 of all Bohemians of his class insisting, how- 
 
 ever, that she should leave behind the child 
 of her first marriage. She made little demur 
 to this peremptory demand. Mrs. Middle- 
 ton, who had been married several years, was 
 very glad to adopt the little waif, and, with a 
 tempest of weak tears, the mother parted from 
 her child as it chanced, forever. 
 
 For, of course, she never returned. Two 
 children were born abroad, and then, worn 
 out by the vicissitudes of a wandering, shift- 
 ing life, all prettiness gone from her face, 
 all health from her body, all strength (if such 
 a thing had ever existed) from her mind, the 
 poor, faded wreck bowed her head and died. 
 She had kept up a sort of straggling corre- 
 spondence with little Leslie to whom, in her 
 bright, luxurious home, " mamma " was the 
 dimmest of dim memories but her other re- 
 lations had long since dropped all communi- 
 cation with her, and there was no one to care 
 particularly when a foreign letter sealed with 
 black came to Mr. Middleton, in which Mr. 
 Desmond informed him that Mrs. Desmond 
 had died on a certain day of a certain month 
 at Coblentz-on-the-Rhine. Mr. Middleton ac- 
 knowledged the receipt of this information by 
 a business-like letter, remarkable only for its 
 brevity ; and the result on Leslie's life con- 
 sisted in the fact that, for several months, 
 she was reluctantly compelled to wear black 
 sashes with her white frocks. 
 
 By the time this young lady grew up, 
 everybody had quite forgotten the poor, fool- 
 ish woman safely laid to rest in her foreign 
 grave. Miss Grahame was a beauty accord- 
 ing to the not very high popular standard of 
 beauty an heiress, and a very bright, pleas- 
 ant girl besides, so it was not wonderful that 
 she made quite a success at her first appear- 
 ance in society. It was not a success which 
 diminished, either as successes often do 
 when season after season rolled away, and the 
 pretty belle remained certainly not unsought, 
 yet assuredly unwon. Perhaps there was 
 safety of heart and fancy in the multitude of 
 her admirers ; or perhaps she felt an obliga- 
 tion to brighten, for a few years of her youth, 
 the kind home that had sheltered her child- 
 hood. It is to her credit that Leslie laid 
 much stress on the latter consideration ; yet 
 it is likely enough that, if she had ever been 
 seriously "interested," as old-fashioned peo- 
 ple say, this obligation would have shared the 
 fate that such obligations mostly do when 
 opposed to the master-passion of mankind.
 
 A TROUBLESOME REQUEST. 
 
 However this might be, the fact remained the 
 same. Suitors came and suitors went, but 
 Leslie shook her head and said them nay, 
 until one came to whom the girl's heart sur- 
 rendered with all the more abandon that it 
 had held out stoutly for so long. 
 
 Why this desirable person, against whom 
 nothing could be said, was not so fortunate 
 as to secure the approval of the guardians as 
 well as the heart of the lady, may be ex- 
 plained in the fact that his wooing and suc- 
 cess had knocked over, like a house of cards, 
 a very pretty little plan which the Middletons 
 had erected for their own present and future 
 satisfaction. Seeing Leslie remain fancy free 
 so long, these good people had been tempted 
 to think what a pleasant thing for them it 
 would be if they could only keep her with 
 them altogether, and, as the best means of 
 attaining this desired end, they thought of 
 one Carl Middleton a nephew of the banker 
 who had been educated abroad, but was 
 shortly expected home who should-, indeed, 
 have been at home considerably before this 
 time. Of course, he could not but fall in love 
 with Leslie so Mrs. Middleton argued, in the 
 partial fondness of her heart and, being a 
 frank, pleasant young fellow, with his due 
 share of the Middleton good looks, it was 
 likely enough that Leslie might fall in love 
 with him, in which case it was a long and 
 happy vista that opened before the astute 
 match-maker's eyes. It will be seen what a 
 bomb-shell to the foundations of this castle 
 in Spain Arthur Tyndale had proved; and 
 also why Mr. and Mrs. Middleton were not 
 properly grateful to Providence for the many 
 worldly advantages that surrounded Miss 
 Grahame's fortunate suitor. 
 
 After Mr. Middleton's last remark, there 
 was silence round the breakfast - table for 
 some time. They tried to look and seem as 
 usual, but there was an uncomfortable sense 
 of constraint about them. They each felt, in 
 a different way, that the golden charm of 
 home had been broken how much or how 
 little no one could tell that a jarring ele- 
 ment had entered their life, and that, what- 
 ever the future might hold for them, the fair, 
 serene past had ended yesterday. There 
 never were people who, in their domestic 
 life, were more at ease with each other, and 
 it was strange to see how they hesitated just 
 now each seeming in doubt what to say. 
 Finally, Mr. Middleton spoke again : 
 
 " I suppose, Leslie, that I shall see Tyn- 
 dale some time this morning ? " 
 
 "He said he would certainly see you," 
 Leslie answered, coloring a little, but other- 
 wise preserving that composure which she 
 had been taught to observe as one of the 
 chief duties of life. 
 
 " And what am I to tell him ? " asked her 
 uncle half jestingly, yet with a certain amount 
 of tenderness in his keen, brown eyes. 
 
 " Just what you please, I am sure," an- 
 swered Miss Grahame, quietly. " / told him 
 yesterday all that mattered very much." 
 
 " So he merely comes to me as a matter 
 of complimentary form ? " 
 
 " Not exactly that. Of course, he knows 
 that my consent is worth nothing without 
 yours ; but then he must also know that ob- 
 jection is out of the question as far as he is 
 concerned. There is not a flaw to be found 
 in Arthur," added the young lady, proudly. 
 
 "Well, that is going rather far," said her 
 uncle. " Objection may be out of the ques- 
 tion," he added, reluctantly, "but I would 
 not advise you to make a demi-god of him on 
 that account, my dear. Be content that he 
 is a very clever young fellow, as men go but 
 with plenty of flaws, you may be sure, when 
 you come to know him. And so " (his voice 
 changing a little), " you are really going to 
 leave us ? we are really to lose our little 
 girl ! " 
 
 " uncle, don't don't make me cry ! " 
 pleaded Leslie, with something like a gasp 
 in her throat, and a tremulous, beseeching 
 glance in her eyes. "I made up my mind 
 this morning that I would not be sentimental 
 or foolish, and that I would look at things 
 from a practical, common-sense point of view. 
 There is nothing whatever to be melancholy 
 about. People are married every day." 
 
 "That is very true," said Mr. Middleton, 
 "and, according to the same argument, a 
 good many of them die, too ; but somehow 
 we don't get used to it." 
 
 " George ! " cried his wife, " what a com- 
 parison ! " 
 
 " I am trying to teach Leslie logic, my 
 dear," said George. "You know I never 
 succeeded in teaching it to you. It seems 
 that it is a settled thing, then, that we are to 
 kill the fatted calf," he went on rather hastily 
 perhaps to do away with the impression of 
 his last remark. " I hope, however, Tyndale 
 doesn't mean to take possession of you at once,
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Leslie. He'll spare you to us for some time 
 to come, eh ? " 
 
 " I have not asked him any thing about 
 it," answered Leslie ; " but I shall not think 
 of being married before the autumn. I " 
 here she hesitated a minute " I have been 
 thinking of something that I should like to 
 ask you, uncle and you, aunt." 
 
 " We are all attention," said Mr. Middle- 
 ton, elevating his eyebrows as he glanced up, 
 for such a grave preface was very unlike 
 Leslie. 
 
 " You may think it very foolish, and you 
 may even think it very unreasonable," said 
 Leslie, looking first at one and then at the 
 other, "but, indeed, I have considered it 
 seriously, and I should like it very much, if 
 you have no objection." 
 
 " My dear," said Mrs. Middleton, " you 
 know that you could scarcely ask any thing 
 which we would not be glad to grant. But, 
 of course, we cannot know what you want 
 unless you tell us." 
 
 " No of course not," said Leslie, laugh- 
 ing nervously. " The fact is," she continued, 
 "I am afraid you will disapprove of my re- 
 quest ; but, indeed, I have set my heart on it. 
 How stupid I am ! " she went on with a burst 
 of impatience. " I have made you think all 
 sorts of things, when all that I want is to ask 
 you if I may invite one of my sisters to come 
 and see me." 
 
 It certainly sounded like a moderate re- 
 quest, yet one more astonishing, and, in fact, 
 more dismaying, could scarcely have been 
 made. Mr. and Mrs. Middleton looked at 
 each other silently, while Leslie after a 
 pause continued : 
 
 " You see I have thought so often of poor 
 mamma and of the girls my sisters whom 
 I have never known. Only the other day I 
 was reading over mamma's letters, and my 
 heart smote me 'to think what my life is and 
 what theirs has doubtless been. Of course, 
 I could do nothing for them while I had no 
 home of my own ; but but I shall soon have 
 that, and I should like to know something 
 of them, so as to see how best to benefit 
 them." 
 
 " No home of your own, Leslie ! " repeated 
 Mrs. Middleton. " It seems to me that is a 
 hard thing to say to us." 
 
 "Dearest aunt, don't you understand?" 
 said the girl, earnestly. " What I mean is, 
 that I could not ask you to take them as you 
 
 took me. You would have thought it only 
 kindness to me to refuse. But, you see, my 
 engagement seems such a good reason to offer 
 for asking one of them to come, that I thought 
 you would not mind it for a little while. We 
 could see what she is like, you know, and 
 and if she is nice, I am sure it would be very 
 pleasant for her to live with me until she 
 married, or something of that kind." 
 
 Again Mr. and Mrs. Middleton looked at 
 each other this time despairingly. They 
 both saw plainly the nature of the plan which 
 this foolish girl had been building, and they 
 both saw, also, the hopelessness of opposing 
 it. Still, in their different ways, each of them 
 tried a little argument. 
 
 " The idea is very natural, and does you 
 credit, my dear," said Mr. Middleton, "but I 
 think you ought to consider that you may be 
 preparing a great deal of trouble for yourself, 
 by opening any closer communication with 
 such such people as those." 
 
 " What kind of trouble ? " asked Leslie. 
 
 Mr. Middleton looked annoyed, and pushed 
 his cup rather sharply away. 
 
 "I thought you knew that your mother's 
 second husband was an adventurer," he said. 
 "Neither he nor his daughters are fit asso- 
 ciates for you." 
 
 "But I don't want to associate with him," 
 answered Leslie, simply ; " and, as for his 
 daughters, they are my sisters. I can't alter 
 that fact, however much I neglect them. 
 And their father's character makes me all 
 the more anxious to do something for them." 
 
 " But you may do yourself great injury," 
 urged Mrs. Middleton. " People who remem- 
 ber your mother's second marriage will talk 
 very disagreeably ; and Mr. Tyudale may very 
 naturally object to such a connection." 
 
 Leslie drew herself up like a queen her 
 fair skin flushing with a tide of blood, which 
 well deserved the poetic epithet of "gener- 
 ous." 
 
 " You are very kind to think of me as you 
 always have done, auntie," she said ; " but I 
 care nothing for what other people may say; 
 and, as for Arthur he will not be likely to 
 marry me unless he is willing to receive my 
 sisters into his house." 
 
 Mrs. Middleton moved uneasil} 7 . Nothing 
 could have been more trying to her than to 
 see such an idea as this take possession of 
 Leslie's mind. 
 
 "My dear," she said, gravely, "can you
 
 ARTHUR TYNDALE. 
 
 not trust your uncle and myself when we as- 
 sure you that these are not people with whom 
 you should burden your life ? You have no 
 idea what manner of man your mother's sec- 
 ond husband was; and these girls are not 
 only his daughters, but they have been his 
 associates, and the associates of Ms associates, 
 for years. Leslie ! promise me to give up 
 such a foolish scheme." 
 
 "But," repeated Leslie, "they are my 
 sisters. If I can save them from such a life, 
 ought I not to do it ? " 
 
 " Not to the injury of your own life," an- 
 swered her aunt, quickly. 
 
 " My life is made," the girl returned, with 
 the rash confidence of youth. " They might 
 annoy, but they could not injure'me; and an- 
 noyance I am ready to risk." 
 
 "But, my dear child " 
 
 "There! there!" broke in Mr. Middle- 
 ton, impatiently, "don't you see that she has 
 set her heart on it, and that no words are go- 
 ing to do any good ? You've spoiled her, Mil- 
 dred, now take the consequences, and write 
 and ask the girl to come. I suppose you 
 don't want both of them?" (looking inter- 
 rogatively at Leslie). 
 
 " No," she answered ; "I have thought it 
 over, and decided that I should prefer the 
 elder the one who writes to me occasion- 
 ally, and is nearest my age. Her name is 
 Xorah the other is Kate." 
 
 " And it is Norah you want ? " asked Mr. 
 Middleton, in exactly the tone he might have 
 employed if he had said, " And it is the bay 
 horse you want ? " * 
 
 " Yes, Norah, if she will come." 
 
 "There is very little doubt of that," he 
 said, grimly. " I only hope you may not wish 
 the thing undone after it is irrevocably done," 
 he went on, as he rose to leave the room. 
 "But you can write for her, and your aunt 
 will write, too, no doubt. Meanwhile, I will 
 go and read my paper till Tyndale comes. I 
 hope he won't prove a laggard in his woo- 
 ing, for I have an appointment at the bank in 
 an hour." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " This is her picture as she was : 
 
 It seems a thing to wonder on, 
 As though mine image in the glass 
 Should tarry -when myself am gone." 
 
 MR. TrxDALE.did not prove a laggard in 
 his wooing. Before Mr. Middleton had fin- 
 
 ished his paper in fact, before he had suc- 
 ceeded in dismissing Leslie's troublesome re- 
 quest from his mind, so as to satisfactorily 
 master the rates of exchange and the politi- 
 cal intelligence the library-door opened, and 
 a gentleman was ushered in hj Robert, who 
 knew the gentleman's business quite as well 
 as he knew it himself. He was a handsome 
 young man ~of six- or seven-and-twenty, fair- 
 haired, and silken-mustached, with a com- 
 plexion like a girl's, violet eyes, and a slen- 
 der, elegant figure, which he carried with re- 
 markable grace. 
 
 Mr. Middleton met him cordially. Be- 
 cause Arthur Tyndale was not the husband 
 whom he would have chosen for his pretty 
 Leslie was no reason why the fortunate suitor 
 should not receive at his hands all the consider- 
 ation which was his due and a good deal of 
 consideration was esteemed in society Mr. Tyn- 
 dale's due. He not only represented one of 
 the oldest names in the State, but he had 
 come into a large property at his majority, 
 which, as yet, had been very moderately con- 
 verted into ducks and drakes. Tempted, as 
 few men are tempted, by the union of perfect 
 liberty, wealth, and good looks, he had pre- 
 served a very clear record the record of a 
 thorough-bred gentleman and an unexception- 
 ably " good fellow " in the face of the world ; 
 and, altogether, as Mr. Middleton had already 
 admitted, with some degree of reluctance, 
 there was nothing with which the most carp- 
 ing guardian could possibly have found fault. 
 No one was better aware of these facts than 
 the gentleman himself, in consequence of 
 which his manner was perhaps a little too 
 well assured in preferring his suit. Not that 
 he exhibited any offensive self-confidence he 
 had too much high-breeding for that but he 
 was not entirely successful in wholly banish- 
 ing a certain consciousness of safety, which 
 was a trifle irritating to his companion. All 
 objection being out of the question, however, 
 the matter was soon settled, due congratula- 
 tions were uttered, hands were shaken, and 
 then Mr. Tyndale was at liberty to betake 
 himself to the drawing room, where Leslie 
 was awaiting him. 
 
 She was standing when he entered by 
 an open window, looking absently out over a 
 green square, in the tall trees of which a mul- 
 titude of birds were singing, while children 
 played and nurses gossiped along the shaded 
 walks, and a stream of pedestrians passed
 
 10 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 continually through the wide iron gates. 
 Hearing his step, she turned, with something 
 even brighter than the May sunshine on her 
 face. 
 
 " Is it all settled ? " she asked, smiling, 
 as he approached; for she knew perfectly 
 well what his answer would be. 
 
 " It is all settled," he answered, taking 
 her into his arms and kissiug her. " You are 
 mine, Leslie ! " 
 
 " Am I ? " asked Leslie, drawing back, as 
 if half inclined to dispute the assertion. But 
 then she laughed and yielded to his eager em- 
 brace. " I believe I am," she said, answer- 
 ing her own question with a slight sigh. 
 
 " Are you sorry for it ? " he asked, quickly. 
 " Ah, Leslie, surely not ! Surely you believe 
 that nobody has ever loved you half so well 
 as I ! Wait until I have proved it to you ; 
 wait until I have put it to the test and made 
 you believe it by other signs than mere words ; 
 and then tell me, if you dare, that you are 
 sorry for having come to me ! " 
 
 " Did I say I was sorry ? " demanded Les- 
 lie. " You should not take things so much 
 for granted. If I sighed a little it was only 
 because my freedom is the best thing I have 
 ever possessed ; and I don't like the thought 
 of giving it up." 
 
 " Do you think you will be giving it up 
 to me ? " he asked, smiling. " / think time 
 will prove that you have only gained another 
 slave." 
 
 But, like a true daughter of Eve, Leslie 
 shook her head. 
 
 " Suppose I don't want another ? " she 
 said. " I have had slaves enough. By way 
 of variety, I think I should like to be domi- 
 neered over a little. Just a little, Arthur ; 
 not enough to be disagreeable." 
 
 " I can safely promise that it will be ex- 
 ceedingly little," said Tyndale, laughing. "You 
 were born queen-regnant, my Leslie, and so I 
 think you will die. At least " shrugging his 
 shoulders " I am sure I have not the where- 
 withal to make a tyrant even of the mildest 
 type. My constitutional indolence rather in- 
 clines me to prefer being henpecked. It 
 would be a pleasure to be put in leading- 
 strings by such fingers as these." 
 
 He lifted her small, white, lissome hands 
 as he spoke, but before he could carry them 
 to his lips Leslie took them into her own pos- 
 session, and, placing one on each of his shoul- 
 ders, repeated, with a very gracious sweetness, 
 
 the charming words in which Portia makes 
 her self-surrender : 
 
 "... the full sum of me 
 Is sum of something ; which, to term in gross, 
 Is an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpractised : 
 Happy in this, she is not yet so old 
 But she may learn ; and happier than this, 
 She is not bred so dull but she can learn ; 
 Happiest of all is, that her gentle spirit 
 Commits itself to yours to be directed, 
 As from her lord, her governor, her king." 
 
 What Tyndale's answer was, it is not diffi- 
 cult to imagine. The lips which had uttered 
 these words were very near his own, and he 
 was very much in love. In truth, it was a 
 new side of her character which Leslie was 
 showing him just now a more charming 
 side, he thought, than he had seen yet. She 
 had not been won without difficulty this 
 fair, proud maiden she was not a woman to 
 drop like a ripe cherry into any man's hand ; 
 but he felt more than repaid for all that she 
 had cost him as the fair, graceful head went 
 down on his shoulder. 
 
 But it is scarcely worth while to dwell on 
 this part of the interview. Everybody agrees 
 in considering "engaged" people very tire- 
 some. To the general mind there seems some- 
 thing especially stupid in felicity which is ac- 
 complished and secure. It is likely that we 
 might even weary of Romeo and Juliet, of 
 Max and ThcMa, if the course of true love 
 had, in either case, run smooth. The reader 
 can afford to be patient, however, with the 
 bit of tame happiness undisturbed by doubt, 
 untortured by agony which has just been 
 sketched. As far as one, at least, was con- 
 cerned, it was very nearly the last of cloud- 
 less sunshine. 
 
 For, before long, Leslie began to bestow 
 confidence and claim sympathy from her lover, 
 on the score of her late discussion with her 
 uncle and aunt. The matter was laid in all 
 its bearings before him, and then she asked 
 pathetically if he thought she had been un- 
 reasonable or unkind in pressing her point. 
 
 Mr. Tyndale's reply was prompt and satis- 
 factory. He agreed with her in every thing 
 though his sympathy partook largely of the 
 nature of a blind faith, since he evidently had 
 conceived only the vaguest possible idea of 
 the whole question. Step-sisters, were they ? 
 no, half-sisters. Well, at all events, she 
 was perfectly right to do all she could for 
 them. As for their father being an adven- 
 turer what did that have to do with the
 
 THE PHOTOGRAPH. 
 
 11 
 
 matter ? A great many very good people had 
 disreputable fathers ; and, indeed, adventurers 
 were sometimes amazingly pleasant fellows^ 
 Mr. Tyndale could certify to that from per- 
 sonal knowledge. Besides, were not their 
 friends the Middletons just a trifle narrow- 
 minded and old - fashioned in their ideas ? 
 Perhaps the gentleman in question only lived 
 rather a fast life, as gentlemen often did 
 abroad and at home, too, for that mat- 
 ter. 
 
 Leslie was much comforted by these lib- 
 eral opinions; but over the latter theory she 
 shook her head. 
 
 " I am afraid the father is certainly a very 
 dreadful person," she said; "but still, his 
 daughters are my sisters, and I am so glad 
 so very glad that you agree with me about 
 them." 
 
 "Of course I agree with you," said Mr. 
 Tyndale, secretly a good deal bored, for he 
 had not come to talk over disagreeable family 
 questions with his pretty lady-love. "It is 
 never good style to cut one's relations unless 
 they are absolutely disgraceful. Now, these 
 may be very charming girls, despite the fact 
 of their father being a chevalier d'industrie 
 for, I take it, from what you say, that is just 
 about what he is. Fortunately, he is not re- 
 lated to you, so it will be easy enough to drop 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, certainly," answered Leslie, hastily 
 having never had the least intention of tak- 
 ing him up in the first instance. " It is such 
 a relief to find that you are not prejudiced, as 
 some men would have been, Arthur," she 
 went on. " Aunt Mildred really made me 
 quite uneasy. She said you would be sure to 
 object to such a connection." 
 
 " My darling, a man who has seen as much 
 of the world as I have has no prejudices," 
 said Mr. Tyndale, superbly. " And as to ob- 
 jecting to the connection I am afraid I 
 should not be sufficiently orthodox to object 
 to Old Nick, if I had to take him along with 
 you." 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you for the 
 association of ideas." 
 
 "I only wanted to put it as forcibly as 
 possible. It would be hard lines if any of us 
 were accountable for our relations much less 
 for anybody whom our relations may take it 
 into their heads to marry ! There never was 
 a man more cursed with disagreeable rela- 
 tions than I have been," he pursued, frank- 
 
 ly. " Except Max, I really don't think there's 
 a decent one among the whole rank and 
 file." 
 
 " But none of them are chevaliers cTindus- 
 trie?" 
 
 "No they rather go in for the heavy, 
 respectable line. But I have seen a good 
 many chevaliers cTindustrie whom I would 
 take, ten to one, so far as agreeable quali- 
 ties go." 
 
 " What a pity your friends could not hear 
 you ! " said Leslie, laughing. " Disagreeable 
 relations must be exceedingly unpleasant, 
 however. Fortunately, I have never been 
 tried by them. I often wonder what my sis- 
 ters are like," she went on, musingly. " They 
 may be nice mamma came of very nice peo- 
 ple, you know. Then Norah's photograph is 
 certainly very pretty. Don't you feel prepos- 
 sessed toward pretty people? I always do. 
 A propos, I must show you her photograph, 
 and see what you think of it." 
 
 "Never mind just now," said Tyndale, 
 who, being comfortable, felt indolent. "I 
 don't mean to be ungrateful but you can 
 show it to me any time, you know ; and I care 
 little for the photograph of any woman under 
 the sun, while I have you beside me." 
 
 " That is very complimentary," said Les- 
 lie; "but still I want you to see Norah's 
 likeness. You are one of the few people 
 whose judgment I can trust with regard to 
 beauty; and I think she is beautiful." 
 
 " Is she ? " asked he, carelessly. " Well, 
 if it must be where is the picture ? " 
 
 " It is hanging in my room. Ring the 
 bell, and I will send for it." 
 
 Tyndale rang the bell ; but, after a mes- 
 sage had been dispatched by Robert to Miss 
 Grahame's maid, he entered a feeling protest 
 against the proceeding. 
 
 " Cannot this wait ? " he asked. " It is 
 not often that Fate gives us such a happy hour 
 as this why should we bring the every-day 
 things of life to jar upon it ? Why can't we 
 fancy ourselves in paradise or Arcadia, where 
 sisters and step-fathers never come ? " 
 
 Some women would have been offended by 
 the frankness of this speech ; but Leslie only 
 laughed laughed and extended her hand to 
 Maria, who entered at that moment with a 
 photograph mounted and framed in velvet and 
 gilt. 
 
 " I think the truth i?, that you are terribly 
 bored," she said, after the maid was gone.
 
 12 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 "Still, if you desire it, we will not talk of the 
 matter any more. But you must look at 
 Koran's picture for all that." 
 
 She held up the picture as she spoke, and 
 bending slightly for he was rather near- 
 sighted Arthur Tyndale saw the face stamped 
 thereon with what Mr. Collins calls " the 
 stern justice of photography." 
 
 It was not a very stern justice in this in- 
 stance ; nor was it a face which, having seen 
 once, any man would be likely to forget and 
 Tyndale, as it chanced, had cause to know it 
 well. He was a man of the world, and, ac- 
 cording to the fashion of his class, had him- 
 self pretty well in hand against awkward sur- 
 prises; but the awkwardness the terrible 
 unexpectedness of this, threw him complete- 
 ly off his guard. 
 
 " Good Heaven ! " he said, before he knew 
 what he was about. " Why, it is Norah Des- 
 mond ! " 
 
 " What ! do you know her ? " cried Les- 
 lie, in uncontrollable amazement. " Of course, 
 it is Norah who else should it be? But do 
 you know her, Arthur ? " 
 
 " Is she your sister? " asked Tyndale, hur- 
 riedly his fair skin several shades fairer 
 than it had been the minute before. " She 
 this girl ? " 
 
 "Of course, she is my sister," repeated 
 Leslie, more and more astonished. " Do you 
 know her ? have you seen her ? You must 
 have seen her to recognize her picture. But 
 where was it ? How strange it seems that you 
 should know her!" 
 
 " Yes very strange ! " said he, with lips 
 that slightly quivered. "But coincidences 
 happen very often, you know, and and you 
 are sure there is no mistake, Leslie?" he 
 cried, again. " You are sure this is the like- 
 ness of your sister? " 
 
 " What possible mistake could there be ? " 
 asked Leslie. "Xorah sent me the picture 
 as her likeness. I have never seen her, 
 however. If you have, you ought to know 
 whether or not it is she." 
 
 "Yes, it is she," he answered looking at 
 the pictured face before him, and, hating its 
 brilliant fairness with all his heart, he still 
 could not deny that it was she. 
 
 " But you have not told me yet how you 
 met her or when or where ! " said Leslie, 
 eagerly. " Of course, it must have been 
 abroad ; but tell me all about it. How strange 
 it seems that you should have seen her and 
 
 not know that she was my Bister ! Tell me all 
 about it, Arthur ! " 
 
 . " Don't be impatient," said he. " I I 
 will tell you." Then he stopped a second, as 
 if to clear his throat, and reviewed the situa- 
 tion in his mind. It was rather a desperate 
 one ; and, seeing only a single avenue of es- 
 cape, he determined to lie, with a readiness 
 of resource which would have done credit to 
 the hero of a French play. " It does not fol- 
 low that I know Miss Desmond because I 
 recognize her likeness," he went on. " Any 
 man who has been to Baden-Baden, or to 
 Homburg, might do that. She is somewhat 
 of a celebrity at all those places." 
 
 The significance of his tone was more 
 marked than his words. The bright blood 
 sprang into Leslie's face, and her eyes opened 
 on him with a look for which he was not 
 prepared a look that almost made him sorry 
 for having implied so much. 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked she, some- 
 what haughtily. " I confess I do not under- 
 stand." 
 
 " Don't look that way, my darling," he 
 answered, hurriedly. "I only mean that 
 that Miss Desmond is a very fast woman. 
 And that I was that I am exceedingly sur- 
 prised to find that she is your sister." 
 
 "N"orah! are you sure it is Norah ? " 
 cried Leslie. And then as she, too, frit that 
 the face before her was not one to be mis- 
 taken "0 Arthur, how sorry, how very 
 sorry I am ! But think what a training the 
 poor girl has had ! " the eager, loyal voice 
 went on. " No mother, and such a fa- 
 ther ! Is it any wonder that she should 
 be fast ? " 
 
 " I do not think that I have expressed any 
 wonder at the fact," said Mr. Tyndale, quite 
 dryly. 
 
 " I am so sorry ! " Leslie repeated. For a 
 minute she could sny nothing more. Then 
 she went on quickly too much preoccupied 
 to notice his face very closely "I am so 
 sorry, too, that you did not know her ! You 
 could have told me so much about her ; and 
 I feel as if I should like to know something 
 before she comes." 
 
 " Before she comes ! " Tyndale could do 
 no more than utter just that. " Before she 
 comes, Leslie ! Do you mean that you are 
 still thinking of bringing that girl here after 
 what I have told you ? " 
 
 His tone took Leslie by surprise, and did
 
 LESLIE'S SISTER. 
 
 13 
 
 not please her. She had a spirit of her own, 
 and Arthur Tyndale saw a flash of it then. 
 
 " Why do you suppose that I should not 
 be thinking of it ? " she asked. " I have told 
 you that Norah is my sister, and that I mean 
 to ask her to come and visit me. You have 
 told me nothing concerning her which need 
 alter that intention." 
 
 " I have told you that she has a very fast 
 reputation," he said, quickly almost sharp- 
 
 iy. 
 
 "And when did a fast reputation become 
 such a crime in your eyes ? " she inquired. 
 
 He colored a little. Only a few weeks 
 before, he had been flirting desperately in 
 the vain hope of making Leslie jealous with 
 a pretty widow, whose escapades were so 
 many and so flagrant that she required all 
 the bolstering of wealth and family position 
 to maintain a foothold in society. A ready 
 reply rose to his lips, however a true enough 
 reply, too, since of the many men who like to 
 flirt with fast women, only a small proportion 
 like to marry them. 
 
 " It was always a crime when it came in 
 contact with you" he said. " If there is one 
 thing I desire on earth, it is to keep such 
 women at arm's length from you, Leslie. But 
 it will be impossible to do that if you persist 
 in asking this sister of yours here. Leslie, 
 my darling, trust me in the matter, and 
 promise not to do it 1 " 
 
 If Leslie had been a shade less stanch in 
 her resolve, he would probably have suc- 
 ceeded then, for his handsome eyes pleaded 
 even more powerfully than his words. But 
 the girl was true as steel to her generous pur- 
 pose, and she did not yield. 
 
 " Arthur, dear, don't tempt me," she said. 
 " Somehow I feel as if I must do this as if 
 I must give Norah at least one chance in life. 
 You can't tell how much I want to do it if 
 only for poor mamma's sake." 
 
 " You owe a vast deal to the mother who 
 left you behind her without a regret," he said, 
 bitterly. 
 
 " I do not think she left me without a re- 
 gret," answered Leslie, flushing. " But, even 
 if it were so, it would not alter my duty." 
 
 " That is to say, your inclination." 
 
 " I am sorry you think so," she replied, 
 half proudly ; " but you are mistaken. If I 
 consulted my inclination, I should do exactly 
 what you wish. Even now" then she 
 stopped and hesitated a minute " tell me 
 
 frankly, Arthur," she went on, " you are a 
 man and should know best. The charge you 
 have brought against my sister is a very in- 
 definite one. Is there any reason why she 
 should not be invited to my uncle's house ? " 
 
 She faced him with her clear, candid eyes, 
 and seemed to demand an answer as straight- 
 forward as her question. It is humiliating to 
 confess, but, with every inclination to con- 
 tinue the course which he had so gallantly 
 opened, Mr. Tyndale found himself compelled 
 to speak the truth. 
 
 " There is no reason," he said, " unless 
 you consider what I have already mentioned 
 as a reason." 
 
 But Leslie, as if relieved, shook her head 
 and laughed. 
 
 " How terribly strait-laced you have be- 
 come all at once ! " she said. " It is such a 
 sudden thing that I think it must be an acute 
 attack, and I can trust Norah to cure you. 
 Poor Norah ! Why is that so terrible in her, 
 which is so charming in Mrs. Sandford ? " 
 
 Tyndale muttered something not very 
 complimentary to Mrs. Sanford under his 
 breath. Then he made one final effort. 
 
 " Leslie," he said, gravely, " do you mean 
 to say that you are going to disregard the 
 first the very first request which I have 
 ever made to you ? " 
 
 Leslie looked at him with a sudden keen- 
 ness in her soft gray eyes which he did not 
 quite fancy. She was not by any means a 
 fond, foolish girl to be hoodwinked at a man's 
 pleasure, but a clever woman, who had not 
 lived twenty-two years in the world for noth- 
 ing. It struck her just now that there was 
 an undue amount of eagerness and interest in 
 Tyndale's manner. 
 
 " You force me to believe that there is 
 something more in this than you have told 
 me, Arthur," she said. " You have not here- 
 tofore counted fastness so terrible a crime 
 that it alone should influence you so strongly 
 against my sister. Again I ask in fact, I 
 demand why you object so much to her 
 coming ? " 
 
 " I have told you why," he answered. 
 "You need not fear that I am concealing 
 any thing from you. If you do not trust 
 me" 
 
 " It is not that I do not trust you trust 
 you fully and entirely," she interrupted, with 
 a sincerity which made him wince. But you 
 think of me, Arthur, while I think of Norah
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 poor Norah, who has never had a chance 
 out of that wild Bohemia where she was born. 
 I cannot give up the hope of doing her some 
 good, even" she paused just here "even 
 if the issue involved giving up ?/OM." 
 
 " You could face that alternative with due 
 philosophy, perhaps," said he, bitterly. Then 
 he added suddenly and passionately : " But 
 it will never involve that, Leslie never, so 
 help me God, so far as I am concerned ! " 
 
 It was a strange, vehement oath to take 
 in such a connection, and sounded almost as 
 if he wished to bind himself by something 
 which even himself could not break. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "Ay, there are some good things in life that fall 
 
 not away with the rest, 
 And, of all best things upon earth, I hold that a 
 
 faithful friend is the best. 
 For woman, Will, is a thorny flower : it breaks, 
 
 and we bleed and smart ; 
 The blossom falls at the fairest, and the thorn 
 
 runs into the heart. 
 And woman's love is a bitter fruit ; and, however 
 
 he bite it, or sip, 
 There's many a man has lived to cnrse the taste 
 
 of that fruit on his lip. 
 But never was any man yet, as I ween, be he 
 
 whosoever he may, 
 That has known what a true friend is, Will, and 
 
 wished that knowledge away." 
 
 ON the evening of the same day, Mr. Tyn- 
 dale dined at his club. This was not a suffi- 
 ciently remarkable occurrence to be worthy 
 of note, if it had not chanced that he had 
 been invited to dine with the Middletons, and 
 had declined, on the score of a previous en- 
 gagement. Yet, at seven o'clock he was sit- 
 ting down to dinner quite alone facing rather 
 moodily a deserted dining-room and a solitary 
 servant ; for most diners at the club had van- 
 ished before this time. Although he was 
 alone and had finished his dinner, too the 
 table where he sat bore another cover, at 
 which he now and then glanced with an ex- 
 pression half vexed, half expectant. Plainly 
 he had anticipated a companion, and quite as 
 plainly this companion had not arrived. 
 
 "Is there no sign of Captain Tyndale 
 yet?" he asked impatiently of the servant, 
 who, hearing a carriage stop at the door, 
 made a short excursion of curiosity to the 
 window. 
 
 " Captain Tyndale has just arrived, and is 
 
 coming in, sir," was the somewhat unexpected 
 reply ; and, as Arthur glanced up quickly, 
 the person thus indicated entered the room. 
 A tall, handsome man, with clear, bold feat- 
 ures, mustaches so long that they looked as 
 if they ought to be very much in his way, 
 dark eyes more keen than brilliant, a close 
 crop of dark hair, and the weather-beaten 
 look of one on whom many suns had shone 
 and many rains fallen. He came forward, 
 and, sitting down in the vacant chair opposite 
 Tyndale, laughed good-humoredly. 
 
 "I am amazingly punctual, am I not?" 
 he said. " Is that what you are looking so 
 glum about ? or is' it the heat ? By Jove ! 
 it is infernally warm ! I never felt any thing 
 like it out of Algiers." 
 
 "When one asks a man to dine at seven 
 o'clock," said Tyndale, " one does not usually 
 expect him at half-past that hour." 
 
 " I am very sorry," said the other, apolo- 
 getically. " I really meant to be on time 
 but what can one do against Fate ? I met 
 Mrs. Sandford in her pony-phaeton an hour 
 ago, and she insisted on taking me round the 
 park. I whipped up famously, I can tell you, 
 when I found what the hour was ; but it 
 hasn't been two minutes since she dropped 
 me at the door." 
 
 "Oh, if it was a case of la belle veuve, I 
 can readily excuse you," said Tyndale, with a 
 laugh. " She is one in a thousand for mak- 
 ing a man forget time. Have claret, Max? 
 Handsome, isn't she ? " 
 
 " Thanks yes," said Max, alluding to the 
 claret. "Well, no I don't think I should 
 call her particularly handsome," he said, al- 
 luding to Mrs. Sandford. " Her complexion 
 is good, and she has a great deal of style 
 not much else, that I can perceive." 
 
 " That is half the battle." 
 
 "Of course with a certain class of men. 
 Not with you and me, Hal." 
 
 Max Tyndale had called his cousin " Hal " 
 ever since they were boys, for no earthly rea- 
 son that any one could discover, except that 
 it was not his name. He looked up now and 
 laughed, raising his glass of iced claret to his 
 lips. 
 
 " Not with me, certainly," said Tyndale. 
 " Still, she is a pretty woman, and very good 
 company, as the phrase goes." 
 
 " Charmingly free and easy company, at 
 any rate," said Max, dryly. " We advanced 
 toward intimacy with seven-league boots this
 
 CAPTAIN TYNDALE AND HIS COUSIN. 
 
 15 
 
 evening. It is convenient, at least, to meet a 
 woman who takes all the trouble of making 
 acquaintance off one's hands. She told me 
 all about herself with engaging frankness; 
 and asked so much about my affairs, that I 
 really anticipated her inquiring how much a 
 year I spend on cigars." 
 
 " Probably she did not take sufficient in- 
 terest in that subject." 
 
 " So I supposed, from the fact that she 
 did not ask. She made up for the omission, 
 however, by inquiries sufficiently minute con- 
 cerning you." 
 
 " That was kind of her," said Tyndale, in 
 a tone of only half-veiled contempt. 
 
 " So I thought considering all things ! 
 She was particularly anxious to know if you 
 are engaged to Miss Grahame." 
 
 " And you told her? " 
 
 " That I knew absolutely nothing of your 
 affairs." 
 
 " She didn't believe you, Max." 
 
 " No, I don't suppose she did," said Max, 
 philosophically. " Women rarely do believe 
 the truth. That was good advice Satan gave 
 Festus you remember it, don't you ? " 
 
 "I can't say that I do," answered the 
 other, carelessly. " If I had been able to 
 catch a glimpse of you any time last night or 
 to-day," he went on, " you might have grati- 
 fied Mrs. Sandford's curiosity by letting her 
 know that I am engaged to Miss Grahame." 
 
 Max Tyndale started, changed color a 
 fact which was apparent even through his 
 bronzed skin and looked keenly at his 
 cousin. 
 
 "Is that a fact, Hal ? " he said. 
 
 " Yes, it is a fact," Arthur answered. 
 " Do you remember that I had an engagement 
 to ride with her yesterday afternoon ? Well, 
 we went, and before we got back the matter 
 was settled." 
 
 " I knew, of course, that it was coming," 
 said Max, looking at his claret. " But some- 
 how I did not expect it quite so soon. Things 
 always come unexpectedly, though, don't 
 they ? By Jove ! " (with a slight laugh), " how 
 Mrs. Sandford would have been astonished if 
 I had been able to give her the news ! " 
 
 " You take it coolly," said Arthur, a little 
 piqued. 
 
 " Parbleu ! my dear fellow, how else 
 should I take it especially when you set me 
 such a good example ? " said the other, open- 
 ing his dark eyes quickly. "Rhapsodize a 
 
 little, and then I shall know how to be a lit- 
 tle more effusive." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said Arthur, shortly. 
 " Whatever a man feels, you know that, if he 
 has a grain of sense, he never rhapsodizes. I 
 don't care a fig for your effusion ; but you 
 might acknowledge that the man whom Les- 
 lie Grahame accepts is somewhat luckier 
 than the most of his fellows." 
 
 " That is easily acknowledged," said the 
 other, heartily. " I congratulate you hon- 
 estly on your luck ! In all my wanderings 
 about the world, I have never seen a more 
 charming woman than Leslie Grahame." 
 
 " I think she is charming," said Arthur. 
 " My opinion just now is not worth very much 
 being that of a man in love but I remem- 
 ber how much her grace and refinement 
 struck me when I met her first. I could 
 sooner cut my throat than marry a fast wom- 
 an or a flirt ! " he added, suddenly, and, as it 
 seemed, savagely. 
 
 Max shrugged his shoulders. . He sup- 
 posed his cousin was thinking of Mrs. Sand- 
 ford. 
 
 " They serve very well to pass the time," 
 he said. " One would not think of comparing 
 them with such a woman as Miss Grahame, 
 though." 
 
 "Leslie suits me exactly," said Tyndale. 
 "I really never expected to find a woman 
 who would suit me half so well. Without 
 being beautiful, she is exceedingly pretty. 
 Without being intellectual, she is clever. 
 Without being an angel, she is amiable ; and 
 without being a vixen, she is high-spirited. 
 What are you laughing at, Max ? " 
 
 " Excuse me," said Max. " It only struck 
 me, my good fellow that if you had said at 
 once, ' She is perfection,' it would have 
 shortened the matter." 
 
 " But she is not perfection, nor, thank 
 God, likely to be!" said Arthur, irritably. 
 " Why do you misunderstand me ? I am not 
 rhapsodizing like a fool I am telling you 
 sanely and sensibly why Leslie Grahame suits 
 me better than any other woman could. Even 
 you who are not in love with her can't say 
 that I exaggerate." 
 
 "I don't say it," answered the other, 
 slightly blushing. " I think you are perfect- 
 ly right. I think Leslie Grahame is all that 
 you have said and more besides ! " 
 
 "Thank you!" said Tyndale, gratefully. 
 " Well, acknowledging all this, ask yourself
 
 16 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 if it is not the devil's own luck which puts 
 my possession of it in such jeopardy that a 
 day an hour may part me from Leslie 
 Grahame forever ! " 
 
 Captain Tyndale was in the act of filling 
 his glass, but he put it down to look at his 
 cousin. Had the wine mounted to his head ? 
 The suspicion crossed Max's mind, but the 
 eyes which met his own, though rather 
 gloomy, were perfectly sober. 
 
 " You think I am jesting," Arthur said, 
 as he met his'glance. " You are mistaken. I 
 am in earnest so earnest that I mean to 
 make a clean breast of every thing, and ask 
 your advice concerning the cursed predica- 
 ment in which I find myself." 
 
 " All right," said Captain Tyndale, falling 
 into the familiar phrase half mechanically 
 for he was strangely puzzled by Arthur's tone 
 and manner. " Will you fill your glass ? 
 No ? Then let us go out on the balcony and 
 smoke a cigar. We can talk at our leisure 
 there ; and I confess I am stifling here." 
 
 " It is hot," said the other, loosening his 
 cravat with a jerk. " I never felt such weath- 
 er in May before. At least, there's darkness 
 and fresh air here," he went on, stepping out 
 on the balcony of which his cousin had 
 spoken. " Bring a chair out, Max, and let 
 us be comfortable. Have you any engage- 
 ment ? " 
 
 "None of any importance," answered 
 Max, coming out laden with a chair. " I 
 think my lionhood is that expression cor- 
 rect? we say bellehood, you know must 
 be over. I have only received about half a 
 dozen invitations this week." 
 
 "It is the season which is over," said 
 Tyndale, striking a match and lighting his 
 cigar. " People are getting languid with the 
 warm weather even too languid to lionize a 
 captain of chasseurs who won the cross of 
 the Legion in Algeria and a broken head at 
 Gravelotte." 
 
 "Stuff!" said the captain of chasseurs, 
 lighting his cigar in turn. 
 
 It may have been stuff, but it was true, 
 nevertheless. Max Tyndale who had served 
 for several years in the French army de- 
 served a great deal of credit that his head 
 had not been wholly turned by the amount 
 of lionizing which society had showered on 
 him during the season now closing. Of course 
 it was not only because he had received the 
 Cross of the Legion in Algiers, or that he had 
 
 distinguished himself by so much personal 
 gallantry during the Franco - Prussian War, 
 that he had won his grade where a soldier 
 likes best to win it on the field of battle. 
 These things make a man respected among 
 men, and, in a degree, admired among wom- 
 en, but they do not of themselves win for 
 him that capricious homage of society which 
 may be despised by the wise, but the subtile 
 flattery of which even the wisest are not al- 
 ways able to withstand. There must be other 
 gifts personal gifts to make the hero of 
 battle-fields also a hero in drawing-rooms. 
 These gifts Max Tyndale possessed at least, 
 in a measure. He was handsome, sufficiently 
 accomplished, and unmistakably thorough- 
 bred, besides which he had that graceful ease 
 of manner especially with women which 
 some men bear like a seal of distinction ; and 
 yet there was nothing of the carpet-knight 
 about him. In truth, the principal reason why 
 he had been little spoiled by the flattery and 
 attention so freely paid him, rested in the 
 fact that he cared absolutely nothing for any 
 triumph which society could give. His heart 
 was in sterner conflicts, and bent on more 
 tangible rewards. Ambition was his mistress 
 at present, and she left him little leisure or 
 thought for any other. 
 
 With regard to worldly circumstances, 
 there was a great difference between the two 
 cousins. Arthur Tyndale had inherited, as 
 sole heir, the accumulated wealth of several 
 generations. Max had his pay, and perhaps 
 a few hundreds besides certainly nothing 
 more. It is doubtful, however, if this dif- 
 ference weighed for a moment in the thoughts 
 of either. They were not men to think or 
 care for such a barrier. The same blood 
 beat in their veins, and, apart from kindred 
 lies, they liked each other sincerely, so it 
 mattered very little that one was a million- 
 aire and the other a mere soldier of fortune. 
 Whatever their other faults, wealth in their 
 eyes had none of the glamour with which 
 more vulgar natures regard it. " Every thing 
 is as it should be," Max told his cousin once. 
 " You are the head of the house I am only a 
 'cadet.' Don't think that I envy you an 
 acre of your land, or a centime of your for- 
 tune. On the contrary, I am heartily glad 
 that there is somebody to keep up the old 
 name in due state. We're both Tyndales 
 that is enough for us." 
 
 It had been enough to draw them tosjeth-
 
 A SERIOUS DIFFICULTY. 
 
 17 
 
 er very warmly when they had met a few | 
 years before it had been enough, also, to 
 bring Max on a furlough to America, when he 
 was sick in body, mind, and heart, after the 
 failure of the French cause. Arthur's almost 
 affectionate kindness, the petting of women, 
 and the liking of men, had, however, gone 
 very far toward enabling him to recover his 
 old tone. As he sat opposite Tyndale at the 
 dinner-table, which they had just quitted, he 
 had not looked as if his hopes or thoughts 
 had in any sense gone into exile at Chisel- 
 hurst, or kept anxious watch with M. Thiers 
 over the ofttimes-bora republic. 
 
 Considering that they were in the heart 
 of a busy city, the street which the two 
 young men overlooked from their balcony 
 was rather a quiet one. Few pedestrians 
 passed, only now and then a carriage ; gas- 
 lamps shone through the heavy foliage of 
 green trees, and the serene starlight was able 
 to assert itself quite well. The club-house 
 was blazing with gas, but somewhat empty. 
 Now and then came the clink of billiard-balls, 
 or the sound of voices ; but there was little 
 to remind them of the neighborhood of others. 
 
 " I am all attention," Max at last sug- 
 gested, when he found that his cousin kept 
 silence after some time had passed. 
 
 Even then, Tyndale did not speak imme- 
 diately. He took his cigar from his lips, 
 and knocked off the ashes before he said: 
 
 " Of course it is a woman ! " 
 
 " So I supposed," said the other, coolly. 
 Then, after a pause, " Has it any thing to do 
 with the pretty widow ? " 
 
 " If you mean Mrs. Sandford," said Tyn- 
 dale, contemptuously, " I should think you 
 could tell for yourself that she is not the kind 
 of woman a man ever gets into serious trouble 
 about." 
 
 " There is still another, then ! " said Max. 
 " Upon my word, you would make a good 
 Turk, Hal! Suppose you emigrate to Con- 
 stantinople or perhaps Salt Lake might 
 serve your purpose, since it is nearer home ! " 
 
 " This is no jesting matter," said Tyn- 
 dale, half vexed. " If you can keep serious, 
 Max, for ten minutes, I wish you would. Do 
 you remember when I was in Paris two 
 years ago hearing me speak of a girl I had 
 met at Baden ? An Irish girl. Xorah Des- 
 mond was her name." 
 
 " Really, my dear fellow, you spoke of so 
 many girls," said Max, in a puzzled tone, 
 
 2 
 
 "I am not sure that I remember this special 
 one. What about her ? " 
 
 " You must remember her," said the oth- 
 er, pettishly. " You never heard me speak 
 of any other as I spoke of her, for I was a 
 confounded fool about her just then. She 
 was certainly the prettiest woman I saw 
 abroad, as well as the most fascinating." 
 
 " I think I do remember something about 
 an Irish girl," said Captain Tyndale, after a 
 pause. " Her father was a sort of Robert 
 Macaire, wasn't he ? " 
 
 " Exactly ! A more disreputable person 
 you can't conceive ; but you might have 
 thought him a crown prince, from the way 
 his daughter carried herself. She had the 
 pride of an archduchess, and the temper of 
 the devil ! " 
 
 " An interesting combination ! " said the 
 captain of chasseurs, dryly. 
 
 " By Jove, you might have said so if you 
 had seen her ! " answered the other, with 
 sudden enthusiasm. " I would match her 
 against any woman on the Continent for turn- 
 ing a man's head in the shortest possible 
 time if she had a mind to do it." 
 
 " She seems to have had a mind to turn 
 yours." 
 
 " I think she had," said he, coolly, " and 
 she succeeded after a fashion. We had a 
 fine flirtation for a month or two, and, when 
 at last I was obliged to come home, I should 
 be afraid to say to how much or how little I 
 bound myself." 
 
 " That's unlucky ! " said Max, still speak- 
 ing very dryly. 
 
 " It's the devil's own luck ! " repeated his 
 cousin, fiercely for, it is astonishing how 
 people anathematize luck, or the devil, or 
 any other convenient abstraction, -when the 
 consequences of their own deeds begin to be 
 unpleasantly felt. 
 
 " She is not likely to trouble you, though 
 is she ? " said Max. " A woman like that 
 would be very apt to keep her distance even 
 if the Atlantic was not between you." 
 
 " But the trouble exactly is, that the At- 
 lantic will not be between us very long," said 
 Authur, gloomily. " Max, imagine if you can, 
 what I felt to-day when I heard that Norah 
 Desmond is Leslie Graham's sister ! " 
 
 " What ! " 
 
 " There is no possible doubt about it ; and 
 she Leslie has written for her to come 
 here ! "
 
 18 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 " The devil ! " said Captain Tyndale. 
 
 " I think it must be the devil and all 
 his fiends to boot ! " responded the other, 
 grimly. 
 
 There was a minute's silence before Max 
 recovered himself enough to speak. 
 
 " You are sure this is not a jest, Arthur ? " 
 he said, then. "I confess I scarcely under- 
 stand it. How could Miss Grahame have a 
 sister of whom you never heard ? " 
 
 " That is easily explained," Tyndale an- 
 swered and he explained it in a few words 
 after which he added : " On my soul, Max, I 
 have not an idea what to do. The whole af- 
 fair looks to me desperate. Turning it over 
 in my mind, as I have been doing all day, I 
 see not the least clew out of the difficulty." 
 
 " Stop a minute," said Max, " and let me 
 make it clear in my own mind. I had not a 
 thought it was so serious as this, or I should 
 have paid more attention. In the first place, 
 are you engaged to the girl ? " 
 
 " To Norah ? I suppose I was engaged to 
 her when I left Europe." 
 
 "And you have never broken it off ? " 
 
 " Well no." Then, after a pause, " You 
 Bee it was this way : I came home in the au- 
 tumn of '69, with an understanding that I 
 was to go back for her the next spring. I 
 was very much in love, of course, and kept 
 up a correspondence for some months con- 
 found it, Max, no doubt she has every one of 
 those letters yet ! " 
 
 " She must be a fool if she has not. Never 
 mind the letters go on." 
 
 " That winter I met Leslie Grahame I 
 had not been here for years before, you know 
 and, from the very first, I saw she suited 
 me as no woman ever had suited me before. 
 I had been a mad fool about Norah Desmond, 
 but I knew all the time she was no wife for 
 me setting aside the unpleasant fact of her 
 disgraceful father." 
 
 " A very unpleasant fact, I should think ! " 
 commented Max, in whose conception family 
 pride was second only to professional honor. 
 
 " In a short time I recognized the folly of 
 the whole thing, and made up my mind to end 
 it. But that was not very easily done. I 
 stopped writing, but I could not resolve to 
 take any more decisive step. People talk of 
 bearding lions, but, by Jove ! I would rather 
 beard a dozen lions than Norah Desmond, 
 when her Celtic pride and temper are fairly 
 in arms. So, the spring of '70 came on. She 
 
 wrote once or twice to ask if I was ill, or 
 why I had not written. I did not answer the 
 letters, and they stopped." 
 
 "Well?" said Max, as the voice stopped 
 also. 
 
 " Well, the war came on in the summer, 
 and cut off communication, you know. I 
 can't say that I was sorry for it ; and, from 
 that time, I heard nothing of Norah until 
 to-day. Then Leslie fired the whole thing 
 upon me like a mine of gunpowder." 
 
 " It is certainly an awkward state of af- 
 fairs," said Captain Tyndale, after a pause of 
 some duration, during which he had smoked 
 like a furnace, and, it is to be supposed, re- 
 flected like a sage. His cousin had not a 
 very sensitive ear, or he might have detected 
 an accent of contempt in the tones of his 
 voice, despite its studied modulation. In 
 truth, it had been a sorry story, and this 
 cool, clear-headed soldier was the last man 
 in the world to sympathize with its mingled 
 weakness and cowardice. 
 
 " It is worse than awkward," said Tyndale. 
 " There is no telling what will be the upshot 
 of it, for a prouder woman than Leslie Gra- 
 hame does not live ; and I could see plainly 
 enough this morning that her uncle was not 
 by any means anxious for my alliance. If I 
 had only known this yesterday " 
 
 " You would not have asked Miss Gra- 
 hame to marry you ? " 
 
 " I should have deferred doing so, at all 
 events, until I could have had some under- 
 standing with that" a gulp "that girl in 
 Europe." 
 
 " She will certainly come, I suppose ? " 
 
 " You may count on that " (savagely). 
 " She will come, if only for the pleasure of 
 discomfiting me." 
 
 Captain Tyndale took his cigar from his 
 lips, and rolled a whole cloud of smoke from 
 under his mustache before he spoke. Then 
 he said : 
 
 " It is an ugly business, and you are in 
 for it emphatically. Frankly, I see but one 
 course for you though I am not at all sure 
 you will adopt it." 
 
 " And that" 
 
 " Is to go to Miss Grahame and make a 
 candid statement of the whole affair. If I 
 know any thing of women, you may save your- 
 self by that move, and by that only." 
 
 " You may know something of women," 
 said his cousin, coldly, " but you don't know
 
 PROPOSED VISIT TO ROSLAND. 
 
 19 
 
 any thing of Leslie Grahamc. She would 
 never forgive such a wound to her pride." 
 
 " Is the wound likely to be less severe 
 when she finds that you have been playing 
 the role of accepted suitor to her, while you 
 were engaged to her sister? " 
 
 " Suppose she never knows it ? " 
 
 " I have only judged by what you told me, 
 but I should not think such a woman as you 
 have described could readily be induced to 
 forego so good an opportunity of revenge." 
 
 " We shall see," answered Tyndale. " I I 
 think that I may induce her to see that her 
 best policy is silence." 
 
 " Cynics tell us that every woman has 
 her price," said Max, carelessly. " Of course, 
 you know best whether or not Miss Desmond 
 has hers. Only, I warn you, it is a perilous 
 game you are going to play." 
 
 " At all events, it is better than throwing 
 up my hand, as you advise." 
 
 " I didn't advise that, exactly; but I do 
 advise you to avoid a course of temporizing 
 which can only end by placing you in a more 
 hopelessly false position than you occupy at 
 present." 
 
 " We shall see," said Tyndale, sullenly. 
 
 " When the whole thing comes out, as it 
 sooner or later must, it will lay you open to a 
 very serious charge of dishonor," said his 
 cousin, a little sternly, as it seemed. 
 
 " It is not likely to come to that, I trust," 
 said Tyndale. " Anyhow, there is nothing to 
 do but to let things drift. When the tug of 
 war comes, I can rely on you for aid eh, old 
 fellow ? " i 
 
 " You know that," said the other. 
 
 But in his heart he wished the aid had 
 been demanded in a better cause. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " So, wouldst thou 'scape the coming ill, 
 Implore the dread Invisible 
 
 Thy sweets themselves to sour ! 
 Well ends his life, believe me, never 
 On whom with hands thus full forever, 
 The gods their bounty shower." 
 
 IT is doubtful whether the self-constituted 
 jury of society was ever more unanimous in 
 rendering a verdict of approval than when 
 Leslie Grahame's engagement to Arthur Tyn- 
 clale became publicly known. "What an ex- 
 cellent match ! " people said with one accord. 
 
 ] " How very suitable in every particular ! " 
 Even the young ladies who had cast their 
 nets unsuccessfully for the fish who had 
 landed himself at Leslie's feet, acknowledged 
 that, if matches are ever made in heaven, this 
 special match bore every mark of celestial 
 appointment. Both the parties concerned 
 were so young, so handsome, so charming, 
 and so wealthy, that it was like the ending 
 of a novel or a fairy-tale, where everybody is 
 paired off with such a delightful balance of 
 personal and worldly gifts. 
 
 A few days after the engagement became 
 an accomplished fact, and while people were 
 still talking of it in the few informal gather- 
 ings which they permitted themselves during 
 the languid heat which had come upon them, 
 the Middletong held a family council to de- 
 cide where their summer should be spent. 
 Somewhat to the surprise of her uncle and 
 aunt, Leslie cast her vote for the neglected 
 shades of Rosland a pleasant country-seat, 
 conveniently near the city, which they had not 
 seen for several years. 
 
 " I am. tired of watering-places, and sum- 
 mer traveling, and summer sight-seeing," the 
 young lady said. " No, uncle, I don't think 
 that the mountains, or the sea, or Canada, or 
 the lakes, will tempt me. I have a fancy to 
 go back to dear old Rosland and spend the 
 summer in the luxurious dolccfar niente which, 
 after all, one can only enjoy under one's own 
 vine and fig-tree. Besides, I know that you 
 and Aunt Mildred are tired of dissipation, and 
 would like a little quiet once in a way." 
 
 " We are anxious to consult your wishes, 
 my dear," said Mrs. Middleton. " Of course 
 it would be pleasant to go to Rosland ; but I 
 am afraid you will find it very dull, Leslie. 
 You know you have not been there since you 
 were grown." 
 
 " It is for that very reason I want to go," 
 said Leslie. " I used to be so happy there ; 
 and, as for being dull, I want to be dull. I 
 am tired of dissipation. And, if Norah comes, 
 we must have some settled habitation in which 
 to receive her." 
 
 " That does not follow. She will proba- 
 bly not arrive until July; and she could join 
 us if we were at a watering-place, or accom- 
 pany us if we were traveling." 
 
 " She might not like to do either." 
 
 "No she might not like it," said Mrs. 
 Middleton, slowly. She had not thought of 
 Miss Desmond in connection with their sum-
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 mer plans before ; but, thinking of her now, 
 she began to agree with Leslie that Rosland 
 would, after all, be the best place for them. 
 There was no telling what sort of a creature 
 this Bohemian girl might prove to be, and, in 
 view of possible contingencies, a quiet coun- 
 try-house was the safest and most desirable 
 retreat. " If she is what she may be, it would 
 do incalculable harm to Leslie to introduce 
 her into society I" thought the most refined 
 and fastidious of cMtelaines, with an uncon- 
 scious shudder at her own share in such an 
 affliction. 
 
 " But what will Mr. Tyndale think of your 
 burying yourself at Rosland ? " she asked, at 
 length. " Of course we shall be very glad to 
 see him there ; but no doubt he expected to 
 join our party at some gayer place." 
 
 She spoke this very innocently, when, 
 glancing up, she saw a gleam in Leslie's eyes, 
 and a smile on her lip which threw a sudden 
 ray of light on the young lady's unexpected 
 pastoral fancy. 
 
 " Have you forgotten who is our next 
 neighbor there ? " she asked, with a laugh. 
 "No, I don't mean the Covingtons" as Mrs. 
 Middleton's lips unclosed "I mean on the 
 other side. Have you forgotten that our 
 grounds adjoin those of the Tyndale place ? 
 Arthur and I have talked it all over. We 
 are both tired of the gossip and flirtation that 
 make up watering-place life, and he has not 
 been down to look at his old home since he 
 was a boy. So we are going to enjoy our 
 summer in a sane, sensible, Arcadian fashion 
 for once." 
 
 " I don't see why you could not have said 
 as much without all this discussion, then ! " 
 remarked Mr. Middleton. "It seems, Mil- 
 dred, that you and I may resign ourselves to 
 the role of puppets, Mr. Tyndale being gra- 
 ciously pleased to pull our strings through 
 this young lady, who, like all the rest of her 
 sex, must needs double fifty times about her 
 point when she might save trouble by making 
 straight for it." 
 
 " I was not doubling," answered Leslie, 
 indignantly. " I said from the first I wanted 
 to go to Rosland didn't I, Aunt Mildred ? I 
 was not obliged to remind you that the Tyn- 
 dale place was next ours. You might have 
 remembered that without my aid. If you arc 
 anxious for a watering-place, uncle, you may 
 go by yourself, I am sure. Neither Aunt Mil- 
 dred nor I will interfere." 
 
 " I have no doubt that the new lover has 
 quite banished any need of the old uncle," he 
 replied, with a Timon-like accent, which was 
 not a striking success. 
 
 But Timon himself could scarcely have 
 resisted the glance with which Leslie returned 
 this thrust. The soft, gray eyes looked so 
 pretty and reproachful that it was no wonder 
 the matter ended by a kiss on the spot, and a 
 letter written an hour later to the house-keeper 
 at Rosland, announcing the intended arrival 
 of the family. 
 
 "How delightful it will be!" said Leslie, 
 on the same afternoon, to her lover. " I don't 
 think you appreciate half how delightful, Ar- 
 thur ; but then you have not been down in 
 that lovely country for so long ! You have 
 no idea what a beautiful old place Stafford 
 is. And, taking a short path through the 
 woods, it is not more than a mile from Ros- 
 land ! " 
 
 " It really seems providential altogether," 
 Tyndale said, reflecting the brightness of her 
 face, as, indeed, few men could have helped 
 doing. " Strafford has passed so entirely out 
 of my life these latter years, that if it had not 
 been an old family place I should have put it 
 in the market long ago. It has served to sink 
 money on as far back as I can remember," he 
 added, with a laugh ; " and if you like it, Les- 
 lie, the odds are that still more will be sunk 
 on it before long." 
 
 " I do like it," said Leslie, " more than I 
 can tell you. I have never been in the house 
 since I was a very small child ; but the 
 grounds, with their deep glades and old mossy 
 oaks, are beautiful. Whenever I read of fauns, 
 and dryads, and sylvan fairies, I always think 
 of Strafford. They all find a home there, I 
 am sure." 
 
 " Do they ? " said he, smiling. " Did you 
 use to know them ? To think of your pretty, 
 childish feet wandering alone about the woods 
 of Strafford ! Ah, my Leslie, what a lucky 
 fellow I am to have met you in time ! " 
 
 " In time ! " she repeated. " Why do you 
 say that ? " 
 
 " Why should I not say it, when some- 
 body who deserved you better might have 
 won you if I had been a little later in coming 
 back to America ? " he answered, quickly. 
 
 " That is not very likely," said she. " Fate 
 was saving me up for you. I know that now ! 
 Whenever I used to feel the least inclination 
 to fall in love with anybody, something in my
 
 MRS. SANDFORD. 
 
 heart would draw back and say, 'Not yet.' 
 You see, it was waiting for you, and did not 
 mean that my life should contain any thing 
 which you or I need regret." 
 
 " My Leslie ! " he said, with a sort of pns- 
 sionate fondness ; but none the less a flush 
 came over his face, which Leslie, if she had 
 seen it, would not have understood. It was 
 a flush of reproachful shame to compare the 
 heart given him with the heart he had to give. 
 Men of the world do not often feel such twinges 
 as this ; but, despite his worldly training, Tyn- 
 dale felt it now felt it because he was con- 
 scious that he possessed this heart only on 
 sufferance, and because he knew that a pos- 
 sible conviction awaited him, which would 
 make every fond word Leslie now uttered 
 turn to gall in her memory. " Tell me about 
 Strafford," he went on, after a moment, anx- 
 ious, perhaps, to change the subject. "I 
 have only the vaguest recollection of it. 
 Isn't there a pond somewhere about the 
 grounds? It seems to me I remember catch- 
 ing trout out of a pond." 
 
 " Yes," said Leslie, " but you should not 
 call it a pond it is a lake, and such a lovely 
 one ! Don't you remember how still, and 
 clear, and deep the water is ? how the grounds 
 slope down to it on one side, and what dark, 
 solemn pines are on the other? Then, the 
 water-lilies Arthur, how could you forget 
 the water-lilies?" 
 
 " I had not much of a soul for water-lilies 
 in those days," said he. " I have a much 
 more vivid 'remembrance of the trout. The 
 river is near at hand, too, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Nearer to Rosland than to Strafford, but 
 near enough to both. We always keep a boat 
 on it." 
 
 "And we will put one on the pond I beg 
 pardon, the lake. Then we can row, and fish, 
 and talk, and read ' The Earthly Paradise,' 
 and, in short, make an earthly paradise of 
 our own." 
 
 " I don't like the comparison," said Les- 
 lie. " Paradise had a serpent, you know ; 
 and every paradise, since that time, has been 
 furnished with the same drawback. Now, 
 ours will not have any ; so we will not call it 
 by the fair but fatal name." 
 
 "No, we will not," said Tyndale ; but 
 again a wave of color swept into his face, for 
 he was thinking what a serpent in this earthly 
 paradise Norah Desmond might prove, if she 
 chose. " Max has promised to go down with 
 
 me," he went on, after a pause. "I don't 
 think he will find it dull, for there will be 
 plenty of shooting and fishing for him." 
 
 " What a nice partie carree we shall make 
 when Norah comes ! " said Leslie, gayly. 
 " Perhaps Captain Tyndale will even be 
 obliging enough to fall in love with her." 
 
 "I don't think that at all likely," said 
 Arthur, grimly. " Max has no fancy for that 
 kind of woman, and Miss Desmond flies at 
 higher game than a soldier of fortune." 
 
 " How do you know that ? " asked Leslie, 
 a little curiously. 
 
 " Oh, anybody could tell so much by look- 
 ing at her ! I never saw her that she was 
 not surrounded by what the English call 'tip- 
 top swells.' She is amazingly beautiful, you 
 see, and has a way with her that is positively 
 fascinating." 
 
 "It must have been striking to impress 
 you so much merely at sight," said Leslie. 
 
 She said it with the utmost innocence of 
 intention and manner, but Tyndale shot a 
 keen and slightly uneasy glance at her. We 
 all know the proverb about a guilty con- 
 science ; and it was never better exemplified 
 than by this young fellow, who had already 
 woven about himself the tangled web of a 
 very embarrassing deception. He was spared 
 reply, however ; for just then a carriage drew 
 up at the door, and Leslie, bending forward 
 to glance through the open window at its oc- 
 cupant, uttered an exclamation. 
 
 " Here is Mrs. Sandford ! " she said. 
 " What is it the Italians say when they mean 
 'well sent?'" 
 
 "I would rather inquire what they say 
 when they mean ' ill sent,' " Tyndale answered, 
 frowning and flushing impatiently for his 
 fair skin flushed at the least provocation. 
 " That woman, Leslie, if you will excuse 
 me" 
 
 "But I won't excuse you," interrupted 
 Leslie, laughing. " You must stay and bear 
 your share of the infliction, if you look at 
 her visit in that light. I am sure that a 
 month ago you would have considered it in 
 any other. How does a man dare to talk of 
 a woman's inconstancy, I wonder ? " 
 
 "/ never did," said Tyndale, shrugging 
 his shoulders. The gesture was significant, 
 and implied that he had rather been obliged 
 to find the contrary fault with women that, 
 as a rule, they had been inconveniently con- 
 stant to him. "By Jove!" he went on,
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 walking to the window, " Max has been nice- 
 ly caught. He was passing along tbe street, 
 when Mrs. Sandford stopped him ; and now 
 she is bringing him in, whether he will or no." 
 
 " I am glad of that," said Leslie, in her 
 fresh, cordial voice. " I like your cousin so 
 much, and he comes so seldom of late ! Aunt 
 Mildred and I were regretting it only yester- 
 day." 
 
 " Max has very little fancy for society," 
 said Tyndale, feeling an obligation to apolo- 
 gize. "He has still less fancy for Mrs. 
 Sandford," he added, " but she seems to be 
 making a dead set at him." 
 
 " That must be very awkward." 
 
 " Amazingly so to a man like Max, who 
 likes to place women on a pedestal, and keep 
 them there. I think he dislikes fast women 
 even more than I do," the speaker pursued, 
 reflectively. 
 
 "Z>o you dislike fast women? " said Les- 
 lie, arching her brows. " How necessary it 
 always is to state our opinions if we wish 
 them known ! " 
 
 To this shaft of gentle satire Tyndale had 
 no opportunity to reply, for at that moment 
 Mrs. Sandford entered the room, followed by 
 the tall, soldierly figure of Captain Tyndale. 
 The first impression which she made on the 
 mind was style the second, complexion. She 
 was dressed in black, not that which is sacred 
 to mourning, but a light and becoming mix- 
 ture of grenadine and lace, brightened by 
 delicate mauve ribbons, which set off a com- 
 plexion that might have moved the envy of a 
 girl of sixteen. Color was her strong point, 
 together with a pair of large blue eyes, which 
 she had an artless and infantine way of open- 
 ing to their fullest extent. She opened them 
 now, as she came forward. 
 
 " What a lucky creature I am to find you 
 at home ! " she said, me'etiug Leslie with an 
 effusion which sometimes tried Miss Gra- 
 hame's courtesy severely. " I came to beg 
 you to go to drive with me the afternoon is 
 so charming ! but, since you are engaged, I 
 shall not press the point ; and, indeed, this 
 cool drawing-room is pleasanter than the 
 dusty avenue. You see I have brought Cap- 
 tain Tyndale in with me. I told him that, if 
 we were very good, perhaps you would give us 
 some iced tea and bread-and-butter." 
 
 "You shall have as much as you please 
 of both," said Leslie, turning with a smile to 
 greet Max ; and then Mrs. Sandford, wakening 
 
 to a consciousness of Arthur's existence, put 
 out a delicate, gloved hand to him. 
 
 " I thought that I was not to have any 
 recognition at all," he said, taking it with a 
 very effective air of reproach. 
 
 " I am not sure that you deserve any," 
 answered she, opening the blue eyes, if pos- 
 sible, still wider. " When one neglects his 
 old friends, as you have done, he deserves 
 nothing better than to be neglected in turn. 
 Even an engagement is not an excuse for 
 every thing I " 
 
 " It ought to be, then," said he. " Come, 
 you must let me make my peace ! I really 
 cannot afford to quarrel with you we have 
 been friends too long." 
 
 " Perhaps some day I may like you as 
 well as ever again," said she, nonchalantly, 
 but at present you are hopelessly out of my 
 good graces. It is not only on account of 
 your atrocious neglect ; but I forswear en- 
 gaged men on principle. They are always 
 stupid." 
 
 "I am sure nobody could be stupid with 
 you," said Tyndale, falling into his old habit 
 of flattery. Men always flattered Mrs. Sand- 
 ford, It was not only the easiest way of en- 
 tertaining her, but it was an incense with 
 which she soon made it patent that she could 
 not dispense. 
 
 " Oh, what a mistake ! " cried she, laugh- 
 ing Tyndale, who had of late grown very 
 fastidious, thought what an empty laugh it 
 was, and how wide she opened her mouth 
 "any amount of people are stupid with me. 
 I wish I did know how to keep them from 
 being so I should not be bored to death half 
 of my time, then ! It would be better than 
 an invisible cap, or a wishing-carpet, or any 
 thing of that kind. Oh, dear, what a charm- 
 ing place this is ! " she went on, sinking down 
 on a sofa, and looking about her. " No won- 
 der you find it difficult to tear yourself away. 
 Leslie, dear, will it inconvenience you to 
 order some tea ? This warm, dusty weather 
 makes one feel horribly in need of refresh- 
 ment." 
 
 Mrs. Sanford's manners were certainly 
 very free and easy, but Leslie was accus- 
 tomed to them ; so, she rang the bell and 
 ordered the tea of which it may be said 
 that a large amount was always made in the 
 morning, and set away in ice to cool in the 
 most thorough manner by evening. It was 
 soon served, together with the bread-and-
 
 A PRETTY PICTURE. 
 
 butter which Mrs. Sandford had promised 
 Captain Tyndale. 
 
 " If you don't like this, you shall have 
 some iced claret," said Leslie, turning, with a 
 smile, to Max. 
 
 " Why should you think I don't like it ? " 
 said he. "I am a Frenchman, it is true, but 
 I can drink something besides cafe noir and 
 absinthe. Those are what Americans take to 
 be a Frenchman's favorite beverages are 
 they not ? " 
 
 " I don't think we do you so much injus- 
 tice," said Mrs. Sandford. " I, for one, always 
 associate the idea of a Frenchman with cham- 
 pagne. Something light and sparkling, and 
 altogether charming, you know." 
 
 " There, Max ! " cried Arthur, laughing. 
 " Never say again that nobody compliments 
 you, iny good fellow." 
 
 " I should not think of appropriating 
 such a compliment," said Max. " In the 
 first place, I am only half a Frenchman, 
 and, in the second place, even that fund 
 of vanity, which always stands a man in 
 such good stead, fails to countenance the 
 idea that I am either light, sparkling, or al- 
 together charming." 
 
 " Perhaps you are not the best judge of 
 that," said Leslie, smiling. 
 
 In this way they laughed and talked, 
 while they drank the liquid amber, which 
 was called tea, and ate the light wafers that 
 passed under the name of bread. Mrs. Mid- 
 dleton, who entered the room soon after this, 
 thought what a pretty picture they made, 
 gathered in the neighborhood of a large bay- 
 window, through which a flood of golden sun- 
 light was streaming into the room, gleaming 
 about the tea-equipage, touching the mirrors 
 and pictures with a glow of crimson bright- 
 ness, and outlining Leslie's graceful head like 
 a figure in a pre-Raphaelite picture. Outside 
 the window, the roses were climbing and 
 clustering, and loading the air with summer 
 sweetness. In the street, above the roll 
 of carriages, and the fast-trotting tramp of 
 horses' feet, sounded the sweet strains of a 
 German band, playing a Strauss waltz ; Mrs. 
 Sandford looked up, and gave one of her effu- 
 sive exclamations : 
 
 " my dear, dear Mrs. Middleton, think 
 how charming!" she cried. "You are all 
 going into the country to spend the summer, 
 Leslie tells me, and I am obliged to go down 
 to that very county, to visit sonic relations 
 
 who think that I have neglected them shame- 
 fully. I thought that I was going to be terri- 
 bly bored ; and it is an intense relief to know 
 that I shall have such delightful neighbors. 
 But you must not be surprised if you see me 
 at Rosland perpetually." 
 
 " We shall be very glad to see you as 
 often as you can come," said Mrs. Middleton, 
 hospitably. She had no particular fancy for 
 Mrs. Sanford, but everybody received her, 
 and she was, as Tyndale had once said, 
 "good company" that is, she was always 
 in a good - humor, and always to be relied 
 upon in any social emergency. 
 
 " Oh, how delightful ! " repeated that en- 
 thusiastic lady. Then she turned to Tyndale. 
 " I shall be so glad to see your place," she 
 said. " My cousins, who live in the neigh- 
 borhood, tell me that it is beautiful. Don't 
 you mean to give a ball or something of the 
 sort when you go down as a house-warming, 
 you know ? " 
 
 " I really had not thought of it," said he. 
 
 " Oh, but you ought if only to show peo- 
 ple how charmingly you mean to live ! I must 
 speak to Leslie, and make her persuade you 
 to do it. Mrs. Middleton, don't you think he 
 ought ? People who have pretty, old places, 
 and don't use them, should be obliged to give 
 them to people who would. I agree with the 
 socialists that far ! " 
 
 " Suppose you take Strafford off my hands, 
 then ? " said he, laughing, but scarcely conceal- 
 ing the fact that he was exceedingly bored. 
 He looked round for Leslie, but, when Mrs. 
 Middleton's appearance had relieved Miss 
 Grahame from the duties of hostess, she had 
 taken Captain Tyndale out into the gar- 
 den. 
 
 " I think I have heard you say that you, 
 like roses," she said to him. " Come and 
 look at ours. They are in their glory." 
 
 He assented willingly as, indeed, he would 
 have been apt to assent to any thing which 
 she proposed. Leslie was not at all aware of 
 the peculiar regard which this somewhat im- 
 passive soldier entertained for her. She might 
 have been flattered if she had known that 
 she embodied to him more of the gentleness 
 and refinement, the sweetness and grace of 
 womanhood, than he had ever met before in 
 the whole course of his life. Like most men 
 of his class men of active pursuits and re- 
 fined tastes he had little fancy for the 
 order of women technically called " loud."
 
 24 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 He had flirted with them, talked of them, 
 toasted them, perhaps but, all the same, he 
 had his ideal, with which not one of these 
 modern heroines had a single attribute in 
 common. This ideal was one that in the 
 masculine mind has uo doubt existed since 
 the days of Adam a gentle, graceful, femi- 
 nine abstraction, hedged about with a divine 
 atmosphere of high - breeding and heavenly 
 virtues. To this ideal Miss Grahame up- 
 preached very closely, and she had conse- 
 quently proved very attractive to him so 
 attractive, indeed, that if Arthur Tyndale's 
 suit had not teen very far advanced before 
 his cousin came on the scene, there is no 
 telling how soon Max might have laid his lau- 
 rels of Algiers and Gravelotte at Leslie's feet. 
 
 Neither is it possible to tell what success 
 he might have won. The mind grows dizzy 
 in considering what toys of circumstance we 
 are how absolutely and entirely the whole 
 course and meaning of our lives seem to hinge 
 on the idlest turns of chance. Thinking of 
 these things, we feel like children in the dark, 
 fearing to take a step in any direction lest we 
 should encounter some unforeseen disaster, or 
 avoid some great good. If Max Tyndalc had 
 come into Leslie's life before his cousin, and 
 had gained, perhaps for many unlikelier 
 things have happened his cousin's place in 
 her heart, one thing at least might have been 
 predicted, that, although society would have 
 been more chary of its compliments, and 
 Mr. and Mrs. Middleton probably less suave 
 in their consent, Leslie herself would never 
 have had to fear the dissimulation which Ar- 
 thur Tyndale had already displayed, nor the 
 treachery which he might yet display. 
 
 Such thoughts as these were very far from 
 her mind, however, as she walked down the 
 garden-paths, pointing out her favorite roses 
 to Max, and laughing over his lamentable ig- 
 norance of rose-nomenclature. 
 
 " I confess that I don't know much about 
 the names of flowers," he said, at last, with 
 unnecessary candor. "It always seemed to 
 me a matter of very small importance. They 
 are meant to be sources of enjoyment not 
 occasions of study, or weary exercise of the 
 memory." 
 
 " But it is not weary to people who love 
 roses to remember that this is a Malmaison, 
 and that a Noisette," said Leslie, smiling. 
 "When will those who don't like certain 
 things comprehend that others may like them ? 
 
 Now, /should think there was nothing in the 
 world half so tiresome as military tactics ! " 
 
 "But that has use in it," said he. 
 
 "And do you think there is no use in 
 flowers because one does not often 'brain a 
 tyrant with a rose ? ' " 
 
 " There is use iu them, as there is use in 
 music and poetry," said Max, who, it must be 
 confessed, was rather utilitarian than aesthetic 
 in his bias. "The world would be a much 
 darker and narrower place without them." 
 
 "While with them, what a bright and 
 happy place it is ! " said Leslie, lifting her fail- 
 face to the sunset glow. "Do you know," 
 she went on, suddenly, speaking almost wist- 
 fully, " that I sometimes think I have too 
 many of the good things of life for one per- 
 son ? Sometimes it strikes me that I must 
 surely have some one else's share of prosperi- 
 ty besides my own. I have never had a trou- 
 ble nor the least shade of a trouble in my 
 life ; and now I am so very happy ! " she 
 spoke with the simplicity of a child " surely 
 it is not right I mean, surely it is more than. 
 I deserve." 
 
 "J think it is quite right," said Max. 
 " Nobody ever deserved the good gifts of For- 
 tune more than you do, and hereafter I shall 
 think better of the jade for having shown so 
 much discrimination for once." 
 
 " You are jesting, while I am in earnest," 
 said she, looking at him with her soft gray 
 eyes. "You cannot tell how often I have 
 thought of this, lately. Every thing about 
 my life is so bright surely too bright to last ! 
 I cannot dismiss the idea that some trouble 
 must be in store to counterbalance it all." 
 
 "You are wrong to indulge such thoughts," 
 said Max, seriously. "You are darkening 
 the present sunshine by forebodings of clouds 
 that come soon enough in every life." 
 
 "I never had such forebodings before," 
 said she. 
 
 He was on the point of answering, " Be- 
 cause you never before put your happiness 
 into the keeping of another," but he re- 
 strained the words in time. It was true 
 enough ; but why should he say it ? Why 
 should he put the fact which might yet be 
 a grim one plainly before Leslie ? He could 
 not, however, help wondering if any subtle 
 distrust of Arthur caused the foreboding to 
 which she alluded ; and, strangely enough, 
 Leslie with a woman's quick instinct 
 turned to answer the suspicion.
 
 ARRIVAL OF NOR AH DESMOND. 
 
 25 
 
 " I don't think any woman ever had better 
 assurances of happiness than I have," she 
 said. "And it is because I am so particular- 
 ly so exceptionally fortunate, that I feel in 
 this way." 
 
 "I understand," said Captain Tyndale. 
 " It is natural enough. And yet, if I might 
 venture to advise, I would beg you to enjoy 
 the present and let the future take care of it- 
 self, since you cannot like the Greek king 
 in one of Schiller's ballads throw a ring into 
 the sea as a propitiation to the gods." 
 
 "Perhaps my propitiation might be re- 
 jected, as that of poor Polycrates was," said 
 Leslie, smiling. Then she added more grave- 
 ly : " We are both talking like heathens. Of 
 course, I know who gives both good and ill 
 fortune ; and, while I am grateful for the 
 first, I trust I should neither despair nor 
 rebel under the last." 
 
 "I am sure you would not," said Max. 
 "If I put my heel on that lily," he said, 
 pointing to one in a bed near by, " it would 
 be none the le?s sweet after it was crushed. 
 Such is the nature of lilies." 
 
 Leslie laughed a little. ''-You are very 
 kind," she said. Then, feeling thut the con- 
 versation was becoming too personal, she 
 changed it with her graceful tact. "I am 
 old-fashioned enough to love these pure white 
 lilies," she said, stooping to pull one. " Our 
 neighbor, Mrs. Moncure, who has a great 
 many varieties of new - fashioned Japanese 
 lilies, quite scorns them." 
 
 " As I should probably scorn the Japanese 
 lilies, if I saw them," said Max. " Who 
 cares for those gaudy, striped things ? One 
 might as well have a tulip or a peony. But 
 the lily of tradition and of poetry the flower 
 of the Annunciation the flour de lis of France 
 the emblem of purity and fragrance the 
 symbol of the saints one cannot love that 
 too well." 
 
 "So I think," said Leslie. "And I am 
 glad that there is one flower about which you 
 know how to be enthusiastic," she added, 
 " though I fancy it is not so much the flower 
 as its associations that please you. Now, 
 shall we go back to the drawing-room ? Per- 
 haps Arthur has finished his flirtation with 
 Mrs. Sandford by this time. It is a good 
 thing that I am not jealous, is it not? " 
 
 " A very good thing," he answered. But, 
 as they turned their steps toward the draw- 
 ing-room, he could not help wondering wheth- 
 
 er a real cause for jealousy would not shatter 
 this sweet, placid calm. His heart misgave 
 him or, to speak more correctly, his judg- 
 ment warned him concerning the probable 
 result of Arthur's meeting with Norah Des- 
 mond. " Unstable as water," seemed in Max's 
 mind a text specially suited to his cousin ; 
 and, like most men of cool, determined char- 
 acter, he felt something closely akin to con- 
 tempt for the other's shifting vacillation. " If 
 I have any influence over him, he'll keep 
 straight with regard to this/" he thought. 
 Much as she liked him, Leslie had little idea 
 what a champion had buckled on armor in 
 her behalf. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 "A woman in whom majesty and sweetness 
 Blend to such issues of serene completeness, 
 That to gaze on her were a prince's boon ! 
 The calm of evening, the large pomp of noon, 
 Arc hers ; soft May morns, melting June 
 Hold not such tender languishments as those 
 Which steep her in that dew-light of repose, 
 
 That floats a dreamy balm around the full-blown 
 rose." 
 
 MAT and June passed burdening the 
 earth with their wealth of fragrant bloom 
 and it was on one of the earlier days of July 
 that Miss Grahame's pony-carriage drove up 
 to the station of Wexford, distant seventeen 
 miles from Alton, just before the down ex- 
 press was due at 6.40 P. M. The Middleton 
 household, with all its belongings, had been 
 domesticated, for a month or more, at Ros- 
 land ; but the day before this, Mr. Middleton 
 had gone up to the city to meet Miss Des- 
 mond, who telegraphed an announcement of 
 her safe arrival on American shores. 
 
 " Jump down and go round to their heads, 
 Guy," Leslie said to the groom, as she checked 
 her horses. " I hear the train coming, and 
 Romulus is always foolish. S oh steady, 
 sir!" 
 
 She pulled in the reins sharply it was 
 surprising how much vigor was in those slen- 
 der wrists as one of the ponies threw up his 
 head nervously ; but Guy a lithe, half-grown 
 boy was on the ground and at their bits 
 when the engine, with its long train of vibrat- 
 ing cars, came shrieking and whistling, like a 
 lunatic fiend, around a curve. 
 
 As it drew up with one short, defiant snort 
 before the station, not a few dusty women
 
 26 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 and linen-coated men looked out, with that 
 interest which any passing event always 
 arouses in the traveling mind, at the pretty, 
 low-swung phaeton, the white ponies hand- 
 somely set off by blue reins, and the graceful 
 girl, whose fresh, summer costume was not 
 concealed by the carriage- wrap drawn partly 
 over it. 
 
 " Oh, how charming ! Shouldn't you like 
 to have it?" said one or two enthusiastic 
 young ladies, referring, in a lucid way, to the 
 phaeton and ponies. 
 
 "Very neat turnout!" said one or two 
 men, approvingly. 
 
 " Amazingly pretty girl, by George ! " 
 added several others, staring at the delicate 
 face, which was half turned away from 
 them. 
 
 For, unconscious of the admiration which 
 her equipage and herself were exciting, Leslie 
 was gazing eagerly along the platform for the 
 appearance of her uncle and his companion. 
 She could with difficulty realize that she was 
 about to meet the sister whom she had never* 
 seen, and her heart was beating nervously. 
 What would she be like ? Had she (Leslie) 
 done well or ill ? Another minute would de- 
 cide something at least. 
 
 "Do you see any signs of them, Guy?" 
 she asked of the groom, who was in a better 
 position for observation than herself. 
 
 " Ycs'rn yonder comes master," he an- 
 swered. 
 
 Leslie's heart gave a leap into her throat, 
 it seemed as Mr. Middleton, with a lady on 
 his arm, emerged from the fluctuating crowd 
 around the cars, and advanced toward her. 
 She stepped from the phaeton, and, even at 
 that moment so quick is the feminine eye 
 she saw that her sister was tall, and walked 
 with remarkable grace. 
 
 " Well, Leslie, here she is ! " said Mr. Mid- 
 dleton, as they met. " I suppose there's no 
 need to introduce you to each other." 
 
 " I should think not, indeed ! " said Leslie, 
 with her sweet smile. " Norah, how glad 
 I am to see you, dear ! " 
 
 She put out both hands as she spoke : her 
 whole heart seemed quivering on the lips that 
 touched the fair face slightly bent toward 
 her. Absorbed in her own emotion, she did 
 not feel what Mr. Middleton observed that 
 the eager warmth of her greeting was rather 
 received than returned. 
 . " Thanks you are very kind," said the 
 
 stranger, in a voice which, though musical, was 
 slightly cold. " I hope we shall like each other." 
 
 " I am sure of it," said Leslie, quickly. 
 "You must not 'hope' such a thing, because 
 to hope implies a little doubt. Come, put her 
 in the phaeton, uncle. I brought it because 
 I wanted her all to myself. The barouche is 
 here for you." 
 
 "That is a good thing," said Mr. Middle- 
 ton, as he assisted Miss Desmond into the 
 luxurious little carriage. " Things always 
 happen, and people turn up, just when they 
 are not expected," he went on, philosophical- 
 ly. " To my surprise, I met Carl in the city. 
 He came down with us, and is looking after 
 the trunks just now." 
 
 " Carl ! " repeated Leslie, astonished at 
 this off-hand announcement. "But I thought 
 Carl was in Germany ? " 
 
 " So did I, until I met him in Alton," an- 
 swered Mr. Middleton. Then, as the train 
 moved off, he glanced round. "Here he 
 comes," he said, carelessly. This indifference 
 was his way of showing the vexation he felt 
 at the neglect which had so long delayed that 
 coming. 
 
 Leslie turned also. A young man in a 
 gray traveling-suit and cap was advancing 
 down the platform, with the light and pecul- 
 iarly springy step that few men retain after 
 twenty-three or four a good-looking young 
 fellow, with a rich dash of auburn in his 
 brown hair and eyes and brows that might 
 have been painted to match. He wore no 
 beard, and his flexile lips curled upward at 
 the corners, as those of a laughter-loving na- 
 ture always do, while there was a gleam of 
 fun in his eyes which often tried the patience 
 of soberly - disposed people very severely. 
 This was the lighter side of Carl Middleton's 
 character, however. That there was another, 
 those who knew him well were thoroughly 
 aware. The dash of red in his hair, together 
 with one or two straight lines between the 
 brows, were sufficient indications of the pas- 
 sionate though somewhat volatile vehemence 
 that always accompanies the mercurial tem- 
 perament, in feeling and action. 
 
 " You are surprised to see rne, are you 
 not ? " he said, after the first greeting be- 
 tween Leslie and himself was over. " You 
 didn't imagine that I had been Miss Des- 
 mond's traveling companion ? Uncle George's 
 face was a study when he met us in Alton 
 this morning ! "
 
 ON THE WAY TO ROSLAXD. 
 
 " Did you come over with Norah ? " said 
 Leslie, with surprise. " You are certainly the 
 most incomprehensible person ! Why did you 
 not write to say that you were coming, or 
 why did you not telegraph when you ar- 
 rived ? " 
 
 " Why should I have done either? " asked 
 he. " Here I am all right, and I did not ex- 
 pect anybody to meet me. I made up my mind 
 to sail at an hour's notice. By Jove, Leslie ! 
 may I say how much you are improved ? I 
 should have come home a year ago if I had 
 known you were as pretty as this ! " 
 
 " Should you ? " said Leslie. " It is a good 
 thing you did not know it, then ; I am sure 
 you must have enjoyed the year much more 
 in Europe than you would have done here. 
 You have improved, too, since you were a 
 red-haired boy, and the torment of my life," 
 she added, smiling. " I am very glad to see 
 it, and very glad to see you, too ; but I must 
 really go now, for I cannot keep Norah wait- 
 ing while we exchange compliments. That 
 can be done at our leisure when we reach 
 Rosland." 
 
 " And how am I to reach Rosland ? " he 
 asked, as he assisted her into the phaeton, 
 whore Miss Desmond was seated, leaning back 
 on the low seat, and looking meditatively at 
 the ponies. 
 
 " You are to go in the barouche with 
 uncle," answered Leslie, gathering up her 
 reins. " Come, Guy ! " 
 
 " May not I play tiger for once ? " asked 
 Carl, holding Guy back at arm's-length, much 
 to that bebuttoned individual's surprise. 
 
 " No, you may not," answered Miss Gra- 
 hame, decidedly. " You are to go with uncle ; 
 and I have no doubt that the freedom to smoke 
 a cigar will amply console you for the loss of 
 our society." 
 
 " You think so because you don't know 
 how much I should enjoy your society," said 
 he. But he released Guy, who was in his seat 
 in a moment. 
 
 " We'll be along, Leslie, as soon as the 
 servants have managed to dispose of Miss 
 Desmond's trunks," said Mr. Middlcton, who 
 was standing by the barouche. 
 
 Leslie nodded, and, flicking Romulus and 
 Remus lightly with the whip, the phaeton 
 bowled easily down a green country lane, leav- 
 ing Carl standing with his cap off watching 
 them as they drove away. 
 
 Then it was that Miss Grahame began to 
 
 be conscious that her companion had not 
 spoken since their first greeting ; and, anx- 
 ious to avoid any thing like awkwardness, 
 she plunged at once into conversation fall- 
 ing, of course, upon an undeniable common- 
 place : 
 
 " I am afraid you have had such a warm, 
 dusty day for traveling." 
 
 " It has not been agreeable," answered 
 her companion, in the same musical voice 
 which had struck her in its first utterance 
 a voice that spoke English with a slightly 
 foreign accent " but summer traveling never 
 is agreeable, I fancy. One must always ex- 
 pect heat and dust." 
 
 " But at least I hope your ocean-voyage 
 was pleasant ? " 
 
 " Yes very. I always enjoy the ocean. 
 There is nothing like it in the world, I 
 think." 
 
 " So do I though I have never seen very 
 much of it. And it was pleasant that Carl 
 should have crossed with you ! I hope he 
 found you out soon I mean, found out who 
 you were ? " 
 
 " He did not need to find me out," was 
 the quiet but very unexpected reply. " We 
 knew each other before. It came in his way 
 to do papa some slight favor in Paris last 
 spring ; and so I had already met him." 
 
 " Met him ! " exclaimed Leslie " met 
 Carl ! " She was so taken aback by this 
 third surprise, that for a minute she could 
 say nothing more. Then she added, on the 
 first impulse of astonishment : " How very 
 extraordinary ! I mean how very singular 
 that he should never have mentioned it." 
 
 " I am not sure that it was singular," said 
 Miss Desmond, indifferently though an in- 
 crease of color rose into her face " the f^ct 
 may have escaped his mind as one of slight 
 importance, or he may not have considered 
 us in the light of very desirable acquaint- 
 ances. Certainly we are not people of whose 
 social countenance any one is likely to boast." 
 
 " Norah ! " said Leslie, almost indignantly. 
 A tide of blood came into her face, a thrill 
 of reproach into her voice. " How can you 
 speak so ! " she went on quickly. " It would 
 be unjust to Carl if you meant it in earnest. 
 Even in jest, it is unjust to yourself." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said the other. "I 
 forgot that you did not understand how we 
 Bohemians feel. I forgot, also, that Kate's 
 last injunction was to beg me not to shock
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 you. ' Remember that you are going among 
 respectable people,' she said, and ' try to be 
 respectable too.' " 
 
 " Try to be respectable ! " repeated Les- 
 lie, smiling it was impossible not to smile at 
 the humor iu Norah's eyes, as she uttered 
 the last words " but are you not respectable 
 already ? If you are not, pray tell me what 
 constitutes respectability." 
 
 " A gig, does it not ? " asked Miss Des- 
 mond, quite innocently. " You know Carlyle 
 says so. I suppose your phaeton bow pretty 
 it ia, by-the-by ! might come under that 
 head." 
 
 " Let us hope so, at least," was the reply. 
 " Then we shall be able to esteem ourselves 
 safely respectable for the time being. Not 
 but that respectability is a very good thing in 
 its way," Miss Grahame pursued, reflectively 
 thinking, perhaps, that it would be as well to 
 give a slight admonition to her companion 
 " and women in especial are apt to fare very 
 badly if they venture to disregard its codes. 
 You look as if you thought that a very stale 
 commonplace. So it is ; but many stale things 
 are true things none the less. Now, I am not 
 easily shocked, dear, but I hope you will for- 
 give me when I say that many other people 
 are." 
 
 There was so much of gentle wistfulness 
 in this last sentence that it would have been 
 impossible for the most irascible person to be 
 provoked by it ; and Norah Desmond only 
 smiled. 
 
 " I suppose you are thinking of your owii 
 people," she said. " Well, I shall try not to 
 shock them. Bohemian though I am, I can 
 play grande dame when I like." 
 
 " I think Nature intended that you should 
 play it all the time," said Leslie, with a glance 
 of involuntary admiration at the beautiful 
 face, which was also a proud face. 
 
 " No," was the careless reply. " Noth- 
 ing cramps and wearies me more. I am like 
 my father, who seems to have something of 
 the gypsy in him something which always 
 has made him unable to endure the pressure 
 of conventional respectability very long." 
 
 " I hope she will not say any thing like 
 that to Aunt Mildred," thought Leslie, half 
 amused and half dismayed to imagine the 
 manner in which Mrs. Middleton would re- 
 gard such a declaration, as realizing her 
 worst fears of what Mr. Desmond's daughter 
 might be. A slight sensation of foreboding 
 
 began to come over Miss Grahame as she ap- 
 preciated more clearly than she had done be- 
 fore the nature of the jarring elements she 
 was about to bring together. What would 
 be the end of it ? Would Norah gracefully 
 conciliate the prejudices which were already 
 in arms against her, or would she openly 
 brave and defy them ? With all her anxiety 
 that the former course should be adopted, 
 Leslie could not bring herself to offer a 
 stronger hint than she had already uttered. 
 And so it was that, for a little time, silence 
 fell. The ponies trotted along a level stretch 
 of well-shaded road, with the slanting gold 
 of the sunlight streaming in serene glory 
 through the brown trunks of the trees, and 
 on the green depths of the foliage, while Guy, 
 sitting bolt upright in his tiny seat, absorbed 
 in the contemplation of his buttons, took a 
 short nap, and nearly fell off before Miss 
 Desmond spoke again : 
 
 " I had no idea you lived in the country. 
 I thought your uncle had a house in the city 
 Alton, isn't it? where he met me to-day." 
 
 " We do not live in the country," Leslie 
 answered. " We have only come down to 
 Rosland for the summer. Our home is in 
 Alton." 
 
 " Ah, I see ! you are at your country- 
 house d la grand seigneur. But have you 
 much of a neighborhood ? Pastoral seclusion 
 may be exceedingly elegant, but it is also 
 very apt to be dull, I think." 
 
 " There is something of a neighborhood 
 enough, I hope, to keep you from being dull." 
 
 "I was not thinking of myself," was (he 
 quiet reply. " All modes of life come alike 
 to me. I fancy I have run the gamut of 
 them, from highest to lowest. Consequently, 
 I have learned a very useful philosophy, 
 which enables me to be resigned to any thing 
 and surprised at nothing." Then, as they 
 drove by the palings of a green park, full of 
 massive old trees, through which the chim- 
 neys and gables of a house were visible, she 
 added, " That looks as if it might be a pretty 
 place." 
 
 " It is a pretty place," said Leslie, with 
 the guelder - rose color deepening on her 
 cheek, " the prettiest in the country, I 
 think, though there are several more hand- 
 some, and many better kept up." 
 
 " Who is the owner ? " asked Miss Des- 
 mond, lifting her veil for the first time and 
 leaning forward.
 
 MRS. MIDDLETON'S SUSPICIONS. 
 
 29 
 
 " A person of whom you have heard," an- 
 swered Leslie. " This is the Tyndale place, 
 and belongs to Arthur the Arthur of whom 
 I have written you." 
 
 " Ah 1 " 
 
 It was a quick interjection, uttered more 
 to herself than to her companion, but Leslie 
 thought that it denoted interest, and went 
 on : 
 
 " The house is picturesque, as you see, 
 and quite old that is, for any thing Ameri- 
 can. No doubt you would think it very mod- 
 ern. It has been in the family for several 
 generations, and came to Arthur when he 
 was a mere boy. He had not seen it for 
 years until this summer ; but he has been so 
 much surprised and delighted by its beauty 
 that I think it will be his principal home 
 hereafter." 
 
 Miss Desmond made no reply. It would 
 have been only courteous, it seemed, if she 
 had evinced a little interest in the subject 
 thus introduced ; but she gave no response 
 by word or look to Leslie's speech. All her 
 admiration of the Tyndale place suddenly ap- 
 peared to vanish. She leaned back without 
 another glance toward it, but she did not 
 draw down her veil, and so it was that, for 
 the first time, Leslie saw what she looked 
 like. 
 
 Now, as a general rule, it would be doing 
 a woman gross injustice to judge of her looks 
 when she has just ended a long and fatiguing 
 journey ; but there are particular cases, as 
 well as general rules, and it will be readily 
 admitted that, if a woman is found to bear 
 such a severe test with even moderate suc- 
 cess, it may be safely predicated of her, as 
 of Olivia, that her beauty " is in the grain, 
 and will endure wind and weather." This 
 test Norah Desmond stood triumphantly. 
 Even Leslie, with that greatest medium for 
 flattery of our day a painted photograph 
 in her mind, could not think that she had 
 ever seen a more beautiful face than the one 
 beside her. It was not only the regular, 
 clearly-cut features, the skin white as milk 
 and smooth as marble, the scarlet lips so 
 proudly curved and firmly closed, the rich 
 masses of hair, chestnut in the shade, spun 
 gold in the sun, nor the large, full eyes, also 
 chestnut in tint as the old chronicles tell 
 us that Mary Stuart's were which fascinated 
 her so much. It was something deeper and 
 more subtile than the mere loveliness of flesh 
 
 and blood. Listless as the face looked, it 
 was not cold ; quiet as it seemed, it was not 
 tame. On the contrary, it was easy to tell 
 that it possessed, in superlative degree, that 
 mobility of feature which distinguishes the 
 Irish physiognomy; that a magnetism not 
 to be put into words might dwell in the smile 
 of the lips, a something almost akin to majes- 
 ty shine out of the magnificent depths of 
 the eyes. " I think I shall certainly like 
 her!" Leslie thought, and at that moment 
 the eyes in question turned and met her 
 own. 
 
 "Well," said their possessor, quietly, 
 " what do you think of me ? Am I as pretty 
 as my likeness ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said Leslie, quick- 
 ly. " I did not mean to be rude. But you 
 must be accustomed to staring by this time, I 
 should think." 
 
 " You were not rude," said the other. 
 " It was very natural you should look at me. 
 I only wanted to know if you are disappoint- 
 ed in my appearance. Kate said that the 
 photograph I sent you was flattered." 
 
 " Tell Kate that she was never more mis- 
 taken," said Miss Grahame, warmly. "I 
 thought the photograph lovely, but you you 
 are far more beautiful than it is." 
 
 " Thanks ! " said Norah. But she must 
 have been well used to compliments, for her 
 color did not deepen in the least even at those 
 enthusiastic words. 
 
 A few minutes later they entered the 
 gates of Rosland, and were bowling rapidly 
 around the carriage-drive to the front of the 
 house. 
 
 " It is not much of a place," Leslie said, 
 half apologetically. 
 
 "At least it looks very pretty," Norah 
 truthfully answered. 
 
 It did look pretty, undoubtedly. There 
 were no pretensions to architectural effect, 
 but home-like grace and lightness everywhere. 
 A green lawn sloped away into a flower-gar- 
 den on one side, and into shrubbery on the 
 other; a veranda, with arches overrun by 
 creepers, had chairs, books, and work, set 
 out on it, and lace-draped windows behind. 
 The wide hall, with its open doors, looked 
 spacious and airy, there was a fragrance of 
 flowers in the atmosphere, and the sinking 
 sun sent a flood of golden light across the 
 close-shaven lawn to the thick-set hedge be- 
 yond.
 
 30 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Leslie reined up Romulus and Remus be- 
 fore the door, and, giving the reins to Guy, 
 turned to her sister : 
 
 " Welcome to Rosland, Norah ! " she 
 said, eagerly. " I hope we may make you 
 happy, dear ! I am sure it makes me very 
 happy to know that you are with us. And 
 here is Aunt Mildred to bid you welcome, 
 too." 
 
 This Mrs. Middleton did with a very 
 charming grace and cordiality. Certainly 
 the young stranger who had come so entirely 
 unknowing and unknown among them could 
 not complain that any thing was lacking in 
 her welcome which the most carping spirit 
 of exaction might have required. After many 
 kind greetings had been uttered, and every 
 possible want of tired Nature anticipated, she 
 wag left alone in the chamber to which she 
 had been conducted ; and then Leslie came 
 back and stood in a triumphant glow before 
 her aunt. 
 
 " Well, Aunt Mildred, what do you think 
 of her ? " she cried. " Is she not superbly 
 beautiful ? " 
 
 " She is very handsome," said Mrs. Mid- 
 dleton. She spoke readily and not at all as 
 if the admission irked her, which it certainly 
 did.. " But she is not in the least like your 
 mother, Leslie. I cannot trace the faintest 
 resemblance between the two faces." 
 
 " I wish she were like mamma," said Les- 
 lie ; " and yet she is so lovely that it would 
 be wrong to desire any change in her. Did 
 you ever see such a complexion, or such eyes, 
 or such hair? " 
 
 "It certainly is a very striking kind of 
 beauty," said Mrs. Middleton. "As a mat- 
 ter of individual taste, I like something 
 quieter and more refined ; but, of course, no- 
 body can deny that she is very fine-looking." 
 
 " Fine-looking ! She is much more than 
 that," said Leslie, aggrieved at hearing the 
 beauty to which she had done generous hom- 
 age, damned by such faint praise. " She is 
 perfectly lovely! Wait until you see her 
 better dressed and less dusty." 
 
 " I never knew you so enthusiastic be- 
 fore," said Mrs. Middleton, with a smile that 
 was rather deprecating. 
 
 "You never knew- me before when I had 
 just met a sister whom I am sure I can ad- 
 mire, and whom I hope I can love," answered 
 Leslie, warmly. 
 
 "My dear!" said Mra. Middleton, in an 
 
 expostulatory tone. She looked at the eager 
 face before her, while a shade of the intense 
 prejudice she felt against the new-comer fell 
 over her own. But she was too wise as well 
 as too high-bred to say any thing which would 
 be " sharp," or likely to wound Leslie. So 
 she smiled again, but more faintly. "Don't 
 be in too much haste to give more than ad- 
 miration," she said. " Wait until you know 
 something of what lies under that handsome 
 face before you bestow the love of which you 
 speak." 
 
 " I think I know something of it already," 
 answered Leslie in whose excuse it may be 
 said that she was not prone often to the folly 
 of such rash judgment " I am sure she has 
 a noble character, though it has been warped 
 by circumstances. Please remember that, 
 Aunt Mildred," the eager voice went on. 
 " Please, in judging her, remember how dif- 
 ferent her life has been from ours." 
 
 " But that is the worst thing against her," 
 said Mrs. Middleton, who felt her heart hard- 
 ening momently. " Do you not see that, 
 though it may be an excuse, it is also a 
 ground for distrust ? Leslie, I am so sorry 
 that you have taken a fancy to the girl ! Such 
 impulses are always unwise, but in this in- 
 stance you may be preparing more of annoy- 
 ance and suffering for yourself than you can 
 imagine." 
 
 "I trust not," said Leslie, in her frank, 
 loyal voice. " But, even if it were so, it was 
 of Norah, and not of myself, I thought, in 
 sending for her. That for which I was and 
 am most anxious is to help her life, to do her 
 good ; and if this can be compassed, even at 
 the cost of a little annoyance and suffering to 
 myself, I shall not regret it. I confess, how- 
 ever, that I can see no cause to fear any thing 
 of the kind." 
 
 " I hope with all my heart that you may 
 be right," said Mrs. Middleton, with a sigh 
 'which was imbued with the strongest possi- 
 ble skepticism. " It is certainly too late now 
 to undo what has been done. But where is 
 your uncle ? Surely the barouche ought to 
 have been here before this." 
 
 " I left him at Wexford with Carl," re- 
 plied Leslie. " By-the-by, I have been so en- 
 grossed with Xorah that I have forgotten to 
 tell you Carl has arrived." 
 
 " Carl ! " echoed Mrs. Middleton, in a tone 
 of incredulous amazement. " Why, Carl is 
 in Europe ! "
 
 A FAMILY GATHERING. 
 
 31 
 
 "Just what I said to uncle," answered 
 Leslie, composedly. " But, of course, that 
 argument fell to the ground when Carl ap- 
 peared in person. You will be glad to hear 
 that he has grown amazingly, and is really 
 very good-looking." 
 
 " Carl ! " repeated Mrs. Middleton again, 
 as if she could not credit her own ears. 
 " But what is the meaning of it ? Why did 
 he not let us know when he left Europe ? 
 How long has he been in America ? " 
 
 " He came over in the same steamer with 
 Xorah, he says. I asked him why he had 
 not written, but he only laughed, and said 
 that he made up his mind at an hour's notice, 
 or something of that kind. Men can do such 
 things, you know. Yonder comes the ba- 
 rouche now, so you can question him at your 
 leisure. As for me, I must go and dress for 
 dinner." 
 
 She left the room Mrs. Middleton offer- 
 ing no opposition and went up-stairs just as 
 the barouche drove to the door. Pausing a 
 moment to glance over the balustrade, there 
 was a sparkle of amusement on her face which 
 might have puzzled the lady below. It arose 
 from the reflection that she would leave Carl 
 himself to announce the singular and (from 
 a Middleton point of view) unpalatable fact 
 of his acquaintance with the Desmond fam- 
 ily, and his incomprehensible concealment 
 thereof. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Go, lovely rose I 
 Tell her that wastes her time and me, 
 
 That now she knows, 
 When I resemble her to thee 
 How sweet and fair she seems to be." 
 
 AN hour later, it was a very pleasant and 
 sociable party that gathered around the Ros- 
 land dinner-table. There were no guests in 
 the house for Mrs. Middleton had been care- 
 ful that none should be invited at the time 
 when Miss Desmond was expected but there 
 was nothing of the heavy atmosphere which 
 usually pervades a strictly family gathering. 
 Both host and hostess were too well-bred to 
 suffer any of the annoyance which they felt 
 to betray itself in their manner, and Leslie 
 brought all her reserve of graceful tact and 
 social knowledge into action. She had felt 
 a little uneasiness as she dressed for dinner; 
 but a sense of pleasant reassurance came to 
 
 her as she entered the drawing-room just 
 after the bell rang, and found her aunt and 
 uncle laughing over one of Carl's anecdotes. 
 The frank atmosphere of unclouded good- 
 humor showed her at once how foolish she 
 had been to fear any uncomfortable con- 
 straint in people who held the slightest de- 
 viation from the strict rule of courtesy equal 
 to a breach of the Decalogue. " Under-bred 
 people always show at once whatever they 
 are thinking and feeling," Mrs. Middleton 
 often said. " Really well-bred people never 
 do, unless for some good reason. Believe 
 me, my dear, that is, after all, the great dis- 
 tinction between the two classes." 
 
 " Well, Leslie, how did you get on with 
 your new sister ? " asked Mr. Middleton, turn- 
 ing round as she entered. "I thought as I 
 saw you driving off that the first advances 
 toward acquaintanceship might be a little 
 awkward eh ? " 
 
 " I did not find them so," replied Leslie. 
 " I think we got on very well indeed better 
 than you would fancy, perhaps. But, what 
 did you think of her, uncle ? " 
 
 " I think she is one of the handsomest 
 women I have ever seen," answered he, frank- 
 ly. " Beyond this fact I can scarcely say that 
 I have formed an opinion, except that her 
 manner is decidedly cold, and rather calcu- 
 lated to repulse one." 
 
 " I am inclined to think that is a form 
 of the antagonism which people who are not 
 quite sure of their social position often dis- 
 play," remarked Carl. " You must blame 
 the circumstances of her life for it. Her 
 manner loses all that hauteur, and is exqui- 
 sitely charming when she is once thoroughly 
 at ease." 
 
 " You seem to know a great deal about 
 her," said Mrs. Middleton, with a slight accent 
 of suspicion in her tone. 
 
 " I have seen a good deal of her," said 
 the young man, quietly ; " and I have noticed 
 the peculiarity to which I allude. She is too 
 refined to be defiant or self-asserting, so she 
 meets patronage and slights with this proud 
 coldness." 
 
 " But we have no intention of either pa- 
 tronizing or slighting her," said Mr. Middleton. 
 
 "Granted, my dear sir; but remember, 
 in the first place, that she had no assurance 
 of that fact; and, in the second, that the 
 habit of years cannot be laid aside in a mo- 
 ment. I will wager any thing you please,
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 however, that her manner will be changed 
 entirely when she comes down to dinner. 
 There never was a woman quicker to take a 
 tone from others." 
 
 " But is she coming down to dinner ? " 
 said Mrs. Middleton, who just then felt more 
 interest in the soup than in Miss Desmond's 
 manner. " Perhaps she may be too much fa- 
 tigued to appear this evening. Leslie, do you 
 not think it would be well to send and ask if 
 she would not like to dine in her own room ? " 
 
 " I scarcely think " Leslie began, but 
 before she could finish her sentence the door 
 opened, and Miss Desmond entered. 
 
 Entered and walked down the long room 
 toward the waiting group with an ease and 
 grace that would not have misbecome a prin- 
 cess if princesses were always as princess- 
 like as they are generally supposed to be. 
 The repose of her manner was so perfect, and 
 her beauty was so brilliant, that she absolutely 
 dazzled them as she advanced. Even Mr. Mid- 
 dleton put up his eye - glass in amazement. 
 If he had thought her " the handsomest wom- 
 an he had ever seen," in a dusty traveling- 
 dress, he could almost (save that his age for 
 hyperbole was past) have likened her to a 
 goddess in the filmy draperies and becom- 
 ing adornment which she wore now. Tired, 
 as she might naturally have been supposed to 
 be, Miss Desmond had evidently been mindful 
 of the fact that first impressions last long, 
 and are very important; hence she had ex- 
 erted herself to make a toilet in which con- 
 summate knowledge of effect was veiled to all, 
 save the most critical eye, by a simplicity that 
 was in itself full of distinction. 
 
 " Am I late ? " she asked, as she reached 
 the group. " I am really very sorry. I hope 
 I have not kept you waiting long." 
 
 " You have not kept us waiting at all," 
 said Mrs. Middleton, courteously. " I am 
 only afraid that we have been selfish in ex- 
 pecting you to appear this evening. You 
 must feel exceedingly fatigued." 
 
 " On the contrary, I am not conscious of 
 any weariness at all," answered she simply. 
 " Fatigue absolute and real fatigue is some- 
 thing which I have never felt half a dozen 
 times in my life. I hope I do not look broken 
 down ? " she added, with a smile. 
 
 " Don't ask us to tell you how you look," 
 said Leslie. "We might fall into extrava- 
 gance, and say that you look like Juno dressed 
 by Worth." 
 
 I " In a manner you would be near the 
 truth, then," said Xorah, with her rare laugh. 
 " I cannot flatter myself that I look at all like 
 Juno, but my dress is modeled on one of 
 Worth's designs, though I have been dar- 
 ing enough to make several alterations. Do 
 you know I have an idea of setting up as his 
 rival ? They tell me everybody who knows 
 that in audacity and fertility of conception 
 I almost equal him. One should not praise 
 one's self, should one, Mrs. Middletou ? But 
 then, you know, such assurances as those 
 might intoxicate the soberest brain." 
 
 " Who is Worth a painter ? " asked Mr. 
 Middleton, regarding the young lady through 
 his glass as if she had been a lay-figure or a 
 picture. 
 
 There was a general laugh at this, which 
 the appearance of Robert and the announce- 
 ment of dinner somewhat shortened. 
 
 " Take Norah in at once, uncle, before you 
 disgrace yourself by any further display of ig- 
 norance," said Leslie. " No, thanks, Carl I 
 dislike to sandwich a man, even from the 
 drawing-room to the dining-room. Aunt Mil- 
 dred is enough of a charge for you." 
 
 " Your fiance ought to be on duty," said 
 Carl. " Where is he ? I give you warning 
 that, if he is not a wonderfully good fellow, I 
 mean to refuse my consent to this little mat- 
 rimonial arrangement which you have all got 
 up without consulting me." 
 
 "Arthur said he would not come over 
 this evening, since it is Norah's first among 
 us," Leslie answered, when they were seated 
 at table. "I thought it very considerate of 
 him ; but if I had known how well she could 
 look even after such an exhausting journey, 
 I think I should have told him that his con- 
 sideration was unnecessary." 
 
 Norah, who was seated in the full light 
 of the dying summer day, looked up at tins, 
 her already brilliant color deepening, perhaps, 
 by a shade. 
 
 " I wonder if I have not met Mr. Tyn- 
 dale," she said, quietly. " Has he ever been 
 abroad ? " 
 
 " He was abroad two or three years ago," 
 Leslie answered. "But, although it is likely 
 enough that you may have seen, it is not like- 
 ly that you knew him, for he told me some 
 time ago that, although he had seen you once 
 or twice, he had never had the pleasure of 
 knowing you." 
 
 " Indeed ! " Something like a glow came
 
 NORAH'S FORMER ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 33 
 
 into the eyes, and the scarlet lips curved as 
 if in faint scorn. "Did he chance to men- 
 tion where he had seen me ? " she asked 
 after a moment. 
 
 " I think he said it was at Baden or Hom- 
 burg," Leslie answered, vexed with herself 
 that she could not avoid coloring, as she re- 
 membered in what manner Arthur had spoken 
 of the regal-looking creature before her. 
 
 "Strangely enough, my idea was that I 
 had met him at one of those places," Norah 
 said, coolly, noting with keen eyes the flush 
 that dyed the face of the other. "Or per- 
 haps it is not strange, after all. Perhaps my 
 memory is better than his want of memory, 
 and I am right in thinking that I knew him, 
 or some other Mr. Tyndale, at one of those 
 spas." 
 
 " It could not have been Arthur ! " said 
 Leslie, with a positive air. " He certainly 
 could not have known you and forgotten it 
 especially since he remembered your appear- 
 ance perfectly, and recognized your likeness 
 at a glance." 
 
 " Mr. Tyndale has a cousin," said Mrs. 
 Middleton. " Perhaps it is he whom Miss 
 Desmond knew." 
 
 " I am not absolutely positive that I knew 
 any one of the name," said Miss Desmond, 
 abruptly. " One meets so many people at 
 least, I do that I often confound names, and 
 sometimes mistake identities. Perhaps the 
 Tyndale whom I remember was an English- 
 man, or perhaps " she lifted her glass of 
 wine to her lips just here " he may be dead 
 long ago." 
 
 " I am inclined to think that it was Cap- 
 tain Tyndale," said Leslie, meditatively. " He 
 is Arthur's cousin, but he is half a French- 
 man, and has lived in France almost all his 
 life. Nothing is more likely than that you 
 should have known him." 
 
 " He is well worth knowing," said Mr. 
 Middleton, chiming in just here. " I like 
 that young fellow he is sensible, straight- 
 forward, and a thorough gentleman, without 
 a particle of nonsense about him." 
 
 " He is an officer of the French army," 
 added Mrs. Middleton, " and is said to have 
 acted very gallantly at what was the name 
 of the battle, Leslie ? Of course, that is a 
 thing which we must take on trust ; but he is 
 certainly very pleasant." 
 
 "What is that?" said Carl, who had 
 pricked up his ears at the last announcement. 
 
 " Have you a fragment of the great wreck 
 over here ? I hope you have not been lion- 
 izing him, Leslie ? I'll send for a Uhlan or 
 two, if you want subjects for that kind of 
 amusement." 
 
 " You are very kind," said Leslie, " but 
 we generally find them to suit ourselves. 
 Following the example of the people who, in 
 advertising for servants, add, ' No Irish need 
 apply ! ' we generally make it understood that, 
 in securing subjects for lionizing, no Germans 
 need apply nor German sympathizers, ei- 
 ther ! " 
 
 " I see that I shall find very little appre- 
 ciation for my devotion to the Fatherland," 
 said he, shrugging his shoulders ; " that is, 
 unless I can persuade Miss Desmond to sing 
 ' Die Wacht am Rhein ' with me." 
 
 " I have not learned any thing since the 
 ' Marseillaise,' " said Norah, dryly. 
 
 " That is better than ' Partant pour la 
 Syrie,' at all events," muttered he. "It has 
 a history." 
 
 " Of the saiis -culottes and the Place de la 
 Greve," said Leslie. 
 
 "Add Belleville, Montmartre, and La Ro- 
 quette. We must not be personal, however. 
 Miss Desmond was in Paris during the reign 
 of the Commune, and she may have been a 
 p'droleuse." 
 
 " Norah, were you, indeed ? Tell us 
 about it ! " cried Leslie, eagerly. 
 
 " About being a p'droltuse ? " asked Norah, 
 smiling. 
 
 " How absurd ! About being in Paris, of 
 course, I mean." 
 
 "There is not much to tell. Since we 
 were unfortunate enough to be women, papa 
 thought that the best place for Kate and my- 
 self was in a convent your chivalrous Prus- 
 sians had battered down one of the walls, Mr. 
 Middleton and I shall never forget the days 
 we spent there. We thought them horrible 
 especially as we lived in hourly expectation 
 of being driven out but, after all, many peo- 
 ple fared much worse." 
 
 " But you must see that it was not reason- 
 able to blame the Prussians about the wall 
 of your convent " Middleton was beginning, 
 when his uncle interposed. 
 
 " We won't discuss the question, Carl. I 
 fancy most of us have made up our minds in 
 a general way, on one side or the other, and 
 unprofitable excitement is bad for digestion. 
 My sympathies are all with the walls of your
 
 34 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 convent, Miss Desmond, and, if Carl becomes 
 unpleasantly Teutonic, I'll shut him up with 
 a cask of lager in a Dutch summer-house \ve 
 have, to evolve any thing he pleases from 
 his inner consciousness, so that he keeps 
 quiet." 
 
 " Oh, I have really no great objection to 
 the Germans," said Miss Desmond, in a tone 
 of magnanimity. " They do very well for 
 some things. I have lived among them so 
 much that, of course, I know them very 
 well." 
 
 "She told me that she liked Vienna bet- 
 ter than any capital in Europe," said Carl, 
 addressing the company. 
 
 "And do you call Vienna German?' 1 '' she 
 asked, indignantly. " Where do you find 
 any leaven of Teutonic heaviness in that brill- 
 iant capital ? Is there any suggestion of Un- 
 ter den Linden on the Prater ? I do not call 
 any thing German which is enriched by the 
 warm blood of the Slavic races." 
 
 " There is no telling what she will say 
 next," said Carl, with an air of resignation. 
 " But, for all that, she sings German ballads 
 like a thrush." 
 
 " We will hear her after dinner," said 
 Mrs. Middleton, smiling. Before very long, 
 however, that lady's eyes began to open to 
 the alarming degree of interest which Carl 
 manifested in the young stranger. The femi- 
 nine mind is proverbially quick in perceiving 
 or foreseeing the faintest suspicion of a love- 
 affair, and, although Mrs. Middleton had not 
 yet heard of that previous acquaintance which 
 had so astonished Leslie, she saw many sig- 
 nificant signs that disturbed the serene at- 
 mosphere of comfort in which she usually 
 existed. A new vista of possible annoyance, 
 of horribly possible misfortune, appeared to 
 open before her. Carl ! In summing up all 
 that might occur from the visit of this Bo- 
 hemian girl, she had not once thought of 
 Carl. Yet, what if he should marry her ! 
 
 It seemed a wide leap to take even in im- 
 agination, but Mrs. Middlelon had lived too 
 long in the world not to be thoroughly aware 
 how often such leaps are taken in reality, and 
 a bitter sense of anger rose up in her heart 
 as she thought that this might be the end of 
 all her hopes. Leslie's engagement to Ar- 
 thur Tyndale had been unpalat;ible enough ; 
 but for Carl to fall in love with Norah Des- 
 mond would fill the cup of disappointment to 
 its brim. " Good Heavens, how things turn 
 
 out in this world ! " she thought, with a terri- 
 ble sense of her own inability to stem their cur- 
 rent, " and who can tell what dreadful results 
 may follow from one false step ! If Leslie 
 had only listened to me " But then it was 
 an unalterable fact that Leslie had not lis- 
 tened, as unalterable as Miss Desmond's pres- 
 ence at Rosland, concerning which Mrs. Mid- 
 dleton called her own weakness sternly to 
 account, and wasted much time in vain regret 
 that she had not opposed such a step more 
 strenuously and with greater authority. 
 
 It was after dinner when she made these 
 cheerful reflections. Mr. Middleton was smok- 
 ing a cigar and reading a newspaper in the 
 the dining-room, the decanters still on the 
 table, and a glass of wine near his hand. 
 Carl, having smoked out two or three cigar- 
 ettes, at last sauntered into the drawing- 
 room, where he found his aunt alone. She 
 was in her favorite nook a recess large 
 enough to contain her writing-table, her couch, 
 her easy-chair, and all her luxurious parapher- 
 nalia of special comforts and he saw at once 
 that he had no alternative but to join her. 
 At another time, this necessity would not 
 have presented itself in an unpleasant light ; 
 but just now he was particularly anxious to 
 see Xorah Desmond, and he could not re- 
 press a slight feeling of impatience at the 
 prospect of one of those unlimited gossips 
 which women love. He faced it, however, 
 with a sufficiently good grace, though his pre- 
 occupation of manner was so great that Mrs. 
 Middleton soon detected the utter want of 
 interest with which he received the various 
 items of social and domestic news that she 
 exerted herself to bestow upon him. She 
 saw his eyes wander across the room, in 
 which shaded lamp-light and summer twilight 
 were mingled, to the veranda and lawn be- 
 yond. Watching him closely, she caught a 
 sudden quickening expression which flashed 
 across his face, and was very significant, as a 
 pair of white -clad figures came slowly into 
 sight, visible through the lace-draped window 
 and green arch beyond. 
 
 " Leslie took Miss Desmond out to enjoy 
 the twilight," said she, changing her topic of 
 conversation quite abruptly a fact which it 
 is probable Carl did not discover. " By-the- 
 by, you have not told me yet what you think 
 of her. Is she not lovely ? " 
 
 " Lovely ! " repeated he, starting suddenly 
 out of abstraction. " Yes, of course only
 
 CARL MIDDLETON. 
 
 35 
 
 that is too weak a word ! She is the most 
 beautiful creature I ever saw ! " 
 
 Theft brought up short, as it were, by 
 Mrs. Middleton's look of surprise he blushed 
 and laughed. 
 
 " By Jove ! " he said, " I thought you were 
 talking of Miss Desmond. Is it Leslie you 
 mean ? Certainly she is very lovely so 
 graceful and refined but she does not show 
 to the best advantage by such a woman as 
 her sister." 
 
 " There is no comparison between them ! " 
 said Mrs. Middleton, sharply for the cool- 
 ness of this depreciation was more than even 
 her patience could endure " they belong to 
 entirely different social types. Leslie bears 
 every mark of exquisite refinement and high- 
 breeding, while Miss Desmond is a mere man's 
 beauty ! " 
 
 "Is she?" said Carl, good-humoredly. 
 " Then it is no wonder men rave over her -as 
 they do. You should have heard them on board 
 the Russia ! Why, there were one or two 
 fellows who were absolutely crazy about her ! 
 Now, you know, a woman must be remark- 
 able to make a sensation like that on ship- 
 board, for men are thinking of other things 
 just then their stomachs principally." 
 
 " It is never in good taste to make a sensa- 
 tion anywhere ! " said Mrs. Middleton, in an 
 ex-cathedra tone, which, to do her justice, she 
 did not often employ. " No thorough-bred 
 lady ever desires to do so ! " 
 
 " But a woman can't help being beautiful, 
 you know," said Carl. " Of course it has its 
 drawbacks sometimes ; I have heard Miss 
 Desmond talk about them quite feelingly. 
 But I can assure you she did nothing to draw 
 attention on herself. She is enough of a thor- 
 ough-bred woman to avoid that, at any rate." 
 
 " Is she ? " said Mrs. Middleton. With- 
 out being a philosopher, she knew human 
 nature well enough to avoid any argument 
 on the score of Miss Desmond's breeding, or 
 Miss Desmond's charms ; she was perfectly 
 aware that depreciation would only fan Carl's 
 admiration to fever-heat ; so, with a wisdom 
 that many women lack, she allowed the sub- 
 ject to drop, and soon after this sent him 
 away. " Go and make your bird-of-paradise 
 sing," she said. 
 
 "But she is not my bird-of-paradise," 
 answered he. " And she sings only when 
 she has a mind to I give you warnirg of 
 that ! " 
 
 He went willingly enough, however, and 
 found the bird-of-paradise still on the lawn 
 with Leslie. 
 
 "Do you think this is quite prudent?" 
 asked he, coming up to them as they sat 
 under a large catalpa-tree, making a pretty 
 picture in the soft twilight. " There is a ve: y 
 heavy dew on the grass. Look ! " and he 
 pointed to his evening boots, all covered with 
 clinging moisture. 
 
 " It may not be prudent, but it is very 
 pleasant," said Leslie. " Every thing is so 
 fragrant and exquisite ! I have been making 
 Norah listen to the mocking-birds. She nev- 
 er heard them before, you know." 
 
 " And what a delicious note they have ! " 
 said Norab. " I cannot imagine any thing 
 more sweet. Listen ! is not that one, now ? " 
 
 " They sing in this grove all night long," 
 said Carl, " or at least they used to do so. I 
 have often lain awake for hours listening to 
 them. That fellow who is singing now is a 
 perfect Mario ! " 
 
 " He is in the rose-hedge yonder," said 
 Miss Desmond. " I think 1 shall go nearer, 
 for the sake of listening to him." 
 
 " Take care, Norah, the grass is very wet," 
 said Leslie. " I was just about to propose a 
 return to the house, where we can hear you 
 sing, instead of the mocking-bird." 
 
 " What an exchange ! " said Norah ; and, 
 as she spoke, she walked toward the hedge. 
 
 " Go with her, Carl," said Miss Grahame, 
 appealingly. " My shoes are too thin for me 
 to venture into that high grass ; and pray 
 bring her back as soon as possible ! " 
 
 " All right," said Carl, hastening away. 
 His heart gave a triumphant throb. Here 
 was his opportunity sooner than he could 
 have dared to hope. It is to be feared that 
 he did not think much just then of the dew- 
 laden grass clinging round Norah's delicate 
 ankles. The power of speaking to her alone 
 was a boon worth purchasing at any cost. 
 
 " Why did you come ? " asked she, turn- 
 ing round abruptly as he gained her side. 
 " You should have stayed with Leslie. I am 
 very well able to take care of myself, and I 
 do not want to talk to you, but to listen to 
 the mocking-bird." 
 
 " I never doubted that," said he ; " but it 
 was Leslie who sent me. Not that I needed 
 to be sent you know that ; but it was she 
 who bade me come. Pray excuse me if I 
 ought to have staved."
 
 36 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 " It is not a matter of the least impor- 
 tance," answered she ; " but of course Leslie 
 will think that I came away to flirt." 
 
 " I think you anticipate many harsh judg- 
 ments which are never passed," said he, col- 
 oring. " I will answer for Leslie that such a 
 thought has not entered her mind. When 
 you know her better, you will find that she is 
 one of the most amiable and most unsuspect- 
 ing people in the world." 
 
 " I think I perceive that already," said 
 Miss Desmond, thoughtfully. " And, in con- 
 sequence, I feel like one who is at sea with- 
 out a compass. I have been so much sur- 
 prised to find Leslie what she is, that I scarce- 
 ly realize my position, or or what I am to 
 do. I fancied I confidently expected 
 something so different." 
 
 " And so much more disagreeable, I am 
 sure." 
 
 " Yes, I confess that." 
 
 " And why is it that you persist in always 
 expecting the worst and thinking the worst 
 of people ? " 
 
 " Because, in the course of my nineteen 
 years, I have found that people always think 
 the worst and expect the worst of me." 
 
 " Stop a minute," said he, smiling. " I 
 bind you on your honor to answer if you have 
 found that everybody, even in the course of 
 your mature nineteen years, has thought or 
 expected the worst of you ? " 
 
 " Men in love don't count," answered she. 
 " A few of them have thought much better of 
 me than I deserved." 
 
 " I should count them worth all the rest," 
 said he, coloring again. 
 
 " Should you ? " asked she, a little mock- 
 ingly. " I cannot agree with you. If a man 
 tells me that I am a goddess, for instance, I 
 can only laugh at him, you know. Certainly, 
 I could not be expected to respect an opinion 
 so palpably absurd. But, when a woman says 
 that I am a fast flirt, the words sting a little, 
 because they have a modicum of truth in 
 them. I have not been reared to regard con- 
 ventionality overmuch, and I generally ac- 
 cept admiration when it is offered me." 
 
 " I have never yet seen a woman who did 
 not," said he. " But, without any high-flown 
 folly, a man might hold you far above all oth- 
 er women, and be worthy of credit if he told 
 you so." 
 
 " That is a kind of homage which has 
 never been offered to me," said she, with a 
 
 look of quick pain which the twilight hid 
 crossing her face. " Men, as a general rule, 
 have fallen in love and made fools of them- 
 selves about me, against their better judg- 
 ment. I am afraid I should not believe in 
 any thing else if it were given to me now. 
 But this is a tiresome subject, and we came 
 at least /came to listen to the mocking- 
 bird. I think our voices must have startled 
 him, for he has ceased to sing." 
 
 " Ceased, in a paroxysm of envy, to listen 
 to you, I am sure." 
 
 " Don't credit him with the meanest of 
 our poor passions," said she. " That was a 
 very neat compliment, however. Such things 
 are like an inspiration, are they not ? Now, 
 I am sure you could not do as well again." 
 
 " Do you mean that as a challenge for me 
 to try ? " 
 
 " Not by any means, since a prepared 
 compliment is about as excellent as twice- 
 cooked meat. In fact, I do not like compli- 
 ments, under any circumstances," added she, 
 frankly. 
 
 " Then I shall employ more fragrant lips 
 to utter mine for me," said he, pausing to 
 break a rose for they were now among the 
 shrubbery which even in the gloaming he 
 could perceive to be one of the most royal 
 and beautiful of its kind. Having done this, 
 he turned to his companion. " I know noth- 
 ing about the language of flowers," he said ; 
 " but this rose seems to me to typify you bet- 
 ter than any other flower possibly could, and 
 it ranks far above all others, you know ! " 
 Then, after a pause, in a lower tone : " Will 
 you take it ? " 
 
 She hesitated a moment during -which 
 Middleton would have given any thing he 
 possessed for a light in which to see her face 
 but, as he began to gather courage from 
 her hesitation, she extended her hand with a 
 laugh that made his courage sink to zero 
 again. 
 
 " Thanks ; you are very kind," she said. 
 " I think my challenge must have put you on 
 your mettle, for your second effort is better 
 than your first. What a lovely rose ! How 
 good of you to say that it typifies me ! I 
 only wish I were half so glowing and per- 
 fect ! " 
 
 " If you were any other woman, I should 
 say that wish was an egregious affectation," 
 said Carl, provoked by her nonchalance. 
 
 " But, as it is, you are kind enough to
 
 MISS DESMOND'S MUSICAL TALENT. 
 
 37 
 
 give me credit for sincerity," she said and 
 he heard her laugh again. " How very com- 
 plimentary you are to-nigbt ! Is it your un- 
 cle's excellent champagne which has inspired 
 you ? It would be pleasant to remain and 
 hear you go from better to best ; but I am 
 becoming aware that the grass is damp, and, 
 since Mario will not give us another roulade, 
 it might be as well to return to the house. 
 A propos of your pretty speeches, I have a 
 shrewd suspicion that, if Leslie does not 
 think that I am flirting, your aunt will not 
 be so charitable ! " 
 
 " We don't think quite so much of leather 
 and prunella here as in the countries to which 
 you are accustomed," said he, as he turned 
 and walked by her side. 
 
 " Where do you draw the line between 
 what is dc riffuewr, and what is not ? " she 
 asked. " I should really like to know. Per- 
 haps on this side of the water I may find my- 
 self a very conventional and respectable per- 
 son, indeed." 
 
 " You must ask some one better up in 
 the proprieties than I am," he answered. 
 " When they present themselves to me, it is 
 generally in the light of such particularly un- 
 pleasant bores that I have never given them 
 the attention which they doubtless deserve." 
 
 To cross a lawn cannot possibly take a 
 very long time under any circumstances, so 
 they soon found themselves in the drawing- 
 room, where Miss Desmond went at once to 
 the piano, without any troublesome solicita- 
 tion. Notes she had none, but her command 
 of the instrument was perfect, and her knowl- 
 edge of harmony very good. After a well- 
 modulated prelude, she began to sing. De- 
 scriptions of singing are mostly unsatisfac- 
 tory, and very unmeaning to all save the 
 technical, musical mind ; so it is sufficient to 
 say that a voice like this, which rose now and 
 floated out on the midsummer night, had nev- 
 er sounded before within the walls of Ros- 
 land. A contralto so rich, so sweet, so pow- 
 erful, would have been likely to command 
 attention and admiration anywhere ; but here 
 it was greeted with an enthusiasm that might 
 have gratified the most exacting prima-donna 
 on the lyric stage. 
 
 It was a voice strangely familiar, and 
 strangely fraught with association to one who 
 did not form part of the group in the draw- 
 ing-room. A solitary man, standing on a 
 bridge that crossed a small stream not far 
 
 from the house, heard the clear, full notes 
 rising as he moodily smoked his cigar, and 
 their cadence seemed suddenly to stir into 
 life the wild thrill of an old passion which he 
 had thought dead forever. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 t; The branches cross above our eyes, 
 
 The skies arc in a net ; 
 And what's the thing beneath the skies 
 We two would most forget ? 
 
 Not birth, my love, no, no 
 
 Not death, my love, no, no 
 
 The love once ours, but ours long hours ago. 1 ' 
 
 " I SUPPOSE there is nothing for it but to 
 face the music, Max ! " 
 
 It was Arthur Tyndale who spoke thus, 
 not interrogatively, but with a sort of gloomy 
 decision, as he leaned back in his chair, 
 stroked the silken ears of his favorite setter, 
 and regarded his cousin, who, having come 
 down late, was eating his breakfast with the 
 appetite of a man who is neither dyspeptic, 
 bankrupt, nor yet in love. 
 
 " I confess I am not able to perceive any 
 very clear alternative," Captain Tyndale an- 
 swered, frankly. " It is an awkward position ; 
 but you have had a month or two in which to. 
 prepare yourself for it, so I really don't see 
 why you should take it au trayique at the last 
 minute." 
 
 "Oh, you don't!" said Arthur, sardon- 
 ically. "No I suppose not. I believe we 
 rarely ever do see any reason for the troubles 
 and annoyances of other people ! All the 
 same if you were in my place " 
 
 " Which I am not, thank Heaven ! " 
 
 " You might be conscious of a strong 
 temptation to order your horse and take the 
 earliest train from Wexford in any direction, 
 sooner than walk over to Rosland and face 
 Norah Desmond." 
 
 " Face her! " repeated the other, impatient- 
 ly. "But what do you think she will do? 
 If she is half the woman you have described 
 her to be, she is not likely to assert her claim 
 to you in the face of the assembled family." 
 
 " The assembled family would be a matter 
 of the least possible importance compared to 
 her ! " 
 
 "Or to upbraid you with your desertion, 
 after the fashion of a melodramatic heroine ? " 
 
 "Don't be a fool, Max!" 
 
 "wo 
 
 Y 8
 
 38 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 "Then, in the name of common-sense, 
 what are you afraid of ? " 
 
 " I am afraid of nothing," said Tyndale, 
 coloring. " But you might understand that 
 it is confoundedly awkward to use the mild- 
 est possible phrase to meet a woman who 
 has good reason for thinking you are engaged 
 to her, in the presence of another woman to 
 whom you are engaged." 
 
 " Hm ! " said Max, carving a chicken. " I 
 can imagine that it might be slightly un- 
 pleasant. But you should have thought of 
 that in time." 
 
 "Thought of it! But how the deuce 
 could I think of it when, up to the first of 
 May, I had no more reason for imagining thai 
 Norah Desmond was connected with Leslie 
 Grahame, than I have for imagining that she 
 is connected with you ! " 
 
 He spoke so much in the tone of one who 
 has been aggrieved by some supreme injury 
 of Fate, that Max Tyndale absolutely opened 
 his dark eyes and stared at him. " By Jove ! " 
 he said, half aloud. Then he stroked his 
 mustache and went on, devoting his attention 
 to the chicken. Arthur had been something 
 of a study to him during the last two months, 
 and this phase of his character was no new 
 revelation. 
 
 " Are you going to walk over to Rosland 
 this morning ? " he asked, after a while. 
 
 " I suppose I ought to do so," Arthur an- 
 swered, hesitatingly. " You'll come too, 
 won't you ? " 
 
 " I think not. Most likely I'll spend the 
 day lounging in the house. It is too hot for 
 any thing else." 
 
 " They arc always glad to see you at Ros- 
 land." 
 
 "I know that; but, all the same, I won't 
 trouble them this morning." 
 
 Tyndale made a slightly-impatient move- 
 ment and turned away. It would have been 
 a satisfaction to him to have had Max at his 
 side as a sort of moral support, and he felt 
 vexed that his cousin should not have been 
 aware of this fact. He was ashamed to make 
 his request more particular or pressing, how- 
 ever, and so it came to pass that, in the 
 course of the next hour, he set off alone 
 taking a footpath through the woods to Ros- 
 land. 
 
 The morning was indeed very warm, but 
 he was scarcely conscious of the heat. With 
 every step his nervousness increased. Clearer 
 
 and clearer came the remembrance of how he 
 had parted with Norah Desmond last, and 
 the realization of how he was about to meet 
 her now! More and more perfectly he ap- 
 preciated how entirely he was in her power. 
 He began to ask himself if he had been mad 
 to let things go on thus far in the vague hope 
 or chance of influencing her to silence. " Why 
 did I not tell Leslie any thing ? " he muttered, 
 thinking of the day when she had asked him 
 whether there was any reason why her sister 
 should not be invited to her uncle's house, 
 and he had felt constrained to answer that 
 there was none. Now he looked back upon 
 this answer as a piece of pusillanimous folly, 
 seeing clearly that he had " owed it to him- 
 self" to put the girl's character in such a 
 light that Leslie would never have been in- 
 clined to take any step toward nearer ac- 
 quaintanceship. It must not be supposed 
 that this opinion was a reckless impulse born 
 of an hour or a day ; it was rather the slow 
 | result of two months spent in halting between 
 honor and dishonor, in counting the chances 
 for and against detection, in persuading him- 
 self that they were very strongly in his favor, 
 and in cultivating an habitually injured frame 
 of mind, which he found to be a very solid 
 and permanent comfort. 
 
 Just now it was less of a comfort than it 
 had ever been before. Things which he had 
 striven to ignore memories from which he 
 shrank came back and stared him grimly in 
 the face. He could not rid himself of the 
 consciousness that already if Miss Desmond 
 had chosen to speak he might find the doors 
 of Roslaud closed to him ; already he might 
 be cast out indignantly from Leslie's heart. 
 Standing on the bridge where Norah's voice 
 had floated down to him the night before, he 
 forgot himself far enough to curse her in his 
 heart her and "his luck." No man was 
 ever in such a position before, he thought ; 
 and, so thinking, turned on his heel. Even 
 here ; n sight of the very walls of Rosland 
 he could not resolve to face her. 
 
 But, as he turned filled with the one 
 vague idea of escaping from the embarrass- 
 ment which awaited him voices suddenly 
 smote on his e ir gay tones and light laugh- 
 ter floated to him. The next moment, around 
 a turn of the path, two ladies and a gentleman 
 came slowly sauntering toward the bridge. 
 It was too late for retreat even if he had 
 still desired to make it. Fate had come to
 
 AN AWKWARD POSITION. 
 
 39 1 
 
 his assistance, and cut with sharp decision 
 the Gordian knot of his vacillation. " There 
 is Arthur !" lie heard Leslie say; and after 
 that he could only advance to meet them. 
 
 The meeting was, of course, less terrible 
 than he had pictured it. Conventionalities 
 are good things to keep troublesome emotions 
 in check; and there are few of us who could 
 dispense with the beneficent aid of common- 
 places at those critical moments when the 
 heart seems beating in the throat, and the 
 lip quivers over every thing save the baldest 
 platitudes. Afterward Tyndale could recall 
 little besides a sudden great wave of recollec- 
 tion, which came over him with the force of 
 an absolute shock, as Leslie said, "Norah, 
 let me introduce Mr. Tyndale: this is my 
 sister, Arthur;" and, looking up, he met No- 
 rah's brilliant eyes fastened on him. It was 
 almost unconsciously that he bowed and said 
 something he did not know what about 
 her journey. The past rushed back upon 
 him with a power which he could hardly 
 withstand. Her face, her figure, the very or- 
 naments she wore, the very fragrance that 
 hung like a faint incense about her, seemed 
 to conjure before him the green lindens of 
 Baden seemed to bring back, with a sense 
 of overwhelming reality, scenes and words 
 which being more weak than willful in dis- 
 honor he would have given any thing to ef- 
 face by some spell of oblivion. But such a 
 spell was difficult to find with the "haunting 
 fairness" of her face before him, and the 
 splendor of her eyes thrilling his very soul. 
 He was forced to give himself a sort of men- 
 tal shake in order to remember where he 
 really was when she spoke to him spoke as 
 she might have spoken to the most indiffer- 
 ent stranger who crossed her path. 
 
 "Thanks; yes I had a very pleasant 
 voyage," she said but he seemed to catch 
 the echo of other words in every tone ; he 
 seemed to hear again the sweet thrill of ten- 
 derness which had filled that voice when they 
 parted two years before ! 
 
 Leslie did not observe his agitation ; but 
 there was some one else who did. When he 
 greeted Carl Middleton, the latter noticed 
 that the hand offered him was cold, and shook 
 nervously. Instinctively he glanced at Leslie, 
 but her bright smile forbade the idea that she 
 was, in any way, connected with such an agi- 
 tation. Then he looked at Norah. She was 
 holding her dress lightly aside from the grass 
 
 as supremely calm and coolly nonchalant 
 as it was possible for a woman to appear. 
 Carl felt a little puzzled, and glanced back at 
 Tyndale. The latter had turned to speak to 
 Miss Grahame, but the first tone of his voice 
 betrayed to a finely-strung ear the nervous 
 tension in which he was holding himself. . 
 
 " I was on my way to the house," he said. 
 "I had no idea of finding you out. Is it not 
 rather warm to be walking ? " 
 
 " I brought Norah out to show her the 
 grounds," Leslie answered, " but perhaps it 
 is too warm for exercise. If you think so " 
 (turning to her sister), " we will go back." 
 
 " Not on my account," said Norah, quick- 
 ly. "Our path has been so shaded that the 
 sun has not been able to do more than glance 
 at us, and there is a breeze which we do not 
 feel in the house. Besides, I like to be in the 
 open air. I think it is where we should live 
 in summer." 
 
 " It is an ascertained fact that the people 
 of America spend less time in the open air 
 than any other people in the world," said 
 Carl, meditatively. 
 
 " Do you mean that as a thing to be ad- 
 mired or decried ? " asked Miss Desmond. 
 " For my part, I think it very extraordinary. 
 How can they resist the invitation which 
 every gleam of sunshine seems to give ? Now, 
 what a charming place this is just before us ! 
 How clear the stream looks under the over- 
 hanging shade ! How prettily the shadows 
 flicker how softly the water murmurs ! Such 
 a scene is enough in itself to tempt one to 
 idleness ! Have you ever outgrown your 
 childish fancy for wading, Mr. Middleton ? I 
 confess that I never have." 
 
 She moved forward passing Tyndale so 
 closely that her dress touched him followed 
 by Carl. On the bridge they paused. 
 
 " Do you feel inclined to try a little wad- 
 ing ? " he asked, leaning over the railing, but 
 looking up in her face. " You did not give 
 me time to answer your question ; but I never 
 have outgrown my fancy for it." 
 
 She laughed, and glanced down at her 
 daintily-clad feet. 
 
 " I am afraid the golden age for that pas- 
 toral pleasure is over for me," she said. 
 " My recollection of it is somewhat like a 
 man's sentimental yearning over the memory 
 of his first love. How much aghast he would 
 be if sentenced to pass his life with the wom- 
 an he loved at twenty ! and I am afraid I
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 could scarcely go back into Arcadia suffi- 
 ciently to enjoy the ripple of even that cool, 
 clear water around my feet. This is a de- 
 lightful place, however, even to those who 
 have left Arcadia behind. It would be pleas- 
 ant, would it not, to come down here some 
 day and fish ? " 
 
 " It would be pleasant to fish anywhere 
 with you," her companion answered, quite 
 truthfully. " But it would be foolish to cast 
 our nets or our lines here, with the river near 
 at hand full of capital fish." 
 
 " Is the river near at hand ? How near ? " 
 
 " Something like half a mile, I think. I 
 say, Leslie" as Miss Grahame advanced 
 toward them "how far are we from the 
 river ? " 
 
 " A quarter of a mile, perhaps," said Les- 
 lie, " but why do you ask ? It is too warm 
 to go on the water at this time of day.'' 
 
 " Do you go on the water ? " asked Norah. 
 " Have you a boat ? We were talking of fish- 
 ing, but boating is my idea of beatitude." 
 
 " I think you are more than half mer- 
 maid," said Carl. 
 
 " I wish I were," said she, sighing. " It 
 would be pleasant to live three hundred years, 
 and then be dissolved into sea-foam even so 
 much better than the prospect of being hag- 
 gard and toothless at threescore ! Don't you 
 think so, Leslie ? " 
 
 " It is only the exceptional people who 
 live to threescore," eaid Leslie. " We need 
 not flatter ourselves with the idea of such 
 good luck." 
 
 " Such bad luck, you mean," answered 
 the other. Then she turned to Carl. " Did 
 you not promise to show me the Dutch sum- 
 mer-house where you mean to retire when 
 you feel particularly Teutonic ? " she asked. 
 " Is it near here ? " 
 
 " It is not very far off. I shall be de- 
 lighted to cicerone you, if you feel inclined 
 to come with me." 
 
 " Of course I feel inclined," said she. 
 "Should I have spoken of it if I had not? 
 Leslie, you will excuse us, will you not ? 
 Thanks, Mr. Tyndale " (as Arthur disentan- 
 gled her parasol from the low branch of a 
 tree), " fringe and lace are troublesome things. 
 Is it this way, Mr. Middleton?" 
 
 Graceful and self-possessed as ever, she 
 walked away with Carl, and Leslie would have 
 turned to follow if Tyndale had not inter- 
 fered. 
 
 "Need we go and look at the summer- 
 house ? " he asked. " We know all about it, 
 and the sun is horribly warm. Let us go 
 back to the house." 
 
 " But I want you to see Norah," said Les- 
 lie. " You have scarcely spoken to her as 
 yet. I want you to know her. You were so 
 right in telling me that she is fascinating ! 
 There never was any thing more true. She 
 has fascinated all of us already." 
 
 " I see that she has fascinated your cous- 
 in," said he, bitterly. " But that is not re- 
 markable ! She is the most thorough-paced 
 and unscrupulous coquette I have ever seen ! " 
 
 " I think you do her injustice ! " said Miss 
 Grahame. "She is so beautiful would it 
 not be strange if she did not like the admi- 
 ration which is offered her ? And then, how 
 much of it must have been offered ! Enough 
 to spoil the characters and turn the heads of 
 half a dozen ordinary women, you may be 
 sure." 
 
 "Of course she has been admired," said 
 Tyndale, gloomily. " Nobody could look at 
 her and doubt that. I think she is handsomer 
 than ever ! " he added, in a disgusted tone, 
 for, unconsciously to himself, he had rather 
 cherished the expectation that Norah's brill- 
 iant beauty would have "gone off" in watch- 
 ing for him. 
 
 " I do not think anybody could be more 
 beautiful!" said Leslie; "and this reminds 
 me to ask if you are quite sure you never 
 knew her when you were abroad ? " 
 
 " Am I quite sure ! " repeated Tyndale. 
 His heart seemed to stand still for a minute, 
 his blond complexion changed its color vio- 
 lently two or three times. " Good Heavens, 
 Leslie, what do you mean ? Why should I 
 not be sure ? " 
 
 "I thought it was scarcely likely you 
 could be mistaken," said Leslie, with a com- 
 posure that proved how far any thing like 
 suspicion was from her mind, " but Norah 
 seemed to think that she had met you at 
 least, she spoke of having known some one 
 who was named Tyndale, abroad." 
 
 " Did she ? " said he, with a short gasp. 
 "And you what did you tell her ? " 
 
 " I told her that it could not have been 
 yourself, for you had distinctly told me that, 
 although you had seen her, you had not known 
 her." 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " Well, then, of course, she said that it
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 
 
 41 
 
 must have been another person ; but I thought 
 afterward that perhaps you might have been 
 introduced to her at a ball or some place of 
 that kind and forgotten it." 
 
 " Am I likely to have forgotten it ? " 
 asked he, breaking into bitterness again. 
 " Is any man likely to forget such a woman ? 
 For good or for evil, one would have no al- 
 ternative but to remember her." 
 
 " I see that you are very much prejudiced 
 against her," said Leslie, looking at him in 
 surprise. "Why do you speak so harshly? 
 Has she ever done any harm to any one whom 
 you know ? Aunt Mildred thinks that it must 
 have been your cousin who was the Tyndale 
 she knew abroad. Is it so ? and did she 
 break his heart, or otherwise injure him ? " 
 
 "No," said Tyndale, almost savagely. 
 " Max is a lucky fellow he has too much 
 cool, hard common-sense to fall into the toils 
 of such a woman as that. Forgive me, Les- 
 lie" as he caught her pained and half-in- 
 dignant look " but you know I gave you 
 warning beforehand what manner of person 
 she was." 
 
 " But I have seen nothing to justify your 
 warning," said Leslie. " I think you must 
 have been listening to the accounts given of 
 her by the enemies whom every beautiful 
 woman is unfortunate enough to possess. 
 Come ! " she added, smiling, " come and give 
 her an opportunity to fascinate you. I insist 
 upon it." 
 
 Despite the smile, he saw that she was in 
 earnest, and, too guiltily conscious of his mo- 
 tives to make further demur, he went with 
 her along the path where the others had dis- 
 appeared. " After all, perhaps it is best ! " 
 he thought. " I must, if possible, see Norah 
 alone for ten minutes. I must know what 
 she intends to do. What did she mean by 
 that allusion to me last night ? This suspense 
 is more than any man could bear." 
 
 Meanwhile, Norah and Carl had reached 
 the summer-house, which looked as if it had 
 been imported from Amsterdam, as it crowned 
 a softly-rising knoll in the midst of the shrub- 
 bery. The door stood open, and, mounting a 
 flight of steps, they went in. The tiled floor, 
 the quaint roof, the windows latticed with 
 green vines, all seemed like a bit of still-life 
 from one of Teniers's pictures. 
 
 " Surely a Hollander or a Fleming must 
 have designed this," said Norah. " It is 
 in the purest style of Dutch architecture. 
 
 I have seen a hundred like it in the Low 
 Countries. One almost expects to look out 
 of the window at canals and dikes." 
 
 " The last owner of Rosland was a Dutch- 
 man," said Carl. " I don't think my uncle 
 has owned the place more than twenty years." 
 Then he walked to one of the casements. 
 " The view doe3 not command any canals or 
 dikes," he said, " but it is really beautiful, 
 Miss Desmond. Come and look ! " 
 
 Thus bidden, Norah went and looked. It 
 was certainly a fair, pastoral scene. All 
 around were the green nooks and dells of the 
 shrubbery, while beyond were shadowy woods, 
 rich with midsummer foliage, and ringing 
 with a soft echo of midsummer mirth, level 
 fields stretching to where a dense growth of 
 willows marked the winding course of the 
 river, and blue hills softly melting into dis- 
 tance far away. From another window they 
 could see the path which led to Strafford, and 
 catch a glimpse of the gabled house rising 
 above its noble oaks. 
 
 " That is a charming old place, as well as 
 I remember," said Carl. " I should not won- 
 der if it had been instrumental in tempting 
 Leslie. When she was a child, she had the 
 greatest possible fancy for it. By-the-by, 
 what do you think of \\Qvfiance? He is good- 
 looking, certainly; but somehow he struck 
 me just a little unpleasantly." 
 
 " There are few things more unwise than 
 to judge people at first sight," said Miss Des- 
 mond, with the air of one who delivers a 
 grave moral truth. " I have laid it down as 
 a rule of life to distrust first impressions al- 
 ways and most emphatically." 
 
 " Still, I should like to hear what your 
 first impression of Mr. Tyndale has been," 
 said he, looking at her. " I have an idea 
 that it is not very different from mine. Am 
 I impertinent ? " he added, half laughing, as 
 he saw her change color slightly. 
 
 " No, you are not impertinent," she an- 
 swered, coolly. "If you were, I should not 
 hesitate to tell you so. But you are inquisi- 
 tive, and that is not usually esteemed the 
 height of civility." 
 
 " Is it not ? Well, I was never much at 
 civility Leslie will tell you that. But, seri- 
 ously, now, what do you think of the fel- 
 low ? " 
 
 " Seriously, I have not taken the trouble 
 to think of him at all." 
 
 " Then it must follow that you don't con-
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 sider him worth the trouble of thinking 
 about." 
 
 " Whatever follows is fortunately not a 
 matter of any importance to him or to you." 
 
 " He is decidedly a beauty-man don't 
 you think so ? " 
 
 " Very likely ; but I have never noticed 
 that fortunate class sufficiently to recognize 
 their peculiar traits at sight." 
 
 " Don't you like them ? " 
 
 " I scarcely know. I am such an amiable 
 person that I like everybody, except trouble- 
 some people who ask foolish questions." 
 
 " I should never think of describing you 
 as an amiable person," said he, coloring un- 
 der this rebuke. 
 
 " Ah ! What then a termagant ? " 
 
 " God only knows a witch, more likely." 
 
 " Thanks for the compliment. Witches 
 are always so particularly handsome that I 
 appreciate the full force of it." 
 
 " A siren, then. A anything that turns 
 men's heads." 
 
 " Really, it is hard to make one answer- 
 able for the vagaries of men's heads. The 
 most of them have so little ballast that they 
 are easily turned." 
 
 " Your tongue is like a two-edged sword," 
 said he. " No matter what I say, I am sure 
 to get the worst of it." 
 
 " And yet you are one of my particular 
 favorites," said she. " There are few people 
 whom I treat with the consideration that I 
 have always shown you." 
 
 " Heaven help those whom you treat with 
 less, then ! " 
 
 " You say that with great unction ; do you 
 fancy them in danger of a scratched face ? " 
 
 " It does not matter what I fancy ; but I 
 am sure that any man in his sane senses would 
 rather have his face scratched by you than 
 caressed by any other woman." 
 
 " Speak for yourself," said she, coldly. 
 And he saw that he had offended her. " It is 
 not necessary to make your accusation of bad 
 taste so general." 
 
 " I did not mean " he began, contritely, 
 but his excuses were cut short, for at that 
 moment Leslie and Tyndalc appeared at the 
 open door. 
 
 " What a pretty tableau ^-ou make ! " the 
 former said. " They look like a picture do 
 they not, Arthur? I should say a Dutch 
 picture, only Norah's Paris dress does not 
 agree very well with our ideas of Dutch art." 
 
 " She is more like a figure out of a Wat- 
 teau," said Tyndale, with a desperate attempt 
 to appear at ease. 
 
 , " And little enough like that," said Carl. 
 " Her dress, perhaps, may be but Watteau 
 never painted such a face ! The colors have 
 never been mixed, save on the palettes of 
 Titian or Rubens, to do Miss Desmond jus- 
 tice." 
 
 " Norah, how do you like to be discussed 
 in such cool fashion, as if you. were really a 
 picture ? " asked Leslie, smiling. " I sup- 
 pose you grow used to it, however ; and, to a 
 beautiful woman, all flattery must be tame 
 after that of her mirror. What have you 
 two been talking about ? " she went on, ad- 
 vancing into the summer-house. "As we 
 came up you looked not only comfortable, 
 but confidential." 
 
 " Every thing relating to the nature of 
 man comes under the head of philosophy," 
 said Carl, gravely ; " therefore, we have been 
 talking philosophy." 
 
 " After the fashion of Punch" said Norah. 
 " What is mind ? No matter. What is mat- 
 ter ? Never mind. What is the nature of 
 the soul ? It is immaterial." 
 
 " That is capital ! " said Carl. " I shall 
 send it to a friend of mine in Germany. It 
 will do him good." 
 
 " Are you sure you don't need it your- 
 self ? " suggested she. " It is never well to 
 be too generous. You remind me of the peo- 
 ple who, whenever a particularly telling point 
 is made in a sermon, think how well that 
 suits their brother, or their sister, or their 
 neighbor over the way." 
 
 " But Punch's sarcasm does not affect mo 
 at all," said he, sincerely, " for no man ever 
 troubled himself less than I do about such 
 questions. I would not give one day of gold- 
 en idleness like this for the whole of Kant 
 and Jean Paul." 
 
 "It is pleasant!" said Leslie. "Norah 
 is right : even at the expense of becoming a 
 little tanned, one ought to live in the open air 
 in summer. It is a pity that I must go to 
 the house and write some tiresome letters for 
 the mail, is it not? No, I won't be selfish 
 enough to take you " (as Tyndale started 
 forward with alacrity). " I believe I would 
 ratber have Carl. I can make him write one 
 or two of them for me." 
 
 "Heavens and earth, Leslie!" said Carl. 
 "You can't be in earnest! you don't se-
 
 ARTHUR'S INTERVIEW WITH NORAH. 
 
 43 
 
 riously think that I will go in and write let- 
 ters on such a day as this ? " 
 
 "I seriously think you will," answered 
 Leslie, with an air of determination ; " for 
 your cousins, the Brantley girls, wrote to me 
 six weeks ago, asking for news of you, and I 
 have never answered the letter. You shall 
 do it to-day." 
 
 " I am very sorry to disappoint you," said 
 he, "but the proposal is really absurd. I 
 never could bear those girls, and as for writ- 
 ing to them " 
 
 " Whether you can bear them, or whether 
 you cannot, you must come and write the let- 
 ter ! " interrupted Leslie, decidedly. She had 
 a reason for being so peremptory, for she had 
 made up her mind that Norah and Tyndale 
 should know each other, and since a tete-d-tcte 
 is generally esteemed the best means of ad- 
 vancing personal knowledge, she was deter- 
 mined that they should have this advantage, 
 and also determined not to be thwarted by 
 Carl's idleness and obstinacy. 
 
 " Pray do not come because I do," she 
 said, turning to Norah. " It will be pleasant 
 here for an hour or two yet, and Arthur will 
 bring you to the house when you are ready to 
 come." 
 
 " I am quite ready now," answered Norah, 
 rising. 
 
 But Leslie had already drawn Carl re- 
 luctant and protesting down the steps, and, 
 as Miss Desmond moved forward to follow, 
 Tyndale took his courage in both hands and 
 stepped before her. 
 
 " One moment ! " he said, hoarsely. " I 
 I must speak to you." 
 
 He thought he had braced himself for any 
 emergency that he could not be unnerved 
 by any thing she might do or say but, when 
 she lifted her eyes, full of astonished hauteur, 
 to his face, he was conscious that all his reso- 
 lution ebbed from him as completely and 
 hopelessly as if she had been indeed the witch 
 to whom Middleton had likened her. 
 
 "Excuse me," she said, in a tone that 
 suited the glance. " As there is nothing you 
 can desire to say which I can possibly desire 
 to hear, I prefer to follow my sister." 
 
 " But I must speak to you ! " he repeated, 
 the hoarseness still apparent in his voice, 
 the color coming and going in patches on 
 his face. " You cannot refuse to give me a 
 fevv minutes you cannot refuse to listen to 
 me ! I shall not detain you long." 
 
 " I decline absolutely to give you one min- 
 ute," she answered, haughtily. " I refuse ab- 
 solutely to listen to one word that you have 
 to say." 
 
 " Is this generous is this just, Norah ? " 
 
 " How do you dare to address me in that 
 manner?" she asked a sudden flash of 
 lightning-like anger breaking up the coldness 
 of her face. 
 
 "Pardon me," he answered. "But it is 
 hard to see you, and not to remember the 
 days when you were Norah to me." 
 
 " Will you stand aside and let me pass ? " 
 was her only reply. 
 
 "No !" he rejoined, sharply. " How can 
 you ask it ? How can you think that I should 
 meet you like this and let you go ? You must 
 see for yourself that it is absolutely necessary 
 for us to understand each other ! " 
 
 " It is never well to take things too much 
 for granted, Mr. Tyndale," she said. " So 
 far from seeing it, I am unable to recognize 
 the least necessity why we should understand 
 each other." 
 
 " You can say that to me Xorah ! " 
 
 She drew herself up superbly. Always of 
 queenly stature and more than queenly bear- 
 ing, she looked just then as if her form had 
 come down to her from the heroic days. 
 
 " You forget yourself strangely ! " she 
 said. " Once more, will you move aside and 
 let me pass, or must I understand that you 
 intend to keep me here that you may insult 
 me at your leisure ? " 
 
 " Is the truth an insult ? " asked he, flush- 
 ing deeply. " If so, it is no fault of mine. 
 Norah, we have no time to waste in idle fen- 
 cing. Say what you please and I remember 
 of old how bitter your tongue can be ! all 
 the same, I am determined not to stir from 
 this spot until definitely and finally we under- 
 stand each other." 
 
 " It is impossible to rate your chivalry too 
 high, Mr. Tyndale," she said, with a glance 
 of scorn. "Since I am a prisoner at your 
 pleasure, however, and since it seems to you 
 a matter of so much importance that we 
 should understand each other, it may be worth 
 while to say that I understand you perfectly." 
 
 He might have answered truly enough 
 that this was not what he desired that the 
 vitally important point with him was the ne- 
 cessity of understanding her but, instead 
 of this, her open contempt roused him to a 
 different rejoinder.
 
 44 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 " I doubt if you understand me at all," lie 
 said. " For the matter of that, I doubt if 
 you ever did understand me." 
 
 "Did I not?" said she, with indifference. 
 " It must have been owing to my own want 
 of attention, then certainly not to any thing 
 particularly abstruse in the nature of the sub- 
 ject. I cannot say that I have acquired any 
 new degree of interest since I had the pleas- 
 ure of seeing you last," she went on, calmly. 
 
 " I can imagine," he said, quickly, " that 
 you may have learned to feel very bitterly 
 toward me. But, if you will only suffer me 
 to explain " 
 
 She interrupted him by a gesture, which 
 he never forgot. 
 
 " You mistake my meaning entirely," she 
 said. " Feel bitterly toward you ! Why 
 should I ? Explain ? What is there to ex- 
 plain ? " 
 
 Her eyes faced him with such steady lus- 
 tre that his own lids fell. He realized then 
 how unequal he was to the encounter he had 
 provoked. What could he say to such a 
 woman as this ? He had never been a match 
 for her he knew that well she had always 
 been a perverse and tantalizing enigma to 
 him ; but he had never felt so hopelessly be- 
 wildered as now. The cool disdain with 
 which it pleased her to treat the past was so 
 different from the passionate resentment he 
 had expected, that he felt wholly unable to 
 cope with it. Catching desperately at the 
 first idea which presented itself, he uttered 
 the very last thing which should have found 
 expression on his lips. 
 
 " Norah," he said, passionately, " it is im- 
 possible for you to have forgotten that you 
 loved me once ! " 
 
 Instantly he read his mistake in the glow 
 which came into her eyes, in the haughty 
 curve of her clear-cut, resolute mouth. 
 
 " How entirely you are pleased to justify 
 my opinion of your character, Mr. Tyndale ! " 
 she said, in a tone so full of contemptuous 
 meaning that it cut like a whip. " But you 
 must pardon me if I say that you flatter your- 
 self too much. If all the men with whom I 
 have chanced to amuse myself were kind 
 enough to say that I ' loved them once,' I 
 should be credited with a most facile and im- 
 pressionable heart, indeed." 
 
 Looking at the beautiful, proud face, at 
 the brilliant, scornful eyes, a sudden, horri- 
 ble fear that she might be speaking truth 
 
 came over him. I have written the word hor- 
 rible advisedly ; for, to a man of Arthur Tyn- 
 dale's stamp, there was something inexpres- 
 sibly humiliating in the mere suspicion that 
 he so magnificent in worldly gift?, so full 
 of worldly knowledge should have blindly 
 served as the plaything of a coquette. The 
 thought of his own broken faith he could face 
 with due philosophy, but the idea of having 
 been entwined in such a net as that which an- 
 noyed and cramped him at present, for the 
 mere amusement of a " Bohemian adventu- 
 ress," was more than he could endure. 
 
 " You know that you are insinuating what 
 is not true ! " he said, forgetting courtesy, 
 chivalry, every thing, in the sharp stab under 
 which his pride was writhing. " You know 
 that, whatever else I may or may not have 
 been, I was something more than material 
 for amusement to you ! " 
 
 " Were you ? " she said, quietly ; but 
 there was that in her eyes which might have 
 warned him that this calm boded no good. 
 " You must excuse my forgetfulness of the 
 fact I rarely trouble myself to remember 
 any thing of the past except my debts." 
 
 The significance of the last words were 
 not lost on him ; but, feeling that the con- 
 versation had taken a wrong turn conscious 
 that he was doing himself infinitely more 
 harm than good he caught eagerly at this 
 the first opportunity she had given him to 
 learn what she really meant to do. 
 
 " You have or you may think that you 
 have a debt against me," he said, quickly. 
 " How do you mean to pay that, Norah ? " 
 
 " Have I a debt against you, Mr. Tyn- 
 dale ? " said she, with a kind of mocking sur- 
 prise. " I am afraid I must ask you to re- 
 fresh my memory with regard to it. Past 
 follies are the things of all others which I 
 most readily forget." 
 
 " You are trying my patience ! " he said, 
 setting his teeth savagely. " But you would 
 do well to remember that you may try it a 
 little too far." 
 
 " And what of mine ? " she asked, with 
 the well-remembered Celtic passion suddenly 
 blazing out upon him from every eloquent 
 feature. " Do you think that, because I 
 have chosen to ignore your insults, I have 
 not felt and shall not remember them ? 
 Your knowledge of me might have helped 
 you to judge better than that. We have met 
 to-day as strangers," she went on, after a
 
 AN INOPPORTUNE APPEARANCE. 
 
 moment ; " as strangers ever hereafter we 
 shall meet. Remember this ; and remember, 
 also, that, if you ever presume to address 
 me again as you have addressed me here, the 
 means of remedy are in my hands, and I shall 
 not hesitate to use them unsparingly." 
 
 " If you are attempting to threaten me " 
 he began, with the air of a Bayard. 
 
 But she interrupted him with cool de- 
 cision. 
 
 " Pardon me, I am merely placing a plain 
 alternative before you. Having done so, there 
 is nothing more to add. The past of my life 
 in which you have played a short and most 
 unworthy part, is dead forever, and God is 
 my witness " extending her white arm with 
 sudden, passionate energy " that, if I could 
 drain my blood to wash out its last lingering 
 memory, I would gladly do so ! With my fu- 
 ture you have no connection. It is not neces- 
 sary to remind me that you wish none " as 
 his lips unclosed. " I will take that for grant- 
 ed all the more readily, because any associa- 
 tion with you would be the last, worst evil 
 which Fate could send to me. Now, will you 
 be kind enough to go ? I can readily find 
 my way to the house alone." 
 
 Couched in the form of a request, these 
 words were, in truth, little more than an im- 
 perious command ; but, conscious in what 
 bungling fashion he had gone to work con- 
 scious that he had learned literally nothing 
 of that which he most desired to know 
 Tymlale made one last effort. 
 
 " Tor God's sake, Norah, don't send me 
 away like this ! " he said, eagerly. " How 
 can I tell when I may be able to speak to you 
 again ; and I I must know what you mean 
 to do ! Any certainty is better than " 
 
 He stopped short. Though he was stand- 
 ing with his back to the door, something in 
 Norah's eyes suddenly warned him of anoth- 
 er presence in the summer-house besides their 
 own. Turning sharply, he faced Carl Mid- 
 dleton. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " To-morrow we meet the same, then, dearest? 
 
 May I take your hand in mine ? 
 Mere friends are we well, friends the merest 
 Keep much that I'll resign." 
 
 THERE was a second's awkward pause. 
 Then Middleton had sufficient presence of 
 mind to come forward, as if he saw nothing 
 
 unusual in the faces or the attitudes before 
 him. 
 
 " Am I not lucky to get off duty so soon ? " 
 he said. " When we reached the house, Les- 
 lie found some visitors, and I at once slipped 
 away grateful enough to them for having 
 come, you may be sure." 
 
 " You are lucky," said Norah, smiling 
 she had well - trained muscles, for no one 
 could have told from that smile how her 
 pulses were beating, with a rush which made 
 itself felt in one vibrating thrill through her 
 whole body "I congratulate you on your 
 escape, and I am glad to see you back very 
 glad ! " she added, with an unmistakable ac- 
 cent of sincerity. 
 
 The young man flushed a little evidently 
 with pleasure. " You are very kind to say 
 so," he answered. " I am glad to find you 
 still here. I thought you might have wan- 
 dered away somewhere only it is scorching 
 out in the sun." 
 
 " Too scorching for wandering, I should 
 think," said she, and she sat down almost wea- 
 rily as she spoke having, in truth, good cause 
 to be weary after the battle she had fought. 
 
 " Do you feel tired ? " asked Carl, quick- 
 ly. " Absolutely, for once in a way, you look 
 pale." 
 
 "Do I ? That is strange heat ought to 
 flush, ought it not ? Suppose you come and 
 play the part of Zephyr," she added, holding 
 out her fan. " You don't object, do you ? " 
 
 Object ! No one could have suspected 
 him of such a sentiment who saw the eager- 
 ness with which he advanced, and, taking the 
 pretty toy, began to play the part rather of 
 Boreas than of Zephyr. 
 
 " There ! that will do ! " said she. " I 
 don't want to be blown away entirely. Are 
 you going, Mr. Tyndale ? Pray tell Leslie 
 that I will follow aa soon as I can summon 
 sufficient resolution for the effort. If you 
 could only order up a cloud or two for our 
 benefit, it would be a great relief." 
 
 " I am sorry that I cannot do even that 
 much in your service," said Tyndale, with 
 more bitterness than it was wise to have dis- 
 played ; but he could not entirely repress the 
 exasperation which he felt in seeing another 
 man enjoy before his very eyes the place he 
 had lost or resigned it did not, at that mo- 
 ment, matter which. 
 
 " Tell Leslie to send an umbrella, won't 
 you ? " said Carl, in his off-hand fashion. " It
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 was awfully thoughtless of me not to hare 
 brought one." 
 
 Thus, burdened with a double message, 
 Mr. Tyndale took his departure descending 
 the steps of the pavilion, and walking away 
 down an arcade which led to the house. As 
 Norah looked after him, the scene made a 
 picture which she never forgot the vivid 
 sunlight quivering on the deep-green foliage, 
 the flickering net -work of shadows falling 
 softly over the smooth turf, the blue sky 
 flecked here and there with fleecy clouds, and 
 the slender, graceful figure, thrown into re- 
 lief by the summer landscape and the golden 
 light. 
 
 When she glanced back at Carl Middleton, 
 however, and saw by the look in his eyes that 
 he had been watching her, a sudden blush 
 rose to her face. 
 
 " It is very ill-bred to stare at people ! " 
 she said, sharply. " I have told you so be- 
 fore, and you know that I dislike it particu- 
 larly." 
 
 " Is it ill-bred ? " asked he. " This is the 
 second time to-day that you have convicted 
 me of a solecism of good manners. But, if it 
 is ill-bred, why were you staring at Mr. Tyn- 
 dale ? " 
 
 " I was not staring at him," she answered, 
 with a flash in her eye which showed the ig- 
 nited spark of a quick temper. "You are 
 very impertinent to venture to say so ! There 
 is a very great difference between staring and 
 and looking at a person." 
 
 " I was only looking at you," he said, 
 quietly. " One stares, does one not, when 
 one means to be impertinent ? Now, I cer- 
 tainly did not mean that, for I was engaged 
 in wondering why you looked at Tyndale in 
 just that way ! " 
 
 " In just what way ? " asked she, carelessly. 
 " He has a good figure and carries it well. I 
 like both things in a man and, liking them, 
 I like also to watch them." 
 
 " Yet the expression of your face did not 
 look much as if you were thinking of his fig- 
 ure, or of his walk," said Middleton. "It 
 looked rather as if you were thinking of 
 7i?m." 
 
 " Your impertinence appears to be ascend- 
 ing in the scale of comparison," said she, " but, 
 for the novelty of the thing, I am rather in- 
 clined to humor it. So, granting that I was 
 thinking of him what then ? " 
 
 " I have already been impertinent in the 
 
 positive and comparative degrees, have I 
 not ? " he asked, in return. " Then I might 
 as well be impertinent in the superlative, and 
 ask what you were thinking of him." 
 
 She laughed. She was recovering herself, 
 and any thing like a tilt of words and wit 
 always pleased her. 
 
 " Do you chance to remember what Hot- 
 spur answered when Owen Glendower boasted 
 that he could call spirits from the vasty deep ?" 
 she inquired. " ' So can I ; but will they come ? ' 
 Now, it strikes me that is rather applicable to 
 your question. It is asked, but will it be an- 
 swered ? " 
 
 " I am more resigned than you imagine, 
 perhaps," he said ; " for I have a suspicion 
 that the answer would not be likely to please 
 me if it were given." 
 
 " Are you, then, so deeply interested in 
 Mr. Tyndale that an unfavorable opinion of 
 him might distress you ? " 
 
 " I am not interested in Mr. Tyndale at 
 all," he answered, dryly. 
 
 " Oh, in Leslie's fiance ? I had really for- 
 gotten for a moment that he filled that posi- 
 tion." 
 
 "Nor in Leslie's fiance" said be. " I had 
 forgotten, too, for a minute, that he filled that 
 position. It would be a little strange, would 
 it not, if he should prove to have been afflicted 
 with the same lapse of memory regarding the 
 same fact ? " 
 
 She glanced at him keenly. The signifi- 
 cance of his tone made her sure that he had 
 overheard more than she supposed of her con- 
 versation with Tyndale. 
 
 " It is not likely that he could have for- 
 gotten such a fact," she answered, coldly. 
 " But it does not concern either you or me 
 if he had." 
 
 " It concerns me ! " said he, quickly. " You 
 may rest assured of that, Miss Desmond." 
 
 "As Leslie's cousin, I suppose," said she, 
 composedly. " But do cousins usually take 
 quite so much upon themselves in Amer- 
 ica ? " 
 
 " I am not Leslie's cousin, save by cour- 
 tesy," he replied ; " and I should never dream 
 of taking any thing upon myself in her behalf. 
 She has defenders enough, if defenders were 
 needed. But, on your behalf, I might be 
 tempted to take a good deal." 
 
 "On my behalf!" said Norah and she 
 started in spite of her consummate self-con- 
 trol. " What need have I of a defender, or
 
 CARL MIDDLETON'S PROPOSAL. 
 
 if I needed a hundred what right have you 
 to assume the duties of the position ? " 
 
 " I have two rights," answered he. " One 
 is your need of me ; the other is my love for 
 you ! " 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Norah. She felt at her 
 ease now. When a man began to make love, 
 she knew exactly what to do and what to say. 
 It was as much her native heath as Rob Roy's 
 famous heather was to him. " Oh, this was 
 all ! " she thought, with a curious mixture of 
 relief and disappointment. It was a relief to 
 find that his innuendoes with regard to Tyn- 
 dale had only this meaning ; yet there was 
 disappointment in the quick fall from the ex- 
 citement of combat to the blank sameness of 
 love-making. " But that is all nonsense, you 
 know," she added, after a short pause. " I 
 deny both your rights in loto! I have not 
 the slightest need of you ; in fact, I should 
 not have an idea what to do with you if I had 
 you ; while that which you are pleased to 
 term your love for me is only a penchant for 
 pretty faces and flirtation in general applied 
 to a particular person." 
 
 " Mock at me, if you please,'' said he, pal- 
 ing, but speaking steadily. " I expected nothing 
 else. You never give any thing else to me. 
 All the same, the day may come when you 
 will need me, and then I shall not ask your 
 leave to be your defender. I have said more 
 than I should have done, perhaps, about the 
 man who left us a few minutes ago," he went 
 on. " I have probably made you believe 
 that I overheard more than I really did of 
 your conversation. In truth, I overheard 
 only his last speech. But this speech was 
 not necessary to prove to me that he had 
 spoken falsely when he said he never met 
 you abroad. Your face told me that last 
 night. His face told me so this morning." 
 
 She was looking at him intently while ho 
 spoke. When he finished she made no at- 
 tempt at evasion. 
 
 " I was feeling my way last night," she 
 said. " I wanted to learn how much he had de- 
 nied. It is strange that my face should have 
 betrayed me," she added, with a dispassionate 
 air of surprise. " It never did such a thing 
 before." 
 
 " I am sure that it did not betray you to 
 any one besides myself," he answered. " Leslie 
 suspects nothing. You must see that." 
 
 " Yes, I see that," she assented. 
 
 " But, in saying that she suspects nothing, 
 
 I do not mean to imply that it might not be 
 well for her to know something," he added, 
 quickly. 
 
 " Do you mean that you intend to inform 
 her of what you know ? " she asked, looking 
 at him again with the peculiarly keen glance 
 which her eyes sometimes possessed. 
 
 " You cannot seriously suspect me of such 
 an intention," said he, almost angrily ; " even 
 if I knew any thing which I do not." 
 
 " You know enough to make mischief," 
 said she. " There are many people who do 
 not need to know more than that." 
 
 " If you think me one of them, it proves 
 that you have honored me with very little 
 attention during the time that we have be.en 
 acquaintances." 
 
 " Now you are angry with me," said she, 
 smiling ; " else you would not speak of our 
 being ' acquaintances ' in such a frigid tone 
 that, too, after offering yourself to me as a 
 defender in the most lavish and generous 
 manner ! Will it put you in a good-humor 
 to say that I never fancied for a moment that 
 you would interfere in a matter which has 
 only accidentally come to your knowledge, 
 and which does not concern you in the 
 least ? " 
 
 " You are quite right," said he. " I shall 
 not think of interfering, as far as Leslie is 
 concerned ; but I bind myself with no pledge 
 that will keep me from interfering as far as 
 you are concerned." 
 
 " I think you must be mad," said she, 
 candidly. "In the name of common -sense 
 and common reason (if you know any thing 
 about those things !), what have you to do 
 with me ? " 
 
 " I have already told you what I have to 
 do with you," answered he. 
 
 She leaned back, and looked at him with 
 a laugh in her eye, which for once his glance 
 did not return. 
 
 " It is really a comfort to have one ludi- 
 crous element in an affair which promises to 
 be rather tiresome and troublesome on the 
 whole," she said ; " but, despite your absurd- 
 ity, you must be aware that no claim of the 
 kind holds good unless sanctioned by the per- 
 son in whose behalf 3'ou make it." 
 
 " Permit me to say that you totally misin- 
 terpret the nature of the claim I make," an- 
 swered he, with a face more pale and firm than 
 any one had ever seen Carl Middleton wear be- 
 fore. The straight lines between his brows
 
 4:8 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 had deepened ; the volatile, laughter-loving 
 expression had left his mouth. Just then he 
 looked like a man with whom not even a beau- 
 tiful woman might care to trifle. " It is you 
 who mistake," he said. " I have made no 
 claim that needs your sanction. I love you 
 I have told you that before, have I not ? 
 and, loving you, I hold my life subject to 
 your service. I shall defend you from in- 
 sult, and guard you from contempt, as much 
 us if you had extended your hand and chosen 
 me before the world." 
 
 " I believe I said, a moment ago, that I 
 thought you were crazy," returned Norah, 
 coldly. "Now I think that you are melo- 
 dramatic. Of the two, I prefer the latter 
 phase of character least." 
 
 " You do not think that I am in earnest ? " 
 cried he, passionately. " You do not believe 
 that I mean every word I utter. How little 
 your boasted knowledge of human nature has 
 taught you, then, after all ! " 
 
 " It has taught me more than you think, 
 perhaps," said she, rising to her feet. " It 
 has taught me when to end such folly as this. 
 Good-morning, Mr. Middleton, and allow me 
 to hope that you will be a little more sane 
 and reasonable when I see you again." 
 
 " I shall not detain you after the manner 
 of that cur whom I found standing between 
 you and the door," said he ; " but if you will 
 listen to me for a moment, I should like to 
 ask if love is such a common thing with you 
 that you can afford to throw it away like this ? " 
 
 " The fitful admiration and school - boy 
 passion which you choose to dignify with the 
 name of love, has certainly been sufficiently 
 common in my experience," answered she, 
 haughtily. " You are not the first man who 
 has thought that love-making might be a 
 pleasant variation to flirtation with a Bohe- 
 mian like myself nor the first who has dis- 
 covered his mistake, let me add." 
 
 " How little you know what I feel for you 
 when you can do me such injustice!" said 
 he, quickly. "Flirtation!" he uttered a 
 short laugh " Good Heavens ! As if I were 
 mad enough to dream of flirting with you ! 
 As if I should not be the happiest man on all 
 God's earth if you would only put your hand 
 in mine and promise to marry me ! " 
 
 " And how long would you be happy ? " 
 asked she. " Not to speak of your friends, 
 who would be scarcely likely to be happy at 
 all." 
 
 "My friends have nothing to do with me," 
 he answered. " My life and my fortune are 
 my own. Being my own, I ask nothing bet- 
 ter than to dedicate them to your service." 
 
 " You are very kind," said she, with the 
 same provoking and impassive composure ; 
 "but I really have not the least use for 
 them." 
 
 " Not even the use of convenience ? " 
 asked he, a little bitterly. " Stop, Miss Des- 
 mond, and think ! It is not often that a man 
 puts himself so unreservedly in your hands 
 as I have done. Say but one word, and the 
 man who insulted you here a little while ago 
 shall answer for it as he never dreamed of 
 answering when he was coward enough to de- 
 tain you ! " 
 
 " And do you think that I need your hot 
 blood, or your clumsy, masculine hand to 
 espouse my cause?" asked she, with a smile 
 of scorn rippling over her face. " Do you 
 think I am not able to pay with interest 
 much more than interest, indeed every frac- 
 tion of debt I owe Arthur Tyndale ? Do you 
 fancy that I have come here for any other 
 purpose than that I may pay it, in the time 
 and in the manner that seem best to 
 me?" 
 
 " I know that you are much too clever to 
 need any assistance from me," he said, in 
 rather a crestfallen tone ; " but there are 
 some things that only a man's hand can do 
 clumsy as you think it." 
 
 " It requires a man's hand to take anoth- 
 er man by the throat, I'll admit," said she. 
 " But I have studied in the school of Machi- 
 avelli, and that is not my mode of dealing 
 with those who wish or intend to do me 
 wrong." 
 
 "After all, it is the best and shortest 
 mode," said he, doggedly. " Fine words and 
 fine actions are lost on curs." 
 
 " I have not the faintest idea of bestow- 
 ing any fine words or fine actions on any- 
 body," said she, coolly. 
 
 " You seem to have no intention of be- 
 stowing any words at all on me," said he, 
 looking at her with a certain passionate re- 
 proach in his eyes. " Is it because you do 
 not think me worth them ? Yet, certainly, 
 no man ever loved you better than I do, and, 
 having offered you all that is mine to give, I 
 ask for an answer even though it is only 
 likely to be a rejection." 
 
 " You are right it is only likely to be
 
 A DISCOURAGED SUITOK. 
 
 49 
 
 that," said she, holding out her hand to him 
 with a sudden softening expression of her 
 face. " But still I must thank you for hav- 
 ing spoken as you have done for having 
 treated me as if I were as much your equal 
 in all things as in blood. When a woman 
 has lived the life I have, she learns how to 
 appreciate courtesy and chivalry better than 
 those who have known them from their cra- 
 dles. Of all the many men who have loved 
 or fancied that they loved me, you are one of 
 the few who have had the courage to pro- 
 nounce the word marriage. Now, although 
 I do not intend to take advantage of your 
 generosity, I cannot fail to like you the better 
 for it." 
 
 "And is there no hope that this liking 
 may grow into love ? " asked he, clasping 
 eagerly in both his own the hand she had 
 given. " If you can only say so, I I shall 
 be so patient to wait ! " 
 
 "But I am not sure that it would be right 
 for me to say so," answered she, her eyes 
 fastened as calmly on his face as if he had 
 been a sexagenarian, the clear, rose-brilliance 
 of her cheek undeepened by a shade " I do 
 not think it is in the least probable that I 
 shall ever like you better than I do at pres- 
 ent. Not but that you are more agreeable to 
 me than the majority of men," she added, 
 candidly. 
 
 " Then promise to marry me ! " said he, 
 impetuously. " Take me as a convenience, 
 as a means of 'establishment,' as any thing 
 under heaven, so that you do take me, and 
 that you like no other man better than you 
 like me. At least, if you marry me, you will 
 be done with Bohemia," said he, wistfully. 
 " You will be moderately rich, perfectly free, 
 and passionately loved. Norah, are not these 
 tilings worth a sacrifice ? " 
 
 "No!" answered Norah and the clear, 
 sharp monosyllable seemed to cut the air as 
 Saladiu's sword cleaved its way through the 
 silken cushion "no!" she repeated, "good 
 as these things are, and naturally attractive 
 to a waif and stray like myself, they are dis- 
 tinctly not worth the sacrifice of self-respect 
 and independence. You look surprised? 
 I believe a woman in your world is not sup- 
 posed to suffer any loss of self-respect when 
 she barters herself away for a good establish- 
 ment but we think differently in Bohemia. 
 I should hold that I had done you a great 
 wrong if I married you for any one of the 
 
 reasons you have mentioned ; and I should 
 certainly feel that I had justified the opinion 
 of all those who are good enough to consider 
 me an adventuress ! " 
 
 " But if you loved me, Norah ? " 
 
 "If I loved you I should marry you, let 
 the whole world say what it would," answered 
 she, with a smile so bright and so defiant 
 that it thrilled him to the heart. " I do not 
 love you, however, and I have not the least 
 desire to marry anybody ; so you see we have 
 wasted a great deal of time in talking about 
 something which is not likely to come to 
 pass. By-the-by, don't you think it is time 
 for you to let my hand go ? You are really 
 hurting it." 
 
 She took it from him before he could car- 
 ry it to his lips, as he plainly intended to do, 
 adding, with a nonchalance which was not par- 
 ticularly encouraging to a crestfallen suitor : 
 
 " I won't say let us try and forget what 
 has passed, because that is all nonsense 
 few are able to forget disagreeable things 
 just when they please but I do say let us 
 try to avoid any constraint or awkwardness. 
 It is so inconvenient and so absurd ! We 
 like each other as well as we did before, and, 
 after all, it is a good thing to have had a 
 clear explanation, and settled matters." 
 
 "It may be a good thing," said he, a little 
 doubtfully, " but it has not settled as much 
 as you think. If I do not exactly make the 
 boast of Philip of Spain, and say, ' Time and 
 I against any two ! ' I know that time some- 
 times works wonders for any one who loves 
 as well as I do and then I am your defender 
 and champion if you had rejected me a hun- 
 dred times ! " 
 
 " When will you understand that I am my 
 own defender, and that I need no champion ? " 
 asked she, impatiently. " What folly you 
 talk ! But then you are young something 
 must be allowed for that, I suppose. Now, 
 let us go back to the house, for I see that we 
 are likely to continue talking in a circle as 
 long as we stay here, and really the weather 
 is too warm for such excessive loquacity." 
 
 Back to the house they went accordingly 
 in more amicable companionship than 
 might perhaps be imagined, for Norah Des- 
 mond was not a woman to allow a man to be 
 ill at ease in her society. It was a point of 
 pride with her, indeed, that she had a very 
 effective way of dissipating any thing like 
 constraint when she chose to do so. With
 
 50 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Middleton she did choose, and, before they 
 reached the house, she had so tantalized, 
 amused, and charmed him, .that he was more 
 hopelessly and desperately ihjove than ever. 
 If she had been asked why siie did this, she 
 would probably have answered that she liked 
 the pleasant young fellow in his way, and 
 that, since it was certain that they would in- 
 habit the same house for some time to come, 
 it would be exceedingly disagreeable to be on 
 stiff or formal terms with him. In truth, 
 being a woman accustomed to exercise pow- 
 er, and fond of receiving admiration, she did 
 not fancy the idea of surrendering the only 
 homage which was available just then, and, 
 consequently, she exerted herself to make 
 Carl understand that there need be no change 
 in their relation to each other. "You really 
 ought to be obliged to me for not having ac- 
 cepted you," she said to him. 
 
 " If I had, whom would you flirt with ? You 
 would be ia as bad a condition as the French- 
 man, who asked where he should spend his 
 evenings when advised to marry the lady 
 with whom he had spent them for twenty 
 years." 
 
 " I have nothing of the Frenchman in my 
 composition," said he, "but, if it were abso- 
 lutely necessary for me to flirt with some- 
 body, I might find Mrs. Sandford useful in an 
 emergency. Leslie tells me that she will be 
 here in a day or two." 
 
 " And who is Mrs. Sandford ? " 
 
 " A person of note in a small way. She 
 was a fast young lady when I left home ; 
 afterward I heard that she was a fast married 
 woman ; now she is a fast widow." 
 
 " She has run the gamut, then, of fastness 
 in all conditions of life. What a study she 
 will be for me ! I have not an idea what 
 constitutes a fast woman on this side of the 
 Atlantic, though I know very well what con- 
 stitutes it on the other." 
 
 The house looked cool and airy when they 
 entered it. In the wide hall there was a 
 pleasant green light from the closed blinds 
 at each door, which kept out the fierce noon- 
 day glare. Chairs and lounges were placed 
 there ; book", newspapers, and work, were 
 scattered about every thing showed that it 
 was a fnvovite and informal gathering-place 
 of the family. Mrs. Middleton, who was 
 seated alone, looked up as they entered. 
 
 "Did you not find it very warm?" she 
 asked. " Leslie reported the heat to be in- 
 
 tense, and Mr. Tyndale seemed almost over- 
 powered by it. I was opposed to his walking 
 back to Strafford ; but he insisted upon going 
 young people are always so obstinate ! " 
 
 "So Tyndale went back, did he?" said 
 Curl. "If the heat was so overpowering, I 
 wonder he walked over simply for the sake 
 of spending half an hour or so with Leslie." 
 
 " He came as an act of courtesy to Miss 
 Desmond, I think," answered Mrs. Middleton, 
 in her stately way. "Otherwise, he would 
 have been kept at home by a business en- 
 gagement all the morning, he said. He has 
 promised to dine with us this evening, how- 
 ever and his cousin," she added, turning to 
 Norah ; " so you will be able to sec more of 
 him." 
 
 Miss Desmond bowed with the air of one 
 profoundly grateful for such a privilege. 
 
 "Is the cousin at all like Mr. Tyndale ? " 
 she asked, by way of a diversion that would 
 not be too far away from the subject to excite 
 attention. 
 
 " Not in the least," answered Leslie's gay 
 voice behind her. " Fancy Arthur's opposite 
 in every thing that is Captain Tyndale!" 
 
 " You don't like him, then, I suppose ? " 
 said Carl. 
 
 "And pray, why should that follow?" 
 asked she. , . . 
 
 " If he is the exact opposite of your Prince 
 Charming, I don't see how you could con- 
 veniently manage to like both of them." 
 
 " There are things which ' differ, in order 
 to correspond,' Mr. Philosopher," said she, 
 smiling. " Want of similarity is not always 
 want of harmony. I should be very ungrate- 
 ful if I did not like Captain Tyndale, for he 
 certainly is very fond of Arthur." 
 
 " Did you not say that he is half a French- 
 man ? " asked Miss Desmond. " How does 
 that happen ? " 
 
 " His father wa attached to the American 
 legation in Paris," said Mrs. Middleton, who 
 had one of those memories of the old school, 
 that never forget a genealogical point. " He 
 married a Frenchwoman, and, after that, lived 
 principally in France. So it came to pass 
 that Captain Tyndale is half French in blood, 
 and almost wholly French in training." 
 
 " I supposehe cannot be reasonably blamed 
 for either fact," said Carl; "but really it is 
 very hard on the poor fellow ! Why couldn't 
 his father have stayed at home, or else gone 
 to Germany ? "
 
 ARTHUR'S PLAN OF DECEPTION. 
 
 51 
 
 " I am afraid we shall have another Franco- 
 Prussian War when Captain Tyndale and your- 
 self meet," said Leslie. "Come, Norah, 
 luncheon is ready after that we will take 
 our siesta ; and, after that, you shall make 
 yourself as lovely as possible for dinner." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " Said I not so ? 
 
 my prophetic heart ! . . . 
 
 He has not betrayed me he could not betray me. 
 
 1 never doubted it." 
 
 WHEN that obstinate young man, Arthur 
 Tyndale, reached Strafford, after a very warm 
 and exceedingly disagreeable walk, he found 
 his cousin established in the shady library, 
 with a novel and a cigar. " Confound the 
 fellow, how comfortable he looks ! " was the 
 first thought of the over-heated pedestrian, 
 as he entered this cool retreat green shade 
 rustling without the open windows, mellow 
 depths of oak wainscot and book-lined walls 
 within and observed, with a sense of ex- 
 asperation, the air of repose which pervaded 
 every line of the figure extended at full length 
 on a couch at the farther end of the room. 
 
 " You are back rather soon," said Max, 
 looTdng up lazily. " Didn't you find it very 
 warm ? " 
 
 " Warm ! " repeated Arthur, in a tone of 
 impatience. lie flung himself into a chair, 
 and pushed back the rings of damp hair that 
 clung moistly to his brow. " Go out into the 
 sun and try it a little, won't you ? I think 
 you'll be more likely to call it infernally 
 hot ! " 
 
 " I thought you would be apt to find it 
 so," said Max, philosophically. " Order some 
 iced sherbet, my dear fellow. It is the most 
 refreshing thing you can " 
 
 "Deuce take refreshment!" interrupted 
 the other, irritably. " I haven't time to think 
 about iced sherbet just now. Max, you can't 
 imagine what cursed ill-luck I have had this 
 morning ! " 
 
 " Indeed t" said Max. He raised himself 
 on his elbow, with a quick look of interest in 
 his dark eyes. "How was it?" he asked. 
 " Does Miss Grahame know or suspect any 
 thing?" 
 
 " Not the least thing, as yet ; but there is 
 no telling how soon she may know every 
 thing. Norah opened the ball, last night, 
 
 with a vengeance, by informing the assembled 
 family that she had met me abroad." 
 
 " The devil ! " 
 
 " Or, if not me it seems she did not stand 
 to that point some one bearing the name of 
 Tyndale." 
 
 " Well, that's rather more vague." 
 
 "So they have decided Mrs. Middleton 
 and Leslie that it must have been you." 
 
 " Me ! " said Captain Tyndale. He opened 
 his eyes still wider for a moment, then burst 
 into a laugh. " Parbleu, but that is a good 
 joke ! What did you tell them ? " 
 
 " I told Leslie, at first, that it was absurd ; 
 but, when Mrs. Middleton spoke of it, I 
 thought I would leave the matter for you to 
 contradict. After all, I am not supposed to 
 be aware of all the women whom you may 
 have met in your life." 
 
 "That is very true; but still you know 
 that I have never met Miss Desmond." 
 
 " Yes, I know it ; but there is no earthly 
 reason why you should rial have met her ; and 
 and, if you had, it would make matters a 
 good deal easier for me." 
 
 " Granted, with all my heart ; but the fact 
 remains the same, that I have not had that 
 pleasure." 
 
 " But, hang it, Max ! it would do no harm 
 to let them think so for a little time, you 
 know." 
 
 " Let them think so ! " repeated Max. 
 He shot a keen glance at his companion. 
 "Do you mean that I should tell a downright 
 lie? "he asked. "I don't know how else I 
 could ' let them think so.' And it would not 
 only be a lie, as far as I am concerned, but a 
 most unwarrantable liberty, as far as Miss 
 Desmond is concerned." 
 
 " I am not asking you to tell any thing 
 at all," answered Arthur, impatiently. " Con- 
 found it, you are amazingly straitlaced air at 
 once ! Can't you see that all I ask you to do 
 is to let the thing pass, and not to deny that 
 you were the man whom Miss Desmond met 
 abroad ? " 
 
 " But don't you see that, if I were inclined 
 to oblige you a hundred times, it would do no 
 good ? Miss Desmond herself can certainly 
 tell whom she met abroad, and she is not like- 
 ly to mistake my mahogany face for your red 
 and white one." 
 
 " Of course, the whole thing hangs on her ; 
 but, if she allows it to be tacitly accepted 
 that you were the man and, somehow, I
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 have an idea that she may all I ask of you 
 is, that you will take the advantage thus af- 
 forded you to do me another and still greater 
 favor." 
 
 "So there's another, is there?" said Max. 
 He rose as he spoke, and walked across the 
 floor, "See here, Hal," he said, stopping 
 after a while, "this will not do ! You know 
 perfectly well that, in any thing which is 
 open and fair, I would serve you heartily ; 
 but I cannot consent to take either a passive 
 or an active part in such a gross deception as 
 that which you are practising on a woman 
 who deserves better things at your hands ! " 
 
 " Am I asking you to take any part in it ? " 
 demanded Arthur, angrily, but conscious that 
 he could not afford just then to quarrel with 
 Max. " This deception, as you call it, is a 
 thing which I detest as much as you do ; but 
 it is also a thing in which I became entangled 
 without my knowledge, and from which I 
 must free myself as best I can. All that I 
 ask from you is your assistance in doing this. 
 If you refuse it, well and good : I can get 
 along without you, no doubt. But don't make 
 a pretext of refusing it on Leslie's account, 
 for the best way to serve her would be to end 
 all question of deception at once." 
 
 " What is it you want me to do ? " asked 
 the other, reluctantly. " I don't promise that 
 I will do it, mind you ! but still there's no 
 harm in hearing what it is ! " 
 
 " It is simply this : to find out from Norah 
 what she means to do whether she intends 
 to hold her tongue or to make mischief and, 
 if possible, to obtain my letters from her." 
 
 " Great Heaven ! " said Max, aghast. 
 " Are you mad ? How on earth could I ap- 
 proach a woman, of whom I know nothing, 
 with such demands as those ? " 
 
 " Simply by understanding, in the first 
 place, that any thing like chivalrous delicacy 
 would be quite out of place with such a wom- 
 an as Norah Desmond," said Arthur, with a 
 bitter sneer. " And, in the second place, by 
 going about the business like a diplomatist, 
 and not with point-blank ' demands.' " 
 
 " I have been bred in camps, and not in 
 drawing-rooms," returned Max, dryly. " If 
 you want diplomacy, I am afraid you must go 
 elsewhere for it." 
 
 " I only propose such a plan," said the 
 other, with fresh irritation, " because you 
 are not fettered as I am nobody will think 
 it remarkable if you walk or talk with Norah 
 
 while Ic^otild only see her by stealth if I 
 saw her at all ; for, besides the Middletons, 
 who look on me with any thing but eyes of 
 love, there's a young sprig of a nephew there 
 who is head over ears in love with her, and 
 already suspicious of rac." 
 
 " How have you managed to find that 
 out?" 
 
 " Easily enough as you shall hear." 
 
 Then he told the story of the scene in the 
 summer-house of his own discomfiture when 
 he attempted to sound Miss Desmond, and of 
 Carl's inopportune appearance just when he 
 could not have failed to overhear that last 
 significant appeal. It need not be imagined, 
 however, that, in relating these occurrences, 
 Mr. Tyndale was of necessity obliged to give 
 them exactly the coloring of reality. He was 
 too much a man of the world to represent 
 himself in a contemptible or badly-worsted 
 light; and, although he gave Max a sub- 
 stantially correct outline of what had taken 
 place, he was careful to say nothing of his 
 own blunders or of .Norah's scorn. On her 
 passionate defiance, however, he dwelt em- 
 phatically. 
 
 " She absolutely went so far as to threaten 
 me with immediate exposure if I spoke to 
 her again," he said. " So, you see, my only 
 hope is in you." 
 
 "And she gave you no hint as to what 
 she meant to do ? " 
 
 * " Not the least. Now, you know this un- 
 certainty this sort of sword -of -Damocles 
 business is more than a man can be ex- 
 pected to endure. As far as I personally am 
 concerned, I should not mind it in the least. 
 I should simply let Miss Desmond do or say 
 her worst. I am not the first man who has 
 flirted with a fast coquette. But there is 
 Leslie. It would be hard on her." 
 
 " Yes," said Max. He turned on his heel 
 and walked to the window as he spoke. 
 Standing there, looking out over the green 
 landscape and the bosky depths of summer 
 shade, his mind went back to the May even- 
 ing when be had loitered by Leslie's side 
 among the roses, and when she had spoken 
 with almost wistful sadness of her great hap- 
 piness. He had seen then that this happi- 
 ness, whether for good or ill, was irrevocably 
 bound up in Arthur Tyndale, and, with this 
 knowledge, had come the resolution that Ar- 
 thur should " keep straight," if he had any 
 power to make him do so. It was too late to
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S OPINION. 
 
 53 
 
 think of his worthiness or uuworthiness for 
 the great gift that had fallen into his life 
 too late to ask whether that loyal and tender 
 heart might not have been better bestowed 
 what was done was done with such distinct 
 completeness that Max plainly perceived that 
 any event which proved his cousin unworthy 
 would stab Leslie's life all the more deeply 
 for Leslie's pride. Feeling this by an in- 
 stinct which is not often given to men, and 
 feeling, also, with the sort of despair common 
 to us all, that she must take things (and peo- 
 ple) as they are, without hoping or expect- 
 ing to make them what they should be, he 
 recognized that his best way of serving Leslie 
 was to help Arthur as far as possible out of 
 Miss Desmond's net. Of Miss Desmond her- 
 self, it may be said, in passing, that he had 
 the lowest possible opinion. A woman who 
 was a celebrity at Baden and Homburg, who 
 had an adventurer for a father, and who was 
 plainly determined to make Arthur pay a 
 heavy price for freedom from entanglement, 
 offended every one of his 'most cherished 
 ideas and opinions. If he had consulted his 
 own taste, he would have preferred to have 
 nothing to do with her ; but, since that was 
 impossible, he made up "his mind to further 
 his cousin's cause with as much earnest ef- 
 fort as he could exert. 
 
 So it came to pass that Arthur still lean- 
 ing back in the depths of his chair, and con- 
 templating a bust of Dante with a frown of 
 petulant discontent and ill-humor was rath- 
 er surprised when the tall figure at the win- 
 dow turned with its quick, military swing, 
 and Max's voice said : 
 
 " Don't think me churlish for having taken 
 some time to consider matters, Hal. I doubt 
 if I shall be a very valuable auxiliary, but, 
 nevertheless, I'll do my best for you as far as 
 I can 1 " 
 
 "I was sure you'd never leave me to get 
 out of the scrape by myself, old fellow," an- 
 swered Arthur, gratefully. And in those few 
 words the compact was made and the matter 
 ended. 
 
 Six or seven hours later the heat of the 
 day being over, and the long, cool shadows 
 of late evening lying over green turf and 
 dusty, sun-baked road the two cousins drove 
 up to the door of Rosland in Mr. Tyndale's 
 dog-cart. The disk of the sun was just touch- 
 ing the horizon when they entered the draw- 
 ing room, and his level rays were pouring 
 
 through the western windows in a stream of 
 light which made so dazzling an illumination 
 that, for a few seconds, the young men were 
 absolutely unable to tell who was before 
 them. The transcendent glory was short- 
 lived, however. Even while they hesitated, 
 the great orb sank, and they saw that three 
 ladies and two gentlemen made up the group 
 gathered in the centre of the large apartment. 
 Greetings having been exchanged, and Cap- 
 tain Tyndale having been presented to Miss 
 Desmond, such commonplaces as people in 
 the country usually talk, ensued. 
 
 "Found it very dusty, didn't you?" said 
 Mr. Middleton to Arthur. "I never knew 
 rain needed worse than it is just now." 
 
 " Every thing is so dreadfully parched ! " 
 said Mrs. Middletou, in a confiding aside to 
 Max. " It really makes one sad to go into 
 the garden. Don't you feel as sorry for flow- 
 ers, when they droop, as for people, when 
 they are sick ? I always do." 
 
 "The Andersons, who were here this 
 morning, report the drought still worse with 
 them," said Leslie. " They say their garden 
 is literally burned up. By-the-by, Arthur, 
 Lizzie Anderson is to marry Frank Tabor, 
 after all. Are you not surprised to hear it ? 
 She rejected him half a dozen times, people 
 said. Fancy accepting a man, at last, whom 
 you h:id rejected half a dozen times ! " 
 
 "There is always luck in odd numbers, 
 you know," said Tyndale, with a smile of 
 tolerably well simulated interest, " and seven 
 is an odd number, if my arithmetic serves 
 me." 
 
 " There is encouragement for me ! " said 
 Carl, in a discreet aside to Norah. " If Frank 
 Tabor whom I remember as a black-eyed 
 young rascal at school persevered after six 
 rejections, / certainly should not despair, 
 after one ! But imagine, if you can, the 
 moral pluck, or the mental despair, of a man 
 who could screw his courage to the sticking- 
 point of a seventh proposal ! " 
 
 " It proves that he was exceedingly fool- 
 ish, as well as rather obstinate," said Norah 
 and, as a lull had just then fallen in the 
 general conversation, her words were audible 
 to all the group. " No woman in the world is 
 worth half so much trouble ! I never see a 
 man desperately bent upon such a chase that 
 I do not feel inclined to remind him of the 
 fact that there is any number of other wom- 
 en in the world, multitudes of whom are pret-
 
 54: 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 tier, and cleverer, and more desirable in every 
 way, than the one of whom he is so madly 
 enamored." 
 
 "But what are other women to a man who 
 loves one?" asked Leslie. "And, then, con- 
 stancy, Norah surely you admire constancy 
 even when it is misplaced ? " 
 
 " I am not at all sure that I do," answered 
 Norah. "I am inclined to think that con- 
 stancy, in such cases, simply means weakness 
 and want of self-respect. A spaniel is con- 
 stant to the hand that repulses him, but we 
 don't exactly admire the trait: and I have 
 known many women, and some men, who 
 were spaniels. After all," pursued she, " why 
 should we exalt constancy into such a virtue ? 
 It certainly is not according to the law of Na- 
 ture. ' In Nature, all things change. No man's 
 body is the same at twenty-five and forty 
 neither is any man's character. Therefore, 
 why should we expect his heart alone to be 
 unchanged ? " 
 
 " I had no idea that you were such a here- 
 tic ! " said Leslie, laughing ; but she felt, in 
 the silence around, that the careless, defiant 
 words had shocked most of the audience. 
 " You forget one thing," she added, after a 
 moment ; " if constancy is not according to 
 the law of Nature which I freely grant it 
 is because it is above Nature, as many other 
 virtues are. I am sure you will not deny 
 that." 
 
 " It would require a person more fond of 
 theory and argument than I am to deny you 
 any thing," said Norah. "For peace' sake, 
 and to be obliging, I would surrender the 
 most cherished opinion that I have. Apropos, 
 I saw, not long ago, a definition of an agree- 
 able person, which rather struck me. 'He 
 was very amiable in temper,' it said, 'and 
 had no strong opinions.' " 
 
 " I would not give a fig for a man who 
 had no strong opinions," said Mr. Middleton. 
 " He might as well be without a backbone." 
 
 " Oh, a man; of course, should have them ! " 
 said Norah. "But a woman, you see, is dif- 
 ferent. Opinions only make us disagreeable. 
 We should be, as nearly as possible, graceful, 
 receptive nonentities, blindly adoring the mas- 
 culine intellect, and ready to believe, on an 
 emergency, that the moon is made of green 
 cheese." 
 
 " I assure you that you quite mistake my 
 meaning," said Mr. Middleton, gravely. 
 
 But, since dinner was announced just then, 
 
 his apology was brought to an end, together 
 with the young philosopher's somewhat cyni- 
 cal satire. As they left the drawing-room, 
 Captain Tyndale thought that Miss Desmond 
 was quite as disagreeable as he had expected 
 to find her. In fact, during these few min- 
 utes, she had shown her character in even a 
 worse light than he had anticipated. Her 
 tone of mingled levity and skepticism with 
 a certain bright, hard cleverness showing 
 through jarred on and disgusted him more 
 than the most free and easy " fastness " could 
 have done. "Arthur is right; she is a Bohe- 
 mian adventuress," he thought, "more out- 
 spoken than the most of her class, but with 
 nothing of a true woman in her." Like a 
 great many other people, Captain Tyndale for- 
 got to ask himself by what authentic standard 
 he had measured his ideal " true woman ; " or 
 whether, after all, his abstract idea of what 
 the sex should be, in general, was quite a fair 
 rule for judging Miss Desmond in particular. 
 He could not but acknowledge, however, 
 that her beauty was something extraordinary, 
 as he sat opposite her at dinner, and studied 
 the perfect face, line by line, and feature by 
 feature. Even with her beauty, however, he 
 found fault. It was" too brilliant for his taste. 
 He agreed with Mrs. Middleton that a thor- 
 ough-bred woman should never make a "sen- 
 sation ; " and it was undeniable that Norah 
 Desmond could not have walked through the 
 quietest village in Christendom without draw- 
 ing eager glances of admiration to herself. 
 -Looking from her to Leslie, he thought how 
 much more of attraction there was in the 
 delicate face of the latter, with its silken soft 
 brown hair, and 
 
 " . . . . loveliness which rather lay 
 In light than color ; " 
 
 and it chanced that, while he was so thinking, 
 Leslie turned and spoke to him. 
 
 " I have been telling Norah, Captain Tyn- 
 dale, that I am sure she must have known 
 you abroad. She thinks that she remembers 
 having met some one named Tyndale at Ba- 
 den or Homburg ; and, since it was not Ar- 
 thur, I think it must have been yourself. 
 Tell me, am I not right ? Have you not seen 
 her before ? " 
 
 " What a horribly direct question ! " Ar- 
 thur thought, conscious that his complexion 
 was changing color just then in its most try- 
 ing manner. " Max will never venture to
 
 NORAH'S SURPRISE AND INDIGNATION. 
 
 answer it in the affirmative. Why on earth 
 should Leslie bring up the subject just now ! 
 Confound all women and their tongues, I 
 say ! " 
 
 But Max, meanwhile with no change of 
 color on hit weather-beaten visage had cool- 
 ly lifted his .eyes and met Miss Desmond's 
 glance. There was a defiance in it which he 
 was sufficiently quick to read aright. " Take 
 your cousin's identity upon yourself, if you 
 dare ! " it said to him ; and he smiled a little 
 as he answered : 
 
 " It is probable enough that Miss Des- 
 mond does not remember me ; but I have 
 certainly had the pleasure of seeing her be- 
 fore." 
 
 It amused him a little, as he uttered these 
 words, to observe that, instead of any thing 
 like surprise, an expression of scarcely-veiled 
 contempt came over Norah's face. "You 
 have spoken falsely ! " her eyes said to him, 
 but her lips only parted in the smile of scorn 
 peculiar to them. 
 
 " Captain Tyndale's memory is so much 
 better than my own that I do not like to run 
 the risk of telling him that he is mistaken," 
 she said, very coldly ; and Arthur gave a sigh 
 of relief as he saw that she did not mean to 
 make a " scene." " But I suppose that I may 
 at least be permitted to say that I have not 
 the faintest recollection of himself or his 
 face." 
 
 " My face is not an uncommon one," said 
 Max, carelessly. " It has its disadvantages, 
 especially in the fact of looking like a mill- 
 ion or two other faces ; but, then, it has its 
 advantages, also, some of which are very sol- 
 id ones. If I wanted to escape from a detec- 
 tive or a woman, for instance, how much bet- 
 ter my chance would be than Arthur's here!" 
 
 " Yes, if Norah had seen Arthur, she cer- 
 tainly could not have forgotten him" said 
 Leslie, innocently. 
 
 " You are mistaken about one thing, how- 
 ever," said Xorah, looking at Max. " A wom- 
 an's eyes, when sharpened by love or hate, 
 pierce through all disguises ; and, although 
 your face is in general like a good many other 
 faces, especially faces in France, it has a 
 great deal of individuality besides." 
 
 " Thanks," said he, quietly. " I am glad 
 to hear that it has individuality, even though 
 it lessens somewhat my problematiciil chance 
 of escape if I should ever kill a man or be- 
 tray a. woman." 
 
 " If you intend to do one or the other," 
 said she, " take my advice, and kill a man. It 
 is the safer experiment of the two." 
 
 The dilating glow of her eyes, as she ut- 
 tered the last words, was certainly superb ; 
 but it was also full of unpleasant significance 
 to one person at least. Arthur Tyndale in- 
 voluntarily lifted his glass of wine to his lips 
 and drained it. He felt that he stood in need 
 of support, and this was the most convenient 
 form in which it presented itself to him. 
 " What does she mean to do ? " he thought. 
 " The devil seems to possess her ! I have 
 half a mind to make a clean breast of it all to 
 Leslie, and so block her game." But that 
 such a resolution was utterly impracticable, 
 Mr. Tyndale was thoroughly conscious, even 
 while he gave mental utterance to it. He 
 was at Miss Desmond's mercy. lie felt that 
 fact to the bottom of his boots felt it with a 
 desponding sense that even the mellow glow 
 of the wine he had so liberally quaffed could 
 not dispel. 
 
 Just then, to his great relief, Carl Middle- 
 ton changed the dangerous course of conver- 
 sation. Instinct -warned him to do this im- 
 mediately after Norah'a last speech, and he 
 plunged at once into the first convenient sub- 
 
 i ject, which chanced to be the existing state 
 of government in France. 
 
 " By-the-way, what do you think of M. 
 Thiers ? " he asked Max, with a degree of 
 
 , relevance that was rather startling. " How 
 
 , long do you think he will be able to hold his 
 own over there in Paris ? " 
 
 " Probably till the Prussians are safely 
 
 I off the soil of France," answered the other, 
 who rarely betrayed surprise, however much 
 he might feel it. 
 
 " And who do you think will be most 
 likely to succeed him to profit by the pres- 
 sent state of affairs, you know ? " proceeded 
 Carl, in a dispassionate tone of inquiry. 
 
 Max shrugged his shoulders with a rath- 
 er amused expression of face. " How can I 
 tell?" he said. " I am no prophet. Per- 
 haps there are no better words in which to 
 answer you than those which have lately fall- 
 en from royal lips : ' La parole cst d la Prance 
 et fheure d Dieu.' " 
 
 " I remember that sentence," said Carl. 
 " I was struck by its epigrammatic force when 
 I saw it first. Poetically it does very well 
 indeed." 
 
 " Young Germany, you see, quite excludes
 
 56 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 the idea of God (save in poetry) from the af- 
 fairs of nations," said Leslie. 
 
 " Mr. Middleton is one of the people who 
 only believe in the existence of their own 
 senses," said Norah ; " and, since metaphys- 
 ics have proved conclusively to him that he 
 has no senses, he is in rather a bad condition 
 that is, theoretically. Practically, he sup- 
 ports the inconvenience of being a blank ne- 
 gation very well indeed." 
 
 " He certainly does not look at all like 
 one," said Mr. Middleton, senior, dryly. 
 
 In this manner, although Carl's zeal drew 
 the conversation upon himself, it accom- 
 plished what he desired in the way of effect- 
 ing a diversion. Ranging here and there 
 through fields political, literary, and social 
 the stream of talk did not again approach the 
 dangerous question of what Tyndale Miss Des- 
 mond had known abroad. 
 
 Only when the ladies were alone in the 
 drawing-room did Leslie recur to the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 " You see I was right, Norah ! " she said, 
 triumphantly. " It was Captain Tyndale, af- 
 ter all, whom you knew abroad." 
 
 " You are so often right that I should not 
 think it would be a very novel sensation to 
 you," said Miss Desmond, smiling. " Now, as 
 for me, I am so often wrong, that I really feel 
 scarcely inclined to trust my own judgment 
 on any point whatever. Perhaps I ought to 
 add my memory also, for I certainly have not 
 the faintest recollection of Captain Tyndale's 
 face. Yet I don't think it is as much like 
 every other man's as he fancies. If you had 
 not told me that he belonged to the French 
 army, I should have known it. There is some- 
 thing strikingly suggestive of the Chasseur 
 d'Afrique in his appearance." 
 
 " I hope you mean to like him. He is 
 worth liking, we think." 
 
 " Do you ? But why not say '/think ? ' 
 Surely you do not think, as the army of Flan- 
 ders reasoned, in platoons ? " 
 
 " Not by any means. But the opinion of 
 many is worth more than the opinion of one, 
 is it not ?" 
 
 " That depends so much upon who arc the 
 many and who is the one, that I don't feel 
 equal to giving a general opinion." 
 
 " You are a perfect Talleyrand in petti- 
 coats," said Leslie, laughing. " One would 
 certainly imagine that you believed words to 
 have been invented for the purpose of con- 
 
 cealing thoughts. But you must learn to like 
 Captain Tyndale. He is a special favorite of 
 mine." 
 
 " And an old acquaintaxce of mine pray 
 don't forget that." 
 
 There was such a gleam of mockery in her 
 eyes as she uttered the last words, that Les- 
 lie said, quickly : 
 
 " I believe that you half suspect Captain 
 Tyndale of having claimed your acquaintance 
 without any right to do so. Now, if you 
 knew him at all, you would know that he is 
 incapable of taking such a liberty a liberty 
 which would be a gross presumption ! " she 
 added, indignantly. 
 
 " You are right," said Norah, quietly. 
 " It would certainly be ' a gross presump- 
 tion.' " 
 
 "Not by men like Max Tyudale, I am 
 sure." 
 
 " Hm I am not sure. Are you acquainted 
 with any man who carries his character on 
 his face for women to read ? Not that I se- 
 riously impugn the veracity of your mirror 
 of truth and honesty. It is a law of logic 
 that a crime presupposes a motive for the 
 crime, is it not ? Well, I am not an impor- 
 tant person, nor a particularly agreeable per- 
 son; therefore, it stands to reason that Cap- 
 tain Tyndale could have had no interested 
 motive in claiming my acquaintance." 
 
 " Yet I thought you allowed the claim 
 very coldly." 
 
 " Did I ? Set the fact down, then, to sur- 
 prise. I had not an idea that the man would 
 venture to say 'Yes' to your question." 
 
 " Was there any reason why he should not 
 have ventured to say it if he had really known 
 you ? " asked Leslie, looking keenly into the 
 beautiful, unruffled face. 
 
 "None at all," answered Miss Desmond, 
 indifferently. 
 
 They had been standing by an open win- 
 dow while they talked one of those which 
 overlooked the veranda and, as she uttered 
 those last words, Norah stepped through nnd 
 stood for a minute outside. 
 
 " I think I shall go in search of our Mario 
 of last night," she said, half turning to Les- 
 lie. "Don't come! Mr. Tyndale will be in 
 before long, and you look so lovely where 
 you are! You may send tlie cousin the 
 old acquaintance of mine after me, if you 
 choose. Of course, we shall naturally have 
 a great deal to say to each other."
 
 MAX TYNDALE'S EXPLANATION. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " The weakest woman is pitiless to weakness in 
 a man, and the gentlest of a gentle sex has no miti- 
 gation of scorn for the man that has betrayed the 
 gentlest quality of her nature implicit trust. 
 
 "There is DO pardon for desecrated ideals." 
 
 THE soft summer twilight was exquisitely 
 mingled with the faint lustre of a new moon 
 a pretty, baby crescent hanging in the still, 
 tinted sky when Norah strolled across the 
 lawn toward the rose-hedge, where the mock- 
 ing-bird had piped so sweet a lay the evening 
 before. But mocking-birds can be fickle as 
 well as men. From the leafy depths came no 
 delicious trill or full-throated note to-night. 
 Save for a few irrepressible katydids, all was 
 stillness and silence in this part of the 
 grounds. The fresh fragrance of grass and 
 flowers, the great oaks, with their brown 
 trunks and mighty depths of shade, the state- 
 ly magnolias, and tropical shrubs, all seemed 
 full of that supreme magic of repose which 
 dwells in midsummer gloaming. Athwart the 
 grass, and against the hedges, fire-flies were 
 beginning to gleam in their fitful way; but 
 other sign of life there was none. Perhaps 
 the dewy freshness, the perfect quiet, the 
 shadowy loveliness of the scene, served Miss 
 Desmond's purpose as well as the mocking- 
 bird could have done. At all events, she did 
 not retrace her steps toward the house; but, 
 finding a convenient garden-chair, she sat 
 down, looking like a fair dream-lady, outlined 
 by the dark shrubbery behind. 
 
 In this place and attitude Max Tyndale 
 found her when he crossed the lawn and en- 
 tered the shrubbery ten minutes later, having 
 been sent by Miss Grahame in search of the 
 wanderer, somewhat to his own discomfiture, 
 and greatly to Carl's disgust. " How well 
 she has arranged herself for effect ! " was his 
 first thought. " What an actress she is ! " 
 Then, pausing, he lifted his hat. 
 
 " I have the honor to obey your summons, 
 Miss Desmond," he said, coldly. 
 
 " You are very kind," answered Miss Des- 
 mond, more coldly still. She did not rise, 
 but only looked at him, with a certain proud 
 steadfastness, as he stood before her, erect 
 and tall, in the soft dusk. "You are very 
 kind," she repeated, after a second's pause ; 
 " but I am sure you are aware that I should 
 not have troubled you with any ' summons ' 
 if I had not desired to learn what end your 
 
 cousin or yourself hope to serve by the ac- 
 quaintance which you did me the honor to 
 claim at dinner? " 
 
 The challenge came more quickly and 
 more peremptorily than he had expected. 
 Despite his large fund of imperturbable cool- 
 ness, Max felt the blood rushing warmly to 
 his face. After all, it u<as an awkward posi- 
 tion ; and, Bohemian though she might be, 
 the girl looked just then like an archduchess. 
 Somewhat to his own surprise, he found him- 
 self a little confused in his reply. 
 
 " If you will allow me to explain," he said, 
 " I do not think that you will find that Ar 
 that any one beside myself is accountable for 
 the act of presumption of which I acknowl- 
 edge that I was guilty at dinner." 
 
 " I have found that men are rarely guilty, 
 even of an act of presumption, without some 
 motive for it," said she, haughtily. "Yours 
 is not difficult to find. Your cousin was in an 
 awkward position, and you were kind enough 
 to rescue him at the slight expense of truth. 
 I am not so dull but that I can read clearly 
 enough that far. What puzzles me is to im- 
 agine what good end he proposes to serve by 
 such a stratagem. Does he think that, if I 
 choose to open my lips, he will be likely to 
 gain any thing by the desperate policy of de- 
 nying that he ever knew me ? If so, he must 
 be prepared to deny also the evidence of his 
 own letters. Or perhaps you, sir, will affirm 
 that you were also the Tyndale who wrote 
 those ? " 
 
 "I shall certainly not affirm any thing 
 which is untrue, mademoiselle," answered 
 Max. " And you must pardon me if I repeat 
 that you are entirely wrong in supposing that 
 I claimed your acquaintance falsely, in order 
 to serve any interest that my cousin may 
 have." 
 
 " With or without an interest, the fact re- 
 mains that you spoke falsely! " said she, im- 
 periously. "You cannot deny it." 
 
 " Pardon me again ; but I must have ex- 
 pressed myself very badly, or you must have 
 understood me very ill, if you have not yet 
 comprehended that I do deny it most emphat- 
 ically." 
 
 "You deny it- to me!" Great as was 
 her natural fluency and command of language, 
 her power of expression seemed for a moment 
 to go no further than that. " You are pla)-- 
 ing a bolder game than I thought, monsieur," 
 she said, then, contemptuously. " You will
 
 58 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 tell me, next, that we are indeed old acquaint- 
 ances that I have danced with you at 
 Baden, and flirted at Homburg. Grdce d 
 Dieu! I should have remembered that de- 
 nial is, after all, only a matter of words ; and 
 how little words count with any of your sex, 
 I learned long ago." 
 
 "Mademoiselle," said Max, who began to 
 feel as if it were within the range of possible 
 events that he might lose his temper, " I re- 
 peat, again, that you are charging me with 
 falsehood in the most causeless and unpro- 
 voked manner. I have no connection what- 
 ever with my cousin's affairs ; and, in saying 
 at dinner that I had seen you abroad, I said 
 nothing more than was strictly true." 
 
 "In that case, " said she, throwing back 
 her head with an air of defiance, " you can 
 certainly tell when and where you met me, 
 and how it is that such a fact should have es- 
 caped my memory altogether." 
 
 " It is not remarkable that your memory 
 should not bear testimony to a fact which 
 never had a place in it," he said, coolly. " If 
 you will do me the justice to remember, I did 
 not venture to say at dinner that I had known 
 you abroad, but simply that I had seen you. 
 This was perfectly true. I saw you, two years 
 ago, at the opera, in Paris." 
 
 Even through the twilight momently 
 growing deeper he caught the scornful and 
 incredulous curl of her lip. 
 
 "I congratulate you on your inventive 
 powers, monsieur," she said. "Such a very 
 definite place and date certainly put your as- 
 sertion beyond all dispute." 
 
 " You may believe me or not, as you 
 choose," answered he, beginning to grow a 
 little haughty in turn ; " but I speak on my 
 honor as a gentleman when I say that I re- 
 membered your face the moment I saw it in 
 the drawing-room before dinner. Up to that 
 time, I had not entertained the faintest idea 
 that I had ever seen you ; but the instant the 
 sun sank you remember how it dazzled our 
 eyes? I said to myself: 'Here is the face I 
 saw at the opera, in Paris, two years ago ! ' " 
 
 " What lucky coincidences there are in 
 this world ! " said she, dryly. " How fortu- 
 nate that you should have made this discov- 
 ery just when it would benefit your cousin so 
 much ! " . 
 
 " I see that you doubt me still," he said. 
 "As far as I am concerned, that is not a 
 matter of any importance ; but, for Arthur's 
 
 sake, I should like you to believe that I am 
 speaking the truth. It is not likely that you 
 remember one special night in June t two 
 years ago ; but I do partly because of other 
 events, partly because one does not often sec 
 such a face as yours. I remember the peo- 
 ple who were with you, and, if necessary, I 
 could tell even the color of the dress you 
 wore." 
 
 She looked at him quickly and keenly ; 
 baffled, however, by the growing obscurity 
 which veiled his face as it veiled the trees 
 and shrubs and distant uplands. 
 
 " If this is true," she said, at last, " I beg 
 your pardon. Instead of accusing you of 
 falsehood, it seems that I should only have 
 accused you of equivocation, which is as 
 bad ! " 
 
 " To that charge I must plead guilty," 
 answered he. " But two things tempted me : 
 one was to assist Arthur ; the other (if you 
 will pardon me), to mystify you." 
 
 " Mystify me, you did not," said she, cold- 
 ly. " You only made me believe that you 
 were assisting your cousin at the expense of 
 your own honor if, indeed, a man ever counts 
 his honor forfeited by a lie." 
 
 " I am afraid your experience among men 
 has been very unfortunate." 
 
 " It has been very extensive, at least." 
 
 " There are many classes of men, how- 
 ever." 
 
 " I have known many of all classes your 
 cousin among the rest." 
 
 " Will you give me leave to inquire," said 
 he, abruptly, " how it is that you take it so 
 entirely for granted that I am aware of Ar- 
 thur's connection wilh yourself? " 
 
 She laughed slightly the faint cadence, 
 though with little of mirth in it, ringing out 
 sweetly enough on the still, evening air. 
 
 " I learned to read faces early," she an- 
 swered. "It cost me no effort to read in 
 your face, the moment your eyes fell on me: 
 ' So this is the Bohemian girl over whom Ar- 
 thur once made a fool of himself ! * " 
 
 " I must endeavor to keep my face in bet- 
 ter order," said he, smiling a little. " You 
 are right, however. I have heard Arthur's 
 story, and, without seeking to excuse his 
 fault, I should like to ask whether the wom- 
 an whom he once loved can find no leniency 
 for him in her heart ? " 
 
 ".Has he requested you to ask such a 
 question ? " demanded she. " If so, you may
 
 A HOPELESS MISSION. 
 
 59 
 
 tell him that, in a woman's eyes I speak of 
 women who are not spaniels nothing can ex- 
 cuse falsity and cowardice." 
 
 " You speak strongly, mademoiselle." 
 
 " I might speak more strongly if I added 
 slander to falsity and cowardice." 
 
 " In doing so I am sure that you would 
 wrong him deeply." 
 
 " Are you ? Be good enough to tell me, 
 then, in what manner and what character he 
 has spoken of me to you." 
 
 " As a woman to whom he was once deep- 
 ly attached," answered Max, thankful for this 
 loop-hole of evasion, and full of devout hope 
 that she might not press her awkward ques- 
 tion any further. But, in indulging such a 
 hope, he certainly did not know any thing of 
 Norah Desmond. 
 
 " You spoke a moment ago of your honor 
 as a gentleman," said she. " If you really 
 possess any thing so foreign to my experi- 
 ence of the Tyndale name, I beg that you will 
 tell me whether or not your cousin has spoken 
 of me as a woman worthy of faith and re- 
 spect, or as a fast flirt, with whom men only 
 amuse themselves ? " 
 
 " Miss Desmond, is it fair " 
 
 " To make you testify against the man 
 you call your friend ? " interrupted she. " Per- 
 haps not. I will spare you an answer, there- 
 fore, especially since your hesitation suffi- 
 ciently answers me. And yet, you wonder 
 that I have no inclination to spare such a 
 man ! " she added, with a ring of vibrating 
 contempt in her voice. " You wonder that I 
 the woman he once professed to love, the 
 woman to whom he was solemnly engaged, 
 the woman whom he not only deserted and 
 betrayed, but whom he has slandered and 
 defamed should think him a coward and a 
 dastard ! " 
 
 " Still, if you could appreciate his anxiety 
 if you could know how much he desires 
 some assurance of what you mean to do " 
 
 " That assurance he will not obtain, either 
 in his own person or through his agents," 
 said she, decidedly. " Let him understand 
 this once for all." 
 
 " He has empowered me to say for him 
 that he is willing to make any concession, 
 any arrangement " 
 
 " Spare your diplomacy, Captain Tyndale," 
 she interrupted, more coldly and haughtily 
 than ever. " What possible concession does 
 Arthur Tyndale imagine that I require at his 
 
 hands ? In my own time, I will name my 
 own terms, and, whatever they are, you may 
 be sure that he will accede to them." 
 
 The tone of confident power which filled 
 the last words, and the glance which accom- 
 panied them, told Max, more plainly than 
 many assurances could have done, the hope- 
 lessness of his mission. 
 
 " I see, indeed, that I waste time and ef- 
 fort," said he. " But I had hoped that, for 
 your sister's sake, at least " 
 
 " For my sister's sake I should certainly 
 be inclined to sacrifice a great deal," said 
 she, quietly, as he paused. " We have known 
 each other so long and so well, have been 
 so closely associated together and grown 
 in sisterly affection as we grew in years, 
 that you are right to calculate upon such a 
 bond. Your cousin, too, may safely shelter 
 himself behind it." 
 
 Now, it must not be supposed that there 
 was any vulgar banter in this speech. Save 
 for the faintest possible accent of mockery 
 an accent so natural to her that her voice 
 was scarcely ever free from it Max might 
 have supposed that she was speaking in per- 
 fect seriousness and good faith. As it was, 
 he felt a little puzzled how to answer her, 
 and his thoughts left Arthur and Leslie for a 
 moment to consider how thoroughly disa- 
 greeable this woman was. He made a men- 
 tal comparison of her changing moods, her 
 passion, her mockery, her cynicism, with 
 Miss Grahame's graceful and gracious sweet- 
 ness. 
 
 " Good Heavens, to think that such wom- 
 en should be even Aa?/-sisters !" he thought. 
 Just then he felt more inclined to excuse 
 Arthur than he had ever felt before. 
 
 Miss Desmond, with a quickness of per- 
 ception which often startled people into a 
 belief that she had some dealing with the 
 black art, answered these thoughts as if he 
 had spoken them aloud. 
 
 " You feel more inclined to pity than to 
 blame your cousin just now, do you not ? " 
 she said. " You think that such a woman as 
 I am is hardly worth keeping faith with, after 
 all." 
 
 "Have I hinted such a thing for a mo- 
 ment, Miss Desmond ? " asked he, quite indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 " You have not hinted it, but you have 
 thought it." 
 
 " Pardon me, I have done nothing of the
 
 60 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 kind. On the contrary, I think there is no 
 justification whatever for Arthur's conduct." 
 
 "And yet you make yourself his agent 
 and adyocate ! " 
 
 " Not exactly the first, nor at all the last," 
 answered he. " It is simply as his friend 
 that I have endeavored though very un- 
 availingly to serve his cause." 
 
 " It is a poor cause, and scarcely worth 
 being served," said she. " As for your fail- 
 ure, it would be strange if you had not failed. 
 Your cousin has every thing to fear from me, 
 while I have absolutely nothing to fear from 
 him." 
 
 " I begin to appreciate that," said Max, 
 a little grimly. 
 
 "I have nothing to gain from him, and 
 nothing to lose by him," she repeated, after 
 a minute. " Therefore he who professes to 
 know the world so well can judge whether 
 or not he is wise in appealing to me." 
 
 " But it is impossible that you can refuse 
 absolutely to give him a clew to your inten- 
 tions in a matter that concerns him so vital- 
 ly '."said Max, beginning to perceive that this 
 woman was indeed a very cool and subtle 
 adversary. 
 
 " I refuse absolutely," she answered. 
 " It seems that I must repeat this very often. 
 Are you so accustomed to finding women like 
 wax in your hands, that you cannot under- 
 stand a woman's resolution when you meet 
 it?" 
 
 " I beg your pardon," replied he, hastily. 
 "I should not have forced you to repeat what 
 you have already said." 
 
 " And now I believe that we have finished 
 all that we have to say," she went on, rising 
 and gathering up her light dress from the 
 dewy grass. " In going back to the drawing- 
 room, you must not forget that you have the 
 part of an ' old acquaintance ' to play. It is 
 one of the disadvantages of equivocation that 
 it generally places you in a false position even 
 when you have adhered to the rigid letter of 
 the truth." 
 
 But they found, when they emerged from 
 the shrubbery, that it was not necessary to 
 return to the drawing-room. Even across 
 the lawn, it was evident that the rest of 
 the party were assembled on the veranda, 
 whence their light tones and laughter floated 
 out on the still night-air. As the two ab- 
 sentees approached, they heard Carl hum- 
 ming one of Miss Desmond's songs, from 
 
 which he managed to extract all the melody, 
 while Leslie's voice said : 
 
 " Norah and Captain Tyndale must have 
 discovered that they possess a great many 
 reminiscences in common to tempt them to 
 extend their walk so far and their talk so 
 long. I am selfish enough to wish they 
 would come back ; I want Arthur to hear No- 
 rah sing." 
 
 " Here I am, Leslie ! " said Norah, ad- 
 vancing out of the shadowy darkness, " but 
 I am afraid you must excuse me from singing 
 to-night. I am like our friend the mocking- 
 bird out of sorts and out of voice, though not, 
 like him,- absent in body as well as in mind." 
 
 " Was he absent ? Did you not find him, 
 after all ? I am sorry." 
 
 " So was I really disgusted ! But, like 
 most great singers, he is capricious, and Mr. 
 Middleton offended him by talking, all through 
 his most beautiful song last night." 
 
 " I object to being held accountable for 
 the caprices of the mocking-bird," said Carl's 
 voice from out the demi-obscure in which it 
 was scarcely possible to tell who was who. 
 "But there are half a hundred singing in the 
 copse at; the back of the house, Miss Des- 
 mond, if you care to hear them." 
 
 " One in the rose-hedge would have been 
 better," said Norah. " It is a very disagree- 
 able trait in human nature that we do not 
 care for any thing which we can have in 
 abundance and with little trouble." 
 
 " I never knew a woman who contradicted 
 herself as often as you do," said Carl. " Be- 
 fore dinner you told me you cared for noth- 
 ing which cost trouble ! " 
 
 " Ah, but that was my trouble ! " said 
 she, laughing. 
 
 " And the trouble which is necessary as a 
 zest is somebody else's, I suppose ? " 
 
 " He that runs might read that much, I 
 should think," said his uncle. " Miss Des- 
 mond's taste is like that of the rest of her 
 sex, but her frankness is her own." 
 
 " You are quite right, sir, my frankness 
 is my own," said she. " It is one thing to 
 which I can lay fair claim." 
 
 " You must allow the rest of us to think 
 that there arc other things to which you can 
 lay quite us fair claim," said Mr. Middleton, 
 who occasionally made puns of such a brill- 
 iant nature that nobody but himself was 
 aware of them until they were elaborately ex- 
 plained.
 
 NOKAH ON HER BEST BEHAVIOR. 
 
 61 
 
 " If you really want to flatter me," said 
 she, " say that there is something Irish in my 
 tongue. There is nothing of which I am half 
 so proud of as belonging to the most ready- 
 witted people on the face of the earth." 
 
 " We'll say any thing you please, if you'll 
 only go and sing for us," said Leslie. 
 
 " I suppose I must be more obliging than 
 the mocking - bird," said she, with a sigh. 
 " But I shall sing execrably, I give you warn- 
 ing of that. I always do, when I don't feel 
 like it." 
 
 " Your worst must be better than many 
 other people's best, I am sure." 
 
 " After such flattery as that, how can I 
 refuse ? " said she, turning to Max. " Stay 
 where you all are, then, and I will go and 
 sing for you." 
 
 She moved across the veranda as she 
 spoke, and entered the drawing-room ; but 
 one member of the group did not obey her 
 last injunction. When she reached the piano, 
 she found Carl Middleton at her side. 
 
 " Did you not hear me tell you to stay 
 outside ? " she asked, impatiently. " What 
 do you mean by following me like this ? Don't 
 you know that it is the thing of all others 
 which I most detest ? " 
 
 " I can never enjoy music unless I see the 
 singer," said he, coolly. " Besides, can't you 
 give me credit for a little curiosity ? I am 
 anxious to hear how that fellow out yonder 
 managed to defend his audacious assertion at 
 dinner." 
 
 " Is it so incredible that a man who has 
 lived in France all his life should have seen 
 me, who have lived there the greater part of 
 mine ? " she asked, indifferently. 
 
 " Not incredible, nor even remarkable as 
 an abstract fact. As a particular fact, how- 
 ever, I would be willing to wager my next 
 good horse that it is a pure invention of his 
 own impudence and his cousin's necessity." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said she, lightly running 
 her hand over the keys, " but there are some 
 things which it is less trouble and better pol- 
 icy to believe than to disbelieve. This is one 
 of them." 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 " For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, 
 Our fancies are more giddy and infirm, 
 More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, 
 Than women's are." 
 
 AMONG all the pleasant rooms at Rosland, 
 the dining-room in the morning was perhaps 
 the pleasantest. On one side the windows 
 opened down to the green turf, on the other 
 upon a vine-latticed alcove half piazza, half 
 room which, being delightfully cool, served 
 as an after-dinner smoking-room to Mr. Mid- 
 dleton and his masculine guests. 
 
 " What a pleasant place ! " Norah said, 
 strolling into it on the morning after the Tyn- 
 dales had dined at Rosland. She had come 
 down rather early, and, entering the break- 
 fast - room, found only Carl in occupation. 
 " How charmingly airy, and what a fragrant 
 odor of good tobacco seems to pervade every 
 thing ! Do you know," she added, laughing, 
 that, although I would not for any considera- 
 tion betray the fact to our friends here, I am 
 very fond of a cigarette, and I should like 
 nothing better than to take one after dinner 
 in this pretty nook." 
 
 " Why not do it, then ? " asked he. " You 
 cannot really think that my aunt or Leslie 
 would be so narrow-minded or so ill-bred as 
 to object ? " 
 
 " Object ! Oh no, they would not dream 
 of doing that ; but they would give me over 
 to utter reprobation as fast, as Bohemian, 
 and every thing else that good society con- 
 demns. Now, you may not think so, perhaps, 
 but I am on my best behavior at present, and 
 I don't want to shock them more than I can 
 help. This is my first introduction into re- 
 spectable life, and I must try and learn to be 
 as much like respectable people as I can." 
 
 " You'll never succeed. There's the stamp 
 of another life and another rearing on you." 
 
 " That is encouraging, at any rate. But 
 you have yet to learn that I generally succeed 
 in whatever I undertake." 
 
 " I wish you would undertake to like me, 
 then," said he, with a tone of only half jest 
 in his voice. 
 
 " That would be quite unnecessary, since I 
 like you already," answered she. "I informed 
 you of that fact yesterday, and you may be 
 sure that I should not have done so if it had 
 not been true. Polite fiction is a branch of
 
 62 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 social accomplishment which I have never 
 cultivated. Have you looked at the morning 
 papers. What is the news from France ? " 
 
 She turned carelessly back into the break- 
 fast-room as she spoke, and, walking to a 
 side-table, began turning over the mail that 
 lay there. Provoked by her nonchalance, 
 Carl remained where he was, and in this so- 
 ciable attitude Leslie found them when she 
 entered a few minutes later. It was one of 
 the little things which sometimes occur, as if 
 with strange perversity, to justify an erro- 
 neous opinion. " I think you are wrong about 
 Carl," Miss Grahame had said the evening 
 before to her aunt. " I do not believe he is 
 in love with Norah. He admires her, of 
 course ; but I am sure he has not an idea of 
 any thing more." It must be said that con- 
 science pricked Leslie a little as she made 
 these comforting remarks ; but, as she came 
 in now, she thought how right she had been. 
 No man in love could have resisted such an 
 opportunity for a tete-d-tele, she felt sure ; 
 therefore it followed, with a logic irresistible 
 to the feminine mind, that Carl was not in love. 
 
 " How early you are ! " she said to Norah. 
 " Are you looking to see if you have any let- 
 ters ? It is too soon yet, is it not ? " 
 
 " To hear from Kate, do you mean ? Yes ; 
 she would scarcely have written immediately 
 after I left, especially since she started at the 
 same time for Ireland with papa. But there 
 is an attraction in turning over letters, even 
 when they are not for ourselves ; and here 
 are a great many." 
 
 " Let us see whom they are for," said Les- 
 lie. She took and began sorting them. " Half 
 a dozen for uncle, three for Aunt Mildred, and 
 more than it will be pleasant to answer for 
 myself. Carl, there are none for you." 
 
 " I have mine already thanks," said 
 Carl, emerging from the alcove. 
 
 " But here is one which may interest you. 
 It is from Mrs. Sandford, I think." 
 
 She opened a pale-gray envelope, stamped 
 with monogram and crest, and inclosing a 
 sheet of paper filled with writing 
 
 "... as when a field of corn 
 Bows all its ears before the roaring cast" 
 
 as fashionable, illegible, and full of long tails, 
 as such caligraphy usually is. 
 
 " Yes, it is from Mrs. Sandford," she add- 
 ed, after a minute. " She says she will be 
 here to-day. Think of that, Carl ! " 
 
 " I am thinking of it as hard as possible," 
 said he ; " but I don't know whether I am 
 expected to be overpowered with ecstasy or 
 with disgust." 
 
 " You will not ask when you are in full 
 tide of flirtation to-morrow." 
 
 " I have sworn off from flirtation," he an- 
 swered, walking to the window. " Champagne 
 is a very good thing for holidays, but it is not 
 wholesome when taken as the staple of a 
 man's life." 
 
 " What is not wholesome when taken as 
 the staple of a man's life ? " asked Mr. Mid- 
 dleton, coming in just then, with his feet ar- 
 rayed in the gorgeously-worked slippers which 
 were always such a conspicuous feature of 
 his morning toilet. 
 
 " Champagne," answered Leslie. " Did 
 you know that it was not good when taken 
 in any way ? But Carl, having become philo- 
 sophical, has begun to talk in metaphors and 
 illustrations, like a sage." 
 
 " I am afraid you are cultivating satire, 
 Leslie," said Carl, strolling back to the table. 
 "Take my advice, and don't even in its 
 mildest form it makes a woman so exceeding- 
 ly disagreeable ! " 
 
 "And how does it make a man ? " 
 
 " It is not pleasant in any case, but pleasant 
 things, as a rule, are not expected from a man." 
 
 "Are they not? This is the first time I 
 ever heard that freedom to be unpleasant is 
 one of the many monopolies which your sex 
 are kind enough to claim." 
 
 " There's nothing like living and learn- 
 ing," said he, sitting down. " Now, pray, 
 leave your correspondence for the present, 
 and give me a cup of coffee, like a good girl. 
 I have eaten a dozen apricots and three pears 
 already; but one needs something a little 
 more substantial, even in July." 
 
 Since Mrs. Middleton seldom appeared at 
 breakfast, Leslie took the seat of honor (and 
 trouble) at the head of the table ; and her 
 pretty, deft hands were soon busy among the 
 cups and saucers. It was an anomalous but 
 attractive-looking breakfast over which she 
 presided. Besides the standard dishes the 
 crisply-broiled " spring-chickens," the flaky 
 rolls and waffles which are the pride of every 
 Southern cook there were fruit-stands heaped 
 with peaches, apricots, pears, and plums, beau- 
 tiful enough in color and variety to have 
 tempted any artist alive to make a study of 
 them.
 
 AT BREAKFAST. 
 
 63 
 
 " I am not sure that in midsummer one 
 needs any thing more substantial than this," 
 eaid Norah, holding up a peach with cheeks 
 as glowing as her own. " You remember the 
 old proverb which says that ' fruit is golden 
 in the morning, silver at noon, and lead at 
 night ? ' " 
 
 " Whatever it may be," said Mr. Middle- 
 ton, " I cannot say that I like it at breakfast. 
 Of course, there is no accounting for particu- 
 lar tastes ; but give me a beefsteak and a cup 
 of coffee, all the year round." 
 
 " Give it to me also, if a positive choice 
 must bs made," said Norah. "I have nothing 
 whatever ethereal about me appetite least 
 of all." 
 
 In this way they were taking their break- 
 fast leisurely, and talking lightly, as people 
 do who have nothing in particular before 
 them all day, when a man's figure suddenly 
 appeared on the turf outside the window, and 
 a familiar voice said : 
 
 " May I come in ? " 
 
 It was Arthur Tyndale, who, being bidden 
 cordially to enter, came in and took the empty 
 seat by Leslie's tray. 
 
 "I thought I would walk over before it 
 became so very warm," he said, by way of 
 explanation. " Will you take me on your 
 hands for the day ? It is really insufferably 
 dull over there at Strafford. I thought yes- 
 terday that I would not attempt to pull 
 through another long warm day with no bet- 
 ter amusement than a novel and Max." 
 
 " I was under the impression that men 
 were never bored by each other's society," 
 said Leslie, with that light, rippling laugh 
 which is so significant of happiness on a 
 woman's lips. "Norah and I, now, might be 
 supposed to find each other dull; but Captain 
 Tyndale and yourself the idea never occurred 
 to me for a moment ! " 
 
 " It occurred to us, however, very strong- 
 ly at least, it occurred to me." 
 
 " Why did you not bring Captain Tyndale 
 over with you ? " asked Mr. Middleton, hos- 
 pitably. 
 
 " Simply because the unsociable rascal 
 would not come. He intends to spend the 
 day lying in the shade on the verge of the 
 lake, and fancying that he is fishing." 
 
 " There are worse occupations for such a 
 day as this," said Carl " that is, unless the 
 fish are too much demoralized by the heat to 
 bite. I have half a mind to go out for the 
 
 same amusement myself. What do you say, 
 Miss Desmond" (turning quickly), "will you 
 come, also ? " 
 
 " If you will guarantee that it shall be 
 cool and pleasant all the time, that we shall 
 catch as many fish as we desire, and that I 
 shall be neither sunburnt nor freckled." 
 
 " Let us all go ! " said Tyndale, eagerly. 
 "If we drive over to the lake, where Max is, 
 we shall find it very cool and pleasant ; Straf- 
 ford is near at hand for luncheon, and we can 
 come back in the cool of the evening to dinner." 
 
 " There is only one objection," said Les- 
 lie. " Mrs. Sandford is coming to-day." 
 
 " Mrs. Sandford ! Is she coming to-day ? " 
 said Tyndale. An expression of deep disgust 
 fell over bis face. It was evident at a glance 
 that this was any thing but a pleasant item 
 of news to him. 
 
 "Mr. Tyndale seems inclined to furnish 
 you with the ecstasies which I was unable to 
 afford, Leslie," said Carl. 
 
 " Mrs. Sandford is no favorite of mine," 
 answered Tyndale ; " I confess I am not glad 
 to hear that she is coming." 
 
 "It cannot be helped now, however," said 
 Leslie, "and so don't you think the fishing 
 might be a good plan for to-morrow? I 
 should like Norah to see Strafford and its 
 grounds." 
 
 " Yes, let us go to-inorrow, by all means," 
 said Carl. 
 
 And, since Norah did not say any thing, 
 the matter seemed to be settled that they 
 were to go. 
 
 After breakfast that general aimlessness 
 and want of purpose which always charac- 
 terize a set of idle people in the country, 
 took full possession of this group. Somebody 
 threw out a suggestion about walking, which 
 somebody else negatived by saying it was too 
 warm ; Leslie talked of ordering the carriage 
 to pay a visit in the neighborhood, but was 
 readily dissuaded on the score of dust ; Carl, 
 being questioned as to why he did not carry 
 out his intention of going fishing, replied that 
 the house could not furnish any good tackle 
 and so they all sat on the lawn, under a 
 large tulip-tree, and did nothing, until the 
 sun invaded their retreat, and, Mr. Middle- 
 ton coming up just then, carried the two 
 young men off to the stable to look at a horse 
 he had bought, or was thinking of buying 
 nobody besides himself understood very clearly 
 which.
 
 64 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Then, as the two girls returned to the 
 house, Norah said : 
 
 " You must excuse me, dear, if I leave you 
 for the rest of the morning. I have all my 
 letters yet to write, and you know that epis- 
 tolary effort is not the easiest thing in the 
 world such weather as this." 
 
 " I am very sorry that you have to go," 
 said Leslie, in her cordial, sincere voice ; 
 " but, of course, letters cannot be put off, and 
 I hope you feel that you are at home that 
 you can do exactly as you please. Give my 
 dearest love to Kate, and tell her that if she 
 were here it would be the only thing which 
 could add to my happiness just now." 
 
 " You are certainly very kind ! " said No- 
 rah, with a quick thrill in her voice. " I'll 
 tell Kate with pleasure; and I'll tell her, 
 also, that you deserve all, and more than all, 
 of the happiness of which you speak." 
 
 So it came to pass that when the two gen- 
 tlemen returned from inspecting Mr. Middle- 
 ton's equine purchase, they found Leslie alone 
 in the hall. " Norah has gone to write let- 
 ters," she said; and Carl felt immediately 
 that human endurance of heat, ennui, and 
 gossip, had reached its utmost limit. The 
 withdrawal of the sun behind a cloud typifies 
 but poorly the blank cheerlessness which No- 
 r.ah's withdrawal brought over his world. 
 " I've got a letter or two to write myself," 
 he said, and so went off not to the library, 
 or to his own chamber, but to the little 
 smoking-den by the dining-room, where his 
 letter-writing consisted in lying on a lounge 
 and consuming many more cigars than were 
 good for him. He entertained no doubt, how- 
 ever, but that his epistolary labors were quite 
 as genuine as Miss Desmond's. The idea that 
 she had really gone to her room to write let- 
 ters never for a moment occurred to him. 
 She had gone to avoid Tyndale, he felt sure 
 so sure that if, indeed, " curses, like young 
 chicken?, always come home to r6ost," Carl 
 certainly provided himself with a liberal brood 
 that morning. "D n the fellow ! " he found 
 himself saying again and again, even while 
 trying to read two or three alternate newspa- 
 pers and a magazine. " How docs he dare to 
 thrust himself into her presence like this ? I 
 wish to Heaven she would let me teach him 
 better ? " That Mr. Tyndale had a right to 
 be at Rosland irrespective of Norah's pres- 
 ence there, or that Leslie might possess some 
 slight claim upon his consideration, never for 
 
 an instant occurred to this zealous champion. 
 Neither did it occur to him that he knew ex- 
 ceedingly little of Miss Desmond's "cause," 
 and that little only by inference. With re- 
 gard to this cause, there was justification 
 enough for all possible ardor in the one 
 grand, simple, and wholly satisfactory reason 
 that it was her own. 
 
 Meanwhile Arthur Tyndale began to dis- 
 cover that time might hang heavily at Ros- 
 land as well as at Strafford. Fond as he was 
 of Leslie, and charming and bright as she al- 
 ways made herself to him, he felt this morn- 
 ing a certain lack of zest in her society, a 
 certain vague want of the pungent flavor of 
 an excitement which he had specially come to 
 seek. It was so vague this sense of flatness 
 and tameness that he was scarcely more 
 than conscious of it, and yet he could not 
 banish it. "I believe you are bored, after 
 all," Leslie said to him, smiling, and, although 
 he quickly denied the assertion, he could not 
 so readily shake off the fact. Yet, in truth, 
 he was something more than merely " bored" 
 which is a passive state of suffering at least. 
 He was actively conscious of a subtile excite- 
 ment which made the shaded room, with its 
 perfect quiet and whiff of roses on the air, al- 
 most intolerable to him. Leslie herself, for 
 the first time in her life, jarred on his mood 
 through her very unconsciousness of it, 
 through her utter ignorance of the restless 
 craving which possessed him, and to which 
 he would have found it difficult to give a 
 name, being a man little addicted to self- 
 analysis. In fact, he was not a man who 
 ever troubled himself very much about his 
 motives, or who could have been said to own 
 a particularly high standard for any thing, 
 though it can fairly be added for him that he 
 was not in any sense a bad man. He was 
 only one of a large class whose impulses are 
 stronger than their principle?, whose courage 
 is not great in the moral order, and who are 
 in all respects born epicureans and seekers of 
 pleasure. Just now he was in a state of 
 transition, which puzzled and annoyed him 
 not a little. He felt that he was outraged 
 that he had good cause for being outraged 
 with Norah Desmond : she had defied, in- 
 sulted, scorned, and mocked him, until he 
 could almost have lifted his hand and struck 
 her down in the proud insolence of her beauty 
 yet she had so stung and roused him, that 
 he could not banish her from his thoughts
 
 A TROPICAL STORM. 
 
 65 
 
 let him do what be would. All other things 
 seemed tame after the supreme excitement 
 of her presence, the varying spell of her face, 
 the haunting music of her voice. Leslie, sit- 
 ting in the green shade of the Venetian blinds, 
 with the dainty needle-work of which she was 
 fond in her slender white hands, had little 
 idea of the feverish restlessness which filled 
 her companion. Yet, even to Leslie, it was 
 a relief when their tetc-d-tete was interrupted 
 by the entrance of Mr. Middleton with a ba- 
 rometer in his hand. 
 
 " Just as I thought ! " he said, with an air 
 of gratification. " We are going to have a 
 storm at last. I was sure this sultry heat 
 meant something of the kind." 
 
 " Are we going to have a storm ? " asked 
 Leslie. " If so, I hope it will clear both the 
 physical and moral atmosphere. Somehow I 
 think we are all more or less affected by the 
 weather this morning at least, I know we 
 are all more or less out of sorts." 
 
 " That might be caused by something be- 
 sides the weather," said her uncle ; " but I 
 am pretty sure we shall have a storm, and 
 the usual result of a storm is to clear t!ie 
 physical atmosphere, at least." 
 
 " I think the day is growing more sul- 
 try," she went on, after a minute, letting her 
 work drop and beginning to apply her fan. 
 " Arthur, will you open the blinds ? After 
 all, one must have air, even if one is obliged to 
 take heat with it." 
 
 The blinds being opened, it was found 
 that the vertical heat was untempered even 
 by the faintest breeze. The blazing noon 
 seemed beating with fierce power upon the 
 parclied earth which lay helpless under its 
 scorching glare. Sound there was none. 
 Through all the wide domain of Nature a 
 stillness reigned, compared to which mid- 
 night is vocal with noise. Not a leaf rustled, 
 not a single bird found courage to chirp ; only 
 a locust now and then lifted up its solitary 
 voice in the burning land. The sky above 
 was cloudless and intensely blue ; but along 
 the verge of the horizon, especially in the 
 southwest, white, fleecy clouds were lying 
 piled in great masses, which dazzled the eye 
 as it fell on them. 
 
 " If the rain is coming at all, the sooner 
 it comes the better," said Mr. Middleton, 
 walking to and fro, with the barometer in 
 one hand and a palm-leaf fan in the oth- 
 er. " This is unendurable or would be un- 
 
 endurable if there was any way to remedy 
 it!" 
 
 Way there was none, however, save to 
 wait for the storm, which really seemed at 
 last as if it meant to come ; for, while they 
 panted and gasped for air in the stillness of 
 the burning noon, the first distant rumble of 
 thunder smote suddenly like welcome music 
 on their ears. Then, by slow degrees, the 
 dazzling white cloud moved higher up the 
 sky, the rolling sounds grew more frequent, 
 though still very distant ; the leaves began 
 to rustle a little, as if in thirsty expectation, 
 though the sun still shone with the same 
 pitiless glare on the dusty ground and dried 
 up herbage. " It really seems impossible that 
 we shall have any rain ! " said Leslie, skepti- 
 cally ; and, considering how long it had been 
 since they had last seen a cloud, her skepti- 
 cism was excusable. This cloud, however, 
 plainly meant business. It gradually changed 
 from fleecy whiteness to a dark, blue-gray, 
 lurid mass, in the depths of which vivid 
 flashes of lightning leaped and played among 
 Alpine peaks and crags. As it marched 
 steadily up the sky, overspreading and taking 
 possession of the whole heavens, like an army 
 with banners, it was a sight'well worth wit- 
 nessing. When it finally reached and en- 
 shrouded the sun, the darkness which fell 
 over the land was like an eclipse. In the 
 house it was scarcely possible to see any 
 thing. The party, who were just then sitting 
 down to luncheon, looked at each other in 
 dismay. It is too much to expect of human 
 nature that it will eat by faith and not by 
 sight in summer weather. There was a mo- 
 ment's pause ; then, while Mr. Middleton, 
 with his eye-glass, was closely examining the 
 dish before him, preparatory to announcing 
 its name and nature to the company, Mrs. 
 Middleton ordered Robert to light the gas. 
 " The storm must be near at hand," she said. 
 
 When the gas was lighted, Leslie uttered 
 a slight exclamation. " Why, Norah is not 
 here ! " she said. " It was so dark that I 
 really did not notice her absence before." 
 
 " I suppose she did not hear the bell," 
 said Mrs. Middleton. " Robert, send up and 
 let Miss Desmond know that luncheon is 
 ready." 
 
 " Perhaps she is asle " 
 
 It was Miss Grahame who began this sen- 
 tence, but it was never finished. At that in- 
 stant a flash of lightning, like a solid sheet
 
 66 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 of flame, seemed to fill the room, paling into 
 insignificance the glow of the gas, and light- 
 ing up every thing with a lurid and terrible 
 glare impossible to describe. Following so 
 closely that it seemed almost simultaneous, a 
 volleying crash of thunder shook the bouse to 
 its very foundation. With this magnificent 
 though rather startling prelude, the storm 
 burst. Before the last mighty reverberation 
 had died away, the rush of pouring rain 
 sounded on the roof and down the dry water- 
 spouts. 
 
 " Are cur heads still on our shoulders ? " 
 asked Leslie, as soon as it was possible to 
 speak at all. " Did anybody ever see the 
 like of such a flash ? What a mercy that 
 none of us were killed ? " 
 
 " As soon as Robert comes back he must 
 close the shutters," said Mrs. Middleton, who 
 had laid down her knife and fork and turned 
 very pale. "It will not do to run such a 
 risk." 
 
 " What an uproar ! " said Carl, laying 
 down his knife and fork to listen. "By Jove ! 
 wouldn't you think there was a tremendous 
 artillery -duel going on in the celestial re- 
 gions ? " 
 
 " It is more like a pitched battle," said 
 Tyndale. " Listen ! You cannot only hear 
 the boom of heavy guns, but the rattling vol- 
 leys of musketry." 
 
 " I thought we should have a deluge when 
 it came," said Mr. Middleton, helping himself 
 complacently to cold mutton, and thinking 
 what a good thing it was for the corn, which 
 needed rain terribly. 
 
 In the midst of the din, which was truly 
 deafening, Robert came back, and said a few 
 words to his mistress, the effect of which was 
 to make that lady look very much astonished. 
 
 " Not in the house ! " she repeated. "Arc 
 you sure ? Why, where on earth can she be ? " 
 
 " Where can who be ? " asked Leslie, 
 quickly. " Not Norah you can't mean that 
 Norah is not in the house ? " 
 
 " So Robert says," answered Mrs. Middle- 
 ton, " though .1 scarcely think it can be pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " Me and Maria's looked everywhere fur 
 her, ma'am, but she can't be found," said 
 Robert, speaking to Miss Grahame ; " and 
 Ellen says she saw her going toward the 
 woods 'bout an hour ago, with a book under 
 her arm." 
 
 "Toward the woods!" two or three 
 
 simultaneous voices made this exclamation. 
 " Good Heavens ! " " You must be mista- 
 ken ! " " It can't be possible ! " 
 
 " Miss Desmond is not crazy, is she ? " 
 said Mr. Middleton, when these disjointed ex- 
 clamations were for the moment exhausted. 
 " If not, it stands to reason that she could 
 not have done any thing so foolish as to go 
 to the woods in the burning heat of an hour 
 ago, with a storm plainly coming up." 
 
 " But where is she, then ? " asked Leslie. 
 " She must be somewhere, you know. Carl, 
 what are you going to do ? " 
 
 " I am going after her," said Carl, rising, 
 and pushing back his chair with a quick jerk 
 " if you are sure she is not in the house, 
 Robert." 
 
 " I am perfectly sure, sir," answered Rob- 
 ert. " Me and Maria looked everywhere." 
 
 " You need not trouble yourself, Mr. Mid- 
 dleton," said Tyndale, also rising abruptly ; 
 "7am going in search of Miss Desmond." 
 
 " Are you ? " said Carl, haughtily. Their 
 glances met and . crossed like two swords. 
 " But, if you will pardon me, I think I had 
 better take that liberty, since I am an old 
 acquaintance of Miss Desmond's, and you are 
 not." 
 
 He turned and was leaving the room, when 
 Mr. Middleton interfered. 
 
 " Don't be a fool, Carl ! " he said, irrita- 
 bly. " What is the sense of talking about 
 going out in such a hurricane as this, espe- 
 cially since you have not the faintest idea 
 where Miss Desmond is ? " 
 
 " You don't expect me to sit still with the 
 consciousness that she is out in the hurricane, 
 do you, fir ? " answered Carl. " Leslie, will 
 you send somebody to get me a water-proof 
 and a shawl or two? Robert, tell Ellen I 
 want to speak to her in the hall." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Some ladies love the jewels in Love's zone, 
 And gold-tipped darts he hath for painless play 
 In idle, scornful hours he flings away ; 
 And some that listen to his lute's soft tone 
 Do love to deem the silver praise their own ; 
 Some prize his blindfold sight ; and there be 
 
 they 
 
 Who kissed his wings which brought him yes- 
 terday, 
 And thank his wings to-day that he is flown." 
 
 WHEN Miss Desmond went to her own 
 room, and began writing her letters of which,
 
 NORAH'S LETTER TO KATE. 
 
 67 
 
 notwithstanding Carl's incredulity, she had a 
 goodly number on hand she naturally found 
 that it was very warm work. There are warmer 
 things, perhaps making hay may be one of 
 them but certainly it is a sufficiently warm 
 thing to sit down in the exhausting heat of a 
 July day to write two or three letters to that 
 class of people who expect to hear " every 
 thing about every thing" in detail. Now, 
 ready as Norah was with her tongue, she was 
 not particularly ready with her pen, and she 
 found that her ideas and energy were forsak- 
 ing her in the most disheartening manner. 
 
 " It is the intolerable heat," she said, at 
 last, throwing down her pen after an hour's 
 fruitless labor. " Horace Walpole himself 
 could not have written any thing more than a 
 string of commonplaces under such circum- 
 stances. If I could only get out in to the open 
 air ! It never is as warm in the open air as 
 it is in-doors, let people say what they will." 
 
 Fired with this desire, she rose, drew back 
 her blind, and, finding the coast apparently 
 clear on the side of the house next the shrub- 
 bery, proceeded to tie on a garden-hat, to take 
 a portfolio under her arm, and to cautiously 
 sally forth down the back staircase. 
 
 Fortunately, or unfortunately, as the case 
 might have been esteemed, Carl was taking a 
 short nap over his novel just then, and so he 
 missed the light footstep which crossed the 
 dining-room, and the light flutter of a dress 
 which passed through one of the open win- 
 dows to the lawn. Rejoicing in her escape, 
 Miss Desmond ttnfurled her parasol, and took 
 a short cut across the sunlit turf to the green 
 depths of the shrubbery beyond. 
 
 " There are at least a dozen pleasant places 
 there where I can sit and scribble without 
 being suffocated," she thought. "Have I 
 really any gypsy blood, I wonder ? No Zin- 
 gali ever hated the confinement of four walls 
 worse than I do ! " 
 
 But even in the shrubbery she discovered 
 that, at high noon, pleasant places, which 
 should be also shady places, were hard to find. 
 The shadows of the largest trees seemed in- 
 finitesinaally small, and proved wholly unsat- 
 isfactory. Strolling on from point to point, 
 she scarcely knew where she was going until 
 she found herself in the neighborhood of the 
 summer-house where her interview with Ar- 
 thur Tyndale had taken place the day before. 
 
 It seemed so full of the recollection of 
 this scene that she turned away impatiently 
 
 for a moment. But then as if remembering 
 herself she turned back again and took her 
 way toward it with an air of resolution. 
 
 " This will not do ! " she said, half aloud ; 
 " I cannot afford to indulge myself in matters 
 of sentiment, even in little things ; it is a bad 
 precedent. One must do whatever is the best 
 thing to do; and just now it is the best thing 
 to find shelter from the sun." 
 
 The door of the summer-house was stand- 
 ing open, as it had been the day before ; the 
 chairs were sitting exactly as they had been 
 left ; and on the small table in the centre of 
 the floor was a faded rose which Norah re- 
 membered to have laid there when she at- 
 tempted to follow Leslie. 
 
 " Was it only yesterday ?" she thought, 
 taking up the flower and looking at it. " Some- 
 how it seems to me a much longer time ! " 
 
 Then she laid her portfolio on the table, 
 opened both casements to secure as much of 
 a thorough draught as possible, and, taking a 
 fresh sheet of paper, resumed the letter on 
 which she had last been engaged. 
 
 " You would scarcely credit, Kate," she 
 wrote, " for I scarcely credit it myself until I 
 had fairly tested it, how entirely my old love 
 was it love, or only fancy, as you warned 
 me once? for this man is dead! Looking 
 at him as he stood before me yesterday here, 
 in this very summer-house where I am writing 
 now I scorned myself, with a scorn that tin- 
 gled to the very ends of my fingers, that I had 
 ever loved him for an hour, and, above all and 
 over all, that I had ever been mad enough to 
 tell him so. For, Kate, he taunted me with 
 it! Think of that imagine that if you 
 can! Whether you can or cannot, the fact 
 remains the same he taunted me with it ! 
 He asked me me, whom he was insulting 
 and defying if I dared to deny that I had 
 loved him once ! Are you acquainted with 
 any epithet strong enough to express your 
 opinion of such a man ? If so, oblige me by 
 bestowing it upon him, for /am not. 
 
 " Ah, Kate, he is so pitiful in his coward- 
 ic? and fear of me ! He has not even the 
 courage necessary for being wholly false. He 
 alternately blusters and cringes, in order to 
 learn what I 'mean to do.' Baffled in this 
 endeavor, he has set his cousin on the track 
 of discovery. This cousin is a very trans- 
 parent diplomatist, however, and I do not 
 think will be likely to discover very much. 
 In a small way, he is something of a puzzle
 
 68 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 to me. Yesterday evening I changed my 
 opinion of him several times which is rather 
 unusual for me, who have had such good 
 cause to know men well, and to read them 
 easily. He possesses the unusual combina- 
 tion of a certain direct frankness (either real 
 or assumed), together with a great deal of im- 
 perturbable self-possession ; but what chiefly 
 puzzles me is his motive for espousing his 
 cousin's cause, since you are probably as well 
 aware as I am that men do not readily under- 
 take delicate and difficult negotiations (es- 
 pecially with a woman) out of pure friendship 
 for another man. What Captain Tyndale ex- 
 pects to gain by obtaining from me certain 
 concessions for his cousin, which he never 
 will obtain, I cannot as yet imagine. You will 
 say, with that peculiarly deep knowledge of 
 human nature which distinguishes you, that 
 probably the cousin has promised to pay his 
 debts, or to afford him substantial aid in some 
 other form, if he succeeds. I do not know. 
 Perhaps it is because the martial diplomate 
 bears the name of my old hero in ' Wallen- 
 stein,' that I do not think he looks like a man 
 to whom it would be exactly safe to make 
 such a proposal. A gentleman, I should say, 
 a man of better moral fibre than his cousin, 
 as well as of higher ' tone ' he proved that 
 last night when he approached with courtesy 
 and respect a woman whom he had evidently 
 been taught to think worthy of neither. 
 
 "For he the coward whose name just 
 now I cannot force myself to write has 
 added, to the passive insult of treating me as 
 if I were an adventuress, the active insult of 
 saying that I am one. What he has said, 
 and what left unsaid, what insinuated, and 
 what openly avowed, I can scarcely tell you, 
 for it has been merely hinted to me. Carl 
 Middleton half in honest warning, half with 
 the jealous instinct of a man in love told 
 me yesterday that Mr. Tyndale had been kind 
 enough to warn Leslie against sending for 
 me, assuring her that I was a woman ' with a 
 notoriously fast reputation,' and one with 
 whom ' it would not be well for her to associ- 
 ate.' You know these men of the world, as 
 they love to call themselves ; you know how, 
 with an accent, an arch of the eyebrow, a 
 shrug of the shoulders, they can put more 
 force and meaning into one simple sentence, 
 than all the eloquence of all the advocates 
 who have ever lived since the beginning of 
 the world could disprove. I can see, I can 
 
 hear, Arthur Tyndale, as he delivered that 
 warning against me. 
 
 "And perhaps you wonder how I felt 
 when I heard it repeated by other lips. In 
 truth, my Kate, not much more scorn than I 
 had felt before scorn so great, so overpow- 
 ering, that, for a time, it literally swallowed 
 up all other feeling. Then, after a while, in- 
 dignation came over me. I thought, my poor 
 Kate, of our friendless, unprotected girlhood ; 
 of our careless, wandering, vagrant life; of 
 how hard we have striven against odds that 
 none but ourselves can even guess to keep 
 our names above reproach. I thought for, 
 in the still hours of the night, I added up my 
 debt against Arthur Tyndale item on item 
 how well he knew these things, how thor- 
 oughly he had appreciated our position, how 
 entirely he was aware that the hand which 
 Leslie held out might have been to both of us 
 scarcely less than a hand from heaven. Then 
 I thought of his passionate and persistent de- 
 votion when we knew him first; of his reso- 
 lute determination that I who had already 
 learned to put scant faith in men's admiration 
 or men's love should learn to love him ; of 
 his success, at last; of his departure; of his 
 silence ; of the manner in which he flung this 
 love, which he had won at such great cost 
 and from so proud a heart, into the dust like 
 a worthless thing. I recalled the manner in 
 which he had denied to my face that he ever 
 knew me ; the insult which he had added to 
 treachery, the slander to scorn ; I burned it 
 into my comprehension and mcYnory that, not 
 content with having broken his faith, and 
 thrown his honor to the winds, he had opened 
 his false lips than which falser never sp.ike 
 since the birth of time to take away that 
 good name which, of great value to -all wom- 
 en, is simply priceless to us. 
 
 " And, when the debt was all added up, it 
 was so great that I thought to myself, ' What 
 reprisal can ever equal it ? ' " 
 
 The passionate excitement of the writer 
 had waxed so great over the last paragraph 
 that, as her pen dashed rapidly across the 
 paper, covering it with a heavy, black chirog- 
 raph}', very unlike a woman's usual hand, she 
 had failed to notice the steadily advancing 
 cloud, or the muttering thunder overhead. 
 At the hist words, however, that sudden dark- 
 ness fell which amazed the party assembled 
 round the luncheon-table at Rosland ; and,
 
 IX THE SUMMER-HOUSE. 
 
 wondering what strange eclipse bad overtaken 
 the noonday, she looked up with a start. 
 Then she saw the cloud, of whose approach she 
 had before been merely vaguely conscious, and 
 saw, also, how near at hand it was. Through 
 the open door she commanded an excellent 
 view of the lurid blackness which had over- 
 spread the whole western heavens, against 
 which the green depths of summer foliage 
 stood out in vivid relief. As yet every thing 
 was very still but, as she gazed, a low, sigh- 
 ing wind swept by, and two or three birds 
 flew up out of a neighboring copse, uttering 
 shrill, discordant cries. " There is going to 
 be a storm!" she thought a conclusion in 
 which a child of two years old might have ac- 
 quiesced " shall I have time to reach the 
 house before it bursts ? " 
 
 Since there was no weather-seer at hand 
 to answer this question, she paused irreso- 
 lutely and looked at the cloud. As she 
 looked, it gave its terrible and majestic an- 
 swer back. Her very eyeballs seemed 
 scorched by the blinding glare that suddenly 
 lit up the whole face of Nature, and she felt 
 as if the house in which she stood was tum- 
 bling over her head in the pealing crash which 
 followed. Immediately after this, her breath 
 was literally swept away by a storm of wind 
 which rushed into the summer-house like an 
 incarnate fiend ; and, when she recovered it, 
 she found herself seated again in the chair 
 from which she had risen, clutching the table 
 by a blind instinct, while her portfolio and 
 papers were already gone from sight, dancing 
 a demoniac dance on the wings of the wind, 
 thanks to the convenient and delightful 
 thorough draught which she had arranged. 
 
 Her first idea was that she had been 
 struck by that awful and vivid flash of light- 
 ning; but, finding this to be an erronous im- 
 pression, she then decided that it would be 
 well to close the windows against the storm 
 which was rushing in. It cost her a struggle 
 to accomplish this feat, especially on the 
 southern side, for the hurricane beat her 
 back again and again with fierce violence. 
 Succeeding at last, however, she then turned 
 her attention to the door. It proved, how- 
 ever, even more unmanageable than the win- 
 dows had done. The bolt being defective, 
 as fast as it was closed the wind burst it 
 open again with a triumphant blast. Dis- 
 mayed at the third repetition of such a per- 
 formance, Xorah tried the effect of placing a 
 
 chair against it. The effect was simply that 
 of seeing a chair knocked over in the floor, 
 and the door burst wide open for the fourth 
 time. Then she tried the table, which, being 
 a little more substantial, held its own for 
 several minutes. During these minutes, Miss 
 Desmond had time to consider how very warm 
 it was, now that she was safely shut up in a 
 box, to think that she had much better have 
 stayed in the house after all, to wish that she 
 had noticed the approach of the storm a lit- 
 tle earlier, to wonder how long it would last, 
 and to discover that the roof of the sum- 
 mer-house was leaking when the door was 
 burst open for the fifth time, and the drenched 
 figure of a man appeared on the thresh- 
 old. 
 
 " Carl ! " she said, involuntarily, but a 
 pair of long, dark mustaches had not apper- 
 tained to Carl's personal appearance when 
 she saw him last, and, a very battered hat 
 being pushed back at that moment, she rec- 
 ognized Max Tyndale. 
 
 The astonishment on both sides was very 
 great, and without any real or simulated ad- 
 mixture of pleasure. 
 
 " Miss Desmond ! " said Max. Then he 
 took off his hat and laughed shaking him- 
 self like a Newfoundland dog. " I suppose 
 you were caught in the rain as well as my- 
 self," he said. " I had no alternative but to 
 seek the nearest shelter. It is a regular 
 tropical storm ! " 
 
 " I have not been in the rain, but I was 
 caught here," answered Norah. " Pray shut 
 the door if you are coming in," she added, 
 anxiously. " I was sure the wind had burst 
 it open again." 
 
 " I suppose I ought to have asked if I 
 might come in," said he, proceeding to obey 
 her directions. " But I had no idea of find- 
 ing any one, and then " 
 
 " And then you know that you have quite 
 as much right to be here as I have. Don't 
 make foolish apologies, Captain Tyndale; 
 but push the table as hard as you can against 
 the door, else it will not stay shut." 
 
 "Is that the way?" asked he, pushing 
 very hard indeed. 
 
 " Yes, that is the way, but I am afraid it 
 will be open again in a few minutes the 
 storm seems really increasing in violence. 
 Oh ! I have an idea ! You intend to sit 
 down, I imagine. Well, suppose you sit on 
 that? It will help to keep it firm."
 
 70 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 " On the table, do you mean? " 
 
 " Yes, on the table, of course." 
 
 " Very well," said he, and immediately 
 sat down, without exhibiting any sign of sur- 
 prise, or making any objection. 
 
 "You must be invaluable as a soldier," 
 said Miss Desmond, after a short pause, dur- 
 ing which she had regarded him as he sat 
 with his arms crossed and his back against 
 the door. 
 
 " You are very kind," he answered, " but 
 it would not become me to say that you are 
 right." 
 
 " Prompt, unquestioning obedience is the 
 greatest virtue of a soldier, is it not ? " 
 
 "It is one of the most necessary, at 
 least." 
 
 "You certainly seem to possess it in 
 more than ordinary degree." 
 
 " I have generally found it less trouble to 
 obey than to question ; therefore, you see 
 that my obedience would scarcely come under 
 the head of a virtue." 
 
 "It might come under the head of a rec- 
 ommendation though." 
 
 " It has done that once or twice in my life." 
 
 " As when ? " 
 
 " Oh," said he, smiling, " I hope you don't 
 think me so foolish or so egotistical as to 
 entertain a woman with accounts of military 
 events." 
 
 "And pray why not?" asked she, a lit- 
 tle piqued. " Do you think a woman inca- 
 pable of understanding them ? " 
 
 " Not necessarily ; but the chances are, 
 in the first place, that she would be very 
 much bored ; and, in the second place, that 
 the relator would be tempted to embroider, 
 or at least to dwell upon his own achieve- 
 ments two things which no man of sense 
 ever does." 
 
 " You should not make such sweeping as- 
 sertions about men of sense ; you condemn 
 the majority of mankind altogether." 
 
 " Being in the majority, they can afford 
 to support the fact with philosophy, since 
 majorities govern most things in this fine 
 world of ours." 
 
 " Yes unfortunately. Would it not be 
 a singular, and, from some points of view, 
 rather a pleasant thing, if we were able to 
 reverse matters and give the power to mi- 
 norities for a time ? I belong to so many 
 minorities myself, that I should like it ex- 
 tremely." 
 
 " And I should not object. Matters could 
 not be much worse than they are at present." 
 
 " I am surprised that fishing has not in- 
 duced you to look at the affairs of the world 
 more cheerfully. People who like that amuse- 
 ment say that one views every thing so phil- 
 osophically from an angling point of view." 
 
 " Not when the fish refuse to bite, when 
 one breaks a good line, and when a storm 
 comes up and wets one to the skin." 
 
 " I am afraid you must be very wet," said 
 she, as if the idea had occurred to her for 
 the first time. " Don't you think you will 
 take cold ? " 
 
 "It is not impossible, but scarcely prob- 
 able." 
 
 "How did you chance to come here?" 
 she went on, after a minute. " I thought your 
 cousin said that you were fishing in some 
 lake which cannot be very near at hand ? " 
 
 " I ivas fishing there, but I grew tired of 
 an amusement which came to nothing, and I 
 was on my way to Rosland for luncheon when 
 the storm came up." 
 
 " It must have come up very quickly, for 
 I was writing, and did not notice it until 
 there was not time to reach the house." 
 
 " Writing ! were you writing here ? That 
 accounts for various waifs and strays of paper 
 that I saw tossing about. One of them came 
 as straight to me as if it had been directed 
 and sent by post. I was hurrying along, 
 when it blew into my hand so often and so 
 persistently that I caught and crammed it 
 into my pocket. By-the-by, I suppose it is 
 there yet." 
 
 He put his hand into one of his pockets 
 as he spoke, and drew forth a crumpled mass 
 of blotted paper, which he proceeded to 
 smooth out on the table. 
 
 " The' rain has made the ink run to such 
 an extent that I fear it is almost illegible," 
 he said. " But, still, I think it must be yours, 
 Miss Desmond." 
 
 " Why do you think so ? " asked she. 
 
 He looked up with a quick glance in his 
 dark eyes. 
 
 " Because, if you will excuse me, I see a 
 sentence here which no one else could have 
 written," he answered. 
 
 " What is it ? " she asked, as coolly as be- 
 fore. 
 
 " Shall I bring the letter and show it to 
 you ? " 
 
 " No ; read it aloud."
 
 MAX TYNDALE'S MOTIVES. 
 
 71 
 
 " Miss Desmond ! " 
 
 " Well, did you not hear me ? The thun- 
 der does make a great noise. I said, ' Read it 
 aloud.' " 
 
 " Are you in earnest ? " 
 
 " Am I likely to be in jest ? " demanded 
 she, haughtily. 
 
 " It is your own affair, of course," said he, 
 with the momentary surprise vanishing from 
 his face. " I only beg you to believe that my 
 eye fell on the passage accidentally, and that 
 I have seen nothing else. This is it" he 
 bent over the letter and read aloud the fol- 
 lowing, with the utmost sang-froid : 
 
 " ' Looking at him as he stood before me 
 yesterday here, in this very summer-house 
 where I am writing now I scorned myself, 
 with a scorn that tingled to the very ends of 
 my fingers, that I had ever loved him for an 
 hour, and, above all and over all, that I had 
 ever been mad enough to tell him so ! ' " 
 
 " And you think I am the only person who 
 could have written that ? " asked she, in a 
 quick voice, as he stopped. 
 
 He looked up again, and, as he did so, 
 wonder seized him that she should have 
 forced him to read aloud any thing which had 
 power to bring such a blush to her face 
 such a look of pain to her eyes. 
 
 " Forgive me," he said, almost humbly. 
 " I was guilty of gross presumption in think- 
 ing or saying any thing about it." 
 
 " You were guilty of nothing of the kind," 
 answered she, imperiously. "How could a 
 man possibly be guilty of gross presumption 
 toward a woman whom he holds as you hold 
 me ? " 
 
 " Miss Desmond, I must protest " 
 
 " Protest nothing," interrupted she, quick- 
 ly, " or you will force me to hold your word 
 as lightly as that of any other man. No 
 doubt you are like all the rest of your sex ; 
 but, as yet, I have not found it out. For 
 novelty's sake, therefore, let me believe that 
 you sometimes speak truth even to a wom- 
 an ! " 
 
 " Believe me, I was not going to speak 
 any thing else when you interrupted me." 
 
 " Were you going to protest that you do 
 not take me to be the woman whom Arthur 
 Tyndale has described ? " 
 
 " No ; I was only going to protest against 
 your interpretation of my thoughts, and your 
 idea of my opinions." 
 
 " Well, you are candid so far, at any rate," 
 
 said she, smiling a little. " Do you know," 
 she added, after a minute, " that I am half 
 inclined to ask you to read that blotted letter 
 which has come so singularly into your 
 hands ? You cannot believe that I had any 
 intention of the kind when I wrote it. There- 
 fore, you may take it as a truthful statement 
 of certain facts which you have no doubt 
 heard differently rendered from your cous- 
 in's point of view." 
 
 He looked at her keenly. 
 
 " Will you pardon me if I ask again wheth- 
 er you are in earnest ? " he said, gravely. 
 
 " I am perfectly in earnest," she answered, 
 " unless you consider the matter of too little 
 importance to be worth the trouble of deci- 
 phering such a scrawl ! " 
 
 He replied by taking up the letter and be- 
 ginning to read. For some minutes after 
 this, silence reigned that is to say, no words 
 were spoken ; but the pouring rain and the 
 rolling thunder made any thing but silence in 
 the literal sense of the term. Norah watched 
 Max closely, as his eye traveled down the 
 pages of the letter, but she was able to make 
 very little of his face. In truth, he knew that 
 he was being watched, and so put on his most 
 thoroughly impassive and non-committal look. 
 
 This look he carried through to the very 
 end of the letter ; but, when he lifted his eyes 
 at last, the keen glance of the woman before 
 him read in them that she had won his belief 
 and respect. When he spoke, his words were 
 very simple and characteristic : 
 
 " I am glad you did me the honor to show 
 me this, Miss Desmond. Without holding 
 any such opinion of you as you have imagined 
 that I did, I certainly was not aware of the 
 truth as it is here told." 
 
 " I did not suppose it possible that you 
 were," she answered, " and I well, I do not 
 usually care what people think of me, but 
 this opportunity seemed to come without my 
 seeking, and I took advantage of it on an im- 
 pulse which I may possibly regret." 
 
 " I hope you will not do so ! " he said, 
 quickly. " I hope you do not think so poorly 
 of me as to imagine that I misunderstand in the 
 least, or could make any use which you would 
 disapprove of the contents of this letter." 
 
 " No," said she, slowly. " I think you 
 may be honest rand honorable. The two 
 things are not the same, you know, and many 
 men who are the first are not the last." 
 
 " Thanks," said he, smiling. " I consider
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 that as an amende honorable for being called 
 ' a transparent diplomatist.' " 
 
 " I am not sure that you are such a very 
 transparent diplomatist," said she, looking at 
 him, and smiling also. " As you may have 
 noticed, I confessed to Kate that your motive 
 for espousing your cousin's cause a cause 
 which you could not have failed to suspect to 
 be a poor one puzzled me." 
 
 " I noticed that you spoke of me in much 
 better terms than I deserved," said he, flush- 
 ing suddenly, " for I I did not think very 
 highly of you when I approached you last 
 night, Miss Desmond." 
 
 " I was aware of that at the time," said 
 she, " and therefore I appreciated your cour- 
 tesy and respect all the more." 
 
 " You did not resent what lay behind 
 those things ? " 
 
 " No. Why should I have resented that 
 which was perfectly natural ? " 
 
 " Most women would not stop to reason 
 on a question of that kind." 
 
 " So much the worse for most women, 
 then. But ' let us return to our sheeps,' as 
 the Frenchman said. Were we not talking 
 of your motive for advocating your cousin's 
 cause ? " 
 
 " You were talking of it." 
 
 " Which means that you do not wish to 
 do so ? " 
 
 " No," said he, " it does not mean that, 
 for really I have no objection to telling you 
 what my motive is and has been." 
 
 " Well," said she, with frank curiosity, 
 " what is it, then ? You must forgive me if 
 I am inquisitive, but I cannot bear to be puz- 
 zled." 
 
 " There is no reason why you should be 
 puzzled " he began, when, just at that mo- 
 ment, they became conscious that somebody 
 outside was knocking violently on the door, 
 and shouting in an unintelligible manner be- 
 sides. 
 
 " Another unfortunate has been caught in 
 the storm and wants shelter, I suppose," said 
 Xorah. " We have no alternative but to let 
 him in, have we ? Really, this begins to put 
 one in mind of an inn in a play." 
 
 " Don't break down the door I'll open it 
 in a minute ! " shouted Max to the outsider, 
 who certainly seemed in violent haste. 
 
 He descended from the table as he spoke, 
 and, drawing it aside, the door swung quickly 
 back revealing the water -pro of -enveloped 
 
 figure of Carl Middleton, with a broken um- 
 brella in one hand and a bundle of wraps 
 under the other arm. 
 
 " How glad I am to find you ! " he said, 
 stalking breathlessly forward to Xorah. " I 
 was terribly afraid you would not be here, 
 although the gardener swore he saw you as 
 he passed the door an hour ago. You've no 
 idea how anxious they all are about you at 
 the house ! ' 
 
 " Did you come out in all this storm to 
 look for me ? " she said. " How could you 
 be so foolish ! It is so kind of you, and so 
 provoking of you, both at once ! You will 
 take your death in the way of a cold, and 
 then what shall I do for a champion ? " 
 
 " I will never die while you need me, you 
 may be sure. But are you confident you are 
 not wet ? Have you not been caught in the 
 rain at all ? " 
 
 " Not at all. Not any more than if I had 
 been sitting in my own room, where it would 
 have been wiser to have stayed. But there is 
 Captain Tyndale, who was even more wet than 
 yourself when he first sought refuge here." 
 
 Thus recalled to a sense of propriety, Carl 
 turned and shook hands with Max. 
 
 " I beg pardon for not speaking before," 
 he said, " but I was so anxious about Miss 
 Desmond I left Leslie, firmly persuaded that 
 she had been struck by a bolt of lightning, or 
 knocked over by a falling tree." 
 
 " I am sorry to have caused so much un- 
 easiness," said Norab, " but it is a very good 
 rule in life to expect the best until the worst 
 happens. It spares one so much unnecessary 
 annoyance." 
 
 " I suggested something of that kind to 
 Leslie," said Carl, " but she paid no attention 
 to it." 
 
 " We are none of us likely to be philos- 
 ophers in an emergency," said Max. Then 
 he walked to the door, which still remained 
 open, and stood there, drinking in the fresh, 
 rain-laden air. " I think your imprisonment 
 will be at an end very soon, Miss Desmond," 
 he went on. " The storm will be likely to 
 pass as quickly as it came. Already the clouds 
 are breaking in the west, and the worst is 
 plainly over." 
 
 His prediction was amply verified. Fifteen 
 minutes later, Norah decided that it was quite 
 possible for her to attempt to return to the 
 house. True, the ground was a literal lake, 
 and the clouds were yet sending quick show-
 
 MRS. SANDFORD'S ADMIRATION OF NORAH. 
 
 73 
 
 ers upon it, but Carl had brought a pair 
 of overshoes, besides a water-proof and two 
 shawls, so she felt able to defy moisture ei- 
 ther above or below. When she was equipped 
 for departure, when the overshoes had been 
 fitted on, and she had drawn the dark hood 
 of the water-proof over her graceful head, 
 she turned and looked at Max. 
 
 " Of course you are coming too, are you 
 not ? " she said. 
 
 " I believe not," he answered. " My ward- 
 robe is at Strafford, and therefore I must 
 turn my steps in that direction. After all, it 
 is not very much farther to go. Good-day, 
 Miss Desmond, and let me hope sincerely that 
 you will not suffer any ill effects from your 
 exposure." 
 
 " That is a very stiff, disagreeable fellow," 
 said Carl, as, having parted, they went their 
 different ways. " I cannot understand how all 
 those people at Rosland like him so much." 
 
 " And perhaps he cannot understand why 
 they like you so much," said Norah. " Lik- 
 ing and disliking are arbitrary and inscrutable 
 things at best. By-the way," said she, start- 
 ing suddenly and speaking half to herself, 
 " he carried my letter with him ! " 
 
 " Your letter ! " repeated Carl, surprise 
 and jealousy instantly appearing in mixed 
 quantities on his face. " What the deuce is 
 he doing with a letter of yours ? You must 
 have takcm amazing strides toward intimacy 
 while you were shut up there together ! " 
 
 " You forget that we are old friends," 
 said she, maliciously. "And, after all, the 
 letter does not matter, being of little or no 
 importance." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 "Let the world roll blindly on ! 
 Give me shadow, give me sun, 
 And a perfumed clay as this is : 
 
 Let me lie, 
 
 Dreamfully, 
 
 When the last quick sunbeams shiver 
 Spears of light across the river, 
 And a breeze which seems the sigh 
 Of a fairy floating by, 
 
 Coyly kisses 
 
 Tender leaf and feathered grasses ; 
 Yet so soft its breathing passe?, 
 These tall ferns, just glimmering o'er me, 
 Blending goldenly before me, 
 
 Hardly quiver ! " 
 
 " How beautiful your sister is, my dear ! " 
 said Mrs. Sandford, enthusiastically. " You 
 
 can't imagine how much I am charmed with 
 her ! " 
 
 " Yes, Norah is certainly very beautiful ! " 
 said Leslie. " I am glad you like her. She 
 is very attractive, too, I think, although her 
 manner may strike you at first as a little 
 cold" 
 
 "Oh, no, no only dignified, and reserved, 
 and delightful." 
 
 " But, after a while, you will sec that it 
 is only manner. I do not think that she is 
 cold herself." 
 
 " Well, now, do you know I rather like 
 cold people," said Mrs. Sandford, opening 
 her blue eyes very wide indeed. "lam so 
 warm-hearted, so outspoken, so impulsive 
 myself, that I admire and really envy people 
 like Miss Desmond, who are always self-con- 
 tained, always say and do the right thing, 
 and never possibly commit themselves to any 
 thing wrong." 
 
 "I hope Xorah does not deserve quite 
 such high praise as that," said Leslie. "So 
 great an amount of perfection would be unin- 
 teresting." 
 
 " She is charming," repeated Mrs. Sand- 
 ford " really charming ! I assure you that 
 I have fallen quite in love with her ! " 
 
 This assurance was given on the morning 
 after the volatile lady's arrival at Rosland. 
 Breakfast being over, she found herself for a 
 few minutes alone with Miss Grahame in the 
 drawing-room, and it was impossible to allow 
 these few minutes to pass without going into 
 raptures over such a convenient and tempting 
 subject for raptures as Miss Desmond. Les- 
 lie, who understood her guest very well, was 
 not at all surprised. 
 
 " Xorah would be flattered if she knew 
 how well she had impressed you," she said, 
 moving back a few paces, to see if some flow- 
 ers she had been arranging stood well in the 
 vase. " She is not exactly the kind of woman 
 whom other women usually like." 
 
 " Because she is so beautiful, I suppose," 
 said Mrs. Sandford. "But, then, I never was 
 jealous in my life never ! My greatest 
 friends have always been among beautiful 
 women." 
 
 " You have never had any need for jeal- 
 ousy," said Leslie : it was impossible in com- 
 mon courtesy to say less. But then she 
 changed the subject paying and receiving 
 compliments being very little to her taste. 
 " Come and tell me if you do not think this
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 vase is well arranged," she said, " and look 
 what lovely sofrano-buds these are ! " 
 
 While Mrs. Sandford was going into rap- 
 tures over the vase and over the sofrano-buds, 
 Carl entered the room, looking rather out of 
 humor. 
 
 " Have you given up the fishing expedi- 
 tion, Leslie?" he inquired. "I heard you 
 promise Tyndale last night that we would be 
 over there early this morning, but I don't see 
 any movement that way, and the sun is get- 
 ting higher and hotter every minute." 
 
 " I ordered the carriage when we left the 
 breakfast-table," Leslie answered, " and I was 
 only waiting until it came round, to propose 
 that we should put on our hats." 
 
 " The carriage ! " repeated he, in a tone 
 of disgust. " Why did you not order the 
 phaeton for Mrs. Sandford and yourself, and 
 let Miss Desmond go with me on horse- 
 back ? " 
 
 " Because Norah declined such an arrange- 
 ment, saying that her habit would be too 
 much in the way at Strafford." 
 
 " Mrs. Middleton is not going with us, 
 then ? " said Mrs. Sandford, turning round 
 from the roses. 
 
 " No ; she is not fond of damp grass, and 
 she thinks that you will be chaperone enough 
 for the party," answered Leslie, smiling. 
 
 " How absurd it seems to talk of my being 
 a chaperone at all," said the pretty widow, 
 with a silvery laugh so even that ill-natured 
 people averred it had been practised at the 
 key-board. " I never can repress my amuse- 
 ment at the idea ! One feels so young, Mr. 
 Middleton, even after one has ceased to be ex- 
 actly young." 
 
 " If feeling follows appearance, I can well 
 imagine that you might fancy yourself six- 
 teen," said Carl, paying with only tolerable 
 grace the tribute which was plainly expected 
 from him. 
 
 " The French say that, in the matter of 
 age, a woman is what she looks," said Leslie, 
 corning to his relief. " Carl, what do you 
 think of going to inquire if the carriage is 
 not coming to the door to-day ? " 
 
 Ten minutes later, the carriage drove to 
 the door, and the ladies in linen dresses 
 dresses not likely to be injured by mud or 
 water and becoming sailor-hats were assem- 
 bled on the veranda. Mrs. Middleton, pro- 
 vided with a fan and a novel, and established 
 in a comfortable wicker-chair, looked at them 
 
 with compassionate surprise. It was a dis- 
 pensation of Providence, she thought, that 
 young people required amusement but what 
 amusement was to be found in driving two or 
 three miles for the purpose of spending the 
 day on damp grass and in wet boats, with a 
 scorching sun overhead, when they might 
 have staid in a cool house or on a shaded lawn, 
 and taken life easily, she was unable to im- 
 agine. 
 
 " You think you will not be back to 
 luncheon? " she asked, in a tone which plain- 
 ly said, " If you are wise, you will be." 
 
 " Oh, no," Leslie answered, turning on the 
 steps, while Carl assisted Mrs, Sandford and 
 Miss Desmond into the carriage. "I prom- 
 ised Arthur that we would certainly take 
 luncheon at Strafford. We shall be back in 
 time for dinner, but not before." 
 
 " Very well," said Mrs. Middleton. " I am 
 sure I hope you will have a pleasant day, but 
 I do not think the rain has tempered the heat 
 at all, and in shady places you will be likely 
 to find it very damp, indeed." 
 
 "Aunt Mildred is evidently of the opinion 
 that our prospects of enjoyment are not very 
 brilliant," said Leslie, after they had driven 
 off. " As a general rule, I agree with her in 
 thinking that al-frcsco parties are mostly fail- 
 ures but occasionally they are pleasant." 
 
 " Chiefly when they are impromptu," said 
 Carl. " Rarely ever when they have been 
 talked over and arranged." 
 
 " This one is impromptu, is it not ? " asked 
 Mrs. Sandford. 
 
 " Partly so ; enough, perhaps, to insure its 
 being moderately pleasant," answered ' he. 
 " Plans of the kind, however, ought to be car- 
 ried out when they are perfectly fresh. To 
 defer their execution is like waiting five min- 
 utes to drink a glass of soda-water." 
 
 " You ought to be very glad that it was not 
 carried out yesterday," said Korah. "Fancy 
 having been caught without shelter in that 
 storm of wind and rain ! " 
 
 " I am glad you waited till to-day on my 
 account," said Mrs. Sandford. " I shall be so 
 glad to see Strafford ! I have heard so much 
 of it from my cousins. And then there is 
 Captain Tyndale. I shall really be very glad 
 to see /'?, though I think he might have been 
 civil enough to come over to Rosland and see 
 me last night." 
 
 " He did not know that you were expect- 
 ed," said Leslie.
 
 THE TYNDALES' HOME. 
 
 75 
 
 " Oh, tbat accounts for it, then ! " said she, 
 with the air of one who accepts a satisfactory 
 explanation. "He was at my house so con- 
 stantly before he left the city, and we made so 
 many plans for seeing a great deal of each 
 other down here, that I thought his absence 
 very strange last night. It is certainly very 
 pleasant," she added, with a laugh. "Do 
 you know, Leslie, that it is town-talk in Alton 
 that I am engaged to him ? " 
 
 "Is it, indeed?" said Leslie. "No, I 
 should never have suspected such a thing." 
 
 " I tell my friends that they are really 
 quite absurd," said Mrs. Sandford, shrugging 
 her shoulders. " They engage me to a new 
 man every month, though I have said again 
 and again that I have not the faintest idea of 
 marrying anybody for at least five years to 
 come ! One can do as one pleases when one 
 is a widow, which is considerably more than 
 one can do as a wife ; and, therefore, I find it 
 a great deal pleasanter than having a jealous 
 husband to worry one." 
 
 " But husbands are not necessarily jeal- 
 ous," suggested Carl. 
 
 " Indeed, I don't trust any of them not to 
 be," said she, and it was evident that she 
 meant it; "I don't trust any of them not to 
 be jealous of me.'" 
 
 " Of course I bow to your superior knowl- 
 edge," said he. " It is certainly based on a 
 much more extended experience than I can 
 boast." 
 
 In such instructive and entertaining con- 
 versation the drive passed. It was a greater 
 distance to Strafford by the high-road than by 
 the short cut across the fields which Arthur 
 and Max chiefly affected, but before long they 
 saw the tall chimneys and brown gables of the 
 house showing through the green foliage of 
 the park. The nooks and dells of the latter 
 were full of more than usual beauty as the 
 early sunlight slanted across the wet grass 
 and through the mighty branches of the great 
 oaks, throwing entrancing shadows on the 
 turf. It was not oaks alone, however, which 
 filled the park. There was scarcely one of 
 the magnificent variety of Southern shade- 
 trees which was not represented, with bosky 
 depths of copse-like shrubbery intermixed. 
 Every thing was as green and still as an 
 enchanted forest, every thing was glitter- 
 ing yet with the rain of the day before, 
 and every thing, even to the moss - grown 
 palings, bore eloquent witness that this home 
 
 of the Tyndales was not a place of yester- 
 day. 
 
 That it was a beautiful place no one could 
 deny. They all said so with one accord as 
 they entered the wide gates and drove to the 
 front of the house, where Arthur and Max 
 were standing in the shade of the stone por- 
 tico waiting for them. When the carriage 
 stopped, the former stepped forward, looking 
 even more handsome and high-bred than usual. 
 Perhaps it was the consciousness of standing 
 on his own threshold which helped him to a 
 new dignity and courtesy of manner. Cer- 
 tainly it is a consciousness which cannot fail 
 to have its effect upon any man who is not 
 hopelessly parvenu in blood and sentiment. 
 
 Next the door, which he opened, sat Mrs. 
 Sandford and Leslie, who naturally descended 
 first, and, while they were being assisted to 
 the ground, Norah said, in her quick, impe- 
 rious way, to Carl : 
 
 " Open the other door, and let me out. It 
 is not necessary to wait on them, is it ? " 
 
 " Not in the least," he answered ; and, im- 
 mediately wrenching the door open, he sprang 
 out and extended his hand to her. 
 
 As she was about to take it, Tyndale spoke 
 quickly, having deposited Leslie on the ground, 
 and turning his back on Mrs. Sandford, who 
 was greeting Max with an enthusiastic ripple 
 of words and laughter. 
 
 " Take care, Miss Desmond, there is a 
 great deal of mud on that side. Let me as- 
 sist you out here." 
 
 But Norah had already given her hand to 
 Carl, and, before he finished speaking, she 
 was on the ground, with the slight misadven- 
 ture of brushing her dress against a muddy 
 wheel, and stepping deep with one kid boot in 
 the soft loam. 
 
 " Look ! " she said, holding out her foot to 
 Carl. " Is it not a pity ? " 
 
 "Let me take it off," said he, and, stoop- 
 ing, he drew out an immaculate white-cambric 
 handkerchief for the purpose. 
 
 "Don't be absurd, Sir Walter Raleigh," 
 said she, drawing back the foot with a laugh. 
 " Mud is more appropriate to shoes than to 
 handkerchiefs, if it must be on one or the 
 other. It is a small penalty to pay for es- 
 caping the necessity of having my hand 
 touched by him / " she added, in a lower 
 tone. 
 
 After this they passed into the house, 
 where Mrs. Sandford went into a rapture of
 
 76 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 admiration over the fine old hall, with its 
 carved oaken staircase, its paneled walls, its 
 family portraits, and antlered stag - heads 
 which had gazed serenely down for many a 
 long day since that by -gone time when they 
 had looked their last on the fair greenwood, 
 with its dewy coverts, its tangled depths, and 
 gleams of summer shade and sheen. 
 
 They lingered for a little while in the 
 pleasant, old - fashioned drawing - room so 
 lofty, spacious, and softly toned, that it did 
 not look as if heat could ever invade it. On 
 the green terrace without, deep, cool shadows 
 were lying. It seemed impossible to imagine 
 a scene more suggestive of repose. 
 
 " One might almost forget that there was 
 such a thing as time in a place like this ! " 
 said Carl, following Norah, who, after a while, 
 walked to the end of the room to look at a 
 statue. " There seems a sort of dreamy 
 stillness in the very atmosphere. I should 
 call it stagnation, but some people Mr. 
 Tennyson's lotos-eaters, for example might 
 like it extremely, I dare say." 
 
 " It is more a melancholy than a dreamy 
 stillness," answered she. "One feels that 
 life has long been absent from these rooms. 
 Do you know that I am enough of a barba- 
 rian to prefer a new house to an old one ? " 
 added she, suddenly. " An old house al- 
 ways seems to me peopled with ghosts. I 
 am sure that lady, for example " turning 
 her back on the marble Psyche, and pointing 
 to a faded beauty in the costume of fifty or 
 sixty years before " comes down and walks 
 the floor at night in her satin and pearls." 
 
 " You don't mean that you believe in 
 ghosts ? " 
 
 " One believes in what one has seen gen- 
 erally. I saw a ghost once." 
 
 " Indeed ! " laughing and arching his 
 brows. " Pray when and where was it ? " 
 
 " Ask in a tone of faith, and perhaps I 
 may tell you." 
 
 " But I thought faith was to come after- 
 ward " he began, when at that moment Ar- 
 thur Tyndale advanced down the room tow- 
 ard them. 
 
 " Leslie says that she thinks we had bet- 
 ter go to the lake now," he said, address- 
 ing Norah, with rather a deprecating look 
 in his violet eyes. "That is if you are 
 ready." 
 
 " I am quite ready," she answered, with 
 careless coldness. Then she turned to Carl. 
 
 " If you will promise to be quite credulous, I 
 will tell you all about it," she said. 
 
 What the " it " was, Tyndale, of course, 
 did not know ; but he did know that she 
 wished to show him in this way, as in every 
 other, that his intercourse with her was to 
 be restricted to the narrowest possible limits, 
 Turning, she walked down the room with 
 Middleton, and he had no alternative but to 
 follow at some distance behind them. 
 
 They found Leslie, Mrs. Sandford, and 
 Max, waiting on the terrace outside a ser- 
 vant in attendance laden with fishing-gear. 
 " If we are to go at all, I think we had better 
 go at once," the former said ; and so they set 
 forth. 
 
 Their way lay across the park, under its 
 green shade, across its fresh, fragrant grass. 
 The earth and air seemed washed clean by the 
 late rain ; the former exhaling a sweet, moist 
 odor, the latter clear and bright as crystal, 
 with a buoyancy in it different indeed from 
 the sultry heat of the days that had gone be- 
 fore. The air was full of soft, woodland 
 sounds a ringing echo of the rejoicing mirth 
 of every bird and insect. The sky was the 
 tenderest sapphire, crossed by a few fleecy 
 clouds, and the distant, violet hills stood out 
 clearly, unrelieved by the faintest drapery of 
 haze. 
 
 Before long they came to the lake a 
 transparent, winding sheet of water, on the 
 farther side of which rose the slender stems 
 of pines, with delicate, spear-like crests, out- 
 lined like pencil tracery against the clear, 
 blue heavens. On the side where they stood 
 were many nooks and inlets, shadowed over 
 by drooping trees, and made more beautiful 
 by the broad green leaves and pure white 
 blossoms of the water-lily. 
 
 " Is it not pretty ? " said Leslie, turning 
 to Norah. " Of course, it is only an artificial 
 sheet of water, but it has been seventy years 
 since it was made has it not, Arthur ? and 
 so we may fairly suppose that it has forgot- 
 ten by this time that it is not quite natu- 
 ral." 
 
 "Nobody would ever suspect that it was 
 artificial," said Norah. "It is very pretty 
 indeed." But in this as in every thing else, 
 she seemed to avoid saying very much about 
 the beauties of Strafford, thinking, perhaps, 
 that from her lips such praise might sound 
 like regret. 
 
 Then each lady's line was arranged by
 
 A FISHING EXCURSION. 
 
 77 
 
 her attendant cavalier, and, having estab- 
 lished themselves two-and-two at different 
 points along the shore, they proceeded to 
 iish. 
 
 As might reasonably and safely have been 
 predicted, however, the fishing came to very 
 little. Patience and silence sire, as a general 
 rule, two absolute requisites for success in this 
 sport, and neither of these virtues is likely 
 to be displayed in eminent degree by a pair 
 of young people, who, being more or less in 
 love, or more or less .inclined to flirt with 
 each other, are sitting side by side in a green 
 nook, with limpid water at their feet, a blue 
 sky overhead, and the whole glory of a mid- 
 summer day around. Max, who was the best 
 angler of the party, contrived to catch a fish 
 or two, despite his companion's unceasing 
 chatter; but Norah was the only one of the 
 feminine trio who had any success. Instead 
 of displaying exultation, however, it must be 
 recorded of her that she was sufficiently 
 weak-minded to insist that Carl should throw 
 the gasping trout back into its native ele- 
 ment. 
 
 " It is mine ! I will do as I please with 
 it ! " she said, authoritatively, when he de- 
 murred. " If you will not throw it back, I 
 can call Albert " (this was the servant) " to 
 do it. I shall never again impale a poor 
 creature upon a hook and draw it out of the 
 water to die." 
 
 So the trout was thrown back, to Albert's 
 great disgust, and Miss Desmond pronounced 
 her fishing over for the day. " It is too beau- 
 tiful to do any thing more than be merely 
 idle ! " she said, leaning back against the 
 great brown trunk of a water-oak, and tilting 
 her hat over her brow, low enough to keep 
 the sun out of her eyes, but not low enough 
 to shut out a view of the level expanse of 
 water, the curving shore, and the dark, sol- 
 emn pines, whence now and then the breeze 
 brought whiffs of that spicy, aromatic odor 
 familiar to the nostrils of all those who have 
 ever lived in a pine-region. 
 
 After a while, however, she grew weary 
 of quiescence, and, rising, sauntered away, re- 
 fusing absolutely to allow Carl to accompany 
 her. " Stay where you are, and catch my 
 fish again, if you can," she said, a little mock- 
 ingly. " As for me, I am tired of society just 
 now, and I want a little solitude." 
 
 " Tired of your society," would have been 
 the true rendition of that sentence, if poor 
 
 Carl had only known it ; but the stars will 
 fall indeed when it begins to enter the re- 
 motest conception of a man in love that his so- 
 ciety can possibly ever bore the woman with 
 whom he is in love. 
 
 So Miss Desmond wandered away into 
 solitude, farther and farther from the group 
 she had left behind, from the sound of Mrs. 
 Sandford's theatrical little scream every time 
 Captain Tyndale drew forth a fish, from Les- 
 lie's pleasant, ringing laugh, from Arthur 
 talking to Carl and Carl talking- back to Ar- 
 thur, each out of his own leafy covert wan- 
 dered aimlessly on and on, plucking absently 
 at a water-lily which Carl had procured for 
 her at the imminent risk of a plunge-bath 
 thinking, meanwhile, thoughts neither very 
 sweet nor very bitter, but simply grave, if it 
 were possible to judge by the expression of 
 her face. 
 
 After a while she came to a nook so pret- 
 ty that it involuntarily tempted her to pause. 
 The shore rounded just here into a mimic 
 bay, the green turf sloped softly down to the 
 water's edge, and, under the silvery branches 
 of a willow that bent until it touched the lake, 
 a little skiff was lying, with the oars across it. 
 At this Norah looked, with desire in her eyes ; 
 but it had been many a long day since she 
 had handled an oar, and she had a great dis- 
 like to trouble, added to a still greater dis- 
 like of making herself ridiculous. " Better 
 never do a thing at all than not do it well," 
 was her motto a motto which she faithfully 
 observed, for she never did attempt to do any 
 thing at all unless she was sure of being able 
 to do it well. Hence, in the present instance, 
 she contented herself with sitting down on 
 the grass and throwing a longing glance at 
 the boat lying so restfully under the willow. 
 She was almost sorry now that sh'e had not 
 allowed Carl to come with her " except that 
 I am so horribly tired of him," she said, 
 aloud, throwing a tiny pebble into the water 
 with a plash. 
 
 " So horribly tired of whom ? " asked a 
 voice over her head ; and then, as she start- 
 ed and looked up, Max Tyndale added : " I 
 beg pardon, Miss Desmond. I should not 
 have answered your remark, only the tempta- 
 tion was great." 
 
 " The temptation to play eavesdropper ? " 
 asked she, haughtily. " But, then, people 
 who soliloquize in the open air must expect 
 eavesdroppers, I suppose. It seems to me,
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Captain Tyndale," she added, in a different 
 tone, " that you are always begging my par- 
 don about something or other." 
 
 " You mean, perhaps, that I am always 
 doing something for which I need to beg your 
 pardon ? " 
 
 " Perhaps that is it. For example, what 
 are you doing here now ? I came away to en- 
 joy mjdolcefar niente ; and I did not imagine 
 that the whole party would soon be following 
 me." 
 
 " Am I the whole party ? It has really 
 struck me that I am only one, and an insig- 
 nificant member of it." 
 
 " It is easier to fancy that the whole party 
 are coming than that you have come alone, 
 unless, like myself, you are in search of the 
 twin oreads, silence and solitude." 
 
 " I am afraid that you are the only oread 
 whom I can honestly plead guilty of being in 
 search of." 
 
 " And, may I ask, why are you in search 
 of me?" 
 
 " I answer in the words of Katharine to 
 Petruchio, ' I am sent to bid you come in to 
 dinner ' or rather to luncheon." 
 
 " It is a pity to leave out any thing so ap- 
 propriate as the first part of that sentence. 
 Why are you not honest enough to quote in 
 full, and say, ' Against my will. I am sent to 
 bid you come in to dinner ? ' " 
 
 " Simply because it was not against my 
 will," answered he. " I not only insisted upon 
 coming, but I bore off the palm from Middle- 
 ton, who was anxious to be sent on the same 
 errand." 
 
 " How very tired you must have grown of 
 Mrs. Sandford ! " said she ; then, as he flushed, 
 she laughed. " Confess that being bored was 
 the secret of your anxiety to come if, in- 
 deed, you were anxious." 
 
 " Well, yes, I confess that was it," said 
 he, laughing in turn, but emulating her frank- 
 ness with remarkable ease. " Mrs. Sandford 
 is a very pleasant person, and one who does 
 me the honor of professing to be a friend of 
 mine ; but still, a whole morning spent in 
 her society is is " Here he paused. 
 
 " Is rather exhausting, I should think," 
 said Miss Desmond. " / found an hour of it 
 a great deal too much for me last night." 
 
 " Yet she speaks most enthusiastically of 
 you." 
 
 "Does she? That is very good of her, 
 especially since I am unable to return 
 
 any of the compliments she may have paid 
 me." 
 
 " I confess that I like to hear a woman 
 speak pleasantly of other women," said Cap- 
 tain Tyndale. He was leaning back against 
 a tree, and looking meditatively at the charm- 
 ing picture which the beautiful woman be- 
 fore him made. " It shows amiability, at 
 least." 
 
 " Do you think so ? Knowledge of wom- 
 en is your special forte, is it not, Captain 
 Tyndale ? " 
 
 " Very far from it," answered he. " I am 
 old-fashioned enough to credit women with a 
 great many more virtues than they than 
 many of them, that is seem to care to be 
 credited with at present." 
 
 " I don't think any woman of sense likes 
 to be set up on a pedestal, with a label 
 of conventional virtues attached," said she. 
 "We are what God has made us a subtile 
 mixture of good and bad, of sense and folly. 
 But we are nothing if we are not sincere. 
 Now, a woman like Mrs. Sandford, with only 
 honey on her lips, is not sincere." 
 
 " You mean, I suppose, that ' who dare 
 not censure, scarce can praise ? ' " 
 
 " I mean that praise which is given indis- 
 criminately is worth nothing except to show 
 the weakness or falsity of the speaker. You 
 look shocked ! See how you men are shocked 
 if you hear a woman speak truth once in a 
 way." 
 
 " I cannot think that it is truth, Miss Des- 
 mond I cannot believe that amiability al- 
 ways means weakness or falsity." 
 
 " And 1 never said or implied any thing 
 of the kind. But you are one of the men 
 who will live and die worshiping an ideal, un- 
 less, indeed, you have the misfortune to mar- 
 ry it." 
 
 " And then ? " 
 
 " Oh, well, then you will find that gall is 
 occasionally mixed with the honey." 
 
 " Shall I ? " said he, a little dreamily. It 
 is likely that he was not thinking of Mrs. 
 Sandford, as he passed his hand half absently 
 across the red mark which the straw hat in 
 his hand had left on his forehead. " But 
 there are some women who have no gall in 
 their nature," said he. 
 
 " When you find such a woman, you may 
 reasonably hope that a century hence her 
 name will take its place in the calendar of the 
 Church."
 
 ON THE LAKE. 
 
 " How can you be so incredulous of good 
 in your own sex ! " said he, almost sharply. 
 
 " I am not incredulous of good, but of 
 perfection. Besides, you should remember 
 that my experience of life has not been fa- 
 vorable to seeing much of the qualities which 
 you laud in my own sex. Few women have 
 honey on their lips for a beautiful Bohemian 
 like myself. Such friends as I have made in 
 my life and they are few enough, God knows ! 
 have all been men." 
 
 "All, Miss Desmond?" 
 
 " All except the nuns of a convent in 
 which I once spent a few months, and ac- 
 quired all the education and all the religion 
 that I possess." 
 
 She spoke half defiantly, as if to say, 
 " See and know the worst of me ! " but Max 
 made no reply. He was not at all shocked 
 for few things are able to shock a man who 
 has seen much of the world but he thought 
 how different this woman was from any wom- 
 an whom he could possibly admire or love. 
 Beautiful though she was beautiful with a 
 glory of flesh and blood rarely equaled her 
 Bohemian defiance and recklessness con- 
 demned her utterly in his eyes. Again he 
 compared her with Leslie thereby ignoring 
 the different circumstances that had made the 
 different women what they were and tried 
 to fancy that graceful embodiment of all wom- 
 anly gentleness denying the good in her own 
 sex, and openly proclaiming the fact that all 
 her friends were men ! While he was trying 
 to do this, and failing utterly, Norah's voice 
 roused him a voice, with that tone of mock- 
 ery in it, which, of all her tones, was most 
 distasteful to his ear. 
 
 " Now that I have thoroughly shocked 
 you, Captain Tyndale, and showed you how 
 entirely I belong to the life in which I was 
 born and reared, I will let you go to luncheon. 
 Don't trouble about me. I will come after 
 a while when I feel like it. Just now, I don't 
 feel like it in the least. I am comfortable 
 and lazy." 
 
 "So am I," said he, "and therefore, if 
 you will be good enough to let me stay" 
 
 " Let you stay ! But are you not hungry ? 
 Men always are hungry." 
 
 " I don't think they always are at least, 
 I am sure that I am not, just at present." 
 
 " I see that you are afraid of Mrs. Sand- 
 ford," said she. " Honey clogs after a time, 
 even on the palates of those who like it. But 
 
 you may stay on one condition that you will 
 take me out on the water in that charming 
 little boat under the willow there." 
 
 " I will take you with pleasure, if you 
 care to go, but are you not afraid of the sun ? 
 Arthur decided not to propose boating until 
 this afternoon." 
 
 " The sun can do nothing but tan me a 
 little, and that I am not afraid of. But, if 
 you object to the exertion " 
 
 " /object to the exertion ? I'll have the 
 boat out in a minute, and take you round the 
 lake, if you care to go." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " The day so mild 
 
 Is Heaven's own child, 
 With Earth and Ocean reconciled ; 
 
 The airs I feel 
 
 Around me steal 
 Are murmuring to the murmuring keel. 
 
 " Over the rail 
 
 My hand I trail 
 Within the shadow of the sail, 
 
 A joy intense, 
 
 The cooling sense 
 Glides down my drowsy indolence." 
 
 " AH, how delightful ! " said Koran. " Could 
 any thing possibly be more pleasant ? " 
 
 It was the first genuine expression of 
 pleasure which she had uttered at Strafford, 
 and seemed drawn from her involuntarily, as 
 she found herself floating on the still bosom 
 of the lake, with the golden noonday lying 
 all around her, and a breeze, which had just 
 then sprung up, bringing spicy wafts of pine- 
 land fragrance over them. 
 
 " It is pleasant," said Max " pleasanter 
 than I thought it would be ! If we coast along 
 in the shade, we shall not suffer from heat at 
 all, and we can go to the head of the lake if 
 you like." 
 
 " If I like ! " repeated she. " If you leave 
 the question of how far we shall go to me, I 
 warn you that I shall be likely to have no 
 mercy on your arms. I can imagine nothing 
 more delightful than the lulling charm of this 
 gliding motion." 
 
 " You spoke of dolce far nienle a little 
 while ago," said he, pulling along with the 
 easy skill of a practised oarsman. " This is 
 the perfection of it to float dreamily along 
 in a boat is even more suggestive of repose 
 on such a day and under such a sky as this,
 
 80 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 than to lie on the grass under the shadow 
 of a tree." 
 
 " So I think ; and yet you did not want to 
 come !" 
 
 " Pardon me I only wanted to warn you 
 that you would be likely to find the sun very 
 warm." 
 
 " I am not afraid of the sun. I have 
 lived most of my life in the south of Europe, 
 where people love and enjoy it." 
 
 " But where they also understand how 
 and when to keep out of it. For stillness 
 and repose, commend me to a high-noon in 
 Italy or Spain." 
 
 " And yet how you see the fishermen and 
 lazzaroni basking in that very high-noon ! / 
 have seen it often, and wished that I were 
 one of them." 
 
 " What a lucky thing that our wishes are 
 not always gratified, isn't it ? " 
 
 "I am not sure of that. With regard to 
 my wish, for instance, I envied the lazzaroni, 
 because they are so entirely contented with 
 life, and all that life has given them. I know 
 no other class of people who are half so well 
 satisfied. I have never, to my knowledge, 
 envied a duke or duchess, but I have often 
 envied the beggar curled up in a palace door- 
 way. We Bohemians are next to them in 
 devil-may-care recklessness, and indifference 
 to all save the passing hour ; but we lack the 
 sublime philosophy and trust of our poor re- 
 lation on a Neapolitan door-step." 
 
 " Your poor relation may have a sublime 
 trust, but he has also a keen eye to the chance 
 of a penny." 
 
 "So have we a keen eye to whatever 
 may advantage us, a keen sense of all the lib- 
 erty, pleasure, and respect, that flows from 
 money. I know, for instance, exactly how 
 much it would take to live like a yrande dame 
 in Paris ; and I confess I should like as well 
 to try the experiment as our poor relation 
 likes macaroni on a fete day." 
 
 " I should think your life in Paris would 
 not be difficult to compass," said he, looking 
 at the beautiful face before him. " Women, 
 with fewer advantages than yours, have often 
 made brilliant marriages." 
 
 " Women, with less beauty and less clev- 
 erness, perhaps you mean," answered she, 
 coolly. " Those are trump cards, and sure to 
 win when one's position in life supports them 
 otherwise they only secure for their pos- 
 sessor attention and admiration little removed 
 
 from insult. The beauty and wit of a vagrant 
 are of small account in the respectable world, 
 Captain Tyndale. I learned that by the time 
 I was fifteen." 
 
 " You seem to have learned a great many 
 hard lessons for one so young." 
 
 " A street Arab generally learcs a little 
 more of life than a mother's darling in his 
 nursery at home." 
 
 " And you? " 
 
 " I have been one of the Arabs of civiliza- 
 tion ever since I was born. You would laugh 
 if you knew how strange the life in which I 
 find myself here seems to me. Its ease, its 
 luxury, its comfort, are literally incredible. 
 I find myself expecting all the time some jar 
 of the wheels, some proof of sordid care, of 
 debt and trouble and want of money, behind 
 the scenes." 
 
 " What a life you must have lived ! " 
 
 " And yet it has been a freer and happier 
 one than many you would hold enviable by 
 the side of it. We know how to enjoy our- 
 selves in Bohemia ; in the worst weather we 
 know how to keep ' on the windy side of 
 care ; ' and, when we do have any money, we 
 know how to spend it royally ! " 
 
 " I am aware of that," said he, laughing. 
 
 "And, although I have sometimes felt as 
 if I would give any thing to hold some definite 
 position in life," said she, trailing Carl's lily 
 slowly through the water, " as if I would like 
 to stand no longer in an attitude of defiance 
 to society, yet I know that I could not endure 
 the bondage and stagnation of ordinary re- 
 spectable existence of your ideal woman's 
 existence, for example for an hour ! I 
 should pine as the lion which Girard brought 
 from the desert, pined in his cage, in the Jar- 
 din des Plantes." 
 
 " Then you mean to live and die a Bohe- 
 mian? " 
 
 " I mean to do nothing save take life as it 
 comes as I am taking it to-day. Look up 
 at that sky, Captain Tyndale it is beautiful 
 enough for Italy ! And see how the green 
 boughs go across it ! Ah, it is something to 
 bo alive on such a day as this just to be 
 alive ! One need not wish or ask for any 
 thing more ! " 
 
 She threw her head back and looked up- 
 ward, the flickering shadows falling lovingly 
 across tho white arch of her throat and the 
 rounded outlines of her form. The attitude 
 was as free from affectation or self-conscious-
 
 A MANY-SIDED CHARACTER. 
 
 81 
 
 ness as that of a child, and yet graceful as 
 that of the most thoroughly-trained actress. 
 She seemed reveling, as she had said, in the 
 simple sensuousness of existence a nature 
 full of vitality and keenly alive to beauty, 
 thrilling with the full pulse of life, and 
 steeped to the lips in the golden charm of 
 the summer day. Max looked at her criti- 
 cally. After all, he could not wonder that 
 Arthur had loved this woman with a passion 
 greater than any which he had given to Les- 
 lie Grahame. She was eminently the kind of 
 woman to fascinate a man of Arthur's stamp, 
 Captain Tyndale decided a woman with 
 moods like a chameleon, a woman who could 
 be simple as a child one moment, and impe- 
 rious as a queen the next yet who might, 
 perhaps, fascinate even while she puzzled, 
 annoyed, and repulsed. " But it would fare ill 
 with any man who tied his heart-strings to her 
 rudder!" he thought, going back in imagi- 
 nation to that " serpent of old Nile " whose 
 infinite variety age could not wither nor cus- 
 tom stale. In truth, even Captain Tyndale's 
 cool judgment began to find itself a little at 
 fault with this " beautiful Bohemian," as she 
 called herself. She had already shown him 
 so many different sides of her character, that 
 he began to wonder which was the real one 
 or if, indeed, there were a real one ! As fast 
 as he felt an inclination to like or admire her, 
 she shocked and disconcerted him ; as soon 
 as he detected a trace of womanly gentleness, 
 it turned into hauteur or mockery. " What 
 the deuce am I to do ? " thought he, medi- 
 tatively. 
 
 It may be imagined, perhaps, that there 
 was no very incumbent necessity upon him 
 to do any tiling, as far as Miss Desmond and 
 her peculiarities of manner and character 
 were concerned ; but the " martial diplo- 
 mate," as she called him, thought otherwise. 
 He could not forget that he had solemnly 
 promised to obtain, if possible, some assur- 
 ance of what she meant to do, and he could 
 not forget, either, that this assurance was as 
 yet entirely unobtained. In the morning 
 Arthur had reminded him of this fact. " You 
 will have an opportunity to see Norah alone 
 to-day, Max," he said. " For Heaven's sake, 
 try and draw something definite from her ! " 
 Now, with Mrs. Sandford and Carl Middleton 
 in the background, Max knew perfectly well 
 that the present was the only opportunity 
 for seeing Norah alone, and therefore he was 
 
 naturally anxious to make the most of it, and 
 open his important negotiation at once. But 
 how to do it? That was the question. 
 
 It was a question which dwelt on his 
 mind not a little, as he rowed along in the 
 perfect stillness of the noonday, under the 
 drooping shadow of the trees that lined the 
 shore, past the tiny, curving bays and inlets, 
 and finally around a point which opened to 
 them a different part of the lake altogether 
 a part more beautiful than any they had seen 
 before, Norah thought, as she Ipoked at the 
 crystal water stretching away, until it seemed 
 to vanish in the depths of a green, shadowy 
 forest which fringed it at the upper end, such 
 a forest as those who have never seen South- 
 ern forest-growth, especially in the vicinity 
 of water, cannot even imagine. 
 
 " The tropics must be like this, I ima- 
 gine ! " said she, 'pointing to the broad-leaved 
 water-plants around, and the indescribable 
 blending of color in the foliage and under- 
 growth beyond. " How much more beauti- 
 ful than the park, for we arc past the park 
 now, are we not ? " 
 
 " Entirely past it." 
 
 "And does this'" indicating with a mo- 
 tion of her hand the magnificent verdure be- 
 fore them " does this belong to Arthur Tyn- 
 dale, also ? " 
 
 " Every rod of ground around us belongs 
 to him." 
 
 " I am sorry ! " said she. " Oh, not sorry 
 that he is rich ! " she added, quickly, as she 
 met Max's glance. " That is not a matter of 
 the least importance. I only meant that I 
 am sorry there is no breathing-place for me 
 even in those beautiful woods, for I cannot 
 breathe freely on Arthur Tyndale's ground." 
 
 " Do you hate him so much, Miss Des- 
 mond?" 
 
 " Hate him ! " She turned her full, brill- 
 iant glance on him. " No, Captain Tyndale, 
 I do not ' hate him ' in the least." 
 
 " Why, then " he began, but seemed to 
 think better of the question, and paused. 
 
 She finished it for him with the impetu- 
 osity to which he had by this time become a 
 little accustomed. 
 
 " Why, then, do I feel that I cannot breathe 
 in his house or on his lands ? Simply because 
 I scorn the man, with a scorn which I cannot 
 express to you, and because I scorn myself 
 not a little for being here to-day, for playing, 
 or seeming to play, a part which degrades rae ! "
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Max saw his opportunity and seized it at 
 once despite the quick passion that lit up 
 her mobile features at the last words. 
 
 "Will you allow me to ask why you do 
 play it, then ? " he said. 
 
 " Because I choose to do so," she an- 
 swered, curtly. 
 
 After this there was naturally nothing 
 more to be said. Captain Tyndale devoted 
 himself in silence to his oars ; Miss Desmond 
 still trailed Carl's lily through the water, and 
 was silent also. They had proceeded some 
 distance, and were floating rather than row- 
 ing past a shore along which tangled vines, 
 with starry leaves and brilliant crimson flow- 
 ers, were running in many trailing loops and 
 graceful festoons, when Norah spoke again 
 abruptly : 
 
 " That was very rude that last speech 
 of mine! I might have told you civilly, at 
 least, that I choose to keep my affairs to my- 
 self, might I not?" 
 
 " I have no right to quarrel with the in- 
 civility of your reply, Miss Desmond ; my 
 question drew it on myself." 
 
 " You always contrive to blame yourself, 
 Cnptain Tyndale. Are you very amiable or 
 very hypocritical ? " 
 
 " Neither, I think I never take blame to 
 myself when I do not honestly believe that I 
 deserve it." 
 
 She laughed ; and, throwing the lily care- 
 lessly away, plunged her white, gleaming 
 hand into the water instead. 
 
 " How pleasant ! " she said. " Who would 
 not be a naiad, if she could ! " Then, 
 abruptly : " But you have taken blame to 
 yourself once or twice when it was /who de- 
 served it." 
 
 " Was it ? I think you must be mistaken. 
 I am not enough of a preux chevalier to be 
 ever gallant for the mere sake of gallantry." 
 
 " You puzzle me a little," said she, look- 
 ing at him with inquisitive eyes. " I never 
 met a man exactly like you before and that 
 is something unusual in my experience. Most 
 men are nlike on all general points." 
 
 " In wh;it particular have I struck you as 
 unlike other men ? " asked he, looking in- 
 tently at the beautiful face, on which the 
 broad light of noonday fell, showing every 
 delicate tint and perfect curve. 
 
 " Well, for one thing," said she, candidly, 
 " most men lose their heads in talking to me. 
 You have not done so." 
 
 " I prefer to keep my head under all cir- 
 cumstances," said he, coolly. " It is more 
 convenient. Men who lose their heads lose 
 every advantage that skill or chance can give 
 them. I prefer to take all of mine." 
 
 " So should 7, if I were a man ! " 
 
 " And, although you are a very beautiful 
 woman, Miss Desmond, you are not a wom- 
 an" 
 
 " Finish your sentence," said she, quietly, 
 as he paused. " Say that I am not a woman 
 whom you admire." 
 
 " You credit me with more impertinence 
 and less taste than I deserve," answered he. 
 " Should I have been likely to have remem- 
 bered your face, as I saw it in Paris two years 
 ago, if I had not admired it ? No ; if I had 
 finished my sentence, I should have said that 
 you are not a woman whom a wise man would 
 allow to deprive him of his head or of his 
 heart." 
 
 " Wise men sometimes do very foolish 
 things," said she, looking at her hand as it 
 lay idly under the water. " They sometimes 
 put their heads and their hearts into the 
 hands of a fool, and that is worse than put- 
 ting them into the hands of you may char- 
 acterize me, if you choose, Captain Tyn- 
 dale." 
 
 " Shall I say, then of a beautiful woman 
 who is trying to believe that she has no 
 heart ? " 
 
 " You are impertinent ! " said she, sud- 
 denly turning her face round, and flashing an 
 eloquent glance of anger upon him. 
 
 " I beg your pardon. I see that one is 
 never safe, under any circumstances, in tak- 
 ing a woman at her word." 
 
 " You might have called me a Bohemian 
 adventuress, or a fast flirt, and I should not 
 have cared." 
 
 " As far as I can venture to judge, how- 
 ever, you are neither of those things." 
 
 " But to say that I 7am ' trying to be- 
 lieve ' that I have no heart ! " 
 
 " It would have been wiser not to say it, 
 perhaps." 
 
 " What should. I do with a heart, if I had 
 it ? " asked she, with a low, scornful laugh. 
 " Let another man amuse himself with it as 
 long as he likes, and then throw it away to 
 harden or break as it pleases ? " 
 
 "Before you could ask such a question, 
 Miss Desmond, you must have forgotten that 
 there are men of honor in the world."
 
 EXPLANATORY CONVERSATION. 
 
 83 
 
 " Men of honor to women of assured 
 position in life, very likely," said she, dryly. 
 
 " Men who would hold themselves bound 
 by their plighted word if it were given to one 
 of the lazzaroni of whom you spoke a little 
 while ago," said he, almost sternly. 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " We need not discuss the subject. You 
 believe in the general honeyed nature of 
 women Bohemian women excepted from 
 your experience. I believe in the general lax 
 ideas of honor in men from my experience. 
 We all look at the world from a one-sided 
 point of view. It is a thing which cannot be 
 helped, I suppose." 
 
 " In our cynical moments most of us are 
 apt to look very gloomily on human nature," 
 said he ; " but sometimes human nature 
 proves itself better than we expected more 
 generous, more faithful, more worthy of trust. 
 Miss Desmond, that is a riddle. Will you 
 read it ? " 
 
 " I never read a riddle in my life, Captain 
 Tyndale." 
 
 " Then, in plain words," said he, quickly, 
 " I should like to think that you will prove 
 more generous than any one than Arthur 
 Tyndale, least of all has a right to expect 
 that you will be ! " 
 
 " Ah," said she, looking at him with a 
 sudden keen glance, " you have taken up 
 your role of devil's advocate again, have you ? 
 By-the-by, this reminds me that, when we 
 were interrupted yesterday afternoon, you 
 were about to tell me what was your motive 
 for espousing your cousin's cause and giving 
 him the invaluable aid of your diplomatic 
 talent. We are not likely to be interrupted 
 here, so you can tell me now." 
 
 " I have no objection to doing so," said 
 he. " My motive for desiring to serve Ar- 
 thur is partly on account of my friendship for 
 him, but more particularly and principally on 
 account of your sister." 
 
 " On account of my sister ! " 
 
 " Yes," said he, steadily, although he felt 
 with vexation that the keen eyes bent upon 
 him were noting a sudden flush which showed 
 itself through his bronzed skin. " I saw long 
 ago I mean months ago that her happiness 
 is wholly bound up in Arthur, and that, if her 
 tru^t in him is once broken, it it will be a 
 terrible blow to her." 
 
 Captain Tyndale felt that he had fallen 
 into the depths of abject commonplace in 
 
 this speech ; but he would have been a brave 
 man and a fluent man who could have held 
 his thoughts and his tongue under proper con- 
 trol with the lustrous challenge of Norah Des- 
 mond's glance bent upon him. Max felt his 
 ideas and his words alike forsaking him when 
 he suddenly remembered that the " terrible 
 blow " which he deprecated for Leslie had al- 
 ready fallen on her. 
 
 " So you think that Leslie's happiness is 
 ' bound up ' in Mr. Tyndale ! " she said, as he 
 paused an incisive coolness in her voice 
 striking unpleasantly on his ear. " I should 
 have given her credit for being more of a 
 woman of the world, and looking at things 
 from a more worldly and philosophical point 
 of view." 
 
 " Then you must pardon me if I say that 
 you understand her very little," said he, bend- 
 ing with sudden energy to his oars. 
 
 " I have imagined that her engagement to 
 Mr. Tyndale is much such an engagement as 
 is often made in society convenience amply 
 consulted on both sides," she added, after a 
 short pause. 
 
 " It is impossible, Miss Desmond ! " he 
 said, indignantly. " You could not have 
 known your sister for an hour, and done her 
 so much injustice." 
 
 " Injustice ! Is that injustice ? I know 
 so little of your world that you must for- 
 give me. I really thought it was high 
 praise." 
 
 "You are mocking both her and me," he 
 said, after a minute. " Since I have brought 
 it on myself, I suppose I have no right to com- 
 plain ; but, if you will allow me to apologize 
 for having opened the subject, I can safely 
 promise never to do so again. My role of ad- 
 vocate is over." 
 
 " Is it ? " said she, quietly the mocking 
 light vanishing from her eyes, the mocking 
 tone from her voice. " I am glad to hear it, 
 Captain Tyndale, for it is not a role that be- 
 fits an honest man. As far as Leslie is con- 
 cerned, however, you are right. She is as 
 different from me as day is from night so 
 different that, if we lived together for fifty 
 years, we should be no nearer any real sym- 
 pathy for each other than we are to-day but 
 I see and recognize all the sweetness and 
 strength that make up her character. I see 
 that she is engaged to Arthur Tyndale simply 
 because she loves him ; and I, who came here 
 with a heart as hard against her as the nether
 
 84 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 millstone, have learned already to hesitate 
 in my reprisal on her account." 
 
 " Why should your heart hare been hard 
 against her? " asked he, with point-blank di- 
 rectness. 
 
 " Why is a socialist's heart hard against 
 the rich ? Is it not because they have that 
 which he lacks that for which he is starv- 
 ing ? So it was with me. I had never envied 
 Leslie the love and wealth which surrounded 
 her in fact, I had scarcely ever thought of 
 her but, when she wrote and told me that 
 to Tier had fallen, also, that which had been 
 the one bitter-sweet gift of my life when she 
 said that the man who had treated me in so 
 cruel and cowardly a manner was her ac- 
 cepted lover well, then it would have taken 
 some one more reasonable and more Christian 
 than I, not to desire to make her feel a little 
 of the bitterness which filled my heart." 
 
 " And so it was that you came ? " 
 
 " Yes, so it was that I came came pre- 
 pared for any amount of patronage and con- 
 descension, but not for one iota of the affec- 
 tion and kindness which met me in her honest 
 eyes." 
 
 " And for her sake for her sake alone, 
 Miss Desmond can you not spare Arthur 
 Tyndale the exposure which I freely own he 
 deserves ? " 
 
 " Even for her sake, Captain Tyndale, 
 would you advise me to do so ? " 
 
 " Why should I not advise you to do 
 so?". 
 
 " Simply because you might put yourself 
 in Leslie's place, and see whether you would 
 thank the mistaken kindness which sent you 
 through life holding a lie for truth, dishonor 
 for honor, a coward for a brave man ! " 
 
 " But you do not look at the matter as I 
 do," said he, earnestly. " Arthur Tyndale is 
 no worse than many other men who go 
 through life safe in the loving esteem of faith- 
 ful hearts. He has fallen into dishonor more 
 through weakness than intent. But this dis- 
 honor does not touch his loyalty to your sis- 
 ter. He loves her unquestionably. You 
 think, perhaps " as her lip curled " that 
 this is a consideration of little importance. 
 But it is of great importance if we look at the 
 matter as it regards her, and we are looking 
 at it simply as it regards her, are we not? 
 Hence we cannot afford to ignore the fact that 
 Arthur's dishonor, as I said before, has not 
 affected his loyalty to her. For the rest, I 
 
 am sure that you do not need for me to tell 
 you that she loves him. Neither can you 
 need for me to tell you what it would be to 
 her to discover the position which he holds 
 to you. You see in all this," said he, break- 
 ing off abruptly, " I am taking for granted 
 that you have no feeling of of the sort that 
 some women would have, left for him." 
 
 " I have no idea what sort of feeling some 
 women would have left for him," said she, 
 carelessly, " but / have none save contempt. 
 If it were possible to cut away with a sharp 
 knife and at any expense of pain all lhat part 
 of my life into which he entered, I would do 
 it simply that I might not include myself in 
 this contempt. Beyond that, I have no feel- 
 ing of any kind for your cousin, Captain Tyn- 
 dale." 
 
 " You can realize, however, that, to your 
 sister, such contemptuous renunciation of 
 what was once love, might not be so easy. 
 Her pride would hold her aloof from him, but 
 I scarcely think lhat her scorn would enable 
 her to fling all need of him out of her life as 
 you have done." 
 
 " Would it not? " said Norah. 
 
 Again she turned a quick, intent glance 
 on the speaker. 
 
 " I am inclined to disagree with you," she 
 added, after a minute. " I think that if an- 
 other man more worthy, and loving her as 
 well, perhaps better than Arthur Tyndale 
 came into her life, she would soon learn to 
 love him" 
 
 " I am presumptuous enough to say that 
 I think you are mistaken. I am sure that 
 Miss Grahame is one of those women who are 
 faithful by a divine instinct of Nature faith- 
 ful often to unworthy objects and in their 
 own despite. Therefore it might be better 
 for her to go through life 'holding a lie for 
 truth' than to be overtaken by utter ship- 
 wreck at its very beginning." 
 
 " Certainly in the former case she would 
 not fare worse than other women have before 
 her," said Norah, cynically. "Was Satan 
 right, after all, I wonder ? 7s it ' folly to tell 
 women truth ? ' Would they ' rather live on 
 lies, so they be sweet ? ' One might think so 
 from the universal practice of men. But, for 
 me " she turned on him with a sudden, pas- 
 sionate energy for which he was unprepared 
 " I would rather a thousand-fold be miser- 
 able than deceived ! Let any fool's paradise 
 into which I have entered be shattered forev-
 
 MRS. SANDFORD'S INDIGNATION. 
 
 85 
 
 er, so that the clear light of truth comes 
 in ! " 
 
 " Still, can you not see that there may be 
 cases " 
 
 " Yes, I can see that there may be cases 
 in which your conventional ideal woman 
 would rather bo left to worship her clay idol 
 in ignorance. But, despite your opinion of 
 Leslie, I think there may be better stuff in 
 her than that. She may be brave enougli to 
 face the truth, and, if so, Captain Tyndale, 
 on my honor as a Christian woman, she shall 
 have it ! The choice shall rest with her- 
 self, however, I promise you that ; and here 
 is my hand upon it ! " 
 
 With a sudden, graceful motion, she drew 
 her hand, all wet and gleaming, from the wa- 
 ter, and held it out to him. Dripping though 
 it was, the man would have been made of 
 strange material who hesitated to take it; 
 and, as Max bent forward to do so, he thought 
 that the first sweet smile he had ever seen on 
 the lovely lips before him was faintly curving 
 them just then. 
 
 " You are more generous than I ventured 
 to hope," he said. " But promise me that in 
 nny case you will incline more to mercy than 
 to justice." 
 
 " I think you ought to be content with 
 what you have gained, Mr. Devil's Advocate," 
 answered she, with the smile deepening a lit- 
 tle. " I cannot make any rash promises, even 
 though the hand on which it would be rati- 
 fied is rather slippery ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 "How many years since she and I 
 
 Walked that old terrace, hand-in-hand! 
 Just one star in the rosy sky, 
 
 And silence on the summer land. 
 And she ? . . . 
 
 I think I hear her sing 
 That song the last of all our songs. 
 
 Hew all comes back ! thing after thing, 
 The old life o'er me throngs ! " 
 
 " I DON'T know what anybody else may 
 think," said Mrs. Sandford, " but I call such 
 conduct very fast, indeed ! " 
 
 The irately virtuous tone of this remark 
 would have suited the chiefest of social Phari- 
 sees, instead of a lady famous for willful dis- 
 regard of all the laws and canons of proprie- 
 ty ; but, when we are angry, very few of us arc 
 strikingly consistent or logical, and Mrs. Sand- 
 ford was as angry just then as a pretty wom- 
 
 an who is fond of admiration ever becomes 
 in the presence of a man to whom she is not 
 related. 
 
 " I don't know exactly what constitutes 
 fast conduct in a Chasseur d'Afrique," said 
 Carl, who was lying at full length on the 
 grass by her side, " but I think it is amazing- 
 ly inconsiderate conduct in your friend Cap- 
 tain Max." 
 
 " You may be sure it is not Captain Tyn- 
 dale's fault ! " said she, with marked emphasis 
 on that gentleman's name. " He is not so 
 great an admirer of Miss Desmond's that he 
 would be likely to go off of his own accord 
 and spend the whole day in her company." 
 
 " Whose accord could he have gone of, 
 then, I wonder ? " said Carl. " Certainly not 
 on mine, for, as you may remember, I was 
 quite as anxious to go in search of her as he 
 was." 
 
 " I did not observe that he was anxious at 
 all." 
 
 " Didn't you ? You must have been very 
 busy just then counting all the fish you had 
 caught." 
 
 " He does not admire Miss Desmond in 
 the least" (returning to that point with a 
 positive and somewhat triumphant air). " He 
 would scarcely acknowledge that she was 
 beautiful when I asked him if he thought so, 
 and, therefore, it is impossible that he is in 
 fault for all this long absence." 
 
 " No man with any worldly knowledge, or 
 with tact above a grasshopper, ever tells one 
 woman that another woman is beautiful," 
 said Middleton, placidly ; " but, if Tyndale is 
 not in fault for all this long absence, it natu- 
 rally follows that Miss Desmond must be. 
 Yet I don't think she has any particular fancy 
 for 7u'm." 
 
 " Miss Desmond is the sort of woman who 
 has a fancy for the society of any man. It is 
 only that of women which she dislikes." 
 
 " I am not sure that you are wrong there," 
 said he, laughing. " She may not fancy the 
 society of any man to alter your emphasis a 
 little but I think that, as a general rule, she 
 prefers men to women." 
 
 " Those Bohemian adventuresses always 
 do," said the pretty widow, provoked, until she 
 scarcely knew what she was saying. " They 
 know that women can see through them!" 
 
 " And they probably know, also, how much 
 i amiability and kind judgment they can expect 
 ; from women ! " said Carl, with a flash, not of
 
 86 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 laughter, in his eyes, while his brow knitted 
 into its quick frown. 
 
 " No woman was ever more disposed for 
 kind judgment than I am," said Mrs. Sand- 
 ford, quickly conscious, perhaps, that she 
 had gone a little too far. " I am foolishly, ab- 
 surdly lenient in my opinions, but, when every- 
 body who knows any thing about the family, 
 knows what Miss Desmond's rearing has been, 
 she ought really, out of consideration for 
 herself, to be more careful in her conduct." 
 
 " I think I shall go in search of her," said 
 Carl, rising lazily to his feet, and leaving a 
 crushed outline of himself on the grass. 
 " This becomes interesting and mysterious. 
 One, two, three hours since Tyndale disap- 
 peared, and no sign of either of them yet. 
 If there were panthers in this wood, one 
 would know what to think ; but, as it is, I'll 
 give Miss Desmond your hint, Mrs. Sandford, 
 for which, no doubt, she will be properly 
 grateful, and send Tyndale as soon as I find 
 him." 
 
 With this cavalier adieu, he sauntered 
 away, leaving Mrs. Sandford a desperate 
 being in ecru linen and blue ribbons alone 
 on the margin of the lake. She did not throw 
 herself in, however, but was found, in a pictu- 
 resque, musing attitude, by Miss Grahame and 
 Mr. Tyndale when they came up a little while 
 after. 
 
 " What, all alone ? " said Leslie. " Has 
 Carl vanished too ? " 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Middleton is so bewitched by 
 Miss Desmond, and so inconsolable at her 
 absence, that I really could not keep him 
 any longer on my hands ! " answered this in- 
 genuous lady. " I insisted upon his going in 
 search of her, and he left only a minute ago." 
 
 " I cannot imagine what has become of 
 Xorah and Captain Tyndale," said Miss Gra- 
 hame, " unless Arthur is right in thinking 
 that they have probably taken the boat and 
 gone to the head of the lake." 
 
 " I am sure they have done that," said 
 Arthur. " I noticed a short while ago that 
 the boat has vanished from the place where 
 Max usually leaves it." 
 
 " But it was very selfish of them to go off 
 alone," said Mrs. Sandford, in a tone of the 
 most genuine vexation. "/ should have 
 liked to see the head of the lake, too ! " 
 
 " Some accident must have occurred to 
 detain them," said Leslie, " else I am sure 
 Norah would have been back before this." 
 
 " I think I hear the sound of oars now," 
 said Tyndale, walking nearer to the shore. 
 
 This proved to be the case. The sound 
 of oars and of voices was heard, together with 
 a light laugh, which the listener had cause 
 to know well. The next moment, around a 
 curve of the shore, the two delinquents came 
 into sight, Max pulling so lazily on his oars 
 that it was scarcely wonderful they had not 
 arrived before ; Norah, with her lap full of 
 wild-flowers, trailing one long, leafy spray in 
 the water, as she had trailed Carl's hardly- 
 won and lightly-thrown-away lily before it. 
 
 " Have you wondered what had become 
 of us ? " she asked, as Max ran the boat up 
 to the bank and she stepped ashore, being 
 forced to accept, in doing so, a slight assist- 
 ance from the hand which to avoid she had 
 soiled her boot in the morning. " It is all 
 my fault. I carried Captain Tyndale off 
 whether he would or no, and we found a 
 fairy-land in those beautiful woods at the 
 head of the lake. See ! are not these beauti- 
 ful ? " She held up her flowery spoils. " Does 
 anybody know enough of botany to tell me 
 what they are ? " 
 
 While Leslie was admiring the flowers, 
 and naming the most familiar varieties, Mrs. 
 Sandford turned to Captain Tyndale, who, 
 having also stepped ashore, was making his 
 craft fast to a convenient tree. 
 
 " Unless I should have been entirely de 
 trop, I think you might have been kind 
 enough to come back and invite me to accom- 
 pany you on your expedition," she said, open- 
 ing a perfect battery of reproachful glances 
 on him. " I should have liked nothing bet- 
 ter than to have gone. I adore boating ! " 
 
 " Do you ? " said he, lifting his head after 
 having fastened the boat. " But you adore 
 croquettes and Heidsick, also, don't you ? If 
 you remember, you were all going to luncheon 
 when Miss Desmond and I started on our ' ex- 
 pedition.' " 
 
 *' And, pray, are you and Miss Desmond 
 so ethereal that you are able to dispense with 
 food altogether ? or did you find luncheon as 
 well as flowers at the head of the lake ? " 
 
 " We found a few well-baked blackberries, 
 the very last of the season." 
 
 "You must have left the boat to find 
 those!" 
 
 " Of course we left the boat. I suppose 
 we spent an hour wandering about in search 
 of the flowers Miss Desmond has."
 
 CARL IN A JEALOUS HUMOR. 
 
 87 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Mrs. Sandford. She gave 
 a glance at Norah, as she stood with flushed, 
 lovely face and torn dress for her encoun- 
 ters with bushes and briers had not been few 
 farther in the shade. Then she laughed 
 her rippling laugh, which sounded like a 
 piano-forte scale. " It is really refreshing to 
 see a woman who knows so well how to make 
 men of use as Miss Desmond does ! " she 
 said. " As for me, I am so afraid of being 
 troublesome that I scarcely ever venture to 
 make such downright demands on their time 
 and patience." 
 
 " You should not be so modest," said 
 Max, with a tone of irony in his voice. " Men 
 are nothing if not useful." 
 
 " I don't think one gains any thing but 
 boredom by modesty, after all," said she ; 
 " so, if you are sure you are not tired, you 
 may take me out on the lake for a little while, 
 please." 
 
 " Delighted to do so, I am sure," said he, 
 with one of those ready falsehoods which we 
 all tell so glibly, and solace our consciences 
 by thinking it merely " conventional." 
 
 So, complying weakly with a feminine in- 
 vitation, for the second time that day, Cap- 
 tain Tyndale found himself again afloat, row- 
 ing across the lake with tired arms, and lis- 
 tening to his companion's emphasized conver- 
 sation with a somewhat tired mind. 
 
 Carl, meanwhile, made his appearance, 
 having caught a glimpse of the homeward- 
 bound boat as he sauntered along the shore, 
 more bent on escaping Mrs. Sandford than on 
 finding Norah. Although he had carried off 
 matters so lightly with the former, he had 
 in truth been sorely offended by Miss Des- 
 mond's desertion and long absence. Hope- 
 less as he was, or might have been, for him- 
 self, he was ready to be jealous of anybody in 
 the world on whom the light of her eyes should 
 chance to fall, and he anathematized Max 
 Tyndale almost as warmly as he had before 
 anathematized Arthur, while the long hours 
 which the former was spending at her side 
 wore away. " She can no more help flirting 
 than she can help breathing," he thought. 
 " Of course she is making a fool of him ! " 
 Now, although the after-effects of being made 
 a fool of are not pleasant, it is nevertheless 
 (with a woman who thoroughly understands 
 her business) a very delightful amusement at 
 the time, and of this Carl was fully aware. 
 Hence, he indulged in savage thoughts of 
 
 Captain Tyndale, who was just then, no 
 doubt, enjoying this delight. Hence, also, he 
 looked remarkably grave and a trifle de- 
 pressed when he came up to where Norah, 
 Leslie, and Arthur, were standing on the 
 bank, watching Max as he pulled the little 
 boat vigorously along in the full blaze of the 
 afternoon sun. 
 
 " Captain Tyndale must surely be in 
 training," said Carl. " Does he do this sort 
 of thing often ? He has been rowing steadily 
 on a stretch for how many hours ? " 
 
 " He did very little rowing when I was in 
 the boat," said Norah. " We floated most 
 of the time. You have no idea how pleasant 
 it is if one keeps in the shade." 
 
 " Very pleasant, I dare say " (a little 
 grimly). " But is he trying to disgust Mrs. 
 Sandford, that he is keeping so broadly in the 
 sun just now ? " 
 
 " The shadow is on the other side of the 
 lake at present," said Miss Desmond. " In 
 the morning it was on this side. That makes 
 the difference." Then she turned to Leslie. 
 " Have you had much sport since I left ? " 
 she asked. " Have you caught many fish ? 
 You know Mr. Middleton promised to eat all 
 of your catching." 
 
 " He will not be troubled or gratified, as 
 the case may be," answered Leslie. "I have 
 caught literally nothing. In fact, a more harm- 
 less set of people never amused themselves 
 by dropping baits in water, I am sure." 
 
 " It has been so profitless," said Tyndale, 
 " that I am afraid you must be tired. Sup- 
 pose we go to the house ? Max and Mrs. 
 Sandford can follow at their leisure." 
 
 To the house, therefore, they took their 
 way along the path which they had followed 
 in the morning rather subdued in appear- 
 ance and manner as people are apt to be 
 after a day of "pleasure." Certainly it is 
 only when we have set ourselves deliberately 
 to work to capture enjoyment, that we begin 
 to realize what a very elusive thing it is al- 
 most as elusive as the love which 
 
 " will fly away from an emperor's match 
 
 To dance at a penny wedding." 
 
 A very elusive thing it certainly seemed 
 to have proved to Carl, who at last broke si- 
 lence, with a frank expression of his senti- 
 ments: 
 
 " I knew the whole thing would be a fail- 
 ure," he said, " but really I was not prepared
 
 88 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 for such an unmitigated bore as it has 
 been ! " 
 
 " What a pity Mr. Tyndale could not hear 
 you ! " said Norah. " It would serve as a warn- 
 ing to him not to invite such an exiyeant gen- 
 tleman on another fishing-party." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that you have not 
 been bored ? " demanded he, turning suddenly 
 upon her. 
 
 " Not particularly," answered she, indif- 
 ferently. "I did not expect anything very 
 exhilarating in the way of amusement, and, 
 when one's expectations are moderate, one's 
 disappointment cannot be very severe." 
 
 " Yet you certainly must have been amused 
 after a fashion," said he, quickly and suspi- 
 ciously, " else you would not have remained 
 away with Tyndale so long." 
 
 " I cannot say that I was specially amused, 
 but it was better than sitting on a rug, hold- 
 ing a line in the water, and waiting for a fish 
 to impale itself on a hook." 
 
 " I should think it would have been worse 
 than any or all of those things to have that 
 heavy fellow on your hands for such a length 
 of time." 
 
 " My experience among ' heavy fellows ' 
 has been so great that I have grown thor- 
 oughly accustomed to them. I am afraid I 
 should scarcely know what to do with a brill- 
 iant one if I were to meet such a rara avis." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Carl, flushing, and real- 
 izing afresh that in any word - encounter he 
 was always sure to get the worst of Norah's 
 keen tongue. 
 
 After this, very little more was said. Miss 
 Desmond evidently meant to keep her own 
 counsel on the score of her long tete-d-tele with 
 Max as, indeed, those who knew her were 
 soon forced to learn that she kept it on all 
 subjects. It may have been that she owed to 
 the peculiar circumstances of her hap-hazard, 
 vagrant life, a knowledge of the great worldly 
 wisdom which lies in habitual reticence. At 
 all events, she possessed it in remarkable de- 
 gree for one so young. 
 
 When they reached the house, its cool 
 rooms looked doubly inviting after their green- 
 wood experience of five or six hours, as they 
 all agreed, sitting at ease in the pleasant 
 drawing-room. 
 
 " I am sure I should not have liked to bo 
 Maid Marian," said Leslie. "I scarcely think 
 Robin Hood himself could have tempted me." 
 
 "How different people are ! " said Norah. 
 
 " Now, that life always had the greatest pos- 
 sible attraction for me. I am sure I should 
 have 'fled to the forest' with Allen-a-Dalo 
 without compunction and probably been 
 an unrepentant victim of chronic rheumatism 
 six months afterward." 
 
 " What an inducement you give one for 
 becoming an outlaw ! " said Carl, with a tone 
 of only half jest in his voice. 
 
 But she turned from him impatiently 
 addressing Arthur for the first time volunta- 
 rily : 
 
 " I have noticed but one thing lacking in 
 your beautiful grounds," she said. " Have 
 you no flower-garden ? " 
 
 " There is one," he answered, as if taken 
 by surprise, " but it is old - fashioned and 
 greatly neglected. Flowers soon run into 
 weeds, you know. Such as it is, however, 
 will you " he paused, hesitated a moment, 
 then went on deprecatingly " will you come 
 and look at it ? " 
 
 " No, thanks," she was beginning, when 
 Leslie interposed : 
 
 " Yes, Norah, pray go ! I want you to 
 see every thing at Straffbrd, and I think the 
 garden will be beautiful when it is put in or- 
 der again. Take her, Arthur and don't for- 
 get to show her what a lovely view there is 
 from the terrace just above." 
 
 "Will you come?" said Arthur again, 
 more deprecatingly than before. 
 
 He looked at her eagerly, so did Carl. 
 Both were uncertain what she would do. To 
 the surprise of both, she smiled suddenly a 
 queer, puzzling smile and, rising, bent her 
 head in assent. " Yes, I will go," she said. 
 
 Five minutes later, Tyndale and herself 
 were walking round the terrace alone. The 
 long shadows of afternoon were stretching 
 across the greensward of the park ; the gold- 
 en sunshine, slanting through the brown 
 trunks of the trees, had a mellow glory in it 
 that serene, pathetic glory which ever 
 dwells in the close of a summer day. Some- 
 thing of this look seemed to rest on Norah's 
 face and in Norah's eyes when she turned at 
 last to her companion. 
 
 " Why did you ask me to come with you ? " 
 she said, coldly, but more gently than she had 
 spoken to him yet. " Did I not tell you that 
 we were to be as strangers to each other ? " 
 
 "And has not even a stranger the right to 
 ask you to walk around a terrace, to look at 
 a flower-garden ? " said he, with a thrill of
 
 A PRIVATE INTERVIEW. 
 
 89 
 
 passion hi his voice. "Stranger though I 
 may be to you, Norah exiled forever from 
 your heart, infinitely less to you than these 
 men whom I have hated for being at your side 
 all day can I not even venture to do that ? " 
 
 "No," answered she, with quick hauteur. 
 " You cannot even venture to do that, and so 
 I would have showed you, without an instant's 
 hesitation, if I had not desired to speak to you 
 to say a few words which must be uttered 
 in private." 
 
 " I am ready to hear them," said he, quiet- 
 ly, " more than ready to hear any thing the 
 worst thing you can have to say to me ! 
 Even the worst is better than not to hear your 
 voice or meet your eyes at all ! " 
 
 "You will not be likely to intoxicate my 
 brain, or to disarm my judgment, by such com- 
 monplace flattery as that, Mr. Tyndale," said 
 she, contemptuously. " Instead, you may in- 
 jure your cause more than you know by words 
 which are gratuitous insults to me." 
 
 "They are truth, Xorah, if the truth is an 
 insult," said he, passionately. Then he stopped 
 suddenly and looked into her face. " My God, 
 what a mad fool I have been ! " he said. " Do 
 you think I do not realize that now? Do you 
 think I can look at you that I can catch a 
 glimpse of your face, that I can hear a tone of 
 your voice without remembering the old, 
 happy days at Baden? As you stand there 
 now the terrace, the trees, your attitude all 
 recall that evening when, coming down from 
 the castle, we paused on one of the terraces 
 of the mountain, and I told you how I had 
 learned to love you. Norah, have you for- 
 gotten?" 
 
 " I remember many things which you might 
 be pardoned for wishing that I should forget," 
 answered she. " But you must have forgotten 
 very much before you could dare to talk like 
 this to me Norah Desmond ! " 
 
 The lone in which she uttered her own 
 name, the manner in which she drew herself 
 up, in all the stateliness of her superb stat- 
 ure, would have befitted a princess rather than 
 a young person of very questionable Bohemian 
 descent ; but Arthur Tyndale remembered this 
 haughty pride of old; and he remembered, 
 also, that it would have fared ill with any 
 man who ventured to disregard it. In those 
 days of which he had spoken he had known 
 more than enough of the bitter school in which 
 Norah had gained her armor; and he knew, 
 likewise, how well it had serve-! her in the 
 
 scenes and associations among which her life 
 had been spent. 
 
 "Forgive me!" he said, humbly. "I 
 meant to do any thing sooner than insult or 
 offend you. I am too glad to have even a min- 
 ute, in which to speak to you alone, to be will- 
 ing to shorten it by a second. But I cannot 
 Norah, it is impossible I cannot forget the 
 past." 
 
 "Is it necessary for you to forget the past, 
 Mr. Tyndale?" asked she, with the mockery, 
 which had so greatly exasperated him in 
 their first interview, in her eyes, and on her 
 tongue. " When one is able to ignore a thing 
 as completely as you have done when one is 
 emancipated from all trammels of honor or 
 faith when one is free from all embarrass- 
 ment attending a plighted word why should 
 it be necessary to forget the past ? " 
 
 " Norah," he said, turning pale, and speak- 
 ing with lips which fairly quivered, " for God's 
 sake, spare me ! I am not fit to cope with 
 you I never was, for that matter but now I 
 can only feel that I have ruined all.the happi- 
 ness of my life, and that I I have no one to 
 blame for it but myself! " 
 
 " No one to blame but yourself ! " repeated 
 Norah, the merciless. " Do you blame your- 
 self, Mr. Tyndale ? I should never have fan- 
 cied such a thing for a moment. I was sure, 
 on the contrary, that you praised and glorified 
 yourself for having displayed a great deal of 
 worldly acumen. Will you tell me," said she, 
 changing her tone suddenly, " what you mean 
 by all these innuendoes ? Why do you blame 
 yourself, and for what ? It is too late to think 
 of your honor, I should imagine, and I scarce- 
 ly suppose that even your vanity could make 
 you fancy that my happiness is in jeopardy." 
 
 " Your happiness ! " repeated he. " No. I 
 see plainly that your happiness has passed be- 
 yond my reach forever. I am selfish, as I 
 have been from the first, Norah I think only 
 of myself. It is of my happiness that I have 
 made utter shipwreck." 
 
 There was a minute's silence a minute in 
 which he felt that Norah's unflinching eyes 
 were reading him through and through. It 
 chanced that they had paused immediately in 
 front of the library; and, if either of them 
 had noticed, just then, a slight rustle would 
 have been heard in one of the windows be- 
 hind them if they had glanced around, they 
 might have seen a shadow which advanced, 
 hesitated, then quickly retreated
 
 90 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 "Again I say that you must tell me ex- 
 plicitly what you mean, Mr. Tyndale," said 
 N orah, imperiously. " More may depend on 
 it than you imagine. Do you wish me to un- 
 derstand that you do not love Leslie, and that 
 you are pleased to imagine again that you do 
 love me ? " 
 
 " I mean," said he, recklessly, " that I 
 have made a desperate and a terrible mistake 
 that I do not love Leslie ; and that, with all 
 the power of my soul, I do love you ! " 
 
 After this declaration, there was another 
 minute's silence a minute in which Norah 
 looked at him with a scorn, impossible to de- 
 scribe, kindling on her face." 
 
 "And these are the creatures to whom we 
 give our hearts ! " she said, at length the 
 passionate cadence of her voice thrilling like 
 music on the still air. "We let such men as 
 this take our love and make a plaything of it ! 
 Have you no honor? " cried she, turning upon 
 him with sudden, scorching passion. "Are 
 you true to nothing to nobody? Are you 
 more unstable than water, more shifting than 
 sand? Or do you think that you will find in 
 me the weak and contemptible material of the 
 woman who allows herself to serve for amuse- 
 ment twice ? " 
 
 " I only think " he began, as passionate- 
 ly as herself. 
 
 But, at this moment, there came a sudden 
 crash in the window behind, which made them 
 both start and turn the blood rushing guilt- 
 ily to their faces, their pulses throbbing with 
 a quick alarm. If Leslie 
 
 But, instead of Leslie, it was Mrs. Sandford, 
 who appeared in the window, holding up her 
 white hands, in playful deprecation, to Arthur. 
 
 " Mr. Tyndale," she cried, " are you 
 there ? can you ever forgive me ? I oh, I 
 am so sorry so very sorry ! In looking over 
 your book-shelves, I have been so miserably 
 unfortunate as to throw down this beautiful 
 pedestal, and break the bust of Dante." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " Oh, hadet thon always better thought of men, 
 Thou hadst then acted better. Curst suspicion ! 
 Unholy, miserable doubt ! To him 
 Nothing on earth remains unvrrenched and firm 
 Who has no faith." 
 
 AT eleven o'clock at night the night of 
 the day which had witnessed, among a million 
 
 or so other social transactions, the excursion 
 of Miss Grahame and her guests to Strafford 
 Arthur Tyndale was walking from Rosland 
 across the starlit fields in the direction of his 
 own domain. Strongly against his inclina- 
 tion, he had been obliged to return with the 
 party to dinner. Max had unequivocally de- 
 clined this pleasure ; but Max was a free man 
 and could do as he liked, despite Mrs. Sand- 
 ford's appealing glances. Arthur, on the oth- 
 er hand, was bound in the chains of one of 
 the most oppressive forms of bondage on this 
 earth of ours that of an "engaged" man. 
 However unexacting his fiancee may be and 
 singularly unexacting Leslie was society de- 
 mands certain observances and attentions 
 from the man who has entered into an en- 
 gagement of marriage, which not seldom weigh 
 with a most irksome weight on his spirit. 
 
 " You are coming with us, Arthur, arc you 
 not ? " Miss Grahame had said when they 
 took their departure; and Arthur who would 
 have given any thing to answer "No " stood 
 literally devoid of a decent excuse for doing 
 so. He could not say that the day had been 
 so oppressively wearisome that it had ren- 
 dered him unfit for any other social duty ; 
 still less could he say that, to be in Xorah's 
 society without any opportunity of obtaining 
 a word or even a glance from her, had grown 
 intolerable to him. The memory of other 
 days was with him all the time of days when 
 no one in the world had a right to come be- 
 tween them, when she was his, his only, his 
 forever, as he had thought, according to the 
 poor jargon in which we dress up our brief 
 fever-fits of fancy. 
 
 Now all this was changed. She was Carl's, 
 Max's, anybody's, rather than his and he 
 was engaged to Leslie Grahame. These were 
 two facts which stared him relentlessly in the 
 face, as he walked through tlie quiet, dewy 
 fields, watching the sinking, crescent moon, 
 while he smoked his cigar and pondered va- 
 rious things, profitable and otherwise. Chief 
 among the latter class were many thoughts 
 of Norah Desmond. He could not forget that 
 this woman, who stood as far from him now 
 as one of the planets journeying tranquilly 
 over his head, might, a year before, been his 
 wife at a word. It was in vain that he told 
 himself that things were much better as they 
 were ; that Leslie suited him incomparably 
 better than her brilliant Bohemian sister ever 
 could have done his heart, his fancy, his
 
 ARTHUR'S UNHAPPY POSITION. 
 
 91 
 
 passion, whatever was most concerned, said 
 " Nay" to it all. He felt in every fibre that 
 he was Norah's slave again that he had been 
 her slave ever since the moment she first 
 looked at him with her imperious eyes. 
 
 Yet this folly this sudden, reckless revi- 
 val of a passion which, for eighteen months, 
 had lain dormant and made no sign did not 
 blind his eyes to the position in which he 
 stood. Norah's cynicism was founded on 
 truth in one respect at least men are not 
 likely to play fast-and-loose with their plighted 
 word when it is passed to one of their own 
 order, to a woman supported by all that wealth 
 and position can give, however lightly they 
 may hold it where the daughter of a Macaire 
 is concerned. To disregard an engagement 
 with Norah Desmond was one thing, to break 
 an engagement with Leslie Grahame quite 
 another. Mr. Tyndale fully recognized the 
 distinction which made this difference. 
 
 So it was that his reflections went much 
 in a circle, like a vicious syllogism. Norah 
 and Leslie, Leslie and Norah ; the terrace at 
 Baden and the terrace at Stratford made a 
 strange medley in hJs mind, as he walked 
 slowly through wood and field ; and when, 
 after having smoked half a dozen cigars, he 
 found himself at last at the door of Strafford, 
 he was still unable to perceive any ray of 
 light illuminating the predicament in which 
 he found himself. " I'll see Max, anyhow ! " 
 he thought. Max had come to fill very much 
 the position of a moral bolster to Mr. Tyn- 
 dale's wavering desires and resolutions. 
 
 But when he mounted to Max's room 
 from which a light was streaming out on the 
 summer night he found it deserted. A fresh 
 breeze was blowing through the open win- 
 dows, and tossing over a number of loose 
 papers on a table in the centre of the floor, 
 but the deep leathern chair beside the table, 
 in which Max had evidently been lounging, 
 was empty. Into this chair Arthur flung him- 
 selfresting his head against the back, and 
 closing his eyes wearily. He would wait for 
 his cousin, he thought, feeling literally inca- 
 pable of any further exertion in the way of 
 search, just then. To employ his own phrase, 
 he was "dead beat" by the listless wander- 
 ings and various emotions of the day. It had 
 been, from first to last, not only a bore, but 
 something much worse than a bore to him. 
 He had been full of intense weariness and 
 passionate jealousy both at once, combined 
 
 with the absolute necessity of showing nei- 
 ther ; and the overwrought strain consequent 
 upon this state of affairs, had caused his in- 
 sane outbreak of the afternoon. What harm 
 he had done himself by this outbreak he could 
 not as yet determine. Though he could not 
 drive the memory of N-orah's last words or 
 Norah's last looks from his memory, he felt 
 that it was impossible to pause and weigh 
 them in their practical bearing. His head 
 was not cool enough for such work. Max, 
 now, might very readily be capable of it, but 
 the very last thing in the world which Arthur 
 thought of doing, was of telling the story of 
 his folly to Max. He knew his cousin's par- 
 tisanship for Leslie Grahame, and his cousin's 
 stern ideas of honor, too well to venture upoa 
 such a recital. 
 
 It may be imagined, perhaps, that the 
 thought of having been overheard by Mrs. 
 Sandford who had so unexpectedly an- 
 nounced her presence in the library-window 
 was a trifle the reverse of pleasant, and 
 added another complication to those already 
 thickening around him. But there are some 
 fortunate people in the world who, with re- 
 gard to all matters not absolutely certain, are 
 able to believe just what they wish to believe. 
 Probability is for them tinged entirely with 
 the color of their own needs and desires. 
 Conscience itself readily becomes their ad- 
 vocate. To this class, Arthur Tyndale be- 
 longed. It was not convenient to him to in- 
 troduce another element of annoyance into 
 the troublesome imbroglio in which he found 
 himself therefore he chose to ignore the 
 probability that Mrs. Sandford had overheard 
 any thing of what passed on the terrace. 
 Her presence in the library was, as she had 
 explained, a mere accident. She had just 
 come in she could have heard nothing she 
 had evidently been entirely unaware of the 
 near neighborhood of any one else. All this 
 he believed, because it suited him to believe 
 it. There are many people in the world who 
 are unable to give any better reason for much 
 more important creeds. 
 
 So, going over the same tread-mill of ex- 
 asperating thought, he yawned and waited, 
 and waited and yawned, half an hour for Max. 
 But, even at the end of half an hour, Max 
 had not appeared. 
 
 " What the deuce keeps the fellow ? " 
 Arthur thought, impatiently. 
 
 Just then a fresher breeze than any which
 
 92 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 had gone before swept into the room, waving 
 back the curtains, making the flame of the 
 lamp flicker, and scattering broadcast over 
 the floor the already fluttering papers on the 
 table. 
 
 " He'll find his things in fine confusion 
 when he does come ! " thought the visitor, 
 lazily. 
 
 But it did not occur to him to remedy 
 this confusion by recapturing any of the odds 
 and ends which were wafted past him. On 
 the contrary, he watched them with indolent 
 interest as they were blown to and fro into 
 the nooks and corners some into the fire- 
 place, some under the bed until, glancing 
 back to the table, his eye suddenly lighted 
 upon a letter which lay there idly fluttering 
 as if uncertain whether or not to follow its 
 companions. 
 
 As his glance fell on it, he started vio- 
 lently. His complexion flushed, and then 
 paled again; he caught his breath audibly. 
 Blotted and blurred though it was, he recog- 
 nized in an instant Norah Desmond's writing. 
 
 For a minute amazement held him literally 
 motionless. As he sat, gazing stupidly at the 
 familiar characters for to mistake that bold, 
 black chirography for the writing of any 
 other woman would have been as impossible 
 as to mistake Norah herself for a fashionable 
 nonentity from a boarding-school a dozen 
 wild thoughts and conjectures rnshed into 
 his mind. What was the meaning of it ? 
 How did such a letter come to be here? Had 
 it been addressed to Max ? Were they either, 
 or both of them, playing Aim (Tyndale) false ? 
 Was it a flirtation? Was it a negotiation? 
 His brain felt in a whirl. One thing only 
 was certain : whatever it was, it concerned 
 him vitally, and he must know what it meant. 
 There was no time for scruples or wire-drawn 
 notions of honor when he was being deceived 
 and tricked like tins ! Had not Max, that 
 very morning, assured him that his inter- 
 course with Norah had been entirely unsatis- 
 factory, as well as very slighy and now, here 
 on Max's table, lay a letter which in itself 
 went far to prove such a statement utterly un- 
 true! 
 
 " I could not have believed it of him ! " 
 Arthur thought, aghast at the gulf of perfidy 
 which yawned before him. His indignation 
 amounted, indeed, to a sense of absolute out- 
 rage a curious fact, which those will readily 
 credit who have observed what a different 
 
 standard in love* friendship, faith, or general 
 morality, we have for our friends and for our- 
 selves. We gracefully stretch the truth to 
 meet the pressure of any necessity which 
 may arise ; ive govern our conduct by the 
 strictest rule of expediency ; we allow our- 
 selves the widest latitude in every possible 
 respect, and demand that no evil shall be 
 thought but, if we have the slightest reason 
 to suspect that others are doing unto us as 
 we have done unto them, disgust and misan- 
 thropy are very sure to follow. " This is hu- 
 man nature ! " we cry, when we detect in one 
 falsehood the agreeable friend to whom we 
 have probably told a dozen. " This is affec- 
 tion, this is friendship ! Oh, who would put 
 faith in either ? " So it was with Tyndale. 
 He had felt toward Max as toward a brother; 
 he had trusted Max Avith every thing; and 
 now for Max to deceive him on such a vital 
 point as this ! 
 
 But he must read the letter. He must 
 know how far he had been deceived, how far 
 betrayed. No doubt it contained some definite 
 assurance of what Norah meant to do. It 
 was imperative that he 1 should gain this as- 
 surance at any cost. He repeated again that 
 it was no time for scruples or hesitation. He 
 was being deceived, and in self-defense he 
 must know in what manner and in what de- 
 gree. 
 
 So, nerving himself to an act from which 
 every instinct even of conventional honor 
 shrank, he at last extended his hand and 
 took up the letter a letter which seemed 
 destined to be the plaything alike of chance 
 and of the winds of heaven and opened it. 
 The first line told him that it was not ad- 
 dressed to Max. Before he had time to rend 
 a second, he heard Max's quick, ringing step 
 in the hall below. 
 
 It was the work of an instant to fold the 
 sheet of paper and slip it into the breast- 
 pocket of his coat. There was no time for 
 thought or deliberation. Impulse said, " It 
 is as much yours as his take it!" and he 
 followed the dictate of impulse. Before Cap- 
 tain Tyndale had mounted the stairs and 
 reached the door, he had thrown himself 
 back, and was shading his eyes from the light, 
 as if half asleep. 
 
 " What ! you here ? " said the former, in 
 a tone of surprise, as he entered. " When 
 did you get back from Rosland ? " 
 
 "At least half an hour ago," answered
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S REPORT. 
 
 93 
 
 Arthur, starting as if abruptly roused. "I 
 have been waiting for you until I had almost 
 given you up. Where the deuce have you 
 been all this time ? " 
 
 " Taking a turn in the park to cool my 
 head," answered Max. "I suppose it is our 
 unusual gayety which has upset it; but I 
 found myself amazingly warm and restless in 
 the house." 
 
 " It is warm again ; but I should think 
 you would have rowed off all inclination to 
 restlessness to-day." 
 
 " I did very little rowing, except when I 
 took Mrs. Sandford out ; then I was anxious 
 to bring her back as soon as possible." 
 
 " You did bring her back very quickly," 
 said Arthur, in rather an injured tone. " It 
 could not have been an hour after I left her 
 on the lake when, to my surprise, she was 
 smashing Dante in the library." 
 
 " Yes, I made short work of it," said the 
 other, complacently. " Rather shorter work 
 than she took to be civil, I fancy ; for, while 
 I was fastening the boat, she started off to 
 the house by herself, and, since I was not 
 particularly anxious to overtake her, we did 
 not meet again till after the Dante calamity. 
 I suppose when she came in she thought she 
 would do a little exploring on her own ac- 
 count." 
 
 " Confound her ! " said Arthur, with the 
 most sincere emphasis. Then conscious 
 that he was verging on dangerous ground 
 he went on hurriedly, lest this subject might 
 lead to some inquiry with regard to Norah 
 and himself: ''You see I have been taking 
 life easily while I waited for you," he said, 
 " though you needn't think it is I who have 
 been playing the mischief with your papers. 
 The wind served you that trick, and I was 
 too lazy to set things to rights." 
 
 " It is not a matter of any importance," 
 said Max, casting a careless glance at his 
 scattered effects. " You have returned soon," 
 he added, leaning back in his chair, and cov- 
 ering a yawn by pulling his long mustache. 
 
 " Soon, do you call it ? It can't be less 
 than twelve o'clock." 
 
 " And isn't that soon for a summer night, 
 with stars, and bright eyes, and all that sort 
 of thing to keep you awake ? " 
 
 "The bright eyes were looking rather 
 sleepy when I left Rosland. I don't think 
 we can flatter ourselves that our fishing-party 
 was very much of a success, Max." 
 
 " I never flattered myself for a moment 
 that it would be, my dear fellow," answered 
 Max, cheerfully. 
 
 " And yet," said Arthur, quickly, " it 
 ought to have been a success in one respect 
 at least. You certainly had a sufficient op- 
 portunity to-day for finding out something 
 about Norah's intentions." 
 
 " To possess an opportunity and to use it 
 arc two very different things. I am sure you 
 are aware of that." 
 
 " You mean, then, that you did not dis- 
 cover any thing ? " 
 
 " I mean that my attempt to do so was 
 rewarded with very little success. Miss Des- 
 mond was as reticent as ever, and I was un- 
 able to extract any thing at all definite from 
 her." 
 
 " That was unfortunate ! " said Arthur. 
 The other did not notice the sudden jarring 
 tone in his voice, nor the suspicious look in 
 his eyes. " You know nothing, then, of 
 what her intentions are?" he added, after a 
 minute, endeavoring with only tolerable suc- 
 cess to keep all significance out of the inquiry. 
 
 " Nothing," answered Max, slowly, " ex- 
 cept " He paused just there and hesitated. 
 
 " If your exception does not rest under 
 the seal of confidence, pray don't hesitate on 
 my account," said Arthur. "I can credit 
 Miss Desmond with any degree of resentful 
 feeling and resentful determination to avenge 
 her wrongs." 
 
 " You will credit her with something, 
 then, of which I have seen no sign," answered 
 Max, glancing with some surprise at him. 
 " I was about to say though I beg you to 
 understand that I have received no pledge to 
 such an effect that I think it likely Miss 
 Desmond may be more generous than you 
 anticipate." 
 
 " Generous ! " a flush came over the 
 handsome, blond face. " That is an indefi- 
 nite expression at best. What does it stand 
 for? That she will bind herself to say noth- 
 ing of the past, and that she will deliver up 
 the letters ? " 
 
 " No. She binds herself to nothing. You 
 must be as well aware as I am that you are in 
 no position to demand that she should do so." 
 
 " The upshot of the matter then is that 
 she is to be bound to nothing, and that 7am 
 to remain entirely at her mercy ? " 
 
 " I am afraid it is not much more than 
 that," said Captain Tyndale, gravely.
 
 94 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 " By Heaven, I will not endure it ! " said 
 the other, vehemently. " Max, do you mean 
 to tell me that this is all that you have been 
 able to obtain from her ? " 
 
 " It is all," answered Max, a little coldly. 
 " But, unless you deliberately go to work to 
 injure your own cause, I do not think that 
 you have very much to fear. She is a proud 
 woman, and a generous woman, this Norah 
 Desmond." 
 
 " Do you imagine that you know her bet- 
 ter than I do ? " asked Arthur, sneeringly. 
 " It is true you spent three hours alone in 
 her society to-day ; but the character that 
 Norah Desmond shows you when she means 
 to make a fool of you, and the character she 
 shows you after she has made a fool of you, 
 are two very different things." 
 
 "Miss Desmond is not likely to waste her 
 ammunition on me," was the dry response. 
 "You may set your mind at rest on that 
 point. As for the three hours which I spent 
 in her society, they were chiefly spent in your 
 service. As far as I was concerned, I should 
 have preferred a cigar under a pine-tree." 
 
 " And yet you accomplished nothing ? " 
 
 "If you call it nothing to have gained a 
 moral certainty that she will give you no 
 trouble ; that you may marry Miss Grahame 
 to-morrow without any fear of what she may 
 do or say." 
 
 Arthur winced a little at this assurance. 
 Max would have been still more surprised if 
 he could have seen how very little inclina- 
 tion he felt just then to marry Leslie Gr'a- 
 harne, with all her sweetness and all her 
 grace, on the next day, or any other day, for 
 that matter. 
 
 " Moral certainties don't count for much," 
 he said, after a minute. " I'd rather have 
 one proof that she means it." 
 
 " I am sorry to say I have no proof to offer. 
 An ambassador's word should be worth some- 
 thing, however, shouldn't it? I have no rea- 
 son for deceiving you." 
 
 " For deceiving me no ! But you may 
 be mistaken." 
 
 " True enough. I advance no claim to in- 
 fallibility especially with regard to women." 
 
 " Still, you think that she means to let 
 the matter rest ? " 
 
 " I think so, undoubtedly," answered 
 Max, impatiently. He did not understand 
 the drift of these reiterated questions. It 
 was growing late, he was growing tired, and 
 
 when he felt like yawning again he did so, 
 without any pretense of pulling his mustache. 
 
 Arthur took the hint, and rose. 
 
 " I see you feel as thoroughly used up as I 
 do," said he ; " therefore I'll leave you to turn 
 in. In fact, I owe you an apology for having 
 kept you up so long. But this cursed busi- 
 ness dwells on my mind ! I don't believe 
 there ever was a man in such a position be- 
 fore ! You've done your best for me, how- 
 ever, Max I see that plainly and shall not 
 forget it. I am more grateful than you can 
 tell especially for your assurance but, if I 
 fail to give exactly your degree of credit to it, 
 it is because I have the advantage of knowing 
 Norah Desmond better than you do." 
 
 " I make no pretensions whatever to know- 
 ing Miss Desmond very well," Max answered. 
 And so they parted. 
 
 When Arthur went to his own room, his 
 first act was to lock the door although the 
 danger of interruption was infinitesimally 
 small his second, to take the letter from his 
 pocket and read it eagerly through, from be- 
 ginning to end. As he did so, his face would 
 have been a study for any observer of human 
 nature and human physiognomy of whom, 
 however, there was unfortunately none at 
 hand. The color came and went in vivid al- 
 ternations of red and white ; his lips quivered, 
 and now and then he gnawed the under one 
 nervously. All these were significant signs 
 with him. Once he caught his breath with 
 the quick gasp of a man to whom a startling 
 surprise has come. This was when he found 
 that Norah had learned in what manner he 
 had endeavored to deter Leslie from making 
 any attempt to know her. " She'll never for- 
 give that!" he muttered. "It's certain to be 
 a duel to the death now ! " 
 
 Then he went on, his eye traveling down 
 line after line of the paragraph in which she 
 summed up the various items of her debt 
 against him. Even the written words seemed 
 instinct with the passion which had dictated 
 them. He seemed to hear her voice, to meet 
 her eyes, in every sentence. And, when he 
 reached the climax, in which her fiery energy 
 spent itself when he read the significant 
 words, dashed out broad and black upon the 
 white paper, in which she declared that, after 
 having added up the debt, she felt constrained 
 to ask what reprisal could ever equal it, his 
 eyes remained fastened on the page for a full 
 minute, as if fascinated.
 
 SUSPICIONS OF TREACHERY. 
 
 95 
 
 Then suddenly he flung the letter on the 
 table, by which he had been standing, and, 
 turning away, walked across the room. He 
 felt stunned as if he had been thrown down 
 suddenly by an unexpected hand. Such vin- 
 dictive passion, such scornful renunciation, 
 was worse than he had expected worse even 
 than he had feared but, what surprised him 
 even more than the spirit here displayed, than 
 all of Norah's anger, or Norah's resentment, 
 was the apparently causeless duplicity of Max. 
 With this letter in his possession, he had not 
 hesitated to say that he had a " moral certain- 
 ty " of Miss Desmond's intention to ignore the 
 past ! With the assertion before his eyes that 
 there was no reprisal great enough to repay 
 her debt, he had talked of her generosity, and 
 given hopes nay, positive assurances that 
 sh? had relinquished all idea of using the pow- 
 er which rested in her hands ! 
 
 " What a lesson against trusting any- 
 body ! " Tyndale thought, coming back to the 
 table, and looking at the letter, which lay be- 
 fore him. "No doubt she has turned his 
 head, and won him completely over to her 
 side. I might have expected that. I might 
 have known that would be her first move. 
 And yet Max I did not think there wus the 
 woman in the world who could have made 
 Max act like this ! But treachery is a thing 
 which must be expected from everybody who 
 is not tied fast by interest to one's cause," he 
 went on, after a minute's pause. "Good 
 Heavens ! how wise I was to take this letter ! 
 how entirely, hereafter, I must rely on my- 
 self alone ! She had plainly determined to 
 throw me off my guard by insinuating such 
 vague assurances as I received to-night, and 
 then to fire the whole thing upon me when I 
 ;im least expecting it. Well" folding up 
 the letter with a defiant air, and placing it in 
 his pocket-book " we shall see ! The battle 
 is opened in earnest now, and it will go hard 
 with me if I cannot even yet outwit this 
 shrewd schemer and her new ally ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " A lie -which is all a lie may be met and fought 
 
 with outright, 
 
 But a lie which is part of a truth is a harder mat- 
 ter to fijiht." 
 
 THE morning after the fishing-party at 
 Strafford, Captain Tyndale walked over to 
 
 Rosland. It was such a rare thing for him to 
 make his appearance so early in the day the 
 morning being usually esteemed sacred to 
 Arthur that Mrs. Middlcton could not re- 
 strain an involuntary expression of surprise 
 when he was shown into the drawing-room, 
 where she chanced to be sitting alone. 
 
 " I hope I do not intrude upon you at a 
 barbarous hour," he said, apologetically, as 
 he crossed the floor to her favorite alcove, 
 where, with a desk open, she was inditing a 
 letter, with a gold pen, on the palest sea-green 
 paper. "I came over to inquire how the 
 ladies are after their fatigue of yesterday. 
 Better, I hope, than Arthur, who really seems 
 considerably the worse for his dissipation, 
 this morning." 
 
 " Indeed ! I am very sorry to hear it," 
 said Mrs. Middleton, in the highly-sympathetic 
 tone in which people usually say such things. 
 " But I thought the excursion a very impru- 
 dent one for everybody concerned. The sun 
 this time of year is exceedingly injurious, 
 and then the dampness but I am glad to say 
 that nobody seems the worse for it here. 
 They were fatigued last night, but this morn- 
 ing they are all much as usual. I hope Mr. 
 Tyndale's indisposition is not serious?"' 
 
 "Oh, not at all. He complains of a head- 
 ache, and of having been a little feverish last 
 night. It is nothing much, I fancy, but I 
 recommended him to keep out of the sun." 
 
 '' Yes, that is the great point," said Mrs. 
 Middleton, earnestly everybody has a hob- 
 by, and her hobby was, that an ounce of pre- 
 vention is worth many pounds of cure, with 
 regard to sickness. "People talk of the 
 night air being unwholesome on account of 
 malaria, but / always think that whoever is 
 careful to keep out of the sun is sure to do 
 very well. I sleep with my windows open 
 every night, but I never go out in the sun, and 
 I have not had an attack of fever in fifteen 
 years. If you don't take care, Captain Tyn- 
 dale, you will be ill," she went on, as if 
 moved by a sudden impulse to utter a word 
 of seasonable warning. " You are not used 
 to our climate, and I think the manner in 
 which Mr. Tyndale and yourself walk over 
 here in the broiling sun, without even an um- 
 brella" 
 
 " But you forget, madame," said Max, 
 laughing he showed his French breeding in 
 always snying " madame," instead of our 
 curt English " madam " " that a soldier
 
 96 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 never carries an umbrella. He would rather 
 a thousand times endure death by a coup dc 
 soleil than be guilty of any thing so opposed 
 to the spirit of military discipline. I flatter 
 myself I know something about your climate. 
 If it means to kill me, it ought to have done 
 so while I was marching some years ago in 
 your army. It will not have such another 
 opportunity soon." 
 
 " Things never come when we are expect- 
 ing them," said Mrs. Middleton, shaking her 
 head. 
 
 And, as if to point this oracular remark, 
 a vision arrayed in purple and white the 
 first below, the latter above, according to the 
 present fashion of piebald costume whom 
 they were neither of them expecting, ap- 
 peared just then in the open door. 
 
 " Captain Tyndale ! " cried Mrs. Sand- 
 ford, with a start, " is it possible this is you ? 
 I had no idea that you were here ! " Kobert 
 had only informed her of the fact five minutes 
 before " I came down-stairs in search of a 
 book. I found" (appealing with infantine 
 blue eyes to Mrs. Middleton) " that I really 
 could not force myself to write my letters. 
 Why can we not telegraph to our friends ? " 
 (this to Max). " If we say ' I am well how 
 are you ? ' it would be all that is neces- 
 sary." 
 
 " Not quite all, I am afraid," answered he, 
 advancing and taking the hand she offered 
 him with bewitching frankness. " If I were 
 fortunate enough to receive one of your tele- 
 grams, I could scarcely content myself with 
 an equally terse reply. I should be con- 
 strained to add that I kissed your hands, at 
 least." 
 
 " But what would be the sense of doing 
 by telegraph what you never did in fact?" 
 asked she, with admirable naivete. 
 
 " Then, in view of future telegraphing 
 contingencies, we had better make it fact at 
 once," said he, raising the hand a very pretty 
 one, which he still held to his lips. 
 
 Mrs. Sandford did what a foolish woman 
 does on all possible occasions she laughed ; 
 Mrs. Middleton looked as if she was not ex- 
 actly certain what she thought of such con- 
 duct ; but Max was so thoroughly at his ease, 
 and so evidently meant his act of gallantry to 
 be regarded in the light of something entirely 
 conventional and free from tender signifi- 
 cance, that after a moment she laughed, too. 
 
 "Captain Tyndale is initiating you into 
 
 foreign modes of salutation," she said to Mrs. 
 Sandford. 
 
 " What an original you are ! " said that 
 lady, surveying Captain Tyndale with a glance 
 of manifest approval. " A thing that most 
 men do in a corner, and look foolish and 
 sentimental over, you do in broad daylight and 
 before anybody, with the utmost sang-froid." 
 
 " It is because we regard the matter from 
 different points of view," said he. " One 
 kisses a lady's hand in France as one shakes 
 it here." 
 
 "I confess that this universal habit of 
 shaking hands strikes me very unpleasantly," 
 said Mrs. Middleton. " It proves more con- 
 clusively than any thing else the free-and- 
 easy tone which has come over society. The 
 idea of a young lady and a young gentleman 
 greeting each other like a pair of school- 
 boys ! In my day people knew how to bow a 
 thing which they seem to have entirely for- 
 gotten now and a lady never shook hands 
 with any but her most intimate acquaint- 
 ances." 
 
 " I am heartily glad that was not my 
 day!" said Mrs. Sandford, enthroning her- 
 self on a sofa, and looking up with blue-china 
 ej es at Max. " Fancy living like a set of 
 pokers ! I know how to bow, too in the 
 lancers but I would rather shake hands any 
 day ! " 
 
 " So should I," said he, sitting down be- 
 side her as she invited him to do by draw- 
 ing her drapery aside " provided I might 
 choose the hands to shake." 
 
 "But under any circumstances you would 
 rather kiss them, I suppose." 
 
 " Infinitely rather, if they are like yours." 
 
 " What a flatterer you are ! " cried she, 
 fluttering her fan with delight. 
 
 " A flatterer because I have eyes to see 
 that your hands are beautiful? You have 
 eyes yourself, and you can't possibly think 
 that." 
 
 In this key the conversation proceeded 
 for ten minutes. Mrs. Middleton went back 
 to her letter philosophically. She had seen 
 enough of modern society to be little sur- 
 prised by any thing which could be said or 
 done by the most advanced thinkers. As for 
 Max, let that man who has never yielded to 
 the demands for admiration and the invitation 
 to folly held out by a pretty, vain woman, 
 throw the first stone at him. Partly to please 
 his companion, partly to amuse himself, he
 
 THE LOST BRACELET. 
 
 97 
 
 went on heaping Pelion upon Ossa in the way 
 of compliments, until at last having ex- 
 hausted his invention it occurred to him to 
 ask where Miss Grahame and Miss Desmond 
 were. 
 
 " Leslie drove, after breakfast, to Wexford, 
 to do some shopping," Mrs. Sandford answered, 
 " and Miss Desmond went with her. I really 
 could not think of going ! It is too horribly 
 warm ! " 
 
 " Mr. Carl Middleton went with them, I 
 suppose? " 
 
 "No" (with a quick glance to see why 
 he had asked the question). "I have no 
 doubt he would have liked to do so for it is 
 really quite absurd to see how he is infatu- 
 ated with Miss Desmond but his uncle in- 
 sisted on his going with him to pay a visit to 
 some relation in the neighborhood. What a 
 bore relations are, are they not ? " 
 
 " Sometimes," answered Max, absently. 
 He looked down on the hideous figures that 
 covered a Japanese fan in his hand. He was 
 thinking that he was glad Norah and Leslie 
 were for once alone. It would give them an 
 opportunity to know each other better ; it 
 would give the former, in especial, an oc- 
 casion to test her sister's feelings with re- 
 gard to Arthur Tyndale, to judge whether or 
 not he had been right in the opinion which he 
 had expressed, and the course he had urged. 
 
 Mrs. Sandford caught the preoccupied tone 
 in his voica, and immediately set it down to 
 the fact that he had just heard of Miss Des- 
 mond's absence. Had he, then, come to see 
 her? Instinctively the lady's mind went 
 back to that three hours' absence on the lake 
 yesterday the absence which had been no 
 more satisfactorily explained by Max than by 
 Norah. Now, it may be said, once for all, 
 that the pretty widow had no tendresse, likely 
 to lead to tragedy or despair, for Captain 
 Tyndale ; but she was a woman insatiably 
 fond of admiration, a woman who grasped at 
 all opportunities for obtaining it, and relin- 
 quished none. In Alton society Max had 
 been something of a lion; in Alton society, 
 also, he had been credited to her, if not ex- 
 actly as a serious conquest, still as one of 
 the admirers whom she always liked to keep 
 fluttering around her men whom she did 
 not wish or intend to marry, but with whom 
 it was very good pastime to flirt. She had 
 found it such very good pastime to flirt with 
 a French chasseur albeit the advances were 
 
 mostly on her own side that she had come 
 down to Rosland simply to pursue that amuse- 
 ment, and, if possible, to " break the poor 
 man's heart " in the course of a few idle, 
 summer weeks. It was a disappointment, 
 therefore, that the poor man evinced very 
 little desire to have his heart broken, even in 
 the most scientific manner. This she saw 
 sufficiently soon, and with sufficient plain- 
 ness ; but it is not in feminine nature even 
 of the most dove-like kind to relinquish a 
 possible, probable, or positive admirer with- 
 out a struggle. Mrs. Sandford perceived, or 
 thought she perceived, that Max had serious 
 intentions of deserting her standard for that 
 of the beautiful Bohemian, who had already 
 secured the only other eligible admirer in the 
 field, so she made up her mind to show him 
 at once what kind of a game this beautiful 
 Bohemian was playing. 
 
 Max, still absorbed in the contempla- 
 tion of his fan, and still thinking of what 
 might be going on at that moment in Miss 
 Grahame's phaeton, was a little surprised 
 when a .golden head a head indebted to the 
 chemist rather than to Nature for its gold 
 was bent toward him, and a sweet voice said, 
 in a mysterious whisper : 
 
 "Make an excuse, please, for our going 
 out. I have something very important which 
 I must ask your advice about." Then aloud, 
 extending two wrists, slender and white 
 enough to match the hands already compli- 
 mented : " See how unlucky I have been ! I 
 lost one of my gold bands last night in the 
 shrubbery, and no one has been able to find 
 it yet. I am afraid no one will find it, though 
 I have offered fabulous rewards to all the 
 servants of the establishment. You don't 
 know how I should dislike to lose one of 
 these bands. They were poor Mr. Sandford's 
 last present to me, and therefore I wear them 
 all the time." 
 
 Max thought that if he had any intention 
 of succeeding poor Mr. Sandford, he should 
 hope devoutly that the band might remain 
 lost, and its fellow speedily follow it ; but, 
 since he had not the least aspiration that 
 way, he cheerfully proposed what its dis- 
 consolate owner plainly desired that they 
 should go in search of it. 
 
 " I always have wonderful luck," he said. 
 "I don't think I ever looked for any thing 
 that I did not find it ; I am sure that I never 
 laid a wager that I did not win it, nor sat
 
 98 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 down to a gaming-table without rising suc- 
 cessful." 
 
 44 Oh, you are just the person to find my 
 bracelet then ! " cried she, clapping her hands 
 in an artless fashion. "Let us go at once! 
 I shall not mind the sun at all, if you will 
 only wait until I get my hat and parasol." 
 
 As Max acceded to this moderate request, 
 she ran from the room in a tumult of enthu- 
 siasm which would have done credit to the 
 affectation of sixteen. 
 
 " How very excitable Mrs. Sandford is ! " 
 said Mrs. Middleton, arching her brows in a 
 manner more significant than many words, as 
 she looked up from the letter she had finished 
 and was folding. 
 
 " Very excitable indeed ! " answered Max, 
 dryly. Then he laughed, and added : " It is 
 constitutional with some people, I suppose." 
 
 The lady with whom excitement was con- 
 stitutional met him presently in the hall, ar- 
 rayed in a hat which seemed fashioned for 
 the especial purpose of affording no shade 
 whatever to the face, and armed with a club- 
 handled parasol, provided with fringe enough 
 to leave a little on the branches of every tree 
 and shrub in the grounds, and still have some 
 to spare. 
 
 Leaving the house, they took their way 
 directly to the shrubbery, where she proposed 
 to show him exactly the spot at which the 
 bracelet had been lost. 
 
 " If you know exactly the spot, we may 
 expect to find it lying on the ground," he 
 said. 
 
 " Oh, I fear I am not so exact as that," 
 answered she, shaking her head. " I looked 
 for it, and Mr. Middleton looked for it, and 
 my maid has spent the morning doing little 
 else, so I fear even your luck will scarcely be 
 equal to finding it. I should not have brought 
 you out into the sun simply on that account," 
 she added, " but you know I told you that I 
 wanted to ask your advice about something 
 very important." 
 
 "I remember, and I am all attention." 
 
 " Let us sit down here, then," pointing to 
 a garden-seat in a sufficiently shaded position 
 " I never can talk about any thing of par- 
 ticular interest when I am walking." 
 
 Max resigned himself to the situation 
 with as much grace as most men manage to 
 display in similar circumstances. He brushed 
 off the seat with his handkerchief, and they 
 sat down ; Mrs. Sandford arranged herself in 
 
 a picturesque attitude, unfurled her fan, and 
 lifted her eyes to his face. 
 
 " If you could only know what I feel !" 
 she began, with a deprecation calculated to 
 disarm any thing like harsh judgment or crit- 
 icism. 
 
 44 Is it absolutely necessary that I should 
 know ? " asked Max. He felt inclined to 
 laugh, only he knew that such an offense 
 would never be forgiven. There are some 
 natures to whom ridicule is the unpardon- 
 able sin. Already Mrs. Sandford looked at 
 him a little suspiciously. The tone of his 
 question did not please her. 
 
 44 It is not necessary," she answered, with 
 a serious gravity, calculated to check all lev- 
 ity her eyes so wide open that he began to 
 amuse himself with a speculation as to wheth- 
 er they could possibly expand any wider 
 ' But if you could know you would under- 
 stand the great reluctance I feel to saying any 
 thing even to you ; yet I am so uncertain 
 about what I ought to do, and I am so anx- 
 ious to do what is right " 
 
 (" What on earth does the woman mean ? " 
 thought Max. 4 ' Is she going to consult me 
 about her will or her marriage ? ") 
 
 " It was so purely accidental," pursued 
 she, dropping her eyes to her fan. " I had 
 so little idea not the least in the world, in 
 fact of any thing of the kind when I went 
 into the library, or no earthly consideration 
 would have induced me to go ! " 
 
 4< Can it be the Dante she is talking 
 about ? " thought Max, becoming more thor- 
 oughly puzzled every minute. Then aloud : 
 44 Really, Mrs. Sandford, I fear you will think 
 me very stupid, but I have not as yet grasped 
 your meaning at all. "What was it that you 
 had not the least idea of when you entered 
 the library ? " 
 
 41 That Mr. Tyndale and Miss Desmond 
 were on the terrace outside," answered she, 
 lifting her eyes again, and looking directly at 
 him. 
 
 And, whether it was on account of the 
 glance, or of the tone, or whether it was the 
 significance of the words themselves, it is at 
 least certain that Captain Tyndale started 
 with a quick, nervous motion, foreign to his 
 usual manner. Arthur and Miss Desmond 
 on the terrace outside ! What had this fool- 
 ish, fluttering widow overheard ? 
 
 41 Well," he said, trying to speak lightly, 
 and not achieving a very striking success,
 
 EAVESDROPPING. 
 
 99 
 
 " there was nothing remarkable in that fact, 
 was there ? Mr. Tyndale and Miss Desmond 
 had certainly a right to be on the terrace, 
 had they not ? " 
 
 " There was something very remarkable, 
 I think," answered she, with marked empha- 
 sis. " You would have thought so, too, if 
 you had overheard the declaration which I 
 in the most accidental manner in the world 
 overheard Mr. Tyndale make before I had 
 been in the library five minutes." 
 
 " A declaration ! " repeated Max. He put 
 up his hand to his mustache, which was a 
 very real and present help to him in times 
 of embarrassment. " There are a great many 
 different kinds of declarations," he added, 
 after a minute a very lame, and certainly 
 not a very brilliantly diplomatic conclusion. 
 
 " Certainly," said Mrs. Sandford, in a tone 
 of petulant satire, " I am perfectly well aware 
 of that. There are declarations of war and 
 declarations of peace, and declarations of 
 love. Mr. Tyudale's declaration, as it chanced, 
 belonged to the latter class." 
 
 " To declarations of love ! " repeated Max, 
 starting again. "You pardon me, but you 
 must be mistaken ! It is impossible ! " 
 
 " Unfortunately, it is so ! " said she, em- 
 phatically. " Never, in all my life, have I 
 heard a declaration made more plainly. He 
 said, as clearly as possible, that he had made 
 a great and terrible mistake, that he did not 
 love Leslie, and that he did love Miss Des- 
 mond passionately. That was his expression 
 passionately ! " 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Max. He was so taken 
 by storm, as it were, that for a minute he 
 forgot that he had any part to play, or any 
 secret to guard. His bronzed skin changed 
 color quickly, and the expanding flash of his 
 eye fairly startled' her. " Are you in ear- 
 nest ? " he asked, after a minute, and his 
 voice seemed to lower and quiet strangely. 
 " Did you hear Arthur say that ? " ^ 
 
 " Yes, I heard him say that exactly 
 that ! " answered she, gratified, according to 
 a curious instinct of human nature, at the 
 sensation she had caused. " But, indeed " 
 mindful of the special object she had in view 
 " I do not think one ought to blame Mr. 
 Tyndale very much. You men are so foolish ! 
 you will say any thing when a certain kind 
 of woman leads you on ! Now, although I 
 did not overhear very much " she did not 
 add that this was not her fault or her merit 
 
 " I heard enough to tell me that Miss Des- 
 mond had led him on." 
 
 " Are you sure of that ? " asked Max. He 
 looked at her keenly. Much as he distrusted 
 Norah, he just then distrusted this fair, im- 
 pulsive, silvery - tongued being still more. 
 " Did Miss Desmond exhibit no indignation 
 at such a declaration from a man who is en- 
 gaged to her sister ? " be added, after a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 Still wider opened the blue eyes, and the 
 carefully - darkened eyebrows arched them- 
 selves. 
 
 " Indignation ! I do not think Miss Des- 
 mond dreamed of such a thing, I am sure she 
 did not show it. I did not hear much more 
 than Mr. Tyndale's declaration, however, for 
 just then I unfortunately threw down the 
 Dante, and that ended the love-scene." 
 
 " The love-scene ! " repeated Max, sternly, 
 and his brows knit themselves into a quick 
 frown. " Do you mean that you can apply 
 such a term as that to any thing which took 
 place ? " 
 
 " I scarcely know what other term it 
 would be possible to apply. Romeo was not 
 more passionate than Mr. Tyndale, though 
 Miss Desmond seemed less demonstrative, 
 and struck me rather in the light of a person 
 who was playing a cool, steady game of some 
 kind." 
 
 " So she is ! " he muttered. 
 
 Those last words went further toward re- 
 moving his doubts of the story than any 
 thing else had done. They at least were 
 true. Norah was playing a cool, steady game, 
 of which not even he could flatter himself 
 that he saw the end. He could fancy just 
 how she had listened to Arthur's madness 
 the madness which had put everything which 
 he most wished to keep secret into the hands 
 of a " prying eavesdropper," as Captain Tyn- 
 dale did not hesitate to call his fair compan- 
 ion in the sacred recesses of his thoughts. 
 
 " It is very evident that Miss Desmond is 
 one of those women who cannot live without 
 the admiration and adulation of every man 
 they meet," said Mrs. Sandford, after a while, 
 in a virtuous tone. "But it is very strange 
 and very dreadful something I cannot under- 
 stand that she should desire to obtain the 
 affections and attentions of the man to whom 
 her sister is engaged ! " 
 
 " Such wavering affections are worth very 
 little ! " said Max, bitterly.
 
 100 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 " But, of course, Leslie would not feel 
 that way," answered she, eagerly. " And do 
 you know it is about that I wanted to consult 
 you shall I tell Leslie ? Of course, it would 
 be a very painful thing to do ; but still, if it 
 were right " 
 
 " Good Heavens, no ! " cried he, fairly 
 aghast. " It would be a terrible blow to come 
 upon her without any preparation. Let me 
 beg you most earnestly not to think of such a 
 thing ! " 
 
 " I will not indeed I will not ! " said she, 
 hastily. " I determined when I was consid- 
 ering the matter last night I really could not 
 sleep on account of it that I would ask 
 you what to do, and take your advice. I 
 promise you that I will not say a word to 
 Leslie." 
 
 " Thank you," said he, cordially. Then, 
 after a second's pause, he added : " I agree 
 with you that it is hard for any one like 
 Miss Grahame to be deceived in this manner 
 a manner which I cannot trust myself to 
 characterize either as regards her lover or her 
 sister but our first duty is to think of her, 
 and I if you will allow me, I should like to 
 examine this matter further before I decide 
 to let her hear the truth." 
 
 " Oh ! I shall be so glad if you will take 
 all responsibility off my hands," cried she, 
 eagerly. " It was what I hoped you would 
 do ! I know how much you admire Leslie ; 
 and then you are such a friend of Mr. Tyn- 
 dale's that I am sure you will endeavor to 
 show him what Miss Desmond's true charac- 
 ter must be. I confess I shudder when I 
 think of her" the shudder came in play in 
 the most striking and artistic manner " her 
 conduct shows such an utter want of the 
 commonest sentiments of honor. But, then, 
 what else was to be expected from her rear- 
 ing ? Oh, what a pity that Leslie should 
 ever, ever have brought her here ! " 
 
 If Captain Tyndale did not echo these sen- 
 timents entirely, he at least agreed with them 
 in a measure. Norah had most gratuitously 
 played him false, he thought. With her as- 
 sumption of frankness, her outspoken scorn 
 and contempt for Arthur Tyndale, she had 
 made him believe in her thoroughly ; and all 
 the time she was ready to listen to passionate 
 protestations of devotion from the man she 
 affected to despise, the man who was engaged 
 to her sister ! It may be said for Max that 
 he would not have been likely to give implicit 
 
 credence to Mrs. Sandford's narrative, if other 
 proofs had not confirmed it. But something 
 in the expression of Arthur's face and Arthur's 
 tone when he had spoken the night before of 
 her presence in the library that presence 
 which the broken bust of Dante attested 
 came back to him like a ray of light. This 
 was what it meant: There had been a "love- 
 scene " on the terrace with Norah with Ko- 
 rah, who an hour before had uttered such bit- 
 ter words of Arthur and Arthur's love ! Well, 
 there could be no doubt Mrs. Sandford was 
 right that she was integrally false. After 
 all, was it remarkable? Could anything else 
 be expected from a girl whose life had been 
 spent among the adventurers and adven- 
 turesses of Bohemia ? Perhaps she was bent 
 on a bolder stroke than he had even fancied 
 perhaps she meant to lead Arthur back 
 into the chains of the old infatuation, and 
 then make him marry her ! How easily this 
 might be accomplished, Max scarcely ven- 
 tured to acknowledge to himself. He felt 
 that there was nothing in Arthurs character 
 on which, in any emergency, it was possible 
 to rely. What could be predicated with safe- 
 ty of a man who, in open disregard of his 
 plighted faith, averred that he loved " pas- 
 sionately" a woman whom he had only men- 
 tioned in tones of contemptuous repugnance 
 a month before? Thinking of him, Max felt 
 that hopelessness which we have many of us 
 known in similar cases. With a person, how- 
 ever bad, who possesses any thing like sta- 
 bility, it may be possible to know, after a 
 fashion, what to do; but, with one whose 
 opinions, feelings, and resolves, are like the 
 yielding sand, he must be a sage, indeed, who 
 can resolve upon any fixed course of action. 
 
 Pondering such thoughts as these, Cap- 
 tain Tyndale walked by Mrs. Sandford's side to 
 the house the sun having at last forced them 
 to abandon their position and it was like an 
 echo of, or a commentary upon, his train of 
 reflection when the first person whom he saw 
 on entering the drawing-room was I\ T orah Des- 
 mond. Leslie was there, also, and Mrs. Mid- 
 dleton, but it was in the nature of things that 
 the eye should fall first on Miss Desmond. 
 If two or two hundred other women were in 
 the room, she attracted the gaze as naturally 
 and involuntarily as a ray of sunlight or a 
 brilliant flower. 
 
 Yet it must net be supposed that there 
 was any thing brilliant or flower-like in her
 
 A CROQUET-PARTY. 
 
 101 
 
 costume, which was singularly simple as a 
 general rule, avoiding all bizarre effects, even 
 such as are sanctioned in this heyday of 
 bizarre modes. She was evidently determined 
 that nobody should say there was any thing 
 " Bohemian " in her taste. And it was sur- 
 prising it was like a revelation to eyes only 
 accustomed to overloaded women to see 
 how this simplicity of attire enhanced her 
 really extraordinary beauty. Indeed, Mrs. 
 Sandford confided to her maid, in the deep 
 injury of her soul, that it was on this account 
 Miss Desmond dressed so plainly that she 
 wore few flounces, and still fewer ornaments. 
 
 " She wants to show that she can do it ! " 
 the acute lady said. "Poverty may have 
 something to say in the matter, but affect i- 
 tion has still more ! " 
 
 Whatever were Norah's reasons, there 
 certainly was no question of her success in 
 an aesthetic point of view. Just now Mrs. 
 Sandford looked like an overdressed doll, in 
 all her purple and white glories, by the side of i 
 the other's plain morning-dress, unrelieved by ! 
 any thing more than a bit of black velvet j 
 tied round her throat. No pendant, no ear- 
 rings, no sash, no " any thing," Mrs. Sand- 
 ford would have said, except exquisite fresh- 
 ness and artistic simplicity. Max looked up- 
 on her, and his eye was so well satisfied with 
 seeing that, by a masculine result of mascu- 
 line logic, he began to ask himself if it were 
 possible that this beautiful, stately creature 
 was, indeed, the consummate actress and 
 scheming adventuress which circumstances 
 seemed to indicate. He certainly would have 
 been something more or less than man if he 
 could have resisted the sunlight of the smile 
 with which she presently turned to him. 
 
 "We have been talking of you, Captain 
 Tyndale Leslie and I," she said. " Have 
 your ears been burning at all this morning ? " 
 
 " They have been too much engaged in 
 listening," he answered, walking over to where 
 she sat. " I have been in the shrubbery with 
 Mrs. Sandford, and hnve your ears given you 
 warning that you were a topic of conversation, 
 Miss Desmond ? " 
 
 " No," she answered, quietly ; but she 
 looked up at him as he stood, tall and straight, 
 before her, with a sudden flash of intelligence 
 in her eye, which showed him that she under- 
 stood at once what he meant. It was not 
 likely that she had forgotten Mrs. Sandford's 
 presence in the library the evening before, 
 
 and she possessed none of Mr. Tyndale's fa- 
 cility for believing just that which was the 
 least trouble and the most agreeable to be- 
 lieve. 
 
 " We have been talking of you Mrs. 
 Sandford and I," repeated Max, impressed al- 
 most against his will by the clear frankness 
 of her glance, the utter want of any shade of 
 detected guilt on her face. " And, if you do 
 not object, I should like to ask some expla- 
 nation, of a story which she has been good 
 enough to tell me." 
 
 She looked at him steadily for a minute 
 before she answered; then another quick, 
 bright smile came over her face. 
 
 " You go to your point very directly," she 
 said. " I like that. It answers better, with 
 some people, than the diplomacy of a Talley- 
 rand. Yes, Captain Tyndale, I will give you 
 a full explanation of whatever story you may 
 have heard, because you have thought well 
 enough of me to come and ask for it like a 
 man of honor." 
 
 Captain Tyndale winced a little at this. 
 Half an hour before he certainly had not 
 " thought well " of her ; but there was some- 
 thing magnetic about this woman. Let him 
 doubt or distrust her as he might out of her 
 presence, he could not do so in it ; he could 
 not hear the clear ring of her voice, or meet 
 the frank glance of her eye, and say, " This is 
 falsehood ! " 
 
 "Will you tell me now ? " he asked, eager- 
 ly. " Shall we go out on the veranda ? I do 
 not think we are likely to be disturbed." 
 
 But, even as he spoke, Mr. Middleton and 
 Carl entered the room, and the latter at once 
 came over to Norah. A few minutes later 
 they went to luncheon, and all hope of an im- 
 mediate explanation was at an end. 
 
 At luncheon Captain Tyndale found that 
 there was a social engagement on hand for 
 the afternoon. 
 
 " We have to go over to the Covingtons 
 to play croquet," Leslie told him. "It is 
 very tiresome, but they made such a point of 
 it I scarcely like to disappoint them. What 
 a barbarous idea it is to have afternoon 
 amusements in summer, is it not ? I think 
 the afternoon should always be sacred to one's 
 siesta." 
 
 " A croquet-party will at least have the 
 merit of novelty to me," said Carl. " I have 
 heard of the game very often, but I have never 
 seen it."
 
 102 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 " Never seen it ! " 
 
 A note of admiration poorly expresses 
 the tone in which those three words were 
 echoed round the table. 
 
 " Never seen it ! We could not have im- 
 agined such depth of ignorance, even in Ger- 
 many," said Mrs. Sandford. 
 
 Max laughed, and raised a glass of wine 
 to his lips. 
 
 " Happy man ! " he said. " We drink to 
 your continued ignorance." 
 
 " I am not sure that I desire it to con- 
 tinue," said Carl. "A man might as well 
 know a little of every thing. Something like 
 billiards, isn't it?" 
 
 This remark was addressed to the company 
 in general. 
 
 " Like billiards ! " repeated Leslie. " ' As 
 moonlight is to sunlight, or as water unto 
 wine,' or as the weakest tea you can imagine 
 to good champagne." 
 
 " A more tiresome thing never was in- 
 vented," said Mrs. Sandford, with unction. 
 
 " Why do you all play it, then ? " asked 
 Norah, also addressing the company. " When 
 one has to submit to being bored in a case 
 of necessity or duty, I can stand it as well as 
 any other woman or man, but, when it is bor- 
 ing, pure and simple, and you call it amuse- 
 ment, I cannot see the sense of it." 
 
 " Nor I," said Carl. " I never could." 
 
 " Unfortunately, we cannot help our- 
 selves," said Mrs. Middleton. " There are 
 certain social amusements which are social 
 duties. If one shirks them, one must give 
 up society altogether." 
 
 " But do you really find no pleasure in 
 your social gatherings ? " asked the young Bo- 
 hemian, curiously. "How strange that you 
 should continue to call them ' amusements,' 
 then ! I should be honest, and say ' bores ' at 
 once." 
 
 " How very evident it is that Miss Des- 
 mond has never been in society ! " said Mrs. 
 Sandford, with her rippling laugh. " What 
 would she think if she had gone through the 
 exhaustion of two or three seasons, I won- 
 der ? " 
 
 " I should probably think that I was much 
 the worse for wear in every particular," an- 
 swered Miss Desmond, quietly. 
 
 This was such a keen home-thrust since 
 everybody who had known Mrs. Sandford in 
 her first youth was so thoroughly conscious 
 that she was the worse for wear that Leslie 
 
 turned the course of conversation at once by 
 addressing Max. 
 
 " Can you not come with us this after- 
 noon ? " she asked. " You know that the 
 Covingtons would be very glad to see you." 
 
 " I hope you have not forgotten that you 
 have an engagement to drive with me this 
 afternoon," said Carl, speaking quickly to 
 Norah. " The croquet-party need not inter- 
 fere with it, for I can drive you over to the 
 Covington place." 
 
 " No, thanks," said Max to Leslie. " You 
 are very kind, and eo would the Covingtons 
 be, but I really cannot agree with Mr. Mid- 
 dleton in thinking that croquet is either 
 worth knowing, or if one has the misfortune 
 to know it after a fashion worth playing. 
 I shall go back to Strafford and see how Ar- 
 thur is coming on." 
 
 He had not gone back to Strafford, how- 
 ever, when the carriages consisting of Les- 
 lie's phaeton and Carl's new dog-cart drove 
 to the door, and the three ladies, in their 
 pretty croquet costumes, came down-stairs. 
 
 " How neatly I settled that fellow ! " said 
 Carl, looking at Captain Tyndale as they 
 drove off. " Did you notice how he paused 
 and glanced at you when Leslie asked him if 
 he would not come with us ? He would have 
 said ' yes ' in a minute if I had not showed 
 him that I had a prior claim upon your time 
 and attention." 
 
 " How exceedingly foolish you are ! " said 
 Norah, with delightful candor. " It is really 
 astonishing to see how completely you disre- 
 gard such trifles as fact and reason. If Cap- 
 tain Tyndale looked at me when Leslie spoke 
 to him, it was doubtless in much the same 
 way that you look at your horse when I speak 
 to you." 
 
 " It is impossible but that you must see 
 that the man is ready to make a complete 
 fool of himself about you! " said Carl, with 
 jealous and not particularly lucid energy. 
 
 " It is perfectly possible that I see noth- 
 ing of the kind," she answered. " Neither 
 would you, if your eyes had not a glamour of 
 absurdity over them. If you must know the 
 truth," she added, impatiently, "you might 
 have seen it for yourself by-the-way, Cap- 
 tain Tyndale is in love with Leslie/' 
 
 " In love with Leslie ! " repeated he, in a 
 tone of incredulity, turning to look into her 
 face. " You you are not in earnest ? " 
 
 " I am entirely in earnest," she answered.
 
 MISCHIEF-MAKING. 
 
 103 
 
 "He is certainly in love with Leslie; and I 
 think " (this very deliberately) " that he 
 would suit her infinitely better than his ac- 
 complished cousin will ever do." 
 
 " Do you ? " said Carl. " But that is for 
 Leslie to judge, is it not? Unless, indeed " 
 
 Here he broke off abruptly. A sudden 
 strain of new suspicion darted into his mind. 
 There is something really inexhaustible in the 
 versatility of jealousy something that can 
 freshly amaze every day and every hour even 
 those who have had most cause to know and 
 best opportunity to study that remarkable 
 passion. It may be said that this was just 
 now the master-passion of Carl Middleton's 
 life. Feeding his love for Norah day by day 
 on the magic of her presence, he had fed his 
 tormentor also on the words and smiles which 
 she gave so freely to others, until he was 
 ready to believe any thing, to see any thing, 
 to fancy any thing, that might tend to add to 
 his discomfort, however improbable it might 
 intrinsically be. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mrs. Sandford was doing a 
 little mischief-making on a small scale with 
 Leslie. She was too mindful of her promise 
 to Max, to attempt any thing of the kind on 
 a great scale ; but the desire to meddle and 
 to talk, to advise wisely or to hint what she 
 was not allowed to confide, was too much for 
 her as it has been too much for many an- 
 other woman since the days of Eve. If she 
 did not venture to disregard entirely the em- 
 bargo which had been laid upon her tongue, 
 it was not because she attached any particu- 
 lar binding significance to a promise, but 
 rather because she was not prepared to brave 
 the anger which she knew Max would feel, or 
 to sacrifice the advantage she had gained by 
 discreet confidence and appeal. She began, 
 therefore, on the outskirts of the subject, be- 
 gan discursively to talk of Miss Desmond, 
 expressing herself with all the moderation 
 and good sense which usually characterized 
 her conversation : 
 
 " So charming, so beautiful, with such a 
 peculiar gift of fascination !" she said. "I 
 never knew before what a real enchantress 
 a woman can be an enchantress such as 
 one reads of, you know. Miss Desmond 
 seem'! to possess such a peculiar attraction 
 for men ! I have never seen any thing like it." 
 
 " I am afraid Carl is more in love with 
 her than is good for him," said Leslie, flick- 
 ing Romulus and Remus lightly with the 
 
 whip. "But I am not aware that she has 
 displayed her conquering talent with regard 
 to any one else as yet." 
 
 " That is because you have not obserjed," 
 said Mrs. Sandford, with a shake of the head. 
 " If you had But I think there is nothing 
 more beautiful than that perfect and implicit 
 trust which you seem to feel in every one you 
 love." 
 
 " I certainly could not love any one whom 
 I was forced to suspect," answered Leslie, 
 flushing. " If you are speaking of Norah " 
 
 " My dear, I am not speaking of anybody 
 that is, of anybody in particular," inter- 
 rupted the other, quickly, " Of course, it is 
 no affair of mine. I am, unfortunately, too 
 observant I see and know too much. I of- 
 ten feel as if I would give any thing to have 
 your delightful repose and confidence." 
 
 "You are right in saying that I trust im- 
 plicitly those whom I love," said Miss Gra- 
 harne, with some hauteur for it is slightly 
 trying to be politely accused of obtuse stu- 
 pidity " but, with regard to other people, I 
 am not conscious of wearing a bandage over 
 my eyes. I make no very great chum to 
 worldly acumen, but I think I can see as 
 clearly as most of my fellows." 
 
 " I never implied or meant to imply for a 
 moment that you wore a bandage over your 
 eyes," said Mrs. Sandford, with the sweetest 
 conciliation. " I only meant that you are 
 blind quite blind where your affections are 
 concerned. You acknowledge that yourself." 
 
 " Not that I am blind, but that I do not 
 suspect readily. There is a distinction be- 
 tween the two things." 
 
 " Is there ? I suppose I am very stupid, 
 but I really cannot see it. It seems to me 
 that one is blind if one does not suspect when 
 one is deceived, for instance." 
 
 " When one is deceived ! " Something in 
 the tone which uttered those words a scarce- 
 ly-veiled significance and meaning struck 
 with a cold chill to Leslie's heart. She felt 
 suddenly that Mrs. Sandford was not talking 
 at random, that she had a particular object 
 in view, and that her words pointed like ar- 
 rows directly toward that object. If Miss 
 Grahame had followed her impulse, she would 
 have turned authoritatively and said, " What 
 do you mean ? Tor Heaven's sake, speak 
 plainly ! " But she was a woman of sufficient 
 worldly experience to know that such an im- 
 pulse was not a wise one. To bid some peo-
 
 104 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 pic speak plainly is simply to offer them a 
 premium for further innuendo and mystery. 
 
 " Of course if one is deceived, one may 
 desirf and should endeavor to know it," she 
 said, after a minute. " Self-i-espect which 
 is often, however, merely another name for 
 selfishness teaches that much, at least." 
 
 "But if one does not suspect if one 
 does not open one's eyes and look, how can 
 one know ? " asked Mrs. Sandford, more 
 meaningly than ever. Just then she felt so 
 much sincere compassion for Miss Grahame, 
 that it required her strongest thoughts of 
 Captain Tyndale to refrain from telling the 
 whole truth, as she conceived it. 
 
 Leslie looked at her with a half-pathetic 
 keenness in her soft gray eyes. 
 
 " I would not turn away from any proof 
 of deception which came to me," she said, 
 gravely, " but I would never lower myself 
 sufficiently to go in search of it." 
 
 " Oh, my dear, I am sure you never would ! " 
 cried the other, who began to think she had 
 gone far enough. She had put Leslie on her 
 guard, and she had not broken faith with 
 Max. While congratulating herself on the 
 diplomacy which had secured both these ends, 
 she felt that this was the golden moment in 
 which to retreat. Enough (for her purpose) 
 had been said, and not too much : another 
 word might involve her in the necessity of 
 an explanation, and spoil all. " I am sure 
 you never would ! " she repeated. " I al- 
 ways thought you had the keenest sense of 
 honor I have ever known in any one. How 
 strange it is to consider how unlike the near- 
 est relations may be ! " (This hint was so 
 tempting, that she could not resist throwing 
 it in.) " By-the-by, do tell me if there is no 
 talk of any of these Covington girls being 
 married ? Do they mean to grow into a whole 
 houseful of old maids ? " 
 
 The conversation was easily turned in this 
 way for Leslie was too proud to make any 
 effort to continue a subject which the other 
 evidently wished to drop but Mrs. Sandford 
 was safe in thinking that she had sowed a 
 seed which was destined to ripen into fruit, 
 and worked mischief not likely to pass harm- 
 lessly away. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " A woman is a foreign land, 
 
 Of which, though there he settle young, 
 A man will ne'er quite understand 
 
 The customs, politics, and tongue. 
 The foolish hie them post-haste through, 
 
 See fashions odd, and prospects fair, 
 Learn of the language, ' how d'ye do ? ' 
 
 And go and brag that they've been there." 
 
 ON the evening of the same day, dinner 
 was over at Rosland, the lights were turned 
 low in the drawing-room, and the party 
 somewhat tired and languid after their cro- 
 quet were assembled on the veranda, when 
 Arthur Tyndale came across the lawn in the 
 shadowy moonlight and joined them. 
 
 They were a little surprised to sec him, 
 and he had to run a gantlet of inquiries about 
 his " indisposition," all of which he answered 
 with remarkable brevity, and then dropped 
 into a seat under the shadow of the vines by 
 Leslie's side. 
 
 " I am sorry to hear you have been un- 
 well," she said, in her tender voice a voice 
 which sounded like a C minor chord in mu- 
 sic "has it really been serious? Do you 
 think the fishing yesterday had any thing to 
 do with it ? " 
 
 " It has not been in the least serious," he 
 answered, in a tone of subdued irritation. 
 " A little headache nothing of any impor- 
 tance. I cannot imagine what induced Max 
 to say that I was ill." 
 
 " He did not say that you were ill only 
 unwell." 
 
 " But I was not even unwell lazy would 
 have been much nearer the truth. This weath- 
 er pulls one down horribly," he added, impa- 
 tiently. " I have almost made up my mind 
 not to leave the house again while the sun is 
 above the horizon." 
 
 " Have you ? " said Leslie. She did not 
 say any thing more, for, like a flash, it oc- 
 curred to her that, if Arthur discontinued the 
 morning visits which he had paid ever since 
 her arrival at Rosland, it would effectually 
 put an end to all their private interviews. 
 She was too fastidious in taste and breeding 
 to withdraw from the circle of the evening in 
 any marked manner, and there are few of us 
 who have not learned that the intercourse of 
 two people, in which half a dozen others 
 more or less participate, is rarely satisfacto- 
 ry. She did not suggest this fact to him, for
 
 A LIVELY IMAGINATION. 
 
 105 
 
 it also occurred to her that he might be as 
 well aware of it as herself. A new sense of 
 distrust had come over Leslie since Mrs. 
 Sandford had uttered her enigmatical warn- 
 ing. It was very vague, as yet for she did 
 not know whom or what she had been advised 
 to suspect but it existed, and this was more 
 than could have been said twelve or even six 
 hours earlier. Tyndale's words which in 
 truth were little more than the random ut- 
 terances of a man impatient with circum- 
 stances and with himself jarred on her as 
 they would not have done had they been of 
 much stronger import a little while before. 
 She was not a woman to display any thing 
 like petulant exaction, liowever, and so she 
 made answer very quietly : 
 
 " I think it would be a very prudent res- 
 olution. Aunt Mildred would certainly ap- 
 plaud it, for she blames the sun for every ill 
 that flesh is heir to in our climate, and fan- 
 cies that, if we only stay under shelter from 
 sunrise to sunset, we can sleep out in the dew 
 all night if we have a mind to." 
 
 " There might be a more unpleasant ne- 
 cessity on such a night as this," he said, 
 throwing back his head and looking up, so 
 that the soft moonlight fell on his fair, deli- 
 cate face and silken blond hair. Then he 
 turned abruptly to Norah. " Miss Desmond, 
 do you remember I mean, does not this 
 moonlight make you think of moonlight 
 nights in Germany? Something just now re- 
 minds me of one night which I cannot forget 
 of a moon in her first quarter hanging over 
 Coblentz, of the Rhine murmuring below, and 
 of Ehrenbreitstcin, with its towers showing 
 dark and massive against the purple sky 
 above ! " 
 
 " Your imagination must be very lively, 
 Mr. Tyndale," answered Carl's voice out of 
 the shadowy half-light for Norah said not 
 a word " I confess I cannot possibly see any 
 thing to suggest the Rhine or Ehrenbreit- 
 stein in the present scene. The moon is a 
 very slender link of association if it is the 
 only one." 
 
 His slight pause before the last words 
 made them very significant, and other ears 
 besides those of Tyndale and Norah caught 
 the meaning which filled them. To Mrs. 
 Sandford they brought a sudden illumination 
 that absolutely startled her, and made her 
 cry " Eureka ! " to herself. With Leslie they 
 deepened the vague sense of suspicion which 
 
 began to stir within her. Something was 
 going on ! Her newly-sharpened faculties of 
 observation told her that much at least. Oth- 
 ers knew or suspected something about Ar- 
 thur or about Norah, which must of necessity 
 concern her. She had a strange, puzzled feel- 
 ing, as of a child newly waked what did it 
 mean ? As yet the faintest conception of the 
 truth had not come to her. 
 
 " Why did not Captain Tyndale come over 
 with you ? " said Mrs. Sandford to Arthur, by 
 way of breaking the awkward pause which 
 followed Carl's remark. She was good-na- 
 tured in the main, and, although she meant 
 to know all that was to be known about this 
 mystery which piqued and puzzled her, she 
 had no objection to smoothing mattei.3 so- 
 cially, meanwhile. " He might have felt a 
 little interest in learning whether or not we 
 survived the croquet." 
 
 " He might have come if he had been 
 aware that I intended to do so," Arthur an- 
 swered, carelessly. " But I strolled off with- 
 out letting him know." 
 
 "And pray why did you stroll off without 
 letting him know ? " asked she, petulantly. 
 
 " Because I thought him quite as well ac- 
 quainted with the path as I am," returned he, 
 coolly. 
 
 Then there was another pause. Every- 
 body felt instinctively that something had 
 " happened" between these two men, who, in 
 an undemonstrative masculine fashion, had 
 represented " Damon and Pythias " in mod- 
 ern costume a short time before. Nobody 
 fancied for a moment that any thing overt or 
 violent, or even tangible, had taken place, 
 but that something had come between them 
 some coolness, some barrier, some change in 
 the old, affectionate intimacy was evident, 
 for it is astonishing how much the mere sig- 
 nificance of accent can convey to ears which 
 are on the alert. After Arthur's last speech, 
 Norah, Leslie, Mrs. Sandford, and Carl, were 
 all as well aware as himself of his altered 
 feeling toward Max. Mrs. Middleton was the 
 only person on whom the subtile inflection of 
 his tone fell unperceived. As for Mr. Mid- 
 dleton, he was taking a comfortable doze in a 
 shaded corner of the drawing-room, having 
 outlived his fancy for moonlight, and inclin- 
 ing to the opinion that the night-air had ma- 
 laria in it. 
 
 " How stupid we are ! " said Mrs. Sand- 
 ford after a while, with a candid yawn. " Can't
 
 106 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 somebody do something for the general amuse- 
 ment ? Miss Desmond, won't you go and sing 
 for us ? " 
 
 " Pray do, Miss Desmond," said Mrs. Mid- 
 dleton, courteously. It was the best thing 
 this lady knew of Norah, that she could sing. 
 
 Miss Desmond yielded without demur 
 she was unusually quiet this evening, more 
 than one of the party remarked and, as she 
 rose to enter the drawing-room, Tyndale rose 
 also, somewhat to Leslie's surprise, greatly 
 to Carl's indignation, and followed her. 
 
 Being in advance, Norah was not aware 
 of his presence until she reached the piano. 
 Then, turning to say, " What shall I sing ? " 
 she found herself facing him instead of Carl, 
 as she expected. 
 
 She started a little, a flush which he knew 
 to be one of anger rose to her face, and her 
 lips unclosed impetuously. But sometimes it 
 is possible to pause in the very act of utter- 
 ance, and so Norah paused now. The reason 
 of this was not far to seek. She had caught 
 a glimpse of the bald top of Mr. Middleton's 
 head, and, although several audible sounds 
 indicative of slumber were proceeding from 
 his nose, she was too cautious a woman to 
 utter aloud the haughty words of impatience 
 trembling on her tongue. 
 
 " I thought you were Mr. Middleton," she 
 said, with a quietness that amazed Tyndale ; 
 for he did not see the bald head or hear the 
 sounds which it would have been an insult to 
 call snoring. 
 
 " I thought that I might venture to come 
 instead of Mr. Middleton," he answered, un- 
 certain whether to augur good or ill from her 
 sudden change of manner. " You asked what 
 you should sing," he went on, quickly. " May 
 I answer that question ? May I say that I 
 should like of all things to hear once again 
 that little German song which you sang do 
 you remember? that night at Coblentz to 
 which I alluded a little while ago ? " 
 
 " I remember," said Norah. 
 
 She looked at him intently, almost curi- 
 ously, as she spoke. Of what was this man 
 made, that he ventured to brave her like this ? 
 Was he mad that he, who had every reason to 
 conciliate her (if such a thing could be done), 
 instead brought forward memories which 
 might have hardened the heart and strength- 
 ened the resolution of a far less proud and 
 passionate woman ? It is impossible to say 
 whether she felt most contempt or puzzled 
 
 indignation as she stood looking at him with 
 her keen, brilliant glance, but it is at least 
 certain that she understood him far better 
 than he understood her when she answered 
 at last. 
 
 " You mean the little German ballad called 
 ' The Pledge ? ' " she asked. " Yes, I will sing 
 it for you that is, if I can remember it. I 
 do not think I have sung it since that night 
 at Coblentz, when I sat on the balcony with 
 one who was to leave the next day, and 
 watched the moon go down behind the vine- 
 clad hills, with the voice of the Rhine in our 
 ears." 
 
 "My God! how I remember it all!" he 
 said, passionately ; but, as he spoke, a warn- 
 ing glance in her eye made him stop short. 
 
 " Will you go yonder, across the room, 
 and look for my fan on one of those tables ? " 
 she said, quickly. 
 
 While he obeyed, she sat down to the 
 piano, and, when he came back, a single 
 glance at his face showed her that he had 
 seen Mr. Middleton. 
 
 She smiled, and, secure from any further 
 allusion to the past, it may be that she was 
 not averse to showing him her indifference 
 to it. 
 
 "This is the song you mean, is it not? " 
 she asked, striking a few chords, and then 
 beginning to sing. 
 
 It was a very beautiful ballad, though suffi- 
 ciently simple in subject and execution only 
 a pledge of faith which a maiden gave her 
 lover when they parted but the theme was 
 treated as only the Germans know how to 
 treat such a theme, lifting it out of the region 
 of commonplace into the realm of pure artistic 
 simplicity. 
 
 Norah sang it exquisitely, with a pathos 
 and sweetness which thrilled even those who 
 were gathered on the veranda in the moon- 
 light. 
 
 " How charming ! " cried Mrs. Sandford, 
 " and with how much expression Miss Desmond 
 is singing! You understand German "(this 
 to Carl) ; " tell us what it is about." 
 
 " It is the promise of a girl to be faithful 
 through all things to her lover," he answered 
 a coldness and constraint in his voice which 
 it was impossible for him to disguise. 
 
 "Oh!" said Mrs. Sandford. To do her 
 justice, she uttered that long-drawn exclama- 
 tion involuntarily. It was little more than a 
 thought spoken aloud. "How pretty such
 
 AX UNFORTUNATE ACCIDENT. 
 
 107 
 
 promises always are in poetry and music," 
 she added, after a minute, " and how pretty 
 Miss Desmond looks while ?he sings it ! " 
 
 " When does not Miss Desmond look 
 pretty? " asked Carl, in a sharp, quick tone, 
 full of mingled tenderness and jealousy, which 
 was any thing but soothing to the ears or the 
 feelings of Mrs. Middleton. 
 
 He rose, as he spoke, from his own seat, 
 and crossed over to where Mrs. Sandford was 
 sitting, just outside one of the open windows. 
 It was like looking at a picture to stand there 
 in the fragrant darkness, and gaze down the 
 the long room, with its mirrors, and paintings, 
 and polished floor, to where Norah sat at the 
 piano in her filmy white dress, with one scar- 
 let flower glowing on her breast, another in 
 the rich masses of her hair only Carl was 
 not exactly in that calm, aesthetic frame of 
 mind necessary for the appreciation of a work 
 of art. He did not take in the general effect 
 of the scene ; his eyes were fastened on the 
 face which just then wore its most lustrous 
 beauty. How could he imagine what bitter 
 memories of the past, what overpowering 
 scorn of the present, had made that face 
 blossom into such vivid loveliness of light 
 and color ? 
 
 Even Tyndale thought that be had never 
 seen it more beautiful ; even he thought that 
 it was the spell of the song that subtile as- 
 sociation which dwells in music as in odor 
 which had brought such glowing light to No- 
 rah's eyes, such brilliant carmine to her 
 cheeks. If the first cadence made him re- 
 member that September night on the Kliine 
 until his pulses throbbed, how must it be with 
 her in whose mind the brief romance which 
 ended then had dwelt more deeply and more 
 constantly ? It must not be supposed that he 
 forgot, meanwhile, the letter resting safely in 
 his pocket-book that letter in which Xorah 
 said that her love for him had died so utter a 
 death but it was easier to believe that she 
 had deceived herself, or that she meant to de- 
 ceive her sister, than that such an assertion 
 could possibly rest on fact. Beyond a certain 
 point, credulity cannot go. This point in the 
 general masculine mind is reached when it 
 becomes necessary to believe that a woman 
 has learned to forget, to ignore, or to despise, 
 as the case may be, the man whom she once 
 loved. Let this man have good cause, or 
 sometimes no cause, to imagine that any thing 
 like a passion or a tender sentiment has been 
 
 entertained for him, and, in the face of rea- 
 son, fact, and probability, he will retain a 
 firm belief in his power to the last. So it 
 was with Tyndale. He knew that Norah had 
 loved him once, and consequently he no more 
 believed that this love was dead than he be- 
 lieved that he was a fool, or any other patent 
 absurdity. 
 
 " I wonder what Leslie thinks of this 
 pretty scene ! " said Mrs. Sandford, in a dis- 
 creet aside to Carl. "Upon my word, it is 
 quite lover-like, is it not ? What is Mr. Tyn- 
 dale doing now ? Looking over the music ? 
 But I thought it was one of Miss Desmond's 
 affecta peculiarities, never to sing by note." 
 
 " So it is one of her peculiarities," said 
 Carl. " That is Leslie's music he is turning 
 over. What he means by setting it up before 
 Miss Desmond, I don't know. She does not 
 sing any of those mezzo-soprano songs." 
 
 " He has a reason for it, you may be 
 sure," said Mrs. Sandford, philosophically. 
 
 A minute later this reason became appar- 
 ent much more apparent than Mr. Tyndale 
 intended or desired. The piece of sheet-mu- 
 sic which had been set up as a screen un- 
 fortunately fell down just as he was in the act 
 of offering a folded paper apparently a note 
 to Norah. which Norah, on her part, seemed 
 hesitating whether or not to receive. The 
 tableau only lasted a second. As the music 
 fell forward on the key-board, her hesitation 
 ended she quietly accepted and slipped it 
 unread into her girdle. Then she turned 
 back to the piano and began singing again. 
 
 Mrs. Sandford and Carl Middleton in- 
 stinctively looked at each other. Both had 
 seen so plainly and palpably what passed, 
 that there was no room for evasion, no need 
 for silence. 
 
 " What a mysterious and dramatic bit of 
 by-play ! " said the former, with her light, 
 empty laugh. " Why cannot people say all 
 that they want to while they are together, I 
 wonder ? " 
 
 " Perhaps they lack opportunity to do so, 
 and desire to make one," said Carl, bitterly. 
 
 But the words were scarcely uttered be- 
 fore he repented himself, and would have 
 given much to recall them. This was be- 
 cause he appreciated the folly of having spo- 
 ken so plainly to a woman like Mrs. Sand- 
 ford. His repentance would have been still 
 deeper if he had known that Leslie was stand- 
 ing at his elbow when he uttered them.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Let no one condemn Carl for absolute want- 
 of sense when it is recorded of him that he 
 did not close his eyes in slumber during the 
 short hours which remained of that moonlit 
 summer night. There are two or three facts 
 which may be pleaded in part extenuation of 
 this act of folly. First, as Norah had once 
 said in magnanimous excuse for him, he was 
 young and when one is young, one cannot 
 only be guilty of a great deal of nonsense, 
 but one can also dispense with a great deal 
 of sleep with impunity. Secondly, he was in 
 love desperately, hopelessly in love, accord- 
 ing to the impetuous though ofttimes short- 
 lived fervor of the mercurial disposition. 
 Thirdly, he was jealous savagely jealous of 
 the man who, he felt sure, was Norah's lover, 
 even while he was Leslie's fiance. Fourthly, 
 he was puzzled, more puzzled than can readi- 
 ly be expressed, by Miss Desmond's inex- 
 plicable conduct. Fifthly, the night was very 
 warm one of those breathless Southern 
 nights when one's bed, instead of being that 
 " heaven of rest " which Hood calls it, is 
 strikingly suggestive of St. Lawrence's grid- 
 iron; and, sixthly, he had just received a 
 new box of very excellent cigars. 
 
 All of these causes, combined and operat- 
 ing together, were not conducive to somno- 
 lence. With a mind irritatingly wide awake 
 and bent on thoughts of love and jealousy, 
 he could see no reason for leaving the bal- 
 cony, where he sat at ease, smoking cigar 
 after cigar, and obtaining the benefit of any 
 breeze which chanced to be stirring, for rest- 
 less tossing on a mattress within. There are 
 some fortunate people who, in the face of 
 any trouble or annoyance, can take their 
 usual quantum of rest and of these we may 
 confidently predicate that they will safely 
 weather any storm which Fate may send 
 upon them but Carl was not one of them. 
 It was also necessary to look at his face to 
 read the sign - token of that high - strung, 
 nervous organization which consumes itself 
 with its own fire, and tears itself with its 
 own strength. It would be as wise to bid 
 such natures stop breathing as to bid them 
 " take things easily," as we too often do. 
 Stronger than any thing else in this strange 
 world of ours stronger than circumstances, 
 resolution, love, or hate is the resistless 
 and mysterious strength of that which we 
 have agreed to call temperament. 
 
 Concerning the thoughts which occupied 
 
 Carl's mind during the hours first moonlit, 
 and then starlit that elapsed between the 
 last good-nights down-stairs and the first 
 lightening glow in the east, which told of 
 breaking day, it is not necessary to enter 
 into detail. His suspicions were, as yet, un- 
 formed, his gathering wrath somewhat vague, 
 not in itself, but as regarded the object 
 against whom it was directed. At this time, 
 a trifle might have made it waver again as it 
 had wavered before. Afterward it was too 
 late for this. Afterward not all the elo- 
 quence of men or angels could have turned 
 him from his fixed belief, or his fixed pur- 
 pose. 
 
 Weary at last from his night's vigil, and 
 conscious of being a little sleepy, he threw 
 his last cigar away, as the glow of the east 
 brightened and deepened into roseate splen- 
 dor, and, leaning back with a yawn, made up 
 his mind that he would " turn in." To make 
 up one's mind to do a thing, however, and to 
 do it, are occasionally very different things. 
 Just now they proved very different indeed 
 with Carl. He had scarcely taken his reso- 
 lution, and he certainly had not as yet moved 
 an inch toward carrying it into execution, 
 when the sound of an opening blind near at 
 hand made him start. This start was not 
 because there was any thing remarkable in 
 the fact of a blind being opened at daylight 
 on a summer morning though people sleep- 
 ing on the eastern side of the house would 
 have been more likely to close theirs as be- 
 cause sleeplessness and tobacco had together 
 produced their natural effect of nervousness, 
 together with the fact that the sound ap- 
 peared to proceed from Miss Desmond's room, 
 which chanced to be in the neighborhood of 
 his own. A minute later it was repeated, 
 and then he knew that it proceeded from her 
 room. Immediately Suspicion sprang up, 
 ready armed and on the alert. What was 
 Norah doing awake at that hour? It was 
 impossible to fancy it could be a servant, for 
 the servants at Rosland had far too much re- 
 gard for their own comfort, and knew the 
 habits of their master and mistress too well, 
 to rouse themselves at such a time. 
 
 For ten minutes Carl sat listening intently, 
 with strained attention, for any further proof 
 of matutinal rising on Miss Desmond's part. 
 All night he had spent in going over and over 
 (according to the distracting fashion of night 
 meditation) that little scene at the piano all
 
 EARLY RISING. 
 
 109 
 
 night he had taken an active part, as counsel 
 for the defense, in an exhaustive mental ar- 
 gument to prove that there could have been 
 nothing of importance in that folded paper 
 which looked so suspiciously like a note. 
 Now, he found, in the most discouraging man- 
 ner, that his trouble had all been for naught. 
 At the first sound from Norah's room, his 
 thoughts flew back to the suspicion-point of 
 the night before. What was in that note? 
 What was the meaning of this early rising? 
 Reason said it did not follow of necessity that 
 there was any connection between the two 
 facts. Instinct said, " You may be sure that 
 there is a connection of the closest kind." 
 Between the two, Carl felt not a little puz- 
 zled ; but he inclined toward instinct, as, in 
 little or in great, we all more or less do in- 
 cline. Besides, there was reason on that 
 side, too. He had known Miss Desmond well 
 enough and long enough to be aware that she 
 had nothing of the lark in her composition. 
 Only the day before he had heard her say 
 that there was nothing she detested so much 
 as early rising ; and now 
 
 Well, he thought, the man would be fit 
 for a lunatic asylum, indeed, who expected 
 consistency in a woman ; and, after all, the 
 fact of the open blind did not prove that she 
 had risen. She might have wanted a little 
 air (of which there was not the least stirring), 
 or she might have wanted to admire the sun- 
 rise. This last idea was so improbable that 
 he caught himself smiling over it ; and, as he 
 did so, the sun, which had been reddening 
 the tree-tops for some time, rose in full ma- 
 jesty; the first level, golden lines of light 
 came slanting across the green, dewy earth, 
 and 
 
 " .... in the crystal cup of day 
 Lay melted the pearl of dawn." 
 
 The marvelous stillness, freshness, and 
 beauty of the scene arrested even Carl's un- 
 observant gaze. For a minute he forgot his 
 passionate, jealous thoughts, in admiration 
 of the picture outspread before him the 
 shadows, long and deep as those of afternoon, 
 the sunlight full of still glory, the sparkling 
 freshness of grass and foliage, the purple mist 
 clinging softly to the distant hills, the lucid 
 clearness and brightness of the air. As he 
 looked and listened for, from copse and tree 
 rose the matin song of many feathered chor- 
 isters another sound made him start, and 
 diverted his attention in a moment from all 
 
 the glory of Nature. This sound was the 
 soft unclosing of a door immediately beneath 
 his balcony. 
 
 Instantly he leaned forward and looked 
 over the railing. As he did so, a light-gray 
 dress fluttered below, a figure wearing a straw 
 hat stepped into full view, and the next mo- 
 ment he recognized Norah Desmond as she 
 walked with her quick, stately tread across 
 the dewy grass. 
 
 Careless whether or not she should turn 
 and see him, Carl sat motionless, staring 
 after her as she crossed the lawn and disap- 
 peared along a winding path of the shrub- 
 bery. What did it mean? This was what 
 he asked himself ignoring the fact that Miss 
 Desmond was at liberty to take as many 
 walks at sunrise as she felt inclined to, with- 
 out any one possessing the right (he, least of 
 all) to inquire why she did so. " She has 
 gone to meet that scoundrel ! " he said, after 
 a while, striking his clinched hand violently 
 on the railing against which he leaned, hurt- 
 ing it severely, by-the-by only people do 
 not mind such trifles as this when they are 
 excited. 
 
 Having decided that she had gone to meet 
 the scoundrel in question, Carl felt himself 
 fired with the spirit of one of Mr. Wilkie 
 Collins's detectives. There was only a single 
 objection to following her and settling the 
 point at once : this was an inconvenient sen- 
 timent of honor, an inconvenient feeling that, 
 as a gentleman, he had no right and little ex- 
 cuse for prying into Miss Desmond's affairs, 
 and sitting in judgment on her conduct. But 
 then, if he meant to serve her as he did 
 mean to serve her, by showing Arthur Tyn- 
 dale that he could not, with impunity, play 
 such a part between herself and Leslie was 
 it not necessary for him to know the truth ? 
 This view of the case struck him forcibly, and 
 seemed unanswerable. Certainly it was neces- 
 sary that he should know the truth ; certain- 
 ly, also, there was no other means for learn- 
 ing it than this which seemed to him in a 
 measure dishonorable. Yet, after all, was he 
 not regarding the matter in rather an exag- 
 gerated light ? Was it dishonorable to sat- 
 isfy himself by sight, merely of a matter 
 concerning which it was vitally important 
 that he should possess satisfaction ? The 
 strictest of moral casuists might have been 
 excused for answering "No." 
 
 At least, this was Carl's view of the case.
 
 110 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Just then, probably, he was a particularly 
 strict moral casuist. Few of us are when 
 our own desires and interests are at stake. 
 Unquestionably the matter ended as might 
 have been expected. He entered his room, 
 dressed quickly, and, going down-stairs as 
 quietly as possible, passed out of the door 
 which Norah had left ajar, and followed the 
 path which she had taken into the shrub- 
 bery. 
 
 Ten minutes later, he came in sight of the 
 Dutch summer-house toward which the in- 
 stinct, that occasionally serves as a mariner's 
 compass on dry land, led his feet. It was 
 there that Norah had gone, he felt sure; it 
 was there that he would learn the best or 
 worst of that which he desired to know. 
 
 Full of this conviction a conviction ap- 
 proaching to a positive certainty he paused 
 in the shrubbery at some distance from the 
 summer-house, contenting himself with com- 
 manding a good view of the door. All he 
 desired was to see ; no casuistry could have 
 convinced him for a moment that it was hon- 
 orable to hear. 
 
 He waited for some time without any 
 thing occurring which justified the suspicion 
 that had brought him there. " I am a fool ! " 
 he thought, and was about to turn away and 
 to resume his search in another direction, 
 when suddenly his heart gave a great throb 
 that almost suffocated him. Framed in the 
 summer - house window at that moment he 
 saw Norah's beautiful, grave face gazing out 
 over the bright landscape which he had 
 showed her first ; and, almost simultaneously 
 with this picture, his eye caught a glimpse 
 of Arthur Tyndale's graceful figure advancing 
 rapidly from the opposite direction. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 "Woman, and will you cast, 
 For a word, qnite off, at last, 
 
 Me, your own, your yon 
 
 Since, as Truth is true, 
 I was you all, the happy past 
 
 Me do you leave aghast 
 With the memories we amassed?" 
 
 NORAH was standing, with her back to the 
 door, gazing half absently out of the open 
 window, when the sound of Tyndale's step, as 
 he entered the summer-house, made her start 
 and turn around. By the quick lighting-up 
 
 of his eye, the quick flush of pleasure which 
 rose to his face, it was evident that he had 
 not been at all certain of finding her ; but the 
 expression o\ her face did not change in the 
 least as she walked slowly forward and paused 
 at the table in the centre of the floor. Evi- 
 dently she was there for a purpose, and evi- 
 dently, also, it was one with which pleasure 
 had little to do. 
 
 " You are late," she said, quietly, before 
 he could utter any salutation. " I have been 
 waiting for some time." 
 
 " Have you ? I am sorry, very sorry ! " he 
 answered, with the flush deepening on his 
 face. It is always awkward to be late in 
 keeping an appointment which one has made 
 one's self; but Tyndale was a man who piqued 
 himself on the observance of the little things 
 in which high-breeding consists, and he knew 
 that for a gentleman to be late in keeping an 
 appointment with a lady is an unpardonable 
 social offense. " How can I ask you to par- 
 don me?" he said. "I had no idea you 
 would be able to leave the house so early it 
 is very early, you know." 
 
 " Is it ? " said she, carelessly. " But, after 
 all, early is a relative term. If one had been 
 awake all night, for instance, one might call 
 it late." 
 
 "You have not been awake all night, I 
 trust ? " (rather tenderly). 
 
 " No " (very indifferently). " But I slept 
 brokenly, and the heat was intense. What is 
 it Hood says ? 
 
 ' They must be wretched who cannot sleep 
 When God himself draws the curtain ! ' 
 
 Well, I was not particularly wretched not 
 wretched at all, in fact but still I did not 
 sleep. I had bad dreams, and bad dreams al- 
 ways upset me for the day. I dreamed about 
 you ! " (with startling directness). 
 
 "I hope you don't mean to imply that 
 your dreams were bad because they were of 
 me!" 
 
 "Yes, I mean to imply just that they 
 were bad because they were of you ! But I 
 dreamed of other disagreeable things, also, 
 and therefore I was glad when day dawned, 
 and the night was over. I did not come to 
 talk of my dreams, however," said she, sitting 
 down. " Suppose we proceed at once to busi- 
 ness ? Early or late, I cannot spend much 
 time here." 
 
 " I have not yet told you how glad, how
 
 A BUSINESS APPOINTMENT. 
 
 Ill 
 
 happy I am to find you ! " he began, eagerly ; 
 but she interrupted him. 
 
 "There is not the slightest reason why 
 you should be either glad or happy. I am 
 here simply because your note seemed to in- 
 dicate that there was an urgent necessity for 
 you to see me. The more briefly you tell me 
 what this necessity is, the more indebted to 
 you I shall be." 
 
 " You will not even allow me to thank 
 you " 
 
 " Have I not explained that there is noth-, 
 ing for which to thank me ? " she interrupted, 
 again. " I have not come on your account, 
 or because you desired it. Pray understand 
 this at once. It will save time and words 
 neither of which I like to waste." 
 
 "Then, rf you did not come on my ac- 
 count, or because I desired it, may I venture 
 to inquire to what I am indebted for your 
 presence ? " asked he, irritated, against his 
 will, by the self-possession of her manner, 
 the contemptuous indifference of her tone. 
 
 " I have already told you," said she, " that 
 you are indebted to the assurance of your 
 note an assurance given on your honor if 
 such a trifling form of asseveration has any 
 weight with you that there was an impera- 
 tive need for you to see me. I credited this," 
 she added, " not so much because you asserted 
 it as because I was myself able to imagine 
 what the need in question might be." 
 
 " Were you, indeed ? " said he. The ever- 
 changing flush on his face deepened again. 
 He could not be with her five minutes without 
 being galled to the quick, and yet he was so 
 far gone in madness that he would not have 
 exchanged this bitterness for all the honey 
 that ever dropped from lips of coral. "In 
 that case, it may save time and words if you 
 will be kind enough to tell me what you have 
 imagined this need to be." 
 
 "Is that necessary?" asked she. "Is 
 there more than one thing which I could have 
 imagined it to be ? " 
 
 " There is certainly more than one thing 
 which you could have imagined," answered 
 he, with more coolness than he had displayed 
 before, " since there is more than one thing 
 of which I desire urgently to speak to you." 
 
 " A desire is one thing : a need is quite 
 another. You said nothing of the first, but a 
 great deal of the last, in your note." 
 
 "I fancied that the latter would have 
 more weight with vou than the former." 
 
 "You were quite right," she rejoined. 
 "The former would have had no weight at 
 all." Then she added, impatiently: "The 
 purpose for which I am here has nothing 
 to do with listening to idle speeches, how- 
 ever ; and any thing more idle than a discus- 
 sion of your desires it would be impossible 
 to imagine. Since the interview is of your 
 seeking, I might insist that all necessary ex- 
 planation should come from you ; but perhaps 
 it may shorten matters to say at once that, 
 when I read your note, I felt little doubt but 
 that the ' urgent need,' upon which you laid 
 so much stress, was the need of telling me a 
 fact of which I am already well aware that 
 Leslie is on the eve of knowing, if she does 
 not already know, the whole story of that 
 folly in which you were overheard at Straf- 
 ford the other day." 
 
 " Leslie on the eve of knowing the folly 
 in which I was overheard at Straffbrd the 
 other day ! " repeated he, too thoroughly as- 
 tonished to do otherwise than echo her 
 words. " I do not understand. What do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " What do I mean ? " repeated she, losing 
 patience altogether. " Are you crazy or stu- 
 pid that you do not know what I mean ? Is 
 it possible you have forgotten that there was 
 a spy ambushed in the library - window at 
 Strafford, who overheard all that you were 
 foolish enough to say on the terrace that 
 day?" 
 
 " I trust that I am neither crazy nor stu- 
 pid," answered he. " I remember now. You 
 are speaking of Mrs. Sandford. But I do 
 not think there is any thing to fear from her. 
 In the first place, it is not at all probable 
 that she overheard any thing. In the second 
 place, even if she had done so, I have no idea 
 that she would think of interfering to make 
 mischief! " 
 
 " Have you not ? " said Norah. 
 
 She looked at him with a glance which he 
 had often before encountered, and felt to be 
 of an uncomfortably keen nature. With all 
 her hardly-earned worldly wisdom, one thing, 
 which this daughter of Bohemia had not 
 learned, or disdained to practise, was the im- 
 portant art of never appearing to see too 
 much or read too clearly. Especially in a 
 woman is this art essential. Last of all 
 things which a man can forgive, is the con- 
 sciousness that the companion of his hours 
 of relaxation, the smoother of his pillow of
 
 112 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 cares, has regarded him with steady, level 
 gaze, has sounded the depths of that ofttimes 
 shallow well which he calls his mind, has 
 ventured to sit in criticism on his errors of 
 judgment, and learned to know his weak 
 points as well or better than he knows them 
 himself. Thoroughly aware of this fact, 
 many women keep their lids drooped on sys- 
 tem, only lifting them to look up in that meek 
 attitude of adoration fit for the weaker ves- 
 sel and humbler creature. 
 
 " I have known Mrs. Sandford a long 
 time," he said, in answer to the incredulity 
 of her glance, " and I have never seen any 
 trace of malice in her. She is foolish and 
 vain, but I do not think she would act in a 
 dishonorable manner." 
 
 "But Mrs. Sandford may not think that 
 she is acting in a dishonorable manner in 
 putting Leslie on her guard against two such 
 gross deceivers as you and I," said Norah, 
 with a sudden gleam of laughter, which Tyn- 
 dale felt to be very mal d propos, indeed, 
 coming into her eyes that devil-may-care 
 gleam of Irish humor which there is not 
 trouble enough on all this round earth of 
 trouble to quell. " No doubt she defends 
 the step or would defend it if it were as- 
 sailed on very high moral grounds. Can 
 you not imagine what they might be, Mr. 
 Tyndale ? " 
 
 "I cannot imagine in the least," answered 
 he, coldly, suspicious of the satire lurking 
 under her words. " My imagination is nei- 
 ther so ready nor so brilliant as your own. 
 I am only confident that you do her injus- 
 tice." 
 
 " It is bad policy to be 'confident' of any 
 thing or of anybody," said Norah. " That is 
 article first of my worldly creed. Let me 
 recommend you to make it an article of yours. 
 If you had done so a little earlier, you would 
 not be astonished when I tell you that Mrs. 
 Sandford has already made one confidant, 
 and may soon make another." 
 
 "One confidant!" repeated he, aghast. 
 " Good Heavens ! are you in earnest ? Who ? 
 what? when?" 
 
 " Your cousin, Captain Tyndale, was the 
 ' who ; ' the ' what,' I have no doubt, was all 
 that she knew, together with as much as she 
 could invent ; the ' when ' was yesterday 
 morning in the shrubbery." 
 
 "Max! has she told Max? Are you 
 sure ? is there no mistake ? " 
 
 " I scarcely think there can be any mis- 
 take. He implied as much very plainly 
 when speaking to me yesterday ; but, before 
 he could enter into any explanation, we were 
 interrupted." 
 
 " Max ! " repeated Arthur. He did not 
 say so, but he felt that he would almost as 
 soon it had been Leslie. "The meddling, 
 prying eavesdropper ! " he said, alluding to 
 Mrs. Sandford. " To think that she should 
 take advantage of a mere accident to inter- 
 fere in a matter which does not concern her 
 in the least! In the name of" a pause 
 " Heaven, what can be her motive ? " 
 
 " Have you generally found that it is at 
 all worth while to trouble one's self with re- 
 gard to people's motives ? " asked Norah, 
 calmly. " When one finds them, they are 
 generally so very small and so very shabby 
 that one hardly feels repaid for the search." 
 
 " What did Max say? " asked he, eagerly. 
 "How did he take it?" 
 
 " I have already mentioned that we were 
 interrupted before he had time to say any 
 thing." 
 
 "And Leslie; do you think she knows? 
 Do you think that that woman has told her 
 any thing? " 
 
 " I cannot tell ; but she was alone with 
 that woman for two or three hours yesterday 
 afternoon." 
 
 " Was there ever a man so deceived and 
 betrayed as I have been ! " said Tyndale, in a 
 Hamlet-like tone. "You think that /have 
 acted badly," he added, turning impetuously 
 to Norah, " but, if you could only know how 
 others have treated me ! There's Max, for 
 instance ; I would have trusted Max, if all 
 the women in the world had proved false, 
 and yet even he has failed me ! " 
 
 " I should scarcely have fancied that," 
 said Norah. 
 
 She wondered a little what had come be- 
 tween these two men, one of whom had so 
 warmly advocated the other's cause two days 
 before, but she did not choose to ask. Max 
 Tyndale was nothing to her save the hopeless 
 and deserving lover who might probably, at 
 the end of the drama, marry Leslie Gra- 
 hame. 
 
 " None of this is of any importance," she 
 went on, in her decided fashion. " The ques- 
 tion is not ' Who has deceived or who be- 
 trayed you ? ' but ' What is to be done ? ' Will 
 you tell Leslie the truth, or shall I? "
 
 ARTHUR'S INCONSTANCY. 
 
 113 
 
 " Tell Leslie the truth ! " he stammered. 
 Such a downright and uncompromising de- 
 mand almost took away his breath. Was 
 she mad this beautiful, imperious creature, 
 of whom his fear was even more lively than 
 his admiration ? 
 
 " Yes, the truth ! " repeated Miss Des- 
 mond, looking at him steadily. " Docs the 
 word frighten you ? Well, it is sometimes a 
 hard thing this truth but, at its worst, it 
 is never so hard as the consequences of that 
 other thing called falsehood. You might 
 1 have learned this fragment of wisdom some 
 time since." 
 
 " You are plainly determined to teach it 
 to me," said he, with paling lips. " God 
 knows it would have been better if I had 
 told Leslie the truth at first, but now it is 
 too late ! " 
 
 "Too late for what?" asked Norah's 
 trenchant voice. " Is it ever too late to step 
 out of the mire on to dry land? Do you 
 mean too late on account of Mrs. Saudford? 
 If you speak bravely and openly, even Mrs. 
 Sandford's story will weigh little with Leslie. 
 But I warn you frankly that it is only by 
 speaking openly that you can save yourself. 
 Sooner or later, Leslie must know the truth. 
 If you and I are silent, she will learn it from 
 others." 
 
 " Apparently you do not mean to be si- 
 lent," said he, catching at her last words. 
 
 " You are mistaken," she answered. "I 
 decided yesterday that Leslie should not 
 hear the truth from me ; I made up my mind 
 that I would go back to the old vagabond 
 life at the first excuse, and leave her unmo- 
 lested in her fools' paradise. But you see 
 that the matter has been taken out of my 
 hands. Your own folly has betrayed your 
 secret to a person who will not hesitate to 
 use it unscrupulously. Hence I who have 
 no interest in the matter save the interest of 
 honestly desiring to serve Leslie, who has 
 honestly attempted to serve me I tell you 
 that your only hope of saving yourself in her 
 eyes is to go and speak the truth, as a more 
 honorable man would have spoken it long 
 ago." 
 
 " You are hard on me," he said, changing 
 color from white to red and red to white 
 again. " You have been hard on me from 
 the first ! Can you not comprehend that a 
 man may be led into things without meaning 
 to act falsely or dishonorably ? If you could 
 8 
 
 only understand how little I meant to act 
 toward you as I have done !" 
 
 " Your conduct toward me requires no 
 apology," said she. " You have greatly mis- 
 understood all that I have said if you think 
 it necessary to offer one." 
 
 " I have not misunderstood a single word 
 that you have uttered," answered he, quickly. 
 " I am not offering an apology. It is the 
 last thing I should think of offering to you. 
 I only hope you will grant as much credence 
 and attention to what I am about to say as I 
 have given you." 
 
 " I ani afraid I must ask you to be kind 
 enough to speak briefly," answered she, 
 glancing at her watch. " I have already 
 spent more time than I intended." 
 
 " Can you not even spare me a few min- 
 utes ?" demanded he, half angrily "you 
 who give long hours to Max, and that Mid- 
 dleton puppy, whom I suppose you intend to 
 marry ! " 
 
 " Do you ? " said she, indifferently ; but 
 she did not add, " I am or am not going to 
 do so." Plainly Mr. Tyndale must under- 
 stand his position was that of a mere ac- 
 quaintance of one to whom she allowed no 
 part or interest in her life. " But this is 
 wandering from the subject of which you in- 
 tend to speak," she added. " I hope you 
 mean to explain that ' urgent need ' for my 
 presence which you have not explained yet 
 since it seems that I was wrong in my idea 
 concerning it." 
 
 " How can I explain any thing when you 
 treat me like this, when you remove me to 
 such an infinite distance from you? " said he, 
 with a sudden vibration of passion in his voice 
 which startled her, for she was not expecting 
 any thing of the kind just then. " You must 
 know, you must feel, what it is that I wish to 
 say! That 'folly' of which you talk, at 
 StrafFord the other day, was nearer wisdom 
 than folly. You urge me to tell Leslie the 
 truth. Do you know what it would be if I 
 did tell her ? It could only be that I love 
 you, Norah you only, you forever, you so 
 far above all other women, that I would rath- 
 er be miserable with you than find myself 
 condemned to live without you ! " 
 
 " That is unfortunate ! " said Norah her 
 clear, cold voice making an indescribable 
 contrast to the passionate eagerness of his 
 " since you are not likely to possess the 
 option of being miserable with me ! I fear,
 
 114 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 on the contrary, that you will find yourself 
 reduced to the necessity of being happy with- 
 out me only, for your consolation, I can 
 honestly say that I do not think a gentleman 
 who changes his mind and his fancy so often, 
 will be likely to find an exceeding amount of 
 happiness in any position of life." 
 
 " For God's sake, spare me your mock- 
 ery ! " said he, hoarsely. " If you could 
 know what I have suffered during the last 
 few days, you would pity me. I never knew 
 what the hell of jealousy was until I have 
 endured it in seeing you surrounded by other 
 men, each of whom has had a better right to 
 your time and attention than I ! At last I 
 could bear it no longer, and I determined to 
 make one effort to gain an opportunity this 
 opportunity to tell you all that is impera- 
 tive you should know " 
 
 She interrupted him here. 
 
 " Imperative to whom ? " she asked. 
 
 " To me principally ; to you, I hope, in 
 a measure," he answered. Then he leaned 
 across the table which divided them, and 
 would have taken her hands if she had not 
 drawn back haughtily. " Xorah," he said 
 and the supreme excitement of his voice 
 seemed to clash on the still air " I swear to 
 you that I love you more passionately, more 
 intensely, than I did when we were FO happy 
 two years ago, at Baden ! You are infinitely 
 dearer, infinitely more necessary, to me than 
 on the night we parted in Coblentz. Norah, 
 have you no love left for me ? Is it all dead ? 
 Can I bring none of it to life again by the de- 
 votion of a lifetime ? love ! love ! they 
 say that women never forget. Oh, if I could 
 only hope that you would come to me again 
 as you came to me once before ! " 
 
 He stopped abruptly, partly because he 
 was out of breath, and partly because there 
 was something exceedingly discouraging to 
 any prolonged effort of eloquence in the steady 
 brilliance of Norah's eyes. Not for a moment 
 had this gaze wavered from his face; not 
 once had the long lashes drooped in becoming 
 maidenly shyness, or the flush on her cheeks 
 deepened. Her self-possession was simply 
 imperturbable, unruffled by any sign of con- 
 fusion or trace of indignation. When he 
 ceased speaking, she answered him as quietly 
 as if he had made the most commonplace 
 proposal in the world : 
 
 " And if I came to you, Mr. Tyndale, pray 
 what would you do with me ? We do not 
 
 live in Asia, and I believe you are engaged to 
 marry Leslie." 
 
 ''But I was engaged lo you first!" an- 
 swered he, with a sudden flash of hope liht- 
 ing up his face. Surely, this girl, with her 
 passionate Irish blood, her reckless Bohemian 
 rearing, would never have taken his declara- 
 tion so coolly as this, unless she meant to 
 grant all that he desired. " Norah, have you 
 forgotten that ? I can never forget it. I was 
 engaged to you first, and I love you hence 
 my first duty is to you." 
 
 " In other words," said she, leaning on' 
 the table, and looking more intently than ever 
 into his face, " you are kind enough to offer 
 to break your engagement with Leslie for me. 
 Is that it? I always like things put into 
 plain English." 
 
 " I offer to put the engagement aside, and 
 act as if it did not exist, which, in truth, it 
 does not," he answered, with a ring of de- 
 fiance in his voice. " A man cannot be bound 
 to two women, and I gave my faith and my 
 heart to you two years ago. Do you remem- 
 ber the pledge we exchanged when we parted 
 in Coblentz ? What I desire, above all things, 
 now is, to redeem that pledge." 
 
 " How ? " demanded she, laconically. 
 
 " Is there more than one wny ? " asked 
 he, thinking that surely no man, in making a 
 proposal, was ever assailed by such point- 
 blank questions before. " We promised to 
 marry each other, Norah ; and I I am more 
 than willing to fulfill that promise now." 
 
 Men seldom talk well when they are mak- 
 ing love unnumbered novelists and poets to 
 the contrary notwithstanding but, if Tyn- 
 dale talked unusually badly, it can at least be 
 said for him that he talked at a remarkable 
 disadvantage. Very few men, at such a time, 
 have the misfortune to address an attention 
 critically on the alert, much less to feel a 
 pair of steady eyes gazing through and through 
 them. 
 
 Into those eyes there came a sudden gleam 
 at his last words ; but, as it came quickly, so, 
 also, it vanished. 
 
 " How kind of you ! " said she, but so 
 quietly that only the words themselves be- 
 trayed their irony. " Have you made any 
 arrangement by which this generous inten- 
 tion can be converted into an accomplished 
 fact ? " 
 
 He looked at her doubtfully. Never had 
 he felt more thoroughly puzzled how to

 
 A PROPOSED ELOPEMEXT. 
 
 115 
 
 " take " her. Was she in earnest, or was 
 she only amusing herself with him? She 
 had been so little in the habit of amusing 
 herself with him of late, however, and it was 
 so exceedingly improbable that she would se- 
 lect such a subject as this on which to begin, 
 that he finally decided she must be in ear- 
 nest. 
 
 "Arrangements are easily made," he an- 
 swered. " I have thought of one plan which 
 seems to me feasible. It is, that to-day to- 
 night to-morrow any time you choose, but 
 the sooner the better you should meet me at 
 some appointed rendezvous, from which we 
 can drive to Wexford, and take' the train for 
 Alton. As soon as we reach the latter place, 
 we will be married ; and then, if you desire 
 it, we can sail at once for Europe." 
 
 "Are you in earnest? " asked she, chan- 
 ging color for the first time. " Do you really 
 mean this ? " 
 
 " Try me ! " said he, passionately. " That 
 is all I ask. Appoint the hour, and let me 
 show you whether or not I am in earnest." 
 
 She was silent for a minute, which seemed 
 an hour to him. Then she said, abruptly, 
 with the air of one who baa definitely made 
 up her mind : 
 
 " There is a train which passes Wexford 
 at ten o'clock at night for Alton, is there 
 not? How would that answer for your pur- 
 pose ? I should say our purpose, should I 
 not ? You know there will be some people 
 here for dinner this evening, and Leslie talks 
 of a moonlight croquet-party. It will afford 
 an excellent opportunity for leaving unob- 
 served." 
 
 " It will be an excellent opportunity," 
 said he, eager still, but certainly amazed. 
 He had not flattered himself with any antici- 
 pation of such quick success as this, and 
 and it rather astonished him. He attributed 
 it, however, to the resistless passion which, 
 despite all her asseverations to the contrary, 
 Xorah still felt for him ; and, being somewhat 
 beside himself with passion for her, he had 
 little disposition to find fault with it. "To- 
 night, then!" he said, quickly. "And now, 
 my darling, how can I " 
 
 Do what, was never determined ; for at 
 that moment she rose to her feet, looking at 
 her watch again as she did so. 
 
 " I find that I have considerably exceeded 
 the time which I allowed for your explana- 
 tion," she said, coolly. " Its novel and en- 
 
 grossing nature must be my excuse. I have 
 never before been invited to elope much less 
 to be actively instrumental in the jilting of 
 my own sister. Let me thank you for a new 
 sensation, Mr. Tyndale, as well as for half an 
 hour's excellent entertainment. And now, 
 good-morning ! " 
 
 She bent her head the mockery which, 
 of all her moods, he hated most, quivering 
 about her lips and shining in her eyes and 
 would have swept past him to the door, if he 
 had not stepped quickly forward and- barred 
 her path, as he had done once before ia that 
 very spot. 
 
 "By " he said, forgetting himself far 
 enough to utter a deep, bitter oath under 
 his breath, " you shall not go like this ! You 
 shall tell me the truth at least, before you do 
 go ! ' Have you deliberately been making a 
 fool of me ? Have you been lying to me with 
 your eyes and with your tongue all this time ? 
 Do you not mean to marry me, after all ? " 
 
 " Marry you ! " repeated she, turning upon 
 him with a scorn in her face and in her voice 
 which was fairly majestic " marry you, Ar- 
 thur Tyndale you ! Not if there was never 
 another man on all God's earth ! And when 
 you talk of my eyes or of my tongue lying 
 to you," she went on, indignantly, " it is you 
 .who lie ! you whose lips the truth seems lit- 
 erally incapable of crossing ! I have only 
 questioned you, and gauged, or tried to gauge, 
 the depths of your deceit. In doing this, I 
 have not only found you false in thought, 
 word, and deed, ready at a moment's notice 
 to act toward Leslie as you have already acted 
 toward me ; but I have also found you devoid 
 of one sentiment of generosity or one idea 
 of honor. Well as I knew you, I came here 
 to offer you my best services and my best ad- 
 vice for Leslie's sake. Xow, I am heartily 
 glad that you accepted neither. It leaves me 
 free to act as I think best. Let me pass, 
 sir ! I dare you, at your peril, to detain me 
 one half-second longer ! " 
 
 A man of thrice Arthur Tyndale's moral 
 courage would kave fallen back at that im- 
 perious command, and before the look of de- 
 fiance which accompanied her last words. 
 As he fell back, she passed out, and he 
 thus left alone sat down like one half- 
 stunned, and, flinging his arms across the 
 table, buried his face upon them. 
 
 When Xorah reached the house, she found 
 that even yet no one was stirring. The ser-
 
 116 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 vants had arisen in the interval of her ab- 
 sence and done their work, so that all the 
 lower apartments stood open, fair, and cool, 
 and fresh, to the early summer morning ; but 
 an enchanted palace could not have been 
 more still. She glanced at the large, old- 
 fashioned clock Mr. Middleton's special pet, 
 for it had been brought over from England 
 by his grandfather which faced her as she 
 entered the hall. It pointed to seven o'clock, 
 and she knew that breakfast was never ready 
 before nine. 
 
 " What am I to do with myself all this 
 time ? " she thought, with a slight feeling of 
 dismay. 
 
 Somehow one feels an odd, incumbent ne- 
 cessity to do something with one's self 
 something useful or virtuous when, by an 
 extraordinary chance, one is astir very much 
 in advance of one's usual time of rising. 
 Then Norah's pulses were still thrilling with 
 an excitement which even yet had not quieted 
 down. The first thing which occurred to her 
 was that she must change her dress, her dew- 
 draggled skirts bearing significant witness to 
 the wet grass which she had crossed, the 
 damp paths she had followed ; but, with two 
 unoccupied hours stretching before her, she 
 felt that there need be no hurry about this. 
 If she went up-stairs at eight o'clock, there 
 would be quite time enough for a much more 
 elaborate toilet than any she was likely to 
 make. Meanwhile the sitting-room looked 
 temptingly cool and delightful, with its half- 
 closed Venetian blinds, through which the 
 long, golden sunbeams of early morning were 
 stealing. She crossed the hall and went in. 
 After all, she must take time for reflection ; 
 she must consider at once what she meant to 
 do; -and there could be no better opportunity 
 for such consideration than the present. 
 
 As she entered the room, with her hat 
 still on her head, she was thinking of this so 
 deeply, and expecting so little to see any one, 
 that she had more than half-crossed the floor 
 before she became aware of the presence of a 
 gentleman, who rose from tbe depths of Mrs. 
 Middleton's favorite chair with an open news- 
 paper in his hand. 
 
 " Good-morning, Miss Desmond," he said. 
 
 And then, looking up with a start, Norah 
 found that she was advancing directly upon 
 Max Tvndale. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " For a chance to make your little much, 
 
 To gain a lover and lose a friend, 
 Venture the tree and a myriad such, 
 
 When nothing you mar, but the year can mend I 
 But a last leaf fear to touch. . . ." 
 
 " GOOD-MORNING, Miss Desmond." 
 "Good -morning, Captain Tyndale," an- 
 swered she. " Excuse my inattention, but I 
 was not expecting to see any one." 
 
 " You could not have been expecting it 
 less than I was," said he, smiling. " I know 
 the habits of the household so well that I 
 had resigned myself to at least two hours of 
 prospective solitude." 
 
 " Your resignation was apparently ac- 
 companied with philosophy,'" said she, glan- 
 cing from the newspaper to the arm-chair. 
 "Don't be alarmed, and imagine that I have 
 come to disturb you ! I am on my way up- 
 stairs to change my dress before breakfast ; 
 but I felt a little tired, and this room looked 
 cool and inviting." 
 
 " You seem to have been walking," said 
 he, glancing in turn from her hat to her dew- 
 stained boots and skirt. " Pray sit down " 
 he drew a chair forward. " You are not 
 disturbing me in the least." 
 
 " Thanks," said she, sinking almost in- 
 voluntarily into the soft depths. As she did 
 so, he saw that she was evidently more than 
 "a little tired." Indeed, she looked so ex- 
 hausted that for a second he was absolutely 
 startled. 
 
 "Shouldn't you like a fan?" he asked, 
 glancing round vaguely in search of one. 
 " Or water ? I can ring and have some 
 brought, if you say so." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " I shall do very well, thank you, without 
 any thing. I am only tired because I am 
 not accustomed to such matutinal exertion." 
 
 " If you are not accustomed to it, I 
 scarcely think you are wise to begin in this 
 climate, and at this time of year. Do you 
 not know that it is a maxim of health with 
 all Southern people to stay in-doors until the 
 dew is dried ? " 
 
 " If it is a maxim of health, it is one 
 which you seem to disregard witli impunity," 
 said she, looking at his boots. 
 
 " Oh, a soldier should not mind trifles, 
 you know," said he. (Max always fell back 
 on his profession when a question of health
 
 NORAH'S ARRANGEMENTS. 
 
 117 
 
 came up.) " Besides, I was restless last 
 night, I could not sleep something iu the 
 atmosphere, I suppose and there was noth- 
 ing for it but to turn out early this morning. 
 Arthur left the house before I did, and, fancy- 
 ing that he was coming over here to break- 
 fast, I followed. But it seems I was mista- 
 ken. If he is coming, he has not yet arrived." 
 
 He looked at Norah very steadily as he 
 uttered the last words, and Norah returned 
 his glance unflinchingly. 
 
 "I do not think Mr. Tyndale is coming," 
 she said. "At least, he did not mention 
 such an intention when I left him ten minutes 
 ago." 
 
 " You have seen him, then ! " said Max. 
 He could not help starting, though he added 
 almost involuntarily, as it seemed " I sus- 
 pected as much." 
 
 "I have had the pleasure of seeing him 
 by appointment," she proceeded, with a cool- 
 ness so unruffled that it amused even while it 
 perplexed him. "You suspected that, also, 
 perhaps." 
 
 " No," answered he, sitting down again 
 in the chair from which he had risen, and 
 looking at her very doubtfully much as he 
 might have looked at a spot where he had 
 reason to suspect the existence of masked 
 batteries "no, I did not suspect that." 
 
 " Yet what could have been more natu- 
 ral? Think how ruthlessly your friend Mrs. 
 Sandford interrupted the most tender point 
 of our interview at Strafford the other day, 
 and then wonder, if you can, that we should 
 have been anxious to resume it as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 " I have ceased to wonder at any thing 
 which a woman may say or do," answered 
 he, dryly. " Whether you are in earnest or 
 whether you are in jest, Heaven only knows 
 but, in either case, your conduct is quite 
 inexplicable to me." 
 
 " Is your cousin's conduct any more ex- 
 plicable to you ? " asked she. " Or have you 
 ceased, also, to wonder at any thing which a 
 man may do ? Of the two, that would be the 
 more useful frame of mind." 
 
 " My cousin's conduct is sufficiently ex- 
 plicable," said he, with his whole face dark- 
 ening. "He is not the first man whom I 
 have known to forget where his honor and 
 faith are due ! " 
 
 " It would be rather difficult to decide to 
 whom your cousin's honor and faith arc due, 
 
 would it not ? " said she, carelessly. " A 
 little while ago, he thought that they were 
 due to Leslie. Now he decides that they are 
 due to me." 
 
 " Does ho ? " said Max, his face darkening 
 still more ; " and I suppose you agree with 
 him ? " 
 
 " Could I do other than agree with him ? 
 I ask you, Captain Tyndale you who have 
 been prejudiced against me from the begin- 
 ning whether his honor and faith (as much 
 as he has of either) do not belong to me by a 
 better right than they do to Leslie ? " 
 
 " If you mean that he was bound to you 
 first, I grant that" (a little reluctantly). 
 " But still" 
 
 " But still," her lip curling proudly, " a 
 Bohemian like myself a bit of vagabond, 
 flirting material should know better than to 
 take aii pied <Ie la letire all that a fine gentle- 
 man may chance to say in the course of a 
 summer idling ! " 
 
 " I was not going to say that, Miss Des- 
 mond. You know I was not going to say 
 that ! " 
 
 " What docs it matter whether you were 
 going to say it or not ? You meant it. And 
 you are not far wrong. Of course, it would 
 be nonsense to talk of Mr. Tyndale's being 
 bound to me if he was not good enough to 
 allow the fact himself." 
 
 If she had not taken pleasure just then 
 in mocking herself in the bitterness of her 
 spirit, she might have laughed outright at 
 the expression of Max's eyes as he regarded 
 her it was so grave and so thoroughly puz- 
 zled. What to make of her he certainly did 
 not know. She had been an enigma to him 
 from the first. One while he thoroughly dis- 
 trusted, and again as thoroughly trusted her. 
 Now he did neither ; he simply wondered 
 what she meant. 
 
 " Captain Tyndale," she snid, suddenly, 
 with impetuous decision, " why should we not 
 speak plainly and understand each other? 
 We have nothing to lose ; we may have some- 
 thing to gain by it. I am a waif and a stray, 
 who may naturally be supposed to want a 
 home, who may naturally be excused for 
 taking one, even under slightly unfavorable 
 circumstances, if it were offered. You are 
 in love with Leslie. Nay " holding up her 
 hand imperatively, as he attempted to speak 
 " hear me out. We may serve each other's 
 interests better than you think at least I
 
 118 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 may serve your interests. What will you 
 give me, for example, to accept an offer of 
 marriage which Mr. Tyndale has generously 
 made to me this morning the fulfillment, 
 you know, of our two years' engagement 
 and in this way leave the coast clear for 
 you ? " 
 
 " Miss Desmond ! " 
 
 It was fairly a gasp. Never had Max 
 Tyndale been so thoroughly astonished never 
 had his breath been so completely taken away 
 by any creature born of woman as by this 
 audacious girl. She had pushed her hat back 
 from her flushed, beautiful face ; her defiant 
 eyes faced him fully. If she was not in 
 earnest, it was at least certain that no one 
 ever appeared more thoroughly so. 
 
 " Well," she said, after a minute, quite 
 impatiently, " I am waiting for your answer. 
 You cannot deny that you are in love with 
 Leslie. I have seen that from the first, and 
 my eyes never deceive me. Now, if I elope 
 with Arthur, as he is kind enough to pro- 
 pose that I should do, you will be able, with 
 the least possible exercise of discretion and 
 judgment, to step into his vacated place." 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me," said Max, de- 
 liberately, "that you are in earnest that 
 Arthur has seriously asked you to elope with 
 him?" 
 
 " I am so entirely in earnest that the af- 
 fair is all arranged. We are to take French 
 leave of Leslie's croquet-party to-night, to 
 drive to Wexford,'and take the ten-o'clock 
 train for Alton. Arrived in the latter place, 
 we can be married at once, and sail for Eu- 
 rope immediately thereafter. Voild tout ! " 
 
 "Arthur proposed this!" said Max, his 
 breath coming short and hard, " and you 
 may I venture to ask what you said to such 
 an arrangement ? " 
 
 "Can you doubt that I dropped a cour- 
 tesy, and thanked very humbly the gentleman 
 who was kind enough to reward my long con- 
 stancy by such a gratifying offer ? " 
 
 " I can imagine any thing in (he world 
 sooner than that you accepted it," said he, 
 bluntly. 
 
 "And pray why not ?" asked she. "Is 
 it not more than good enough for me ? Eah ! 
 Captain Tyndale, a truce to nonsense. Tell 
 me, instead, whether you are prepared to take 
 advantage of the golden opportunity which 
 Arthur and I liberally aided and abetted by 
 Mrs. Sandford mean to give you? " 
 
 " If you will excuse me," said Max, " it is 
 you who are talking nonsense. I no more 
 believe that you have agreed to elope with 
 Arthur well, than I believe that you have 
 agreed to elope with me ! " Then, after a 
 short pause : " If you will only meet me 
 frankly, as you did once before, and tell me 
 what he has really said, and what you really 
 mean to do, I shall be infinitely indebted to 
 you." 
 
 " That is exactly what I don't know. I 
 have no idea what I mean to do, or what I 
 ought to do," answered she, suddenly drop- 
 ping her tone of defiant mockery, and looking 
 at him with grave, anxious eyes. " What 
 shall I do ? Shall I pack my trunk, and tell 
 Leslie the truth, or shall I simply leave her 
 to lenrn, suspect, or guess it, as best she 
 can ? " 
 
 " God knows ! " answered he. " The mat- 
 ter has grown so complicated that it is far 
 beyond my diplomatic abilities, which, as 
 you are aware, were never of the best. It 
 seems impossible to leave Miss Grahame in 
 ignorance of Arthur's conduct, and yet it will 
 be a terrible thing to tell her the truth." 
 
 "But if we leave it untold, there is Mrs. 
 Sandford ready to enlighten her," said Norah. 
 
 He glanced at her quickly and keenly. 
 
 " You know, then, that Mrs. Sandford was 
 in the library at Strnfford when " 
 
 " When our preux chevalier offered me his 
 hand and heart or I believe it was only his 
 heart on that occasion ? " she said, as he 
 paused. " Yes, I know it. So Leslie may 
 hear the truth or at least a garbled version 
 of it any day." 
 
 " There, I think, you are mistaken," said 
 he. " Mrs. Sandford promised me yesterday 
 that she would, on no consideration, mention 
 the matter to Miss Grahame." 
 
 " Mrs. Sandford promised ! " repeated No- 
 rah. She leaned her head against the back 
 of her chair and laughed. It was impossible 
 to avoid it; she had heard something like 
 this so very recently. " How you men do 
 believe in women sometimes!" she said. 
 " In pretty, innocent widows especially ! I 
 have discovered the 'open sesame' to your 
 affections and trust, and, when I am thirty, I 
 shall act as if I were six. Then I may be able 
 to play eavesdropper in a library-window, and 
 yet be credited with the most high-minded 
 and honorable sentiments imaginable." 
 
 " It is scarcely fair to call Mrs. Sandford
 
 THE CAPTAIN ADMONISHED. 
 
 119 
 
 an eavesdropper," said Max, who liked Miss 
 Desmond's caustic tone with regard to her 
 own sex least of any thing about her. "It 
 was purely accidental her being in the library, 
 and she regretted it exceedingly." 
 
 " Indeed ! " (very dryly). " I confess 
 my credulity is not as great as your own- 
 perhaps because my appreciation of infantine 
 blue eyes is less lively. It seems to me that 
 if Mrs. Sandford had regretted the accident 
 which revealed to her a matter in which she 
 had no possible concern, she would have 
 held her tongue." 
 
 " I think she will hold it as far as Miss 
 Grahame is concerned." 
 
 " That is to say, you have faith in your 
 influence over her. Well, you can best judge 
 of the extent of that." 
 
 " I see that you have very little faith in 
 it." 
 
 " You are mistaken. I only thiuk that 
 she does not love Caesar less, but Rome more 
 in other words, her devotion to you is great, 
 but her devotion to mischief-making is even 
 greater." 
 
 " We shall sec." 
 
 " Yes, we shall see. Meanwhile, have we 
 decided upon any course of action ? I must 
 determine what to do." 
 
 " It is a hard matter to tell," said he, 
 having recourse to the ends of his long mus- 
 tache, and beginning to twist them very hard 
 indeed. After a short time spent in this way, 
 he looked up with a deprecation which sat 
 oddly on his face. 
 
 " Don't think me very weak-minded, Miss 
 Desmond, if I beg you to defer any definite 
 action for say twenty-four hours ! Give me 
 this time in which to sound Arthur, and find 
 what he really desires and means to do. I 
 you can't tell how hard it is for me to make 
 up my mind to the necessity that Miss Gra- 
 hame must hear the truth." 
 
 " And yet how eagerly many men in your 
 position would grasp such an opportunity !" 
 said she, looking at him meditatively. 
 
 He flushed a very unusual thing with 
 him. " Permit me to say that your imagina- 
 tion has led you entirely astray with regard 
 to the feeling which I entertain for Miss Gra- 
 hame," he said. "I will not deny that she 
 charms my taste more than any other woman 
 I have ever known, and no doubt, if she had 
 been free, I should very easily have fallen in 
 love with her ; but she was not free even in 
 
 fancy when I met her first. Therefore, that 
 which might have been love stopped short at 
 sincere friendship." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Korah again. It must 
 be confessed that she arched her eyebrows a 
 little incredulously. The young Bohemian 
 had learned to look with very much the eye 
 of a cynic upon any thing verging on pla- 
 tonics. 
 
 " Well," she said, after a short pause, " I 
 am quite willing to give you twenty -four 
 hours in which, to decide what ' sincere 
 friendship ' may dictate with regard to tell- 
 ing Leslie the truth. But I should not advise 
 you to be influenced by any thing which your 
 cousin may promise or affirm. Captain Tyn- 
 dale," she said, with sudden energy, " there 
 is no truth in that man ! If you do not' re- 
 alize and remember this, you will regret 
 it." 
 
 " I realize it fully," answered he, some- 
 what sternly, " and I do not think there is the 
 least danger of my forgetting it." 
 
 At this point the conversation ended. 
 The clock struck eight, and, like another Cin- 
 derella, Norah rose. " I must go," she said. 
 "I have my breakfast toilet yet to make, 
 and if I stay longer, some one may come 
 down and find us tete-d-tete, which would be 
 awkward for you ! " 
 
 " Pray don't trouble yourself on my ac- 
 count," said he. " I am not particularly afraid 
 of Mrs. Grundy." 
 
 But, as he spoke, she left the room. 
 
 At breakfast everybody seemed languid 
 a very usual result of the exhausting heat of 
 a Southern summer-night. As they came in 
 one after another, the gentlemen in cool 
 linen, the ladies in their lawns, significant 
 signs of lassitude showed in their faces and 
 movements. Mrs. Middleton did not appear 
 at all, and Leslie looked unusually pale as she 
 sat at the head of the table pouring out cof- 
 fee, which was as clear as brandy and " strong 
 enough to knock a man down," the cook had 
 said. Mrs. Sandford seemed to have fared 
 better than any of the party, though she was 
 most voluble in her complaints of enervation 
 and heat. When Xorah came in, she found 
 her describing graphically her attempts to 
 sleep during the night. " What between the 
 mosquitoes and the heat, one was in a regu- 
 lar quandary," she said. " One could not put 
 up one's bars, on account of the mosquitoes, 
 nor keep them down on account of tlie heat.
 
 120 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 I confess I spent the night doing first one 
 thing and then another." 
 
 " And I spent it in smoking," said Carl, 
 dropping a lump of sugar into his coffee-cup 
 and motioning the cream -jug disdainfully 
 away. " What a pity you had not thought 
 of that ! It would have enabled you to defy 
 both mosquitoes and heat." 
 
 " I will take a supply of paper and to- 
 bacco up-stuirs with me to-night, and amuse 
 myself making cigarettes," said she. "Miss 
 Desmond, will you join me ? Or, better still, 
 can't we all sleep to-day, and spend the night 
 on the lawn ? " 
 
 " Some of us might bo very well disposed 
 to sleep to-day, without any ultimate design 
 of spending the night on the lawn," said Mr. 
 Middleton. Then to Carl : " Will you tell me 
 what possessed you to get up and knock the 
 chairs about over my head at daylight this 
 morning ? " 
 
 " I had really forgotten that your head 
 was below me," answered Carl, " but I cannot 
 remember that I did any particular knock- 
 ing about of chairs. I chanced to be up at 
 daylight simply because I had been up all 
 night." 
 
 " It was you, then, whom I heard going 
 down-stairs somewhere about five o'clock ? " 
 
 " It may have been I : I did go down- 
 stairs shortly after that hour." 
 
 He looked across the table at Norah as 
 he uttered the last words it was a look com- 
 pounded strangely of misery and triumph a 
 look which said as plainly as words could 
 have done, that he was aware of her inter- 
 view with Tyndale ; and unfortunately others 
 besides Norah were able to read its jealous 
 significance. These others were Mrs. Sand- 
 ford and Leslie Max might be added, only 
 Max understood the full meaning of the 
 glance, which they did not. A sharp pang 
 seized Leslie's heart. At that moment she 
 thought only of Norah. What was Norah 
 doing ? what was going on between Carl 
 and herself? what did that glance mean ? 
 It was too plainly, too desperately in earnest, 
 not to mean something. In truth, Carl had 
 forgotten himself and shot a veritable thun- 
 der-bolt of war out of those brown, laughter- 
 loving eyes of his. Norah received the thun- 
 der-bolt composedly, but Mrs. Sandford gave 
 a little dramatic start and looked at Max. 
 She remembered the note of the night before, 
 and it suddenly occurred to her, as it had oc- i 
 
 curred to Carl, that it might have meant an 
 appointment. 
 
 Nothing more was said on the subject, 
 however, and breakfast passed rather more 
 silently than this sociable meal usually did at 
 Rosland. After breakfast Max pleaded " busi- 
 ness " as an excuse, and went back to Straf- 
 ford, much to Mrs. Sandford's disgvet. She 
 had flattered herself that her presence was 
 the magnetic attraction which had drawn him 
 forth at such an early hour, and she had in- 
 tended to take him into the shrubbery again 
 for the benevolent purpose of confiding to him 
 the whole history of the note at night, and 
 the appointment of the morning. But Max 
 was deaf to her hints, and blind to the implor- 
 ing glances of her eyes. Back to Strafford he 
 went, and the pretty mischief-maker was left 
 disconsolate. Carl, meanwhile, had met No- 
 rah in the hall after breakfast, and spoken in 
 the most open and decided manner. 
 
 " I must sec you alone," he said. " Will 
 you come and take a walk with me ?" 
 
 " Is there any necessity why you s,hould 
 see me alone ? " she asked. " It is very warm 
 for walking." 
 
 " We can go to the summer-house," he an- 
 swered. "It will not be much warmer there 
 now than it was at five o'clock this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 In making this remark, he -was not aware 
 that Mrs. Middleton was coming down the 
 staircase just behind him, else he might not 
 have spoken either so loudly or so significant- 
 ly. Norah, who was aware of the fact, saw at 
 once that she could not provoke any further 
 allusion to her five-o'clock appointment. She 
 extended her hand, therefore, and, lifting her 
 hat from the table near by, said, coldly : 
 
 " We can take a short walk, if you desire 
 it." 
 
 He had no cause to congratulate himself, 
 however, for no sooner were they safely out 
 of the house than she turned upon him haugh- 
 tily. 
 
 "What is the meaning of this?" she 
 'asked. "What right have you to demand an 
 interview with me in such a manner as this ? " 
 
 "As much right as Mr. Tyndale had to ap- 
 point one, I suppose," answered he, losing all 
 control of himself. 
 
 But he saw in a moment that he had made 
 a mistake. There was nothing of tameness 
 in the lightning that flashed upon him from 
 Xorah's eves.
 
 CARL AS A SPY. 
 
 "You forget yourself !" she said. "The 
 distinction which makes a difference between 
 Mr. Tyndale and yourself is the distinction of 
 my choice. I chose to meet him this morn- 
 ing: I do not choose to walk with you now. 
 Therefore, I shall return to the house." 
 
 She turned majestically; but, as she did 
 so, he turned also, and, keeping close to her 
 side, spoke with imploring haste. 
 
 "Pray forgive me!" he said. "I have 
 offended you. I should not have said that. 
 But, if you could know how wretched, how 
 miserable, I am ! " 
 
 It was almost identically the same thing 
 which Tyudale had said before him. At this 
 repetition, Xorah's patience never, as we are 
 aware, of particularly long tether altogether 
 gave way. 
 
 " And, pray, why should I desire to 
 know ? " she asked. " It cannot be particu- 
 larly interesting to learn exactly how wretched 
 and miserable you may chance to fancy your- 
 self. On the contrary, you must excuse me 
 if I say that a spy deserves to be miser- 
 able ! " 
 
 " And you think I am a spy ! " he said, a 
 deep, burning flush overspreading his face. 
 
 " Can I think otherwise ? " she asked, 
 pausing for the better convenience of facing 
 him. " Can you deny that you watched, that 
 you even followed, me this morning ? What 
 is that but the conduct of a spy ? " 
 
 " It is the conduct of a man who loves you 
 too well to think of any thing but that love ! " 
 he answered. 
 
 But the manner in which her short upper 
 lip curled was not particularly encouraging to 
 this plea. " A man of honor loves like a man 
 of honor," she said. "He may forget every 
 thing else, but he never forgets his hon- 
 or." 
 
 Carl's brow knitted, and his hands invol- 
 untarily clinched themselves. It was hard 
 work to keep down the excitement within 
 him, hard work to allow no expression to the 
 overmastering force of his jealous and resent- 
 ful passion. 
 
 " I do not think that I have quite forgotten 
 my honor," he said, with a sort of forced 
 calmness that sat strangely on him, and did 
 not promise exceedingly well for fair weather 
 ahead in the way of temper. "At least I 
 have never made love to one woman while I 
 was engaged to another." 
 
 " What extraordinary self-control ! " said 
 
 Norah. " But, if a man has never robbed a 
 henroost, is that any reason why he should 
 feel particularly virtuous in stealing a hare ? " 
 
 It was now Carl's turn to draw himself up 
 haughtily : the homeliness of the comparison 
 made it doubly odious. 
 
 " You misunderstand me entirely if you 
 think that I acted as a spy upon your move- 
 ments this morning," he said. " I spoke the 
 honest truth at breakfast when I said that I 
 had been up all night, and I was just thinking 
 of turning in when I saw you leave the house 
 and cross the lawn. I was very much sur- 
 prised you can credit that, I am sure and, 
 suspecting that you had gone to meet Tyn- 
 dale, I I simply wished to set ray suspicions 
 at rest one way or another. So I followed 
 you, and, as soon as I saw that you had gone 
 to meet him, I came away." 
 
 "Naturally after having gained all that 
 you wanted," said she. 
 
 " And now," said he, ignoring the con- 
 temptuous indifference of her tone, " I want 
 to ask if this is to continue ? How has this 
 man so much influence over you, that you 
 you whom he has denied and insulted will 
 accord him private interviews, and keep ap- 
 pointments which he has made ? " Then, 
 waxing more passionate : " How does he dare 
 to trifle with you like this ? Is it because he 
 knows, or thinks, that you have no defender? 
 Norah Miss Desmond only say one word, 
 and I will show him how far you are from 
 being defenseless ! " 
 
 All this, which might have been very ab- 
 surd and melodramatic, was, in truth, so deep- 
 ly, tragically earnest, that even Norah felt 
 no inclination to laugh. Young as she was, 
 she had seen much of the mischief which the 
 passions of men sometimes work even in this 
 eminently practical age of ours, and there- 
 fore she felt a little uneasy as she faced the 
 desperate, passionate eyes of the man before 
 her. She certainly did not want another 
 complication of trouble on her hands. Per- 
 haps it was on this account that her voice 
 was softer when she spoke again. 
 
 " How often must I tell you that I need 
 no defender ? I am able to take care of my- 
 self if a dozen Arthur Tyndales were matched 
 against me, instead of one ! " 
 
 " Are you sure of that ? " he asked. He 
 did not say, as he had done once before, that 
 he knew she was. Besides being desperate 
 and passionate, his eyes were just then full
 
 122 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 of painful doubt. Like Max, ho too was 
 puzzled what to think of her. 
 
 " You know how I love you," he went on, 
 wistfully, after a moment. " You know how 
 happy I should be if you would only make 
 this love of some account to you! if you 
 would only let me make it a shield to hold 
 between you and the world ! If you would 
 only give me the right which, if you do not 
 give me, I may take for myself, to call this 
 scoundrel to account ! I have tried to be pa- 
 tient, but I can bear it no longer Norah, is 
 there no hope for me ? " 
 
 Norah looked at him intently as he stood 
 before her eager, impassioned, desperately 
 in earnest. The protection that he offered 
 was much, the love that he offered was more, 
 the wealth and position that he could give 
 were most of all in the scale of temptation to 
 this girl who had been an outlaw from her 
 birth. But outlaw and Bohemian though she 
 was, the instinct of the woman was strong 
 within her that divine instinct which, un- 
 warped by social training, recoils even from 
 love, when love in turn does not rise to wel- 
 come it. 
 
 " Why should I give you hope ? " she 
 asked at List, very slowly. " I suppose I 
 ought to thank you for loving me though 
 really I should have much preferred you had 
 not but I do not love you." 
 
 " That may be because you still love Ar- 
 thur Tyndale," said he, bitterly. 
 
 It would have been an ill-advised speech 
 to make to any woman. To Norah Desmond 
 it was a speech which signed and sealed his 
 metaphorical death - warrant at once. She 
 drew herself up to the full height of her 
 stately figure, the eloquent blood flashing 
 into her fair cheeks, her eyes expanding with 
 their superb full-orbed glow. 
 
 " A few minutes ago I was foolish enough 
 to imagine that the sentiment of love included 
 that of respect," she said. " You are kind 
 enough to show me my mistake. At least, it 
 is impossible to imagine that you can enter- 
 tain the faintest semblance of such a feeling 
 for the woman whom you insult by declaring 
 that she may be in love with the man who is 
 engaged to her sister! Understand, 01106 for 
 all, that this subject is ended between us ! " 
 she went on, with a sharp edge to her voice. 
 "If you have clung to a single thread of hope 
 up to this time, I snap it now ! Henceforth 
 you have no concern with me or my affairs. 
 
 It does not matter to you what I choose to 
 do, or whom I choose to meet. When you 
 made yourself a spy upon me, you ended at 
 once and forever any regard which I felt, or 
 might have learned to feel, for you ! " 
 
 Pitiless as youth is prone to be, and too 
 angry to care what dangerous strife of pas- 
 sions she might have awakened, she turned 
 and walked away, leaving those stinging 
 words behind her. This time Carl made no 
 effort to follow. He only felt, as he watched 
 her cross the shadow-dappled lawn and enter 
 the house, that he had, with rude, impatient 
 hand," shaken down his last leaf of hope. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " Not from the heart beneath 
 'Twas a bubble born of breath, 
 
 Neither sneer nor vaunt 
 
 Nor reproach nor taunt 
 See a word how it severeth I 
 Oh, power of life and death 
 In the tongue, as the preacher saith ! " 
 
 " LESLIE," said Mrs. Middleton, gravely, 
 "I really do not like the manner in which 
 things seem to be going on between Carl and 
 Miss Desmond." 
 
 For a wonder, the two ladies of the house 
 were alone. After Max had taken his de- 
 parture, and Norah and Carl had disappeared, 
 Mrs. Sandford had retired to her chamber 
 in a fit of misanthropy, probably and Mrs. 
 Middleton, entering the sitting-room, found 
 Leslie quite alone and quite idle, with a 
 strange, preoccupied look on her face. It was 
 so unusual to see Leslie idle ; and so entirely 
 without precedent, to see her wear that intro- 
 spective expression, that her aunt might have 
 been startled into uneasiness if her thoughts 
 at that time had not been full of Carl's infat- 
 uation and its probable consequences. As it 
 was, the significant attitude, and more sig- 
 nificant expression, only made a momentary 
 impression upon her. 
 
 "What has happened, auntie?" asked 
 Miss Grahame, looking up. " What is going 
 on between Carl and Norah that you do not 
 like?" 
 
 " You might see what is going on," an- 
 swered the elder lad} 1 , in a vexed tone. "Of 
 course, you may say that flirtation does not 
 generally mean any thing; but when it is 
 flirtation between a man as headstrong as
 
 MRS. MIDDLETOX AND LESLIE. 
 
 Carl, and a girl who is naturally anxious to 
 establish herself in life, like Miss Desmond, 
 it may come to mean a great deal." 
 
 " I am afraid Carl is very much in love 
 with Xorah," said Leslie, in the tone of one 
 who makes a reluctant admission. " But I 
 really do not think she is in the least in love 
 with him." 
 
 " In love ! " repeated Mrs. Middleton, im- 
 patiently. " Who talked of her being in 
 love ? Do you suppose that a woman like 
 Libs Desmond is likely to marry for love? " 
 
 "I don't know," answered Leslie, doubt- 
 fall}'. Somehow the question brought a slight 
 cloud over her face. Was she only just be- 
 ginning to realize how little she knew of this 
 strange sister of hers ? 
 
 " The mere idea is absurd ! " said her 
 aunt, with decision. " Women of Miss Des- 
 mond's stamp I put the unfortunate circum- 
 stances of her life entirely out of considera- 
 tion are the last women in the world to in- 
 troduce a matter of sentiment into the im- 
 portant business of their establishment. If 
 Carl is mad enough to offer himself, you may 
 be sure that she will accept him without any 
 hesitation on the score of what she may or 
 may not feel for him ! " 
 
 " Carl has been in love very often before," 
 said Leslie, by way of consolation. 
 
 " That makes it all the worse," promptly 
 rejoined Mrs. Middleton. " He has now passed 
 the age for boyish fancies, and this is likely 
 to be a serious matter. You know his tem- 
 perament you know how impulsive he is 
 about every thing. Leslie, I am sorry to 
 reproach you, but if you had only listened to 
 the advice of your uncle and myself, none of 
 this trouble would have come to pass." 
 
 " Yet I did not think of myself I meant 
 to act for the best," said Leslie. She spoke 
 more to herself than to her aunt. She seemed 
 to be answering some inward appeal. She 
 had not thought of herself, she had meant to 
 act for the best for Xorah and for Kate 
 why, then, should this strange, new suspicion, 
 this complicating trouble of more than one 
 kind, have sprung from what she had done ? 
 
 " My darling, who knows that better than 
 I ? " said Mrs. Middleton, coming over and 
 kissing her. "Don't think that I am blam- 
 ing you I would not do that for tte world 
 I only mean, (/"you had listened, Leslie !" 
 
 " Yes, I know it is all my fault," said 
 Leslie. " You may blame me as much as 
 
 you like, and I am very sorry that I have 
 brought anxiety to Uncle George and your- 
 self; but still I have a conviction it is 
 borne in upon me, as the Quakers say that 
 Xorah will never marry Carl." 
 
 Mrs. Middleton shook her head. Just 
 then she stood as the personification of 
 worldly wisdom, and worldly wisdom de- 
 clined to credit the idea of a girl, without a 
 shilling, refusing to marry a man who was 
 young, sufficiently good-looking, of fair for- 
 tune, and unexceptionable social position. 
 
 " There is no question but that she will 
 marry him if he is foolish enough to offer 
 himself," said the worldly-wise woman. " If 
 you could have heard what I did a few min- 
 utes ago ! I was coming down-stairs, and 
 they were in the hall. Carl asked Miss Des- 
 mond to go to walk, and she answered that it 
 was too warm. Then he said, in the most 
 significant tone a tone which plainly meant 
 something which they both understood that 
 they could go to the summer-house, where it 
 would not be warmer than at five o'clock this 
 morning. Miss Desmond was apparently 
 about to refuse, but, looking up at that mo- 
 ment and seeing me, she took her hat and 
 went. Now, Leslie, I would not say any 
 thing in the world to hurt your feelings, but 
 you can ask yourself whether any but a very 
 fast girl would be likely to act in such a man- 
 ner as that." 
 
 " In such a manner as what ? It does 
 not follow that Xorah was at the summer- 
 house at five o'clock, because Carl said that 
 it is no warmer there now than it was then,'* 
 answered Leslie, though her heart sank. She 
 remembered the glance at the breakfast-table 
 a glance which did not look much as if 
 Carl had been the companion of Miss Des- 
 mond's walk, or the person with whom she 
 kept an appointment. 
 
 "The tone was more significant than the 
 words," said Mrs. Middleton, whose eyes and 
 ears were both more than ordinarily quick. 
 " My dear, there was something connected 
 with the summer-house at five o'clock, you 
 may be sure. When Miss Desmond saw me 
 she changed color, and you may judge wheth- 
 er she was likely or not to have done that 
 without cause." 
 
 Leslie answered nothing. She knew Xo- 
 rah's supreme self-possession too well to deny 
 this telling point. 
 
 " Besides," said Mrs. Middleton, " I
 
 124: 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 asked Robert, whom I met a moment later, 
 if he knew whether any one had left the 
 house very early this morning. He said that 
 the glass door at the end of the side-passage 
 was ajar when he first opened the house, and 
 (hat about seven o'clock Miss Desmond came 
 in from the shrubbery." 
 
 " But this only shows that she took a 
 walk," said Leslie. Her heart was growing 
 sorer every moment with a soreness of which 
 Mrs. Middleton did not even faintly guess ; 
 but she fought loyally for Xorah all the same. 
 " Surely, dear Aunt Mildred, there is no harm 
 in that. I don't think the straitest-laced per- 
 son in the world could call it improper to 
 take a walk in the shrubbery and come back 
 at seven o'clock. As for an appointment 
 with Carl why should she make an appoint- 
 ment with him when they can see each other 
 at any and every hour of the day ? " 
 
 Mrs. Middleton only shook her head again. 
 Proof she had none ; but her conviction was 
 as a mountain. 
 
 " There was something more than a mere 
 walk in question," she said. " Carl would 
 never have spoken, Miss Desmond would 
 never have looked, as they did, if there had 
 not been ! Leslie, what did I tell you the 
 day that she came ? Did I not tell you that 
 I distrusted her? This distrust has grown 
 with every hour since that time until now 
 now I feel confident that she is playing some 
 underhand game which will shock us dread- 
 fully when it comes to light ! " 
 
 " How can you say such a thing ? " said 
 Leslie. She grew suddenly pale. That feel- 
 ing which the French call a serrement du cceur 
 seized her in its terrible constriction. For a 
 minute she could not utter another word. 
 The scene of the preceding night rose before 
 her with startling vividness ; she seemed to 
 be looking again out of the shadowy dark- 
 ness down the long, lighted room to where 
 Norah sat in all her brilliant beauty at the 
 piano, with Arthur Tyndale's fair, handsome 
 face bending over her. She saw the slip of 
 folded paper pass from one to the other ; she 
 heard again Carl's bitter, jealous speech, the 
 memory of which came back to her like a 
 flash of illuminating light : " Perhaps they 
 lack an opportunity, and desire to make one." 
 Was that what five o'clock in the summer- 
 house meant ? 
 
 But she had a brave, proud heart, and she 
 refused to be overcome by the dark thoughts 
 
 and darker doubts which rushed upon her. 
 She set her back, as it were, against a wall, 
 crying out to her foes as they came, " I will 
 not yield to you ! I will not lower myself, 
 and, it may be, wrong others, by listening to 
 these demons of suspicion and jealousy which 
 I have all my life held in scorn !" And she 
 controlled all outward expression of that 
 which wrung her heart as few women of twice 
 her age could have done. It was strange, 
 but it is nevertheless true, that at this mo- 
 ment of all moments this moment when, in 
 a lower nature, the iron of suspicion would 
 have entered the soul to poison every gen- 
 erous impulse a dim, struggling sense of 
 something akin to the grand old noblesse oblige 
 came to Leslie. " This is the hour of trial," 
 an inward voice seemed to say. " Now prove 
 whether or not you are able to rise above it ! 
 Prove whether or not it is of necessity that this 
 pang should debase as well as torture you ! " 
 
 And she rose above it for the time, at 
 least. There was something almost heroic in 
 the effort which it cost her to turn to her 
 aunt and say quietly, though with slightly- 
 quivering lips : 
 
 " I think-^I hope that you wrong Xorah. 
 I do not believe that she would play an un- 
 derhand game of any kind. As for Carl, I 
 am almost sure that she has no idea of mar- 
 rying him." 
 
 " I can scarcely believe that," said Mrs. 
 Middleton. " But, if it were possible to find 
 out what she really means to do, I should be 
 in a measure relieved. Leslie, I don't want 
 to ask you to do any thing disagreeable, but 
 she is your sister, after all, and and if you 
 could find out something definite about her 
 intentions " 
 
 "I fear it is impossi " Leslie was begin- 
 ning, when the sound of a step, the rustle of 
 a dress in the hall, made her start and turn. 
 She expected to see Mrs. Sandford, but in- 
 stead it was Norah, who, having advanced to 
 the door, stood there, framed like a beautiful 
 picture. 
 
 For a moment that slight, embarrassing 
 pause fell which even the most highly-bred 
 people are sometimes unable to restrain when 
 a person of whom they have been talking 
 suddenly appears. 
 
 Then Mrs. Middleton broke the silence 
 with one of her courteous commonplaces. 
 
 " I am afraid you found the sun too warm 
 for walking, after all, Miss Desmond."
 
 THE TWO SISTERS. 
 
 "It is very warm," answered Norah; but 
 she did not say in words, or imply in manner, 
 that she had returned to the house on ac- 
 count of the heat. " Shall I disturb you if I 
 come iu?" she added, after a moment. 
 " You seemed so much engaged that I hesi- 
 tated." 
 
 " There was no need to hesitate ; you will 
 not disturb us in the least," answered both 
 ladies. 
 
 " Indeed, we were just speaking of you," 
 said Mrs. Middleton, taking the bull by the 
 horns with an ease which did her infinite 
 credit. 
 
 "Perhaps for that very reason I had bet- 
 ter not come in," said Norah. " You may 
 not have quite exhausted the subject, and, in 
 that case, it would be a pity to interrupt 
 you." 
 
 " We were not discussing, but only speak- 
 ing of you," said Leslie, with her sweet, frank 
 smile. " Is there not a difference ? But I 
 think you might trust your character in my 
 hands." 
 
 "I think I miglit," answered the other, 
 looking at her with a quick glance a glance 
 compounded strangely of various expressions 
 as she entered the room and crossed the 
 floor. 
 
 " Did not Carl come in with you ? " asked 
 Mrs. Middleton, looking at her in turn with 
 rather keen scrutiny as she sat down and un- 
 tied her hat. 
 
 " No," was the reply. " I left him in the 
 shrubbery." 
 
 " You did not go to the summer-house, 
 then ? " 
 
 " No " (as indifferently as before), " we 
 did not walk so far." 
 
 " It is too warm for walking," said Leslie, 
 quickly. This identical remark had been 
 made, on an average, at least fifty times a day 
 during the last week ; but Miss Grahame was 
 too anxious to change the conversation to 
 make any effort for novelty at that moment. 
 
 " It is very warm ! " said Mrs. Middleton, 
 with an equal degree of original brilliancy. 
 Then she opened her fan, and, rising, walked 
 away. "I had almost forgotten that I must 
 see Betsy," she said. Betsy was the house- 
 keeper, and quite a character in her line. 
 
 So it was that the two sisters found them- 
 selves alone. Leslie understood perfectly that 
 her aunt had gone, because she was anxious 
 to give her a fair opportunity to sound the 
 
 depths of Miss Desmond's intentions with re- 
 gard to Carl ; but Leslie, who would not have 
 felt a particular aptitude for such a task at 
 any time, was peculiarly conscious just now 
 of her utter inability to cope with Norah's 
 reticence and self-possession. She might 
 have been a little surprised if she had known 
 that Xorah was at that moment endeavoring 
 to determine how she could best sound the 
 depths of her character and intentions. 
 
 A minute of silence passed, which Leslie 
 was the first to break half timidly: 
 
 " We have seen so little of each other 
 since you have been here, Norah ! I wonder 
 if you have felt it as well as I ? It has really 
 pressed upon me with a constant weight of 
 regret. I have been sorry that there should 
 have been so many people to come between 
 us, so many social engagements to separate 
 us. We are not half so well acquainted as I 
 should like for us to be." 
 
 " Perhaps we are sufficiently well acquaint- 
 ed," said Norah, in her careless way. "Per- 
 haps, if you knew me better, you miglit not 
 like me at all. I think that you do like me a 
 little now," she added, with a slight, wistful 
 cadence in her tone. 
 
 "I like you very much, indeed," said Les- 
 lie, frankly ; " and I am sure I should soon 
 grow to love you dearly. How can you think 
 that, under any circumstances, I could possi- 
 bly not like you at all ? " 
 
 " Be2ause we have been reared so differ- 
 ently," was the response. " Because we must, 
 of necessity, possess so little in common. 
 We belong to different worlds ; we bear the 
 stamp of different trainings bear it not only 
 outwardly but inwardly and hence it may be 
 better that we should see each other (at least, 
 that you should see me) in the superficial 
 manner which you regret." 
 
 " I do not believe it," said Leslie. Despite 
 the suspicious tugging at her heart, it was 
 impossible for her to believe it, as she looked 
 at the face before her. " You wrong yourself 
 when you talk so ! You do not know what 
 some some people might imply ! They might 
 think that there was a radical defect in your 
 character or your training." 
 
 " They would not be far wrong," said the 
 other, bitterly. " A radical defect, did you 
 say? There might be a hundred, for all the 
 effort to the contrary any one ever made ex- 
 cept Kate Kate, who has been an angel ever 
 since she was born ! That is a queer thing
 
 126 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 to say of the daughter of a Bohemian adven- 
 turer, is it not? But, then, she comes of 
 Irish blood. And every man and woman and 
 child in Ireland has the blood of saints and 
 martyrs in their veins. You would never 
 guess it from some of us from papa or from 
 me, for example but it comes out in Kate." 
 
 " I should like to know Kate," said Les- 
 lie, smiling a little. "But, still, I am glad to 
 know you very glad ! And we are sisters, 
 Norah," she added. " Don't forget that ! I 
 feel half envious as I see your eyes light up 
 when you talk of Kate. She has had you, 
 and you have had her but /have had no- 
 body ! " 
 
 " You may envy me the possession of 
 Kate as much as you please, and with good 
 cause," said Norah, " but you need not envy 
 Kate the possession of me. I have given her 
 any amount of trouble all my life, or, rather, 
 all her life, for I am the oldest." 
 
 "If you have gone through the world 
 turning men's heads and breaking men's 
 hearts as you have done in the short time 
 you have been here, I scarcely wonder," said 
 Leslie. She saw her opportunity, and took 
 advantage of it after a fashion ; but she could 
 not help feeling mean as she did so. It seemed 
 like making an attempt to surprise Norah's 
 confidence. She might have spared her com- 
 punctions if she had only known how little 
 Norah's confidence was likely to be sur- 
 prised. 
 
 " Have I turned anybody's head or broken 
 anybody's heart since I have been here?" 
 asked that young lady. " I really think you 
 must be mistaken. One cannot work de- 
 struction at least, not that kind of destruc- 
 tion without being aware of it." 
 
 "Oh! I think one can," said Leslie. "At 
 least, I mean one may learn that one has 
 worked it too late." (" She is thinking of 
 Captain Tyndale ! " commented her hearer 
 mentally.) " But I am sure you will not pre- 
 tend to deny that Carl is in love with you ! " 
 
 "Why should I deny it?" asked Norah. 
 "It is no fault of mine, even^f it is a dis- 
 credit to him. But I thought you were talk- 
 ing of something which had occurred since I 
 came here." 
 
 "And had this occurred before you came 
 here, then ? " cried Leslie, astonished, but 
 somewhat relieved. "It has not been my 
 fault, after all ! " she thought. 
 
 " Perhaps I ought to refer you to your 
 
 cousin for an answer to that question," an- 
 swered Norah. " He had never done me the 
 honor to ask me to marry him, before we 
 came here ; but, of course, any woman, with 
 a grain of common-sense, knows when a man 
 is in love with her." 
 
 "And now that he has asked you for, 
 of course, he has " said Leslie, eagerly, " do 
 you mean to marrv him ? Norah, if this is 
 so" 
 
 " But it is not so ! " interposed Norah, 
 sharply. "What have you seen in me to 
 make you fancy such a thing ? " 
 
 " I have seen nothing whatever to make 
 me fancy that you are in love with Carl," said 
 Leslie, thinking that she would sound boldly, 
 since she was sounding at all. "But some 
 women that is, all women do not wait for 
 love in making up their minds to marry." 
 
 " That is very true, indeed ; and it would 
 ill become any one like me to talk high- 
 minded sentiment on such a subject, would 
 it not ? But still I may be permitted to say 
 that, if there are other things besides love to 
 be taken into consideration, there are also 
 other things besides carriages and horses 
 excellent as they are ! " 
 
 " Nobody can deny that," said Leslie ; but 
 she looked a little puzzled what was coming 
 next? 
 
 " Sympathy is the first of these things," 
 said Norah. " I don't mean romantic sym- 
 pathy union of heart and soul, and all that 
 absurdity but the rational sympathy of 
 tastes, habits, breeding, and inclinations. 
 This is essential. I would rather share a 
 garret and a crust of bread with a thorough- 
 ly sympathetic person, than live in a palace 
 with one whose ideas, tastes, and opinions 
 jarred upon, wearied, and yet controlled me. 
 The next great essential is freedom. I have 
 belonged from my birth to the Bedouins of 
 civilization. A tread-mill of commonplace do- 
 mestic or social life would prove so utterly 
 unendurable to me that no paraphernalia of 
 wealth no carriages, diamonds, millinery, or 
 furniture could reconcile me to it. I should 
 like money very much as much, I suppose, 
 as anybody else in the world but money 
 would be to me what it was to Robinson Cru- 
 soe on his desert island if I could not go into 
 the world my world to spend it. And, in 
 speaking of my world, you must not think 
 that I mean Bohemia I would gladly shake 
 off that to-morrow, if I could but I mean the
 
 A LOST OPPORTUNITY. 
 
 127 
 
 great world, the world in which people live, 
 instead of merely vegetating! So, you see" 
 smiling faintly and a little scornfully 
 " that your uncle and aunt may quiet their 
 anxiety. Though your cousin offers me sev- 
 eral very good gifts himself among the 
 number they are gifts in a form which would 
 be worse than useless to me. When the first 
 restlessness of youth is over, he will settle 
 down into the groove in which his fathers 
 and grandfntliers have walked before him. 
 Do you think that /could share such a life ? 
 Xot with the wild blood that is in my veins 
 not with the wild love of change and excite- 
 ment in my heart." 
 
 " But do change and excitement make 
 happiness ? " asked Leslie. 
 
 " Does any thing make happiness ? " was 
 the cynical rejoinder. " Of happiness as a 
 positive state, I know nothing. I am only 
 able to make my comparison by the greater 
 or lesser degree of misery and discomfort." 
 
 " Xorah ! " 
 
 " You see, I told you that perhaps it is as ; 
 well that our acquaintance heretofore has 
 been superficial," said Xorah. " If we knew 
 each other well, I should only shock you. 
 One who has been tossed about the world as 
 I have been is not likely to look at things as 
 you do, and I have always observed that hap- ' 
 py people regard with suspicion and distrust 
 the unfortunate class for whom life has not 
 been painted in rose-color. They look upon 
 it as a striking instance of the depravity of 
 human taste that anybody should choose to 
 be miserable in such an agreeable world." 
 
 " Where did you learn such ideas ? " asked 
 Loslie, in a tone of absolute pain. "Would 
 you believe me if I were to say that you are 
 entirely wrong ? " 
 
 " I am not sure how far I might perjure 
 myself if you looked at me with such wistful 
 eyes as those," answered Xorah, smiling. 
 " So perhaps I had better go " (she rose as 
 she spoke). " I was awake very early this 
 morning, and I feel like anticipating my siesta 
 by several hours." 
 
 " Awake very early this morning ! " Those 
 words brought back the doubts which, for a 
 moment, Leslie had forgotten. Her change 
 of countenance was so great and so entirely 
 beyond her control, that Xorah saw it and 
 r.topped short. " She suspects or knows part 
 of the truth !" she thought ; " shall I tell her 
 the rest ? " The words necessary for doing 
 
 so rushed to her lips. In another second they 
 would have found utterance, if the recollec- 
 tion of her promise to Max Tyndale had not 
 risen up and checked them. " Give me twen- 
 ty-four hours ! " he had said, and she had 
 promised to give them to him. To break 
 that promise was impossible, or seemed im- 
 possible to her. Still she could test Leslie 
 she could see if she were ready to meet the 
 truth. That would be something gained. 
 
 " We spoke a little while ago of marriage," 
 she said, slowly, " and of love. Do you 
 agree with me in thinking that if one had 
 put one's whole freight of happiness you 
 believe in happiness, you know upon the 
 truth or falsehood of a single person, and 
 that person was false instead of true, it 
 would be better to know it better to face 
 any bitterness or desolation than to live a 
 life, however sweet, that was built upon a 
 lie ? " 
 
 The earnestness of her voice, the steady 
 glow of her eyes, said even more than her 
 words. A great fear suddenly seemed to 
 come over Leslie. She felt as if she were 
 standing on the brink of something terrible, 
 of something that would shatter her whole 
 fabric of existence, of something which she 
 could not bear to know. For the first time 
 in her life, she shrank like a coward. 
 
 " I I cannot tell," she said. " Why 
 should you say such things ? Xo one whom I 
 know could possibly deceive me. But even 
 if it were so " with a pale, quivering ghost 
 of a smile " you know that where ignorance 
 is bliss it is always folly to be wise." 
 
 " /know it ! " said Norah. " Pardon me 
 it is the last tiling in the world which I 
 know or desire to learn. Give me the truth 
 always, at all times, and under all circum- 
 stances, even if it crushes my heart and ruins 
 my life ! It is entirely a matter of taste, 
 however. Let those live on lies who like 
 them. I have no disposition to force my 
 choice upon any one." 
 
 She turned away as she spoke ; but Les- 
 lie, moving forward quickly, laid her hand on 
 her arm. 
 
 " Stop ! " she said shortly, almost sternly. 
 " You must tell me what you mean. I scarcely 
 knew what I said, a minute ago. I have no 
 more desire to live on lies than you can have. 
 If if you know any thing which I ought to 
 hear, for Heaven's sake tell me what it 
 is!"
 
 128 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 But Norah had already said more than 
 she intended, and now bound in the fetters 
 of her promise to Max she found herself in- 
 volved, greatly to her disgust, in the absolute 
 necessity for an evasion. 
 
 " I merely put a case to you," she said. 
 " Every one does not think as I do. I was 
 anxious to know how you felt. I am glad 
 that you are brave enough to be able to face 
 the truth if it should ever be necessary for 
 you to do so. None of us can tell how soon 
 such a need may arise. But you must forgive 
 me if I have startled you. I did not mean to 
 do that." 
 
 " Did you not ? " said Leslie, and the faint, 
 quivering smile passed over her face again. 
 " Yet you spoke very much as if you meant 
 to speak with a purpose. Of course it rests 
 with yourself, however, to give an explana- 
 tion or not." , . ... 
 
 But, as she uttered these words, her eyes 
 were less proud than her lips. They asked 
 this explanation so plainly, so imploringly, 
 that Norah's conscience smote her as she 
 turned away. She felt that it would have been 
 hard to tell the truth ; yet it was still harder 
 to leave it untold. She could not force her- 
 self to say, " I have nothing to explain ; " so, 
 murmuring some half - incoherent words of 
 regret, she passed from the room, conscious 
 that she left behind an aching heart and a 
 lost opportunity. 
 
 This consciousness was not particularly 
 conducive to amiability, as she mounted the 
 stairs to her own room. She felt that every 
 thing was going wrong in the most exasper- 
 ating manner. Arthur, Leslie, Max, Carl 
 and Mrs. Sandford in the background were 
 so many different sources of annoyance and 
 anxiety. " After all, had I not better pack 
 my trunk and take the train to-night alone ? " 
 she thought. " This state of affairs cannot 
 continue long there is too much electricity 
 in the atmosphere. Perhaps it would be well 
 to escape the explosion." 
 
 Full of these thoughts she passed quickly, 
 and, as it chanced, almost noiselessly, across 
 the matting-covared floor of the upper hall to 
 her own chamber. As she opened the door, 
 she paused on the threshold. Had she mis- 
 taken the room? A quick glance at the 
 familiar furniture, and her own familiar be- 
 longings, assured her that she had not, yet a 
 graceful figure in a Nansook robe de chambre 
 was standing at the toilet-table, apparently 
 
 engaged in critically overlooking its miscel- 
 laneous articles. 
 
 When Mrs. Sandford retired to her own 
 room after breakfast, she felt as much out 
 of sorts as a very pretty widow, with a satis- 
 factory account at her banker's and a charm- 
 ing wardrobe in her trunk, could possibly 
 feel. Gratifying to her eyes had been the 
 sight of Captain Tyndale at the breakfast- 
 table, and still more gratifying to her feelings 
 the prospect of a demi-flirtation under the 
 convenient guise of confidential disclosures 
 touching the unquestionable guilt of Arthur 
 and Norah. To have a summary end put to 
 this prospect, was more than she could bear 
 with equanimity. Outraged by Max's de- 
 parture, she found it necessary to blame some 
 one besides himself. " That creature has been 
 talking to him ! " she thought for it is as- 
 tonishing how vexation will sharpen even dull 
 wits " she has been making out her case ! 
 Oh, if I only could speak to him tor a moment 
 if I could only tell him about the note last 
 night!" 
 
 Following hard upon this thought came 
 another. " If I only knew what was in that 
 note! I am sure that it was an appointment ! 
 I am sure she went out this morning to keep 
 it but if I only knew! He could not refuse 
 to believe such clear proof as that ; and it 
 really seems an incumbent duty to expose her 
 duplicity. To think of poor, dear Leslie ! 
 And then, there is Max himself; if I don't 
 show him beyond doubt what game she is 
 playing, he may be in her train next. Men 
 are such fools and I think two strings to her 
 bow are quite enough ! " 
 
 Moved by such high-minded reflections as 
 these, the next step was to consider how to 
 obtain a knowledge of what was in the note. 
 Clearly there was but one way of doing this 
 from the note itself. "If I could only see 
 it ! " mused she. " If there was only any way 
 of seeing it ! " Then, impatiently, " If I could 
 only think of any way of seeing it!" When 
 any one has gone as far as this, it is not dif- 
 ficult to go farther, it is not difficult to re- 
 solve, "I will find some way of seeing it!" 
 To this point Mrs. Sandford soon came. She 
 was not a person who was accustomed to 
 think much of right or wrong, of honorable 
 or dishonorable deeds. What she wished to 
 do was generally her criterion for what she 
 did do. She had never before wished to in- 
 terfere with any one's private correspondence,
 
 MRS. SANDFORD'S INQUISITIVENESS. 
 
 129 
 
 but, now that the emergency had arisen, she 
 could see no just cause or reason why she 
 should not find, read, and perhaps appro- 
 priate, Mr. Tyndale's note, if Miss Desmond 
 had been obliging enough to leave it within 
 her reach. 
 
 Of course, in order to institute such a 
 search, it was necessary to enter Miss Des- 
 mond's chamber, but of that Mrs. Sandford 
 thought lightly. It was so easily done that 
 really, as she said to herself, it seemed no 
 more than crossing her own floor. She had 
 only to step through one of her windows to 
 the balcony upon which it opened, and to 
 walk a few steps to find herself at the cor- 
 responding window of Norah's room. If they 
 had been established in their present quarters 
 with a view to possible contingencies of this 
 kind, every thing could not have been better 
 arranged. To plan a campaign and to exe- 
 cute it, the greatest generals have sometimes 
 found to be very different things ; but, in the 
 present instance, there was no more difficulty 
 in the execution than in the plan. This fair 
 general knew that Xorah had left the house 
 with Carl ; she fancied her safe for at least 
 an hour's flirtation in the shrubbery ; hence, 
 she felt no hesitation in leaving her own 
 room, in walking down the balcony, in open- 
 ing the half- closed Venetian blinds of the 
 adjoining chamber, and in boldly stepping 
 within. 
 
 Everything was cool and fresh and in per- 
 fect order The housemaid had finished her 
 work and gone. None of the loose odds and 
 ends, the thrown-off dresses and discarded 
 ribbons, of a later hour, were lying about. 
 The wardrobe had engulfed the first, the toi- 
 let-table, drawers, and boxes, had, no doubt, 
 received the last. Mrs. Sandford's glance 
 traveled critically round the room, as she 
 paused for a moment by the window. " It is 
 handsomer than mine ! " she thought, resent- 
 fully. " What do they mean by giving it to 
 Tier ! " It made little difference in her resent- 
 ment that, as a matter of fact, any one not 
 accustomed to appraising furniture might 
 have been puzzled to decide which was the 
 most luxurious of the two apartments; those 
 infantine blue eyes knew to a shilling the 
 probable cost of every article on which they 
 rested, and they wandered now from the 
 carved bedstead in an alcove, with its tent- 
 like canopy and draperies of white netting, 
 over the deep chairs and couches, the swing- 
 
 ing mirrors, the china, and marble, and lace, 
 and upholstery, which made a very pretty 
 " interior." On none of these things did they 
 rest, however. That distinction was reserved 
 for a small table standing near an end win- 
 dow, on which a large and more substantial 
 writing-desk than ladies generally use was 
 placed. 
 
 Now, confident as she was that there was 
 no danger of being surprised, Mrs. Sandford 
 had yet no disposition to waste time ; and, 
 crossing the floor, she at once began examin- 
 ing this desk. To her infinite disappoint- 
 ment and disgust, it was locked. She had 
 by this time so fully entered into the spirit 
 of what she was doing that, on making this 
 vexatious discovery, she at once seized a pen- 
 knife which lay open on the table, and, re- 
 gardless of consequences, tried to force the 
 lock. If it had been the toy which is usually 
 placed on ladies' desks, she could easily have 
 succeeded, but, for a wonder, it was firm and 
 strong, and guarded its trust faithfully. After 
 a minute she relinquished the attempt as 
 hopeless, and threw the knife impatiently 
 down. " Yet this proves that she has some- 
 thing to conceal ! " she said, aloud, almost 
 triumphantly. " If I could only open it if I 
 only could ! " 
 
 Since the gratification of this moderate 
 desire was impossible, save by recourse to 
 more desperate measures than any she felt 
 inclined to adopt, her next step was to look 
 about the room and see if she could find any 
 thing of a criminating nature which Norah 
 might have neglected to secure under lock 
 and key. Here, however, she found herself 
 baffled at all points. In the course of her 
 life, Miss Desmond had evidently learned 
 that the best of all policies is the policy of 
 caution. "With an extended knowledge of 
 young ladies' habits, and of the nooks and 
 corners into which they are most likely to 
 cram letters or notes, Mrs. Sandford found 
 herself entirely at fault. A moderate num- 
 ber of laces, ribbons, and frills, rewarded her 
 search ; but absolutely nothing of more im- 
 portance. The only scrap of any thing bear- 
 ing writing which she found was an envelope 
 that Norah had evidently addressed to her 
 sister, and then thrown aside because a blot 
 of ink had fallen upon it. This she at once 
 put into her pocket. " It may serve to com- 
 pare with some of her writing," she thought, 
 from which it will be perceived that Mrs.
 
 130 
 
 A DAUGHTER OP BOHEMIA. 
 
 Sandford was in training for a very excellent 
 detective, indeed. 
 
 This envelope she found in a side-drawer 
 of the toilet-table. There was a correspond- 
 ing drawer on the other side, which she had 
 not yet examined. Encouraged by her first 
 measure of success success which a less san- 
 guine nature might have esteemed very scant 
 she turned to explore this receptacle. 
 Blank disappointment awaited her blank 
 disappointment, and a dozen or two long- 
 legged hair-pins. It was while she was sur- 
 veying these with irritation that the door 
 opened, and Norah stood on the threshold ' 
 . For at least a minute Mrs. Sandford re- 
 mained in ignorance of her presence. She 
 glanced over the whole toilet-table critically, 
 opened the powder-box, sniffed at a bottle 
 of Farina cologne, tried the effect of a mosaic 
 ear-ring against her face, and finally, shrug- 
 ging her shoulders with an air of disgust, 
 turned away, to face the owner of the castle 
 which she had so coolly invaded. 
 
 She started violently, blushed crimson, 
 and for a moment was too much disconcerted 
 to find any words with which to account for 
 her presence. In truth, Norah's face and 
 manner were not particularly reassuring. 
 She made no attempt to conceal her indig- 
 nant surprise and anger as, after a second, 
 she advanced into the room, closing the door 
 behind her. 
 
 " Can I do any thing for you ? " she asked. 
 " Were you looking for any thing which I 
 can furnish ? " 
 
 If Mrs. Sandford had been in the palace 
 of truth she would certainly have replied that 
 she icas looking for something which Miss 
 Desmond could furnish ; but, as it was, she 
 recovered the use of her tongue to answer 
 with ready, though rather lame apology : 
 
 " I beg a thousand pardons ! I had no 
 idea I mean I thought you would not mind 
 if I came in to try the effect of your mirror. 
 Mine is one of the horrid broadening kind, 
 and it makes such a fright of me that I never 
 know how I look, or how my dresses sit. My 
 maid complains of it all the time, so I thought 
 I would just step over and try yours. I was 
 sure you would not object ! " 
 
 The last sentence was uttered with an np- 
 pealing look, which would have gone straight 
 to the heart of any man in the world. Per- 
 haps it was because Norah was not a man 
 that her heart rather hardened than softened 
 
 under its influence. She had an instinct of 
 the business which had brought this beguil- 
 ing creature into her chamber, and sLe did 
 not feel inclined to deal very gently with her. 
 
 " At the risk of seeming rude, I must say 
 that I do object to my room being entered in 
 my absence," she answered, even more cold- 
 ly than she had spoken before. " It strikes 
 me as a little singular, also, that you should 
 never have thought of trying the effect of my 
 mirror until you knew that I was out of the 
 house." 
 
 " I am sorry that I should have thought 
 of trying it at all ! " said Mrs. Sandford, crim- 
 soning again, partly from mortification, part- 
 ly from anger. " I certainly did not expect 
 such a reception as this ! But of course one 
 must make allowances," she added, bitterly. 
 " Courtesy is not cultivated in Bohemia, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " We certainly think it of less importance 
 than honesty," answered Norah, in her clear 
 voice. " You may spare your taunts, Mrs. 
 Sandford ! You could not sting me if you 
 were to try all day ; and how little you could 
 increase my knowledge of yourself, I may per- 
 haps let you know in the simple fact that I 
 am not at all surprised to find you here in 
 my absence. We are both guests in this 
 house, and, down-stairs, we must of necessity 
 meet on neutral ground ; but, in my own 
 room, you are certainly well aware of the rea- 
 sons why I feel no inclination to receive 
 you ! " 
 
 " I am perfectly well aware of a reason 
 why /might decline to come here," said Mrs. 
 Sandford, thinking that the sooner she car- 
 ried the war into Africa the better. "You 
 cannot help knowing, Miss Desmond, that, if 
 I chose to open my lips and betray your 
 your conduct to Leslie, your hours as a guest 
 in this house would be numbered." 
 
 " If I might venture to ask you to do me 
 a favor," said Norah, " it would be to open 
 your lips and betray my conduct to Leslie as 
 soon as possible. But, in truth, you dare not 
 do this ; you are not certain enough of the 
 ground on which you stand ; you did not 
 learn enough in the library window at Straf- 
 ford. Perhaps it is to a natural desire to in- 
 crease your knowledge that I owe the pleas- 
 ure of finding you here to-day ? " 
 
 Her piercing eyes seconded this point- 
 blank interrogation so well that, with a dis- 
 comfited sense of getting the worst of this
 
 NORAH AND THE WIDOW. 
 
 131 
 
 war of words, Mrs. Sand ford had no alterna- 
 tive but to turn away. 
 
 " I have already told you why I came," 
 she said. " I must repeat, however, that I 
 am exceedingly sorry for having yielded to 
 my impulse. I am so foolish I always do 
 yield to my impulses, and then I often regret 
 it. In spite of your great rudeness, I have 
 no intention of betraying to Leslie any thing 
 which I learned by pure accident in the li- 
 brary of that window at Strafford. I may be 
 weak I have no doubt that I am but I really 
 cannot think of inflicting such a blow upon 
 her. How you can reconcile your duplicity 
 with your conscience, Miss Desmond " 
 
 " My duplicity is my own affair," inter- 
 rupted Norah, " and I fear that my conscience 
 is too callous for even your eloquence to 
 make any impression upon it. Will you ex- 
 cuse me if I say that I came up-stairs to rest, 
 and that solitude is always my great essential 
 for rest ? " 
 
 " I can excuse any thing that you choose 
 to say on the score of your deficiencies of 
 breeding," answered Mrs. Sandford. " The 
 difficult thing to do will be to excuse myself 
 for having incurred such treatment. I shall 
 not forget it, Miss Desmond you may be 
 sure of that ! " 
 
 "If your memory is equal to your inven- 
 tion, I can readily credit that," said Norah, 
 coolly. 
 
 Then, 'walking to the door, she held it 
 open, while the other swept angrily out. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " Look in my face ; my name is Might-have-been ; 
 I am also called No-more, Too-late, Farewell ; 
 Unto thine ear I hold the Dead-Sea shell, 
 Cast up thy life's foam-fretted feet between ; 
 Unto thine eyes the glass where that is eeen 
 Which had Life's form and Love's, but by mv 
 
 epell 
 
 Is now a shaken shadow intolerable, 
 Of ultimate things unaltered the frail screen." 
 
 IT was probably a good thing it was cer- 
 tainly not a thing to be regretted that, when 
 Max reached Strafford, he found Arthur ab- 
 sent. The latter had returned to the house, 
 breakfasted, ordered his horse, and ridden off, 
 without telling any one where he was going 
 or when he would be back, the servants re- 
 ported. Questioned respecting the time which 
 had elapsed since he left, they agreed in af- 
 
 firming that it had not been more than an 
 hour at which information Max frowned im- 
 patiently. If he had only been a little ear- 
 lier, be thought and yet he was conscious 
 that he was not in fit condition to see Arthur. 
 Though of a cool temperament, and accus- 
 tomed more than most men to holding him- 
 self well in hand, he was at that time suffer- 
 ing such a revulsion of feeling against his 
 cousin, that, if he had found him at once, he 
 might not have been able to restrain its ex- 
 pression within any thing like reasonable 
 bounds. Not that he was in any sense car- 
 ried away by passion, but a stern sense of 
 wrathful indignation, largely seasoned with 
 contempt, possessed him, and seemed to de- 
 mand immediate and strong utterance. 
 
 This utterance it would certainly have 
 found, with doubtful results, if Arthur had 
 been within reach. It has been already said 
 that perhaps it was a good thing he was not. 
 The process of relief called " speaking one's 
 mind," rarely does much good to any one con- 
 cerned, save to the speaker ; and, in this in- 
 stance, it might have done a great deal of 
 harm. Without any taint of Phariseeism, 
 Max's sentiments were certainly stronger than 
 most men of the world would have sanctioned, 
 since it is the fashion of the world to deal 
 leniently even with what it disapproves. 
 There are men and to spare of conventional 
 integrity who would have regarded lightly 
 enough such an offense as that of Tyndale's, 
 but Max was not one of them. Perhaps his 
 profession might account for a certain rigid- 
 ity in his manner of viewing things, but un- 
 doubtedly there seemed to him no excuse for 
 Arthur's conduct. A record of such mingled 
 weakness, perfidy, deception, and cowardice, 
 had, in his eyes, nothing to redeem or palli- 
 ate it. " If he had only been true to anybody 
 or any thing ! " he muttered, more than once, 
 as he paced the terrace, in sentinel-fashion, 
 to and fro. But that was the darkest point 
 of all ; he had been true to nobody to noth- 
 ing ! Regarding the matter, as he had of late 
 been in the habit of regarding it, from a dou- 
 ble point of view, Max felt unable to decide 
 whether Norah or Leslie had been most 
 wronged. " The Bohemian girl has been his 
 match, however!" he thought, with a certain 
 grim triumph and then he melted into abso- 
 lute tenderness over the recollection of Les- 
 lie's wasted love and abused faith. 
 
 The latter consideration brought his mind
 
 132 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 back toNorah's recommendation of the morn- 
 ing her assertion that if Arthur were once 
 removed from Leslie's life, he (Max) might, 
 by the exercise of common discretion and 
 judgment, step into the vacated place. Still 
 pacing back and forth, watching the shadows 
 shorten toward noon, and waiting for Arthur's 
 return, he let his reflections turn from the 
 more vexatious view of the subject to dwell 
 on that audacious proposal. " Was she in jest 
 or in earnest ? " he thought puzzled as many 
 a straightforward man has been puzzled before 
 him by a woman's chameleon moods. "Did 
 she take me to be a scoundrel or a lover on the 
 melodramatic model, ready to profit on anoth- 
 er man's dishonor ? or was she only amusing 
 herself by an attempt to play upon my credul- 
 ity? " This question being rather difficult to 
 answer by one not versed in the abstruse study 
 of feminine ethics, our chasseur shook his head 
 over it. But, like moths around a candle, his 
 thoughts still fluttered about the memory of 
 Norah's eyes and smile. Not at all a woman 
 in his style not in the least a woman whom 
 he admired still, a woman with a charm, he 
 could not but confess. A creature of infinite 
 variety, energy, and resource, to whom he 
 could not deny the grace of fascination, how- 
 ever much he might prefer something gentler 
 and more feminine. Then his thoughts re- 
 ceived a new impetus of indignation in the 
 recollection of how Arthur had distorted 
 every feature of her character in his descrip- 
 tion of it how he had drawn its noble out- 
 lines rudely, and dashed its fine tints with 
 vulgar coloring. What could be said of a 
 man who thus willfully added slander to de- 
 ception ? This was the text of Max's medi- 
 tations, when suddenly a graceful figure which 
 he knew well, but was not at that moment ex- 
 pecting to see, mounted the terrace-steps and 
 advanced toward him. 
 
 The encounter was a surprise on both 
 sides. Although Arthur had emerged from 
 the large gate which shut in the stable do- 
 main, and followed a path which led to the 
 foot of the terrace, he had not noticed Max, 
 while Max, on his part, had seen nothing of 
 him. Both men, therefore, started, and in- 
 voluntarily drew back a little. 
 
 " By Jove ! are you here ? " said Arthur, 
 in no very gracious tone. 
 
 " So you are back at last ! " said Max, 
 rather curt in turn. 
 
 " Is it remarkable that I should be back? " 
 
 asked the former, with a touch of defiance in 
 his manner a manner which a great many 
 people, who ought to know better, assume 
 when they desire to place themselves on the 
 defensive. 
 
 " Not at all remarkable," was the reply. 
 " I was only surprised to see you so unex- 
 pectedly." 
 
 " I came up from the stable I have been 
 6ver to Wexford," explained the other, care- 
 lessly. Then he gave a somewhat forced 
 laugh. " I should rather express surprise at 
 seeing yon ! " he said. " I supposed you were 
 over at Rosland you must have gone out 
 very early this morning, for you were not here 
 at breakfast." 
 
 " I was very little behind yourself in go- 
 ing out," answered Max, thinking, perhaps, 
 that he might save time by plunging into his 
 subject at once. " The only difference was, 
 that you came back to breakfast, and I did 
 not." 
 
 "Behind me!" Arthur echoed. Accord- 
 ing to his usual fashion, he changed color 
 vividly this time more from anger than con- 
 fusion. " I was not aware," he said, haughti- 
 ly, "that my goings -out or comings -in con- 
 cerned you in the least." 
 
 " You are quite right," returned Max, de- 
 liberately. " They do not concern me in the 
 least except in so far as they concern a mat- 
 ter in which you have more than once expli- 
 citly requested my interference." 
 
 " If I was fool enough to request your in- 
 terference at one time," said Arthur, angrily, 
 " understand that I quite as explicitly request 
 your non-interference now ! Whatever I may 
 choose to do, or leave undone, is none of 
 your affair." 
 
 " You are mistaken about that," said Max. 
 He did not lose control over himself, though 
 the manner of the other did not incline him 
 to adopt any great degree of conciliation. 
 " What you are proposing to do or to leave 
 undone may be more my affair than you im- 
 agine." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Arthur, with an angry 
 sneer, which was not a striking success as a 
 sneer. In truth, angry men should never at- 
 tempt to employ this potent weapon of of- 
 fense, for, in order to be effective, a sneer 
 should always be passionless. Perhaps Ar- 
 thur felt this, or perhaps there was something 
 in the keen dark eyes regarding him which 
 made him change his tone. " At all events, he
 
 AN ANGRY INTERVIEW. 
 
 133 
 
 did change it. Don't be a fool, Max !" he 
 said, impatiently. " You know, as well as I 
 do, that this is nonsense more than non- 
 sense, indeed, if I chose to resent it ! I was 
 absurd enough to give you some excuse for 
 your interference, and so I shall let it pass. 
 But I insist upon your dropping the subject 
 at once and finally ! " 
 
 " Suppose I decline to do so ? " 
 
 " Then I shall decline to listen to you. I 
 have had enough more than enough of 
 this ! " 
 
 " I scarcely think you will decline to lis- 
 ten to me when you hear that I come from 
 Miss Desmond." 
 
 " And, pray, why should I not decline to 
 listen to you even then ? What is Norah Des- 
 mond to me that I should give any more at- 
 tention to her messenger than to herself?" 
 
 " What was she this morning when you 
 asked her to elope with you ? " 
 
 " So ! " said Arthur, drawing in his breath 
 with a sharp, quick sound. " You have heard 
 that, have you ? " Then, with a short, harsh 
 laugh : " You were fool enough to believe it, 
 were you ? How completely she must have 
 drawn you into her net ! But I should have 
 thought even you knew Norah Desmond bet- 
 ter than that ! " 
 
 " Do you deny it ? " demanded Max. There 
 was a tense chord in his voice which the other 
 scarcely understood. Something like a slight 
 quiver passed over him. As yet he held his 
 indignant passion well in leash ; but, if the 
 denial came 
 
 It did not come. Even Arthur Tyndale 
 shrank from such downright perjury. Not so 
 much because it was a perjury, as because he 
 had a wholesome fear of Norah. It was one 
 thing to insinuate that she had spoken false- 
 ly, another thing openly to declare it. His 
 courage, which was quite equal to the first 
 achievement, failed a little at the last. He 
 turned in wrathful impatience upon his cousin. 
 
 " I shall say nothing about it, one way or 
 another ! " he cried. " Again, I repeat that 
 it is no affair of yours. Why the devil do 
 you insist upon interfering like this ? " 
 
 " Because I mean to know definitely what 
 you intend to do ! " the other answered, stern- 
 ly. " It is too late to take this tone with me. 
 You invited my interference in the first in- 
 stance ; there are others who have as good a 
 right as yourself to do so, who have invited 
 it, in the second." 
 
 " I suppose you mean Norah Desmond ? " 
 said Arthur, with the bitter inflection of con- 
 tempt which invariably accompanied his ut- 
 terance of her name. " But, by Heaven ! there 
 is no interference which I will not tolerate 
 sooner than hers ! " 
 
 " I see that you have lost all sense of 
 reason for the present," said Max, curtly. 
 " It will be useless to attempt to talk to you 
 unless you can listen in a different spirit from 
 any you have displayed as yet. I shall walk 
 to the end of the terrace," he added. " If 
 you are gone when I come back, or, if you 
 still refuse to listen to me, then / shall go, 
 and your last chance of obtaining any con- 
 sideration at Miss Desmond's hands will be 
 over." 
 
 As he uttered these words, he turned away 
 without giving the other time to speak, and 
 walked slowly around the terrace. When he 
 gained the end, he paused and stood still for 
 a few minutes. Probably he felt that he, as 
 well as Arthur, needed this little breathing- 
 space. It was the thought of Leslie which 
 had made him exercise so much self-control, 
 and now he was conscious of a necessity to 
 gird himself up, as it were, with that thought 
 afresh with the memory of her tenderness, 
 her sweetness, her grace, her devoted love for 
 the man behind him, her (he thought) entire 
 unsuspiciousness. If it seemed hard that she 
 should never know of what poor clay her idol 
 was made, that, as Norah bad said, she should 
 " go through life holding a lie for truth,' 
 still Max was enough a man of the world to 
 know that she was not singular, either among 
 men or women, in that fate. If it is true in 
 countless instances that 
 
 " We loved our lost loves for the love we gave them, 
 And not for any thing they gave our love," 
 
 it is still more true that there could be no 
 sadder revelation on this sad earth of ours 
 than the revelation of the wandering of those 
 hearts which we have fancied truest, tender- 
 est, most our own. This pang Max was de- 
 termined should be spared Leslie. " It is 
 not as if she could make another life for her- 
 self! " he muttered. " It is not as if she had 
 the facile power of forgetting of an ordinary 
 woman ; or her sister's pride and courage. It 
 would be a shock which might durken her 
 whole life. Arthur's impressions are so 
 evanescent that, when Miss Desmond goes 
 away, he will most likely return to his alle-
 
 134 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 giance, and be all that be was before. Not 
 worthy of her never, under any circum- 
 stances worthy of her but one of the neces- 
 sary compromises of which life is full ! " 
 
 Braced by this cheerful view of things, 
 Captaiu Tyndale turned at last to retrace his 
 steps. The terrace-walk curved so that he 
 could not see the spot where he had left Ar- 
 thur, and his mind was naturally full of un- 
 certainty concerning that unmanageable per- 
 son. Would he still be there ? Had he defi- 
 nitely taken leave of his senses, or was it 
 only a temporary aberration which might be 
 over, in a measure, at least, by this time ? In 
 another second he would turn the corner of 
 the house, and the question would be an- 
 swered. As he turned it, a quick, blank feel- 
 ing of disappointment settled over him in- 
 stantly. " He has gone," he thought. The 
 next moment showed him that he was mis- 
 taken. Arthur was pacing up and down the 
 path which he had himself followed an hour 
 before. 
 
 Seeing his approach, the young man paused 
 abruptly. His handsome face was paler and 
 firmer than Max had ever seen it before ; his 
 violet eyes had a steady, angry lustre in 
 them. Plainly, if cooler thoughts had come 
 to him, milder ones had not. 
 
 " Well," he said, before the other could 
 speak, " you see I have waited for you. But 
 it has not been to listen to any thing which 
 you may have to say either in your own char- 
 acter or in that of envoy. It has only been 
 that I may request an explanation of your 
 extraordinary conduct that I may learn how 
 it is that you think yourself at liberty to 
 treat me in such a manner as this ? " 
 
 " I did not come here to discuss my own 
 conduct," answered Max. " Think what you 
 like of it ! Just now I am occupied with 
 yours. Just now I must repeat the question 
 which I have already asked : What do you 
 mean to do with regard to your engagement ? " 
 
 "And I repeat what /have already asked: 
 How does any thing connected with it con- 
 cern you ? " 
 
 " Granting that it does not concern me at 
 all, you certainly cannot deny that it con- 
 cerns Miss Desmond. You may consider me 
 as her envoy, if you prefer to look on me in 
 that light." 
 
 " Her dupe and tool, more likely ! " was 
 the bitter response. " But why should she 
 make such an inquiry ? " 
 
 " Simply because it is necessary with ref- 
 erence to her own conduct," answered Max, 
 who was beginning to lose patience. " Are 
 you aware that you may do yourself infinite 
 harm by this obstinacy ? " he asked. " Un- 
 less you desire to break your engagement, 
 Miss Desmond, on her part, is willing to leave 
 the truth untold, if you will pledge yourself 
 to keep faith with her sister." 
 
 " Miss Desmond is infinitely generous ! " 
 
 " She is certainly more generous than 
 many women would be ! " said Max, with 
 growing sternness. " If you reject her offer, 
 however," he added, turning away, " my in- 
 terference is at an end. I have the honor to 
 bid you good-morning ! " 
 
 " Stop ! " said Arthur, quickly. " Don't 
 go like this ! Arc you in earnest ? does No- 
 rah offer to bind herself to to tell her sister 
 nothing ? " 
 
 " I think I may safely say that she offers 
 even that, in case you bind yourself in turn 
 to keep faith with Miss Grahume, and to suf- 
 fer her to suspect nothing." 
 
 " By Jove ! " said Arthur. For a minute 
 he looked quite astounded. It seemed No- 
 rah's special province to go through life as- 
 tonishing people. " I did not expect this," 
 he said, slowly. "I thought it was all over 
 this morning. She left me like a tigress, and 
 I was sure she had told Leslie every thing 
 before the present time. I was so confident 
 of it that I have made my arrangements to 
 leave!" he added, shrugging his shoulders. 
 " It would be too hot for me hereafter things 
 came out. My ticket is in my pocket. I 
 meant to go up to Alton to-night, and and 
 anywhere else that I felt inclined afterward. 
 It would have been rather a relief to be rid 
 of the whole infernal business ! " he said, 
 with a tone of genuine regret in his voice. 
 " But, if it is to go on, of course this arrange- 
 ment will be best. Only you must under- 
 stand one thing: I shall not trust Norah 
 Desmond's pledge or promise, either given or 
 sent. I must have pronf that she docs not 
 mean to play me false at last." 
 
 "What kind of proof?" 
 1 " My letters the letters of which I have 
 spoken before. Let her return those, and I 
 will know she is in earnest." 
 
 " I do not think it likely that she will ac- 
 cede to such a request," said Max. " But I 
 will lay it before her. One thing, however, I 
 knowthatlarn safe in demanding onher part
 
 ARTHUR'S FINAL DECISION. 
 
 135 
 
 the return of her letters, if you still have 
 them." 
 
 " Her letters ! " repeated Arthur. " Good 
 Heavens ! do you take me for a woman or a 
 fool, that I should be treasuring up such rel- 
 ics ? I have not, to my knowledge, a shred 
 of one of them, else she should certainly have 
 it. God knows I want to keep no recollection 
 of her, or the part she has played in my life ! " 
 he added, with sudden, bitter passion. 
 
 And, little as Max was inclined to trust 
 him, he saw that he was speaking truth, and 
 he knew, moreover, that it is the rarest thing 
 in the world when a man does keep such 
 tokens of the past. It is women, preemi- 
 nently, who love to make packets of old let- 
 ters, over which they weep and sigh, or smile 
 and laugh. Men's lives are too busy, and, as 
 a rule, too practical, for such tender, foolish 
 acts of remembrance. 
 
 "And if Miss Desmond refuses as, in my 
 opinion, she is very likely to refuse to re- 
 turn your letters," said Max, " what then ? " 
 
 The other drew the railroad - ticket of 
 which he had spoken from his pocket and 
 held it up. " This is what then ! " he 
 said. . . . 
 
 Max made one quick step forward then 
 checked himself and fell back. After all, 
 violence would serve no good purpose. But 
 it was almost a minute before he could com- 
 mand his voice sufficiently to speak. 
 
 "Do you mean it?" he asked, hoarsely. 
 " Do you mean that you will dare to leave 
 Miss Grahame like that !" 
 
 " I mean," answered Arthur, " that I will 
 not trust Norah Desmond ! If she refuses to 
 return my letters, I shall know that she has 
 a trap laid for me, and I am not quite fool 
 enough to walk into it with my eyes open. 
 You may tell her that if you like. I will not 
 live such a life as I have been leading lately ! 
 It is infamous ! it is too much to expect of 
 any man ! If she refuses to return my let- 
 ters, I shall leave the country, and she may 
 take the burden of explanation on her own 
 shoulders ! It is all her fault from beginning 
 to end ! It was a cursed day for me when I 
 first saw her face ! " 
 
 "This is your ultimatum, then," said 
 Max, feeling that he must get away that he 
 would not be able to restrain himself many 
 minutes longer. " You make the return of 
 your letters an absolute condition for keep- 
 ing faith with Miss Grahame ? " 
 
 " Yes, an absolute condition ! " said the 
 other, emphatically. 
 
 With this understanding they parted. 
 As Max went across the park to Rosland, he 
 could not restrain the indignation which pos- 
 sessed him ; and yet even indignation was 
 subordinated by uneasiness. "Is it doing 
 well ? is it a thing which can be excused un- 
 der any circumstances, to put Leslie's hap- 
 piness into such keeping?" ho asked him- 
 self. " Is one so false likely to be more 
 constant or more honorable in the future 
 than in the past ? " There was only one an- 
 swer to such a question as this Leslie had 
 put her own happiness into his hands. No 
 outside person had been to blame for that. 
 The sole point to be considered now was 
 whether to leave her in happy ignorance, or 
 to wake her to bitter knowledge; and this 
 point, as we are aware, Max had long before 
 decided. He shook his head many times, 
 however, as he strolled slowly along through 
 the woods and across the fields. He began 
 to realize that it was a dangerous business 
 this interfering, even with the best intentions, 
 to make or mar the happiness of others' lives. 
 
 When he reached Rosland they were at 
 luncheon, and his entrance created a slight 
 stir of interest in what was else a very lan- 
 guid company. "We did not expect you 
 back so soon!" said Mrs. Sandford, with a 
 subdued flutter, as he sat down by her. She 
 felt, no doubt, that it was on her account he 
 had returned. His heart, or his conscience, 
 or both together most likely, had smitten 
 him after his return to Strafford, and he had 
 come to seek pardon in the depths of her be- 
 guiling eyes. Those eyes looked at him with 
 the faintest shade of reproach imaginable 
 gleaming through their gratification. 
 
 " You don't deserve to be spoken to ! " 
 she confided to him. "Why did you go 
 away this morning and leave me to be so 
 frightfully dull ? It was very, very unkind 
 of you!" 
 
 " I really cannot flatter myself that I 
 should have had any power to keep the dull- 
 ness at bay," he answered, impatient of her- 
 self and her eyes, yet seeing no means of 
 escape. A glance round the table showed 
 him that everybody was dull and somewhat 
 silent, as people are apt to be in the midst 
 of "one of the warmest days of the season." 
 Carl was the only exception to this rule. 
 He looked restless instead of dull, and Max
 
 136 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 encountered more than one glance expressive 
 of any thing but amiability leveled at him- 
 self by the brown eyes out of which all laugh- 
 ter seemed to have died. " Something un- 
 common is the matter with that fellow ! " he 
 thought, as he seasoned his chicken plen- 
 tifully with Worcestershire sauce, and an- 
 swered Mrs. Sandford's remarks with dis- 
 couraging brevity. Carl, meanwhile, was 
 debating gloomily in his mind whether " that 
 fellow " was in love with Norah himself, or 
 was merely acting as the envoy of his cousin. 
 The suggestion that any thing but Norah 
 could have brought him to Rosland, would 
 have been scouted contemptuously by this 
 infatuated young man. " He who is giddy 
 thinks the world turns round," and Carl was 
 very giddy indeed at this time. Indeed, he 
 was half mad with love and hopelessness and 
 jealousy, and no more accountable for his 
 thoughts or actions than a lunatic in a strait- 
 jacket. 
 
 It is a good thing that there is no Asmo- 
 deus to lift the roofs from off our heads, or 
 to open the doors of our hearts and show 
 what thoughts and feelings possess us. If 
 there had been such an inconvenient sprite, 
 he might have revealed the fact that it was 
 a very uncomfortable party who talked com- 
 monplaces about the heat, and the coming 
 guests of the evening. Of them all, Norah 
 took things most philosophically. " When 
 the worst comes, I shall simply pack my 
 trunk and leave ! " she thought. This reso- 
 lution was possible to her, who had no keen- 
 ly personal share in the annoyances she was 
 not tortured by doubt, or stung with pain, as 
 some of the others were. Next to Norah, 
 Mr. Middleton took things most placidly. 
 He was emphatically of the opinion that the 
 whole business (Carl's infatuation, Norah's 
 visit, and Leslie's engagement understood) 
 was a confounded nuisance it may even be 
 that he characterized it still more strongly 
 but a man cannot excite himself with impu- 
 nity when the thermometer is at eighty-five 
 degrees, and Mr. Middleton dismissed his 
 share of anxiety until cooler weather. 
 
 When they were leaving table, Mrs. Sand- 
 ford said, in a whisper, to Max : " I must 
 speak to you as soon as possible, and alone. 
 1 have something of the utmost importance to 
 tell you. Can you make an opportunity, or 
 shall I?" 
 
 "I oh I'll do it!" answered he, cast 
 
 down to the very earth by this bold assault. 
 Where was any hope of rescue or escape ? If 
 he allowed himself to be entrapped into a 
 private spot to receive Mrs. Sandford's over- 
 flowing confidence, where would it end ? 
 when should he be able to see Norah ? Just 
 then he could have echoed most heartily Mr. 
 Weller's well-known sentiments with regard 
 to widows. He felt desperate and a desper- 
 ate idea entered his mind. " I'll make an op- 
 portunity as soon as possible," lie said. Af- 
 ter this, he hurried away in search of Norah. 
 
 Instead of Norah, it was Leslie whom he 
 found in the sitting-room, where he had spent 
 so many pleasant hours. It looked as pretty 
 as ever, though he felt instinctively that the 
 charm of repose, which had chiefly made it so 
 delightful, had vanished. The same green still- 
 ness brooded behind the half-closed blinds ; 
 the table was covered with work and books 
 new magazines and novels principally; the 
 fragrance of roses was heavy on the air; 
 every thing was outwardly the same that it 
 had been ten days before ; but the unseen stir 
 and strife of passion had changed the place. 
 The air, which before was full of peace and 
 serenity, now seemed full of fears, doubts, 
 suspicions Max wondered if it was only his 
 imagination which fancied this. 
 
 Leslie was standing by the centre-table, 
 in the middle of the room, when he came in. 
 He thought how pretty she looked, her slen- 
 der figure " gowned in pure white," her grace- 
 ful brown head drooping like that of a classic 
 statue ! But there was something pathetic, 
 as well as classic, in this drooping head, and 
 she seemed fingering, half absently, the flow- 
 ers which filled a large vase in the centre of 
 the table. 
 
 "See!" she said, turning with a smile 
 faint, and evidently forced when Max came 
 in. " Our poor roses ! the heat is too much 
 for them. These are all that the garden af- 
 fords, and see how imperfect they are really 
 scarce worth gathering ! " 
 
 " Very different from those you showed 
 me in May," said he, coming and standing by 
 her. " Do you remember that evening in Al- 
 ton? How lovely the roses were! and how 
 you laughed at me for not knowing more of 
 their nomenclature ! " 
 
 " I remember," she said. " You mean the 
 evening that Mrs. Sandford came in, and 
 and Arthur was there ? Yes, they were love- 
 ly every thing was lovely that evening.
 
 LESLIE AND CAPTAIN TYNDALE. 
 
 137 
 
 But we cannot have the roses of May in 
 July." 
 
 " No," said he, looking at her face, out of 
 which its delicate roses had fled. " You are 
 not well," he added, abruptly. "I I am 
 afraid you may be worrying about something." 
 
 " Why should you think that ? " asked she, 
 looking at him with a quick keenness in her 
 soft gray eyes. "I am perfectly well, and 
 what should I worry about ? " 
 
 " Women find a thousand things to worry 
 about, of which a man knows nothing," an- 
 swered he. "I thought perhaps you riiight 
 have fancied, imagined something you are 
 not looking well ! " he repeated, positively. 
 At that moment he felt a strong and very un- 
 gallant inclination to choke Mrs. Sandford. 
 " Had her tongue done this mischief ? " 
 
 " I was never a person to fancy or imagine 
 things," said Leslie, lifting her lily-like neck 
 proudly. " I have always had a great con- 
 tempt for people of that kind. They not only 
 make their own misery, but the misery of all 
 around them. They are mean, and suspicious, 
 and and jealous at last, perhaps ! I would 
 die sooner than give way to such an inclina- 
 tion ! " cried she, with a sudden pang a rush 
 of unshed tears in her voice, which told her 
 listener the whole story of her struggle. 
 
 And what could that listener say? Neither 
 reassurance nor comfort was his to give. 
 Besides, what right had he to offer it to 
 Arthur Tyndale's future wife ? His heart was 
 touched as it might have been by the bravely- 
 borne suffering of a child. But Leslie Gra- 
 hame was no child. She was a woman whom 
 he might once have loved, who might have 
 made his life as different as he would certain- 
 ly have made hers, if the caprice of Fate had 
 not decided otherwise. Now there was no 
 thought of love in his heart only pity akin 
 to tenderness, as he watched the quick flush 
 of pain coming and going in her pale cheeks. 
 
 " I told you once on that evening of 
 which we were speaking a minute ago," he 
 said, " that, even if one crushed a lily, its 
 fragrance would remain. If you were crushed 
 by the worst trouble in the world, I am sure 
 you would still be yourself, and therefore in- 
 capable of an ungenerous thought. But why 
 should you think of such things ? There is 
 no need for you to do so." 
 
 "Is there no need for me to do so ? " asked 
 she, turning suddenly and facing him with a 
 breathless look in her eyes. " On your honor, 
 
 Captain Tyndale, do you know of no need for 
 me to do so ? " 
 
 On his honor! What could Max say? 
 Some men have an idea that they can better 
 tell a lie on any thing else than on their 
 "honor." Others, as we are aware, hold that 
 abstraction very lightly indeed. Max was 
 one of the former class. He hesitated, flushed, 
 looked uncomfortable and awkward, when 
 called upon to perjure himself. Leslie turned 
 away with a little dreary laugh in which 
 there was a heart-sick sound, if he had been 
 quick enough to catch it. 
 
 " How foolish I am ! " she said. " How 
 should you know any thing about it? See 
 what nonsense you have led me into talking ! 
 Where is Norah, I wonder ? Do you know ? 
 And Mrs. Sandford seems to have vanished, 
 too." 
 
 " You must not misunderstand my si- 
 lence," he began; but she interrupted him 
 quickly : 
 
 " Have I not told you that I am the last 
 person in the world to misunderstand any 
 thing? Tell me whom you would like to take 
 in to dinner, this evening, and I will try to 
 see that you are gratified. Mrs. Sandford ? " 
 
 " Good Heavens, no ! " he answered, in 
 genuine dismay ; but, before he could say any 
 thing further to avert such a fate, Mrs. Sand- 
 ford herself appeared in the open door. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 " How often one dead joy appears 
 The platform of some better hope ! 
 
 And. let us own, the sharpest smart 
 Which human patience may eiidnre 
 
 Pays light for that which leaves the heart 
 More generous, dignified, and pure." 
 
 SHE was armed and equipped for conquest. 
 Max saw that in a moment, with a sinking of 
 the heart impossible to describe. He was 
 rather blind to the details and intricacies of 
 feminine costume as a general rule, but a 
 sense of danger sharpens the eyes wonderful- 
 ly, and he perceived at a glance that the brief 
 time which Mrs. Sandford had spent up-stairs 
 had sufficed for several important changes of 
 toilet. He was not sufficiently learned in the 
 names of different articles of dress to have 
 been able to specify that she had donned a 
 different polonaise, and added a butterfly-bow 
 to the already elaborate arrangement of her
 
 138 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 hair; but he recognized the fact of some 
 change and he knew what it meant ! 
 
 " I thought you had retired for your 
 siesta," said Leslie, turning round from the 
 roses; and then she saw the change of toilet, 
 and knew, also, what it meant. 
 
 " I think this is the coolest room in the 
 house," said the pretty widow, with a con- 
 scious air. " Mine is really intolerable just 
 now, though it is so pleasant usually. I 
 think warm weather is apt to make one rest- 
 less. Don't you think so, Captain Tyndale ? 
 It must have made you restless " with a 
 little playful arch of the eyebrows " else 
 you would not have undertaken so many 
 walks through the sun to-day." 
 
 " Might not something besides restless- 
 ness account for that ? " asked Max. He 
 was tired to death of the woman of her af- 
 fectations, and mannerisms, and great wide- 
 open blue eyes; but it is not exactly com- 
 patible with civility in general, nor with the 
 chivalry due to the fair sex iu particular, to 
 turn a deaf ear to remarks which were spe- 
 cially addressed to him, backed by the eyes 
 aforesaid, and a new French muslin polonaise 
 of the latest and most becoming fashion. 
 
 "It is not restlessness which draws the 
 needle to the magnet," said Leslie, smiling, 
 for she knew what Mrs. Sandford thought. 
 
 " Then, if Captain Tyndale is the needle, 
 somebody else must be the magnet," said 
 that lady. "Who is it, Captain Tyndale? 
 We insist upon your telling us who it 
 is." 
 
 " Do you ? " said Captain Tyndale. " But, 
 unless you have thumb-screws at hand, I am 
 afraid there is no chance of your wringing a 
 confession from me." 
 
 In this species of nonsense several min- 
 utes passed. Max began to feel more and 
 more desperate. Where was No rah ? He 
 saw Leslie glance at the clock; he knew that 
 before long she would apologize, retire for 
 her siesta, and leave him to his fate the hor- 
 rible fate of spending two or three hours of a 
 broiling afternoon shut up in a flower-scented 
 room with Mrs. Sandford. If he could only 
 see or hear any thing of Norah ! He began 
 to grow impatient, as well as desperate. She 
 knew she must have known-^that he had 
 come over to Rosland to see her, and yet she 
 had coolly taken herself out of his way. 
 " She might have spared me half an hour 
 from her beauty-sleep, or from her flirtation 
 
 with Middlcton ! " he thought. " It was not 
 for myself that I wanted to see her ! " 
 
 Feeling injured and indignant, he began 
 to meditate how he could best make his es- 
 cape, when the sudden tramp of a horse's 
 feet on a carriage-drive beyond the veranda 
 made them all start. " Is any one coming? " 
 asked Leslie, in that tone of horror-stricken 
 deprecation which the approach of a visitor 
 so often calls forth. She opened the blind 
 cautiously and looked out. "No; it is only 
 Carl ! " she said, with a sigh of relief. " What 
 a strange time of day to be going any- 
 where ! " 
 
 " He is a strange kind of person," said 
 Mrs. Sandford, languidly. There was no- 
 body she felt less interest in than Carl, for 
 the very good and sufficient reason that he 
 had not paid her the compliment of evincing 
 the least interest in her. 
 
 " An untimely fancy for exercise seems 
 to have seized more than one member of your 
 household," said Max, starting up, and walk- 
 ing to another window a window which, 
 being en the shady side of the room, stood 
 partly open, and commanded a view of the 
 grounds beyond. "Is not that Miss Des- 
 mond yonder ? " 
 
 " Upon my word, I believe it is ! " said 
 Leslie, aghast. " Is she trying to get a sun- 
 stroke or a fever, do you suppose, that she 
 has gone to walk at such an hour? " 
 
 "Perhaps she has an engngement to meet 
 Mr. Middleton somewhere," said Mrs. Sand- 
 ford, putting up her eye-glass, and scrutiniz- 
 ing the graceful figure which at that moment 
 was thrown into vivid relief by a deep-green 
 hedge. " Miss Desmond has a fancy for that 
 kind of thing, I believe. It gives a spice of 
 of what you might call Bohcmianism to 
 her intercourse with gentlemen." 
 
 " I think you are mistaken," said Leslie, 
 quickly. " There are many people who have 
 never lived in Bohemia, who are much more 
 fond of that sort of thing, as you call it, than 
 Norah is ; and," added the loyal advocate, 
 proudly, " her society is sufficiently attractive 
 in itself to dispense with any spice of fastnes?." 
 
 " My dear," said Mrs. Sandford, with effu- 
 sion, " you must really excuse me ! I am 
 sure I meant no harm, but my tongue is so 
 heedless, and you certainly are the kindest 
 and most generous person in the world to 
 talk so ! " 
 
 " I really do not see what my appreciation
 
 A KINDLY WARNING. 
 
 139 
 
 of Norali has to do with kindness and gener- 
 osity," answered Leslie, still haughtily in 
 arms. 
 
 " Nobody can appreciate her more than I 
 do ! " said Mrs. Sandford which, in a certain 
 way, was quite true. "Nobody can deny 
 that she is very beautiful and very attract 
 Good Heavens! Captain Tyndale, what are 
 you going to do?" she cried, breaking off 
 with a sudden exclamation of alarm. 
 
 " I don't think Miss Desmond ought to be 
 allowed to take a sunstroke or a fever with- 
 out a warning," answered Max, who had 
 swung himself over the low sill of the open 
 window to the ground outside. " I am going 
 to warn her, therefore. If she does not 
 choose to listen to me, my conscience will be 
 clear at least." 
 
 He stepped ruthlessly across a flower-bed 
 which made a mass of bloom in front of the 
 windovv, and walked quickly, away in the 
 direction Norah had taken so quickly that 
 a looker-on might have been pardoned for 
 thinking that he was afraid of being called 
 back. 
 
 But Mrs. Sandford was speechless. She 
 gazed after him with crimson cheeks and 
 angry eyes ; but she had sense enough to say 
 nothing. Leslie, who felt sorry for her, was 
 the first to speak. 
 
 " Captain Tyndale will be back in a few 
 minutes, no doubt. He cannot mean to go 
 far in this sun ! " 
 
 " If he comes back instantly, he will not 
 find me" answered Mrs. Sandford, in a voice 
 that quivered with anger, not with tears. 
 She rose as she spoke. Leslie could not 
 help thinking how pretty she looked. Ex"- 
 citement had, as it were, torn off her habitual 
 veil of affectation ; the real woman was in 
 arms against the slight which had been 
 passed upon herself and her elaborate toilet. 
 Her cheeks were like carnations, her eyes 
 flashed fire. It was a tempest in a teapot, 
 but even tempests in teapots may sometimes 
 work mischief. At that moment it was a 
 gratifying thought that she could, at least, 
 break her promise to Max, and in that way 
 cause him a little annoyance. 
 
 " If Miss Desmond even walks across the 
 lawn, other women must, of course, expect 
 to be forsaken immediately ! " she said, with 
 that faint, scornful laugh which is significant 
 of any thing in the world but amusement. 
 " For a young lady who keeps so many 
 
 strings to her bow, she manages them all 
 with a great deal of skill ! " 
 
 " It was not Norah's fault that Captain 
 Tyndale went after her," said Leslie. " Par- 
 don me, Mrs. Sandford, but you must really 
 understand that I cannot listen" 
 
 " It is not my affair, of course," said Mrs. 
 Sandford, interrupting her, but without any 
 of the honeyed apology of a little while be- 
 fore in her words or voice. " Miss Des- 
 mond's admirers, or lovers, or whatever they 
 may be, do not concern me. It would be 
 well, perhaps, if everybody could say the 
 same thing ; but when a woman has that 
 insatiable love of admiration, there is no tell- 
 ing where it will stop ! " 
 
 " Is it Norah whom you mean has an in- 
 satiable love of admiration ? " asked Leslie, 
 dully conscious that it was even in this wom- 
 an's power to add to her pain. " I have not 
 observed it." 
 
 "My dear," said the other, solemnly, 
 " what have you observed ? It is beautiful 
 to see your perfect tmst, your generous blind- 
 ness; but, indeed, it is not wise, it is not 
 doing justice to your " 
 
 She stopped short, for Leslie turned tow- 
 ard her with a look on her face such as no- 
 body had ever seen the fair, serene features 
 wear before. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she asked. " You 
 said something like this yesterday, but I am 
 not quick to read innuendoes indeed, I 
 should scorn to read almost as much as I 
 should scorn to make them. If you have 
 any thing to say any thing to tell me : speak 
 plainly, and I will listen to you. But if you 
 only mean to hint and suggest like this, I 
 have heard enough." 
 
 " It is impossible for me to speak plainly," 
 said Mrs. Sandford, " at least, not now. But, 
 Leslie, if you would only open your eyes 
 and look " 
 
 " I have heard enough ! " repeated Leslie, 
 haughtily. She turned decidedly and walked 
 away. "I should not be surprised if we had 
 a thunder-storm this afternoon," she said. 
 " The air is sultry." 
 
 " I see that I had better go," said Mrs. 
 Sandford, mounting a high horse of injured 
 feeling. "I have driven Captain Tyndale 
 away, and offended you ; but it may not be 
 long before you will be sorry for not having 
 listened to me, Leslie ! " 
 
 " I shall never be sorrv for not having
 
 140 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 listened to anybody who dares not, or will 
 not, speak outright ! " said Leslie, turning 
 round again. "I detest insinuation!" she 
 cried, in her proud, passionate, pained voice. 
 " It means something, or it does not. In 
 either case it is the weapon of a " She 
 stopped abruptly. "Coward," she would 
 have added, if courtesy had not come to her 
 aid in time. 
 
 " Oh, pray say what you please ! " cried 
 Mrs. Sandford. " People who attempt to 
 serve their friends must always expect to be 
 treated like this. I knew it, of course, but 
 my heart is so easily touched I could not 
 keep silence ! As I said before, you will be 
 sorry when it is too late, perhaps." 
 
 Then she turned hastily and left the room. 
 It was not only the natural feminine desire 
 for the last word, which made her do this ; 
 it was a measure of precaution lest she 
 should be forced into a (metaphorical) corner, 
 and made to confess on how little of actual 
 knowledge her insinuations were based. A 
 few broken words on the terrace at Strafford 
 which she had caught, and which might be 
 denied outright by either or both of the par- 
 ties concerned it would have been a sore 
 humiliation to be obliged to confess that this 
 was all. No, before she could speak, as she 
 meant to speak, she must have proof, some- 
 thing which could not be gainsaid. "I'll 
 stay here until I find that! " she said to her- 
 self, when she gained the solitude of her own 
 room. It was a magnanimous resolution to 
 take, and showed that she was in earnest in 
 her desire to serve Leslie ! As a rule, she 
 did not stay at any place where she was not 
 amused, and if Max deserted her standard, 
 amusement (of the kind she liked) would cer- 
 tainly be hard to find at Rosland. 
 
 Max, meanwhile, had overtaken, without 
 very much difficulty, the young lady in a pur- 
 ple muslin dress, which had not been donned 
 for his benefit, since it was the same in which 
 she had appeared at both breakfast and lunch- 
 eon, who was sauntering along under a- sun- 
 umbrella. Hearing his step, she had paused 
 and turned round brightening into wonder- 
 ful beauty, he thought, as she smiled at his 
 approach. 
 
 " Is that your usual rate of walking ? " 
 she asked, as he gained her side. " If so, 
 you must get over a great deal of ground in a 
 very short time." 
 
 " Is it your usual custom to come out at 
 
 three P. M. of a July day ? If so, you must 
 be proof against sunstrokes and fevers." 
 
 " It is very uncivil to answer a question 
 by asking one." 
 
 " I only wanted to show you that other 
 things, as well as your present exercise, may 
 be exceptional." 
 
 " My present exercise is for a purpose," 
 said she. "What was the good of attempt- 
 ing to talk to you in the house ? and I saw 
 you had something to say to me." 
 
 " You are quite right," he answered. " I 
 have something to say to you something 
 which brought me over from Strafford -but 
 I really cannot imagine how you could have 
 expected me to follow you, without a word to 
 notify me of your intention of going out." 
 
 " Are you so stupid that words are neces- 
 sary for you? "asked she. "I have known 
 some men who might really have dispensed 
 with language. A tone, a glance, was enough 
 for them. One did not need to say, point- 
 blank, ' Monsieur, put on your hat and meet 
 me in the garden.' They knew they divined 
 without a word." 
 
 "What remarkably clever fellows they 
 must have been ! " said Max. " But you 
 might have discovered, some time ago, that I 
 do not belong to such a class. I need words 
 the plainer the better. The proof of it is 
 that it was only by chance I saw you only 
 by chance that I am here now." 
 
 "You must have been blind if you had 
 not seen me ! " said she, impatiently. " What ! 
 a woman in a purple dress walk across a green 
 lawn in full view of an open window, and you 
 tell me that it was only 'by chance' you saw 
 Ber ! You ought to have borrowed Mrs. Sand- 
 ford's eye-glasses ! She has so little need for 
 them that she might readily have spared 
 them." 
 
 " That would have been turning her weap- 
 ons against herself with a vengeance." 
 
 "You mean that she was so anxious for 
 you to remain? You share the proverbial 
 modesty of your sex, I perceive ! But, since 
 you are here, suppose we proceed to business ? 
 You did not come for pleasure any more than 
 I did, I am sure." 
 
 "Speak for yourself!" said he, smiling. 
 Her dauntless coolness and . self-possession 
 amused, even while it piqued him a little. 
 He wondered if it would not be possible to 
 make her cheeks flush, her eyes droop, her 
 ready tongue falter. Nothing was more un-
 
 MORAL COWARDICE. 
 
 141 
 
 likely, but he had an odd desire to see such a 
 transformation. 
 
 " Indeed, I have not the least disposition 
 to speak for you," said she, in answer to his 
 last speech. " You have a tongue : you are 
 able to do that for yourself" (this in rather a 
 disparaging tone, as if there might be several 
 other things which he was not able to do for 
 himself). "If it amuses you to walk out 
 here in the heat, I am glad of it ; but it does 
 not amuse me in the least, and therefore I 
 wish you would say what you are going to 
 say at once." 
 
 "As a preliminary step, can't we sit down 
 somewhere ? Perpetual motion is not particu- 
 larly agreeable in cool weather, but in warm 
 weather it is intolerable." 
 
 " There is nowhere to sit, unless we sit on 
 the ground. The rustic seats are all on the 
 other side of the lawn. You might have 
 brought a camp-stool along if you had thought. 
 Then I might have stood over you with an um- 
 brella and a fan." 
 
 "The prospect is so entrancing that I 
 have half a mind to go back for the camp- 
 stool." 
 
 " Don't expect to find me when you return 
 that is all." 
 
 "Let us try the ground, then," said he, 
 taking out his handkerchief, and spreading it 
 at the foot of a large tree. " Unless you are 
 rheumatic, it is not likely to injure you." 
 
 " I am afraid that, if I sit down, you will 
 talk for an hour," said she, frankly ; but she 
 sat down, nevertheless. "Now, pray be brief! " 
 she said, as he cast himself carelessly on the 
 warm grass by her side. 
 
 " Very well," answered he. " To be as 
 brief as possible, then, I have seen Arthur, 
 and I have found him even more intractable 
 than I expected. His character seems to 
 have undergone the most sudden and wonder- 
 ful change. He is sullen and defiant, and so 
 impatient of the annoyance, which has been 
 his own work, that I absolutely found him 
 ready prepared to leave the country." 
 
 " Indeed !" said she; but she evinced no 
 surprise. "Perhaps his character has not 
 changed so much as you imagine," she added ; 
 " perhaps it has only developed. Well, he 
 has made up his mind to leave the country, 
 has he ? But how about Leslie ? She is not 
 exactly a person whom even Mr. Arthur Tyn- 
 dale can afford to jilt with impunity. A wom- 
 an who has wealth, and position, and friends, 
 
 to shield her, is not like a Bohemian waif. 
 He ought to remember that." 
 
 " He is not sufficiently cool at present to 
 remember any thing. But, when I thinking 
 only of Miss Grahame ventured to offer for- 
 getfulness, in your name, and silence with re- 
 gard to the past, he half agreed to keep faith 
 with her." 
 
 "Half agreed! Is the man mad? He 
 must fancy himself a second King Louis of 
 Bavaria able, if he feels inclined, to jilt prin- 
 cesses." 
 
 " He professes himself unable to trust 
 your promise. He insists upon some sub- 
 stantial proof that you mean to allow the past 
 to drop into oblivion. I am half afraid to tell 
 you what this proof is." 
 
 "Perhaps I can guess," said she, calmly. 
 " He wants his letters, does he not ? " 
 
 " Yes, he wants his letters." 
 
 " Really," said she, with a laugh, " his au- 
 dacity is greater than even I had imagined ! 
 So he thinks himself able to dictate terms to 
 me ! And suppose I decline to return the let- 
 ters what then ? " 
 
 " I asked him that very question, and he 
 replied by showing me his railroad-ticket. 
 That is 'what, then!' he answered." 
 
 " Do you think he means it ? " she asked, 
 with a sudden flash in her eye. " Do yon 
 think he would dare it ? " 
 
 " I am sure he means it. I am inclined 
 to think he would dare it. Easiest of all 
 things to a moral coward is the thing called 
 running away." 
 
 " But, suppose I run into the house this 
 minute and lay the matter before Leslie's 
 uncle ? Cannot he find a remedy ? Will he 
 see her treated like this ? " 
 
 " He would probably insist at once upon 
 her breaking the engagement, and he would 
 certainly forbid Arthur ever to enter his 
 house or claim his acquaintance again." 
 
 " Would he do nothing more than that ? " 
 
 " What else could he do ? Gentlemen do 
 not assault each other either with horse- 
 whips or epithets. Dueling is not in Mr. 
 Middleton's line, I imagine ; and in any case 
 the man is more than a fool who draws 
 a woman's name into an affair of that 
 kind." 
 
 " Then the matter stands thus : I must 
 either tell Leslie the truth, in order that she 
 may be able to take the initiative step in 
 breaking the engagement, or I must comply
 
 L42 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 with this coward's demand and return his 
 letters." 
 
 " That is the light in which it stands, cer- 
 tainly." 
 
 " The coward ! " said she, again, between 
 her clinched teeth. " The false-hearted cow- 
 ard ! But do you not see that it would be 
 madness to do this ? " she cried, turning sud- 
 denly, almost fiercely, upon him. " Do you 
 not see that, if I give up these letters, I place 
 myself in Arthur Tyndale's power ? My good 
 name lies at his mercy ! He could say any 
 thing of me, and I should hare no power to 
 refute it! You do not think of me you 
 think altogether of Leslie, Captain Tyndale; 
 but, when it comes to such a point as this, I 
 must think of myself." 
 
 " You are mistaken," said Max. He spoke 
 coolly enough, but, as he raised himself with 
 sudden energy from the grass, there was a 
 look of excitement not common with him on 
 his face. " I do think of you ; I have thought 
 of you ever since he made the proposal, but 
 I wanted to see what you would say. You 
 arc quite right. There are o circumstances 
 which would justify you in resigning those 
 letters to a man whom no pledge of honor 
 seems capable of binding." 
 
 " And yet what remains for me ? " 
 
 " To tell the truth to Miss Grahame." 
 
 "You say that?" A look of surprise 
 came into her face. Then she laughed a 
 faint, low laugh, which he did not understand. 
 " You are very generous, Captain Tyndale. I 
 fancied you would have been willing to sacri- 
 fice me, and every thing connected with me, 
 to spare Leslie one pang." 
 
 " Why should you have fancied such a 
 thing?" said he, almost indignantly. "I 
 know that women are prone to imagination, 
 but still you do not realize as I do, Miss Des- 
 mond, what you would be giving up if you 
 relinquished those letters." 
 
 " I think I realize perfectly," answered 
 she. " I have seen a great deal of the world, 
 and, as a rule, it does not show its best side 
 to vagabonds. But there are one or two 
 points to be considered," said she, plucking 
 absently at the grass by her side. " In the 
 first place, Arthur Tyndale's life and mine 
 will, after this, lie far apart ; it will be out 
 of his power, therefore, to harm me very 
 much. In the second place, he will have 
 no reason to speak ill of me on the con- 
 trary, it will be to his interest to keep all 
 
 knowledge of our past acquaintance from 
 Leslie." 
 
 " It is not safe to trust to such contin- 
 gencies as those," said Max, earnestly. " You 
 cannot tell how far your life may yet meet, 
 cross, be affected, by that of Arthur. It is 
 as impossible to thrust people as to thrust 
 memories absolutely away ; they come back 
 upon us when we are least expecting them. 
 As for his having no reason to speak ill of 
 you, young as you are, you 'ought to be 
 enough a woman of the world to know better 
 than that. You have stung his vanity, and 
 wounded his pride. Is not that reason enough 
 to make you expect any degree of enmity, 
 any falsity of slander ? " 
 
 "I must expect those things of neces- 
 sity," said she. " I have tried them. They 
 are not pleasant, but I can bear them." 
 
 " You can bear them ! " repeated Max. He 
 stared at her aghast. " You don't know 
 what you are talking about," he said, impa- 
 tiently. " These things which you talk of 
 ' bearing ' are poisoned arrows which have 
 slain many a heart as high and proud as 
 yours. You were right a few minutes ago 
 when you said that you would put your good 
 name absolutely into Arthur Tyndale's power 
 by returning him these letters. Forgive me 
 if I speak plainly, but it is necessary that 
 you should understand why such a thing 
 must not be done.'" 
 
 " Not even for Leslie's sake ? " asked she, 
 looking at him intently. 
 
 " Xo ! " answered he, sharply. " The sac- 
 rifice is too great far greater than the occa- 
 sion. Not to save your sister's heart from 
 breaking, have you a right to do it ! " 
 
 She looked at him for a little while longer 
 with eyes that softened momently. Some in- 
 ner feeling seemed at work. Her lips quiv- 
 ered slightly, a wave of color swept into her 
 face, and then ebbed away. It was not quite 
 the transformation for which Max had wished 
 a short time before, but it was something 
 like it. 
 
 " You are very kind," she said, at last, in 
 a voice that struck the ear as being full of 
 more than one emotion. " It is very good of 
 you you who are Arthur Tynd.ile's cousin 
 and Leslie's friend to think of me. I had 
 not expected it. You see I am not used to 
 consideration admiration, and attention, 
 perhaps, but not consideration. I thought 
 you would think of Leslie and Leslie's inter-
 
 THE ONLY ALTERNATIVE. 
 
 143 
 
 est alone. Well, since you do not think of 
 it, I must," she added. " Captain Tyndale, 
 do you know what Leslie is to me ? " 
 
 " Your sister, is she not ? " said he, doubt- 
 fully, wondering what would come next. Sure- 
 ly this was an incomprehensible woman a 
 woman who made such wild havoc of all his 
 previous opinions concerning her that he be- 
 gan to resign himself to having no opinion at 
 all, but simply accepting whatever view of her 
 varying character she chose to show him. 
 
 " My sister," repeated she, doubtfully. 
 " Yes, she is that, and I suppose it mean's 
 something but not very much! She is 
 more than that, Captain Tyndale. She is the 
 first person who has ever ever in all our 
 lives made a kind advance to us, or held 
 out a helping hand. My mother's relations 
 have never taken the slightest notice of us. 
 Papa's relations long ago discarded him. He 
 comes of good people," said she, drawing her- 
 self up with all the pride of her Milesian 
 blood ; " but, of course, that did not help us, 
 since the good people had long since before 
 I was born, I suppose given him up. But 
 Leslie came forward without any need to do 
 so, in the face of all the prejudices of her 
 caste and held out her hand to us. It makes 
 a tie stronger than that of blood ! " cried she, 
 with eyes that melted and flashed both at 
 once. " She meant to do MS good, and shall 
 my coming work her harm ? Not if I can 
 help it, you may be sure ! " 
 
 "But can you help it?" asked he, look- 
 ing at her, and thinking that he had never 
 seen a more beautiful and majestic creature 
 than she seemed just then. 
 
 " I can help it by giving Arthur Tyndale 
 what he demands his letters." 
 
 " You will not ! " cried he, quickly al- 
 most passionately. " You are not in earnest ; 
 you will not do such a thing!" 
 
 " Yes, I am in earnest," answered she. 
 " After all, he may have some faint instinct 
 of honor, and the fact that I am in his power 
 may seal his lips." 
 
 " / might have thought that yesterday, 
 but not to-day. To-day I know him to be 
 false and treacherous to the very core to be 
 literally without a single instinct of the man 
 of honor!" 
 
 " Still," said she, "I must risk it, since 
 you tell me that this is the only alternative ; 
 that lie will certainly leave as he threatens if 
 I refuse" 
 
 " Upon my word, Miss Desmond," inter- 
 rupted he, " you tempt me to go to your sis- 
 ter and tell her the whole truth on my own 
 responsibility." 
 
 " You would not dare to do such a thing ! " 
 cried she. " It is not your secret ! You have 
 no right ! it would be infamous ! " 
 
 " I only said you tempted me ; but it would 
 be better than this which you propose." 
 
 " I must make one condition, however," 
 said she, imperiously, sweeping his objections 
 away like cobwebs, as he could not help feel- 
 ing; " my letters, if Arthur Tyndale still re- 
 tains them, they must be returned." 
 
 " I made that condition in your name, and 
 he assures me I am inclined to think, truly 
 that he has not a line of one of them." 
 Then, as if to apologize, " Men seldom keep 
 such things, you know." 
 
 "It does not matter very much whether 
 he is speaking truly or falsely," said she, care- 
 lessly. " I am glad to remember that I was 
 not foolish enough to put any thing on record 
 against myself which the whole world might 
 not read. A propos of letters," said she, 
 turning suddenly again, " did you destroy, or 
 have you still, the one I wrote to Kate, and 
 which the wind carried to you ? " 
 
 " Destroy it ! " repeated he, starting. " I 
 I do not think so. Why do you ask ? " 
 
 " Simply because I feel a natural curiosity 
 to know what has become of it, and a natural 
 reluctance to its falling into other hands. I 
 wrote more freely in that letter than I often 
 do. Ink and paper are unsafe things to trust, 
 if only for the reason that they often outlast 
 more solid things. Since you have not de- 
 stroyed the letter, I shall be glad if you will 
 return it." 
 
 " I am very sorry," said he, looking at her 
 with honest, troubled eyes, " but I am serious- 
 ly in doubt about that letter. I do not know 
 what has become of it. I may have destroyed 
 or I may have mislaid it ; but, at least, I can- 
 not find it. I know there is no excuse for 
 me, but I have looked for it several times, and 
 I will look again." 
 
 " How is it possible that you could have 
 destroyed it without knowing ? " asked No- 
 rah. If she had glanced at him suspiciously, 
 it might have been forgiven her. That expe- 
 rience of the rougher side of life, on which 
 she dwelt so much, did not incline her to a 
 very childlike faith in men or their asser- 
 tions.
 
 144 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 "I am often very absent-minded," said 
 Max, who saw the suspicion, but bad sense 
 enough not to resent it. " I have often de- 
 stroyed a letter, and then wanted it. I may 
 have destroyed this one, or I may have mis- 
 laid it, though I can't imagine where ! " said 
 he, with a puzzled look. 
 
 This look somewhat convinced her of his 
 sincerity. She questioned him closely as to 
 when he had seen the letter last, what he had 
 done with it, and where he had put it, until 
 she finally elicited the fact that it had " prob- 
 ably " been left on his table, with other pa- 
 pers, on the evening of the day which they 
 had spent at Strafford. " Is that your last 
 recollection of it ? " asked she, looking at 
 him keenly. 
 
 " That is my last recollection of it. I re- 
 member I walked out for a few minutes that 
 night" one's memory plays one tricks some- 
 times : Max honestly thought it had only been 
 a few minutes " and when I came back I 
 found the wind had scattered my papers over 
 the floor." 
 
 " But when you gathered them up, did 
 you not notice whether this letter was among 
 them?" 
 
 " I did not gather them up at once, be- 
 cause " He stopped short. A flash of Hght 
 seemed to come to him. " By Jove ! " he 
 said, under his mustache ; " could he have 
 done such a thing ? " 
 
 " Mr. Tyndale, do you mean? " asked No- 
 rah, whose ears were quick. " I have not 
 doubted from the first but that he has the let- 
 ter. If you found him in your room on the 
 night you missed it, that is very good proof. 
 Well, I make the return of it a condition also 
 let him understand that, Captain Tyndale." 
 
 " He may deny that he has it he may 
 affirm that he has destroyed it." 
 
 " The first you know to be false ; the sec- 
 ond is not likely." 
 
 " I cannot imagine how I shall constrain 
 myself to meet him, to speak to him ! " said 
 the young man, bitterly. " He has proved 
 himself so false he is so utterly unworthy of 
 the name he bears ! " 
 
 " If we never met or spoke to people who 
 are false, our list of acquaintances would be a 
 very small one ! " said Norah, cynically. " But 
 it has certainly struck me more than once that 
 you have taken a great deal of annoyance and 
 trouble upon yourself from pure friendship 
 Platonic and otherwise." 
 
 " I am not sure that it has been from 
 pure friendship of any kind," said he. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 " Can a man sit mute by a fast-barred door 
 
 While the night-showers cut through the shiv- 
 ering skin, 
 
 Yet love in her hardness, love on, love more, 
 That cold-eyed beauty who smiles within ? 
 Snch a man he is dead long since I knew : 
 There was one that never could know him you I " 
 
 IF the events of this particular day have 
 seemed long in narrating and they are not 
 yet over they seemed even longer in tran- 
 spiring to me than one member of the house- 
 hold at Rosland. As Norah, having com- 
 pleted her dinner - toilet, stood before her 
 open window for a moment, looking out on 
 the dying beauty of the summer evening, she 
 asked herself if it had really been only one 
 day since she had looked out of the window 
 on the sparkling freshness of early morning. 
 " It has seemed like two or three days melt- 
 ed into one ! " she said, wearily. " And it is 
 not yet over indeed, its most trying period 
 is yet to come I " 
 
 The sound of carriage-wheels warned her, 
 however, that she could not give any more 
 time to meditation ; so, taking her fan and 
 gloves, and with a last glance in the mirror, 
 she went down-stairs. The drawing-room was 
 already full, but the hum of conversation 
 ceased a little as she entered. Many of the 
 guests had not seen her before, others were 
 anxious to see her again a slight, involun- 
 tary thrill of admiration passed round the 
 room. Nobody could deny Norah Desmond's 
 beauty. It was for the comprehension and 
 appreciation alike of prince ami peasant. She 
 was so well accustomed to the sensation 
 which her appearance always made, that it 
 brought no added color to her face, no tinge 
 of self -consciousness to her manner. She 
 spoke to one or two people whom she knew, 
 and then crossed the room to Leslie, before 
 she perceived that Arthur Tyndale was stand- 
 ing by her side. Recognizing him with a 
 start, she bowed, and then turned to her sis- 
 ter. 
 
 " I fear I am late," she said, more for the 
 sake of saying something than because she 
 really did fear it. 
 
 " Not at all," answered Leslie. " There
 
 A DINNER-PARTY. 
 
 145 
 
 are several people yet to come people who 
 do not understand the necessity of punctu- 
 ality at a dinner-party. And there is Mrs. 
 Sandford just entering ! " she said, with some- 
 thing like a laugh in her voice. " Fancy 
 how some of our old-fashioned friends are 
 shocked ! " 
 
 Norah turned. Her first thought was 
 that the old-fashioned friends in question 
 might be excused ; for certainly a lady so de- 
 colletce as Mrs. Sandford was, is rarely seen 
 in a country drawing-room. Magnificent of 
 train and bouffante of overskirt was her laven- 
 der silk, with its thread-lace flounces of fabu- 
 lous value ; but the fashionable lowness of 
 her corsage, and the fashionable shortness of 
 her sleeves, were a revelation to the country- 
 bred eyes looking on. " Did you ever see 
 the like of that ? " more than one lady said 
 in a whisper to her neighbor, while one un- 
 sophisticated young person turned into a cor- 
 ner to blush. The shoulders and arms thus 
 lavishly displayed had some flesh on them, 
 however which is more than can always 
 be said and the diamonds which encircled 
 them soon brought public virtue down to 
 a temperate point of tolerance. 
 
 Somewhat to Norah's surprise, she found 
 herself assigned to Max Tyndale when dinner 
 was announced. 
 
 " This is kinder of Mrs. Middleton than I 
 hoped ! " she said, frankly, as they moved 
 out of the drawing-room. " I fully expected 
 to be given over to the tender mercies of a 
 country Philistine probably that young Cov- 
 ington who took my breath away a few min- 
 utes ago by coolly addressing me as 'Miss 
 Norah ! ' " 
 
 " Did you not know that that is the cus- 
 tomary form of address in this country ? " 
 asked Max. " It is scarcely likely that he 
 intended to be impertinent." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that it is the cus- 
 tom of the country among well-bred peo- 
 ple ? " asked she. " Do you mean to tell me 
 that it is considered good style ? Why, it is 
 a badge of vulgarians abroad." 
 
 " It is not the custom of the country 
 among the very best-bred people," answered 
 he ; " but a great many people who are well 
 bred in every thing else do it, and mean no 
 harm like our guileless young friend, who 
 never called any woman by her surname for 
 more than ten minutes, I suppose." 
 
 " He will not be likely to call me by any 
 
 10 
 
 thing else again," said she, laughing. "I 
 gave him a stare which petrified him." 
 
 "How would you like to be called 'Miss 
 Nonie ? ' " asked he, smiling. (They had sat 
 down to table by this time.) " I heard a 
 young lady, who was baptized Leonora, ad- 
 dressed by that euphonious diminutive the 
 other day." 
 
 " I detest all but a very few abbrevia- 
 tions," said she, " and with silly ones I have 
 no patience. If I were a queen, I would rig- 
 orously abolish them. Anybody found guilty, 
 for instance, of transforming the queenly 
 name of Margaret into Maggie, should cer- 
 tainly be imprisoned ; and I should make it a 
 capital offense to call a Mary by any of the 
 numerous nicknames of that most holy and 
 beautiful of names." 
 
 " I am afraid your subjects would rebel. 
 Nothing is BO dear to the feminine heart as 
 abbreviations. There is Mrs. Sandford, for 
 instance, who looks like the Queen of Sheba, 
 or Solomon in all his glory, yet who writes 
 little gushing school-girl notes, and signs them 
 ' Nellie.' " 
 
 " Mrs. Sandford will smack of bread-and- 
 butter as long as she lives," said Norah. 
 " By-the-by, she is looking handsome, is she 
 not? But her dress would suit a ball better 
 than a dinner with a game of crcquet in 
 prospect." 
 
 "Do you remember a little poem of Owen 
 Meredith's, called ' Madame la Marquise ? ' " 
 asked Max. " Of course you do everybody 
 does ! It might answer for a portrait, don't 
 you think ? especially these verses : 
 
 ' Could we find out her heart through that velvet 
 
 and lace ! 
 Can it beat without ruffling her sumptuous 
 
 dress? 
 She will show us her shoulder, her bosom, her 
 
 face ; 
 But what the heart's like, we must guess. 
 
 'With live women and men to be found in the 
 
 world 
 (Liv with sorrow and sin live with pain and 
 
 with passion) 
 \Vho could live with a doll, though its locks should 
 
 be curled. 
 And its petticoats trimmed in the fashion ? ' " 
 
 " I am sure Mrs. Sandford would be much 
 complimented by the comparison," said No- 
 rah, mischievously. " She told me the other 
 clay that she 'adored' Owen Meredith. I 
 took it for granted that she meant his po- 
 etry."
 
 146 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Observing the precept of charity after 
 this admirable fashion, their conversation 
 flowed like a stream of easy, rippling water. 
 Norah's tongue always had the true Milesian 
 fluency nobody ever had to "make talk" 
 with her and Max was not half a Frenchman 
 for nothing. One topic naturally led to anoth- 
 er, and it was not until a momentary lull 
 came that he said : 
 
 " I did not see Arthur, after all. He had 
 left Strafford when I got back, and he did not 
 return before coming here. So I have not 
 delivered your message." 
 
 " Indeed ! I am sorry ! " she answered. 
 That was all she trusted herself to say ; there 
 were too many inquisitive ears around. 
 
 According to the English fashion which 
 was a novelty in M County the gen- 
 tlemen were left over their wine, while the 
 ladies scattered about the drawing-room in 
 knots and groups, talking bits of country 
 gossip, mingled with remarks on the state 
 of the gardens, the state of the roads, 
 and the state of the weather. Everybody 
 knew everybody else for it was a " nice " 
 neighborhood and general good-fellowship 
 prevailed. Norah was the only person who 
 was outside the charmed circle of sympathy 
 and knowledge. The ladies were shy of her 
 because they were afraid of her ; she was 
 stiff with them because she knew very little 
 of women, and because she had a habit of 
 instinctively arming herself against possible 
 or probable patronage. She was tired, too, 
 and the chatter of many voices wearied her ; 
 so, stepping through an open window to the 
 veranda beyond, she stood under one of the 
 leafy arches, resting her mind with the soft, 
 fragrant quiet of the outer world, and watch- 
 ing the moon rising in majesty above the tree- 
 tops into the clear eastern heaven. 
 
 How beautiful it was ! The earth seemed 
 lying in a trance under the silvery lustre 
 which made a brightness like that of day 
 without its heat. The sky was a deep hya- 
 cinth-blue, the shadows where they rested 
 were dark without being dense, but where 
 the moonlight fell in bread, white glory, every 
 leaf and spray was clearly visible, every peb- 
 ble shone like a jewel. It is something for 
 which we should thank God afresh every time 
 it comes this marvelous, matchless beauty 
 of moonlight, this tender, dazzling radiance, 
 which, putting aside all the colors that deck 
 the day, paints the earth in black and white, 
 
 and makes it of a something so fair that we 
 are fain to liken it to our earthly imaginings 
 of the " city of the saints of God." 
 
 Norah was so absorbed in the beauty of 
 the scene, and so rapt in thought, that she 
 did not notice the entrance of the gentlemen 
 into the room behind her ; and she was still 
 standing a statue-like figure in the lustrous 
 light, with the graceful tracery of leaves and 
 starry flowers all around her when some one 
 came to her side and said, " I thought it 
 could only be you ! " 
 
 She turned abruptly fancying, for a mo- 
 ment, that the voice was that of Arthur Tyn- 
 dale but it was Carl Middleton who was 
 looking at her, with something strangely pas- 
 sionate and wistful on his face. She was so 
 much relieved that she smiled. 
 
 " Is it you? " she said. " I thought it was 
 some one much more disagreeable ! " 
 
 " I am glad to know that there is any one 
 whom you consider more disagreeable," said 
 he. " I fancied that, in your eyes, I had cer- 
 tainly attained the superlative degree in that 
 quality at least." 
 
 " You know that is nonsense," answered 
 she, impatiently. " I do not consider you 
 disagreeable at all, unless unless you make 
 yourself so ! " 
 
 " That is (o say, if I chose to talk com- 
 monplaces, like any other man to whom you 
 were introduced an hour ago, you would tol- 
 erate me as you tolerate him. Well, it docs 
 not matter. Your toleration, or want of tol- 
 eration, will soon be over for me. I came to 
 say good-by." 
 
 " Good-by ! " she echoed. His manner star- 
 tled her even more than his words ; there was 
 something in it totally new, something which 
 she did not understand. "But why 'good- 
 by ? ' Are you going away now ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am going away now. I need 
 change of air I do not think this climate 
 agrees with me. Besides " (fiercely), " I am 
 done with making a fool of myself ! I see at 
 last how useless and hopeless it is ! / came 
 too late f What can a man do against the 
 spell of old association? I am going at 
 once ! " 
 
 11 It is a very good resolution ! " said No- 
 rah, coldly. Nobody can blame her if she was 
 tired of this violent and impracticable suitor 
 of hers. A man who cannot understand a 
 rejection, and who refuses to take it quietly, 
 makes himself worse than a bore in the eyes
 
 CARL MIDDLETON'S RESOLUTION. 
 
 147 
 
 of a woman. However sorry she may have 
 been for him at first, this sorrow inevitably 
 changes into impatience, disgust, and con- 
 tempt, if she is annoyed by undesired per- 
 sistence. Now, Norah had not only been 
 wearied by Carl, but she had been provoked 
 and insulted by him he had indeed repeated 
 his worst offense in his last words there- 
 fore her voice sounded like ice when she 
 said: 
 
 " It is a very good resolution." 
 
 " I was sure you would think so ! " he 
 said, defiantly. " I was sure I could not 
 bring you better news. But you do not ask 
 me where I am going I thought you might 
 take enough interest in me for that ! " 
 
 She looked at him doubtfully. What did 
 he mean ? More and more it struck her how 
 unlike himself he was. More and more she 
 perceived what a pale, passionate face it was 
 on which the moonlight shone. 
 
 " If you would let me, I should be glad 
 to know I should be glad to take interest," 
 she said, hesitatingly. After all, he was not 
 accountable, perhaps, for his defiant looks, 
 his significant tones, his reckless words. 
 Men are such fools that was the result of 
 Norah's experience as well as Mrs. Sandford's 
 and he was crazy just now, poor boy ! 
 
 " I am going down to L County to see 
 
 my relations there. Even in the short time 
 that I have been here they have given me no 
 peace," he said, after a minute. " That is in 
 the opposite direction from Alton, you know 
 or perhaps you don't know. I take the 
 down-train which passes which has lately 
 passed Wexford at 9.40, and meets the 
 Alton train at the station below." 
 
 " Yes," said Norah. He puzzled her more 
 and more. This information about trains 
 seemed given with a purpose, and yet what 
 could it be ? " If your train passes Wexford 
 at 9.40, and you mean to leave to-night, you 
 will have to go very soon, then, will you 
 not ? " she asked, more for want of any thing 
 else to say than because she had any dispo- 
 sition to hasten his departure. 
 
 " Yes, I shall have to go very soon at 
 once, indeed," he said, looking at her quick- 
 ly, with a suspicious, sidelong glance. 
 
 But, despite this fact, he stood beside her 
 for a minute longer. Something seemed to 
 rise to his lips; he hesitated an instant, then 
 did not utter it. Steps were heard approach- 
 ing voices sounded at the open window. He 
 
 turned away then suddenly turned back and 
 grasped her wrist. 
 
 " I don't think you will ever know what 
 you have thrown away in throwing away me," 
 he said this is something, by-the-by, which 
 a great many men "think, though most of 
 them refrain from uttering it ! " I would 
 have done any thing to serve you, any thing 
 on God's earth ! I would have hesitated at 
 nothing, Norah! But you have showed me 
 that you prefer falsehood, and treachery, and 
 deceit, to an honest man's honest love, and I 
 what can I do ? But if even yet even yet, 
 Norah " 
 
 " Let go my arm ! " said Norah, imperi- 
 ously, and in the moonlight he saw the 
 haughty lightning that flashed from her eyes. 
 " I have heard enough. I hope that change 
 of air will restore your senses to you; but at 
 present you have certainly lost them alto- 
 gether ! " 
 
 " When it is too late, remember that it is 
 your own fault that I gave you one last op- 
 portunity ! " he said, dropping her arm. 
 
 And even in the midst of her anger, his 
 tone startled her again. It was so signifi- 
 cant it so plainly meant something more 
 than met the ear. Had he really gone crazy ? 
 What was he talking about ? This was what 
 Norah asked herself, puzzled, bewildered, in- 
 dignant, all at once. 
 
 While she still stood hesitating uncertain 
 whether or not to demand an explanation 
 Mr. Middleton stepped through the open win- 
 dow behind them, and her opportunity was 
 lost. 
 
 " What ! are you here yet, Carl ? " he 
 said, in a tone of surprise. " I told your 
 aunt a minute ago that I thought you were 
 gone. She doesn't like it at all, I can tell 
 you leaving a party in the lurch this way 
 so perhaps, as you are still here, you had bet- 
 ter put off your departure till to - morrow 
 morning." 
 
 " No," said Carl, in a quick, obstinate 
 voice, " I shall go to-night. I am sorry if 
 Aunt Mildred does not like it but I must 
 go." 
 
 " You know your own affairs best, of 
 course," said his uncle, coldly ; " but I think 
 you arc likely to miss the train if you stay 
 here much longer." 
 
 "It is not quite nine o'clock," said Carl, 
 glancing at his watch. " I can certainly drive 
 to Wexford in forty minutes."
 
 148 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 The game of croquet was by this time be- 
 ing organized on the lawn. The hoops were 
 erected, and the opposing parties had mar- 
 shalled themselves. Some one came up to No- 
 rah. Would she play ? At first she declined, 
 but, on second thought, consented. The te- 
 dious hours had to be got through in some 
 fashion perhaps croquet was as good a 
 means as any other. So she walked away, 
 and Carl turned into the house. He had his 
 dinner-dress to change, he muttered, for a 
 traveling-suit. 
 
 At nine punctually he took his departure. 
 Norah, who was standing, mallet in hand, on 
 the farther side of the croquet-ground, heard 
 a rattle of wheels, and, looking across the 
 lawn, saw the light dog-cart spinning around 
 the drive and out of the gate. 
 
 " Who is that ? " asked her companion, 
 surprised. " Surely, nobody is leaving at 
 this hour of the evening ! " 
 
 "I think it is Mr. Middleton Mr. Carl 
 Middleton," she answered, stooping to give 
 her ball a very unscientific blow. " He said 
 that he had to go away to-night to see some 
 friends, I think." 
 
 " Carl's a queer fellow, isn't he ? " said 
 the other the same free-and-easy young gen- 
 tleman who had called her " Miss Norah." 
 " We've seen nothing of him in this part of 
 the country since he was grown ; but every- 
 body always expected that he would marry 
 Miss Leslie, and there was great astonish- 
 ment on all hands when we heard that she 
 was engaged to Arthur Tyndale. Not but 
 that it's a capital match, you know, but still 
 it was always understood that she was to 
 marry Carl, and so we were astonished." 
 
 " Was it understood that she was to mar- 
 ry Carl ? " asked Norah,. starting. " Such 
 things seldom come to pass as parents and 
 guardians wish them to do," she said. 
 
 Meanwhile Leslie was moving among her 
 guests with a very sore and troubled heart. 
 She had been almost, if not quite, ready to 
 forget all her doubts and suspicions when 
 Tyndale had appeared before dinner the 
 first sight of his fair, handsome face, the first 
 tone of his voice, had made her heart leap up 
 with a loving, grateful sense that all must be 
 well, that in him, at least, could be no decep- 
 tion n<>r wrong ; but afterward she could not 
 banish the sense that some change had come 
 over him. He was not himself. There was 
 something wrong with him. She felt that in- 
 
 stinctively. In her society he was constrained 
 she felt that with a pang which only those 
 who have ever seen this subtile but most im- 
 passable barrier coming between themselves 
 and those they love can imagine. After din- 
 ner she was dully, sorely conscious that he 
 was avoiding her. He sat down by Mrs. 
 Sandford, and began what looked very much 
 like one of the old-time flirtations. But Les- 
 lie had never been jealous of the old-time 
 flirtations. Now she was not exactly jealous, 
 but her heart burned within her ; the scene 
 of the night before came back again. " Any- 
 body but me ! " she thought, " anybody but 
 me ! " Once, when he spoke to her, she fan- 
 cied for she was not blind, as many women 
 are that there was the glow of champagne 
 on his cheeks, the light of champagne in 
 his eyes. Then her heart grew sorer still. 
 He had never forgotten himself like this be- 
 fore. What did it mean ? 
 
 Mrs. Sundford was not playing croquet. 
 That might readily have been predicted from 
 her toilet. In the drawing-room, and, after a 
 while, on the moon-lighted veranda, she sat 
 with a court round her, like the Madame la 
 Marquise to whom Max had likened her. She 
 had indulged in more than one innuendo to 
 Arthur Tyndale, but her courage had not been 
 equal to touching openly the subject of his 
 "flirtation" (so she would mildly have phrased 
 it), with Norah Desmond. Opportunity had 
 not been lacking ; but she had found It pleas- 
 anter to flirt with him herself, to bend her 
 elaborately coiffed head toward him, to shrug 
 her white shoulders, to open wide her blue 
 eyes, to ripple over with exclamations and 
 adjectives. As for Arthur, it was the easiest 
 thing at hand to do it certainly required no 
 effort either of mind or body and, remem- 
 bering what Norah had told him, he had an 
 idea that he might win this pretty widow, his 
 " old friend," over to his side again. 
 
 When others claimed his attention, how- 
 ever, he rose and strolled away. A spirit of 
 restlessness possessed him. He looked into 
 the drawing-room. Whist and conversation 
 reigned there. He shrank equally from both, 
 so he wended his way across the lawn to the 
 croquet-party. Even that was better: he 
 might see Leslie, plead a headache, and take 
 leave at once. 
 
 On reaching the players, he found that 
 Leslie was not to be seen. She had been 
 looking on for a while ; but she had walked
 
 THE LOST POCKET-BOOK. 
 
 149 
 
 away with a stranger who admired the 
 grounds, and wanted to see more of them. 
 This was what somebody told Arthur. He felt 
 vexed and impatient just then every thing 
 vexed this unreasonable young man. " Why 
 was she out of the way ? " he thought. 
 Standing there in the moonlight, a sudden 
 feeling of isolation came over him ; the clink 
 of the balls, the merry peals of laughter, the 
 fragments of speech, jarred upon and irritated 
 him. He felt none of the spell of the dreamy, 
 lustrous night a sublimated day, it seemed 
 none of the poetry, which youth and happi- 
 ness always create, in the scene. " Your 
 play, Miss Desmond!" somebody called out. 
 Then he started and frowned. Norah's name 
 was worst of all ! 
 
 At that moment he made up his mind to 
 take French leave of the party, and return to 
 Straffbrd. With regard to Leslie, he felt 
 reckless. He had already neglected her so 
 much, that a little more neglect scarcely mat- 
 tered. He had half turned away, when a 
 young man, who was standing not far off, with 
 a girl, called out: 
 
 " Tyndale, can you lend me a pencil ? " 
 
 " I suppose so," answered Tyndale, invol- 
 untarily. He did not feel in a particularly 
 obliging mood ; but, when we are asked to 
 lend a thing which we know to be reposing In 
 our pocket, the impulse is with most of us 
 that we do it. He took out a pocket-book, 
 and, drawing a pencil from it, handed it to 
 the other. " What do you want to do with 
 it ? " he asked, carelessly. 
 
 " I want to write off a capital acrostic for 
 Miss Minnie," the young man answered. " If 
 you'll wait a minute " 
 
 " Oh, the pencil is of no importance," said 
 Tyndale, walking away. He felt a momentary 
 envy for people who could be amused by 
 "capital acrostics," and yet a certain con- 
 tempt, also. " Vapid fools ! " he called them, 
 in his own mind, as he closed the pocket- 
 book, and returned it to his pocket. 
 
 Returned it! That is to say, he thought 
 that he returned it ; but the champagne must 
 have been in his fingers, as well as in his 
 head, for certainly the book slipped, in some 
 unaccountable way, past the pocket, or out 
 of the pocket, and thence down to the ground, 
 where he, unconsciously, walked away and 
 left it. 
 
 There it still lay, a dark object on the 
 moonlit sward, when Mrs. Sandford came 
 
 across the lawn to look at the game, attended 
 by a brace of cavaliers, with her silken train 
 thrown over her white arm. One of the cava- 
 liers in question struck his foot against this 
 object, and, stooping down, picked it up. 
 
 " By George ! " he said. " Some fellow , 
 has lost a pocket-book, and left all his secrets 
 of love and war at the mercy of the public. 
 Who was it, I wonder? Armistead, have you 
 lost any thing of the kind ? " 
 
 "Not I," answered the other cavalier. 
 " But it will not be difficult to find the owner. 
 I say, Courtenaye" (turning round to ad- 
 dress the writer of the acrostic), " have you 
 lost a pocket-book ? " 
 
 "No," answered Courtenaye; "but Tyn- 
 dale has, very likely. At least he took out 
 his, to lend me a pencil, about ten minutes 
 ago." 
 
 " Tyndale ! " repeated Mrs. Sandford, quick- 
 ly. She extended her hand, and seized the 
 pocket-book, before its astonished finder knew 
 what she meant to do. " We can easily set- 
 tle that point!" she said, opening it. 
 
 Mr. Courtenaye was right. On the fly-leaf, 
 Arthur Tyndale's name was written. " It is 
 his ! " said Mrs. Sandford, with a thrill, as of 
 exultation, in her voice. Then, somewhat to 
 the surprise of the lookers-on, she coolly 
 slipped the book into her pocket. " I'll give 
 it back to him, with a lecture on his careless- 
 ness ! " she said, with a laugh. 
 
 Almost at the same moment that this 
 scene was occurring on the lawn, Max met 
 Leslie as she was emerging from the house. 
 " Do you know where Arthur is ? " he asked, 
 stopping her. " I want to speak to him a 
 moment." 
 
 "No," she answered and, as she turned 
 her face toward him, he saw the look of pain 
 in her eyes " I have not seen Arthur since 
 scarcely since dinner." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Max. He had seen noth- 
 ing of Arthur himself; had known nothing 
 of the manner in which he was avoiding Les- 
 lie, and he was naturally astonished by this 
 information. Anger quick, hot, overmaster- 
 ing rushed into his heart and into his eyes. 
 It cost him a minute's effort before he could 
 control its expression for the sake of the pa- 
 thetic face before him. " He must have gone 
 home," he said, then, with as much careless- 
 ness as he could assume. " I don't think he 
 has been exactly very well to-day." 
 
 " Has he not ? " asked Leslie. Her eyes
 
 150 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 were wistful, yet proud. " He said noth- 
 ing to me of being sick. I do not know 
 where he is," she added, hastily and turned 
 away as if anxious to end the conversation ; 
 as if fearful lest, in word or sign, she might 
 .betray herself. 
 
 Max stood still for a moment, communing 
 with himself and his mustache. Then he 
 descended the steps and walked across the 
 lawn to the croquet-ground. He felt that 
 this matter could not be ended too soon, and, 
 as a step toward ending it, he must see No- 
 rah Desmond. 
 
 He found her, by a lucky chance, at some 
 distance from the croquet-ground, sitting in 
 a garden-chair, alone. Some one else had 
 taken her place in the game, she told him ; 
 she was tired, and had been obliged to re- 
 tire. " I fancy Mr. Covington was glad to be 
 rid of me," she added. "I am a wretched 
 player." 
 
 " I am afraid this has been a trying day 
 to you," he said. 
 
 "Yes, it has been very trying more 
 trying than you know," she answered. 
 
 " And I am going to make it still more so 
 that is, I am going to show you that you 
 are not done with worry even yet." Then, 
 after a short pause, which she did not break : 
 " I told you at dinner that Arthur had left 
 Strafford before I reached it this afternoon. 
 Therefore I was not able to deliver your mes- 
 sage or, rather, your answer to his demand. 
 If you are still determined to surrender the 
 letters, however, I will see him now he has 
 probably returned to Strafford and try to 
 end the matter at once." 
 
 "I am still determined to surrender 
 them," she answered, " on a condition do 
 not forget that. I demand the letter of 
 which we spoke, not only because I want it, 
 but as a proof of his good faith." 
 
 " If he refuses to deliver it? " 
 
 " I decline absolutely to deliver the more 
 important ones which I hold." 
 
 " And if he gives it up? " 
 
 " Then come back and I will give you his 
 letters." 
 
 " To-night?" asked he, surprised. 
 
 " Why not to-night? " asked she, in turn 
 rather wearily. " I am so tired you can't 
 tell how tired of all this deception and plot- 
 ting. I can see you alone to-night, hear what 
 you have to say, and, if necessary, give you 
 the letters, without exciting half so much ob- 
 
 servation and remark as I should do if we 
 waited until to-morrow. It will not take you 
 long to go to Strafford, will it ? " 
 
 " Not very long." 
 
 " Then if you do not mind coming back 
 let us get it over to-night. A strange im- 
 patience has come over me. I feel as if it 
 could not be ended too soon. These people 
 will not go for an hour or two yet more's 
 the pity ! and I can easily meet you in the 
 summer-house." 
 
 " There is but one objection to that," he 
 began. Then he stopped. He had been 
 about to invoke the powerful shade of Mrs. 
 Grundy, to hint that ill-natured people might 
 say ill-natured tilings of such a meeting; but 
 he felt instinctively that such a thought had 
 never entered Norah's mind, and that her Bo- 
 hemian indifference might be quite equal to 
 defying even Mrs. Grundy. After all, inno- 
 cence is its own best safeguard. The proud, 
 beautiful face before him seemed able to 
 make a law of conduct unto itself; and then, 
 as she said, it would be better to have it 
 ended. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " No 1 I this conflict longer will not wage, 
 - The conflict, Duty claims the giant task 
 Thy spells, O Virtue, never can assuage 
 The heart's wild fire this offering do not ask ! " 
 
 HALF an hour later, Max Tyndale mounted 
 the terrace-steps at Strafford, and found him- 
 self facing a stream of light which issued 
 from one of the flower-wreathed windows of 
 the dining-room. Wondering what Arthur 
 was doing in that particular room nt that 
 hour, he walked up to the window and looked 
 in. A glance at the open sideboard, and one 
 or two decanters on the table, showed him at 
 once what Arthur was doing, and made him 
 shrug his shoulders as he entered stooping 
 his tall head a little in order to do so. Hear- 
 ing the step, Arthur turned he had been 
 sitting in a deep chair, with his back to the 
 window and, seeing Max, he frowned impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " Why the deuce can't you come in by the 
 door, and not startle one like this ? " he said, 
 pettishly. " You are back early ! " 
 
 "Not so early as yourself," answered Max, 
 advancing and taking a seat on the other side 
 of the table. He meant to keep his temper, 
 if possible, let Arthur be as trying as he
 
 MISS DESMOND'S PROPOSITION. 
 
 151 
 
 would, but already it felt inclined to give 
 way. 
 
 " I oh, I could not stand it any longer ! " 
 said the latter, in an aggrieved tone. " It is 
 too much to ask of a man to endure such a 
 mob of stupid people for three or four hours 
 on a stretch." 
 
 " Some of the people were not stupid, how- 
 ever," said Max. " There was Miss Grahame, 
 for instance. I met her just before I left, and 
 she seemed to feel your neglect. I should 
 advise you to be a little more careful. She is 
 not a woman to endure that kind of thing 
 tamely." 
 
 "It makes very little difference to me 
 whether she is or not," said Arthur, dogged- 
 ly. " I am sick of the whole business, and I 
 don't intend to put any further compulsion on 
 myself! D n it, Max, it isn't you who have 
 had to play the part of a shuttlecock between 
 these two women ! " 
 
 " It is not I, certainly," said Max, gravely. 
 He looked at the other with his keen, dark 
 eyes, understanding perfectly the crimson 
 flush on his cheeks, the bright glitter in his 
 eyes. He saw that he had been drinking 
 deeply, and he hesitated, asking himself if 
 there was any use in broaching the subject of 
 the letters to him that night. But, like No- 
 rah, he began to feel an impatience of the 
 matter, a conviction that the sooner it was 
 ended the better. Arthur might be sober 
 enough to recognize his own interests, at 
 least. On that hypothesis, he spoke: 
 
 " I wanted to see you this afternoon," he 
 said, " but you had left before I returned. If 
 you had waited for me, you might have been 
 glad to hear that Miss Desmond agrees to re- 
 turn your letters." 
 
 " Does she ? " said Arthur, starting. Deep- 
 er color came into his cheeks, brighter light 
 flashed into his eyes. He had not expected 
 such good news. It would be something, cer- 
 tainly it would be a great deal, indeed to 
 be safely out of Xorah Desmond's power. 
 The next moment, however, he looked at his 
 cousin suspiciously. 
 
 " Miss Desmond is too shrewd a woman 
 to surrender those letters without expecting 
 somethiug in return," he said. "What is 
 it?" 
 
 " What any woman in her position has a 
 right to expect and to demand," answered 
 Max, growing stern in spite of himself. " Her 
 own letters." 
 
 " I told you that I had not one of them 
 that I never dreamed of keeping them." 
 
 " I told her that ; and, if you assert the 
 fact on your honor, she is willing to accept 
 it," said Max, not without a grim sense of the 
 satire involved in his words. "But" and 
 he leaned forward here to note the effect of 
 what he had to say " she is not sure, and 
 neither am I, that you have not a letter of 
 hers which was not addressed to you, in your 
 possession." 
 
 "What the devil do you mean?" asked 
 Arthur, angrily. He knew perfectly well 
 what the other meant, but this question is 
 every one's first expedient to gain time. 
 
 " I fancy that you know very well what I 
 mean," answered Max, quietly. " I mean that 
 I think you have in your possession a letter 
 of Miss Desmond's addressed to her sister, 
 which you found on my table, among various 
 other papers, the night Thursday night 
 that you were in my room alone." 
 
 " In ytmr room alone ! " repeated Arthur, 
 wrathfully. " I never heard such insolence ! 
 Do you mean to insinuate that I have stolen 
 your letter, or Miss Desmond's letter, or 
 whosever letter it chanced to be ? " 
 
 " I have already told you that it was a let- 
 ter addressed to Miss Desmond's sister, and 
 written by Miss Desmond herself," answered 
 Max. " I insinuate nothing ; I merely ask if 
 it is not in your possession." 
 
 "And I reply emphatically that such a 
 question is an insult, and that I decline to 
 answer it." 
 
 " Then, in that case, I am empowered by 
 Miss Desmond to say that she declines to sur- 
 render your letters." 
 
 " Declines to surrender my letters because 
 I do not choose to acknowledge the posses- 
 sion of any stray fragment of writing which 
 you may have lost? Is Miss Desmond mad, 
 or are you mad, that you bring me such a 
 message ? " 
 
 "We are neither of us mad, I hope; but 
 the matter stands thus : I am confident, from 
 the circumstances of the case, that this letter 
 must have fallen into your hands, and Miss 
 Desmond (whose property it is) demands its 
 return as a proof of good faith on your part. 
 She demands, also, that you pledge your word 
 of honor to keep your engagement with her 
 sister unbroken, and " 
 
 "And what else?" asked Arthur, break- 
 ing in suddenly with a derisive laugh. " Pray,
 
 152 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 what power does Miss Desmond imagine that 
 she possesses over my actions, that she can 
 lay down arbitrary conditions after such fash- 
 ion as. this ? " 
 
 " She does not imagine that she possesses 
 any power, but she claims a right to name 
 the conditions upon which she will surrender 
 the letters you are anxious to obtaiu." 
 
 " Not so anxious as you imagine, perhaps," 
 said the other, sneeringly. " I fancy I am 
 safe enough from any use she may be tempted 
 to make of those letters. No woman, with 
 the instincts of a lady and those, at least, 
 Norah Desmond has ever likes to proclaim 
 herself jilted." 
 
 " And how does a man, who ought to have 
 the instincts of a gentleman, like to be branded 
 with dishonor ? " asked Max, shortly. A fire, 
 not common to his eyes, gathered in them. 
 The last shreds of his well-worn patience be- 
 gan to give way. " Let us make an end of 
 this," he said, rising to his feet. " Once for 
 all, will you accept the offer which" Miss Des- 
 mond makes, or will you force upon her the 
 alternative of going to Miss Grahame with 
 these letters in her hand ? " 
 
 " She may go to Miss Grahame or to the 
 devil ! " answered Arthur, with a defiance 
 born of champagne and French brandy. "If 
 I choose to make an effort to hold my own 
 with Leslie, I do not anticipate any difficulty 
 m doing so because a woman like Norah Des- 
 mond brings forward some relics of an old 
 folly. Her character, wherever she is known 
 abroad, is so notorious, that her word will 
 pass for very little when I once make Leslie 
 clearly understand that she is a mere Bohe- 
 mian adventuress, a mere " 
 
 " Stop ! " said Max. In sudden, fiery in- 
 tensity, the word was almost equivalent to a 
 blow. " I have heard enough of this. You 
 are not defending yourself by slandering Miss 
 Desmond you are only proving how right I 
 was when I told her that it was worse than 
 folly to surrender the letters which prove the 
 utter falsehood of every word you have ut- 
 tered, or are likely to utter, concerning her ! " 
 
 " They may prove it to you," said Arthur. 
 " No doubt you have had ample opportunity 
 for judging. But you are right this has gone 
 far enough ! " said he, springing suddenly to 
 his feet, and speaking in a voice which was 
 full of passion. "Even now, if you were not 
 standing as a guest under my own roof " 
 
 " I shall not be a guest under your roof 
 
 much longer," interrupted the other. " I ac- 
 cept no obligation least of all that of hos- 
 pitality from a man whom I have ceased to 
 hold in any respect, who has forfeited every 
 characteristic of a man of honor ! " 
 
 " You will answer for this ! " said Arthur, 
 through his clinched teeth. 
 
 " Answer for it! what is there to an- 
 swer ?" returned Max, contemptuously. "Is 
 it not true ? Have you not been tried in the 
 balance and found wanting in every instinct 
 of honor, every regard for truth ? God 
 knows," said he, with a sudden, passionate 
 vehemence, " I trusted in you, believed in 
 you, hoped in you, to the last ! But after to- 
 day I should be a fool indeed if I put further 
 faith in you. Therefore I go now to tell Miss 
 Desmond the failure of my mission, and at 
 daylight I shall leave your house." 
 
 He moved toward the door as he spoke, 
 but Arthur made one stride and stood before 
 him a flame of color in his fair cheeks, a 
 gleam of menacing light in his violet eyes. 
 
 " You are altogether wrong if you think 
 you can insult me like this, even in my own 
 house, with impunity ! " he said. " You shall 
 not leave this room until you have passed 
 your word to give me the satisfaction of a 
 gentleman." 
 
 " I should as soon think of giving satis- 
 faction to my own brother which, thank 
 God ! you are not ! " was the response. " I 
 have only spoken truths which your own con- 
 science must echo, and I have spoken them 
 because our intimate friendship and near kin- 
 ship gave me a right to do so. It is a right 
 which I shall not claim again, however. I 
 repeat that, after to-night, I am done with 
 you done with you and your affairs utterly 
 and forever ! Now stand aside and let me 
 pass. This is child's play." 
 
 " We'll make it something else, then ! " 
 said Arthur, between his set teeth. He took 
 a step forward as he spoke his purpose 
 plainly to be read in his gleaming eyes, his 
 knitted brows, and tight-set lips but, though 
 he was quick and lithe as a panther, the man 
 who met him was like a rock. He extended 
 his hand, seized the assailant by the collar, 
 and swung him out of his path, just as the 
 door opened, and the face of a servant first 
 grave and decorous as usual, then stricken 
 with amazement looked in. 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir," he said, falling back 
 a step or two as Max strode toward the door.
 
 ARTHUR INSULTED. 
 
 153 
 
 It is likely that he feared summary ejection; 
 at all events, he retreated crab-fashion into the 
 hall, as the young man advanced upon him. 
 
 " What brought you here ? " demanded 
 Captain Tyndale, sharply pausing at last in 
 the middle of the hall " An ignorant servant 
 might be excused, but you know better you 
 know that you have no business to enter a 
 room unless you have been summoned." 
 
 " I I beg pardon, sir," repeated the man 
 again he was a well-trained English servant, 
 whom Arthur had brought with him from 
 abroad, and therefore, as Max said, could not 
 plead ignorance for his shortcomings "but 
 I saw a light in the dining-room, and, not 
 knowing that either of you gentlemen had 
 come back, I thought I would just come and 
 and see what it was about." 
 
 " You might have known that your master 
 or myself must be there," said Max, unmolli- 
 fied. " You ought to be aware that this kind 
 of thing will not answer. A servant must 
 learn to come only when he is bidden, and" 
 (with emphasis) " to hold his tongue." 
 
 " I think I know how to hold mine, sir," 
 said the man, respectfully. 
 
 " It will be well for you if you do ! " said 
 Captain Tyndale, significantly. Then he turned 
 away and walked toward the hall-door, which 
 stood open to the dreamy beauty of the magi- 
 cal moonlight. Before he reached it, how- 
 ever, a thought seemed to strike him he 
 wheeled round again, and addressed the ser- 
 vant, who was still lingering where he had 
 been left. 
 
 " Do you know what time the earliest 
 train passes Wexford to-morrow morning for 
 Alton ? " he asked. 
 
 "About half-past six, sir, I think," was 
 the answer. 
 
 " Tell Anderson, then, to have something 
 at the door for me and my luggage about 
 half-past five. I find that I am obliged to go 
 up to the city." 
 
 " Very well, sir." 
 
 " Half-past five, mind ! I don't want to 
 be left." 
 
 " I'll take care of that, sir." 
 
 After Max passed out, the speaker shook 
 his head solemnly. 
 
 " There's been no end of a row ! " he 
 said, half aloud. " It's no more than I ex- 
 pected all the time. I never yet seen two 
 gentlemen thicker than brothers but what I 
 says to myself " 
 
 " Giles ! " cried an irritable voice in the 
 rear. " Giles, don't you hear ? Why the 
 devil don't you keep your ears about you, 
 and come when you're called ? " 
 
 " I didn't know you had called before, 
 sir," said Giles, turning round and facing 
 his master, who was standing in the open 
 dining-room door. Even to the servant it 
 was plain, at a glance, how deeply he had 
 been drinking, and it flushed through his 
 mind that the " row " might not be so very 
 serious after all. 
 
 " You were too busy taking Captain Tyn- 
 dale's orders to listen to me, I suppose," said 
 Arthur, more angrily than before. " But I 
 want you to understand that it is I who am 
 master in this house, and not Captain Tyn- 
 dale." 
 
 " I know that, sir," said Giles. 
 
 " What was he telling you to do ? what 
 was that order I heard him giving you ? " 
 
 "He told me to tell Anderson to have 
 something at the door for him and his lug- 
 gage at half-past five to-morrow morning; he 
 wants to leave on the half-past six o'clock 
 train, sir." 
 
 " He does, does he ? " said Arthur, chang- 
 ing color violently. " We'll see about that." 
 
 " I'm not to tell Anderson, then, sir ? " 
 
 " D n Anderson, and you too ! Leave 
 the house, this instant ! and the next time 
 you come where you are not called and not 
 wanted, you'll leave it for good ! " 
 
 " Very well, sir," said Giles, sullenly. 
 He felt strongly inclined to say, " I'll leave 
 it now for good," but the thought of Ar- 
 thur's usual kind treatment, the light ser- 
 vice, excellent wages, and more excellent per- 
 quisites of his place, restrained this spirit of 
 noble independence. He left the hall by the 
 back-door, and, once out on the moonlit 
 sward, relieved his mind by the use of vari- 
 ous expletives of a forcible nature. 
 
 Arthur, meanwhile, turned back into the 
 dining-room, poured out half a glass of 
 brandy, and drank it off. " We'll see about 
 that ! " he repeated, as he set the glass down 
 with a ringing sound. A wild light seemed 
 instantly to flame into his eyes. It was evi- 
 dent that the brandy mounted to his brain 
 like lightning. " If he thinks that he can 
 treat me like this, insult me to my face, and 
 then refuse me satisfaction, I will show him 
 that he is mistaken!" he said, nodding with 
 a truculent, drunken air to the tall, flaring
 
 154 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 candles and the half-empty decanters. " No- 
 rah must understand that I'll have no more 
 of this," he continued, after a minute. " I'll 
 see her myself, and, if she insists, she can 
 have the letter, but I'll have no more carry- 
 ing of messages back and forth by a coward- 
 ly bully who takes advantage of his position 
 to offer insults, and then refuses to stand by 
 the consequences of them ! Going off to- 
 morrow morning, is he? We'll see about 
 that ! " 
 
 It was probably as a means of seeing 
 about it that he went into the library, and, 
 opening a drawer, took out a silver-mounted 
 pistol one of the small revolvers in such 
 common and deadly use at present and, 
 having ascertained that it was loaded, slipped 
 it into the breast-pocket of his coat. Thus 
 equipped, with a fiery flush on his cheeks, 
 and a fiery light in his eyes, he seized the 
 first convenient hat which came to hand, 
 stepped out into the moonlight, and, leaving 
 the house all open, the library and dining- 
 room all ablaze with light, behind him, took 
 his way across the park, following the path 
 which Max had followed fifteen or twenty 
 minutes before. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " We two stood there with never a third, 
 But each by each, as each knew well, 
 
 The sights we saw and the sounds we heard, 
 The lights and shades made up a spell 
 
 Till the trouble grew and stirred. 
 
 " Oh, the little more, and how much it is ! 
 
 And the little less, and what worlds away 1 
 How a sound shall quicken content to bliss, 
 
 Or a breath suspend the blood's best play, 
 And life be a proof of this 1 " 
 
 WHEN Captain Tyndale reached the bridge 
 spanning the stream which divided the Straf- 
 ford lands from the Rosland grounds, he hesi- 
 tated a moment, doubtful whether to turn 
 aside to the summer-house, which was situ- 
 ated at some distance on his right, or to keep 
 straight on to the villa. He was back sooner 
 than he had anticipated considerably in ad- 
 vance, indeed, of the time he had named to 
 Norah for meeting him and it was likely, 
 therefore, that she had not yet come to the 
 place of rendezvous. There were some un- 
 questionable advantages to be gained by see- 
 ing her on the lawn or in the drawing-room 
 the advantage, above all, of avoiding an 
 
 interview which would excite much 01 ill- 
 uatured comment if it were suspected or dis- 
 covered, and from this comment Max, who 
 knew his world better than Norah did, was 
 anxious to shield her ; but then there was the 
 great disadvantage of not being able to speak 
 freely, of not being secure from interruption 
 or distraction. Besides this, if he went to 
 the house and she were not there, it would 
 excite a great deal of attention in fact, be 
 very " marked," if he left again abruptly in 
 evident search of her. Again, he might not 
 be able to leave abruptly. Max was an old 
 bird, who had been caught too often in so- 
 ciety nets, not to be wary of them. He could 
 imagine himself held captive while Mrs. Sand- 
 ford or some other woman talked nonsense 
 to him, and Norah waited alone in the sum- 
 mer-house. Lastly 
 
 " View mortal man, none ever will you find, 
 If the gods force him, that can shun his fate ; " 
 
 and Captain Tyndale being emphatically a 
 mortal man, felt very little inclination to 
 shun an interview alone with Norah his 
 last, just then it occurred to him which the 
 gods seemed determined to force upon him. 
 
 After meditating duly upon all these con- 
 siderations, he decided to go to the summer- 
 house and wait for her. He glanced at his 
 watch. It was a quarter-past eleven. He 
 had told her that he would probably be there 
 at half-past that hour. Again he hesitated. 
 Should he go to the villa ? There was still 
 time enough, and a dozen words would be 
 sufficient to tell her the result of his mission. 
 But, then, it must be confessed that ho felt 
 strongly inclined for more than a dozen words. 
 She was not in his style at all, and, after to- 
 night, he would probably never see her again 
 but that was all the more reason for giving 
 his last looks time to linger on such a beauti- 
 ful face, for letting his ears drink in again 
 the sound of a voice sweet as that of the 
 sirens. He turned with an air of decision, 
 put his watch back into his pocket, and en- 
 tered the shrubbery to the right. 
 
 Is it worth while to say that, if he had 
 decided differently if he had gone to seek 
 Norah in the presence of the large and respect- 
 able social gathering at Rosland the after- 
 events which followed would have been very 
 different ? Of what action of our life might 
 not this old but ever new commonplace be 
 predicated ? Yet the consequences which 
 follow most actions are, as a general rule,
 
 A PUNCTUAL MEETING. 
 
 155 
 
 less immediate and less unpleasant than those 
 which followed this apparently trivial deci- 
 sion of Max's a decision born of the magic 
 of a woman's fair face, as many a man's de- 
 cision has been before. 
 
 When he reached the summer-house, he 
 found, as he had expected, that Norah had 
 not yet arrived. This fact did not trouble 
 him very much, however ; she had not said, 
 " I will come if possible," but she had said, 
 " I will come ! " and instinct told him that 
 what Norah Desmond promised would as- 
 suredly be performed. Lighting a cigar, 
 therefore, he sat down on the steps to wait 
 for her. The balmy, voluptuous night was all 
 around him like a spell. In its white lustre 
 every object stood out clear and distinct. 
 The distant hills melted away in silvery mist ; 
 the woods, in their dark, shadowy beauty, 
 stretched as far as the eye could reach. On 
 the smooth sward around the summer-house, 
 flecked delicately with leafy shadows, every 
 dainty fay and sprite of the greenwood might 
 have danced. A chorus of katydids sounded 
 from the large oaks behind him. From the 
 depths of the shrubbery in front rose sudden- 
 ly the sweet, melodious voice of a mocking- 
 bird. Save these sounds, every thing was so 
 still that the voice of the stream was distinct- 
 ly audible, as it flowed along its hollow, sing- 
 ing to itself in the silent night. 
 
 After a while he looked at his watch 
 again. It was thirty minutes past eleven. 
 " She will be here before long now ! " he 
 said to himself, and, as he said it, a white 
 figure emerged from the shrubbery in the 
 direction of the house and advanced toward 
 him. 
 
 He threw away his cigar, and rose as she 
 approached, conscious of a strange sensation 
 of pleasure which he did not stop to analyze, 
 but which was quite apart from the " busi- 
 ness " end that he had in view. 
 
 " I am so exactly on time," she said, as 
 she came up, " that I thought it likely I 
 should have to wait for you." 
 
 " On the contrary, I have been waiting for 
 you for a quarter of an hour." 
 
 " Is it possible ? But that was your own 
 fault. Punctuality does not mean being be- 
 fore one's time any more than after one's time, 
 it means being on it as I am." 
 
 " I did not mean to claim- the virtue of 
 punctuality that certainly belongs to you ; I 
 only meant I was glad any necessary share 
 
 of waiting should have fallen to my lot in- 
 stead of to yours. This would be an uncanny 
 place, as the Scotch say, in which to be alone 
 at midnight ! " 
 
 " Why ? because it is lonely ? I should 
 not be afraid of that. Men are not likely to 
 come here, I suppose, unless by appointment ; 
 and, if the ghost of a Dutchman appeared, I 
 should make the sign of the cross, and ex- 
 pect to see him vanish in blue smoke." 
 
 " There might be more unpleasant visitors 
 than the ghost of a Dutchman. But will you 
 come into the summer-house, or shall we sit 
 here ? " 
 
 " Here, by all means. One cannot have 
 too much of such a night as this." 
 
 " It is beautiful, certainly," said Max, but 
 he was not thinking of the night as he spoke. 
 He was thinking rather of the woman who, 
 fair as the night, sat down on the steps from 
 which he had risen, and looked up at him with 
 a smile. 
 
 " Does it not make you think of Lorenzo 
 and Jessica ? " she asked ; and, before he 
 could answer, she began to repeat : 
 
 " ' The moon shines bright. In such a night as 
 
 this, 
 
 When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, 
 Aiid they did make a noise, in such a night 
 Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls, 
 And sighed hia soul toward the Grecian tents, 
 Where Cressid lay that night. 
 
 In such a night 
 
 Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew : 
 And saw the lion's shadow ere himself, 
 And ran dismayed away ' 
 
 as I might have done, perhaps," she added, 
 with a laugh, "if I had not been very stout 
 of heart, when I saw you sitting here a 
 dark, motionless figure in the moonlight 
 with your cigar glowing like an angry eye." 
 
 " I scarcely fancied you would have seen 
 it in such a lustrous atmosphere as this. But 
 if I looked like a Cyclops, you certainly 
 looked like the incarnate spirit of the moon- 
 light as you came across the sward." 
 
 " I am not ethereal enough to look like 
 an incarnate spirit of any thing," said she, 
 glancing up again, the moonlight shining on 
 the matchless lines of her face, the tran- 
 scendent fairness of her skin, the liquid soft- 
 ness of her eyes Max had never thought 
 them soft before the beautiful curve of her 
 white throat, as the flower-like head was 
 thrown back. A fleecy shawl was draped 
 around her shoulders, but its effect only
 
 156 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 heightened her loveliness. The young man 
 caught his breath. Impassive though he was, 
 he felt his pulses thrilling and his brain 
 whirling a little. Not a woman in his style, 
 not a woman whom he admired, but still a 
 woman whose equal in abstract beauty he 
 could scarcely hope ever to see again a 
 woman at whose feet a man might almost 
 have been pardoned for falling down in abso- 
 lute worship as she sat there with the silver 
 night about her like a benediction, and all 
 Nature wrapped in stillness. " What fools 
 some men would make of themselves if they 
 were in my position ! " Max thought, with an 
 agreeable sense of superior wisdom, which he 
 immediately justified by plunging into the 
 business that had brought them there. After 
 all, what was Norah Desmond's beauty to 
 him ? A soldier with little or nothing be- 
 sides his pay could not afford to fall in love 
 with the penniless daughter of a Bohemian 
 adventurer, if she were a second Helen. 
 
 " I have just come from Arthur," he said, 
 abruptly. " I am sorry to say sorry, at least, 
 on your account, that he refuses absolutely to 
 accede to your demand about the letters." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said she, starting an expres- 
 sion like a wave of surprise sweeping over 
 her face. " Does he deny, then, that he has 
 the letter which I wish returned ? " 
 
 " No ; he professes himself insulted by the 
 charge, and will neither deny nor acknowledge 
 any thing concerning it." 
 
 " Do you not think that is equivalent to 
 owning that he has the letter? " 
 
 " I do not ' think ' so ; I am sure of 
 it." 
 
 " And equivalent, also, to refusing it ? " 
 
 " Equivalent to that, also." 
 
 " I did not expect this in the least," said 
 she, after a minute's pause. " I thought he 
 would have been more than willing to buy 
 his letters back at such a price. What is the 
 meaning of it, Captain Tyndale ? He must 
 be anxious to obtain them, while that letter 
 has no value to him. It tells him nothing 
 which he did not know before, or which he 
 could by any possibility desire to use." 
 
 " I must confess," said Max, reluctantly, 
 " that he was not at all sober, which may 
 have had something to do with his foolish 
 obstinacy. But you must forgive me if I 
 say it is a good thing, Miss Desmond. More 
 clearly than before if that be possible do 
 I realize how very unwise it would be to sur- 
 
 render those letters. For no reason," said 
 he, energetically, " have you a right to throw 
 your good name away. Now, you will throw 
 it away, if you once put those letters out of 
 your possession. Believe me, I mean what I 
 say. Arthur Tyndale is not a man to be 
 trusted. Even you do not know how far he 
 has gone in dishonor how little he would 
 hesitate over any falsity ! " 
 
 " Has he been uttering any fresh slander 
 about me ? " demanded she, with eyes that 
 began to glow, and lips apart. " If so, don't 
 hesitate tell me at once what it was." 
 
 " He only insinuates slander at present," 
 answered Max, dryly. " He will wait to do 
 more until he has the letters safely in liis 
 hands." 
 
 " But he cannot be anxious to obtain 
 them, since he does not even think them 
 worth a blurred fragment like my letter to 
 Kate." 
 
 " I have told you that he was not sober ; 
 I may add that he worked himself into a 
 violent rage, which ended in his demanding 
 ' satisfaction ' of me, and refusing absolutely 
 to entertain any of your proposals." 
 
 "How little I expected this!" she re- 
 peated. " I was so sure you would have been 
 successful, that I brought the letters with 
 me. See ! " she drew a package from her 
 pocket and held it in the palm of one hand, 
 looking meditatively at it "Here they are 
 so many ounces of passionate devotion, love, 
 trust, faith, etcetera ! Is it any wonder I am 
 willing to dispose of them that is the mer- 
 cantile phrase, isn't it ? to the original own- 
 er, very cheaply indeed ? " 
 
 " I can imagine that they are valueless 
 to you ; but, nevertheless, you should keep 
 them." 
 
 " What will you wager, that, when he is 
 sober, he will be willing to give all that I ask, 
 and more besides, to obtain them ? " 
 
 " Very likely ; but nothing should induce 
 you to accept any thing which he offers. He 
 will respect no pledge an hour longer than he 
 cares to do so. Remember, that is aiy last 
 caution to you." 
 
 She looked up with an inquisitive glance. 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? Why 
 should it be your ' last ? ' " 
 
 " Because I am going away to-morrow 
 morning," he -answered not unwilling, per- 
 haps, to note the effect of such a sudden an- 
 nouncement on her.
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S RESOLUTION. 
 
 157 
 
 The effect as much, at least, as he saw 
 of it was only astonishment, mingled some- 
 what with regret. 
 
 " You are going away ! " she repeated, 
 after a short pause. " And to-morrow morn- 
 ing ! How sudden ! Will you think that I 
 speak only from interested motives if I say 
 that I am sorry ? I really am." 
 
 " You are very kind ! " he muttered dis- 
 appointed by her self-possession, though he 
 had not the faintest reason for expecting any 
 thing else. 
 
 " I think it is you who have been kind," 
 she said, after another pause " you who 
 have taken so much trouble and annoyance 
 upon yourself without any hope of reward ; 
 and now " 
 
 " How do you know that it was without 
 hope of reward ? " he said, as she broke off 
 abruptly only her eyes supplying the words 
 unsaid " how do you know that I have not 
 been rewarded already ? To be honored by 
 your confidence and your presence would re- 
 pay much more than I have done." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " asked she, laughing 
 but the laugh, instead of being the little 
 tinkle of gratified vanity which Max knew so 
 well, had a bitter, jarring sound in it. " You 
 surely do not know how easily such honor 
 can be obtained in Bohemia, Captain Tyn- 
 dale." 
 
 "Why are you so unjust to yourself?" 
 said he, angrily. " You know better than 
 that ! You know that neither in Bohemia 
 nor out of it is such honor easily obtained 
 from a woman as proud as you are, Miss Des- 
 mond." 
 
 "And pray," demanded she flushing so 
 suddenly and deeply that he saw the suffusion 
 even in the white moonlight "what right 
 have you to suppose that I have given you 
 more than I should have given any other man 
 who crossed my path ? " 
 
 "Don't be angry," said he, smiling; "and 
 don't think me presumptuous before I deserve 
 it. I have never for a moment imagined 
 that it was any merit of my own which has 
 won for me the confidence you have given me 
 the confidence which you certainly would 
 not give ' any man who crossed your path ' 
 but only the singular circumstances which 
 have thrown us together, and made us know 
 each other very well even in the ourse of one 
 short week." 
 
 " A great deal can be done, thought, felt, 
 
 and said, in a week," said she, half dreamily, 
 looking, not at him, but at the melting line 
 of moonlit hills far away. " But, when you 
 speak of knowing me," she added, with an- 
 other low, bitter laugh, " you are talking ab- 
 solute nonsense. I have a hundred charac- 
 ters : you have seen only one." 
 
 " But in that one lies the key to all the 
 rest," said he. 
 
 She shook her head, half sadly. 
 
 " I am not a book, to be read at sight," 
 she said. " Sometimes I think that I am writ- 
 ten in cipher, even to myself." 
 
 " You are a book, to make and to repay 
 the study of a man's life!" said Max. He 
 knew that he was a fool when he uttered the 
 words ; but, just then, his senses were be- 
 witched. That fair face, with the moonlight 
 shining on it, might have made wild havoc 
 with any man's senses. r 
 
 But Norah only smiled : she was too well 
 used to such speeches and such tones to give 
 them any significance beyond the amusement 
 of the hour. 
 
 " How good of you to think so ! " said she. 
 "But my character is nothing to you," she 
 added, with a sudden flash of impatient anger. 
 " Why are we discussing it ? I came here to 
 speak of your cousin and Leslie. Let us talk 
 of them." 
 
 " How do you know that your character is 
 nothing to me ? " demanded Max, in turn 
 ignoring her last command and with a curi- 
 ous, vibrating thrill in bis voice, born of folly, 
 madness, moonlight, Heaven only knows what. 
 " How can you tell but that " 
 
 It is impossible for any one to tell what 
 he might have uttered next, if, at that mo- 
 ment, a pistol-shot had not rung out clearly 
 on the still night-air, making them both start 
 and gaze at each other with amazed, interrog- 
 ative eyes. 
 
 Norah was the first to break the pause 
 which ensued. 
 
 " What can it mean ? " she said " and so 
 near at hand, too ! " 
 
 "I don't understand it at all," said Max. 
 He thought of Arthur. But, even if Arthur 
 had left Strafford and followed him which 
 he did not conceive to be at all likely at 
 whom could he be firing? "That shot was 
 certainly fired within the grounds," he said, 
 rising to his feet. " If you will excuse me, 
 Miss Desmond, I will soon see " 
 
 " Do you mean that you are going away
 
 158 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 and leave me here ? " said Norab, quietly 
 and her tone stopped him more effectually 
 than a dozen screams could have done "I 
 should not have been afraid to be alone be- 
 fore, but now " 
 
 "True," said he, quickly. "I forgot. 
 While I went iu one direction, the shooter, 
 or shooters, might come in this. After all, 
 perhaps it may be only one of the negroes, 
 who is amusing himself with a pistol. It 
 cannot be a nocturnal duel, for there was only 
 one shot, and it does not seem that there is 
 to be another." 
 
 " From what direction did it seem to you 
 that the sound came ? " asked she. 
 
 He pointed in the direction of the stream 
 and the bridge. " There ! " he answered, 
 briefly. 
 
 "So I thought," she said. Then, after a 
 short pause, she added, in a quick, nervous 
 voice : " Do you think it could have been Mr. 
 Tyndale ? " 
 
 " Impossible. At whom, or at what, could 
 he have been firing ? " 
 
 There was silence after this for two or 
 three minutes. They both listened attentive- 
 ly, but no other report followed the katy- 
 dids, the grasshoppers, the crickets, and the 
 mocking-birds, had all the night to them- 
 selves. Then Xorah laughed a little a laugh 
 relieved, but somewhat nervous still. 
 
 " It was queer," she said ; " but it could 
 not have been any thing serious, since no 
 other shot has followed." 
 
 " I suppose not," said Max; but he spoke 
 slowly somehow, he had an instinct that it 
 had been something serious, and that he 
 would have done well to have followed his 
 first impulse, and gone to see about it ; but, 
 then, how could he leave Norah alone ? He 
 might not have hesitated so much on this 
 score if he had only known how little Norah 
 felt any fear for herself, how entirely her 
 whole assumption of it had been for him, in 
 order that he might not be drawn into a trap 
 and shot down, perhaps she did not stop to 
 ask herself by whom. Night breeds fantastic 
 fears even in the bravest heart, and braver 
 breast than that of this Bohemian girl one 
 seldom meets. 
 
 After another minute, she spoke again : 
 
 " I believe there is only one thing more to 
 be said : since your cousin refuses my terms, 
 I shall keep these letters ; and, since you are 
 going away, I must decide at once whether or 
 
 not to show them to Leslie. What do you 
 advise me to do? Tell me, and perhaps I 
 may do it." 
 
 "How encouraging!" said he, with a 
 smile. "But, in truth, I scarcely know what 
 to tell you I have lost all confidence in my 
 own judgment." He did not add that he had 
 lost all interest in the subject under discus- 
 sion. Even his Platonic devotion to Leslie 
 had faded away like " snow-wreath in thaw." 
 He knew that the interruption of the pistol- 
 shot had only just come in time to save him 
 from making a consummate fool of himself 
 and yet the temptation to do so remained as 
 great as before the interruption. But it can 
 at least be said for Max that he was a man of 
 honor: he knew that he could not afford to 
 marry Norah Desmond, even if she were will- 
 ing to marry him; therefore he knew, also, 
 that he had no right to utter one word of the 
 madness which had suddenly come upon him 
 like a flood. 
 
 " You have not even confidence enough in 
 your own judgment to advise me whether or 
 not to let matters take their course, or to tell 
 the truth to Leslie without delay?" asked 
 she, looking at him curiously. 
 
 " I cannot even tell you that," he an- 
 swered, desperately. " You must judge for 
 yourself. I am done with the whole affair. 
 I told Arthur that to-night. My diplomatic 
 career has been little besides a succession cf 
 blunders. It is a good thing that it is draw- 
 ing to a close." 
 
 " And you are going away to - morrow 
 morning ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am going away to-morrow morn- 
 ing, at half-past six o'clock. This must be 
 our good-by, therefore, and and you must 
 let me thank you, Miss Desmond." 
 
 " Thank me ! for what ? " 
 
 " For having trusted me as you have done, 
 and for having so kindly overlooked the pre- 
 judice with which I met you first." 
 
 " I knew whom to credit with that," said 
 she. " For the rest, you have treated me 
 with a courtesy and respect for which I owe 
 you thanks I believe I have told you that 
 before. And now," said she, turning to him 
 with a smile which dazzled and bewildered 
 him both at once, " when are we to meet 
 again ? " 
 
 " When * " repeated he, catching bis 
 breath shortly. " Heaven only knows. Nev- 
 er, perhaps ! "
 
 THE SEPARATION. 
 
 159 
 
 " You mean, then, that if you were to sec 
 me again across the opera-house, in Paris, 
 you would not even bow to me ? " 
 
 " I mean that, if I were wise, in such a 
 case I would go my way without recalling 
 myself to the memory of one who will prob- 
 ably by that time have forgotten all about 
 me'" 
 
 " It is very probable, indeed, that I shall 
 have forgotten all about you," said she, " for 
 I do forget people very soon ; but still, you 
 know, you could recall yourself to my mem- 
 ory, and we could shake hands, say ' How- 
 d'ye-do ? ' and think of to-night." 
 
 " Perhaps the best thing for me to do will 
 be to try and forget to-night," said he, slow- 
 ly. Now, as ever, she puzzled him. He 
 could not tell whether she were trifling with, 
 tempting, or mocking, him. He only felt 
 that this was a scene and a time to hold in 
 remembrance while life should last. The 
 majestic silence of midnight was upon the 
 earth. The moon had reached mid-heaven, 
 and was looking serenely down upon them ; 
 the shadows were small as those of noonday, 
 while over plain and hill and river, over the 
 lawn where the croquet hoops and mallets 
 were lying, over the woods full of the sweet 
 tinkle of distant waters and the soft hum of 
 insect - life, the marvelous silver radiance 
 rested. They were all alone entirely alone 
 with only the night and the moon to be 
 witness to whatever tbey might utter the 
 night and the moon, which have seen and 
 heard so much of human folly as well as of 
 human crime. 
 
 But Max was resolved that it should wit- 
 ness no further folly of his. He suddenly 
 turned and held out his hand, speaking a lit- 
 tle hoarsely. " Good-by ! " he said. 
 
 " Good-by ! " she echoed, almost coldly, 
 but she laid her slender, white hand in his. 
 It was the first time that their hands had met 
 since the day when he had clasped hers, all 
 wet and gleaming, in the boat. That recol- 
 lection came back to both of them. Their 
 eyes suddenly met. There was a thrill in 
 look as well as in touch. " Remember that 
 I kept my pledge, at least," she said, smiling 
 faintly. " I may be fast, mercenary, Bohe- 
 mianevery thing that you most dislike- 
 but don't forget that I kept faith as far as I 
 could ! " 
 
 " I shall never forget it ! " said he. And 
 then the moon saw some of the old, old folly. 
 
 All of our impassive chasseur's resolution 
 melted like wax exposed to steady flame. He 
 lifted the hand which he held to his lips, he 
 murmured words which wisdom would never 
 have sanctioned. It was only the abrupt 
 movement with which Norah drew back that 
 brought him, in a measure, to himself. 
 
 " Stop, Captain Tyndale," she said, " and 
 listen to me. I am sorry we could not have 
 parted without this. I am sorry that I can- 
 not think that one man holds me in sufficient 
 respect to treat me as he would treat the 
 women of his own class. Do you think I 
 have not seen, for an hour past, that, what 
 with the night, and the moonlight, and my 
 pretty face, I might have fooled you to the 
 top of your bent ? " asked she, with a certain 
 scornful indignation. " But I wanted for 
 once to see if some one could not know me 
 and like me, and and not try to amuse his 
 idle hours by flirting with me ! I find, how- 
 ever, that this is too much to expect. I am 
 flirting material or I am nothing. I like you 
 well enough to prefer to be nothing to you 
 therefore good-night. Perhaps it is as well 
 that you are going to-morrow." 
 
 "Norah Miss Desmond for Heaven's 
 sake, listen to me ! " he cried. 
 
 But, snatching her hand from him, she 
 turned with a gesture of almost passionate 
 pride. 
 
 " You would never have spoken to Leslie 
 like this ! " she said. " After all, you are 
 alike you and your cousin. You both think 
 that I am for one use and she is for another ! 
 No doubt you are right enough, too," she 
 added, with a sudden return to calmness. 
 " No doubt, also, I shall grow used to my 
 position in life after a while. I have not 
 learned to do so as yet ; but, then, I am 
 young at least, I ought to be. Good-night 
 again, Captain Tyndale. I hope you will 
 have a pleasant journey and a safe arrival 
 wherever you are going." 
 
 " You will not leave me like this ! " said 
 he, imploringly. 
 
 But, before the last words left his lips, 
 she had drawn her shawl closer around her 
 figure, and passed so lightly and swiftly across 
 the moonlit sward that he saw in a moment 
 it was hopeless to follow her.
 
 160 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 " There are sorrows 
 Where ol' necessity the soul must be 
 Its own support. A strong heart will rely 
 On its own strength alone." 
 
 AFTER the last guest was gone, and the 
 last good-night exchanged, Leslie went to her 
 chamber with a lagging step. It was much 
 more than mere weariness which weighed 
 upon her : it was a terrible soreness of heart, 
 an unutterable sickness of soul, which it is no 
 more possible to grasp and embody in words 
 than it would be possible to paint a death- 
 agony on canvas. All that she had endured 
 during the day seemed but a faint prelude to 
 the anguish which had possessed her, which 
 she had bravely borne and as bravely concealed 
 during the long hours of the evening. Such 
 hours it has fallen to the lot of most women 
 to endure once or twice in life ; but time 
 dulls the memory of all things, and only those 
 to whom such pangs are fresh can realize 
 what Leslie endured as she went among her 
 guests with a smiling face, talking, laughing, 
 uttering the light nothings of society, while 
 pain and doubt, suspicion and jealousy, were 
 gnawing, like the traditional fox of the Spar- 
 tan boy, at her heart. But no one save, in- 
 deed, Max Tyndale suspected any thing of 
 this from her face or manner. Is it the au- 
 thor of " Guy Livingstone " who says that it is 
 chiefly in the power to endure that good blood 
 shows itself in these Liter days of ours ? Who- 
 ever said it, it is true enough especially of 
 women like Leslie Grahame. She was thor- 
 ough-bred, not only in blood, but in instinct 
 not so invariably as we fancy, perhaps, do 
 the two things go together and there was 
 in her the stuff of which martyrs are made, 
 as well as the high-bred reserve, the supreme 
 pride which shrinks from displaying an inner 
 feeling, in a manner which a lower nature lit- 
 erally fails to understand. Leslie could have 
 died sooner than made a sign which would 
 betray, even to the aunt who had been a 
 mother to her, all that she was suffering. 
 After the guests left, she still wore her smil- 
 ing mask until she parted with the last mem- 
 ber of the household. Then she went to her 
 room where her maid was waiting, restrained 
 an inclination to dismiss the latter at once 
 knowing that such a proceeding would excite 
 a great deal of domestic remark went through 
 
 all tho. duties of the toilet as usual, and it 
 was only when every thing was finished, and 
 she was at last alone, that she sank into a 
 chair and buried her face on the cold marble 
 of the toilet-table with a low, pathetic moan. 
 
 Then the dark waters came surging over 
 her, wave en wave. Her pain was all the 
 more bitter for the mystery which seemed to 
 encompass it. Who was to blame ? What 
 had happened ? Why was she alone ignorant 
 of what every one else seemed to know ? 
 Hard questions, these questions which it 
 was impossible to answer, though they rose 
 again and again in her troubled mind. Of 
 course the doubt and mystery were dwarfed 
 by the terrible certainty a certainty borne 
 in upon her with a force which even the most 
 foolish of blindly-foolish women could not 
 have disregarded of Arthur's alienation ; 
 but they were too closely connected with this 
 to be banished altogether. The love which 
 she had leaned upon as a staff which was to 
 last through life, had broken cruelly broken 
 under her hand ; but, in the blank bewil- 
 derment of pain which ensued, she was still 
 able to remember all the innuendo which had 
 gone before, still able to ask, " What does it 
 mean ? " Round and round this treadmill of 
 hopeless thought her brain went, until she al- 
 most felt as if she should go mad if some 
 light were not thrown upon the subject, if 
 some elucidation of the mystery did not come. 
 
 But it was characteristic of the woman 
 that she never for an instant thought of seek- 
 ing this light or this elucidation. Although 
 aware that there were two people within a 
 stonc's-throw of her room who probably pos- 
 sessed the key which she lacked who, at 
 least, had spoken as if they did she never 
 stirred or dreamed of stirring to demand it of 
 them. It was not in her nature to do such a 
 thing. If the explanation came to her, she 
 would receive it, provided always that it came 
 openly and honorably ; but to solicit it was 
 something which never occurred to her. So 
 she sat motionless, her hot brow on the mar- 
 ble slab, her hot hands clasped in her lap, 
 while the night wore on toward midnight, 
 and the last sound or movement died away 
 in the house. 
 
 Slie was still sitting in this fashion, and 
 beginning to wonder if the sick pain which 
 seemed to pervade every faculty of her body, 
 mind, and spirit, would ever merge into the 
 blessed unconsciousness of sleep, when a
 
 AN UNSEASONABLE VISIT. 
 
 161 
 
 knock sounded on her door, a subdued, hesi- 
 tating, insinuating tap. Instantly she raised 
 her head, her nerves strung like tense cords, 
 her heart beating as if it would stifle her. "It 
 has come ! " That was what instinct said to 
 Lor ; that was what held her for a moment 
 absolutely speechless ; that was what cost 
 her a sharp struggle before she was able 
 to command her voice and say, " Come 
 in." 
 
 Then the door slowly opened, and, instead 
 of Xorah whom she had hoped and yet 
 dreaded to see Mrs. Sandford appeared. 
 
 " I am so glad to find you are not in bed ! " 
 that lady said, advancing into the room, and 
 closing the door with elaborate caution be- 
 hind her. " I should have been so sorry to 
 disturb you and yet, I could not have made 
 up my mind to wait until to-morrow. " my 
 dearest ! " suddenly clasping the passive 
 form of the girl in a gushing embrace " I 
 hope you have resolution to bear a terrible, 
 terrible blow, and I hope you will forgive me 
 for being the bearer of it. I would do any 
 thing in the world to spare you pain ; but, to 
 deceive you to stand by and see you de- 
 ceived oh, my darling Leslie, ask yourself 
 if I should be indeed your friend if I could 
 do that?" 
 
 " Will you not sit down ? " said Leslie, 
 disengaging herself, and drawing a chair for- 
 ward. At that moment pride made her nerves 
 as firm as steel. She even smiled at the self- 
 important, anxious look with which the other 
 was regarding her. " You are very kind to 
 come at such an unseasonable hour," she 
 said, quietly, " if, as I imagine, you are here 
 on my account. But, if you will say what 
 you have to say at once, it will be better for 
 both of us." 
 
 " It is impossible for me to tell you what 
 a struggle it has cost me to come ! " said Mrs. 
 Sandford, sitting down and putting her hand- 
 kerchief to her eyes. " I simply had to force 
 myself, and nothing but my great friendship 
 and love for you, Leslie " 
 
 " Yes," said Leslie, with a cadence of 
 weary impatience in her voice. She felt as 
 if slie could not bear these false platitudes. 
 If the woman would speak out, if she would 
 only say what she had come to say, that was 
 all she desired. " What terrible blow is it 
 that you are the bearer of?" she asked, 
 standing by the toilet-table erect and stately, 
 the shadowy glass imaging her slender figure, 
 
 11 
 
 her pale, lovely face, her soft, brow.n hair, 
 banging loose. Save that there was nothing 
 wan or melancholy in her aspect, she might 
 have stood for Ophelia. 
 
 " Oh, my dear, I scarcely know how to tell 
 you ! " said Mrs. Sandford. This was strictly 
 true. With her story on her tongue, and the 
 proofs of her story in her hand, a sudden, 
 strange embarrassment came over her. For 
 one thing, she had not counted upon being 
 met by so much self-possession and reticence. 
 She had pictured a passionate, weeping girl, 
 whom she could kiss and soothe and lead as 
 she liked. 
 
 " It does not matter in the least hoio you 
 tell me," said Leslie and through her usual- 
 ly gentle voice a jarring chord rang " so 
 that you do tell me. Suspense is worse than 
 any blow. You ought to know that. Come 
 to the point at once! Tell me whom your 
 story I see that you have a story concerns 
 besides myself." 
 
 " It concerns Miss Desmond and Mr. Tyn- 
 dale ! " said Mrs. Saudford, sharply. " Leslie, 
 it is impossible ! you must have seen, you 
 must have suspected, something between 
 them ! " 
 
 "Seen! suspected!" said Leslie she 
 threw her head back haughtily. " What do 
 you take me for ? How could I suspect my 
 sister and and the man whom I had prom- 
 ised to marry ? Take cafe, Mrs. Sandford ! " 
 no one who had not seen it would have be- 
 lieved what fire could gather in those soft, 
 gray eyes " unless you are very sure of what 
 you are saying, this subject had better end 
 here." 
 
 "But I am sure!" cried Mrs. Sandford. 
 Her blood was up now. She had made the 
 plunge, and the rest was easy enough. "I 
 suspected, from the first, that Miss Desmond 
 and Mr. Tyndale were not such new acquaint- 
 ances as they professed to be as you, poor 
 darling! took them to be and now I find 
 out that I am right," she said, with energy. 
 " Leslie, they knew each other long ago they 
 had a love-affair with each other long ago in 
 Europe. You wrote to this girl about your 
 engagement she came here at once to break 
 it off, and to draw Arthur Tyndale back to 
 herself. Tfiis 1 know. I overheard a love- 
 scene between them on the terrace at Straf- 
 ford the day we were all there, and I should 
 have told you then, only I had no proof, and 
 I knew they might deny every thing. Last
 
 162 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 night I saw Mr. Tyndale give Miss Desmond a 
 note : this morning 1 know that she went out 
 at daylight to meet him Leslie, my darling 
 girl, it goes to my heart to tell you all this ; 
 but how can I know how much further you 
 might be deceived if I let it go on ?" 
 
 " You are quite right to tell me, if it is 
 true," said Leslie, calmly. She was deter- 
 mined the other should not guess what a 
 sense of deadly faintness came over her, how 
 things grew black before her eyes, or how she 
 was fain to lean heavily against the toilet- 
 table in order to support her trembling limbs. 
 " But you must pardon me if I say that all 
 this is merely assertion," she added, after a 
 moment. " In a matter of such grave impor- 
 tance a matter touching not only my own 
 happiness, but the honor of those nearest and 
 dearest to me I should do them grievous in- 
 justice if I were convinced by any thing short 
 of proof." 
 
 "And I have proof!" said Mrs. Sandford, 
 exultantly. She forgot herself, and let that 
 tone of her voice betray her real feeling not 
 sympathy, not indignation for Leslie's wrongs, 
 but exultation, pure and simple, in the fact 
 that she held proof, absolute, indisputable 
 proof, in her hand, at last ! 
 
 "What kind of proof?" asked Leslie. 
 She had caught the tone, and it hardened her 
 heart, and braced her nerves, which for a mo- 
 ment had been in 'danger of failing. 
 
 For answer, Mrs. Sandford drew from her 
 pocket a letter, and laid it on the toilet-table, 
 so that its caligraphy could be plainly ob- 
 served, and, if necessary, read. " I suppose 
 you know that writing ? " she said, with the 
 veiled falseness coming back to her voice. 
 " I am sure the sight of it must go to your 
 heart, my dear ; for oh, what a stab it gave me 
 when I opened the pocket-book and saw 
 it!" 
 
 " The pocket-book what pocket-book ? " 
 asked Leslie. Site knew the writing in a mo- 
 ment blurred and defaced though it was, 
 there was no mistaking those bold, black 
 characters but, even in this supreme mo- 
 ment of doubt, temptation, and the sharp cer- 
 tainty of betrayal, her exquisite instinct of 
 honor remained with the girl. Touch the let- 
 ter she would not, until she knew whether or 
 not she had a right to do so. 
 
 " Mr. Tyndale's pocket-book ! " answered 
 Mrs. Sandford, with a tone of triumph, despite 
 all her efforts, ringing again in the words. 
 
 "He lost it to-night, and Mr. Ransome found 
 it as we were crossing the lawn. I put it into 
 my pocket, and forgot all about it until a lit- 
 tle while ago, when I took off' my dress. 
 Then, examining it to find out to whom it 
 belonged, you know I found this letter. It 
 seemed providential, for I was just debating 
 whether or not I should come and tell you all 
 that I knew without any proof but, of course, 
 with this, I could not hesitate any longer. I 
 don't clearly understand how it came into 
 Arthur's possession," she continued, with a 
 puzzled look, " for it is not addressed to him, 
 and it tells Miss Desmond's story from her 
 point of view ; but still if you take all that 
 she says with a great deal of allowance you 
 will see how they knew each other in Europe, 
 and how " 
 
 " Excuse me ! " said Leslie she held up 
 her hand with an indignant, silencing motion 
 " I would rather hear no more ! Indeed, I 
 absolutely decline to hear any more ! Noth- 
 ing will induce me to read a line of the con- 
 tents of this letter! " she added, with sudden 
 passion. "I should never have listened to 
 you, as I have done, if I had imagined for a 
 moment how your information was obtained. 
 If you have no other proof than this to ofTer, 
 our conversation is at an end. I will listen to 
 no more ! " 
 
 " That is just as you please, of course ! " 
 said Mrs. Sandford. Seldom in her life had 
 she been more taken by surprise, seldom in 
 her life had she been more angry. A flush 
 of color came over her face, her blue eyes 
 expanded with something besides their usual 
 infantine artlessness. " If this is your grati- 
 tude for all that I have done for you," she 
 cried, in a voice tremulous with indignation, 
 " of course, it is quite useless to say that I 
 never thought of myself. Why should I 
 have thought of myself ? Neither Miss Des- 
 mond nor Mr. Tyndale is any thing to me ! 
 They might elope to-morrow, and /should not 
 care ! I only thought of you and this is your 
 gratitude !" 
 
 "Pardon me,. if I said more than I should 
 have done ! " answered Leslie. " I scarcely 
 knew what I was saying. I did not mean to 
 be ungrateful. No doubt you desire to serve 
 me ; but I would rather remain in ignorance 
 forever, than gain knowledge by such a means 
 as this," she added, firmly. 
 
 " I consider that absurd worse than ab- 
 surd ! " cried Mrs. Sandford, angrily. " When
 
 ARTHUR TYNDALE'S LETTER. 
 
 one is deceived and betrayed, one has a right 
 to defend one's self." 
 
 " By deceiving and betraying in turn ? " 
 asked Leslie. " I cannot agree with you. If 
 I am deceived and betrayed, that is the fault 
 of others ; but it is my own fault if I disre- 
 gard my own sense of honor and integrity." 
 
 Mrs. Sandford would have liked to call 
 these commendable sentiments " melodramat- 
 ic stuff! " but, not having the requisite cour- 
 age, she shrugged her shoulders in a man- 
 ner calculated to express the same thing 
 without words. " It is just as you please, of 
 course ! " she said again, more stiffly than be- 
 fore. " I am sorry that I came ; but I thought 
 you ought to know all that is going on. No- 
 body else would speak, and circumstances 
 put the proof into my hands." 
 
 " It is impossible for me to use it," said 
 Leslie. She stood like a rock, with her proud, 
 pathetic face, her wistful eyes with their look 
 of bitter pain. " If I read that letter, I 
 should never respect myself again ! " she 
 cried, with a vibrating thrill in. her voice. 
 
 " I suppose I had better take it and put it 
 back into the pocket-book, then," said Mrs. 
 Sandford, with a tone of contemptuous vex- 
 ation in her voice. Her grand coup had ended 
 in failure, and at that moment she was so 
 angry with Leslie that she could scarcely 
 trust herself to speak. She rose, and, ad- 
 vancing to the toilet-table, laid her hand on 
 the letter ; but, to her surprise, Leslie inter- 
 posed. 
 
 " If you will excuse me," she said, " I 
 should prefer to keep this. I have the best 
 right to do so, and it will enable me to return 
 it to its owner." 
 
 " Oh, certainly," said Mrs. Sandford, draw- 
 ing back her hand. " I have no right to it, 
 and not the least disposition to claim one. 
 As I said before, Miss Desmond's and Mr. 
 Tyndale's conduct is nothing to me! " 
 
 But, as she spoke thus, the pretty widow 
 thought cynically that, after all, Leslie had 
 indulged in a most absurd and unnecessary 
 pretence of pharisaical honor. It was evi- 
 dent at a glance that she meant to keep the 
 letter to read ; why, then, could she not have 
 read it at once, without all this "fuss?" 
 But, even as she a?ked the question, her in- 
 dignant contempt changed oddly enough into 
 something like respect. Leslie, it was evi- 
 dent, knew "what she was about." She 
 meant to read the letter, but she did not 
 
 mean to be detected in doing so. Mrs. Sand- 
 ford felt able to appreciate the shrewdness of 
 this manoeuvre, 
 
 " To think that I should have been fool 
 enough to be deceived for a minute by all her 
 high-flown nonsense i " she said, to herself, as 
 she left the room and walked down the cor- 
 ridor to her own chamber. " I ought to have 
 known better. But she is shrewder than I 
 gave her credit for being -oh, much shrewd- 
 er ! What a point she will make now of not 
 having read it, when she returns it, and all 
 the time she will know every word in it as 
 well or better than I do ! I might have pre- 
 tended the same thing if I had chosen!" 
 thought the fair widow, virtuously. " But, 
 after all, it is safer to tell the truth there's 
 some comfort in that." 
 
 Left alone for the second time, Leslie 
 stood for several minutes quite motionless, 
 looking at the letter as it lay before her on 
 the marble where Mrs. Sandford had first laid 
 it. During those minutes she wrestled with 
 and overcame as sharp a temptation as falls 
 to the lot of most of us during this mortal 
 life. In that letter was the irutli the truth 
 unglossed by deceiving words, or looks, or 
 tones the truth as it was, and not as it might 
 perhaps be told to her. It had been brought 
 and laid before her by no act of her own ; if 
 she put it from her, could she ever be quite 
 sure that the mystery under which she 
 writhed was made plain as this would make 
 it plain ? 
 
 After a while she turned abruptly away, 
 and walked across the room to an open win- 
 dow which overlooked the lawn, on which 
 moonlight and shadow were blended, the 
 shrubbery, the woods, the distant fields and 
 hills, all the serene, beautiful, silver-flooded 
 prospect, with the marvelous sky arching 
 overhead, and the murmur of the river over 
 its rapids far away making a weird, mystical 
 music on the summer night. Here she stood, 
 asking herself, vainly and torturingly, what 
 she should do. They had known each other, 
 loved each other, long ago ! That was the 
 refrain of all her thoughts, the sharpest sting 
 of all her pain. They had deceived her from 
 the first ! Although she repeated this again 
 and again, she could not realize it she could 
 not force her comprehension to grasp it as an 
 intelligent fact. She found herself going back 
 with vague wonder over Norah's arrival, No- 
 rah's meeting with Arthur, Arthur's pretend-
 
 1C4 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 ed shrinking from her, Norah's pretended ac- 
 quaintance with Max. " And they knew each 
 other then," she would think. " All the time 
 they were deceiving me, and smiling to them- 
 selves, perhaps. It was all false ! false ! 
 false ! " 
 
 Yes, all false every thing false ! The 
 lover's love, the sister's affection all false ! 
 She had never really possessed either the 
 one or the other. For some inscrutable rea- 
 son, they had chosen to make a tool and dupe 
 of her, but she had been no more to either of 
 them than that. She thought of all her trust 
 in Arthur, of all her plana respecting the 
 change she would make in Norah's life. 
 Somehow, these things came back to her as 
 she stood there in the moonlight alone with 
 her great desolation, her inexpressible pain. 
 
 And it was while she still stood, gazing 
 blankly, dumbly out on the jewel-like beauty, 
 which she did not see, that her attention was 
 attracted how, she scarcely knew by a 
 white-clad figure which emerged from the 
 shrubbery, and, crossing the lawn, came slow- 
 ly, as if careless of observation, toward the 
 house. 
 
 That it was Norah she knew in a moment. 
 There was no mistaking the lines of the fig- 
 ure, or the stately, unconscious majesty of 
 the gait. Her head was bent a little, in an 
 attitude not usual with her; but the free, 
 elastic step was unchanged. Varying the 
 monotony of its dull pain, a throb of bitter 
 anguish seemed to seize and rend Leslie's 
 heart. It was true, then, all that Mrs. Sand- 
 ford had said ! There were assignations, meet- 
 ings this, no doubt, had been one of them. 
 Oh, the misery, the bitterness of feeling, of 
 knowing, of seeing, how she was betrayed ! A 
 great passion of outraged love and jealousy 
 swept over the girl like a flood. She sudden- 
 ly smote her hands together with an unuttered 
 prayer. " my God, my God, teach me how 
 to bear it ! " was her inward cry a cry which 
 He to whom she spoke scarcely left unan- 
 swered. 
 
 Meanwhile, she heard Norah enter the 
 veranda, open one of the Venetian blinds of 
 the sitting-room the windows were rarely 
 closed at night and so pass, without diffi- 
 culty, into the house. It is likely that she 
 took off her shoes before ascending the stair- 
 case, for, after this, Leslie heard no further 
 sound. 
 
 But, in truth, she did not listen for it. 
 
 Her mind was full of something else. A reso- 
 lution came to her like a flash of inspiration. 
 She would go to Norah ! That was the, best 
 thing to do. Unconsciously to herself or, at 
 least, unacknowledged by herself Leslie felt 
 that there was no hope of hearing truth from 
 Arthur Tyndale. But Norah Norah, with 
 her defiance and recklessness, might tell it, 
 perhaps, when confronted with the plain proofs 
 of all that had been revealed by chance or 
 accident. 
 
 Leslie did not give her resolution time to 
 change. She was in one of those moods when 
 even the most impassive feel that they must 
 act or die. She turned from the window, 
 crossed the floor, took the letter from the 
 table, where it still lay, and, opening the door 
 noiselessly, passed, in her bare, unslippered 
 feet, down the corridor to Norah's room, un- 
 der the door of which a bright stream of light 
 shone. ' 
 
 In this room Norah had not been more 
 than five minutes, and she was still lying, 
 where she had thrown herself in utter exhaus- 
 tion, across the foot of the bed, when Leslie's 
 sudden knock startled her. Immediately her 
 alert vitality asserted itself. She sprang to 
 her feet, unable to conjecture what such a 
 sound, at such an hour, could possibly mean 
 and, instead of saying " Come in," walked 
 quickly to the door and opened it. Her 
 amazement wh'en she faced Leslie Leslie, in 
 her night-dress, and pale as a statue could 
 scarcely have been exceeded. 
 
 " Leslie !" she exclaimed. "What is the 
 matter ? "What has happened ? Ccine in ! " 
 
 "Nothing is the matter at least, I mean 
 nothing has happened," answered Leslie, 
 coming in. " I want to see you that is all. 
 I am sorry to have startled you." 
 
 " Oh, nothing startles me very much," an- 
 swered Norah, who had regained all her self- 
 possession. " My nerves are good Kate often 
 says that she thinks I have none. Pray, sit 
 down you look pale. Here is a comfortable 
 chair." 
 
 Leslie sat down indeed, she was trem- 
 bling from head to foot, and more than ready 
 to do so. The reaction from her tense strain 
 of nervous excitement began to make itself 
 felt. But, as yet, the strong power of will 
 bore her up. Her voice was as steady and 
 quiet as usual when she looked at Norah and 
 spoke again. 
 
 " I ought to beg pardon for disturbing you
 
 MRS. SANDFORD'S INTERFERENCE. 
 
 165 
 
 at such an hour. I should not have done so | 
 if I had not seen you cross the lawn a few 
 minutes ago, and therefore I knew you were 
 still up." 
 
 " Yes, I crossed the lawn a few minutes 
 ago," said Norah, quietly but there was a 
 slight strain of defiance in her voice. Had 
 Leslie come to lecture her on propriety ? 
 This was the idea which at once occurred to 
 her. 
 
 But Leslie was thinking of something be- 
 sides propriety. At another time she would 
 certainly have been shocked at the idea of a 
 young lady wandering, either alone or at- 
 tended, about the grounds, at midnight, when 
 all the rest of the household were safely and 
 decorously in bed but now she had no time 
 to spare for being shocked. She accepted 
 the fact that Norah had been to meet Arthur, 
 and passed on at once to the other, the more 
 important matter bearing relation to this fact. 
 
 " Since I saw you last," she said, " a letter 
 has been put into my hands which belongs 
 to you, or, at least, was written by you, and I 
 have thought it best to bring it to you my- 
 self." 
 
 As she spoke, she laid the letter down on 
 a table which was near at hand the same 
 table on which stood the desk that had so 
 tempted and so baffled Mrs. Sandford. The 
 moment that her hand was lifted from it, No- 
 rah recognized it. A glow of color flashed 
 into her face. She glanced from the letter to 
 Leslie, and from Leslie back to tbe letter. To 
 imagine where it had come from certainly 
 puzzled her. 
 
 " Yes, this is mine," she said, taking it up 
 and glancing at the blurred pages. " It is a 
 letter to Kate, which I wrote several days 
 ago, and lost." 
 
 "Lost!" repeated Leslie, involuntarily. 
 Hope assuredly springs eternal in the human 
 breast. At that moment her heart gave a 
 leap; she was almost ready to believe that 
 the whole thing had been a great and terrible 
 misconception. But Norah's glance, and No- 
 rah's tone, the next moment, undeceived her. 
 
 " I suppose, of course, you have read it? " 
 she said, glancing from the letter to the pale 
 face before her with a keenness and coolness 
 which seemed to fall like ice on Leslie's heart. 
 
 " No," the latter answered, not indig- 
 nantly, but so quietly that the word sounded 
 almost indifferent. " It was not mine ; I had 
 no right to read it." 
 
 " And may I ask how it came into your 
 possession ? " 
 
 14 You have a right to do so, I suppose. 
 Mrs. Sandford brought it to me ; she found it 
 in a pocket-book of Ar of Mr. Tyndalo's, 
 which he dropped on the lawn." 
 
 41 Indeed ! " said Norah. 
 
 Expressive as this monosyllable can be 
 made, it has seldom been more expressive 
 than as it fell from her lips. It meant many 
 things which Leslie did not understand : for 
 one thing, that Max and herself had been 
 right in believing that Arthur had the letter ; 
 and, for another, that it was no wonder he 
 had declined to deliver what had passed out 
 of his possession. She did not know that he 
 had firmly believed himself possessed of the 
 letter at the very time when he refused to 
 acknowledge any thing about it to Max, and 
 that his conduct could only be accounted for 
 on the grounds of general depravity and 
 drunken obstinacy. 
 
 " This is not the first time that Mrs. Sand- 
 ford has interfered in a matter which does 
 not concern her in the least," Miss Desmond 
 said, after a little while, very coldly even at 
 this supreme moment of preoccupation Leslie 
 could not help being struck by the utter ab- 
 sence of any thing like " detected guilt " in 
 her manner or appearance " I need hardly 
 ask whether or not she has favored you with 
 an account of the various items of informa- 
 tion with regard to Mr. Tyndale and myself 
 which she has gleaned by eavesdropping and 
 other honorable means ? " 
 
 "She made some statements which cer- 
 tainly seemed to me very strange," said Leslie. 
 She could scarcely articulate ; her lips seemed 
 parched, her tongue was heavy as lead. It 
 was true, then, all true; and this matchless 
 assurance was .only the careless insolence of 
 one to whom detection was of no importance. 
 " For one thing," she said, gathering courage, 
 " she told me that Mr. Tyndale and yourself 
 had known each other long ago abroad." 
 
 41 She is quite right," said Norah. She 
 was leaning her elbow on the table as she 
 spoke, and her smooth chin in the pink palm 
 of her hand, while her full chestnut eyes met 
 Leslie's own. 4< Mr. Tyndale and I knew each . 
 other very well when he was abroad two 
 years ago." 
 
 41 And jet you told me," cried Leslie, with 
 passionate indignation but here her voice 
 choked and broke down.
 
 166 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 After all, some things are too great for 
 speech. Her agony of ruined love and shat- 
 tered trust was one of them. 
 
 " I told you or I allowed you to imagine 
 what was not true," said Norah, in her 
 clear voice. " Yes, I acknowledge that. But 
 it was, or I thought it was, a necessity of my 
 position. The great mistake which I made 
 was in ever having come here. You were 
 living in a fool's paradise, it is true a para- 
 dise built on lies and deception but, if I 
 had only stayed away, you might have con- 
 tinued to live in it with tolerable comfort to 
 the end." 
 
 " What do you mean? " asked Leslie, with 
 a gasp. 
 
 By this time her mind felt as if it was lit- 
 erally reeling under the continually varyin 
 and multiplying impressions which were 
 thrust upon it. She was only aware now of a 
 strange consciousness that Norah was mis- 
 tress of the situation ; that Norah held the 
 key of all this mystery which so puzzled and 
 tormented her. There was something of su- 
 preme gentleness and pity in those brilliant 
 eyes, and Norah's tone was very different from 
 that of one arraigned for her own misdeeds. 
 
 li Shall I tell you what I mean ? " said she, 
 gravely. "Are you strong enough to bear 
 the truth the whole truth ? If you are, you 
 shall hear it ! I said that from the first. If 
 you wished to live on lies, I was willing to 
 let you do so. But, if you want the truth " 
 " I do want the truth ! " interrupted Les- 
 lie, passionately. " What else should I want ? 
 for what else am I here? The truth, howev- 
 er bitter and terrible it may be ! " she cried, 
 clasping her hands. "I have endured the 
 sting, the misery, the agony of deception, 
 until I am ready oh, more than ready to 
 hear the truth, whatever it may be ! " 
 
 " Then you shall hear it," said Norah, al- 
 most solemnly. She extended her hands, 
 and, with one of the quick, impetuous mo- 
 tions which characterized her, opened and 
 spread out the letter which lay between them. 
 " If you will read this," she said, " it will tell 
 you something ; the rest I can supply, and 
 these " drawing again from her pocket the 
 .letters she had shown to Max " these shall 
 be my proofs of all I utter. Courage, my 
 poor Leslie ! The pang is sharp, but, believe 
 me, there are women who have lived through 
 worse ay, and learned to scorn as deeply as 
 they ever loved ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 " 'Tis a stern and startling thing to think 
 How often mortality stands on the brink 
 
 Of its grave without any misgiving: 
 And yet in this slippery world of strife, 
 In the stir of human bustle so rife, 
 There are daily sounds to tell us that Life 
 
 Is dying, and Death is living 1 " 
 
 FROM midnight, of a midsummer night, to 
 the time when the first rosy flush of day be- 
 gins to break in the east, is not very long, as 
 most of us have, at one time or another of 
 our lives, practically discovered. Max Tvn- 
 dale discovered as much for himself after he 
 parted with Norab, and, returning to Straf- 
 ford, began to prepare for his intended jour- 
 ney. With most men that special terror of 
 the feminine soul, "packing," is a process 
 chiefly remarkable for simplicity and brevity ; 
 but Max had been established at Strafford 
 long enough to find a good deal on his hands 
 when it became necessary to prepare for a 
 final departure in this abrupt fashion. For- 
 tunately, he had a natural neatness and love 
 of order added to his military training, so 
 that the gathering together and disposing of 
 many odds and ends was not so serious a mat- 
 ter to him as it would have been to the ma- 
 jority of men. In an hour or two his labors 
 were finished. Then he sat down and wrote 
 a few lines to Arthur, thanking him for his 
 hospitality, and regretting that they had 
 parted so angrily lines touched somewhat 
 by the memory of old kindness, though Max's 
 heart was still hard against his cousin. After 
 this, he threw himself on the bed, and, having 
 a good conscience, and a not particularly 
 damaged heart, was soon sleeping soundly, 
 while the air freshened, the moon sank tow- 
 ard the west, and the east began to glow. 
 
 Of course, he dreamed of Norah Desmond 
 what man could have failed to do so, with 
 the scene of the summer-house fresh in his 
 recollection ? but his dreams were not h-y any 
 means as agreeable as the reality. He saw 
 her again standing before him in the moon- 
 light, beautiful and proud, with her hand ex- 
 tended in farewell ; but, when he was in the 
 act of taking it, the shot which had startled 
 them sounded again, and she sank dead at his 
 feet. Oddly enough, he was distinctly con- 
 scious that it was a nightmare; but he could 
 not waken himself sufficiently to shake it off, 
 and the dream went on. She was taken and
 
 AN ALARMING SUSPICION. 
 
 16? 
 
 borne to tlio house he saw the fair face, with 
 *he death-agony stamped upon it, in the coffin 
 nay, he even heard them nailing down the 
 lid. Did they know that they were nailing 
 down his heart with it? He knew it now, 
 too late. He tried to move and cry out. 
 Suddenly he sprang to his feet, wide awake, 
 conscious that it was broad daylight, and that 
 Giles was knocking at his door. 
 
 " Come in why the deuce don't you come 
 in ? " he cried, snappishly even the bcst- 
 natured people are sometimes snappish when 
 waked abruptly at five o'clock in the morning. 
 
 " Door's locked, sir ! " responded Giles, 
 struggling with the handle on the other side. 
 
 " True enough I forgot that," said Cap- 
 tain Tyndale. He glanced at his watch: it 
 was just five o'clock. Then he crossed the 
 floor and unlocked the door which he had 
 absently fastened behind him the night before. 
 
 "What is the matter?" he demanded. 
 " What are you making such a confounded 
 row about ? I told you I wanted to get off at 
 half-past five, and it is only five now." 
 
 " I know that, sir," said Giles. "I didn't 
 come on that account, sir. I come to ask if 
 you know where Mr. Tyndale is ? " 
 
 " Where he is ! In bed, I suppose," an- 
 swered Max, opening his eyes. " Where else 
 should he be?" 
 
 " But he isn't there, sir," said the servant, 
 looking puzzled. " He went out a little after 
 you did, last night, sir, and I don't think he 
 could have come back. At least he isn't in 
 his room, and I've been all over the house, 
 arid he isn't anywhere." 
 
 "Isn't anywhere?" repeated Max. He 
 looked, as he felt, considerably astonished. 
 A recollection of the shot of the night before 
 came back to him ; and, although he could 
 see no reason for connecting it with Arthur, 
 instinct sometimes connects things in spite 
 of reason. " He may have gone over to llos- 
 land, and accepted an invitation to spend the 
 night," he said, after a short pause thougli 
 he felt how extremely improbable such a thing 
 was. " Did he leave the house on foot, and 
 how long after I did ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, he left it on foot," said Giles, 
 looking a little suspicious, and as if he fancied 
 that this information was not exactly neces- 
 sary. " I saw him come out of the library- 
 window, and cut across the park in your 
 very tracks, sir about ten minutes, or maybe 
 aquarter of an hour, after you left the house." 
 
 " And you are sure he did not come back ? " 
 
 "I'm quite sure of that, sir. His bed hasn't 
 been slept in, nor his room set foot in, last 
 night." 
 
 "What can have become of him?" said 
 Captain Tyndale, musingly. Having mentally 
 pooh-poohed his first vague idea about the 
 shot, he felt more curiosity than alarm con- 
 cerning this mysterious disappearance. He 
 knew what Arthur's condition had been the 
 night before, and that he was ready for any 
 thing, however desperate or absurd. The 
 question was, what desperate or absurd thing 
 had he done? Max's own impression was 
 that he had gone away, as he had threatened 
 to do, the day before ; but, of course, he said 
 nothing of this to the servant standing by si- 
 lent, watchful, and expectant. 
 
 " Your master is able to take care of him- 
 self," he said. " No doubt he'll turn up all 
 right after a while. By-the-by, I suppose you 
 don't know whether any train passes Wexford 
 about midnight, or a little later, do you ? " 
 
 " Anderson's just been telling me that the 
 schedule changed yesterday," answered Giles. 
 " He was over at Wexford and heard it; but 
 he don't know exactly about the hours. He 
 heard the railroad people saying that the ten- 
 o'clock train wouldn't be along till after mid- 
 night ; but he don't know any thing about the 
 half-past six " 
 
 " Tell him to be at the door by a quarter 
 to six, at all events, and we'll drive over and 
 see about it," said Max, curtly having no 
 fancy for a longer stay at Strafford under any 
 circumstances. " See that there's a cup of 
 coffee in the dining - room for me when I 
 come down," he added ; " and what are you 
 waiting for ? That is all." 
 
 " Hadn't I better send a messenger over 
 to ask whether Mr. Tyndale's at Mr. Middle- 
 ton's, sir ? " 
 
 <; If you want Mr. Tyndale to break your 
 head, you had certainly better do so. He is 
 not a baby, and I don't think he would ex- 
 actly relish being treated as if he were." 
 
 With this reply Giles took his departure, 
 long-faced and serious. It may be said for 
 him that he was anxious as well as puzzled. 
 It was impossible for any one to be closely 
 associated with Arthur Tyndale without be- 
 coming attached to him. Seen generally and 
 superficially, he was generous, amiable, frank 
 of manner, and open of hand a debonair 
 young prince with whom the world went well,
 
 168 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 and who was willing to throw a little of his 
 sunshine on the lives of those around him. 
 This when the world did go well with him. 
 What he was when it went ill these pages, 
 which record an exceptional ;ind not a usual 
 phase of his character, may tell. 
 
 Meanwhile, half an hour went on, and no 
 sign of him appeared. A general impression 
 that something was wrong had, by this time, 
 diffused itself throughout the Strafford house- 
 hold. Under the stress of these circum- 
 stances Giles's tongue was loosed, and he gave 
 forth hints respecting what he might say con- 
 cerning a serious difficulty between the two 
 cousins the night before. These hints, 
 coupled with Arthur's disappearance and 
 Max's proposed departure, were enough to 
 set the tongues of half a dozen servants at 
 work. The cook shook her turbaned head 
 over the cup of coffee she was making for 
 Captain Tyndale ; Anderson shook his head 
 over the horses he was harnessing in the sta- 
 ble ; the housemaid stood with a broom in her 
 hand talking to Giles on the front portico, 
 and both of them shook their heads at inter- 
 vals. " / wouldn't a' asked Cap'n Tyndale 
 no odds Pd a'sent to Rosland anyhow," 
 Mary Ann was saying, indignantly, when, 
 greatly to her dismay, Captain Tyndale him- 
 self stepped out of the open hall-door upon 
 them. 
 
 " I am going for a short turn in the park," 
 he said. " Have the coffee ready, and bring 
 my luggage down I shall not be gone ten 
 minutes." 
 
 " Very well, sir," said Giles. He turned 
 into the house at once, like the well-trained 
 servant he was, but Mary Ann stood her 
 ground, and, under pretense of sweeping off 
 the portico-steps, watched Captain Tyndale 
 as he descended the terrace, and struck 
 across the dewy grass, and cool, long shad- 
 ows, straight in the direction of Rosland. 
 
 In truth, Max was conscious of a queer, 
 uneasy sensation which he could not set at 
 rest a persistent recollection and connection 
 of Arthur's excited face and the pistol-shot of 
 the night before, which he found it impossible 
 to dismiss. He called himself a nervous fool 
 to attach any serious significance to his cous- 
 in's absence ; but, all the same, he felt that he 
 could not turn his back on Strafford without 
 having satisfied himself by personal observa- 
 tion that nothing tragical had occurred. He 
 certainly thought Arthur's absence singular, 
 
 though he had not admitted as much to Giles. 
 It was folly to suppose that he had gone to 
 Rosland, and the idea that he a sybarite of 
 sybarites had walked to Wexford in order 
 to take the train, was simply ludicrous. 
 What, then, had become of him ? where 
 had he spent the night? Max was aware 
 that the vagaries of a drunken man are often 
 beyond the astutest range of sober intelli- 
 gence, but he wanted to be sure that no harm 
 had come to the young man, and, as a means 
 of ascertaining this, instinct, rather than rea- 
 son, turned his steps in the direction of the 
 bridge, on which or near which the pistol 
 must have been fired the night before. 
 
 If the night had been beautiful, the day 
 was peerless ; but, as he walked along, lie 
 scarcely heeded its glory or freshness. The 
 shadows stretched serenely beautiful over the 
 sparkling grass ; the air was like crystal in its 
 lucid clearness; the distant violet hills stood 
 out with exquisite distinctness against the 
 horizon-line ; in the leafy depths of the woods 
 an infinite number of birds were singing, 
 twittering, chirping, ushering in the summer 
 day with a chorus of melody. Every thing 
 was jubilantly joyous jubilantly full of life. 
 Half unconsciously Max felt this ; half uncon- 
 sciously it jarred on his mood. He was more 
 nervously, indefinitely uneasy than he cared 
 to acknowledge even to himself. One of those 
 presentiments at which we laugh (when they 
 are not fulfilled), warned him that " some- 
 thing had happened," and this feeling in- 
 creased with every minute. 
 
 It increased as he left the park behind, 
 passed through a belt of outlying forest, and 
 came to a bend of the path which led across 
 some fields. As he emerged out of the green 
 region of shadow into the full glow of sun- 
 light already warm, even at this early hour 
 he caught sight of a dark figure at some 
 distance advancing at a rapid pace toward 
 him. 
 
 Fora second the- thought occurred to him 
 that it might be Arthur. The next instant he 
 saw that, instead of being Arthur, or any- 
 body like Arthur, it was a negro, without a 
 hat, running at full speed a negro who, when 
 he saw him, threw up his arms and shouted 
 something unintelligible. 
 
 The young man stopped short, stopped as 
 if he had been shot, and stood motionless, 
 rooted to the ground. At that moment an 
 instinctive certainty of what had happened
 
 DISCOVERY OF ARTHUR'S BODY. 
 
 169 
 
 came to him as clearly as if it had been ut- 
 tered in plainest language in his ear. A con- 
 stricting hand seemed to seize his heart and 
 hold it still for a minute a long, horrible 
 minute in which the bright, beautiful, golden 
 prospect lay spread out before him unchanged, 
 and that dark figure speeding along seemed 
 to advance at a snail's pace. 
 
 When the boy a field-hand, whom he 
 chanced to know by sight and name reached 
 him, he was panting so that he could scarcely 
 articulate. But, if ever terror and horror 
 were imprinted on a human countenance, 
 they were imprinted on his. No need to ask 
 what presence he had seen. There is but one 
 before which humanity quails in such wild 
 consternation. His eyes were distended so 
 that they looked as if they might start from 
 his head, his lower lip was hanging like that 
 of an idiot, and quivered convulsively. He 
 stammered forth his news so that Max only 
 caught two words " Mass Arthur " and 
 " dead." 
 
 Those two words were enough. They told 
 him all that he had blindly, instinctively felt 
 assured that he should hear, and, face to face 
 with the certainty, his nerves seemed to quiv- 
 er for a moment, and then grow firm again. 
 He had not afterward the faintest recollec- 
 tion of what he said or did ; but the boy, 
 who was literally chattering like an idiot, 
 often related, to wondering audiences, how 
 coolly Captain Tyndale looked at him and 
 spoke. 
 
 " Take time and tell me plainly what is 
 the matter," he said. " Where is Mr. Tyn- 
 dale, and how do you know that he is " 
 
 He stopped even his self-possession 
 could not enable him to utter that final 
 word. 
 
 " lie's down at the creek ! " was the unex- 
 pected answer, given in a horror-stricken 
 whisper. " I was a-comin' across, sir, an' I 
 seen a man lyin' there, so I went down, an' 
 an' an' it was Mass Arthur ! " said the 
 boy ; and, having been brought up on the 
 Tyndale estate, he ended by bursting into 
 tears. 
 
 " At the creek ! " repeated Max. He asked 
 no further questions. That was all he wanted 
 to know where. He started at once at a 
 pace equal to a run, crossed the fields, en- 
 tered another belt of woods, and soon reached 
 the stream, the small creek which bound- 
 ed the Rosland grounds, and has been sev- 
 
 eral times mentioned in the course of this 
 story. 
 
 Approaching from the side next Strafford, 
 he could see nothing until he gained the very 
 edge of the bank, which, just at the bridge, 
 was some ten or twelve feet above the pres- 
 ent level of the water. As he drew near, his 
 pace involuntarily slackened a little ; he gave 
 one quick, heaving breath ; for an instant he 
 felt as if it were literally impossible to advance 
 farther. But he shook off this weakness and 
 went on, until, standing at the entrance of 
 the bridge, he laid his hand on the railing 
 and looked over. 
 
 Instinct, rather than any conscious act of 
 the reasoning faculties, had guided his steps 
 within the railing of the bridge ; and it was 
 fortunate for him that it had been so, since, 
 prepared though he was for the sight that 
 awaited him, the first glance upon it almost 
 unmanned him. A sudden trembling seized 
 his frame ; his sight grew so dim that, after 
 that first look, he gazed down on a thick 
 white mist only. The iron nerves that had 
 been unshaken when bullets were raining 
 like hail, and men falling like leaves, around 
 him, quivered now with a sick faintness he 
 had never known on the bloodiest battle-field. 
 That was in the high carnival of death and 
 carnage, however; what else could have been 
 looked for then ? But now, amid all this 
 wealth of sylvan beauty and joy, for Arthur 
 of all human beings, Arthur to be lying 
 dead, stricken out of life in the glory of his 
 youth, his beauty, his strength, and health, 
 seemed something far too terrible and hideous 
 for belief! 
 
 Yet it was so ! The step of the panting 
 negro, as he reached Max's side, roused the 
 latter to something of his usual self-posses- 
 sion. He pressed his hand over his eyes for 
 a minute to clear away their dimness, then he 
 looked down again, and saw a motionless 
 form, a white, rigid face, on which the golden, 
 sunbeams fell quiveringly through the green 
 leaves softly rustling overhead. 
 
 He stood with his eyes fastened upon the 
 dead man for what seemed a long time to the 
 spectator beside him ; but there was some- 
 thing in the expression of his face which pre- 
 cluded the possibility of the negro's ventur- 
 ing to disturb him. At last he turned and 
 spoke quietly, almost gently : 
 
 " Go over to Rosland, Lewis, as fast as 
 you can, and tell Robert that you want to see
 
 170 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Mr. Middleton say that you have a message 
 on business for him. Take care, however, 
 and don't mention any thing about this or 
 it may get to the ears of the ladies of the 
 family, and, you know " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Lewis his eyes distend- 
 ing again with a gleam of intelligence as 
 Captain Tyndale stopped suddenly, with a 
 sort of gasp in his voice, " I'll not say a word, 
 sir." 
 
 " Speak to Mr. Middleton alone, and ask 
 him to come over to Strafford immediately 
 say that I want to see him on very particular 
 business, or I should not send for him at 
 such an hour. Come back with him, and, as 
 soon as you are out of hearing of the house, 
 tell him what is the matter." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 Left alone, Max stood still for some time 
 longer, trying to realize the awful truth that 
 was there before his eyes. Try as he would, 
 however, it was something which he found it 
 impossible to do. Connect that silent figure 
 with Arthur he could not : and it was only 
 by an effort he roused himself at last, and, 
 slowly leaving the bridge, walked along the 
 bank of the creek for some twenty or thirty 
 yards toward a spot where the ground sloped 
 gradually downward until the greensward 
 was but a few inches above the bed of the 
 stream, which, shrunken now by the summer 
 drought to less than half the width and vol- 
 ume of its winter current, rippled clear and 
 shallow along the middle or deepest part of 
 its channel, leaving a dry, sandy margin on 
 each side. At another time, or under other 
 circumstances, Captain Tyndale might not 
 have been so deliberate in his movements, 
 might not have walked until he could make 
 an easy step from the grassy bank to the 
 creek-bottom. But why should he be in haste 
 now ? One glance had told him that all earth- 
 ly effort would be vain that Death had set 
 his inexorable seal on the victim he had 
 chosen ! So he walked lingeringly along 
 the bank, slowly stepped from the soft 
 grass to the barren sand, and, turning, went 
 back toward the bridge, almost immediate- 
 ly beneath which the body of Arthur was 
 lying. 
 
 For the third time Max paused, when he 
 stood beside the body for the third time a 
 sense of suffocating emotion seized him as he 
 looked on the dead presence that in life had 
 been so familiar to his eye as he began at 
 
 last to realize the strange, incomprehensible 
 truth that Arthur was dead. How poor, aud 
 petty, and unworthy of remembrance, seemed 
 now the clouds that had come between them 
 of late ! how entirely his thoughts went back 
 to the better days Of that cordial, almost 
 brother-like intercourse and affection which 
 had existed between them for years. A great 
 pain was at his heart a great dimness (not 
 of tears, for his eyes were hot and dry) was 
 over his vision. He bent over and took one 
 of the cold hands in his own. The touch 
 acted like an arousing shock to him. He 
 shuddered ; he let the hand gently fall from 
 his hold ; he felt that he must control him- 
 self. 
 
 " This won't do ! " he muttered, as he 
 pushed the hair back from his forehead, 
 throwing off his hat unheedingly in the act. 
 And at that moment an exclamation from a 
 human voice attracted his attention. Ho 
 looked up, and saw the pale, horror-stricken 
 face of Mr. Middleton, leaning over the bridge 
 aTaove. 
 
 " Good God ! Tyndale, what is the mean- 
 ing of this ? " 
 
 " God only knows ! " Max answered, with 
 more literal meaning than is often put into 
 those trite words. Truly, and indeed in every 
 sense, God and God alone knew what was the 
 meaning of the scene which the midnight had 
 witnessed here. But that which was merely 
 an exclamation, suggested to him suddenly 
 what he had not thought of before the ques- 
 tion of how Arthur had died. 
 
 " Come down here," he said to Mr. Mid- 
 dleton; and the latter, looking a little be- 
 wildered and doubtful as to how he could get 
 down, Max briefly directed him the way he 
 had come himself. Partly the appearance of 
 Mr. Middleton on the scene, and partly the 
 train of thought which his involuntary cry 
 had awakened, at once restored him to his 
 characteristic composure of mind and man- 
 ner. There was something to be done and 
 the soldier was ready to do it. 
 
 When Mr. Middleton came to his side, 
 they stooped down beside the body and pro- 
 ceeded to examine it as well as it was pos- 
 sible to do without infringing the law which 
 forbids the touching the body of one found 
 dead until it has been inspected by a jury of 
 inquest. 
 
 Almost as graceful in death as he had 
 been in life, Arthur lay in what looked an
 
 A PROBABLE MURDER. 
 
 171 
 
 easy atiitude, half on his side, his shoulder 
 supported against a large, flat stone, his head 
 falling back so that the face was fully ex- 
 posed to view. His right hand the one 
 Max had grasped a few minutes before 
 rested carelessly beside him on the sand, 
 palm downward, with loosely-curved fingers, 
 like that of one sleeping; the left arm was 
 bent, and half doubled under the reclining 
 form. The expression of the face or, more 
 properly speaking, its want of expression 
 was that of deep, dreamless slumber. Not 
 the slightest shade or contraction marred the 
 beauty of the white forehead and pale-tinted 
 bat clearly -penciled brows; there was no 
 hollowness under the eyes, where the long 
 lashes swept the cheek, veiling from sight 
 that which "thought shrinks from;" the 
 straight, chiseled nose had no sharpness 
 about its lines, and the well-cut lips were 
 closed naturally under the silky waves of the 
 blond mustache. 
 
 At first they could see no signs of vio- 
 lence, except that the dress was slightly dis- 
 arranged about the chest and throat, but a 
 moment's scrutiny showed signs of blood on 
 the left side of the head. Max gently put 
 aside the waves of fair hair, and then they 
 perceived a deep, gaping wound high up on 
 the left temple the death-wound, as they 
 recognized at a glance. When he saw this, 
 the young man thought again of the shot he 
 had heard the night before, but the shape 
 and general character of the ragged incision 
 forbade even a momentary suspicion that it 
 could have been caused by a pistol-ball. It 
 looked rather as if made by some rough, 
 three-cornered instrument, and convinced the 
 two men at once that the death had not been 
 caused by accident, but was the work of de- 
 liberate design in plain words, a murder. 
 As the wound looked as if it must have bled 
 profusely, they directed their attention to 
 the ground to see if they could find further 
 traces, and were soon startled by a new dis- 
 covery. A few paces from where the body 
 lay was a spot which had evidently been a 
 pool of blood. Had been a pool of blood it 
 having trickled in a small stream down to 
 the water, no doubt, filtering gradually 
 through the damp sand, also, as it went, 
 leaving only a red stain, which, however, 
 could not be mistaken. But it was not this 
 sanguinary sign which struck them most. 
 Just beside it was a small, sharp stone, the 
 
 shape of which seemed to both of them iden- 
 tical with that of the wound. On examina- 
 tion, they found that it was merely the ex- 
 posed point of a larger stone embedded im- 
 movably in the sand a point a good deal 
 like an Indian arrow-head, and not much 
 larger. In fact, it did not protrude more than 
 an inch above the ground ; but it was flint 
 hard as steel and sharp as glass. While 
 they regarded it with momently - increasing 
 conviction as to its instrumentality in the 
 death of Arthur, their uncertainty was set at 
 rest by another discovery. Exactly on a line 
 with the stone for about the length of a man's 
 body there was a faint, but perfectly percep- 
 tible indentation on the sand. They looked 
 at it for an instant, and then Mr. Middleton 
 spoke. 
 
 " It is plain enough, so far as the mere cir- 
 cumstance of his death is concerned," he 
 said, in that hushed tone to which the voice 
 involuntarily attunes itself in the presence 
 of the great destroyer. " He must have been 
 waylaid and attacked as he went home from 
 my house last night. There was a struggle, 
 evidently " he pointed to the loosened cravat 
 and other appearances about the upper part 
 of the dress, which could only have resulted 
 from a personal conflict " and he has been 
 hurled violently down, his head striking against 
 that stone. But I don't understand why he 
 should be here how he got here " 
 
 He paused, looking vaguely round ; and, 
 as by a common impulse, he and Captain 
 Tyndale rose to their feet, and began to be- 
 stow the same scrutiny on the locale around 
 which they had just given to the body it- 
 self. 
 
 It would have been hard to find a lovelier 
 spot than this, which was to be evermore a 
 picture, in the memory of both of them, as a 
 scene of horror, a background of mocking 
 beauty to the ghastly central object before 
 them. The bridge, a rustic, picturesque struct- 
 ure of wood, had been thrown over the creek 
 at the point where the stream was narrowest 
 and the banks highest ; and almost imme- 
 diately beneath its span they now stood. The 
 banks rose, perpendicular as the walls of a 
 chamber, to at least ten feet above them on 
 each siile, for some distance both above and 
 below the bri Jge ; and, as the stream made a 
 sudden horseshoe bend just here, they were 
 literally shut in to the sight between walls 
 of most varied and luxuriant verdure shrubs,
 
 172 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 rnoss, clinging vines, and even trees that bent 
 their limbs over from above, or shot up their 
 stems from the rich, loamy deposit just at 
 the verge of the water. The blue sky, with 
 a few fleecy clouds floating like pearly mists 
 in its liquid depths, was overhead ; the sun- 
 shine flickered down through the spreading 
 boughs that fringed the bank on its eastern 
 side, throwing here a gleam, there a broad 
 sheet, of brightest gold over the clear, shal- 
 low water that flowed noisily by, and upon 
 the dry creek-bed on which was stretched the 
 slender, graceful figure of the dead man. 
 
 The first thing which at the same moment 
 attracted the attention of the two gentlemen 
 was the crushed and broken appearance of 
 the shrubs on the bank, at one point a few 
 paces lower down the stream than the spot 
 where the body lay. Several bushes had been 
 uptorn, and now hung to their native earth by 
 the fibres of their roots alone, while a larger 
 one a small tree, in fact, it was had only suf- 
 fered in the breaking of some of its branches. 
 There were signs, too, on near investigation, 
 of a man's feet having been dug into the soil 
 at intervals, in a slanting direction, along the 
 sheer, perpendicular face of the bank making 
 it plain that somebody had clambered down 
 by clinging to the thick, tough growth with 
 which it was clothed. 
 
 " Could it have been Arthur himself ? " 
 was the thought which occurred to both, and 
 which was expressed in the glance they ex- 
 changed. 
 
 Again, as with one thought, they turned 
 to ascertain this by examining his boots, 
 which would necessarily retain traces of the 
 moist earth, if it had been he. A glance 
 satisfied them that it was not. Both his 
 boots and trousers were immaculate of earth- 
 stain or speck of any kind, as when he had 
 entered Mrs. Middleton's drawing-room the 
 evening before. 
 
 " Strange ! " said Mr. Middleton. " There 
 was a struggle, unquestionably." 
 
 " Unquestionably," assented Max ; " and 
 it is equally unquestionable that somebody 
 has scrambled down the bank here, and that 
 it was not himself." 
 
 " Yes. What is most unaccountable to 
 me, though, is how he got here, what he was 
 doing down here, if the murderer came down 
 after him. And, then, that mark there is 
 certainly the print of his body, to say noth- 
 ing of the wound : yet he lies in a position 
 
 which shows he has been moved since he 
 fell." Then, with a fresh burst of horror ; 
 "Great Heavens! to think of it! Arthur 
 Tyndale murdered ! One of the last men in 
 the world that I should have expected to see 
 meet such a fate ! And here, right at his 
 own door, almost in sight of my house! 
 Good Heavens ! I can scarcely believe the 
 evidence of my own senses ! What could 
 have been the object of such a murder ? Can 
 you imagine ? Oh ! " as a sudden thought 
 struck him " it may have been a robbery as 
 well as a murder. No ! " (after ascertaining 
 that neither watch nor purse was missing). 
 " There seems co clew to the mystery. 
 Well " raising himself with a short but 
 deep and audible sigh " well, we must see 
 about" 
 
 "Stop!" said Max. "We will examine 
 the ground above there. Stay here, Lewis," 
 he added, turning to the boy, who had fol- 
 lowed Mr. Middleton closely, and now stood 
 near in open-mouthed wonder, " while we go 
 up on the bridge." 
 
 He turned and led the way rapidly down 
 the bed of the stream, until he came to a 
 point where he had no difficulty in mounting 
 the bank by the aid of the roots and trunk 
 of a small, gnarled beech-tree ; but Mr. Mid- 
 dleton, who was neither so active in move- 
 ment nor so long of leg as himself, kept on 
 to the place they had both passed over in 
 coming, a few minutes before, and conse- 
 quently he was considerably behind Max 
 when the latter, after mounting the acclivi- 
 ty, stopped at the entrance of the bridge to 
 wait for him. While he came puffing and 
 blowing up the steep ascent, Max walked upon 
 the bridge, and looked closely at the floor, 
 especially at that part just above the spot 
 where the body lay. As he looked, he shook 
 his head. There were no signs of a struggle 
 having taken place, and, if such a thing had 
 been, the evidences must have appeared, since 
 a thick coating of dust covered the boards, 
 and any unusual movement upon it would 
 have left unmistakable traces. The young 
 man turned, and, passing outside the railing, 
 began to direct his scrutiny to the green- 
 sward which stretched along the edge of the 
 bank. He had scarcely turned the corner, so 
 to speak, of the railing it should be re- 
 marked that this railing, as a matter of pre- 
 caution on account of the height of the bank, 
 was run out for a considerable distance from
 
 A BEARER OF BAD NEWS. 
 
 173 
 
 the edge of the stream upon the land when 
 a sudden exclamation from him quickened 
 the pace of Mr. Middleton, who was by this 
 time but a few yards off. Hastening forward, 
 that gentleman echoed the exclamation with 
 emphasis, as he gazed down upon the crushed 
 and trampled turf to which Max's hand point- 
 ed. Here the struggle had been, it was plain, 
 a haud-to-hand struggle, for the grass, which 
 wag high and luxuriant, bore the print of 
 trampling feet that had moved in a very small 
 space, and obviously irregular manner, along 
 the very edge of the bank, from which a frag- 
 ment of turf had been broken in one place. 
 Except on this spot, there wore no marks of 
 footsteps in any direction. 
 
 " So ! there is no question but that he 
 was waylaid, as I have said," observed Mr. 
 Middleton " and the body must have been 
 thrown from here, instead of off the bridge, 
 as we supposed." He went close to the mar- 
 gin of the bank, looked cautiously over, and 
 was about to speak, when another exclama- 
 tion this time it was almost a cry from his 
 companion, startled him so that he nearly 
 lost his balance, and was for an instant in 
 danger of going head-foremost the way he 
 had just expressed his belief that Arthur Tyn- 
 dale had gone. Recovering his equilibrium, 
 he looked round to see what had excited Max 
 so greatly looked just in time to see the lat- 
 ter start forward, stoop, and seize some ob- 
 ject that lay half concealed beneath the 
 sweeping foliage of a small shrub near by. 
 A gleam of sunshine chanced to fall just upon 
 the place, and lighted the plate of burnished 
 metal which had caught Max's eye by its glit- 
 ter. 
 
 " "What is it ? " said Mr. Middleton, eagerly. 
 
 "A pistol, you see," was the reply; and 
 the young man held it up to view. " His own 
 pistol, as I perceived in an instant here is 
 his name." He pointed to the silver plate on 
 which the name was engraven, and then went 
 on in a tone of deep agitation : " Great God ! 
 if I had but gone when I started to go, last 
 night when I heard that shot I might per- 
 haps have prevented this ! But " 
 
 He stopped short remembering why he 
 had not gone, and, even at that moment, 
 conscious that he must be careful what he 
 said lest he should compromise Norah. 
 
 " Heard a shot !" repeated Mr. Middicton. 
 " Is it possible you heard a shot last night ? 
 When ? " 
 
 " Some time between eleven and twelve 
 o'clock. I was in your grounds " 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " broke in Mr. Middle- 
 ton, to whose mind, by some association with 
 the word " grounds," the recollection of Les- 
 lie at this instant occurred for the first time 
 since he had come upon the scene of the 
 tragedy " Good Heavens, Tyndale ! I had 
 forgotten Leslie ! Poor child ! " a sudden 
 moisture came into his eyes, and his voice 
 sounded husky. " I must return home im- 
 mediately " he went on, hurriedly " God 
 forbid that such news should reach her from 
 the tattle of servants, or without preparation ! 
 Meanwhile, the body cannot be moved until 
 the jury has seen it." 
 
 " Of course not," said Max. " But I will 
 send Lewis to Strafford to have every thing 
 prepared, so that it can be moved as soon as 
 possible. And about the jury " 
 
 " I'll dispatch a messenger to the coroner 
 at once and, as soon as I have told my wife, 
 I will join you again. You remain here, I 
 suppose? " 
 
 " Yes," said Max. 
 
 " Fortunately," said Mr. Middleton, " this 
 is a very cool, shady place and I hope we 
 may get the inquest over in the course of the 
 morning. Now, I'll go." 
 
 He held out his hand ; the two exchanged 
 that nervous grasp which is often more ex- 
 pressive of strong feeling than many words 
 could be ; and then he turned and strode with 
 the vigor of a young man across the bridge 
 toward Rosland while the other once more 
 descended to where he had left the servant, 
 as a watcher beside the dead. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 " Love and be loved ! yet know love's holiest 
 
 deeps 
 Few sound while living ! when the loved one 
 
 sleep?. 
 That last, strange sleep, beneath the mournful 
 
 sod, 
 
 Then Memory wakes, like some remorseful god, 
 And all the golden past we scarce did prize, 
 Subtly revives, with light of tender eyes." 
 
 As Mr. Middleton took his way to Ros- 
 land, it would be difficult to describe the 
 tumult in which his mind was plunged. The 
 first impression of the shock having, in a 
 measure, subsided, he was able to face it 
 more clearly, able to understand all that it
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 involved, and all that must flow from it es- 
 pecially with regard to Leslie. How was it 
 possible to tell her that the lover from whom 
 she had parted a few hours before in the flush 
 of youth and health, was now lying dead 
 foully murdered ? How would she bear such 
 an overwhelming blow ? It was natural, per- 
 haps, that this consideration should have 
 weighed with him even more than pity for 
 the unfortunate young man who had been 
 burled so abruptly out of a life which every 
 gift of Fortune conspired to render one of 
 exceptional brightness. The mystery over- 
 hanging his fate made it doubly tragical ; but 
 then that fate was accomplished, the worst 
 was over and done, while Leslie who could 
 foresee what effect such a shock might have 
 upon her future life ? This was what Mr. Mid- 
 dleton thought, as he walked forward, his 
 steps unconsciously growing slower as he ap- 
 proached the house, his heart quaking as the 
 veriest coward's who ever served in military 
 ranks might have quaked when the order to 
 charge a battery was given. A battery ! Mild- 
 est of civilians though he was, Mr. Middleton 
 would have faced ten batteries just then, in 
 preference to bearing the news which he car- 
 ried within the walls of Rosland. As he 
 crossed the lawn, he glanced round at the 
 scattered mallets and croquet-hoops. " Great 
 Heavens ! he was here last night ! " he said to 
 himself. Here last night, and now where? 
 When he entered the hall, the first person 
 whom he met, much to his surprise, was his 
 wife. Disturbed by the message which had 
 come for him, and vaguely uneasy concerning 
 what it might portend, Mrs. Middleton had 
 risen, early though it was, and weary as she 
 might well have been from the dissipation of 
 the night before. " Something is the mat- 
 ter!" she thought; and, since she was not 
 one of the women who are ready to think 
 this on all occasions, her instinct may have 
 counted for something. It is at least certain 
 that she did not disturb any one else with her 
 apprehensions and forebodings. The whole 
 house was wrapped in its early morning still- 
 ness as she sat in the hall, fresh and cool, and 
 pleasant to look upon as ever, trying to di- 
 vert her mind with a newspaper which she 
 had taken up, but in reality seeing not one 
 of the sentences on which her eyes rested, 
 when her husband, with a face so pale that 
 it scarcely bore any resemblance to his own, 
 walked in upon her. 
 
 I This face in itself would have been enough 
 to frighten any nervous woman into a scream, 
 but Mrs. Middleton, fortunately for the peace 
 of the household, rarely screamed. As she 
 glanced up, holding her gold -rimmed eye- 
 glass still before her eyes, she uttered a faint 
 cry of surprised alarm, but that was all. The 
 eye-glass fell with a click she rose to her 
 feet : 
 
 " George ! " she said " George ! for 
 Heaven's sake, what is the matter ? " 
 
 Then George, seeing that his face had be- 
 trayed him, and, being a sufficiently sensible 
 man to know that bad news is only made 
 worse by any attempt to " break it," took her 
 j trembling hands into his own, and answered 
 plainly : 
 
 " Something so terrible, Mildred, that God 
 only knows how that poor child up-stairs is 
 to bear it. Arthur Tyndale is dead ! " 
 
 " Arthur Tyndale dead ! " she repeated, 
 with a gasp her eyes opening wide and star- 
 tled, her face turning so white that he passed 
 his arm quickly around her. " George, do 
 you know what you are saying ? How how 
 can Arthur Tyndale be dead ? " 
 
 "He has been murdered, I fear," said 
 Mr. Middleton, reluctantly. " He was found 
 dead down in the creek-bottom by his cousin, 
 who sent for me. There are plain signs of 
 violence, and courage, Mildred ! I thought 
 it best to tell you the truth at once you, 
 who arc not like other women but try (o 
 bear up for poor Leslie's sake ! " 
 
 The adjuration was necessary, for she had 
 buried her face on his shoulder, shuddering 
 and almost convulsed. Dead ( murdered! 
 It would have been awful enough if he had 
 been the most ordinary of the guests who 
 had been with her the evening before; but 
 the man who for months had been as intimate 
 in her house as if he had been a son of it, 
 the man whom Leslie was to marry those 
 who have never passed through such a shock 
 can ill conceive the overmastering horror of 
 it. At the sound of Leslie's name, however, 
 she burst suddenly into passionate tears. 
 
 " my poor Leslie ! my poor darling ! " 
 she cried. " George, George, how will she 
 bear it ! " 
 
 " It is you who must help her to bear it," 
 said Mr. Middleton, leading her into the sit- 
 ting-room and closing the door. The hall was 
 too open and public a place for such a scene 
 as this for such a story as he had to tell.
 
 A WEARY NIGHT. 
 
 175 
 
 As be told all that be knew, and all that 
 Max and himself had together conjectured, it 
 was not strange that her sense of the awful 
 nature of the tragedy deepened many fold. 
 It seemed something too appalling for grief, 
 according to the ordinary meaning of that 
 term ; it was something which dwarfed all the 
 conventional words in which we speak, all 
 tiie conventional thoughts we think. Some- 
 times we are tempted to wonder if our power 
 of feeling is as limited as our power of ex- 
 pression. It almost seems so : at least it is 
 certain that a great shock tends as inevitably 
 to deaden the sensations and throw the mind 
 into chaos, as to bewilder the tongue and de- 
 prive us of words. Into something of chaos 
 Mrs. Middleton's mind was thrown now, only 
 dominating all other thoughts was the thought 
 of Leslie, and the necessity the inexorable, 
 cruel necessity of telling her the terrible 
 news. From this necessity she shrank, as 
 the weakest woman alive might have done. 
 
 "I cannot tell her!" she cried. "0 
 George, I cannot ! It will kill her ! " 
 
 " The people whom such things kill are 
 weaker people, mentally and physically, than 
 Leslie," answered Mr. Middleton, who had by 
 this time regained something of his usual 
 manner. " It will be a blow which may leave 
 its mark on her till she dies, but I do not 
 think it will kill her. God knows I would 
 do any thing on earth to spare her," he said, 
 walking hurriedly to and fro ; " but there is 
 nothing to be done. She must bear it; and 
 what we are obliged to endure, Mildred, we 
 can endure. You know that." 
 
 " But this is so fearful, so sudden ! And, 
 then, the doubt the horrible doubt George, 
 what am I to tell her ? " 
 
 " The truth. Any thing else, in such a 
 case, is gratuitous cruelty, not kindness." 
 
 " I cannot ! " said she, shuddering. " It 
 is too much to ask of me. Oh, to think that 
 she is unconscious now ! My poor darling ! 
 God help her ! " 
 
 While the woman who had been a mother 
 to her was thus weeping and unnerved below, 
 Leslie, dry-eyed and full of misery misery 
 which she was too proud to vent in sigh or 
 sob had risen, long before her usual hour, 
 from a sleepless couch. It chanced that, in 
 her healthy, happy youth, she had never en- 
 dured such a thing before as a sleepless night 
 a night in which the mind persistently re- 
 fused to allow the body to rest and the sen- 
 
 sations which accompany such a vigil were 
 all new to her. She had hitherto entered so 
 little upon the heritage of grief and pain, 
 common to all the children of earth, that she 
 had never before risen with weary lassitude 
 pervading every limb, with a sick heart and 
 an aching head, with a mouth parched as if 
 from fever, with eyes that burned, and lids 
 that felt tense and strained as they stretched 
 across them. " Was ever sorrow like unto 
 my sorrow ? Was ever desolation like unto 
 mine ? " had been the cry of her soul during 
 all the long hours of that weary night. Weep ? 
 She would have scorned herself if she had 
 felt one tear rise to her eyes. What had she 
 to weep for ? For having poured out her love 
 and trust like water on barren ground ? for 
 having given every thing, and received noth- 
 ing ? for having been deceived from first to 
 last ? These were not things for which to 
 weep. " If he had died," she said to herself 
 more than once, with a low moan, " it would 
 have been so different ! " Such a thought 
 comes often hand-in-hand with the keen sting 
 of betrayal, and it was not singular, there- 
 fore, that it should have come to Leslie ; but 
 if she could have known on what the moon 
 was looking down at that very moment ! 
 
 No instinct came to warn her, however, as 
 she lay gazing out on the summer night, or 
 the fresh glory of the summer dawn, measur- 
 ing the full height and depth and length and 
 breadth of her desolation, as the hours went 
 by. She was not melodramatic or passionate 
 in her grief; she did not think that life was, 
 in any sense, over for her. On the contrary, 
 she knew better ; she knew that she must rise 
 with the morning to face the necessities of 
 her position, to bear her burden bravely, to 
 let no one even suspect how deep the sting 
 had pierced. A few women only a few 
 are capable of doing this ; and Leslie was one 
 of them. There was none of the stuff of a 
 lovesick maiden in her. She could have died 
 sooner than said to the world, in word, look, 
 or tone, " I have been disappointed and be- 
 trayed ! " If she had been tried by the or- 
 deal which she anticipated, there is no ques- 
 tion but that her courage would have matched 
 her endurance, no question but that victory 
 would have come to her in the end, as it al- 
 ways comes to the brave of heart, and the 
 strong of purpose. 
 
 But over this fiery ordeal she had not to 
 pass. As she stood before her mirror, Ian-
 
 176 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 guidly combing out her soft, brown hair, and 
 trying to think when and how she had better 
 tell Arthur that all was known to her, a low, 
 hesitating knock sounded on her door a 
 knock which seemed to echo the palpitations 
 of the heart behind it. She started, and 
 turned round. Perhaps it was her over- 
 wrought frame of mind which filled her in- 
 stantly with an instinct of ill. At least, it is 
 certain that she felt it. Was it Mrs. Sand- 
 ford again ? she wondered. 
 
 " Come in," she said, coldly ; and, when 
 the door opened, it was not Mrs. Sandford, but 
 Mrs. Middleton, who stood on the threshold. 
 
 Mrs. Middleton, with the news she had 
 come to tell as clearly printed on her face as 
 it had been on her husband's when he en- 
 tered the hall ! One glance at that face Les- 
 lie gave ; then she clutched the back of the 
 nearest chair for a support the room reeled 
 around, her limbs trembled under her, her 
 tongue seemed paralyzed. She could not 
 speak ; she could only wonder what had hap- 
 pened what could possibly have occurred 
 to make her aunt look like that. 
 
 As for Mrs. Middleton, she felt as if all 
 power of language deserted her all knowl- 
 edge or judgment how to act. What to do, 
 what to say, in presence of that white, im- 
 ploring yet unconscious face, she did not 
 know. For an awful minute she stood silent. 
 Then she did the best as well as the simplest 
 thing ; she came forward, and took the girl in 
 her arms. 
 
 " Leslie ! Leslie ! my poor darling ! " 
 she cried, and then fell to weeping so sorely 
 that Leslie felt at once that only one calamity, 
 out of all the calamities of earth, could have 
 befallen her. 
 
 "What is it, auntie?" she asked, quiver- 
 ingly, regaining her voice at length. " Is it 
 about Arthur ? Has any thing happened to 
 him ? Whatever it is, tell me at once ! I 
 can bear any thing better than this." 
 
 But the story was too terrible to be told 
 at once Mrs. Middleton retained that much 
 judgment, at least and it was only by de- 
 grees that the horror-stricken girl heard her 
 lover's fate. Only by degrees she learned 
 that there was no need now to think of him 
 bitterly, no need now to consider how to give 
 him back his pledge with sufficient scorn ! 
 The passions of earth and the things of time 
 were all over for him to whom the great sanc- 
 tification of death had come. 
 
 And so it was that the love which life 
 had taken from Leslie, death gave to her. In 
 that bitter hour, pride sank down and died 
 utterly ; she did not ask any longer whether 
 he had ever really loved her ; she did not re- 
 member the sting or the indignity of his de- 
 ception. The last few troubled days of 
 doubt, the last terrible night of certainty, 
 passed from her recollection as entirely as if 
 they had never been. The majesty of her 
 own love rose and asserted itself. She might 
 have crushed and stifled it, while life and all 
 life's possibilities of happiness were his ; but 
 now in that great agony of remorseful love, 
 of tenderness washing out all stain which 
 death awakens it came back like a flood 
 upon her soul. . The golden hero of her 
 youth, the prince whose kiss had first waked 
 her heart from its maiden trance, was hers 
 again. No power of earth could take him 
 from her now. Worthy or unworthy ? Who 
 could ask such a question ? When we enter 
 Death's mighty treasure-house, * it is with 
 bared head and reverent breath. The touch, 
 which is like a sacrament, has been pressed 
 upon our gold, and we do not stop to cavil or 
 to ask how much alloy it may contain. 
 
 Diverse as the faces and the natures of 
 men, are the ways in which grief displays it- 
 self. Who has not seen the volatile tempera- 
 ment stunned into strange quietness, or the 
 quiet temperament rise into the madness of 
 passionate excitement? Rarely do people 
 " take things " as we expect them to do. 
 Leslie did not take this great shock as her 
 aunt had feared that she might. When she 
 mastered the truth at last, she slipped out of 
 the arms which encircled her, and, with one 
 cry of agony beyond expression, sank upon 
 her knees. " Dead ! " she repeated, again 
 and again and then she would break into 
 low, shivering moans. That was all. Pas- 
 sion, despair, insensibility none of these 
 things came. Perhaps, though her aunt knew 
 it not, she had already gone through too 
 much for any violent excess of emotion. In 
 a measure, at least, she was stunned. Her 
 agony of the night had been so intense that 
 she might well have uttered Thekla's words 
 when the bearer of evil tidings entered : 
 
 " The worst is eaid already : I can hear 
 Nothing of deeper anguish I " 
 
 * " Death is the great trensure-house of love." 
 LOBD LTTTON.
 
 NORAH'S ASTONISHMENT. 
 
 177 
 
 Meanwhile, the news spread through the 
 household with the subtile rapidity of an elec- 
 tric flash. That something of an unusual na- 
 ture had occurred, all the servants were very 
 well able to surmise when Mr. Middleton was 
 summoned away by an agitated and mysteri- 
 ous messenger ; when Mrs. Middleton rose at 
 an hour unprecedented in the experience of 
 those who had served her for years ; when one 
 servant reported that he had met his master 
 on the lawn with a face " like death," and 
 another that she had seen her mistress going 
 up-stairs " crying as if she would break her 
 heart." But, with all this, they were unpre- 
 pared for the announcement which the ser- 
 vant whom Mr. Middleton summoned to take 
 his message to the coroner made when he 
 came forth. " Good Lord, Maria, Mr. Tyn- 
 dale's been murdered ! " he said, with a dis- 
 mayed and yet an important face, to Leslie's 
 maid, whom he met first. " Master says he's 
 been found a-lyin' dead down in the creek ! " 
 
 Then it was that, like lightning, the news 
 diffused itself through the house. Mrs. Sand- 
 ford's maid flew with the intelligence to her 
 mistress. Matia, aware that Mrs. Middleton 
 was with Leslie, bethought herself of Miss 
 Desmond, and of the immediate necessity of 
 enlightening that young lady. Thus it came 
 to pass that, five minutes later, Norah was 
 waked from her morning sleep by an excited 
 figure at her bedside a figure wringing its 
 hands wildly, and announcing, without pref- 
 ace or preparation, that Arthur Tyndale had 
 been murdered. 
 
 " What ! " she cried, springing up in bed 
 wide awake in an instant, startled, incredu- 
 lous, doubting her own ears. "What is it 
 you say ? Who has been murdered ? " 
 
 " Mr. Arthur Tyndale, miss ! " answered 
 Maria, with something between a sob and a 
 groan in her throat. She was as near hys- 
 terics as it was possible for a young person 
 of the raving-distracted kind to be ; but, for 
 all that, it cannot be denied that a certain 
 satisfaction pervaded her breast at this mo- 
 ment. Who could have been insensible to 
 the gratification of being the first to announce 
 such an unexampled item of intelligence ? 
 
 " Arthur Tyndale ! " repeated Norah. For 
 a minute she could do nothing but stare at 
 the speaker with distended eyes amazement, 
 horror, and incredulity, precluding all power 
 of further speech. Then she suddenly sprang 
 to her feet, extended her hands, and, taking 
 
 12 
 
 the maid by the shoulder, gave her a quick 
 shake. 
 
 u Have you lost your senses, that you 
 come to me with such an absurd story as 
 this ? " she cried, sharply. " You know it 
 cannot be true ! " 
 
 .The tone and the shake together were re- 
 markably efficacious in dispelling most of the 
 alarming symptoms of hysterics. 
 
 " It is as true as can be ! " said Maria, 
 retreating a step. " I I thought you'd like 
 to know, miss. Master told Jim himself 
 and Jim told me. Mr. Tyndale's been found 
 murdered down at the creek." 
 
 " Murdered ! do you mean that he is 
 dead? " cried Norah. 
 
 It was a very stupid question ; but people 
 ask stupid questions at such times as these. 
 The most brilliant of us are not generally 
 brilliant in the face of an overwhelming shock, 
 and to Norah, no more than to the rest of 
 the household, was the immediate realization 
 of such an appalling fact possible. 
 
 " La, yes, to be sure, miss," answered Ma- 
 ria, opening her eyes very wide indeed. " At 
 least, that's what Jim said murdered! Of 
 course, when a gentleman's murdered, he's 
 dead, miss." 
 
 "Murdered! My God! Can it be possi- 
 ble ? " said Norah. She put her hands to her 
 head for a moment. Her brain seemed reel- 
 ing. It would be hard to enumerate all that 
 flashed upon her at that instant. Arthur, 
 Max, Leslie, the events of yesterday and of 
 last night much which she could not con- 
 nect came to her, as the events of his past 
 life are said to come to a dying man. She 
 was silent scarcely a minute, but Maria thought 
 she had never seen a face so changed as hers 
 was when she looked up. "Does Mr. Middle- 
 ton know or suspect who committed the mur- 
 der?" she asked a sharp, hard, metallic 
 ring in her usually rich voice. 
 
 " Not as I knows of, miss," answered Ma- 
 ria, reluctantly. It was hard to be forced to 
 confess ignorance on such an important point 
 as this. 
 
 "And Leslie do you know whether she 
 has heard it ? " 
 
 "Mistis* is in her room with her now," 
 said the girl, with bated breath. Even she 
 felt what those words implied. 
 
 " What ! " cried Norah, " is it so certain 
 as that ? Great Heaven, girl ! do you mean to 
 tell me that there is no doubt?"
 
 178 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 "I don't think there's any doubt, miss," 
 answered Maria awed and almost frightened 
 by the passionate vehemence of the appeal 
 " master's sent Jim for the kurroner." 
 
 " The kurroner, miss the man that always 
 comes and sits on people when they're found 
 dead." 
 
 "And, since he has been sent for, you 
 think it is certain that Mr. Tyndale is dead ? " 
 
 "I'm sure of that, anyhow," was the an- 
 swer, delivered with perfect faith, " for master 
 told Jim." 
 
 " My God ! what does it mean ? " said No- 
 rah, under her breath. Then she looked up, 
 imperious and haughty as ever. " You can 
 go!" she said adding, impatiently, as the 
 girl stood still, scarcely understanding her, 
 "don't you hear? Your news is told you 
 can go ! " 
 
 After the indignant Maria had retired, the 
 first thing Norah did was to walk across the 
 room. It was a purely involuntary movement, 
 born of that impulse to act which was inher- 
 ent in her temperament. Any thing to her 
 was better, was more possible, than passive 
 endurance. Any bodily effort was preferable 
 to sitting still to be rent by thoughts like 
 vultures. " Who can think of bearing, while 
 there is any thing to do?" she often said. 
 And, even when there was nothing to do as 
 in the present case the instinct and longing 
 of her nature was so much for action, that 
 she rushed into movement and speech as 
 other women rush into hysterics and tears. 
 Thrilled to the core, as she was, by the ter- 
 rible news she had heard, the energy of her 
 character asserted itself. " What can I do ? " 
 was her first thought. As yet her mind re- 
 fused to credit the fact which had been forced 
 upon it. The idea that Arthur could be dead 
 Arthur, concerning whom she had sat, till 
 long past midnight, talking to Leslie seemed 
 utterly impossible, too wildly improbable to 
 be true! 
 
 But, even as she thought this, a sudden 
 recollection of the shot which she had heard 
 the night before came back to her, as it had 
 come back to Max. That was grim evidence 
 which could not be set aside. She stopped 
 short, her head thrown back, her hands inter- 
 laced, her whole attitude suggestive of one 
 drawn up short by the curb of some unex- 
 pected thought. What did it mean? That 
 was what she. asked herself with quickening 
 
 breath. If the report which she heard she, 
 the woman who loved him once had been 
 Arthur's death-shot, from what hand had it 
 come? What midnight assassin could possi- 
 bly have lain in wait for him ? And he had 
 not Max said that he had left him at Strafford ? 
 What, then, was he doing in, or near, the 
 Rosland grounds? Questions, these, which 
 she was unable to answer ; but they seemed 
 to fire her with renewed energy, even while 
 she felt an unutterable faint sickness in every 
 fibre. It was characteristic of the woman 
 that she turned suddenly, and began to dress 
 with impetuous haste. " I must see Mr. Mid- 
 dleton ! " she said to herself. " I must know 
 all that has happened ! " 
 
 But, with all her haste, she found, when 
 she went down, that Mr. Middleton had gone 
 back, as he had promised, to join Captain 
 Tyndale. Mrs. Middleton was still with Les- 
 lie, and, of course, there was no one else to 
 whom she could apply. "Where is Mr. Carl 
 Middleton ? " she asked, before she remem- 
 bered that he had left the night before, and 
 Robert stared a little as he answered to that 
 effect. 
 
 There was nothing to be done, therefore, 
 but to pace the hall to and fro, and try to 
 realize that which must certainly be true, 
 since a pall seemed to overhang the house, 
 since the very servants came and went aim- 
 lessly with terror-stricken, curious faces, and 
 the whole household machinery was plainly in 
 that interesting bouleversemcnt which a domes- 
 tic calamity always causes. Not many min- 
 utes had she been here, however minutes 
 measured off as methodically by the old-fash- 
 ioned English clock as if time had not ceased 
 forever for one soul when a figure becoming- 
 ly arrayed in a blue dressing-gown, a figure 
 which had not allowed its feelings to run away 
 with it to the extent of forgetting its chignon, 
 swept down the staircase and rushed to her. 
 
 " Good Heavens, Miss Desmond ! " cried 
 Mrs. Sandford, with more alarming signs of 
 hysterics than even Maria had displayed. " Is 
 it true, this awful, awful news ? " 
 
 " I am afraid it is true that Mr. Tyndale is 
 dead," Norah answered and, feeling the curi- 
 osity of the blue eyes bent on her, pride 
 steadied her voice and hardened her face into 
 an indifference as great as if she had epoken 
 of some chance acquaintance of the day be- 
 fore " whether or not he has been murdered, 
 I do not know."
 
 MRS. SANDFORD'S CURIOSITY AND MALICE. 
 
 179 
 
 "But how can be be dead?" cried Mrs. 
 Sandford, " and oh, who could have murdered 
 him? I thought /should faint when Ellen 
 rushed upon me with the news ! I told her 
 it could not be true ! I can't believe it ! Why, 
 he was here last night! Miss Desmond" 
 (with an assurance of tone and manner which 
 Norah felt to be absolutely insolent), " I am 
 confident that you know whether or not it is 
 so!" 
 
 " I know nothing about it ! '' Norah an- 
 swered. She had neither time nor inclination 
 to waste words on this woman. She turned 
 from her with impatient disdain, and began 
 her sentinel walk again. What had happened ? 
 What was going on at Strafford ? What had 
 been the meaning of that shot ? These were 
 the thoughts which filled her mind. Mrs. 
 Sandford's talk, full of nervousness, malice, 
 and distracted curiosity, flowed by her un- 
 heeded, with all its italics and exclamation- 
 points. Tete-d-tete in this fashion, Mrs. Mid- 
 dleton found them when she came down- 
 stairs. 
 
 On her Mrs. Sanclford flung herself with a 
 wealth of condolence. " Oh, my dear, dear 
 Mrs. Middleton," she cried, " what a terrible 
 blow to all of us ! Oh, how does our poor 
 darling Leslie bear it ? And oh, is it true 
 quite true that Mr. Tyndale is dead ? " 
 
 " It is quite true," answered Mrs. Middle- 
 ton, whose pale face and tear-stained cheeks 
 made her look ten years older than she had 
 done the day before. She sat down with an 
 air of utter exhaustion in the nearest chair. 
 " Leslie bears it bettor than I could have ex- 
 pected," she said ; " but it is a fearful blow 
 to her fearful ! My heart bleeds for her ; 
 and yet, there is nothing which any one can 
 do. That is the hard part of it." 
 
 " Oh, it is terrible ! " cried Mrs. Sandford 
 again, her eyes expanded, her whole face full 
 of the liveliest interest and curiosity. " Oh, 
 dear Mrs. Middleton, pray do tell me some- 
 thing about it. I have heard nothing abso- 
 lutely nothing but I cannot believe that Mr. 
 Tyndale is really dead ! " 
 
 " Unfortunately, it is impossible to dis- 
 believe it, unless we close our ears to the 
 truth," said Mrs. Middleton. " Mr. Tyndale 
 is certainly dead my husband had seen him 
 when he came back to tell me." 
 
 " And is it true th.it he was murdered? " 
 asked Mrs. Sandford, in an awe-struck whis- 
 per. 
 
 The elder lady bent her head ; for a min- 
 ute she could not speak. Then, in a voice 
 full of tears, she said : " Yes. That is what 
 makes it so hard so horrible ! He has been 
 murdered. Mr. Middleton thinks there is no 
 doubt of it." 
 
 " How ? " asked Norah, speaking for the 
 first time. She had paused in her walk, and 
 stood leaning against the foot of the stair- 
 case, her arm around a small bronze statuette 
 that made a finish to the end of the balus- 
 trade. As Mrs. Middleton glanced toward 
 her, she thought, with a sense of repulsion, 
 that the girl looked cold and utterly heart- 
 less ; even Mrs. Sandford's effusion had more 
 " sympathy " in it than this unmoved calm. 
 
 " Mr. Middleton could not tell exactly 
 how he had been killed," she answered. " He 
 seemed to feel uncertain, and I did not press 
 him for any details. The fact itself was 
 enough for me, and I am sure for Les- 
 lie." 
 
 "Was he shot?" asked Norah. She 
 fully understood the significance of that last 
 sentence, but she chose to satisfy one of the 
 many doubts which were harassing her mind. 
 
 " No," answered Mrs. Middleton. " My 
 husband said they found a pistol, but it was 
 Mr. Tyndale's own and he was not shot." 
 
 " If he had a pistol, why on earth didn't 
 he shoot the murderer ? " cried Mrs. Sand- 
 ford, with the air of one who propounds a 
 perfectly new question, or makes a perfectly 
 new suggestion. " I can't conceive how he 
 could have failed to do that! " 
 
 " The fact puzzled George and Captain 
 Tyndale very much," said Mrs. Middleton. 
 " Altogether it is a most mysterious as well 
 as a most terrible thing ! My poor Leslie ! " 
 Then she turned to Miss Desroond again. 
 " Leslie told me to nsk if you would come to 
 her for a little while," he said . witn some- 
 thing even more c* w an( * stately than usual 
 in her man^r ; and it must be confessed 
 that t 3fi3s Desmond, she always displayed 
 a considerable amount of both coldness and 
 stateliness. " Will you go ? " 
 
 " Assuredly," said Norah. She was sur- 
 prised, but she did not show it in tone or 
 manner. Mrs. Sandford, on her part, could 
 not restrain a glance of the blankest aston- 
 ishment. For Leslie to send for her sister 
 after all that she (Mrs. Sandford) had told 
 her the night before, was inexplicable. " Shall 
 I go at once ? " Norah added, turning and
 
 180 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 placing one foot on the lower step of the 
 staircase. 
 
 " At once, if you will be so kind," Mrs. 
 Middleton answered. " Excuse me that I do 
 not accompany you, but I think Leslie wishes 
 to see you alone." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 " This anguish will be wearied down, I know ; 
 What pang is permanent with man ? From the 
 
 highest 
 
 As from the vilest thing of every day, 
 He learns to wean himself: for the strong hours 
 Conquer him. Yet I feel what I have lost 
 In him. The bloom is vanished from my life." 
 
 LESLIE was alone when Norah entered her 
 room. She was lying quietly on the bed 
 where Mrs. Middleton had insisted upon pla- 
 cing her, and the blinds were closed for 
 what mocks and jars upon grief like sun- 
 shine ? But, as her sister approached, she 
 raised herself, and, looking strangely white 
 and eerie in the green half-light, motioned 
 her to come close. 
 
 This Norah did. She uttered no words 
 what could she say ? but she came, and, 
 kneeling down by the slender, erect figure, 
 put her arms around it for the first time since 
 they had known each other. There was some- 
 thing magnetic something strangely, if si- 
 lently, full of sympathy in her touch. It 
 seemed to express more of tenderness and 
 pity than many words could have done. It 
 was at once strong and full of infinite gentle- 
 ness like her face, Leslie thought, as she 
 turned toward it. Perhaps it was the wist- 
 ful look of that face the wistful compassion 
 of its eyes which suddenly unlocked the 
 great fountain of tears that had hitherto been 
 sealed in the girl's teart. It is certain that 
 her head sank down oil *he shoulder which 
 was at once that of a sister UM a rival, and, 
 with one mighty sob, the great pusqion of 
 grief burst forth. 
 
 Not that flow of relieving tears over which 
 sympathizing friends nod their heads and say, 
 " Poor thing ! it will do her good ! " but a 
 storm of the soul like unto that which, in 
 the natural world, uproots forests and lashes 
 seas into fury, leaving desolation and ruin in 
 its track. It was a storm which frightened 
 even Norah by the intensity and abandon of 
 its passion. Never before had she seen a 
 
 human heart laid bare in such keen agony, 
 such supreme desolation. It may be said, 
 also, that her amazement was almost as great 
 as her concern. Were these tears which 
 flowed in torrents, these sobs which seemed 
 as if they might reud the very breast asun- 
 der, for the man who had not only deceived, 
 but who had been willing to forsake, this 
 woman who trusted him? It was something 
 which the sterner nature could with difficulty 
 comprehend something which touched and 
 almost awed the girl who, though she could 
 be true as steel to truth, was also hard as 
 iron to falsehood or deception. Nature had 
 given her certain grand traits this Norah 
 Desmond little as she may have seemed to 
 show them thus far, but among these traits 
 was nothing half so majestic as the great, 
 generous, unselfish love which Leslie flung 
 like a royal mantle over the corpse of her 
 dead love. 
 
 She felt this herself, and said as much, 
 when Leslie at last regained something of 
 composure if composure that could be called 
 which was little more than utter exhaustion 
 and, lifting her heavy lids, said, faintly : 
 
 " No doubt, you think this strange ; but 
 I I have forgotten every thing, except that 
 I love him, and he is dead." 
 
 " Strange ! " repeated Norah, and out of 
 her own proud eyes a quick, hot shower fell. 
 Then the girl showed what tender impulses 
 came to her sometimes ; she bent her head, 
 and kissed the tear-drenched hand which had 
 dropped from Leslie's eyes. " If this is hu- 
 man love, what must that which is divine 
 be ? " she said. 
 
 " Something greater oh, surely, far great- 
 er than we can guess ! " said Leslie, throw- 
 ing back her head in order to catch the white 
 gleam of an ivory crucifix hanging against 
 the tinted wall above her bed. "But you 
 loved him too, Norah," she said, turning with . 
 sudden passion to her sister. " Do you mean 
 to tell me that your love is dead that love 
 can ever die ? " 
 
 " Not love like yours, perhaps," said 
 Norah, gently, "but mine well, mine may 
 not have been love. God knows. At all 
 events, it died long ago so long ago that I 
 have no tears, save those of pity, to weep for 
 Arthur Tyndale now." 
 
 "I thought mine had died last night," said 
 Leslie ; " I thought nothing but pain was left ; 
 but, you see, I was mistaken. And now it
 
 AN IMPORTANT QUESTION. 
 
 181 
 
 does not matter. Whatever he may have 
 been, I love him that is enough. And he is 
 all mine now mine to remember, mine to 
 love, mine to weep over ! If he had lived, I 
 should never have seen his face more than 
 once again ; but, since he is dead, he is 
 mine ! " 
 
 "And anger, resentment all that you 
 felt last night are they dead, too ? " asked 
 Norah. " Forgive me if I speak of what I 
 should not ; but you set me the example." 
 
 " I sent for you to speak of it," said Les- 
 lie. " I wanted to tell you how I have changed. 
 Last night seems like a hideous dream ; I 
 want to put it away like a dream ; I want to 
 think of him only as I knew him before you 
 came. I think he loved me before you came," 
 she said, wistfully. 
 
 " He loved you all the time ! " cried Norah, 
 passionately. " Leslie, as God hears me, I 
 speak the truth in saying that. He never 
 loved me no, not even in Germany I know 
 that now. I never suited him. You did. He 
 felt this, and knew it, even when he let mad- 
 ness carry him away." 
 
 " Do not let us talk of it," said Leslie. 
 " I did not want to do that. I only wanted 
 to tell you that anger and pride are dead 
 within me, and that I love him I shall al- 
 ways love him ! It is as well, perhaps, that 
 I heard the truth ; but I am glad that I did 
 not hear it earlier ; I am very glad that no 
 cloud of bitterness ever came between us. 
 There is something of comfort in that." 
 
 " Is there ? " said Norah. 
 
 She looked at the speaker, wonderingly. 
 Was it true, after all, that 
 
 "... love is not love 
 That alters when its alteration finds, 
 Or bends with the remover to remove." 
 
 "Regret for that which is past is worse 
 than useless," she said, in a low voice ; " but 
 I am sorry, very sorry, that I told you any 
 thing last night." 
 
 " Sorry ! " repeated Leslie. " Why are 
 you sorry ? Would it have been better to 
 let me eat out my heart with doubt, suspi- 
 cion, and jealousy all those passions which 
 come to us even while we scorn them ? Would 
 it have been better to let me think that you 
 were what you were not ? There is nothing 
 to regret. You spoke the truth in your own 
 "defense, and, as regards yourself, I remember 
 it, but, as regards him ah, it is less than 
 
 nothing to me now ! He is dead, and I love 
 him. All is said in that." 
 
 All was said, indeed all of tenderness, 
 of faithfulness, of love supremely beyond the 
 bounds of passion or of self. Yet, at that 
 moment, something like rebellion rose up in 
 Norah's heart. She thought of the man who 
 had so little deserved this, the silken egotist 
 and epicurean, the careless trifler with all 
 that men of honor hold most sacred; and 
 then she thought with a curious pang of the 
 other, the man of whose devotion Leslie 
 guessed so little, the man who had served her 
 so faithfully, the man who would have been 
 so true if Fate had only granted to him the 
 great gift of this loving heart. " Is it always 
 so ? " she said to herself, with a quick shiver 
 of passionate indignation ; and, as she asked 
 the question which many a sick heart has 
 asked before Leslie turned and spoke, with 
 a sudden tense sound in her voice, a sudden 
 tense eagerness in her face. 
 
 "Norah," said she, quickly, and, as she 
 uttered the name, she grasped Norah's slender 
 hands until the latter could have cried out 
 with pain "Norah, promise me that you will 
 not misunderstand, that you will not think I 
 mean any thing more than I say, when I I 
 ask you a question." 
 
 "Ask what you please," answered Norah, 
 " and I promise to answer truly, and to mis- 
 understand nothing." 
 
 " You will forgive me, I am sure," said 
 Leslie, her eyes seeming to quiver and glow 
 with great dilated pupils in her white face. 
 " Norah, you will not misunderstand, you will 
 not think. It is this, then : you cannot have 
 forgotten that, when I went to your room 
 last night, you had just come in ; ten minutes 
 before, I had stood at my window and seen 
 you cross the lawn Norah, had you not 
 parted from Arthur then ? " 
 
 " Leslie ! " despite the promise which she 
 had given the moment before, Norah wrenched 
 her hands out of those which held them, and 
 drew back, outraged, indignant, aghast 
 " After all that I told you last night," she 
 cried, her clear voice thrilling on the hushed 
 atmosphere, " can you ask me such a question 
 as that? Do you think that I would have 
 given another interview to Arthur Tyndale, 
 and an interview at such an hour and such a 
 time ? If you can think that of me, you must 
 believe me to be utterly false ! " 
 
 " I do not think that you are false," said
 
 182 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Leslie, simply. " I only thought that, if you 
 had seen him, you might know something 
 you might be able to throw some light on this 
 horrible mystery. He was so unlike himself 
 last night he avoided me so strangely that 
 the awful thought of suicide has not left my 
 mind for an instant since Aunt Mildred first 
 came to me. You know" her voice sank 
 here, she shuddered in every fibre "that 
 means the death of the soul as well as of the 
 body Norah, I shall go mad if I am forced 
 to think that ! " 
 
 " There is no reason why you should think 
 it for a moment," said Norah. " From what 
 Mrs. Middleton told me a while ago, there is 
 no question but that he was murdered there 
 is not one single indication of suicide. But 
 when you talk of my knowing any thing, of 
 my being able to throw any light, you do not 
 know what you say," she went on, with some- 
 thing like a gasp in her voice. At that mo- 
 ment, a sense of her position came to her 
 like a flash of light. If Leslie opened her 
 lips to others, if it were known that she had 
 been in the neighborhood of the bridge at 
 midnight, what might not be the result ? 
 " I did not see Arthur Tyndale last night," 
 she said, " after I left the dinner-table." 
 
 " Yet you were in the grounds," said Les- 
 lie, feverishly. "Norah, if you know any 
 thing, for God's sake do not keep it from 
 me!" 
 
 " Why should you think that I know any 
 thing ? " asked Norah, more and more dis- 
 quieted. " Leslie, for Heaven's sake, be more 
 reasonable ! It is true that I was later in re- 
 turning to the house last night than I ought 
 to have been, but I saw nothing, I heard noth- 
 ing of Arthur Tyndale. Do you not believe 
 me ? Shall I take that crucifix and swear to 
 my ignorance on it? " 
 
 " No," answered Leslie. " I do believe 
 you. But was there no one ? Did you see 
 no trace of any one who might " 
 
 Norah's lifted band stayed the words on 
 her lip. The girl's face had grown white as 
 marble. It was like marble, also, in the ri- 
 gidity which came to the beautiful features. 
 For a moment, her heart seemed to stand 
 still. Had she seen any one who might she 
 could not finish the sentence even to her- 
 self. 
 
 " I saw no one," she said, after a minute 
 her voice was hoarse, her lips seemed stiff 
 " no one whom it would be possible to con- 
 
 nect with such a crime. The only person 
 whom I saw was one who would have given 
 his life to save Arthur Tyndale ; but no one 
 who Leslie, do you not comprehend ? Do 
 you not see that, if you speak of this, you 
 may plant the seed of an evil to end God 
 only knows where ! On my faith and honor, 
 I know nothing, I saw nothing, I heard noth- 
 ing of Mr. Tyndale's death for it seems that 
 a shot which I heard had no connection with 
 it. I went there simply and solely to serve 
 you. Leslie, will you repay me by throwing 
 you know not what of suspicion on me or 
 on some one as innocent as I am ? " 
 
 " Throw suspicion on you I " repeated Les- 
 lie, stricken aghast. "Norah, are you mad ? 
 How can you misunderstand me so utterly 
 so horribly ? How can you think I meant to 
 ask to imply " 
 
 " I do not think you meant to imply any 
 thing," said Norah, who was trembling in 
 every limb ; " but, Leslie, promise me that 
 you will give no hint of this. It would be 
 too terrible if any one were promise me you 
 will say nothing ! Remember," cried she, 
 clutching eagerly at a plea which at another 
 time she would never have made, " that my 
 good name is in your hands ; and, oh, promise 
 promise me ! " 
 
 Her eagerness might have defeated its 
 own end, and wakened the suspicion of a 
 suspicious nature ; but, farthest in the world 
 from a suspicious nature was Leslie Grahame. 
 The charity which " thinketh no evil " was 
 hers in superlative degree. Suspect ! Sus- 
 pect the sister whose arms were round her, 
 whose limpid eyes met her own there was 
 nothing which she could not sooner have 
 done. She answered, therefore, out of the 
 fullness of her heart : 
 
 " I can promise I do promise, if you wish 
 it, but I never thought of speaking to any one 
 else. I sent for you in order that I might ask 
 you, and you alone. I was tormented by the 
 thought that you might know something which 
 would tell me a little how he died. 
 Norah" she threw herself on her sister's 
 shoulder, the agony of tears and sobs broke 
 forth afresh " it is this which is so unutter- 
 ably terrible ! It is never to know how he 
 died, never to have another glance, word, or 
 tone, even in farewell ! If I had only known 
 last night ah, if I had only known ! To 
 have one last good-by to remember, would be 
 better than this awful silence and strange
 
 THE VERDICT. 
 
 183 
 
 ness. Oh ! " with a long, shuddering gasp 
 " why had I not instinct enough to take 
 that last good-by ! " 
 
 And JS T orah was not able to say, " It is 
 better so ! " though she knew that for such a 
 blow to cut sharp and clean, is far better than 
 a prolonged agony of foreboding suspense. 
 People talk, of "preparation," but in reality 
 there is no such thing. If a surgeon were 
 going to amputate your limb, would you like 
 him to hack at it for an hour, in order to pre- 
 pare you for the final operation ? 
 
 "It will not kill me," Leslie said, after 
 a while, piteously. . " Grief is not merciful 
 enough to kill. No doubt I shall live through 
 the agony as others have done before. But 
 oh, the bitterness, the anguish of thinking 
 that I did not even say, ' Good-night ! ' " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 " To-morrow is a day too far 
 
 To trust, whate'er the day be. 
 We know, a little, what we are ; 
 But who knows what he may be ? 
 
 'Tis God made man, no doubt, not Chance: 
 
 He made us great and small; 
 But, being made, 'tis Circumstance 
 
 That finishes ns all." 
 
 SUCH an event as the death of Mr. Tyn- 
 dale, of Strafford, could not do other than 
 make an immediate and very great sensation 
 in his native county. That it became known 
 very soon, and very widely, will not surprise 
 those who have seen how quickly news passes 
 from lip to lip, and plantation to plantation, 
 in country districts. Mr. Middleton's excited 
 messenger, galloping full-speed to Wexford 
 for the coroner, took care to communicate 
 his intelligence to every man, woman, and 
 child, whom he met; and from Wexford it- 
 self the news soon spread in a hundred dif- 
 ferent channels. In less than an hour after 
 Mr. Middleton and Max parted on the bridge, 
 the nearest neighbors of the dead man made 
 their appearance on the scene ; and, after 
 that, friends, acquaintances, relations, and 
 connections, poured in by the score. The 
 coroner, coming over at once for, when a 
 man of wealth and position has been mur- 
 dered at his own threshold, officials are not 
 likely to delay, as they are sometimes known 
 to do in cases of inferior humanity the cor- 
 oner, I say, coming over at once, had no dif- 
 
 ficulty in obtaining his jury, and the inquest 
 took place immediately. 
 
 No new facts were elicited. The marks 
 of the struggle on the sward at the side of 
 the bridge, the footprints at the extreme edge 
 of the bank, the broken sod showing so dis- 
 tinctly the very spot from which Arthur had 
 apparently been cast over into the chasm, 
 the slight print of the body on the damp sand 
 where he fell, the evident correspondence of 
 the wound with the shape of the stone around 
 which were the traces of blood all was so 
 obvious at one glance that the most stupid 
 of the jurors found no difficulty in perceiving 
 and understanding, and no excuse for differ- 
 ence of opinion. Even the, physician, attend- 
 ing professionally a pompous man, who was 
 in the habit of indulging, on such occasions, 
 in long disquisitions, interlarded with many 
 high-sounding technical terms, upon the va- 
 rious probabilities and possibilities as to the 
 cause of death was for once reduced to the 
 necessity of expressing a plain fact in plain 
 words. 
 
 As soon as the inspection of the locale had 
 been made the body was removed to Strafford, 
 the jury accompanying, more for the conven- 
 ience of holding their deliberation in com- 
 fortable quarters than from any necessity for 
 further examination of the remains. Before 
 | twelve o'clock they had brought in their ver- 
 I diet to the effect that " the deceased Arthur 
 | Tyndale came to his death from fracture of 
 the skull, caused by having been violently 
 thrown against the sharp point of a stone by 
 some person or persons unknown." 
 
 Beyond this verdict, neither the jury it- 
 self, nor the large number of attendant friends, 
 was' able to advance even a conjecture. "Who 
 the assailant and murderer had been, no one 
 was able to imagine. There were none of the 
 usual surmises and opinions afloat. Men 
 seemed for once silenced by the mystery en- 
 veloping the whole affair. That they talked 
 a great deal, no one who has ever seen such 
 an assemblage on such an occasion will be 
 able to doubt ; but out of all their talk no 
 single suggestion of any importance came 
 no single opinion worth a moment's attention 
 was elicited. From his position in the house, 
 Max had to bear the brunt of much of this 
 talk, and to endure, as best he could, a great 
 deal of very useless and aimless questioning. 
 In dealing with these questions, he was more 
 curt than was cither exactly courteous or ex-
 
 184 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 actly prudent. In fact, he was not only 
 wretched full of a grief which can scarcely 
 be exaggerated but he was horribly at a loss 
 what to do or say. If he acknowledged his 
 presence in the Rosland grounds the night 
 before, how could he account for this pres- 
 ence without bringing Norah's name into a 
 notoriety which would be fatal to it a noto- 
 riety from which every instinct of the gentle- 
 man shrank ? and, if he did not acknowledge 
 it, his silence would certainly bear a very sin- 
 gular and suspicious seeming, in case the fact 
 was discovered. It was a position which 
 might have sorely puzzled any man. Yet it 
 did not puzzle Max in the sense of leaving 
 him in doubt what to do. There was no hesi- 
 tation about that. He must shield Norah at 
 any cost. But the burden of concealment 
 sat uneasily on him, and he chafed under it. 
 Every time that the pistol was mentioned, he 
 felt an almost irresistible impulse to say, " I 
 heard that shot ;" and it required an effort to 
 restrain the words. He did not forget that 
 he had uttered them to Mr. Middleton on an 
 impulse which he afterward regretted ; but he 
 was relieved to observe that Mr. Middleton, 
 who had paid little attention at the time, had 
 apparently suffered the fact to escape entirely 
 from his memory. 
 
 One fact had, also, entirely escaped Max's 
 memory, or, to speak more correctly, had not 
 yet occurred to it. This was the fact that, in 
 case of Arthur's dying intestate which there 
 was every reasonable probability to suppose 
 that he had done he (Max) succeeded to the 
 Tyndale estate as heir-at-law. If he did not 
 think of it, however, there were plenty of 
 others who did. Next to the mysterious 
 death itself, the question of heirship was the 
 great topic on every tongue. This was natu- 
 ral enough. Such things have been since the 
 world began, and will doubtless be as long as 
 the world endures, unless the socialists get 
 the upper hand, and take care that a man has 
 no estate to leave, no probable last will and 
 testament to be canvassed before the breath 
 has fairly left his lips. Solemn and long- 
 faced as Arthur's friends and kinsmen were, 
 their grief was not so absorbing but that they 
 were able to take a very lively interest in won- 
 dering whether he had ever thought of making 
 a will, or whether the young soldier, and half- 
 foreigner, whom none of them particularly 
 liked, was to fall heir to the rich inherit- 
 ance- 
 
 The day which chanced to be Sunday 
 seemed of the length of many days, both at 
 Strafford and Roslund. At the former place, 
 it was more like a hideous nightmare than 
 any thing else at least, to Max servants dis- 
 traught, people thronging everywhere filling 
 with a strange tide of life the quiet old rooms, 
 the halls, the piazzas and Arthur lying in 
 state apart from all, with the majestic calm 
 of death on his fair, handsome face. 
 
 Mr. Middleton did not go home to lunch- 
 eon, not because he was not hungry, not be- 
 cause he would not have been heartily glad 
 of a little quiet and rest, but because he 
 shrank with all the proverbial and universal 
 cowardice of his sex from the tears which, he 
 was well aware, reigned supreme at Rosland. 
 Instead of luncheon, dinner was served at 
 Strafford for half a hundred people (more or 
 less), unlimited eating and drinking being a 
 recognized consequence of death in the coun- 
 try districts, where old customs and traditions 
 still linger. After dinner, Mr. Middleton es- 
 caped from one or two inveterate talkers who 
 had clung to him all the morning, and took 
 bis meerschaum and himself out on the ter- 
 race where Arthur and Norah had stood when 
 Mrs. Sandford overheard their conversation 
 from the library-window. All was quiet and 
 still there. The old-fashioned flower-gar- 
 den, neglected and overgrown, but still beau- 
 tiful, lay immediately below ; the shadows 
 were long, the afternoon was full of golden 
 serenity and beauty it seemed impossible to 
 realize that death was so near, that the mas- 
 ter of all these fair acres could now only 
 claim the allotted six feet of earth to which 
 every child of man is entitled. 
 
 While Mr. Middleton sighed and smoked, 
 and smoked and sighed thinking now of 
 Leslie and now of Arthur a quiet footstep 
 came round the house and advanced toward 
 him. Being slightly deaf, and not listening 
 besides, he did not hear it, and it was not 
 until an unexpected voice at his side said, 
 " Can I speak to you a moment sir ? " that 
 he started and turned. 
 
 Then he saw that it was Arthur's English 
 servant who had addressed him. 
 
 "Well, Giles," he snid " I believe your 
 name is Giles, isn't it ? what do you want ? " 
 
 " I should like to speak to you, if you 
 please, sir," repeated Giles, respectfully. 
 
 " Very well," was the careless reply, 
 " speak away ! Though you had better have
 
 A SENSE OF DUTY. 
 
 185 
 
 gone to Captain Tyndale if you have any 
 business on hand." 
 
 " I couldn't 'ave gone to Captain Tyudale, 
 sir, because I want to speak to you about 
 Captain Tyndale," responded Giles, solemnly. 
 
 " About Captain Tyndale indeed ! " said 
 Mr. Middleton. He looked up, at this, with 
 more attention. What did the fellow mean ? 
 The fellow in question looked pale and a tri- 
 fle agitated, but also determined, and ani- 
 mated, perhaps, by that " sense of duty " 
 which plays such an important part in the re- 
 solves of his betters. 
 
 " I 'ave nothing against Captain Tyndale 
 in any way, sir," he said, meeting Mr. Mid- 
 dleton's glance. " He 'us been a gentleman 
 to me in every way, and I wishes him no ill 
 in the world ; but duty is duty, sir, and that 
 I'm sure you'll agree to." 
 
 "Certainly," said Mr. Middleton. "I'll 
 agree to it with pleasure. Duty is duty, 
 unquestionably, and should always be per- 
 formed, even if it is not particularly agree- 
 able. But what has your duty to do with 
 Captain Tyndale ? " 
 
 " It 'as this, sir : that I'm of the opinion 
 that it's my duty to let the gentlemen who 
 'ave been sitting on Mr. Tyndale's body know 
 certain things what came to my knowledge 
 last night, sir quite accidental, as one may 
 say." 
 
 " Facts about his death ? " said Mr. Mid- 
 dleton, startled into interest at once. " Of 
 course, if you know any thing about that, it 
 is your duty to tell it immediately. The jury 
 of inquest are done with the case ; but, if you 
 know any thing about how Mr. Tyndale came 
 to his death any thing of real importance 
 you can go to a magistrate and give your evi- 
 dence on oath. Give it to me first, however, 
 and let me judge of its value. Now, what 
 is it ? " 
 
 Thus energetically brought to the point, 
 Giles who, to do him justice, evinced no dis- 
 position to fall back made a plain state- 
 ment of the facts, with which the reader is 
 already acquainted of the altercation be- 
 tween the two cousins, which, according to 
 his testimony, had reached the point of per- 
 sonal contest when he surprised them ; of 
 Captain Tyndale's leaving the house ; of Ar- 
 thur's following him ; of the return of the 
 former alone some time after midnight. Told 
 simply, and, as the man averred, honestly, 
 without any ill-feeling toward Max, the story 
 
 was even more effective that if it had been 
 freely colored by suspicion or partisanship. 
 " It's my duty to my dead master, sir, to tell 
 what I know, and that's what I know," he 
 said, in conclusion. As for Mr. Middleton, 
 he was amazed, startled, aghast, and yet in- 
 credulous. He attached very little impor- 
 tance to the account of the quarrel setting 
 most of it down to the exaggeration which 
 seems inherent in the serving nature and he 
 did not believe for a moment that Max had 
 borne any part in his cousin's death ; but he 
 was certainly confounded by the circumstan- 
 tial evidence thus abruptly brought forward 
 against him. " Good Heavens ! " he said to 
 himself. Here was a new element of trouble 
 an element which he must, if possible, nip 
 in the bud. Hence, after a minute's reflec- 
 tion, he turned to Giles : 
 
 " It is an excellent thing, and shows your 
 I discretion, that you came privately to me 
 with this story," he said, gravely. " I do 
 full justice to your motives, which I am sure 
 are good ones ; but you are entirely wrong in 
 your conclusions, and might have done great 
 mischief if you had expressed them publicly. 
 It is impossible to connect Captain Tyndale 
 in any way with his cousin's death, and the 
 events which seem so important to you strike 
 me in the light of mere coincidences. They 
 would have no legal value, I am sure ; but 
 they might cause a great deal of scandal and 
 gossip. Therefore, if you wish to serve your 
 master as well as Captain Tyndale, you can 
 best do so by holding your tongue." 
 
 Giles's face fell a little. He looked disap- 
 pointed and obstinate. Mr. Middleton saw 
 the first expression : the latter escaped his 
 observation. 
 
 " I am sure you mean well," he said again, 
 with emphasis. " But this story must go no 
 farther. Understand that. It is a family 
 matter, of which nothing must be said." 
 
 " I can't help thinking that it's my duty, 
 sir, to let the jury know," said Giles, with 
 some of the obstinacy of his face creeping 
 into his tone, and asserting itself very distinct- 
 ly there. 
 
 " The jury be hanged, sir, and your duty, 
 too !" said Mr. Middleton, angrily. "Do you 
 mean to set your judgment up against mine? 
 The jury have brought in their verdict, and 
 their business is done. Yours is done, too, 
 when you have brought your story and told 
 it to me. The responsibility of acting or not
 
 186 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 acting upon it ia my affair. No one could 
 have better reason for desiring to discover 
 the murderer of your master than I have ; 
 but, as for crediting an absurdity like this 
 Again I repeat, that your motives are no doubt 
 good, but I don't wish to hear any more of 
 the subject." 
 
 " Very well, sir," said Giles. " I am sor- 
 ry to have troubled you. I'll take care not 
 to trouble you again." 
 
 " The trouble is of no importance," said 
 Mr. Middleton. " You were right to come to 
 me. I only wish you to understand that the 
 matter is to go no further." 
 
 Giles made no reply. He took his dis- 
 missal very quietly and walked away ; but, if 
 Mr. Middleton had seen his face and read its 
 expression rightly, he would not have enter- 
 tained any very sanguine expectations of his 
 letting the matter go no further. 
 
 la truth, Giles was as determined as a 
 man could be that, since Mr. Middleton de- 
 clined to act for him, he would act for him- 
 self. A sense of duty had something, per- 
 haps, to do with this resolution, and sincere 
 regard for his master had more ; but, most 
 of all, was the important sense of possessing 
 a clew to the mysterious murder which no one 
 tflse possessed. Holding this clew this posi- 
 tive knowledge should he make no use of 
 it ? " The man what knows of a crime, and 
 conceals a crime, as good as commits it," said 
 Giles, solemnly. Where he had learned this 
 scrap of legal or other kind of wisdom, it is 
 impossible to pay ; but he was fully resolved 
 to act upon it. 
 
 Before taking any further steps, however, 
 he waited until Mr. Middlcton left Strafford 
 which that gentleman did in the course of the 
 afternoon. " I'll go home, take a little rest, 
 and be back to-night," he said, as he shook 
 hands with Max at parting. " Not but that 
 you'll have enough and more than enough 
 people on your hands." 
 
 " I suppose so," said Max, who looked as 
 thoroughly broken down as a man with strong 
 fibres and strong nerves ever appears. The 
 excitement and " worry " of the day, follow- 
 ing close upon the terrible shock of the morn- 
 ing, had tried him almost beyond endurance. 
 Mr. Middleton, who had thought of giving 
 him a hint concerning Giles's story, had 
 enough of kindly discretion to hold his 
 tongue when he noticed how pale and worn 
 he looked. He left without having said any 
 
 thing, and Max, not long afterward, went to 
 his own room and locked himself in to rest, 
 he said. 
 
 In this way, the coast was left clear for 
 Giles, who, from his position in the back- 
 ground, was keeping his eyes and ears very 
 well open indeed. Having failed so utterly 
 with Mr. Middleton, he made up his mind 
 that the next person to whom he applied 
 should be of an entirely different stamp from 
 that worthy gentleman. He had sense enough 
 to know that his story would not be likely to 
 receive much more attention from a magis- 
 trate than it had already received from Mr. 
 Middleton, unless he was supported by some 
 gentleman of influence, and, if possible, a 
 connection of the murdered man. There 
 were several connections of the murdered 
 man in the house, and one, in especial, was 
 of marked influence and position. This was 
 a distant cousin of Arthur's one of the dis- 
 agreeable relations concerning whom he had 
 once spoken to Leslie, and with whom his in- 
 tercourse during life had always been as dis- 
 tant as their relationship. The name of this 
 gentleman was Colville, and, though he was 
 an eminently unpleasant man, he" was one of 
 the men who seem to mount in life on the 
 score of their very unpleasantness. Nothing, 
 perhaps, in human nature is more marked 
 than the tendency to allow itself to be brow- 
 beaten and bullied by almost any man who 
 possesses sufficient force of character for the 
 purpose. Force of character Mr. Colville cer- 
 tainly possessed, united to aggressively vio- 
 lent opinions on every possible subject, and an 
 indomitable obstinacy. He was a man who 
 " owned " half the county, people said. They 
 did not mean its literal acres, but its flesh- 
 and-blood inhabitants. What of such and 
 such a man ? somebody would say, and the 
 answer would be, "Oh, he belongs to Col- 
 ville ! " In other words, Mr. Colville had suc- 
 ceeded in reducing a certain number of his 
 fellow - citizens to the condition of puppets, 
 who moved with exemplary obedience as he 
 pulled their strings. With this kind of man 
 there are only two courses open you are his 
 subject or his opponent. Arthur Tyndale 
 had never been a subject, therefore Mr. Gol- 
 ville at least had always reckoned him an op- 
 ponent. Of Max this gentleman knew little, 
 but that little was, in his opinion, of a dis- 
 paraging character. Since his arrival at 
 Strafford, his harsh voice had been chiefly
 
 MR. COLVILLE AND GILES. 
 
 187 
 
 heard in loud disapproval of every thing 
 which had been done, and protest against 
 every thing which it was proposed to do. 
 This was the man to whom Giles went with 
 a request for a private interview. 
 
 It is almost unnecessary to say that Mr. 
 Colville at once acceded to this request. 
 Nothing gratified him more than such an ap- 
 peal. He left a group, whom he was instruct- 
 ing in their social, moral, and political duties, 
 to enter the library, seat himself in Arthur's 
 favorite chair, and bid Giles, in his loud, pa- 
 tronizing voice, " speak out." 
 
 This Giles, who was by no means troubled 
 with diffidence, proceeded to do. He told his 
 story as he had told it to Mr. Middleton, sim- 
 ply and without pretense. Again he laid 
 stress upon the fact that he had " nothing 
 against " Captain Tyndale ; it was a pure sense 
 of duty which urged him to make this state- 
 ment, he said ; and, indeed, to do Giles justice, 
 he was undoubtedly buoyed up by a conscious- 
 ness of disinterested virtue, which was, in a 
 certain sense, its own reward. 
 
 After the cold water which Mr. Middleton 
 had thrown on his story, it was unquestion- 
 ably gratifying to excite such vivid interest 
 and belief as that which made Mr. Colville's 
 grizzly hairs stand on end. No thought of 
 incredulity came to him. Amazement, cer- 
 tainly horror, perhaps disgust fit his own 
 obtuseness in a measure ; but not incredulity 
 in the least degree. 
 
 "Good God!" he said, when he found 
 voice to speak at last. " Who would have 
 believed it ? Here, under my very eyes, and 
 nobody to suspect such a thing for a minute ! 
 Even I I never to think of it! You should 
 have spoken to me before," he said, turning 
 sternly upon Giles. " What on earth do you 
 mean by letting the whole day pass, and wait- 
 ing until sunset, before you open your mouth 
 to give such important information as this ? " 
 
 " I did speak before, sir," said Giles, who 
 was deeply offended by such a mode of ad- 
 dress. "I went to Mr. Middleton, but he 
 didn't seem to think the story worth any at- 
 tention." 
 
 " Mr. Middleton ! " repeated Mr. Colville, 
 in a tone of inexpressible scorn. " What the 
 devil put it into your head to go to Mr. Mid- 
 dloton ? If you had wanted to find an incom- 
 petent person, you couldn't have done better ; 
 And pray what did Mr. Middleton say ? " 
 
 " He said I had better hold my tongue, 
 
 sir that the story would only make scandal 
 and gossip but I had a sense of duty, sir ; 
 and I couldn't think but what I ought to state 
 the facts." 
 
 " Hold your tongue ! Heaven and earth ! " 
 said Mr. Colville, his gray hair bristling more 
 and more on his scantily-covered head "I 
 never heard any thing to equal it ! " he said, 
 with indignation rising hotter. "That any 
 man, with the least sense of duty, should en- 
 deavor or desire to conceal such a crime it 
 is almost incredible ! To conceal a crime is 
 to connive at it ! " said he, bending his bushy- 
 gray eyebrows and small gray eyes in a terrify- 
 ing manner upon poor Giles. " It is a good thing 
 that you did not take Mr. Middleton's most 
 extraordinary I may even say, most criminal 
 advice ! It is a good thing that you came 
 to me. But it would have been a better thing 
 if you had not wasted time, if you had come 
 to me at once !" 
 
 "I'm sorry I did not, sir," said Giles, over- 
 awed, as Mr. Colville mostly did overawe those 
 with whom he came in contact. " But I knew 
 Mr. Middleton best, and Mr. Tyndale was en- 
 gaged to his niece, and so I thought " 
 
 "There is no time to waste in excuses,'* 
 said Mr. Colville, waving his hand. " You 
 should have known my position in the family 
 sufficiently to come to me at once. Now, go 
 and find Mr. Armistead and tell him that I 
 wish to see him here in the library. Hold 
 yourself in readiness to ride to Wexford with 
 him in the course of the next hour, and take 
 care that you don't open your lips, so that a 
 word of this comes to Captain Tyndale's ears." 
 
 " I shall take care, sir," said Giles, meekly. 
 
 He went in search of Mr. Armistead an- 
 other connection of the family, and loyal vas- 
 sal to Mr. Colville whom he found on the 
 front portico, listening to a voluble gentleman, 
 who was proving, to his own entire satisfac- 
 tion, that Arthur's death had been purely ac- 
 cidental. " Yes," Mr. Armistead was saying, 
 meditatively, " I quite agree with you;" when 
 Giles summoned him away to the presence of 
 his dictatorial chief. He was a pleasant, gentle- 
 manly man, of mild temper and indolent hab- 
 its, who found that it saved trouble to be gov- 
 erned by his wife at home and by Mr. Colville 
 abroad a man whose abilities might have 
 helped him to a very fair position in the world, 
 if he had not chanced early in life upon the 
 misfortune of marrying an heiress. That fact 
 had crushed all active manhood out of him,
 
 188 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 as it has crushed it out of many another 
 man. " I suppose I may be allowed a word 
 about the management of the property, Mr. 
 Armistead, since /brought it into the fami- 
 ly ! " his sharp - tongued better - half would 
 say. " As many words as you please, my 
 dear," Mr. Armistead would answer, taking 
 up his gun. hunting and shooting' were the 
 only things in which he really felt an interest 
 and walking away. This was the man whom 
 Mr. Colville summoned to his privy council, 
 and who strolled into the library with his 
 hands in his pockets, and an air of exceeding 
 listlessness on his face. The listlessness died 
 away, however, when he saw the bent brows 
 and bristling hairs which made Mr. Colville's 
 visage a thing of terror and dismay. 
 
 " What is the matter, Colville ? " he cried. 
 " What the deuce has happened ? " 
 
 Mr. Colville frowned majestically. He 
 was swelling with a sense of dignified im- 
 portance, on which the other's free-and-easy 
 question jarred. 
 
 " What has happened," he said, " is not a 
 subject for levity. Even ignorant levity may 
 sometimes be very ill-advised." 
 
 " I was not aware that I had displayed any 
 particular levity," said Mr. Armistead, care- 
 lessly. " I only asked what had happened ; 
 a man may do that without giving offense, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " Nothing has happened at least nothing 
 new," said Mr. Colville, after a minute he 
 disliked few things more than to answer a 
 question, or enter upon an explanation ; but 
 sometimes, as in the present instance, he was 
 obliged to do it " I have only received posi- 
 tive information touching the murder of poor 
 Tyndale." 
 
 " The devil you have ! " cried Mr. Armi- 
 stead, excited for once. " By George ! Why, 
 Denton has just been trying to prove that he 
 was killed accidentally." 
 
 " Denton's a fool ! " said Mr. Colville, 
 sharply. And people who waste their time 
 listening to him are not much better ! I 
 knew, of course any man with eyes must 
 have known that Tyndale had been mur- 
 dered ; but I confess that I did not think of 
 attaching suspicion to the very man whom a 
 child might have suspected the man who, in 
 all probability will profit so largely and ex- 
 clusively by his death." 
 
 Mr. Armistead had sat lazily down in a 
 chair after the rebuke to his levity ; he sprang 
 
 now to his feet, as completely astonished, as 
 thoroughly startled, as a man could be im- 
 agined. 
 
 " Great Heaven ! " he said. Do you mean 
 Max Tyndale ? Is it possible you suspect Max 
 Tyndale ? " 
 
 " I did not say that I suspected any thing, 
 but that I knew the truth," responded Mr. 
 Colville, sharply. If Giles was not a parti- 
 san, he certainly was. There are some people 
 to whom an impartial frame of mind, even for 
 five minutes, is impossible. 
 
 "I suppose you have no objection to let- 
 ting me hear what your grounds of belief 
 are ? " said Mr. Armistead, sitting down 
 again. 
 
 " Since you are, in a measure, a connection 
 of the family " Mrs. Armistead had been a 
 Miss Colville, and a forty-second cousin of 
 Arthur " I sent for you for that purpose," 
 said Mr. Colville, magisterially. He then re- 
 capitulated what Giles had told him a rela- 
 tion which, as it may be imagined, took lib- 
 eral color from his own belief, and therefore 
 impressed his hearer even more strongly than 
 it would otherwise have done. The train of 
 circumstances was clear enough, however, to 
 have impressed any one especially a man of 
 indolent mind, who usually liked his thinking 
 done for him. When the story was ended, 
 Mr. Armistead agreed that the events were ' 
 " suspicious very .suspicious, indeed ! " but 
 he ventured to add a hope that the other did 
 not mean to "make them public." 
 
 " Not make them public ! " repeated Mr. 
 Colville, the blood rushing into his face, an- 
 grily, his hairs bristling again. " I shall cer- 
 tainly see that the evidence is brought before 
 a magistrate as soon as possible, if that is 
 what you call making it public! I have a 
 sense of duty, sir; and to allow a murderer 
 to go scot-free, because his apprehension 
 might reflect discredit on the family, is some- 
 thing that I have no idea of doing." 
 
 " Well, what the deuce do you want with 
 me?" said Mr. Armistead, rather more snap- 
 pishly than he usually spoke. "You are a 
 magistrate: you can take the matter in hand, 
 and hear the evidence, if you've a mind to." 
 
 " I am a magistrate, it is true," said Mr. 
 Colville ; " but, as a member of the family, I 
 should prefer that the case was not brought 
 before me. I want you, therefore, to take this 
 servant and go over to Wexford. Let him 
 give his evidence before Purcell ; and see that
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S ARREST. 
 
 189 
 
 the warrant is issued as soon as possible, and 
 sent out here." 
 
 " I'll be d d if I do ! " said Mr. Armistead, 
 with a flat rebellion for which his chief was 
 wholly unprepared. "I dou't call this the 
 conduct of one gentleman to another gentle- 
 man. Before taking the evidence of a servant 
 against Captain Tyndale, it is as little as you 
 could do to send for him and give him a 
 chance to speak for himself." 
 
 "A chance to saddle a horse and leave the 
 country, more likely ! " said the other, with 
 angry contempt. " One gentleman to another 
 gentleman, indeed ! I am not intending to 
 treat Captain Tyndale as a gentleman, but as 
 a criminal which he certainly is. If you 
 don't choose to take the servant to Wexford, 
 however, you have only to say so, and I'll 
 take him myself! " 
 
 " Oh, I suppose I can take him," said Mr. 
 Armistead, apparently thinking better of his 
 resolution. " It is not / who have to give the 
 evidence. But you see how late it is ! It 
 strikes me it is scarcely worth while to go 
 this evening. Won't to-morrow morning an- 
 swer as well?" 
 
 "It will not answer at all," said Mr. Col- 
 ville, emphatically. " There has been too 
 much delay already ; I'll not take the respon- 
 sibility of an hour longer on my shoulders. 
 If Giles had not been fool enough to go to 
 Middleton, instead of coming to me, there 
 would not have been the delay there has 
 been!" 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 "Most learned judge ! A sentence ; come, prepare." 
 
 NOTWITHSTANDING Mr. Colville's anxiety 
 for haste, it was not until the next morning 
 that a constable arrived at Strafford with a 
 warrant of arrest for Captain Tyndale. His ap- 
 pearance fell like a thunder-bolt on the assem- 
 bled party. To chronicle all the disjointed 
 exclamations, and all the Babel of discussion 
 which ensued, would be to try the patience 
 of the most long-suffering reader, and would, 
 moreover, serve no purpose in advancing'the 
 history of events. Max himself, after the 
 first shock, was perhaps (with the exception 
 of Mr. Colville, and one or two of his most 
 intimate subjects), the person least taken by 
 surprise. Not that he had definitely expected 
 such a result as this, but he had been so 
 
 thoroughly conscious all the day before of the 
 false position in which his reticence was 
 placing him, that instinct may be said to have 
 warned him of its consequences. Public sen- 
 timent, generally, was one of disapproving 
 surprise. It was an underhanded piece of 
 business, men said, who, whatever their other 
 faults, believed in, and, as a rule, stood up for, 
 fair play. Only two or three of Mr. Colville's 
 immediate friends were found to support the 
 measure. " Wait until you hear the evidence 
 against him ! " they said, nodding sagely. 
 
 As for Mr. Middleton, he was overcome 
 with indignation when he heard the news. 
 He blamed himself severely that he had not 
 warned Max of the story which Giles had 
 brought to him. "I ought to have done that 
 at once !" he thought, as he went in search 
 of the young man. 
 
 He found him in his own room, dressing, 
 having lain down to snatch a little sleep in 
 the latter part of the night, and having been 
 ruthlessly waked on the appearance of the 
 constable and the warrant. If he had lost 
 his composure in the first shock, he had by 
 this time regained it, for he turned to Mr. 
 Middleton with a coolness which excited that 
 gentleman's surprise and admiration though 
 an under-current of emotion seemed vibrating 
 through his voice when he spoke. 
 
 " I suppose you have heard what lias hap- 
 pened," he said. "What do you think of 
 it?" 
 
 " I think that I am more sorry than I can 
 say that I did not warn you yesterday that 
 your cousin's servant came to me with a story 
 which I suppose he has since carried to more 
 credulous or malicious ears, and of which this 
 is the result," Mr. Middleton answered. " I 
 take it for granted that you know what I 
 mean. Something about a difficulty between 
 Arthur and yourself." 
 
 " Giles ! " said Max, starting. A flash of 
 light seemed to come to him. " So it was 
 Giles, was it ? I did not think of that. And 
 you say he came to you with the story ?" 
 
 " He came to me yesterday afternoon, and, 
 when he found that I paid no attention to it, 
 he went so I judge from what I hear down- 
 stairs to Colville. You know Colville. You 
 won't be surprised to learn that Jie is at the 
 bottom of the whole affair." 
 
 " No, I am not surprised," said Max ; but 
 he stood for a minute apparently lost in 
 thought. " I mean I am not surprised that
 
 190 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 Mr. Colville, who seems to dislike me, should 
 be ready to believe any report to my dis- 
 credit," he added, after a while ; " but how he 
 or any one else could think this " 
 
 " Colville dislikes every one who does not 
 belong to him body and soul," said Mr. Mid- 
 dleton, dryly ; " but you need not go far to 
 find a reason why he dislikes you particularly, 
 or why he is ready enough to credit even this 
 you are the heir-at-law of the Tyndale estate." 
 
 " Good God ! " said Max, with uncontrol- 
 lable agitation, " but that makes it all the 
 more terrible. How can any man believe 
 that I the heir-at-law, as you say could 
 have laid violent hands on Arthur ; that I 
 could have left him dead and come back to 
 sleep under his roof; that I could Great 
 Heaven ! is it for that they suspect me of 
 murdering him ? " demanded he, turning upon 
 Mr. Middleton, with passion and horror min- 
 gled in his face. 
 
 " It is very likely they have not stopped 
 to think about it at all," answered the other. 
 " A sort of frenzy seizes people at such times, 
 you know; a fever of suspicion and doubt. 
 Colville is a sort of moral bull-dog, moreover, 
 and there is no more use in appealing to his 
 sense of reason than there would be in ap- 
 pealing to a deaf man's ears, or a blind man's 
 sight. The magistrate who issued this war- 
 rani Purcell, of Wexford is a blockhead 
 also, and very much under his thumb. You can 
 scarcely appreciate the nature of the charge 
 better than I do," he went on quickly ; " but, 
 surely it will not cost you much trouble to 
 prove the groundless folly I may say the in- 
 famous outrage of it ! " 
 
 " I cannot tell," said Max. " It ought to 
 be easy; but with such men as you describe, 
 who knows ? One or two points may tell 
 against me." He drew on his coat as he 
 spoke, then paused a moment ; his bronzed 
 face grew paler than it had been before, his 
 eyes were cast down, his hand went as usual 
 to the long ends of his mustache. " Who 
 knows ? " he repeated. " There are one or 
 two things which it is impossible to explnin 
 the cause of the dispute between Arthur 
 and myself, for instance." 
 
 " Was it a serious dispute ? " asked Mr. 
 Middleton, anxiously. " You will excuse the 
 question, but I should like to know." 
 
 He was interrupted by a tap at the door. 
 " Ready, sir ? " asked the constable's voice 
 en the outside. 
 
 " Yes, I am ready," answered Max. " I 
 hope I shall be able to clear myself," he said, 
 turning to Mr. Middleton; "but, if not " 
 
 " I am going along to stand by you in any 
 emergency," interrupted that gentleman. " I 
 ordered the dog-cart when I came up, and 
 we'll drive over, settle that insolent English 
 rascal, and bring Purcell to his senses, before 
 breakfast." 
 
 " You are very kind," said Max, grate- 
 fully ; but it is likely that he had his own 
 reasons for not feeling quite BO sure of ac- 
 complishing these desirable results, either 
 before breakfast or after, as Mr. Middleton 
 did. 
 
 When they went down-stairs, they found a 
 number of horses and buggies before the 
 door, and a number of men assembled in the 
 hall and portico. The whole clan were evi- 
 dently intending to follow the prisoner into 
 Wexford. There did not breathe one man 
 with soul so dead that he was not eager to 
 hear the examination. Indeed, the sensation 
 of to-day almost paled the sensation of yes- 
 terday, and the living Tyndale suddenly be- 
 came of infinitely more importance than the 
 dead one, even in the eyes of the friends and 
 kinsmen who had gathered to do the latter 
 such scant honor and reverence as it is in the 
 power of life to pay unto death. When Max 
 appeared, there was a movement which was 
 almost unanimous toward him. Men pressed 
 forward to shake his hand warmly, to express 
 indignation, sympathy, and hearty wishes for 
 his speedy release. He thanked them briefly, 
 and then, accompanied by Mr. Middleton, and 
 followed by the constable who looked de- 
 cidedly sheepish, as if he felt rather ashamed 
 of his part of the business he walked to the 
 dog-cart and sprang in. They drove off 
 rapidly, and with various degrees of speed 
 every man followed leaving only Arthur be- 
 hind, wtih the calm serenity of his face un- 
 ruffled by this paltry tumult of life. 
 
 Mr. Colville had gone on to Wexford con- 
 siderably in advance of this, and, on entering 
 the justice room, neither Max nor Mr. Mid- 
 dleton was surprised to find him in consulta- 
 tion with a tall, paunt, gray-whiskered gen- 
 tleman who was plainly the magistrate. They 
 were both sitting behind a table on which lay 
 a greasy book and some papers. Giles, look- 
 ing rather uncomfortable, was standing by a 
 window not far off, and had watched Captain 
 Tyndale's arrival. Mr. Armistead was not
 
 MAS'S DEFENSE. 
 
 191 
 
 visible ; but a dozen or so other men were 
 lounging about, or gathered into knots talk- 
 ing. Some of them were from the country, 
 others belonged to the village. These last 
 stared with undisguised interest and curiosity 
 at the prisoner, who was also the heir, as he en- 
 tered. Mr. Middleton and himself were talk- 
 ing as they came in, but they broke off before 
 any one could catch the subject of their con- 
 versation, and the former gentleman, advan- 
 cing up the room, addressed one of the minis- 
 ters of justice very unceremoniously. 
 
 " Well, Purcell," he said, " here is Captain 
 Tyndale come to see what the devil you mean 
 by such a confounded piece of folly as this." 
 
 " I am glad to make Captain Tyndale's ac- 
 quaintance," said Mr. Purcell, bowing gravely, 
 "though I should have preferred making it 
 under other circumstances. I shall be happy 
 if he is able to prove that the charge brought 
 against him is unfounded but I am sure you 
 are aware, sir " (turning to Max, who also had 
 advanced), " that a magistrate is bound to do 
 his duty, and that it would have been impos- 
 sible for me to dismiss without examination 
 such a grave charge as this which is brought 
 against you." 
 
 "Since the charge has been brought, it is 
 of course your duty to examine it," said Max. 
 " You will excuse me if I say that the sooner 
 that is done the better. I cannot defend my- 
 self until I know what is alleged against me. 1 ' 
 
 He sat down as he spoke. Every one 
 present noticed the perfect coolness of his 
 manner. Yet he knew well what was coming. 
 
 It came at once, for there was no delay in 
 the proceedings. Mr. Purcell may or may not 
 have been a blockhead, but he was at least a 
 good magistrate a man who did not waste 
 time, who knew the law passably well, and 
 who had a mind sufficiently clear to seize the 
 strong points of evidence. Giles, being sum- 
 moned, testified on oath to the circumstances 
 which he had already related to the " diffi- 
 culty " between the two cousins, to Arthur's 
 angry words and excited manner after Captain 
 Tyndale had left the house, to his having seen 
 him follow his cousin, and to having heard 
 Max return after midnight alone. When he 
 finished, Mr. Purcell turned to Captain Tyn- 
 dale and asked what he had to say in reply to 
 this strong array of circumstantial evidence. 
 
 The young man rose to his feet with no 
 trace of nervousness in his manner, though 
 his dark eyes were glowing in his pale face. 
 
 " With your permission, sir," he said, 
 quietly, " I will answer by putting a question 
 or two to this witness, who seems anxious to 
 afford some material for gossiping wonder 
 in a case so mysterious as the one under con- 
 sideration though I am sorry to be obliged 
 to bring forward a fact which otherwise need 
 not have transpired." Then, turning to Giles, 
 he continued in the same tone : 
 
 "What condition was your master in at 
 the time of the 'difficulty' you have just de- 
 scribed?" 
 
 Giles's face had fallen during the first part 
 of the foregoing sentence. Perhaps he had 
 scarcely been aware how much the motive 
 attributed to him had influenced his course of 
 action, until the idea was thus put into words. 
 It fell still more, however, at the concluding 
 interrogation. He colored, cleared his throat, 
 hesitated but Captain Tyndale's keen eye 
 was on him ; he answered at last, stammer- 
 ingly : 
 
 " He was a little he 'ad been drinking a 
 little too much, sir." 
 
 " A little too much ! Was that all ? " 
 The man looked down ; his face answered 
 the question plainly enough, but his inquisi- 
 tor demanded words. 
 "Well? "he said. 
 " He he wasn't at himself, sir." 
 Max turned to the magistrate. 
 " As I said before, I very much regret be- 
 ing compelled to bring forward a fact which I 
 should not have mentioned to any one much 
 less publicly if the necessity had not been 
 forced upon me in this way. I will now make 
 a plain statement of what has just been pre- 
 sented in a very distorted light: 
 
 " On Saturday night, at a dinner-party at 
 Mr. Middleton's, wishing to speak to my cous- 
 in, I looked through the company, both in the 
 house and on the lawn, without finding him. 
 I had observed at dinner that he was drinking 
 too mucli and afterward I noticed that his 
 face and manner both showed the effects of 
 this to one familiar with him though, to an 
 ordinary observer, he was at that time appar- 
 ently sober. As I could neither see nor hear any 
 thing of him, when I was searching for him, I 
 thought it likely he had become conscious 
 that the wine he had taken was affecting him, 
 and had therefore gone home, and I followed, 
 intending to see him for a few minutes, and 
 then return again to Rosland as I afterward 
 did it being still early in the evening.
 
 192 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF. BOHEMIA. 
 
 "I was surprised and concerned to fiiid 
 Arthur in the dining-room, with wine and 
 brandy before him. He had been drinking 
 deeply since his return home, and it soon be- 
 came evident to me that he was not in a con- 
 dition to speak rationally on any subject. I 
 made one or two efforts to talk to him ; that 
 is, to induce him to listen to what I had to 
 say; but, as he was perfectly impracticable 
 being, in fact, too much under the influence 
 of wine to know what he was doing or saying 
 I rose to go. With the folly of a drunken 
 man, he began to complain of the manner in 
 which I was treating him, and placed himself 
 before me to prevent my leaving the room. I 
 had just put him aside quietly, of course 
 and turned to the door to go, when it opened, 
 and this servant entered the room. He ac- 
 counted for the intrusion by an excuse which 
 satisfied me at the time as reasonable enough ; 
 though his subsequent conduct proves that he 
 must have been watching about for some mis- 
 chief-making purpose." 
 
 " No, sir ! " here interposed Giles, in a 
 half-deprecating, half-indignant tone. " If 
 you will allow me to speak, sir ? " he added, 
 and, Max not objecting, he went on, with some 
 excitement of manner : " It was just as I told 
 you at the time, sir. I 'ad no wish, and I 
 'aven't any now to make mischief, but I didn't 
 know what to make of there being a light in 
 the dining-room that time o' night " 
 
 " Very well," interrupted Captain Tyndale, 
 cutting short the man's flow of words, and 
 again addressing the magistrate. " I left the 
 room and strolled back to Rosland. Finding 
 it later than I had thought, I did not go into 
 the house, but, after smoking in the grounds 
 for a while, returned to Strafford, and imme- 
 diately went to bed. The next morning at 
 five o'clock I was awakened by my cousin's 
 servant, with the information that his master 
 had not returned home the night before. 
 Though rather surprised to hear this, I was 
 not alarmed until I suddenly remembered a 
 circumstance which had occurred while I was 
 in the Rosland grounds the last time ; the rec- 
 ollection of which made me a little uneasy. 
 This was the sound of a pistol-shot in the di- 
 rection of the bridge. I had attached no im- 
 portance to it at the time ; but now the more 
 I thought of Arthur's non-appearance, the 
 more strange it seemed, and I grew very un- 
 comfortable, not to say alarmed, at the idea 
 that there might be some connection between 
 
 the shot I had heard and his absence. Consid- 
 ering his condition when I parted from him, 
 there was no telling what he might have done 
 or where he might have gone. I thought it 
 not improbable that he had started to go to 
 Rosland, stopped by the way, been overcome 
 by sleep, and spent the night in the open air. 
 At all events, I could not leave Strafford as I 
 was intending to do that morning, to take the 
 train at Wexford without ascertaining what 
 had become of him ; and so I walked toward the 
 bridge, purposing, if I did not find him asleep 
 somewhere by the way, to go on to Rosland 
 and see if he were there. Before I reached the 
 bridge I met Lewis, one of the Strafford ser- 
 vants, who had just discovered his body." 
 
 His voice sank at the last words: some- 
 thing of the grief and horror he had felt at 
 the moment to which he alluded, vibrated 
 through its tones, as every one present could 
 not but observe ; and the short pause which 
 he made was unbroken. After an instant, he 
 resumed : 
 
 " These are the circumstances, which have 
 been distorted and exaggerated by my cousin's 
 servant into what you were pleased to call ' a 
 grave charge,' sir." 
 
 Again there was a short pause : Mr. Pur- 
 cell hesitated, and even looked slightly em- 
 barrassed. He had opened his lips to speak, 
 but to what effect did not appear ; since at 
 this instant Mr. Colville, who sat close beside 
 him, and who had been moving impatiently in 
 his chair, leaned over, and said a few words 
 in his ear. The magistrate's face cleared. 
 
 " You say you heard a pistol-shot while in 
 the Rosland grounds. Did the rest of the 
 company, who were in the grounds at the 
 same time, hear this shot also ? and did no one 
 express surprise fit such a circumstance, or 
 think of ascertaining what it meant ? " 
 
 "As I mentioned before, I found it later 
 than I was aware it was when I looked at 
 my watch shortly after entering the Rosland 
 grounds ; and, supposing probably that Mrs. 
 Middleton's guests were dispersing by that 
 time, I did not go on to the house, but turned 
 aside and sat down on the steps of a summer- 
 house, smoking for a while : after which I re- 
 turned to Strafford." 
 
 " You did not see any one at Rosland, 
 then? You cannot call upon any witnesses 
 to testify as to your presence there? " 
 
 " I cannot produce any witnesses," an- 
 swered Max, quietly.
 
 EVASIVE ANSWERS. 
 
 193 
 
 Mr. Purcell shook his head. " That is 
 unfortunate," he said ; adding, in a tone 
 which was equally compounded of gentle- 
 manly apology and magisterial pomposity : 
 "All men are equal in the eye of the law, and 
 in legal affairs the same formality is required 
 in all cases. However unimpeachable the 
 character of a man may be, these formalities 
 are demanded and must be complied with. I 
 am sorry to say, Captain Tyndale, that the 
 fact of your not being able to bring testi- 
 mony to prove your presence at Rosland, 
 makes a rather strong point against you in 
 law. The witness there" he pointed to 
 Giles "testifies on oath that on Saturday 
 night the night on which Mr. Tyndale came 
 to his death there occurred a difficulty 
 amounting to a personal collision between the 
 deceased and yourself; that you left the 
 house shortly afterward, and were followed 
 almost immediately by the deceased ; that he 
 the witness heard you return after mid- 
 night alone. You say yourself that you entered 
 the grounds of Rosland, but did not go to the 
 house, or see any of the company assembled ; 
 that you turned aside to a summer-house, 
 and, after some time spent in smoking, re- 
 turned to Strafford and went to bed. You say, 
 also, that, while in the grounds at Rosland, 
 you heard a pisfol-shot in the direction of the 
 bridge ; that you attached no importance to 
 the circumstance at the time, but the next 
 morning, when informed that deceased had 
 not returned home the night before, you rec- 
 ollected this shot with some uneasiness, and 
 walked toward the bridge, the direction from 
 which it had sounded. In the investigation, 
 which took place before the coroner's jury, 
 did you mention the fact of your having heard 
 this shot ? " 
 
 " I did not," said Max. " There seemed 
 no necessity for doing so ; it being evident 
 that the wound which caused my cousin's 
 death could not have been made by a pistol- 
 ball." 
 
 " I think I have understood that a pistol 
 was picked up upon the ground ? " 
 
 " You have understood correctly. A pistol, 
 belonging to my cousin himself, was found 
 by me upon the spot. Mr. Middleton was 
 present when I discovered it, and I men- 
 tioned to him that I had heard a shot the 
 night before. You remember this, I suppose, 
 Mr. Middleton?" 
 
 " Yes, certainly, " answered that gentle- 
 
 13 
 
 man, who was overcome with indignation at 
 the manner in which the magistrate was pro- 
 ceeding. 
 
 " Did it not occur to you, Captain Tyn- 
 dale, that the shot might have been fired by 
 the deceased, as it was his pistol ? " 
 
 " I did not, and do not yet, know what to 
 think about either the pistol or the shot," 
 answered Captain Tyndale, who was as thor- 
 oughly aware as the magistrate, or any one 
 present, that the evasive answers he was giv- 
 ing could not but make another " rather 
 strong point in law," against him. But what 
 could he do ? Compromise Norah he would 
 not that he was determined let what might 
 happen to himself. And, thanks to his sound 
 nerves and habitual self-control, he succeeded 
 in maintaining a composure and ease of man- 
 ner which went far to counterbalance the 
 effect of his seemingly suspicious reticence 
 not only in the opinion of the by-standers, 
 but in that of Mr. Purcell himself. Mr. Col- 
 ville, however, was. not to be hoodwinked by 
 this " military effrontery," as, in his own 
 mind, he pronounced Max's self-possession to 
 to be. Once more he leaned close to the ear of 
 the presiding magnate, and uttered a few sen- 
 tences in a low but sharp and vehement tone. 
 And once more Mr. Purcell, thus primed and 
 loaded by his leader, returned to the charge. 
 
 " You mentioned, I think, Captain Tyn- 
 dale, that it had been your intention to leave 
 Strafford on the morning following the mur- 
 der. Was this intended departure caused by 
 the altercation which had occurred between 
 Mr. Tyndale and yourself? " 
 
 At this question there was a sudden flicker 
 of haughty light in Max's dark eyes his 
 brows contracted sternly for an instant. But 
 he recovered himself almost immediately, and 
 replied as readily as ever, though perhaps 
 there was a shade of curtness now in his 
 tone: 
 
 " I cannot conceive that it rests within the 
 province of the law to inquire into a matter 
 entirely personal to myself. My motives for 
 leaving Strafford are aside from any question 
 involved in the present investigation. The 
 fact of my having made my arrangements to 
 go, may be another thing ;. and this fact I can 
 prove by my cousin's servant there." Turn- 
 ing to Giles " I presume you have not for- 
 gotten what I said to you in the hall on Satur- 
 day night, just before I went out ? " he in- 
 quired.
 
 194 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 " No, sir, " answered Giles ; " I remem- 
 ber very well what you said. You ordered 
 me to tell Anderson to have some conveyance 
 at the door to take you to Wexford in the 
 morning in time for the train ; and to be sure 
 to wake you early enough for you to get off." 
 
 " You decline, then, Captain Tyndale, to 
 answer my question as to whether there was 
 any connection between your intended depart- 
 ure from Strafford, and the difficulty which 
 you admit existed with Mr. Tyndale ? " said 
 Mr. Purcell, in a much more magisterial tone 
 than he had spoken before. 
 
 "I decline to answer a question which 
 seems to me irrelevant," was the reply. 
 
 " I must suppose, sir," said the magistrate, 
 with increasing coldness, " that you are not 
 well acquainted with the laws in force here 
 I understand you are a foreigner or you 
 would be aware that any circumstance, bear- 
 ing the most remote connection with a case 
 of this kind, and likely to throw light upon it, 
 is legitimate subject of legal investigation. It 
 is in virtue of this fact that I must request 
 you to explain the nature and subject of your 
 conversation with Mr. Tyndale on the night 
 before his death." 
 
 " That I absolutely decline to do," an- 
 swered Max, quietly, but very decidedly. " I 
 can only say that it related to a matter of 
 business about which my cousin had con- 
 sulted me, and which did not in the slightest 
 degree concern myself." 
 
 There was a pause. Then the magistrate 
 said : 
 
 " I recommend you to reconsider your 
 reply." 
 
 " That is impossible," the young man an- 
 swered in the same tone as before." 
 
 " In that case I have no further questions 
 to ask," said the mngistrate, after exchang- 
 ing a few words with his coadjutor. "It 
 only remains for me to perform what, I assure 
 you, sir, is a very painful duty." 
 
 With this preface, he proceeded to reca- 
 pitulate the evidence in the case ; beginning 
 with the charge brought against Captain Tyn- 
 dale by Giles, pointing out the train of cir- 
 cumstantial evidence upon which this charge 
 rested; dwelling on Captain Tyndale's. in- 
 ability to produce any proofs, or make any 
 explanations to exonerate himself from sus- 
 picion ; and ending by committing him to 
 prison to await the action of the grand-jury. 
 
 At this stage of the proceedings the jus- 
 
 tice-room became a scene of no small com- 
 motion and excitement. There was a general 
 murmur of dissatisfaction ; a large majority 
 of those present having already arrayed them- 
 selves as partisans on the side of Max. It 
 was true that they knew him very slightly 
 many of them not at all. But there was 
 something in the man himself which excited 
 confidence and sympathy ; while the fact of 
 his being a stranger added to the latter feel- 
 ing. As for Mr. Middleton, his wrath ex- 
 ploded in a burst of passionate invective 
 against the magistrate and his "wire-puller," 
 as he denominated Mr. Colville, the like of 
 which he had not been guilty of indulging for 
 years. There is nothing more true than that 
 it is good-natured, equable-tempered people 
 who are always most violent when once roused. 
 This gentleman, usually so mild and cour- 
 teous, was, upon the present occasion, so 
 much the reverse ; and gave the two offenders 
 in question the benefit of hearing a few home 
 truths in such very plain and emphatic lan- 
 guage that several of the other gentlemen 
 present deemed it prudent to interfere as pa- 
 cificators, seeing that the said offenders (Mr. 
 Colville in especial) began to swell and red- 
 den with a passion which threatened to emu- 
 late that by which it had been excited. Max 
 himself who, whatever were his feelings, 
 still retained an unruffled demeanor out- 
 wardly was one of the principal of these 
 peace-makers. " For Heaven's sake, my dear 
 sir, don't let me be the cause of your in- 
 volving yourself in a difficulty with two such 
 men as these ! " he said, earnestly, in a low 
 tone. " Come, come, Middleton, you're rather 
 too hard on Purcell ! He can't help being a 
 fool, you know ! " whispered a friend into his 
 left ear. " You'll do a good deal more harm 
 than good," said another friend, with a warn- 
 ing shake of the head, and knitting of the 
 brows. " At this rate of going on, you'll not 
 be allowed to give bail, as I suppose you want 
 to do," cried a third into his right ear. 
 
 This last significant suggestion had an 
 immediate effect in restoring Mr. Middleton 
 to something like his accustomed manner. 
 As a matter of policy, he even tried to smooth 
 matters over a little for the wounded amour 
 proprc of Mr. Purcell, remonstrating still 
 with that gentleman, but in a different tone. 
 But remonstrances, representations, persua- 
 sion, all proved vain ; the magistrate was 
 too deeply offended by some of the stinging
 
 MR. MIDDLETON'S FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 195 
 
 truths ho had just been obliged to listen to, 
 and which had been heard and appreciated, 
 as he knew very well, by the crowd around, 
 not to be glad of an opportunity for annoy- 
 ing his assailant in turn. He was obstinately 
 deaf to all appeal from his first decision. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Middleton, at last, " I 
 suppose it is useless to say any thing more " 
 
 " Quite so," interrupted the magistrate, 
 dryly. " Constable" 
 
 " But of course you'll take bail," con- 
 tinued Mr. Middleton, quickly. " What shall 
 the amount be ? " 
 
 " Excuse me," said the magistrate, stiffly 
 (so effectually had his spleen been roused 
 that he needed no prompting or bolstering 
 from his wire-puller now), " I cannot take 
 bail in this case." 
 
 And to this resolution he adhered. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 " The thorns which I have reaped nre of the tree 
 I planted ; they have torn me, and I bleed. 
 I should have known what fruit would spring 
 from such a seed." 
 
 MR. MIDDLETOS, having shaken hands with 
 Max, and cheerfully advised him to keep up 
 his spirits, took his way home, with his own 
 spirits reduced to as low an ebb as could 
 well be the case with a gentleman who, hav- 
 ing reached mature years, knew better than to 
 allow other people's troubles to annoy him in 
 any great degree. He was a man who liked 
 to be comfortable, however, and he could not 
 help thinking that matters were in any thing 
 but a comfortable condition. There was not 
 only poor Leslie, for whom the stout fibres of 
 his heart ached, but there was Arthur cut off 
 in the very flower of his youth, and Max in a 
 position which was decidedly unpleasant, to 
 say the least of it. Then he fell to consider- 
 ing why Max was so remarkably reticent 
 with regard to that interval of time at mid- 
 night which he had affirmed that he had spent 
 in the grounds of Rosland. Some men men 
 of the Colville stamp would have regarded 
 this reticence as very suspicious ; but Mr. 
 Middleton had more knowledge of character. 
 His belief in Max's innocence was unshaken 
 indeed, it was only natural that it should 
 have been deepened by that partisanship into 
 which men are so readily beguiled, and by the 
 natural and excusable desire to see Colville 
 
 and Purcell held up to universal scorn as the 
 fools which he esteemed them. Still, he could 
 not but confess that Max's obstinate silence 
 was calculated to prejudice the public mind 
 against him. " He must have seen somebody 
 in my grounds," the puzzled gentleman 
 thought. " If he would only say who it was 
 if he would only call a witness the whole 
 charge must fall to the ground." 
 
 Full of these thoughts, he turned his 
 horse's head into the gates of Rosland. He 
 knew that he could not remain there long ; 
 that since Max was under arrest the fact 
 came back upon him now and then with the 
 actual sensation of a physical shock the ar- 
 rangements with regard to the funeral would 
 devolve upon him ; but it was impossible to 
 resist the temptation for a little rest ; besides 
 which, he knew that no one would be so well 
 able as himself to break the news of this ad- 
 ditional misfortune to his wife. As he en- 
 tered the gates, he noticed the fresh track of 
 carriage - wheels (there had been a rain the 
 night before) curving in from the road. This 
 fact seriously disquieted him, for he feared 
 that there might be visitors at the house, 
 and, in that case, he unhesitatingly made up 
 his mind to go back to Strafford at once. 
 Any thing was better than to be forced to 
 hear and to answer a stream of gossiping 
 questions. On this point, however, he was 
 reassured when he reached the door. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this ? " he said 
 to the servant who appeared, pointing with 
 his whip to the tracks so clearly apparent on 
 the damp gravel. " Is anybody here ? " 
 
 " Nobody at all, sir," was the answer. 
 " That is, I mean no company. Mrs. Sand- 
 ford and Miss Desmond's here. Mistis and 
 Miss Leslie's gone over to Strafford, in the 
 carriage, sir." 
 
 " Gone over to Strafford is it possible ! 
 When did they go ? " 
 
 " 'Bout an hour ago, sir, I reckon." 
 
 " Did you hear when they expected to be 
 back ? " 
 
 "No, sir, I didn't." 
 
 " Hum ! " Mr. Middleton paused and 
 looked meditatively at the speaker. He had 
 no intention of going to Strafford now on the 
 contrary, he was very glad that he chanced 
 to be away and an idea struck him that, 
 since he was at Rosland, he might inquire 
 whether, by any chance, anybody had seen 
 ! Max the night before, though Max was un-
 
 196 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 able to say whether or not he had seen any 
 one else. " You say Miss Desmond is in the 
 house ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 Alighting, he walked into the silent house, 
 over which an unseen pall of grief seemed to 
 hang. Singularly enough, this aspect struck 
 him much more here than at Stratford. Per- 
 haps the cause of this rested in the fact that, 
 at Strafford, there were no women, only men, 
 who, with the exception of Max and himself, 
 felt little affection, and nothing more than 
 conventional regret, for the dead. Here there 
 had been sighs, and sobs, and bitter tears. 
 Albeit the farthest iu the world from a fanci- 
 ful man, Mr. Middleton felt them in the very 
 atmosphere. He shook his head mournfully 
 as he walked into the empty sitting-room and 
 rang the bell. " Tell Miss Desmond that I 
 would like to speak to her," he said to Maria, 
 who answered it. 
 
 Having sent this message, he sat down 
 and fanned himself, hoping devoutly that 
 Mrs. Sandford might not flutter down upon 
 him from some unforeseen nook or corner. 
 He might have spared his fears. Mrs. Sand- 
 ford was at that moment in her room busily 
 engaged in writing an account of all that had 
 occurred to her friends in Alton. Little as 
 Mr. Middleton thought it, the last sensational 
 item had reached Rosland, and was at that 
 moment being chronicled as fast as pen could 
 go, with many double underscorings and ex r 
 clamatiou - points. The fair correspondent 
 had that morning debated whether she would 
 not pack her trunk, and bid adieu to a house 
 which had become any thing save an abode 
 of gayety ; but a keen desire to see " the end 
 of the matter " had for once prevailed over 
 ennui. Now she had her reward. Now it 
 would be her privilege to send this second 
 item of intelligence like an electric shock 
 into the circles of Alton society. " You can 
 imagine the state of painful excitement, the 
 terrible nervous distress that I am in," she 
 wrote, " but, of course, it is impossible for 
 mo to think of leaving dear Mrs. Middleton 
 and our poor darling Leslie, both of whom 
 seem to lean upon me." 
 
 Mr. Middleton had not long to wait for 
 Norah. He bad scarcely settled himself and 
 begun to appreciate the coolness and quiet 
 of the room, when a step sounded in the hall 
 and she stood before him in the open door. 
 As he rose she advanced, and he had time to 
 
 notice as she crossed the floor how strangely 
 pale she looked not nervous, not as if slio 
 had been weeping, not overwrought or hys- 
 terical, but simply devoid of all 'color, and 
 consequently wholly unlike herself in appear- 
 ance. 
 
 " Is it true ? " she said, as she came near 
 him speaking before he could utter a word 
 " is it true that Captain Tyndale has been 
 arrested on a charge of of having caused his 
 cousin's death ? " 
 
 " I am sorry to say that it is quite true," 
 Mr. Middleton answered, surprised at being 
 met by the knowledge which he meant to im- 
 part. " He has not only been arrested, but 
 the examination is over, and, thanks to a pair 
 of obstinate, dunderheaded fools, he has been 
 committed " 
 
 " Committed?" 
 
 " To jail for trial. They absolutely went 
 so far as to refuse bail." 
 
 Norah uttered a cry it was her first, so 
 she may be pardoned and sank into a chair 
 which chanced to be near by. There was 
 nothing of affectation in this, her limbs abso- 
 lutely refused to support her. She put her 
 hands to her face and shuddered. Strong and 
 brave as she was, her nerves and her heart 
 both gave way. Arrested ! committed ! It 
 seemed too terrible to believe ! 
 
 " It is astonishing with what rapidity bad 
 news travels ! " said Mr. Middleton, in a vexed 
 tone. He thought her nervous and theatrical, 
 and felt more than half sorry that he had sent 
 for her. " May I ask how this information 
 reached you ? and have my wife and Leslie 
 heard it ? " 
 
 " It reached us through a servant who was 
 at Strafford," answered Norah, looking up. 
 " Yes, Mrs. Middleton and Leslie have both 
 heard it. It was because they heard it be- 
 cause the servant told them that every one at 
 Strafford had gone to Wexford that they 
 went over there. Leslie insisted upon going, 
 and Mrs. Middleton thought it best to take 
 advantage of the house being empty." 
 
 " It was very well tljat she did ! " said Mr. 
 Middleton, who was heartily glad that he had 
 gone to Wcxford. There was scarcely any 
 place, indeed, to which he would not have 
 gone to escape the pain of being under the 
 same roof that witnessed Leslie's last parting 
 with her dead love. 
 
 " This is a bad case for Tyndale," he said, 
 after a minute, " though he has his own ob-
 
 NORAH'S STORY. 
 
 19? 
 
 stinacy to thank, as well as the folly of others. 
 He admits that he was in the grounds here 
 at midnight which was about the time that 
 poor Arthur was killed, as near as we can 
 tell but he either can't or won't give the 
 name of any person whom he saw or talked 
 with ; so that his own admission tells against 
 him. I confess that I don't understand it ! " 
 said he, in a half-annoyed, half-puzzled tone. 
 " I can't believe that he was the person who 
 had that struggle with Arthur at the bridge, 
 and yet his silence is inclining people to sus- 
 pect him who never thought of doing so at 
 first." 
 
 " You mean, then, that he acknowledges 
 lie was here in these grounds at mid- 
 night ? " said Norah, in a voice which scarce- 
 ly sounded like her own, so tense and sharp- 
 ened was it. 
 
 " Yes, he acknowledges it. He had no 
 option, indeed, about doing so the servant's 
 evidence proved that he left Strafford, and 
 that Arthur followed him. What took him 
 out at that hour of the night he won't say, 
 however. It is a queer business altogether," 
 said Mr. Middleton, summing it up sharply. 
 " The more I think of it, the queerer it seems. 
 If I had chosen to volunteer my evidence, 
 and say that the guests here had all left be- 
 fore he could have got back according to 
 Giles's statement of the time he left Strafford 
 it would have made the matter still more 
 suspicious. As it is, I cannot conceive what 
 he did with himself that he is so loath to 
 tell." 
 
 As he ceased speaking, silence fell a si- 
 lenee in which he might almost have heard 
 the quick breathing of the girl near him. 
 She put her hand to her throat, where some- 
 thing seemed choking her. As in a mirror 
 she saw all the array of merciless conse- 
 quences that must follow if she opened her 
 lips, and said, " He came to meet me." Yet, 
 it must not be supposed that she was silent 
 because she hesitated to say it. She was si- 
 lent literally because she could not speak. 
 Such a host of emotions assailed her that she 
 felt like one whose breath is taken away in 
 the whirl of a great tempest. Foremost 
 among these was amazement amazement 
 that Max should endure arrest, suspicion, im- 
 prisonment, should face the thought of all 
 that might ensue, sooner than utter words 
 which might throw a shadow on her name. 
 To understand the light in which Norah re- 
 
 garded this which Max took to be a very plain 
 and simple rule of honor, it must be remem- 
 bered that she had spoken according to the 
 stern letter of the truth when she said that, 
 though admiration and love had been freely 
 offered her in the course of her life, consider- 
 ation and that chivalry of respect which is 
 the flower of courtesy, had rarely, if ever, 
 come within the range of her experience. 
 " What is my good name to him, that he 
 should guard it ? " she thought, with such a 
 rush of supreme gratitude that, at that mo- 
 ment, she even forgave him the words which 
 he would " never have spoken to Leslie." 
 
 "I did not know that you had heard the 
 news of the arrest," Mr. Middleton said, while 
 she still remained silent still gasped for 
 breath, still felt that, if she tried to speak, 
 she would probably disgust and shock her lis- 
 tener by bursting into tears " so I thought I 
 would come in and tell you, since Mrs. Mid- 
 dleton is not here. Do you know, by-the-by, 
 how long she is to remain at Strafford ? " 
 
 " No," answered Norah. It cost her such 
 an effort to articulate the word that it came 
 out with a force which was almost equivalent 
 to a moral cannon-ball startling Mr. Middle- 
 ton not a little. He looked at her suspicious- 
 ly. What ailed the girl ? He noticed again 
 that she was deathly pale, and that her lips 
 quivered. He began to be afraid of hysterics. 
 He extended his hand, and grasped his hat, 
 which was on a table near by. 
 
 " I have a good deal of business," he said, 
 hastily. " I think I better" 
 
 " Be going," he would have said, if Norah 
 had not suddenly risen, and, in so doing, 
 barred his way. Her great eyes burned steady 
 and lustrous in her white face. There was no 
 faltering or hesitation now. 
 
 " If you can spare a few minutes longer," 
 she said, " I wish you would be kind enough 
 to tell me what I nmst do how I must give 
 my evidence. / know what Captain Tyndale 
 did in the grounds here that night." 
 
 " You know!" repeated Mr. Middleton, 
 amazed. " Why, how on earth do you know ? " 
 
 " Because he came to meet me," she an- 
 swered. " Because he did meet me, and we 
 spent some time an hour, perhaps on the 
 steps of the summer-house. We were sitting 
 there together, when we heard the report of 
 the pistol, which was found near Arthur Tyn- 
 dale's body." 
 
 " God bless my soul ! " said Mr. Middleton.
 
 198 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 He was so astounded that he sat down again 
 in the chair from which he had risen. " Is it 
 possible?" he said, after a minute. "Are 
 you really in earnest in telling me this ? " 
 
 " I am perfectly in earnest," she answered 
 a sudden flush, like the hectic spot of fever, 
 coming into her cheeks. "Do you think I 
 would say such a thing if it were not true ? 
 What reason could I have for doing so? 
 Surely you must see that Max Tyndale has 
 been silent in order to spare me. He has 
 borne this suspicion rather than involve me, 
 rather than drag my name into such a matter. 
 But he thinks more of me than I think of 
 myself ! " she cried, passionately. " No earth- 
 ly consideration could make me accept such 
 a sacrifice. Sir Mr. Middleton tell me 
 where to go, and what to do, and I will do it 
 this minute ! " 
 
 "Sit down, and be quiet," said Mr. Mid- 
 dleton. " That is the best thing you can do 
 at present. Neither the magistrates nor Tyn- 
 dale are likely to run away. Now tell me 
 what is the meaning of this ? Why should he 
 have come to meet you, at midnight, in the 
 grounds, when you could see him at any hour 
 of the day in the house ? " 
 
 Then it was face to face with this in- 
 quiry, and the keen eyes enforcing it that 
 Norah felt the consequences of her disclosure. 
 How could she say what she must say, how 
 could she explain what must be explained, 
 without telling the whole story of Arthur's 
 deception ? It would have been hard to do 
 this at any time ; but it seemed doubly hard 
 now that he was dead, now that he could 
 utter never another word in his own defense. 
 It seemed cowardice to assail the dead ; but, 
 then, might not mercy to the dead mean in- 
 justice to the living ? Max was already suf- 
 fering from Arthur's fault ; should he suffer 
 still more ? This thought ended her doubt. 
 Mr. Middleton saw the lines of her face settle 
 into determination, the lips brace themselves 
 for a second, the drooping lids lift. He was 
 a man, though an elderly one, and the mute 
 though proud appeal of her eyes touched him 
 before she spoke. 
 
 " It is a long story, and not a pleasant 
 one," she said ; " but, if you wish to hear it 
 if it is necessary for you to hoar it I am 
 ready to tell it. But I warn you beforehand 
 that it will make you think bitterly of him 
 that is dead of him who can never speak in 
 his own defense acrain." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Mr. Middle- 
 ton. He felt bewildered, and yet something 
 like a gleam of light shot athwart the cloud 
 of puzzled doubt which surrounded him. His 
 brows bent, a spark of angry light came into 
 his eyes. Had Arthur Tyndale forgotten his 
 honor and his faith far enough to let this 
 fair-faced siren make a fool of him ? Had he 
 been going to meet her when he met his death ? 
 " What do you mean ? " he repeated, sternly. 
 " Whatever it is, you must explain." At that 
 moment he had neither respect nor compas- 
 sion for her in his heart. 
 
 But, as she read his thoughts, her color 
 rose, her eyes began to glow, the majesty of 
 bearing, which chiefly made her beauty so un- 
 like that of other women, came back to her. 
 She looked at him like a queen one born to 
 rule, by right divine, over the great realm of 
 hearts. 
 
 " I mean this," she said, " that, when Max 
 Tyndale came to meet me on Saturday night, 
 he did not come on his own behalf, nor with 
 regard to any thing which concerned himself; 
 he came in the cause of the man of whose 
 murder he stands accused, the man who was 
 engaged to me before he ever knew Leslie 
 the man whose letters are in my possession 
 now to prove that I speak the truth." 
 
 " Engaged to you ! " repeated Mr. Middle- 
 ton. Astonishment stupefied him. "Do you 
 do you know what you are saying ? " 
 
 "It was about those letters, which Arthur 
 was anxious to recover, that Captain Tyndale 
 came to me," Norah went on, with resistless 
 impetuosity. "I had agreed to surrender 
 them ; but I wanted not unnaturally, you 
 may think some guarantee of good faith on 
 his part, some proof that he would not return 
 my generosity by slander. Perhaps you are 
 not aware that men do such things sometimes, 
 even fine gentlemen such as Arthur Tyndale 
 was." Her voice dropped over the last 
 word ; it seemed as if, in the midst of the old 
 bitterness, a thrill of remembrance came to 
 her that he of whom she spake now only 
 " was." There was a short pause ; then she 
 resumed more quietly: "All of this I can 
 prove, if you care for proof. But it is not of 
 these things I wish to speak. It was of Cap- 
 tain Tyndale. I want you to understand why 
 he came to meet me ; I want you to believe 
 that he had no personal reason for desiring to 
 see me. It was as entirely a matter of busi- 
 ness with him as if / went to see my banker
 
 THE MIDNIGHT INTERVIEW. 
 
 199 
 
 supposing that I had one. So it seems 
 hard that he should suffer, does it not ? And 
 I how much of this will I need to tell ? Sure- 
 ly not the whole, for Leslie's sake, and even 
 for his sake who is dead." 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " said Mr. Middleton. 
 " How can I tell ? Give me a minute to think 
 to take it in ! I never liked him ; but to 
 suspect him of such dishonorable conduct as 
 this never occurred to me never for an in- 
 stant ! The false-hearted scoundrel !" said 
 he, grinding his teeth, and forgetting for a 
 moment what stupendous gulf silencing all 
 speech, ending all wrong lay between him- 
 self and the man of whom he spoke. 
 
 " He was not so false as weak, I think," 
 said Xorah, gravely. "But it does not matter 
 now. Leslie has forgiven him " 
 
 " Does Leslie know ? " interrupted he, 
 quickly, almost fiercely. " Surely you had 
 humanity enough not to tell her this story ? " 
 
 " I told her the truth when I found that 
 she had heard a garbled falsehood, which was 
 worse than the truth," Norah answered and 
 the dignity of her manner impressed, even if 
 it did not convince her listener " I told it to 
 her on that night, after I came in from the 
 shrubbery. I had no alternative. Mrs. Sand- 
 ford had overheard a conversation, and so 
 knew enough to make mischief. This mis- 
 chief she made. Again I repeat, that her 
 garbled falsehood was even worse than the 
 truth." 
 
 "But," said Mr. Middleton, with gathering 
 indignation in his eyes and in his voice, "she 
 could never have overheard any thing, she 
 could never have found any thing, she would 
 never have been able to make mischief, if 
 you had not put it in her power to do so ! 
 Do you think that it was honorable conduct 
 to come here with such a secret as this in 
 your possession, Miss Desmond ? If you 
 knew any thing to Mr. Tyndale's discredit, 
 and wished to break off your sister's engage- 
 ment, it would have been honest to write and 
 warn her. But to come here to hold inter- 
 course to write letters to meet him clan- 
 destinely nothing can justify it ! " 
 
 " I know that now," said Xorah. " I rec- 
 ognize it as fully as you can do. But I 
 well, I knew no better. I have lived a 
 more vagrant and hap-hazard life than you 
 can well imagine," said she, looking at him 
 with something half pathetic in her eyes. 
 " Nobody ever taught me any thing. I 
 
 have had only my own instincts and impulses 
 to guide me, and it is not strange that I 
 a girl of nineteen have been sometimes 
 guided wrongly. I am sorry, very sorry, that 
 I came to make trouble in your home as I 
 have done but I promise you that I will not 
 stay any longer than it is necessary for me to 
 do in order to clear the name of an innocent 
 man. Oh, sir," she clasped her hands and 
 leaned toward him with great crystal drops 
 drops which did not fall standing in her 
 eyes, "don't think of me just now. Re- 
 strain your indignation for a little while, and 
 think of Captain Tyndale. Where must I 
 go, what must I do, to give my evidence for 
 him ? " 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " said Mr. Middleton, 
 irritated, exasperated, and yet touched. " Try 
 to be a little reasonable ! Women can be 
 reasonable sometimes, I suppose if they 
 try ! Did I say any thing about about want- 
 ing you to go ? " (The words nearly choked 
 him, for he would have said any thing in the 
 world sooner.) " I said that it was a pity 
 you came with this secret in your possession, 
 unless you came to give an open, honest 
 warning to your sister. However, that is 
 over, and we are not likely to gain any thing 
 by going back upon it. You want to know 
 what you must do now to give your evidence 
 for Tyndale. Well, it is a disagreeable ne- 
 cessity, and one which will make any amount 
 of scandal and gossip, but you must go with 
 me to Wexford and testify to the fact that he 
 was in the grounds with you, before the magis- 
 trates who committed him like a couple 
 of fools as they are ! " 
 
 " To Wexford '.must /go ? " said Norah. 
 She shrank back piteously, and covered her 
 face with her hands. A terrible, cowardly 
 instinct said, " Why did you not keep silence, 
 and this need not have been ? " A vision 
 of all the scandal and gossip of which he 
 spoke rose up before her. How could she 
 meet it court it, as it were ? 
 
 " You must certainly go, unless you mean 
 to let that poor fellow suffer all the conse- 
 quences of what you say was no fault of his," 
 answered Mr. Middleton, dryly. " I am as 
 loath to advise such a thing as you can be to 
 do it, for it will let loose a thousand tongues 
 like so many hounds upon you, upon Leslie, 
 upon all of us ; but there is no alternative. 
 Processes of law are not enacted in the cor- 
 ners of drawing-rooms. Young ladies have
 
 200 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 to pay heavy penalties sometimes for appoint- 
 ing midnight interviews in the grounds." 
 
 His tone roused Xorah more quickly than 
 any thing else could have done. Her hands 
 dropped, and she looked up. The short-lived 
 color had ebbed from her face ; it was pale 
 again and very firm. In that moment, 
 " strength came to her that equaled her de- 
 sire." She put the weakness, which had al- 
 most conquered her, down, and set her foot 
 upon it. 
 
 " You are right," she said her voice was 
 as clear and steady as the notes drawn from 
 a violin by a master's hand " the conse- 
 quences of what has happened must fall 
 where they belong, and they certainly do not 
 belong to Captain Tyndale, whose only fault 
 is that he has served his friends too well. I 
 am ready to go with you at once. After all, 
 what is my name worth, that I should guard 
 it so tenderly ? Less than nothing if, by 
 bringing a shadow on it, I can clear one en 
 which no shadow belongs ! " 
 
 " In talking that way, I do not think you 
 realize at all " Mr. Middleton began, shocked 
 by the recklessness which was ready to sac- 
 rifice even that which women in general hold 
 to be worth more than life. But, as he spoke, 
 a figure stood in the open door, the appear- 
 ance of which hushed the words on his lips. 
 
 It was Leslie, with the long veil which she 
 wore thrown back from her fair face a face 
 which the majesty of sorrow lifted into a 
 nobler beauty than it had ever known before. 
 It was but an instant that she stood there 
 framed like a beautiful and touching picture 
 to their sight then, seeing that the room 
 was not empty as she had imagined, she 
 turned, without a word, and passed across 
 the hall and up to the staircase, her head 
 drooping a little, but her whole bearing other- 
 wise unchanged. 
 
 Though she had come and gone so swiftly 
 and so noiselessly, her appearance, which had 
 broken the thread of their conversation, 
 seemed to come with a certain strange appeal 
 to both of them. It seemed to plead for gen- 
 tle thoughts and merciful silence toward him 
 whom she mourned, him from whose dead 
 presence she had come. " We must think 
 of her ! " Mr. Middleton muttered ; and, as 
 he spoke, his wife entered the room. 
 
 " Are you here, George ? " she said, with 
 a gleam of pleasure coming over her sad, 
 weary face. " How glad I am of it ! I have 
 
 just been making myself doubly miserable by 
 thinking how worn-out and worried you must 
 be ! Are you not tired to death, dear ? " she 
 asked, laying one hand on his shoulder as 
 she reached his side. It was a gesture full 
 of tenderness, and as near a caress as Mrs. 
 Middleton would have permitted herself in the 
 presence of a third person. 
 
 " I suppose I am," said George, taking the 
 hand into his own, " but I have not had time 
 to think about it. One thing has followed 
 so fast on another. Sit down, Mildred : I 
 have a great deal to say to you, and you are 
 just in time. Miss Desmond tells me that 
 you have heard of Tyndale's arrest ? " 
 
 "Is it true, then ? Servants have such u 
 singular capability for distorting facts, that 
 I never know what to believe, that comes 
 through them but they were all very posi- 
 tive about it at Strafford." 
 
 "It is unfortunately quite true. He has 
 been arrested, examined, and committed to 
 prison by those pillars of law and wisdom, 
 Colville and Purcell." 
 
 "0 George, is it possible? how ter- 
 rible ! What grounds are there for such a 
 charge ? " 
 
 " Scant enough grounds, but it is astonish- 
 ing what a number of blockheads there are 
 in the world. / knew all the time that the 
 whole charge was absurd, but because he was 
 not able or, rather, because he would not 
 saj' exactly what he was doing at midnight in 
 my grounds, they committed him to jail." 
 
 " At midnight ! but what teas he doing at 
 midnight here ? " exclaimed Mrs. Middleton. 
 "Every one had gone home some time before 
 that, and Captain Tyndale I was sure I was 
 certainly under the impression left early in 
 the evening ! " 
 
 Mr. Middleton looked at Norah. Now 
 was her time to speak. But what woman has 
 not felt what Norah felt then, that it is easier 
 to make almost any cause good to a man 
 than to a woman? She flushed and paled as 
 she felt her hostess's glance follow her hus- 
 band's and rest on her face. But, if the ex- 
 planation must be given, it might as well bo 
 given at once. That thought nerved her to 
 return the look of the cold eyes bent on her, 
 and say : 
 
 " Captain Tyndale did leave the grounds 
 early in the evening ; but he came back to 
 meet me." 
 
 The audacity of this assertion almost took
 
 MRS. HIDDLETON'S INDIGNATION. 
 
 201 
 
 Mrs. Middleton's breath away. " To meet 
 you, Miss Desmond at midnight ! Is it pos- 
 sible that I hear you aright ? " 
 
 " You certainly hear me aright, madam, 
 though you may%ot understand me," Norah 
 answered. " I repeat that Captain Tyndale 
 came to meet me, that he was sitting with me 
 on the steps of the summer-house when we 
 were startled by hearing a pistol-shot, and 
 that he was with me for some time afterward 
 facts which prove conclusively that he 
 could not have been the assailant of his 
 cousin." 
 
 "They may prove that," said Mrs. Middle- 
 ton, with icy coldness, " but you must excuse 
 me if I say that they also prove that you have 
 very little idea of decorum. You are a young 
 lady in my house and under my care, Miss 
 Desmond, therefore I have a right to say 
 indeed it is my duty to say that such con- 
 duct as this is totally opposed to any code of 
 propriety with which I am acquainted." 
 
 " That may very readily be," said Norah. 
 " But it is enough for me that I hold the 
 necessary evidence for clearing the name of 
 an innocent man a man who came to meet 
 me, not, as you may imagine, madam, because 
 he wished to flirt with me, but because he 
 was anxious to serve the interests of his 
 cousin and of Leslie." 
 
 " And pray may I ask," said Mrs. Middle- 
 ton, haughtily, " what possible concern there 
 was between a midnight interview with your- 
 self and the interests of Mr. Tyndale and 
 Leslie?'' 
 
 " More than you imagine, perhaps," was 
 the reply. " More than I like to remember, 
 for it is the bitterest memory of my life that 
 I was once engaged to Arthur Tyndale." 
 
 " You ! " said Mrs. Middleton with a gasp. 
 She could say no more. If she had not been 
 the thorough-bred woman that she was, she 
 would have said, "It is false!" As it was, 
 her look said it for her, and Norah caught 
 that look. 
 
 " I see that you do not believe me," she 
 said. " Fortunately, your belief is not a mat- 
 ter of any importance. If it were, proofs, 
 and to spare, are ready to my hand. Mr. 
 Tyndale's letters are still in my possession, 
 though it was to return them that I met Cap- 
 tain Tyndale on Saturday night. I am dull 
 on the subject of decorum, I suppose, but I 
 could certainly see no glaring impropriety in 
 turning from my last good-night to your 
 
 guests, and going to fulfill an appointment 
 with him at the summer-house in order to 
 speak without interruption on a matter which 
 in reality concerned either of us very little. 
 I was willing to relinquish Mr. Tyndale's 
 letters relics as they were of a past which 
 had lost all association save that of pain for 
 me but I should have been mad if I had 
 given them up without some pledge of good 
 faith from him. This he refused to give, 
 and so the letters are still in my possession." 
 
 "If this is all true," said Mrs. Middleton, 
 " and I I can scarcely realize that it is do 
 you appreciate how great your duplicity has 
 been ? If Mr. Tyndale was so utterly false 
 to Leslie, what were you ? What did you ex- 
 pect to gain by it ? " she cried, with a passion 
 which was totally foreign to her usual manner. 
 " You must have had an object you could 
 not have come here and made all this mischief 
 without one ! " 
 
 " I cannot enter upon my object now," 
 said Norah, putting her hand with a sudden, 
 involuntary gesture to her head. It was not 
 strange that the latter began to swim a little, 
 that she began to ask herself when and where 
 all this would end. Then she turned abruptly 
 to Mr. Middleton. " Are we not wasting 
 precious time ? " she said. " Should I not go 
 at once and give my evidence ? Surely they 
 will not refuse to hear it without delay. And 
 every hour counts with him Captain Tyn- 
 dale ! " 
 
 Before Mr. Middleton could answer, his 
 wife interposed. 
 
 " Are you mad, Miss Desmond ? " she said. 
 " Can it be possible that you think of taking 
 this this story into a court of law ? If 
 you have no regard for your own good name 
 if you have been reared so as not to know 
 that when a woman's reputation is breathed 
 upon, it is gone you might at least think of 
 Leslie, you might think of tw / It is infa- 
 mous ! it is impossible ! I have a right to 
 say that I will not allow it ! I have a right 
 to say that you shall not leave this house to 
 go and drag our names through the mire of 
 public gossip and public scandal ! " 
 
 " Madam," said Norah, firmly, " you have 
 no such right at all ! Though I have had no 
 advantages of social training, I know as well 
 as you can tell me, that when a woman's rep- 
 utation is breathed upon it is gone, and I have 
 tried hard very hard to keep mine from 
 being breathed upon ; but, even for my repu-
 
 202 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 tation's sake, I have no right to hold back 
 and be silent when the truth will clear an in- 
 nocent man. Not even for Leslie's sake, not 
 even for the sake of the dead, have I any 
 right to hesitate though I trust," she added, 
 almost wistfully, " that I may take the whole 
 burden on myself. Will it be necessary to 
 mention why I went to meet Captain Tyn- 
 dale?" she asked, turning to Mr. Middle- 
 ton. 
 
 " I do not think so," he answered, hesi- 
 tatingly " at least, I hope not. I am afraid 
 there is no help for it, Mildred," he added, 
 turning to his wife. " I feel it as much as 
 you can do, but I see no alternative. Cap- 
 tain Tyndale, like a man of honor, has re- 
 fused to say what brought him into the 
 grounds. For this silence he is now suffer- 
 ing, and since Miss Desmond knows what 
 brought him since she saw and spoke with 
 him it is only right that she should give her 
 evidence in his favor." 
 
 "Not at such a sacrifice as this," said 
 Mrs. Middleton, with a face set like granite. 
 " Captain Tyndale is a man he is able to 
 endure suspicion. But for a woman to come 
 forward and give such evidence against her- 
 selfit is beyond every thing that he could 
 ask or expect." 
 
 " There is no help for it," repeated Mr. 
 Middleton, with a sigh. Then he turned to 
 Norah. " You are right, Miss Desmond," 
 he said, coldly. " We are wasting valuable 
 time. If you will put on your bonnet, I will 
 drive you into Wexford and try to settle the 
 business at once." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 "... In her youth 
 
 There is a prone and speechless dialect, 
 Such as moves men ; besides, she hath prosper- 
 ous art 
 
 When she will play with reason and discourse, 
 And well she can persuade." 
 
 WHEN Norah went up-stairs to put on her 
 bonnet as Mr. Middleton had directed, she 
 paused in the act of doing so, and looked in- 
 tently at her face as reflected in the mirror. 
 It was paler than usual, but this paleness, in- 
 stead of detracting from its loveliness, rather 
 drew attention from the mere brilliancy of 
 coloring to the perfect outlines of the nobly- 
 cut features, to the rich, sculpturesque waves 
 
 of her chestnut hair, and the full-orbed splen- 
 dor of the eyes. Any woman might well have 
 been content with such a face, yet Norah 
 looked uncertain and dissatisfied. In truth, 
 she was wondering what affect her beauty 
 would have upon the magistrates whom she 
 expected to confront, and whether she had 
 better enhance it as a pretty woman knows 
 so well how to do or to disguise it as much 
 as possible which it would have been im- 
 possible to do in any perceptible degree. She 
 had not lived nineteen years in the world 
 without having learned to appreciate fully 
 the power which this face exercised over 
 men of all ages and all degrees. Wherever 
 she went, the sterner sex (called thus in 
 irony !) were willing and ready to do her ser- 
 vice, obdurate officials melted at a glance 
 from her eyes, no one was too high or too 
 low to refuse her the homage to which beau- 
 ty is entitled, and which it ever commands. 
 The question she now asked herself was 
 whether this beauty would tell for or against 
 Max Tyndale. Would the magistrates yield 
 their -point to her, as many men, older and 
 wiser had done before ? or would they fall 
 into the grave error of thinking that it was 
 love or admiration for her which had drawn 
 Max to Rosland on that fatal night ? In that 
 case if they once had a clew to her connec- 
 tion with Arthur Tyndale her beauty might 
 very readily work harm instead of good. 
 " Is not here a cause," they might say, " a 
 cause of strife and bloodshed old as humani- 
 ty? Need we go farther than that fair face 
 to find a reason for all that has occurred ? " 
 
 Having given this probability due weight, 
 and after mature deliberation deliberation 
 so mature, indeed, that Mr. Middleton grew 
 quite impatient below Norah, who had as 
 little vanity as any woman, short of a nun, 
 could possibly possess, decided to make her- 
 self as plain as possible. She descended, 
 therefore, in the course of the next ten min- 
 utes, wearing her traveling-bonnet, with all 
 the rich masses of her hair hidden almost en- 
 tirely from sight, and a heavy veil over her 
 face. Mrs. Middleton had disappeared. Al- 
 though she had not yielded to her husband 
 far enough to admit that this disagreeable 
 step might be a necessity, she did not choose 
 to make any further " scene " by opposing it. 
 But she had declared, very decidedly, that she 
 could not see Norah again before she left. 
 " I cannot trust myself," she averred. " I
 
 XORAH BEFORE THE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 203 
 
 do not know what I might say. There are 
 no words to express the bitterness I feel tow- 
 ard her. It was a black day for all of us 
 but especially for poor Leslie when she first 
 set her foot across this threshold. I felt it 
 then as' clearly as I know it now. Oh, why 
 do we not heed our own instincts more often 
 than we do ? They are so seldom wrong." 
 
 So it came to pass that Xorah found only 
 Mr. Middleton awaiting her. The carriage was 
 at the door. " You will be stared at enough, 
 unavoidably," he said, grimly. "I do not 
 choose for you to be stared at in any way 
 which can possibly be avoided, so I ordered 
 this." 
 
 The drive from Rosland to Wexford was 
 short under all circumstances, but it seemed 
 to Xorah now of no length at all. She would 
 gladly have drawn it out to twenty miles, so 
 much did she dread the ordeal before her, 
 but, unluckily, it was out of her power to 
 add another yard to the road over which the 
 horses trotted as gayly as if the sinking heart 
 behind had not wished them shod with lead. 
 This was when she thought of herself. When 
 she thought of Max the way seemed to length- 
 en interminably, and the horses V> creep. 
 But, although she hated herself for doing so, 
 it was natural that just at this time she 
 should think most of herself. That which 
 lay before her might well have daunted the 
 courage of the bravest woman alive for 
 bravery does not mean audacity, far less 
 shamelessness. Xorah was not afraid that 
 her courage would fail her when it was need- 
 ed, and she kept every cowardly doubt and 
 fear locked fast in her own breast; but, all 
 the same, she shrank, as any woman with a 
 woman's instincts must have done, and wished 
 unavailiugly that such a necessity might have 
 been spared her. Very little was said, either 
 by Mr. Middleton or herself, on the way. He 
 gave her a few directions with regard to the 
 manner in which it would be best for her to 
 give her testimony, and added, with a sigh 
 of relief, that he was glad she was not like- 
 ly to be nervous, or to lose her head. " Wom- 
 en usually make complete fools of them- 
 selves," he added, candidly. 
 
 As they entered Wexford he grew a little 
 nervous himself. " Purcell can refuse an- 
 other examination if he chooses," he said to 
 Xorah, " and he may do it out of spite to me. 
 I told him very plainly what I thought of his 
 conduct this mornins." 
 
 " And if he refuses," said Xorah, aghast, 
 " what then ? " 
 
 " Then we shall have to apply for a writ 
 of habeas corpus, and take him before the 
 judge of the district." 
 
 " Him ! Do you mean the magistrate ! " 
 
 " The magistrate ! " (with a laugh), " not 
 exactly. Tyndale, I mean." Then, putting 
 his head out of the window, " Drive to Mr. 
 Purcell's house," he said, to the coachman 
 adding, to Xorah, as he drew back " He is 
 more likely to be there than anywhere else 
 this time of day." 
 
 When the carriage drew up before Mr. 
 Purcell's house a pleasant, rambling, double- 
 story building, in a large grove Mr. Middle- 
 ton alighted, and told Norah to remain where 
 she was. " I'll see if he is here, and if he 
 will grant the examination," he said. " He 
 may be more reasonable when he hasn't got 
 Colville by." 
 
 " Please persuade him to do it," said Xo- 
 rah. " I know you can if you will try ! Or 
 take me along and let me try I " 
 
 " That is not necessary," said Mr. Middle- 
 ton, who did not rate as highly as he should 
 have done the valuable aid of Xorah's lovely 
 face and Xorah's eloquent tongue. So he 
 went to the house alone passing up the 
 shaded walk, across the piazza, en which were 
 several chairs and a child's rocking-horse, to 
 the "wide-open doors of the hall. Here, as 
 Xorah's keen eyes perceived, a gray-whis- 
 kered gentleman met him, and, sitting down 
 in full view, they proceeded to talk. She 
 watched them eagerly trying to gain sonic 
 idea of what they were saying from the dumb 
 show of gesture and the expression of atti- 
 tude. Passers-by on that quiet village street 
 were few, but even those few cast curious 
 glances at the beautiful face, from which the 
 disguising veil had been carelessly pushed 
 aside. For once, Xorah was unconscious of 
 either attention or admiration. What were 
 they saying? When would they have done? 
 Did the magistrate mean to grant the exami- 
 nation? These were the impatient questions 
 which filled her mind. 
 
 Suddenly an instinct came to her that the 
 magistrate did not mean to grant the exami- 
 nation. How this impression was conveyed 
 she did not know, neither did she stop to 
 doubt its accuracy. Her impatience became 
 uncontrollable, and the desire to act, which 
 was always her governing impulse, seemed to
 
 204 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 take irresistible possession of her. Before 
 she was scarcely aware of what she meant to 
 do, she had stepped from the carriage, crossed 
 the sidewalk, and opened the gate. A min- 
 ute later she was moving quickly up the over- 
 shadowed walk, conscious that the two gen- 
 tlemen were regarding her with considerable 
 surprise from the piazza. 
 
 As she ascended the steps they both rose. 
 Mr. Middleton looked annoyed as well as sur- 
 prised. He had found Mr. Purcell very im- 
 practicable indeed, and was provoked that 
 Norah should have come forward in this un- 
 necessary manner. 
 
 " I am afraid I have kept you waiting 
 some time, Miss Desmond," he said, stiffly. 
 Then, turning to the magistrate, he added : 
 " This is the witness of whom I spoke. Miss 
 Desmond, let me introduce Mr. Purcell." 
 
 ' I came in to see Mr. Purcell," said No- 
 rah, in her frank, clear voice. She declined 
 by a gesture the chair which Mr. Purcell 
 hastened to ofler. He, on his part, was as 
 much struck by her beauty as she could have 
 desired, and felt an involuntary softening of 
 bis resolution, if not of his heart. He had 
 not looked for any thing so interesting as this 
 dazzling young lady. Mr. Middleton had 
 spoken of a witness, but he had entered into 
 no particulars, and Mr. Purcell, having his 
 pride and obstinacy both in arms, had de- 
 clined to grant another examination. Now 
 he began to feel a little curiosity to hear 
 what the witness had to say, and Norah did 
 not leave him long in doubt on this point. 
 
 " It is likely that I am very presumptuous 
 in fancying that I may be able to influence 
 you more than Mr. Middleton," she said, with 
 a smile that nearly took the worthy magis- 
 trate's breath away; "but I could not remain 
 quiet when so much depends on your deci- 
 sion, and I have come to say that I hope you 
 will grant the examination. Surely " (look- 
 ing at him with anxious, wistful deprecation) 
 " you have not refused to do so ? " 
 
 " I I have been telling Mr. Middleton 
 that I really I cannot see why I should do 
 so," answered Mr. Purcell, stammering like a 
 school-boy. " It was in Captain Tyndale's 
 power to have brought forward any evidence 
 which he desired to produce, and he not only 
 refused to do so, but his refusal was given in 
 a very curt and contemptuous manner. There- 
 fore, I cannot see " 
 
 " Shall I tell you why he refused ? " inter- 
 
 rupted Norah, with her eyes glowing like two 
 stars. " It was because he did not wish to 
 bring me into notoriety, as a witness in his 
 favor ! it was because he would not shield 
 himself by throwing the least shadow on a 
 woman's name. I was with Captain Tyndale 
 during the time that he was in the Rosland 
 grounds, Mr. Purcell, and, although he did 
 not choose to summon me as a witness, I have 
 come to testify on his behalf. Do you mean 
 to tell me that you are going to refuse to hear 
 my evidence ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," answered Mr. Purcell, 
 promptly. " I of , course, this alters the 
 state of the case entirely. If it was a natural 
 and commendable reluctance to drag you into 
 such a matter which made Captain Tyndale 
 refuse to summon you as a witness, it is pos- 
 sible for me to stretch a point, and have an- 
 other examination of the case. Usually, how- 
 ever," turning to Mr. Middleton, with an evi- 
 dent desire to save his credit, " this would be 
 quite irregular. After the prisoner has been 
 committed, the only proper way to procure 
 another examination is by means of a writ of 
 habeas corpus, issued by " 
 
 " I know all about that," said Mr. Middle- 
 ton, impatiently. " But it is only a hem ! 
 exceptional magistrate who adheres so rigidly 
 to the letter of the law. There's latitude in 
 these things, Purcell great latitude. But, 
 since you have finally decided in favor of the 
 examination, suppose that we have it over at 
 once ? It is an unpleasant business to Miss 
 Desmond under any circumstances, and the 
 sooner it is done the less attention it will cre- 
 ate." 
 
 Mr. Purcell made no difficulty about this. 
 He suddenly became as obliging as possible 
 so obliging, indeed, that Mr. Middleton felt 
 that he had made a great mistake and lost 
 much time in not bringing Norah forward at 
 once. If the truth had been known, how- 
 ever, he would have learned that the worthy 
 magistrate was not only fired with chivalric 
 gallantry by Norah's exquisite face, but he 
 was also burning with curiosity to learn 
 as it would be his "duty" to do what part 
 in the tragedy she had played ; for, alas ! 
 Norah's misgivings were true. Mr. Purcell 
 had already settled in his own mind what 
 her role had probably been. This was the 
 ill turn which that delusion and snare, called 
 beauty, did for her. 
 
 They drove at once to the justice-room,
 
 MISS DESMOND'S TESTIMONY. 
 
 205 
 
 and the prisoner was sent for. His first re- 
 quest when left alone had been for pen and 
 paper, and he was writing a letter to Norah 
 when the sheriff came for him. In this letter 
 he had forcibly stated the reasons why she 
 shoald keep silence with regard to having 
 met him on that fatal night, and it may be 
 imagined, therefore, that his surprise and 
 consternation were great when he entered 
 the justice-room, where the first person whom 
 he saw was Norah, sitting by Mr. Middleton. 
 He uttered an exclamation, and would have 
 walked up to her immediately, if the magis- 
 trate had not interfered. 
 
 "Excuse me, Captain Tyndale, but I must 
 ask you to defer speaking to the witness until 
 after she has given her testimony. I have 
 been induced to relax my usual rules and 
 grant your case another investigation, be- 
 cause I have been informed that she has im- 
 portant evidence to offer in your behalf " 
 
 " I think there is some mistake," inter- 
 rupted Max, impetuously. " Miss Desmond 
 knows nothing it is impossible that she can 
 know any thing bearing at all upon what you 
 are good enough to call my ' case ; ' in other 
 words, the death of my cousin." 
 
 "Miss Desmond is certainly the best 
 judge of what she knows," answered the 
 magistrate. He had no liking for this brusque 
 young soldier, and did not hesitate to show 
 as much. " Be good enough to sit down and 
 keep quiet, sir. Miss Desmond, I am ready 
 to hear your evidence." 
 
 Then Norah, who had not spoken to Max 
 who, indeed, had not done more than barely 
 give one glance at him as he entered ad- 
 vanced to the ta^le, behind which the magis- 
 trate was sitting. Despite Mr. Middleton's 
 anxiety to get the thing over and keep it 
 quiet, the news of another examination had 
 spread, and a considerable number of sight- 
 seers had followed in the train of the sheriff 
 and prisoner. From lip to lip the intelligence 
 had passed that Mr. Middleton had brought 
 in a lady to give evidence a young lady, a 
 pretty lady, those who had seen her in the 
 carriage at Mr. Purcell's gate averred there- 
 fore the justice-room was filled in an almost 
 incredibly short space, and Norah faced quite 
 an audience when she rose. 
 
 Then it was that the training of her life 
 stood her in good stead. If her beauty, when 
 she threw back her veil, sent a thrill through 
 all present, the supreme dignity and grace of 
 
 her bearing her perfect self-possession and 
 complete unconsciousness astonished them 
 still more. As for Max, he held his breath as 
 he looked at her. He was enraged enraged 
 that she should causelessly (as he thought) 
 draw down upon herself all the comment, the 
 certain gossip and possible scandal, which 
 would ensue: but he was also fascinated so 
 deeply that for a minute he forgot the pres- 
 ence of every one but herself. He wondered 
 that he had never seen before the grandeur 
 that dwelt in those perfect features, the brave, 
 strong, dauntless soul which looked out of the 
 lustrous eyes. In a position where almost 
 any girl would have trembled, and blushed, 
 and faltered for not another's woman's face 
 was in the crowded room she stood like a 
 princess, with no deepening flush of color on 
 her fair face, no quiver of self-consciousness 
 in her manner. 
 
 Having taken the necessary oath, she 
 made her statement in a voice which was dis- 
 tinctly audible to every one present her 
 clear, pure enunciation serving instead of any 
 elevation of tone. 
 
 " On Saturday night," she said, " there 
 was a dinner-party at Mr. Middleton's. I 
 think it must have been about ten o'clock 
 that Captain Tyndale came up to me as I was 
 sitting on the lawn, and told me that he had 
 been looking for his cousin, but that, not being 
 able to find him among the guests, he thought 
 it likely that he had gone back to Strafford. 
 He intended to follow him, he said, in order 
 to speak on a matter of business ; and he 
 asked me since I, also, had some connection 
 with this business if I could not see him 
 if he came back to Rosland afterward. I 
 thought that the company would probably 
 not be dispersed by that time, and I agreed 
 to do so telling him that I would meet him 
 at a summer-house in the grounds at half- 
 past eleven o'clock. At that hour the last of 
 the guests were taking leave most of them 
 saying that they could not stay later because 
 it was Saturday night and it chanced that 
 nobody observed me when I entered the 
 shrubbery to keep my appointment with Cap- 
 tain Tyndale. I found him waiting for me 
 at the summer-house, and the first thing 
 which he told me was that his cousin had 
 been drinking so deeply that he was quite 
 impracticable, and had refused absolutely to 
 listen to him. We were both sorry for this, 
 and discussed it at some length. Afterward
 
 206 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 we were talking of other things, when we 
 were startled by the report of a pistol ap- 
 parently in the direction of the bridge. Cap- 
 tain Tyndale was anxious to go and see what 
 it meant, but I objected to being left alone, 
 and therefore he remained with me. Since no 
 other report followed, we did not attach much 
 importance to the shot, and soon returned to 
 the conversation which it had interrupted. 
 Not very long after this we separated. That, 
 sir, is all that I know, and I am sure it is all 
 that Captain Tyndale knows, of the murder of 
 Arthur Tyndale." 
 
 After the clear tones ceased, there was a 
 moment of dead silence. Mr. Purcell looked, 
 as he felt, embarrassed what to say. The 
 spectators held their breath and pricked their 
 ears to hear what would come next. 
 
 As the minute of suspense ended, people 
 became conscious that a gray-haired man, 
 with bushy, gray eyebrows and a short whip 
 in his hand, was pushing his way roughly 
 through the crowd to the magistrate's table. 
 This was Mr. Colville, who, by a lucky chance 
 (as he said to himself), had not left town 
 when the news of the second examination 
 reached him. He hurried at once to the jus- 
 tice-room and entered the door in time to 
 hear Koran's testimony. As he came forward 
 now, she, like every one else, turned to look 
 at him, and, although she was not aware of 
 his importance in the eyes of his neighbors 
 or of himself, she recognized at a glance that 
 he was a man of influence, and she also rec- 
 ognized that he was an obstinate believ- 
 er in Max's guilt, and a man who would be 
 proof against even the fascination of her 
 beauty. 
 
 He walked past her as if he had not seen 
 her, and addressed himself with a frowning 
 brow to the magistrate. 
 
 " I am astonished at this, Purcell really 
 astonished ! If you meant to do any thing so 
 wholly unnecessary and foolish as to grant a 
 second examination, you might at least have 
 notified me of the fact, and not assumed the 
 entire responsibility in this manner." 
 
 " I should of course have sent and notified 
 you at once, but I thought you had left town," 
 Mr. Purcell hastened to answer, in rather a 
 deprecating tone. "I I could not well 
 refuse the examination under the circum- 
 stances," he went on, lowering his voice, 
 " but I am glad to see you very glad. I 
 think you will have to take the case in hand. 
 
 Really, I am quite at a loss what to think. 
 Here's an alibi proved very plainly." 
 
 "Nothing of the sort," said Mr. Colville, 
 in his hard, rasping voice. " The young lady 
 merely asserts that Captain Tyndale met her 
 at midnight in Mr. Middleton's grounds- for 
 what purpose she does not state but this 
 fact does not at all exonerate him from the 
 charge against 'him. The murder may have 
 occurred at any time between midnight and 
 daylight," 
 
 . Mr. Middleton and Max both rose on the 
 same impulse to speak, but, before any words 
 could escape from the lips of either, Norah's 
 clear voice sounded. 
 
 " There is one point in my evidence which, 
 in making such an assertion, you certainly 
 overlook, sir. I have distinctly testified on 
 oath that Captain Tyndale and myself heard 
 a shot, which effectually proves when Mr. 
 Tyndale was assailed since I have under- 
 stood that a discharged pistol was found near 
 the scene of the struggle." 
 
 A lawyer could not have made this point 
 more neatly, and so Mr. Colville felt. He 
 first stared and then colored. In his zeal he 
 had overlooked that fact, and it would have 
 been disagreeable enough to be reminded of 
 it by anybody, but by a girl it was intoler- 
 able ! 
 
 " You attach more importance to that 
 point than it deserves," he said, sharply. 
 " The pistol which was found had no ap- 
 parent connection with Mr. Tyndale's death. 
 It might very readily have been placed near 
 the spot where the struggle evidently a per- 
 sonal struggle, closely resembling one which 
 Mr. Tyndale's servant testifies to having wit- 
 nessed in the house took place, in order to 
 draw off suspicion, and with a view to the 
 fact that you had heard a pistol discharged 
 in that direction at or about midnight." 
 
 Mr. Middleton and Max looked at each 
 other. " This is intolerable ! " said the lat- 
 ter between his clinched teeth ; and, regard- 
 less of consequences, he was about to step 
 forward, when the elder gentleman's hand 
 fell on his shoulder. 
 
 " Keep quiet ! " he said, though his own 
 voice was trembling with anger. " You'll only 
 do harm by making a scene. Not but that I 
 should like amazingly to knock the insolent 
 blockhead down myself! still, it is best to 
 keep quiet. I believe Miss Desmond will 
 prove a match for him anyhow."
 
 THE WHOLE TRUTH. 
 
 207 
 
 " But how on earth can you expect me to 
 stand by and see her browbeaten and insulted 
 on my account ! " said Max, who was almost 
 choking. 
 
 " He'll not insult her," said the other, sig- 
 nificantly. " Let him bluster as he will, Col- 
 ville knows me better than to try that ! " 
 
 This colloquy, which took place iu short, 
 nervous whispers, did not occupy a minute. 
 With a parting " Keep quiet ! " Mr. Middleton 
 moved forward to the side of Norah. But 
 Norah needed no defender. She regarded 
 Mr. Colville with eyes so steady that they al- 
 most abashed him, and a face filled with elo- 
 quent, indignant scorn. 
 
 " Your private suppositions, sir," she said, 
 coldly, " cannot possibly affect the evidence. 
 That," turning to Mr. Purcell, " I have given 
 before the magistrate, and it is for him to act 
 on it." 
 
 " Mr. Colville also forgets or ignores one 
 thing," said Mr. Middleton, speaking here. 
 "The servant, on whose single and unsup- 
 ported evidence all this infamous and insult- 
 ing accusation rests, testified explicitly that 
 he heard Captain Tyndale return to Strafford 
 and enter his room a little after midnight. 
 It follows, therefore, that he must have re- 
 turned home immediately after parting with 
 Miss Desmond." 
 
 " I really think the case is very strong in 
 his favor, Colville," said Mr. Purcell, in a 
 whisper. 
 
 " So far from being in his favor, the case 
 is as strong as ever against him," said Mr. 
 Colville, in a loud, positive voice. His blood 
 and his mettle were both up. He looked 
 upon his colleague as a weak-minded fool, 
 and would not have hesitated to tell him so. 
 He believed that Max was guilty, and he 
 meant to prove him so. The idea that he 
 the murderer should be sent forth scathe- 
 less to enjoy the inheritance of the man he 
 had murdered, seemed to Mr. Colville too 
 monstrous to be allowed ! 
 
 " There is one point the most important 
 point which rests in mystery yet, and which 
 it is necessary should be cleared before any 
 evidence can be said to be in the prisoner's 
 favor," he went on, after a short pause. 
 " This is the subject of his dispute with the 
 murdered man. He refused to give any ac- 
 count of it himself, but, since Miss Desmond 
 has come forward to offer her evidence on 
 another point, it is likely that she may be 
 
 able to enlighten us also on this. Yv'ill you 
 state," turning to Norah, " what was the ex- 
 act nature of that ' business ' which Captain 
 Tyndale had with his cousin, and in which, 
 you have already said, that you also were 
 concerned." 
 
 " That can have nothing to do with the 
 matter that cannot be necessary," said No- 
 rah. Max, watching her closely with eager, 
 anxious eyes, saw that she did not flush, but, 
 on the contrary, turned very pale. He thought 
 she would recognize now, with a sense of dis- 
 may, what she had brought upon herself. He 
 did not know that she had seen it all, and 
 counted the cost of it all beforehand. 
 
 " Do you refuse, then, to answer the ques- 
 tion ? " said Mr. Colville, growing exceedingly 
 like a turkey-cock in the face. 
 
 Norah hesitated. She did not know how 
 far his power extended, but she had a vague 
 fear of consequences if she did refuse. Not 
 consequences to herself she had flung all 
 thought of herself to the winds but to Max. 
 Was the whole truth the only thing which 
 would clear him ? Yet she had hoped to 
 leave part of it untold, if only for Leslie's 
 sake. Suddenly it occurred to her that Mr. 
 Colville had no right to make such an in- 
 quiry, and, acting upon this thought, she 
 turned to Mr. Purcell with the dignity and 
 grace of her bearing unchanged. 
 
 " I thought that you, sir, were conducting 
 the examination," she said. " Will you al- 
 low me, therefore, to ask if it is necessary 
 that I should answer the question which this 
 very courteous gentleman thinks fit to address 
 to me ? " 
 
 "This gentleman is Mr. Colville, and a 
 justice of the peace as well as myself," said 
 Mr. Purcell, hurriedly. " I hem ! think it 
 would be best for you to answer the question 
 he has asked." 
 
 Norah looked at Mr. Midd'.eton, appeal- 
 ingly, but her glance received no answer. 
 Angry, mortified, indignant, furious with Col- 
 ville, yet knowing that the story of Arthur 
 Tyndale's conduct must sooner or later tran- 
 spire, he looked down, and dared not trust 
 himself to utter a word lest he should explode 
 in the invectives which he had used once be- 
 fore that day. Then she looked at Max. It 
 was the first time that their eyes had met, 
 and the mute appeal of her glance was too 
 much for the young man, who had momently 
 felt the leash in which he held himself slipping
 
 208 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 from his grasp. He sprang to his feet with 
 a quick motion, and, before the sheriff or 
 anybody else could interfere, stood by her 
 side. 
 
 " Take care that you do not go too far, 
 sir ! " he said, addressing Mr. Colville, with a 
 ring in his voice, and a glance in his eye, 
 which made that gentleman take an involun- 
 tary step backward. " The charge on which 
 you have seen fit to cause my arrest is in- 
 famous and unfounded enough, as you must 
 be aware ; but when you undertake to brow- 
 beat and insult a lady, who has generously 
 come forward, of her own accord, to testify in 
 my behalf, you are going too far much too 
 far ! If you presume on the fact that I am a 
 prisoner now, you might remember that I am 
 not likely to remain one for, surely, in this 
 country judges and juries are not fools as 
 well as magistrates ! and when I am at 
 liberty, sir, you shall answer for this con- 
 duct, as surely as there is a sun in the 
 heavens ! " 
 
 "Tyndale! Tyndale!" said Mr. Middle- 
 ton, in a warning tone but Max, having 
 yielded himself up to passion, had no ear 
 for friendly remonstrances. He shook off the 
 other's hand, impatiently, and looked at Mr. 
 Colville with the most fiery eyes which it is 
 likely that gentleman had ever encountered 
 in his life. But Mr. Colville, who was not 
 easily intimidated, saw his advantage, and in 
 a moment seized it. 
 
 " Any one who doubts this man's guilt," 
 said he, looking magisterially around at the 
 breathless but excited crowd, " has now an 
 opportunity to test the justice of his opinion. 
 The man who would venture to threaten a 
 magistrate in the prosecution of his duty, 
 would, certainly, be capable of assaulting his 
 cousin, with whom he had some mysterious 
 cause of disagreement, and whose heir-at-law 
 he was, in a secluded place at midnight." 
 
 Whatever this argument might have been 
 called in logic, it had its effect upon the lis- 
 tening crowd. A slight murmur rose. Koran 
 turned to Max. 
 
 " See what you have done ! " she whis- 
 pered. "Pray pray, go back and be quiet! 
 I might as well answer the question. It must 
 come out sooner or later." 
 
 " Don't think of such a thing ! " answered 
 he, impetuously. " For God's sake, don't 
 think of it ! They have no right it is in- 
 famous ! " 
 
 " Tyndale, if you don't want a scene, you 
 had better go back to your seat. Colville is 
 speaking to the sheriff," said Mr. Middle ton, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " The first thing that Mr. Colville knows, 
 he, or his friends, will have something for 
 which to commit me in earnest ! " said Max, 
 who felt that patience and forbearance had 
 some time since ceased to be virtues in this 
 particular case. 
 
 Affairs were in this interesting condition, 
 the spectators were growing more excited, 
 and Mr. Colville more angry every instant, 
 the sheriff was hesitating, Max was defiant, 
 and Mr. Middleton was uneasy, when a young 
 man, who had elbowed his way from the door, 
 and whom nobody had observed in the pre- 
 vailing excitement, walked up to the magis- 
 trate's table and addressed Mr. Purcell. 
 
 " You have the wrong man in custody, 
 sir," he said. " / know all the circum- 
 stances and the cause of Mr. Tyndule's 
 death." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 "I was too proud the truth to show, 
 You were too blind the truth to know, 
 And so we parted long ago." . 
 
 IT would be difficult to describe the pause 
 of absolute astonishment which fell over the 
 excited crowd at those words. Every eye in 
 the room turned at once on the new-comer, 
 while Mr. Middleton, wheeling round upon 
 him, uttered an exclamation of mingled amaze- 
 ment and credulity, so violent that it startled 
 every one present. 
 
 " Great Heaven ! " he said, " Carl ! is it 
 you ? " 
 
 "It is I, sir all right!" answered Carl, 
 extending his hand. He spoke mechanically, 
 and looked so jaded, pale, and grim, that it 
 was not surprising that very few persons had 
 recognized him as he made his way up the 
 room. " I did not mean to spring the thing 
 on you like this," he said, as his uncle took 
 the extended hand, half doubtfully, and looked 
 at him with a score at least of interrogation- 
 points in his eyes. " I thought I would go to 
 Rosland, talk it over quietly, and take your 
 advice about the best course to pursue ; but 
 when I got off the train ten minutes ago, I 
 heard that Tyndale had been taken up and 
 was being examined, so I thought the best
 
 THE WRONG MAN. 
 
 thing I could do would be to come in at once, 
 state exactly how it all occurred, and take 
 the consequences, whatever they may be." 
 
 " But, are you mad ? " said Mr. Middle- 
 ton. " It can't be possible that you know any 
 thing of Arthur Tyndale's death, for you were 
 not even in the county." 
 
 " You are mistaken," said the young man, 
 quietly. " I know every thing every thing 
 about it." Then he turned abruptly to 
 Xorah. A change which it is hard to analyze 
 came over his face, a quick shiver of passion 
 crept into his voice. " Forgive me," he said, 
 " that I have to drag your name forward. If 
 it were possible to avoid it, I would do so, at 
 any risk or cost to myself! " 
 
 "My name!" said Xorah. "What has 
 my name to do with it ? " 
 
 But even as she asked the question, she 
 felt what her name had to do with it, and a 
 sudden sense of fuintness came over her. It 
 must all be told, then there was no help for 
 it ! The faces around suddenly seemed to 
 swim before her. She turned to Max with a 
 blind instinct that in another moment she 
 would make a scene. " Let me sit down ! " 
 she said, faintly. 
 
 But, after he had taken her to a seat, she 
 detained him and would not allow him to 
 open a window or ask for water. " Don't ! " 
 she said. " People will think that I have 
 something to dread, and it is not of myself 
 that I am thinking. You know that." 
 
 " But you should think of yourself," he 
 said, angrily. What does this mean ? What 
 can this hot-headed young fool have to say 
 about you?" 
 
 " Only the old story seen from his point 
 of view. Hush ! what is he saying ? Let 
 me hear ! " 
 
 He had taken the oath and was giving his 
 evidence to the magistrate with the manner 
 of one who wishes to tell his story and be 
 done with it. His quick, nervous voice for 
 it was evident that his coolness was only the 
 result of supreme excitement rang through 
 the room so clearly that everybody heard dis- 
 tinctly all that was said. The silence was 
 profound. Men pressed nearer, but no one 
 spoke. Mr. Purcell listened with the air of 
 a man who has reached the last point of 
 possible astonishment, Mr. Colville eyed the 
 speaker sternly with an air of mingled sus- 
 picion and incredulity; Mr. Middleton sat 
 down with an audible groan. This was a 
 14 
 
 terrible blow to him. Meanwhile, Carl was 
 speaking : 
 
 "In saying that I am acquainted with the 
 circumstances of Mr. Tyndale's death, I must 
 add that I was unfortunately the cause of 
 that death," he said, with his head upheld, 
 his face white and set, his brown eyes steadily 
 meeting the magistrates'. " The death itself 
 was purely accidental ; but he was struggling 
 with me when it occurred when, stepping 
 back incautiously, he lost his balance so it 
 is possible that the law will hold me account- 
 able for it. However that may be, I am here 
 now to speak the truth and clear suspicion 
 from a man who has been unjustly accused." 
 
 " You are rather late in coming to speak 
 the truth," said Mr. Colville, abruptly. " May 
 I ask where you have been ever since the 
 murder was discovered ? " 
 
 " I will explain that point presently," 
 said Carl, with a motion of the hand which 
 could scarcely have been more carelessly con- 
 temptuous if he had been brushing a fly aside. 
 Then he went on, addressing himself to Mr. 
 Purcell with pointed directness : 
 
 "In order that you may understand the 
 cause of the struggle which resulted in Mr. 
 Tyndale's death, it is necessary that I should 
 tax your patience far enough to enter into a 
 detail of some personal circumstances which 
 preceded it. On last Saturday I decided to 
 leave my uncle's house for a short visit to 
 some relatives in a lower county. Chancing 
 to drive into Wexford on business during the 
 earlier part of the day, I thought that I might 
 save time, in case I was late at night, by 
 buying my ticket then; so I went to the 
 ticket-office, where I was informed of the 
 change of schedule, which threw the trains 
 several hours later than the time on which 
 they had been running, and where I also heard 
 that Mr. Tyndale was intending to leave Wex- 
 ford that night. This intelligence struck me, 
 for I" he paused, hesitated, a glow of color 
 came into his face, then paled again "I at 
 once connected such an intention with some 
 words which I had overheard by chance that 
 morning words exchanged between Miss 
 Desmond and Mr. Tyndale. They were talk- 
 ing in a summer-house in my uncle's grounds, 
 under the window of which I passed" he 
 emphasized this word for Xorah, as she felt, 
 though he did not turn his glance on her 
 "and, in so passing, caught a reference to the 
 ten-o'clock train at night which puzzled me.
 
 210 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 When I learned the news of Mr. Tyndale's 
 proposed departure, however, all seemed plain 
 enough. I saw then that the man who was 
 engaged to one woman, had asked another 
 woman to elope with him, and, furthermore, I 
 believed that she had consented to do so." 
 
 There was a slight stir as these emphatic 
 words rang out. People were disposed to 
 be a little indignant. " He won't clear him- 
 self by slandering a dead man ! " more than 
 one of them muttered. Others had been 
 shrewd enough to suspect some family scan- 
 dal before this. Max's reticence, and No- 
 rah's extraordinaray beauty, had been very 
 significant of something of the kind. Interest 
 began to increase. Even Mr. Colville listened 
 more attentively. Max, who was overcome 
 with rage, bent down to Norah. "Why do 
 you not go forward and contradict such an 
 assertion ? " he said. 
 
 "There is time enough for that," she an- 
 swered. " Let him finish his story. It is not 
 in my character, but in Arthur Tyndale's 
 death, that the magistrates are concerned." 
 
 " I returned to Rosland," Carl meanwhile 
 went on, "where there was a dinner-party 
 that evening. After dinner I left, without 
 telling my friends of the change of schedule, 
 of which none of them were aware. They 
 were all under the impression that I had taken 
 the down-express, due here by the old sched- 
 ule at 9.40 P. M. As soon as I reached Wex- 
 ford, I sent the dog-cart back to Rosland, and 
 soon afterward set forth in that direction 
 myself. I was determined to see if my sus- 
 picions with regard to Miss Desmond and 
 Mr. Tyndale were correct, and I was also de- 
 termined that the elopement should not take 
 place if I could prevent it." 
 
 " Excuse me if I interrupt you for a minute," 
 said Mr. Purcell just here, "but why should 
 you have wished to prevent it ? " 
 
 "Is it remarkable that I should have 
 wished to prevent a dishonorable scoundrel 
 from playing fast-and-loose with the cousin 
 in the first instance, and the woman whom I 
 hoped to marry, in the second ? " demanded 
 the young man, haughtily. 
 
 " But since Mr. Middleton is the head of 
 your family and Mise Grahame's guardian," 
 said the irrepressible Mr. Colville, " may I ask 
 why you did not go to him, if you wished the 
 elopement prevented ? " 
 
 " I am here to state that my conduct was, 
 not to render an account of the motives which 
 
 actuated me," answered Carl, waxing more 
 haughty still. "Why I did not apply to my 
 uncle has nothing whatever to do with the 
 circumstances I am detailing." Then he took 
 up the thread of his story again a story to 
 which Max and Norah listened as eagerly as 
 any one else : " I entered the Rosland grounds 
 unobserved, and took my way to the bridge. 
 I had an instinct that I should meet Arthur 
 Tyndale there, and I was not mistaken. As 
 I crossed the bridge, I saw him advancing 
 from the opposite side toward me. I " he 
 stopped and hesitated for a minute " I have 
 scarcely a clear recollection of what followed. 
 I met him just beyond the bridge, and asked 
 him where he was going. He answered with 
 an insolent refusal to tell me. I charged him, 
 then, with his intention. Upon this, he grew 
 very violent, accused me of insulting inter- 
 ference, and finally drew a pistol on me. I 
 was unarmed; but I was the cooler man of 
 the two besides which, I saw that he had 
 been drinking and, as he was in the act of 
 firing, I knocked the pistol out of his hand. 
 Then he sprang at me like a tiger, and we 
 closed. It was a hand-to-hand struggle for a 
 minute or two how long, exactly, I can't tell. 
 I think he would have got the best of me, if I 
 had not pressed him almost unconsciously 
 toward the edge of the ravine. It was there 
 his foot slipped, and with my weight telling 
 against him he was hurled over. I should 
 have gone too, if I had not saved myself by 
 catching a small tree. He went down." 
 
 Again the speaker's voice ceased abruptly. 
 It was evidently only by a strong effort that 
 he had forced himself to utter the last words. 
 These words were simple enough, yet there 
 was something in them an unspoken power, 
 an expression of reality which thrilled every 
 one present. They all felt that they had 
 listened to the truth. The magnetism of the 
 young man's tones seemed to bring before 
 them, like a vivid picture, the midnight strug- 
 gle, with its awful ending. As for him, he 
 laid one hand on the table to steady himself, 
 while with the other he took up and drank off 
 a glass of water. He had not finished. There 
 was something still to tell and he must do it. 
 No one spoke. Even Mr. Colville for once 
 was silent. They waited eagerly, breathlessly, 
 until he went on : 
 
 " I was horribly startled when Tyndale 
 fell for I knew the height of the bank just 
 there and I waited for a minute that seemed
 
 A STRAIGHTFORWARD STORY. 
 
 211 
 
 to me an hour, to see if he would more or 
 speak. Since he did neither, I spoke to him. 
 He gave no answer. Then I struggled down 
 the bank as well as I could in the dim light, 
 and went to where he was tying. He" a 
 short pause " he breathed once or twice af- 
 ter I reached him, but he neither spoke nor 
 groaned. That is all." 
 
 " Not quite all," said Mr. Purcell, in a 
 grave voice, after a moment's pause. To him, 
 no more than to any one else, did any doubt 
 of the statement come. Sometimes there is 
 an irresistible power in truth to make itself 
 felt, and this was one of those occasions. 
 No sans man could possibly have suspected 
 that any thing like falsehood lurked behind 
 Carl Middleton's white face, and simple, 
 straightforward story. " There is one thing 
 yet," said the magistrate. " If the death oc- 
 curred as you have described, why did you not 
 at once summon witnesses and acknowledge 
 the share you had borne in it ? " 
 
 " Because I was too horror-stricken and 
 excited to take time for rational thought," 
 the young man answered. " The first im- 
 pulse which came to me when I realized what 
 had happened, was to leave the spot. This I 
 did at once. I retraced my steps to Wexford 
 so rapidly, that I reached there in time for 
 the Alton train, -which I took. My undefined 
 intention was to leave the country as soon 
 as possible not so much because I dreaded 
 any consequences of what had occurred, as 
 because I wished to fling it and all association 
 with it behind me. But, yesterday, cooler 
 thoughts came to me. I began to realize that 
 the right thing to do was to come back and 
 tell the truth, especially since I feared that 
 some innocent person I did not think of Cap- 
 tain Tyndale, however might fall under sus- 
 picion. The result proves that this instinct 
 was a right one." 
 
 " I am sorry extremely sorry that Cap- 
 tain Tyndale should have suffered so much 
 annoyance," said Mr. Purcell it was worthy 
 of note that even such meagre expression of 
 regret as this stuck in Mr. Colville's throat, 
 as " amen" did in that of Macbeth " I hope 
 he will remember that I only did my duty ac- 
 cording to the evidence given before me. 
 Such disagreeable mistakes will occur some- 
 times, but it gives me sincere pleasure to re- 
 lease him from custody now, with with an 
 apology for his detention." 
 
 " I think you are proceeding rather fast, 
 
 Purcell," said his colleague, stiffly. " The 
 law receives with reluctance great reluctance 
 the evidence of a man against himself. There 
 are one or two points yet to be considered in 
 Mr. ahem ! Middleton's testimony. He does 
 not assert, but he leads us to suppose," pro- 
 ceeded this benign minister of justice, " that 
 the ruling motive of the conduct which he 
 describes very ungentlemanly and insulting 
 conduct, in my opinion was a violent passion 
 for Miss Desmond, united with jealousy of Mr. 
 Tyndale. But it is a well-known fact that Mr. 
 Tyndale was engaged to Miss Grahamc, and it 
 is scarcely likely, therefore, that he should 
 have been contemplating" (Mr. Colville was 
 fond of long words which had an imposing 
 effect) "an elopement with a young lady who 
 is as I understand related to Miss Gra- 
 hame." 
 
 Before Carl could reply though the quick 
 lightning which leaped into his eyes replied 
 for him Norah rose and came forward. 
 "Now is my opportunity!" she said, in a 
 nervous whisper to Max, and Max did not try 
 to detain her. He went forward with her, 
 however, and stood by her side while she ad- 
 dressed the magistrate. 
 
 "If you will excuse me," she said and her 
 clear, sweet voice thrilled like music on all 
 the listening ears, after the harsh, masculine 
 tones to which they had been hearkening 
 "I should like to answer now the question 
 which was addressed to me before Mr. Mid- 
 dleton came in the question relating to the 
 business which took Captain Tyndale to Straf- 
 ford, and in which I have already said that I 
 was concerned. It will serve to explain and 
 in a measure substantiate the statement which 
 Mr. Middleton has made." 
 
 I am quite ready to hear any evidence that 
 you have to offer," said Mr. Purcell, cour- 
 teously. Elopement or no elopement, he 
 could not resist the charm which Norah's 
 lovely countenance had for him. In fact, he 
 credited nothing in her disfavor, and would 
 not have minded breaking a lance for her in 
 his old-fashioned way. 
 
 " I must ask you to believe, then, that it 
 is with deep regret, and only to explain things 
 which are misunderstood, and which may be 
 misrepresented, that I speak," she said. " I 
 am more than sorry oh, much more than 
 sorry to utter any thing which may reflect 
 discredit on the dead, or which can pain the 
 living ; but I have no alternative. In justice
 
 212 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 to myself I must state the truth in which 
 Captain Tyndale will bear me witness." 
 
 She then began, and, with a clear, un- 
 faltering voice, told the history of all that 
 had occurred between Arthur and herself, 
 together with the part which Max and Carl 
 had played therein; a history which has al- 
 ready been given in detail, and need not 
 again be given in general outline. Mr. Mid- 
 dleton writhed in his chair: but what could 
 he say ? Even if objection would have done 
 any good, how could he object? He had 
 sense enough to know that this, which was 
 important to Xorah, was essential to Carl. 
 Without her evidence, the cause of his quar- 
 rel with Arthur Tyndale would have rested 
 on his single, unsupported assertion. Now it 
 was proved beyond question by her testi- 
 mony and that of Max, corroborating all that 
 she said. 
 
 After the last words were uttered, she 
 drew down her veil and turned away. " That 
 is all ! " she said. Then she walked up to 
 Mr. Middleton, who sat with one hand over 
 his eyes, the other resting on the top of his 
 gold-headed cane. " Will you take me to the 
 carriage ? " she said to him, in a low, depre- 
 cating voice. " I suppose I may go now 
 may I not ? " 
 
 "I suppose these gentleman will kindly 
 allow you to do so, since they have gratified 
 their curiosity by ferreting out all that they 
 wanted to know," he answered, bitterly. He 
 rose as he spoke and offered her his arm. 
 Keenly as he resented her conduct, " from 
 first to last," as he said to himself, he would 
 not for any consideration have seemed lack- 
 ing in the most minute punctilio of respect 
 especially before all the curious eyes that 
 were bent upon them. Leaning on his arm, 
 she passed down the aisle which the curious 
 crowd, falling back on either side, made and 
 so out of the justice-room. 
 
 Mr. Middleton placed her in the carriage, 
 which was waiting on the outside, and then 
 closed the door. " After you have taken Miss 
 Desmond to Rosland, bring the carriage 
 back," he said to the coachman. "I must 
 trouble you to explain my absence to my 
 wife, Miss Desmond," he added very coldly 
 to Xorah. " Tell her that I will come as soon 
 as possible as soon as I get through with 
 those men in yonder, and am able to bring 
 Carl with me." 
 
 " Had you not better write a line to Mrs. 
 
 Middleton ? " said Xorah. " I how can I 
 tell her all that has occurred ? It is not that 
 I would shrink from the pain on my own ac- 
 count," she added, eagerly, " but it would 
 make it much worse to her if she heard it 
 from me." 
 
 He knew this was true. " Wait a minute, 
 then," he said, and, opening his pocket-book, 
 he began to scribble a few lines on a blank 
 page. While he was so engaged, Max Tyn- 
 dale (who bad taken immediate advantage of 
 his newly-acquired freedom) came up to the 
 door of the carriage. His face was still very 
 pale, but his dark eyes were glowing. 
 
 " Are you going away without even giving 
 me an opportunity to thank you for all that 
 you have done for me?" he said, in a low 
 voice a voice that seemed full of emotion. 
 
 " What is there to thank me for ? " she 
 asked, almost brusquely. " I merely came 
 forward and told the truth. It was you who 
 were enduring suspicion and imprisonment 
 sooner than than call on me for this evi- 
 dence, as you should have done at once." 
 
 "As I would have endured a thousand 
 times more, sooner than have done ! " said he. 
 " You cannot tell what I felt when I came in 
 and saw you ! you cannot tell what I have 
 endured during this last hour ! " 
 
 " It has been something very hard, even 
 to me something which I am not likely ever 
 to forget," she said. " But you see that, un- 
 der any circumstances, it must have come to 
 pass. There was no help for it. If I had not 
 offered myself as a witness for you, I should, 
 no doubt, have been summoned as a witness 
 for Carl Middleton." 
 
 " Have you suspected him at all ? " asked 
 he, looking at her intently. 
 
 " Not at all never for a moment. But I 
 feared from the first that you might be sus- 
 pected." 
 
 " And Leslie Miss Grabame ! What has 
 she thought? surely she has not believed 
 that I was guilty ? " 
 
 " Xo ; Leslie did not believe it," answered 
 Xorah. She spoke quietly, almost indiffer- 
 ently ; but there was a pang at her heart. It 
 was of Leslie, he thought ; not of her. She 
 had periled her good name in his defense ; 
 but all that he cared to learn was whether 
 Leslie, in the midst of her sorrow and in the 
 safe seclusion of her home, had thought him 
 guilty ! At least this was what Xorah 
 thought. She would not look at him to read
 
 NORAH'S RETURN TO ROSLAND. 
 
 213 
 
 her mistake if mistake it were in his eyes. 
 She was buttoning her glove, with fingers 
 much more quick and nervous than her voice, 
 when she said, " What will be the result of 
 all this, as far as that mad boy is con- 
 cerned ? " 
 
 "Nothing very serious, I hope," Captain 
 Tyndale answered. "I left the magistrates 
 deciding at what amount they will fix his 
 bail. He will be at liberty until the grand- 
 jury has taken cognizance of his case." 
 
 " And then ? " 
 
 " Then they may find a bill against him, 
 and he may have to stand a trial, but the 
 result can only be final acquittal. I have no 
 doubt but that every thing occurred exactly 
 as he states." 
 
 " Nor I," said she, in a low voice. 
 
 As she spoke, he saw that she was trem- 
 bling, and it suddenly occurred to him to 
 wonder what Carl Middlcton was to her. 
 What right had he possessed to take upon 
 himself the part of defender, which he had 
 played with such woful results ? Not that 
 of an accepted suitor, certainly. His own 
 avowal had made that much clear. Indeed, 
 it was very evident that he had quitted Ros- 
 land as a hopeless or rejected suitor. But 
 many a hopeless or rejected suitor has pos- 
 sessed the heart of the woman who rejected 
 him, and that Max knew. He also knew 
 enough of Norah Desmond by this time, to be 
 aware that she had sufficient pride to hold 
 aloof even from the man she loved, if she 
 thought that his family would be unwilling to 
 receive her and of the unwillingness of the 
 Middletons there could be no question. 
 These thoughts went through Max's mind like 
 a flash. 
 
 " I don't think you need be uneasy about 
 Mr. Middleton," he said. "Your testimony 
 supported his own so well that " 
 
 " Here is the note, Miss Desmond," said 
 Mr. Middleton, coming between them. " I 
 am very sorry to have detained you so long. 
 Bring the carriage back as quickly as pos- 
 sible," he added to the coachman. 
 
 At this hint Max felt that he must fall 
 back. Not one straight look into Norah's 
 eyes had he gained yet. " She is thinking 
 too much of Middleton to care for me ! " he 
 thought, with that exquisite discernment and 
 reason which distinguishes a man to whom 
 love begins to come as enlightencr and mys- 
 tifier both at once. Still he leaned forward 
 
 quickly, and took the hand which was ab- 
 sently holding Mr. Middleton's note. 
 
 "God bless you!" he said, in a voice 
 which rang in Norah's ears for many a long 
 day afterward. " If I were to try forever I 
 could never thank you for all that you have 
 endured for me for the revelation of your- 
 self you have made to me to-day ! There is 
 much yet to be done at Straflbrd which 
 claims my attention now, but I will see you 
 very soon." 
 
 The words were little the tone was every 
 thing. If Norah had looked up, a single 
 glance might have settled every thing between 
 them ; but Norah did not look up. She dared 
 not. Instinct warned her that tears or a sug- 
 gestion of tears were in her eyes )4 nd she 
 would have sooner died (at least so she thought) 
 than show those tears to Max Tyndale. He 
 was only meaning to thank her of that 
 she felt sure and what were his thanks to 
 her ? She steadied her voice until it was al- 
 most cold, as she said 
 
 " Good-by ! " 
 
 Only that. The next moment her hand 
 lay in her lap a poor, little crushed hand, if 
 she had taken time or thought to feel its pain 
 and the carriage was driving rapidly away. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXYI. 
 
 " Man cannot make, but may ennoble fate, 
 
 By nobly bearing it. So let us trust 
 Not to ourselves, but God. and calmly wait 
 Love's orient out of darkness and of dust. 
 
 41 Farewell, and yet again farewell, and yet 
 
 Never farewell if farewell mean to fare 
 Alone and disunited. Love hath set 
 Our days, in music, to the self-same air." 
 
 WHEN Norah reached Rosland, her first 
 act after having sent the note of which she 
 was the bearer, up to Mrs. Middleton was to 
 go to Leslie. She found her alone. From 
 exhaustion and weariness, she had fallen into 
 a light sleep, but the sound of the opening 
 door, and the rustle of Norah's dress, as she 
 crossed the room, wakened her. She came 
 back to consciousness with a start, but the 
 sense of sorrow had not left her even in 
 sleep, and she was spared that keen pang 
 which usually comes with waking to those in 
 grief. 
 
 " Arc you back, Norah ? " she said, spring-
 
 214 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 ing to a sitting posture. " Has Captain Tyn- 
 dale been discharged ? Is it all over ? " 
 
 " It is all over," said Norah, coming to 
 her side. " He has been discharged. I knew 
 you would be glad to hear it, so I came to you 
 at once." 
 
 " Yes, I am very glad to hear it," said 
 Leslie. "But what a terrible charge to have 
 been made against him, of all people ! Ar- 
 thur's cousin I almost feel as if he were 
 Arthur's brother Norah, were they mad to 
 say such a thing of him ? " 
 
 " They had some show of reason for their 
 suspicions," said Norah, hesitatingly. The 
 truth must be told, and yet she scarcely 
 knew how to tell it. "You know that he 
 was in^the grounds with me at midnight. 
 "We heard a shot I did not tell you this be- 
 fore, dear and it was then that Mr. Tyndule 
 was killed. We thought very little of it at 
 the time, but you can imagine that such a 
 fact might have thrown suspicion on Captain 
 Tyndale, especially since he would not ac- 
 count for his absence by summoning me as a 
 witness, or, indeed, by mentioning me at all." 
 
 " Aunt Mildred told me that," said Leslie, 
 simply. " It was not more than I should 
 have expected of him." 
 
 "It was more than I should have ex- 
 pected," said Norah. " But that does not 
 natter. Of course it was not likely that I 
 should expect any thing more than common 
 courtesy and respect. My testimony went 
 very far toward clearing him," she added. 
 " Indeed, I suppose it would have cleared 
 him entirely, but " 
 
 " But what ? " asked Leslie, anxiously, as 
 she paused. " Is he not cleared ? " 
 
 " Yes for the real circumstances of Mr. 
 Tyndale's death are now known." 
 
 " Known ? Are they known ? " said Leslie. 
 She started violently, her eyes expanded, her 
 face blanched even whiter than it had been 
 before, her lips unclosed. " Norah ! " she 
 gasped. "How was it? Tell me! I can 
 bear any thing ! " 
 
 " There is nothing worse than you know 
 already to bear," said Norah ; but as she spoke 
 her heart was beating at a suffocating rate. 
 " Indeed, there may be something better. It 
 ivill be better to think that he died by acci- 
 dent, than that he was murdered, will it not ? 
 That is what is now known." 
 
 " But, how is it known ? " demanded Leslie, 
 feverishly. " Norah, you are keeping some- 
 
 thing from me. I see it I know it ! But 
 you need not be afraid I can endure any 
 thing ! Have you not learned yet how strong 
 lam?" 
 
 " There is nothing to test your strength in 
 this," said Norah, gently. " Mr. Tyndale's 
 death was purely accidental. You must appre- 
 ciate that, Leslie you must put all thought 
 of violence away from you for it was it 
 was some one whom you know very well who 
 was the unfortunate cause of his death." 
 
 " Some one whom I know very well ! " re- 
 peated Leslie. As she spoke, a whirl of con- 
 jectures passed through her mind. Then a 
 ray of intuition came to her, and just as 
 Norah, who did not mean to keep her in sus- 
 pense, was on the point of speaking, she ut- 
 tered a cry. "Carl !" she said, catching her 
 sister's hands, in a quick, nervous grasp. 
 " Norah ! " Was it was it Carl ? " 
 
 Her eyes were bent on Norah's face to de- 
 tect any thing like evasion or subterfuge ; but 
 Norah had no intention of employing either. 
 " Yes, it was Carl," she answered, quietly so 
 quietly that her words had more of a sooth- 
 ing than an exciting effect. " But, Leslie, 
 you must listen to me, and you must believe 
 me. He had no more intention of killing 
 Arthur Tyndale than I had." . 
 
 " How did he do it ? " asked Leslie. Her 
 lips seemed parched. A sudden shivering 
 sense of horror came over her. Carl! It 
 had been Carl ! Out of her own household 
 had come the slayer of the man she loved ! 
 Norah saw that she was thinking this, and 
 her voice sounded almost peremptory. " You 
 must listen to me ! " she repeated. " It is 
 only justice to do so." 
 
 And then she told Carl's story better than 
 Carl had told it himself that is, she brought 
 it even more forcibly and clearly to the com- 
 prehension of her listener. She dwelt strongly, 
 yet with infinite gentleness and considera- 
 tion, upon the state in which Max had left 
 his cousin, thus making it apparent that Carl 
 must have spoken truth when he said that 
 Tyndale had been the aggressor in the strug- 
 gle which ended so fatally. Leslie heard her 
 without word or sign. She sank back on the 
 pillows, and covered her face as she listened. 
 When Norah finished, a low, shuddering sigh 
 was her only comment on all that she had 
 heard. After waiting vainly for a minute or 
 two, the former bent over her. 
 
 " Leslie," she said, " do you not believe
 
 A SENSIBLE RESOLUTION. 
 
 215 
 
 me ? do you not believe Carl ? Do you not 
 see that it was accident ; and that he was not 
 to blame, further than that he should not have 
 interfered in what did not concern him ? " 
 
 " I see it all ! " said Leslie and the words 
 were an absolute groan. " You were the be- 
 ginning and end of the whole, Norah !" 
 
 The words sounded so much like a re- 
 proach, that Norah drew back. She had not 
 meant to do ill, but just then her conscience 
 stubbed her like a sword. It was true ! She 
 had been the beginning and the end of the 
 whole! If she had not come to America, 
 Leslie might have been happy still, no more 
 deceived than many another woman has lived 
 and died. But Leslie had not meant her 
 words for a reproach, and, feeling that retreat- 
 ing motion, she looked up, holding out her 
 hand. 
 
 " Don't misunderstand me," she said ; "I 
 did not mean to blame you for what was no 
 fault of yours. It is well that I should re- 
 alize it. I was nothing ; you were every 
 thing. And it all came from his deception. 
 But Carl what will be done to Carl ? " 
 
 "Nothing Captain Tyndale thinks. I 
 have not spoken to your uncle about it. I 
 can see that he feels very bitterly toward 
 me." 
 
 "Why should he?" 
 
 " Because, as you say, it has been through 
 me that it has all come to pass. Leslie, 
 Leslie, can you forgive me ? I shall never 
 forgive myself never, never ! " 
 
 Then all the over-wrought calm in which 
 she had been holding herself for so long, gave 
 way and a great passion of tears burst forth 
 a passion that fairly startled Leslie, and yet 
 did her good, for it drew her away from her- 
 self. All the inherent gentleness and noble- 
 ness of her character came out then. She 
 put her arms around Norah's shaking form 
 and uttered words of kindness, which the 
 other never forgot. In that hour they be- 
 came sisters in heart as well as in fact. To 
 the tie of blood which had hitherto united 
 them, was added the deeper and rarer tie of 
 sympathy and affection. The shock which 
 would have divided forever two ordinary na- 
 tures, bound these together, showed these 
 one to the other more plainly and more clearly 
 than years of surface intercourse could have 
 done. 
 
 Yet, when Norah recovered her self-con- 
 trol, she announced a resolution which took 
 
 Leslie by surprise which amazed her, in- 
 deed. " I have come to tell you that I must 
 leave you," she said. " Surely you are not 
 surprised ! Surely you know why I must go ? 
 It does not require either words or looks to 
 tell me how unwelcome my presence is to 
 your uncle and aunt." 
 
 "Why should you think such a thing?" 
 said Leslie. " They are too just to visit on 
 you all that has occurred ! Norah, you must 
 not think of such a thing ! It would be doing 
 yourself a grave injustice in the eyes of the 
 world. People would say what would they 
 not say if you left us now ? " 
 
 " What people say is a matter of very 
 small importance to me," answered Norah. 
 " I think very little too little, perhaps of 
 that ! Besides which, they are likely to say 
 all that you fear, as it is. No, I cannot stay, 
 Leslie you must not press me to do so. I 
 was wrong ever to come. This world is not 
 my world. I must go back to Bohemia. 
 You have been very good very kind and 
 very generous to me, my dear. I shall 
 never forget that. But still I must go." 
 
 " Norah, it is impossible ! Not now not 
 at once ! " 
 
 " At once ! " said Norah, firmly. " I am 
 told that a train for Alton leaves Wexford at 
 four o'clock this afternoon. I must take that. 
 Nay, Leslie, my dear Leslie, don't look at me 
 so imploringly ! You cannot tell how many 
 reasons there are which force me to go. If it 
 seem* terrible to you that I should start on 
 such a voyage alone, remember that I have 
 had a different training from any you can 
 ever imagine. Nobody has ever shielded me 
 from the world. I have gone everywhere and 
 done every thing. It would be rather late, 
 therefore, to begin to hesitate about doing 
 this. Even if it seemed as terrible to me as 
 it does to you, I must still do it I must 
 go." 
 
 And this was the final end of all argu- 
 ments, all pleadings. She must still do it 
 she must go ! Leslie at last saw that it was 
 hopeless to oppose or attempt to dissuade 
 her. But, when Mrs. Middleton heard of the 
 intended departure, she was outraged. This 
 seemed the crowning stroke of all Norah's 
 enormity. " What will people say ? " was the 
 thought. " For Leslie's sake, she must be 
 stopped. I wish to Heaven she had never 
 come, but since she has come, it would be the 
 source of endless scandal for her to leave
 
 216 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 like this ! " Yet even Mrs. Middleton remon- 
 strated in vain. Norah was decided. She 
 would go. 
 
 Mr. Middleton, meanwhile, having settled 
 with the magistrates about Carl's bail, was 
 anxious to take the latter back to Rosland 
 with him. But Carl, naturally enough, shrank 
 from that. " It is impossible, sir," he said. 
 " I must go away. I feel like Cain. It is 
 true I did not kill the poor fellow but I can- 
 not forget that if I had not interfered in 
 what was no affair of mine, if I had not lost 
 my senses, he might be alive now ! I cannot 
 go back to Rosland. I cannot face Leslie 
 and and Miss Desmond, with that thought 
 between us. It is impossible ! " 
 
 " Very well," said Mr. Middleton, with a 
 sigh of resignation. " Where are you going ? 
 Back to Alton ? " 
 
 " Where everybody will be reading this in 
 the morning papers and canvassing it to-mor- 
 row ? No ! I could stand Rosland better than 
 that ! I shall go in the other direction 
 where, I don't know. The farther away, the 
 better." 
 
 " Go, if you wish to do so," said his uncle. 
 " But don't carry any morbid ideas with you ; 
 to lead you into fresh trouble, perhaps. Re- 
 member that an accident is only an accident 
 in the sight of man and God. After all," 
 said he, shaking his head, " it may be as well 
 for Leslie. I never had any liking for the 
 match, though I did not suspect Tyndale of 
 such dishonorable conduct as he was plainly 
 guilty of." 
 
 So it happened that Mr. Middleton came 
 back alone to Rosland a fact which was a 
 relief to every one concerned. " It is as well 
 that Carl has gone," Mrs. Middleton said, 
 " though it is hard that he should be forced 
 to go." Then she added, bitterly : " Having 
 given as much trouble as possible in every 
 other way, Miss Desmond is determined to 
 cause any amount of unpleasant talk by leav- 
 ing us immediately after after all that has 
 taken place to-day." 
 
 " Is she going away ? " said Mr. Middle- 
 ton. Men usually think less of "unpleasant 
 talk," than women do, and he was honestly 
 relieved by this news. " She has brought 
 trouble enough in her train," he said. " Per- 
 haps she may leave us a little peace when she 
 goes. I think it is a sensible resolution, Mil- 
 dred." 
 
 "It is a resolution which shows that she 
 
 holds her name very lightly but then, her 
 whole conduct has proved that," said Mrs. 
 Middleton. " One could expect nothing else 
 from her rearing, I suppose ; but it is hard on 
 Leslie very hard." 
 
 " My dear," Baid her husband, with un- 
 wonted gravity, " does it occur to you to re- 
 member that her coming, and every thing 
 connected with it, has been Leslie's fault ? 
 Do you recollect that morning last May, was 
 it ? when we tried to dissuade her from such 
 a step, and warned her of the ill consequences 
 that might result ? I cannot forget that, if 
 she had listened to reason and advice, none 
 of all this would have occurred." 
 
 " I am sure it was very natural and very 
 generous of her to desire such a thing," said 
 Mrs. Middleton, who was in arms for her dar- 
 ling instantly. " Though I tried to dissuade 
 her, I knew that, and felt that it was natural, 
 at the time. But there was no excuse for 
 Arthur Tyndale none ! Not any more than 
 for this Bohemian girl ! " 
 
 " I Am half afraid that this Bohemian 
 girl, as you call her, may end by marrying 
 Carl at last," said Mr. Middleton, uneasily. 
 " It would be an awful blow if she did, and 
 for that reason I am glad to hear of her in- 
 tended departure. The sooner she goes the 
 better, Mildred you may be sure of that ! 
 What does a little gossip, more or less, mat- 
 ter in comparison with serious mischief; and I 
 tell you that woman is made to work mischief 
 wherever she goes ! " 
 
 In view of this emphatic opinion, Mrs. 
 Middleton made little further effort to detain 
 Norah. Not that any effort would have mat- 
 tered, or changed the girl's resolution. She 
 felt too plainly the coldness and suspicion 
 which surrounded her, to be able to endure 
 such an atmosphere any longer. Besides 
 which, there was a reason of her own a pri- 
 vate reason in the background which im- 
 pelled her to go. More than ever she con- 
 gratulated herself upon having insisted upon 
 being supplied with money enough for such 
 an emergency. " I may not be able to en- 
 dure these people for a da}"," she had said to 
 her father. " I will not go unless you give 
 me the means to return immediately, if I 
 choose to do so." And he, after much demur, 
 was obliged to comply with this demand, 
 though he cherished a warm hope that, in- 
 stead of coming back immediately, Norah 
 might be going to make or win her fortune.
 
 MISS DESMOND'S DEPARTURE. 
 
 217 
 
 Norah thought rather grimly of those hopes 
 and anticipations, as she packed her trunk. 
 They would have a downfall indeed, when 
 she walked, penniless, in upon her father and 
 Kate, in the shabby Dublin lodgings, which 
 she knew so well. 
 
 She was nervously anxious to be off, how- 
 ever; and insisted upon leaving as soon as 
 luncheon was over, though Mr. Middleton 
 assured her that the train was not due in 
 WexforJ until four o'clock. " It is better to 
 be too early than too late ! " she said ; and, 
 when the carriage came to the door, she went 
 at once to Leslie's room to say farewell. 
 This hud been something from which she 
 shrank with reason. It was bitterly painful 
 on both sides so painful, that it was short 
 and almost speechless. " This is not the 
 end, Norah," Leslie whispered, with pale, 
 quivering lips. " It cannot be the end of all 
 I hoped wished planned. Some day we 
 must meet again. Promise me that." 
 
 " I see no hope of it now," Norah an- 
 swered. " But if ever there is hope, dear, I 
 promise ! " 
 
 And so they parted, 
 
 When Norah came down-stairs, she found 
 Mrs. Sandford in the hall with Mrs. Middle- 
 ton. The costume of the former was a work 
 of art, expressing chastened regret in the 
 most charming and becoming manner. She 
 was not one of the class of people who wear 
 black dresses to weddings, or gay ribbons at 
 a funeral ; it was a point of pride with her 
 to be always dressed according to the oc- 
 casion, and, since she was in a house of 
 mourning, she dressed, if not exactly in 
 mourning, at least in sympathy with mourn- 
 ing. It must have been a very dull person 
 who would not have appreciated at a glance 
 the exquisite sentiment displayed in her at- 
 tire. Her dress of black grenadine was re- 
 lieved by soft white frills of illusion, and, in- 
 stead of a jeweled pendant with a chain like a 
 cable, a plain gold cross on a band of black 
 velvet showed to great advantage the white 
 roundness of her throat. She came forward 
 after Mrs. Middleton had taken leave of No- 
 rah with an heroic effort to appear cordial 
 and held out her pretty, white hands, bound 
 with jet bands (also for sympathy) at the 
 wrists. 
 
 " I am so sorry that you are going, Miss 
 Desmond," she said her blue eyes wide open, 
 her dark (penciled) eyebrows arched " but 
 
 we must part good friends I insist upon that ! 
 You must forgive all the unlucky mistakes I 
 have made, one way or another, and, if you 
 ever come back to America, I shall be so glad 
 to see you at my house in Alton." 
 
 "You are very good," said Norah, in a 
 tone compounded equally of coldness and 
 scorn, " but it is not at all likely that I shall 
 ever come back to America" (this was what 
 Mrs. Sandford had specially desired to learn), 
 " I am willing to shake hands, however, and 
 wish you much health and happiness, if that 
 is what you mean by parting good friends." 
 
 " Oh, I mean more, much more than that," 
 said Mrs. Sandford, with effusion ; and before 
 the girl could draw back, she had leaned for- 
 ward and kissed her. " Have you no message 
 for Captain Tyndale ? " she asked then, with 
 the pleasure which she felt springing, whether 
 she would or no, into her eyes. " Surely you 
 are not going away without leaving a word 
 for him after your bravery in his behalf, too ! 
 I assure you that I shall be very glad to de- 
 liver any message." 
 
 " I have nothing with which to trouble 
 you," said Norah, even more coldly than be- 
 fore. She drew down her veil abruptly, and 
 turned to Mr. Middleton. "I am ready," she 
 said. 
 
 He put her into the carriage, and followed 
 himself. To do him justice, he would will- 
 ingly have gone with her to Alton, or even to 
 the seaboard, if Arthur Tyndale's funeral had 
 not interfered. But his first duty, as he said 
 to his wife, was there. He had told Miss 
 Desmond that, if she would defer her de- 
 parture for twenty-four hours, he would ac- 
 company her; but this offer Miss Desmond 
 declined. There was nothing for him to do, 
 therefore, but to take her to Wexford, see 
 her safely on the train, and telegraph to a 
 friend in Alton to meet her at that point and 
 see that she was safely started with a through- 
 ticket for New York. 
 
 Not more than half an hour after the car- 
 riage had rolled away, Mrs. Sandford was 
 sitting on the veranda alone feeling very 
 much depressed, exceedingly bored, and a 
 little inclined to regret that she had not 
 borne Miss Desmond company as far as Al- 
 ton. The only thing which kept her at Ros- 
 land now was the consideration of Max. She 
 was not likely to forget that his cousin's 
 death made him owner of Strafford, and much 
 more besides elevating him from a fair sub-
 
 218 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 ject for flirtation to a very good parti. The 
 fancy which she had entertained for him all the 
 time, she now felt could very readily become 
 more than a fancy-> in the light of this great 
 good fortune. He was one of the few men 
 whom she had ever met who was thoroughly 
 indifferent to her, and for that reason, more 
 than any other, perhaps, she had bent, and 
 was prepared yet to bend, all her energies to 
 his subjugation. She was thinking of him as 
 she sat under the green shade of the vines, in 
 a low, luxurious chair as bewitching a pict- 
 ure, taken all in all (stained eyebrows and 
 powdered complexion thrown in !) as a man 
 could ask to see even on that golden summer 
 afternoon. 
 
 But Mas Tyndale was not thinking of be- 
 witching pictures, or caring to see them, as 
 he crossed the lawn where he had last been 
 on the night of the dinner-party, and ascended 
 the veranda-steps on which he had parted 
 with Leslie when he went in search of Arthur. 
 These things haunted him, together with the 
 dead face he had left behind at Strafford, and, 
 though it was impossible for him not to de- 
 sire to meet Norah, he was able to say hon- 
 estly that he had not come to Rosland for 
 that purpose. He wanted to see Mr. Middle- 
 ton with regard to some of the final arrange- 
 ments which had been left undecided, and he 
 also wanted to escape from Strafford and the 
 intolerable gossips who filled it. Nothing was 
 further from his wishes, however, than to 
 meet Mrs. Sandford, and so he started, and 
 did not look particularly pleased, when that 
 fair widow rose out of the green nook and 
 waylaid him, with extended hands. 
 
 "Ah," she said, with a faltering voice, 
 " how can I tell you how glad, how very glad 
 I am to see you ! " 
 
 " Thanks you are very kind," said Max, 
 taking one of the hands he could not have 
 conveniently taken the other also, unless he 
 had dropped his hat on the floor and giving 
 it a nonchalant, indifferent shake which irri- 
 tated its owner very much. Then it occurred 
 to him that he ought to say that he was glad 
 to see her, but, since this would have been 
 stretching the truth to a really alarming ex- 
 tent, he asked, instead, how she was. 
 
 " Oh, thank you, quite well," she said for 
 she was very much piqued " I have not been 
 well," she added, on second thought, "but I 
 am better to-day at least this afternoon. 
 Captain Tyndale ! " a delicately worked and 
 
 scented handkerchief went to her eyes 
 " when I think of all that has occurred since 
 I saw you last, I oh, I wonder how we have 
 all lived through it !" 
 
 " We can live through a great deal," said 
 Max, knitting his straight, dark brows a little. 
 It is hard to say how this woman's artificial 
 words nnd tones jarred on him how he 
 shrank from hearing her touch with any shal- 
 low, ready-made platitudes the subject of that 
 tragedy which had been so awfully real. " How 
 is Miss Grahame ? " he asked. " It must have 
 been a terrible ordeal to her." 
 
 "Leslie bears it better than might have 
 been expected," said Mrs. Sandford ; " much 
 better, I am sure, than 1 could have done. 
 She seems almost like herself to-day though 
 her sister's departure was quite a shock to 
 her." 
 
 " I suppose you mean her going to Wex- 
 ford this morning," said he. " It was a shock 
 to me that is, I deeply regretted it but it 
 was so bravely and unconsciously done " 
 
 "Excuse me," interrupted his listener, 
 rather sharply, "I meant what I said lier 
 departure! I see that you are not aware that 
 she has left Rosland." 
 
 He started, and looked at her keenly. 
 " Do you mean that Miss Desmond has left 
 Rosland ? " he said. " Where is she going ? " 
 
 " She left half an hour ago. I think, as 
 well as I understood, that she is going to 
 Ireland. Of course it is very natural that she 
 cannot stay here after the expose which has 
 Good Gracious, Captain Tyudale ! What is 
 the matter ? What are you going to do ? " 
 
 " I am going to Wexford in order to see 
 Miss Desmond before she leaves," he an- 
 swered, turning quickly away. "It is" 
 glancing at his watch " only half-past three. 
 The Alton train is not due, I think I was told, 
 until four. That gives me time enough to 
 reach there." 
 
 " You are really very devoted," said Mrs. 
 Sandford, sarcastically. " But yon must par- 
 don me if I say that I doubt whether Miss 
 Desmond will be very glad to see you. At 
 least, I asked her exprcsf.h/ if she would not 
 leave a word or a message for you, and she 
 answered as coldly and curtly as possible 
 that she had nothing to say." 
 
 " I am unlike her, then," said he, quietly, 
 " for I have a great deal to say, and I am 
 sure you will excuse me if I go at once, in 
 order to be able to say it."
 
 MAX'S PROPOSAL. 
 
 219 
 
 He then made no further apology, but 
 went with all haste to the stable where, much 
 to the ostler's astonishment, he ordered out 
 the best saddle-horse. Five minutes later, he 
 was galloping out of the gates of Rosland. 
 
 Mrs. Sandford watched him, with bitter, 
 angry eyes, from the veranda. She knew 
 now that all was over, and the realization cost 
 her a very sharp pang. It was a pang in which 
 wounded vanity played a greater part than 
 wounded feeling; but it was none the less 
 hard to bear on that account. A lacerated 
 amour-propre is almost as painful as a lacer- 
 ated heart, though it is a very strong point in 
 its favor that it can be cured more readily. 
 She went into the house after the rider dis- 
 appeared from sight, and told her maid to 
 pack her trunk. " This time to-morrow I 
 shall go back to Alton," she said which was 
 her way of beginning a cure. 
 
 Max, the while, galloped, without draw- 
 ing rein, into Wexford, and, disregarding the 
 many curious glances cast on him, did not 
 pause until he found himself before the rail- 
 road-station. The train was already there, 
 had been there for some minutes, a lounger 
 told him. It was evident that he would not 
 have time for more than a word with Xorah, 
 but even a word was worth much, and his 
 eagerness for it increased with the apparent 
 hopelessness of gaining it. He sprang off his 
 horse, and, throwing the rein with a quick, 
 " Pray, oblige me ! " to the man who had 
 given the information, hurried along the plat- 
 form to the cars. As he came in sight of 
 them, the engine suddenly gave its warning 
 shriek of departure at the same moment he 
 saw Mr. Middleton shake hands quickly with 
 a veiled lady who sat by one of the open win- 
 dows the next instant, with a rumble and 
 clang of machinery the long train started into 
 motion and sped swiftly out of sight. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 " Fair, and kind, and gentle one t 
 
 Bo not morn and stars and flowers, 
 Pay that homage to their BUD, 
 That we pay to ours ? 
 
 " Sun of mine, that art so dear- 
 Sun that art above all sorrow ! 
 Shine, I pray thee, on me here 
 Till the eternal morrow t " 
 
 ON the deck of the Cunard steamer, out- 
 ward bound from Xew York on the Saturday 
 
 following Miss Desmond's departure from 
 Rosland, there was all the hurry, bustle, and 
 confusion, the shaking hands of friends, the 
 kisses of relations, the tears and laughter, the 
 good wishes, the waving handkerchiefs, the 
 brass-bound trunks and general boukversement 
 common to such occasions. In the midst of 
 it, a young lady who had come unattended on 
 board, walked across the deck, and, taking her 
 position on the side which overlooked the 
 water, not the wharf, quietly turned her back 
 upon all the commotion. There is nothing 
 in the world, perhaps, more forlorn than to 
 be alone in such a scene, to have no fare- 
 wells to give or receive, no friends to hope 
 that you may have a pleasant voyage, no hand 
 to clasp, no good wishes to exchange. But 
 to such a feeling of isolation, Norah Desmond 
 had long since grown accustomed. If she 
 felt it a little now if she was drearily Con- 
 scious of her loneliness amid all the eager, 
 chattering crowd no one would ever have 
 thought so, as she stood by the taffrail in all 
 the grace of her self-possessed bearing, with 
 her beautiful, clear-cut face turned seaward, 
 as if she drank in the salt breeze coming so 
 freshly from the wide, liquid plain which lay 
 far off. The attention of every one else being 
 turned toward the city they were leaving, she 
 was almost alone on this side of the deck ; 
 and, as she watched with wistful eyes the 
 distant horizon line, her mind left her present 
 surroundings to go back upon all that had oc- 
 curred the events which had followed each 
 other so fast since she landed here so short 
 a time before. How short a time it had been ! 
 and yet how much had happened ! Xorah 
 could scarcely realize how much. " Yet the 
 end of it all is that I am going back to the 
 old, weary life of vagabondage ! " she thought, 
 with something between a sigh and a sob. It 
 was a quick, nervous sound in her throat, 
 more significant of emotion than a hundred 
 undisguised sobs could have been. 
 
 But Bohemia teaches her children a better 
 philosophy than that of mourning over any 
 milk, spilt or otherwise. The old defiant light 
 came back to Norah's eyes in a minute, the 
 old defiant compression to her lips. " It is 
 the life to which I was born," she thought. 
 "What right have I to expect any other? 
 What is the sense of regretting that which is 
 past ? what is the sense of repining about 
 that which is to come ? The day is bright, 
 and the sea is smooth, and I well, I ana
 
 220 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 young. When one has youth, one has or 
 ought to have hope. The great world of 
 the Possible is all before me ; and yet and 
 yet" 
 
 Her head drooped a little. Was it a tear 
 that dropped into the briny, discolored water 
 below ? Just then Bohemia might have hesi- 
 tated to own her child ; and just then a tall 
 man, with long, dark mustaches and keen 
 dark eyes, who had been making his way in 
 a very inquisitive manner among the throng- 
 ing crowd on the other side of the deck, hur- 
 ried over to this side and looked around. 
 He had been the last passenger to come up 
 the ship's side, and as he stood there now, 
 with a wrap hanging carelessly across his 
 arm, there was a jaded look on his face, as if 
 he had traveled long and far. It was only a 
 second that he hesitated. The next instant 
 he caught sight of the stately, graceful figure 
 which he knew so well, and a few quick steps 
 took him to Norah's side. 
 
 " How glad I am to find you ! " he said, 
 breathlessly. " I was almost afraid that 
 there might be some mistake! that you 
 might not be on board ! " 
 
 " Captain Tyndale ! " exclaimed Xorah. 
 She turned upon him pale, astonished, quiver- 
 ing from head to foot. " How is this ? How 
 did you come here? " 
 
 " By rail most of the way," he answered, 
 smiling. It was such a pleasure to see her 
 again to meet her frank eyes, to hear her 
 sweet voice that it is likely he would have 
 smiled if he had been going to execution 
 the next minute. " Did you not know that I 
 was going to cross in this steamer ? " he 
 asked, with an admirable assumption of non- 
 chalance. " If I had not been just one min- 
 ute too late in reaching Wexford the day you 
 left thanks to Mrs. Sandford, who detained 
 me to hear that you had refused to leave me 
 even a message of common farewell I should 
 have told you so." 
 
 " You is it possible you are going to 
 cross?" said Norab, incredulously. "I did 
 not think that you would go abroad again 
 that is, so soon." 
 
 "May I ask, why not?" 
 
 " Because " she blushed and hesitated 
 " because you have inherited your cousin's 
 fortune, have you not ? " 
 
 " I believe people suppose that I have," he 
 answered, carelessly, " but I have not taken 
 time to ascertain whether they are right or 
 
 wrong. There was something nearer my heart, 
 and of much more importance to me than a 
 hundred inheritances could be," he added, 
 quickly. "Norah can you not guess what 
 that was?" 
 
 " You have become very familiar since 
 we parted, Captain Tyndale," said Koran, 
 who was herself again by this time. " IS~o, I 
 cannot guess in the least what it was, unless 
 you mean to resign your commission in the 
 French army. But, you should have taken a 
 French steamer, should you not ? " This will 
 land you at Liverpool, unless you land en 
 passant, as I shall do, at Queenstown." 
 
 "I should have taken no other steamer 
 than the one on which you sailed," be an- 
 swered. " As for my commission, I have not 
 thought of it any more than of my probable 
 inheritance. You know as well as I do," he 
 said, breaking off suddenly, in a quick, short, 
 passionate voice, " that I have thought only 
 of you ! " 
 
 "Of me!" ejaculated Norah, scarcely 
 knowing what she said. Her heart was beat- 
 ing and thrilling as it had not beat or thrilled 
 on that summer evening at Baden, when Ar- 
 thur Tyndale told his love, or on that autumn 
 evening at Coblentz, when he said good-by. 
 What she felt then had been flattered fancy, 
 girlish romance, any thing but this strange 
 feeling, which seemed to take away all her 
 graceful readiness of speech, and leave her as 
 silent and abashed as any convent-bred girl. 
 
 " Yes, of you," said Max, growing bolder, 
 as he saw the white lids sink over her eyes, 
 and the clear carmine come into her cheeks 
 as he had fancied one day at Rosland that he 
 should like to make it come. " Did I not tell 
 you when we parted in Wexford, after you 
 had borne so much for me, that I should see 
 you very soon again and did you think that 
 I would let such trifles as time and space 
 stand between you and the expression of my 
 gratitude ? " 
 
 "Spare me the expression of your grati- 
 tude, Captain Tyndale," said she, almost im- 
 patiently. " I have no claim on it no desire 
 for it. I did a very plain and simple act of 
 duty nothing more ! If there is any grati- 
 tude necessary in the matter, it is /who owe 
 it to you. It was you who were willing to en- 
 dure more than I like to remember for me ! " 
 " And did you not think did no instinct 
 tell you what a happiness it was to me to 
 endure any thing for you? " said he. " Did
 
 A SATISFACTORY ANSWER. 
 
 221 
 
 you not guess that much at least of the 
 truth ? " 
 
 " No," said she and her voice trembled. 
 " How could I guess it ? How could I think 
 that I was any thing to you but a girl whom 
 your cousin had narrowly escaped making a 
 fool of himself by marrying ? " 
 
 " If you were even that to me," said he, 
 " it was so long ago, that it seems swept into 
 the dimness of memory. What you have been 
 to me of late, I scarcely know how to tell you 
 without making you think that I have gone 
 wild with the extravagance of passion." 
 
 " I can scarcely fancy that," said she, 
 turning her face seaward again. The steamer 
 was out of the docks by this time, and a fresh 
 breeze met them a breeze to make the heart 
 leap up with the spirit of its gladness. It 
 deepened the flush on Norah's cheek, and 
 waved back the short fringe of her chestnut 
 hair, showing the fair, candid brow which it 
 has been the policy of fashion to conceal as 
 much as possible for some time past. She 
 looked more like a beautiful princess than 
 ever, Max thought, and the doubts and fears 
 which had borne him company on all the long 
 journey from Alton, came back upon him now 
 with sudden force. After all, would his heart 
 prove any thing more than a new plaything 
 to this fair Bohemian, this woman who had 
 jarred upon and disgusted him, and yet whom 
 he could no more help loving than the earth 
 could refuse to put forth bud and leaf and 
 flower at the bidding of the sun ? He could 
 not tell it was likely enough ; and yet, for 
 good or ill, his heart was hers. He knew 
 that now. Standing beside her, trying vainly 
 to read the riddle of her averted face, he felt 
 that he would freely sign away every other 
 good gift of life, if only he might claim and 
 possess this one for his otvu. At last, out of 
 very impatience, he broke the silence which 
 had lasted between them for some time. 
 
 " We are off! " he said. " We are on the 
 sea together, you and I ! Norah, you have 
 not told me yet are you glad or sorry that I 
 came ? " 
 
 "Is it necessary for me to be either?" 
 asked she, with a slight cadence of laughter 
 in her tone. After all, a man is deaf as well 
 as blind when he is in love, or Max would 
 have known every thing from that tone. 
 
 " You must be one or the other," said he. 
 "I am your only acquaintance on board, am 
 I not? In that case you will have to see so 
 
 much of me that you must be either glad or 
 sorry that I came." 
 
 " In that case, I suppose I am not sorry," 
 said she, smiling. " It is rather dull being 
 quite alone, though I ought to be used to it 
 by this time, and then I always manage to 
 make acquaintance, or, to put it more cor- 
 rectly, people manage to make my acquaint- 
 ance." 
 
 "I hope you will not let any of these 
 people make your acquaintance, for I am 
 selfish enough to want your society all to my- 
 self until we reach Queenslown." 
 
 " But can you not imagine that / might 
 like a little variety ? " asked she, laughing 
 again. " I might not want your society all 
 the time until we reach Queenstown ! " 
 
 " That is very true. I should have thought 
 of that, perhaps. Will you promise, then, to 
 take as much of me as you want, and to dis- 
 miss me without ceremony when you do not 
 want me ? " 
 
 " I am not sure that I should not dismiss 
 you at once," said she, turning her bright, 
 fearless eyes upon him. " I have had more 
 than enough of ' blarney ' in my life you 
 can imagine that, perhaps and ?uy head 
 ought to be steady enough to stand any 
 amount of it by this time ; but I am really 
 afraid of the effect of your blarney for nine 
 days at sea. Now, that is a compliment for 
 you," she ended, with a smile that was ratber 
 forced. 
 
 " I shall go back with the pilot if you say 
 so," he answered, quietly but his face grew 
 paler as he spoke. " You know why I have 
 come," he went on, after a short pause. " I 
 only waited at Strafford, as I was in duty 
 bound to do, until poor Arthur's funeral was 
 over. Then I followed you, without pause or 
 rest, as fast as steam could bring me, in order 
 to say, face to face, that I love you : in order 
 to ask you to be my wife. Norah " with a 
 passionate cadence in his voice " you cannot 
 imagine half how well I love you ! Norah, 
 will you not be my wife ? " 
 
 Only the simple words as they rose out of 
 his heart to his lips. No eloquence no at- 
 tempt at eloquence. Indeed, men rarely use 
 fine phrases when they arc in such deep 
 earnest as Max Tyndale was then ; and he on 
 his part felt the suspense too sharply not to 
 desire to end it at once. But it was not ended 
 as far as any word from Norah Desmond was 
 concerned. She turned her face from him
 
 222 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 quickly almost abruptly and gazed seaward 
 again. Yet, as she gazed, a mist came over 
 her sight, obscuring all the green beauty of 
 the waves, and her heart seemed beating in 
 her throat. It was not altogether her fault 
 that she was silent ; she tried to speak, and 
 failed to utter a word. So, after a minute, 
 Max went on : 
 
 " Norah, is there no hope for me ? I sup- 
 pose I am mad to come to you like this mad 
 to think that you, who have known so many 
 men, could learn to love me but I could not 
 bear to leave any chance untried. I could 
 not bear to burden my life with the haunting 
 regret of thinking that I might, perhaps, have 
 won you if I had only spoken in time. I 
 thought it better to risk every thing on a 
 single stake, and rise up winner or loser for 
 life. Norah which is it to be ? " 
 
 " How can you speak to me like this ? " 
 said she, turning upon him passionately. 
 " You know you do not love me or, if you 
 do, it is merely after a fashion, for my pretty 
 face ! You do not care for me as as you care 
 for Leslie ! You are enough of a gentleman 
 to have showed me more respect than any one 
 ever did before for which, to my dying day, I 
 shall never, never forget you ! But, in your 
 heart you hold me in the colors Arthur Tyn- 
 dale painted me. You think me fast Bohe- 
 mian, bizarre " 
 
 She paused abruptly, or, to speak more 
 correctly, he interrupted her by taking into 
 his possession the hand lying on the taffrail. 
 
 " Do not wrong yourself and me by such 
 words as these ! " he said. " I think of you as 
 
 I think of the sun which is giving life to the 
 world. You are my sun the only one thing 
 which can give light and fragrance to my life. 
 Not care for you as I care for Leslie Gra- 
 hame! My darling, are you blind? Leslie 
 Grahame is nothing to me, and you are every 
 thing every thing, Norah ! What I may 
 once have thought of you in what colors 
 poor Arthur may once have painted you 
 has passed from me as absolutely as if it 
 had never been. I can neither ask nor de- 
 sire any change in you as I know you and 
 love you now ! " 
 
 She looked up at him with tears, which 
 she did not try to conceal, shining in her 
 eyes. A new beauty a beauty full of the 
 most exquisite softness came over her face. 
 It was the happy content of the child min- 
 gled with the tender joy of the woman. 
 
 " Are you in earnest ? " she said. " Do 
 you really think all this of me ? It is very 
 good of you, but you are wrong quite wrong. 
 I am full of faults which will shock you and 
 jar upon you. Think what my life has been ! 
 You cannot tell you cannot even guess 
 half that I have gone through ! " 
 
 " You shall never go through any more 
 never so long as God gives me power to shield 
 you ! " he said. Then he covered her hand 
 eagerly in both his own. "You have not 
 told me yet whether I must go back with the 
 pilot or not," he said. " Norah, my darling, 
 must I go or stay ? " 
 
 And Norah's eyes as well as Norah's lips 
 answered 
 
 "Stay!" 
 
 THE END.
 
 APPLETONS' LIBRARY 
 
 *** Appletons' Library of American Fiction consists of select novels by American authors, pub- 
 lished in neat octavo volumes, for popular circulation, and usually accompanied with illustrations. 
 
 (. Valerie Aylmer. 8vo. Paper, price, $1.00 ; cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " Ono of the best and most readable novels of the season." Philadelphia, Post. 
 
 "The story is of marked and sustained interest." Chicago Journal. 
 
 ' The author is one of the rising and brilliant lights of American literature. 1 " Portland Argus. 
 
 "The story is very interesting, and admirably written." Charleston Courier. 
 
 2* The Lady Of the Ice. By JAMES DE MILLE. With Illustrations. 8vo. Paper, 
 price, 75 cents; cloth, $1.25. 
 
 This is a capital summer-book bright, dashing, and full of atnusin<r adventure. It has all the vivacity 
 aud dash that made the author's former novels so distinguished. Mr. De Mille unites humorous with stirring 
 description more successfully, perhaps, than any other American writer ; he is always bright, vivid, dramatic, 
 picturesque, and entertaining. 
 
 3. Morton House. By the Author of "Valerie Aylmer." With Illustrations. 8vo 
 
 Paper. Price, 1.00; cloth, $1.50. 
 1 For the sake of our literature we trust that the author will not pause in her new career, which certainlj 
 
 York Evening Mail. 
 -Philadelphia Age. 
 
 " Interestirigtrom beginning to~end." Eclectic Magazine. 
 " It is long, very long since we have read an American novel of any thing like equal merit" Philadelphia 
 Press. 
 
 4. Righted at Last. A NOVEL. With Illustrations. 8vo. Paper. Price, $1.00; 
 
 cloth, $1.50. 
 
 "Intensely interesting from beginning to end." St. Louis Republican. 
 "An interesting story of New England life." Portland Transcript. 
 "Her book is more than readable ; in many parts it is fascinating." New Haven Courier. 
 " Never devoid of interest." Nashville Union. 
 
 6. Mabel Lee. By the Author of " Morton House " and " Yalerie Aylmer." With Illus- 
 
 trations. 8vo. Paper. Price, 81.00 ; cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " A story of absorbing interest." St. Louis Republican. 
 
 " A tale of vivid interest: full of natural, striking characterization." Banner of the South. 
 
 " The story is one of thrilling interest.'* New Itork Express. 
 
 " A capital picture of Southern character and society." Boston Gazette. 
 
 ' No American author of to-day charms us so much." Portland Argus. 
 
 & Doctor Vandyke a A NOVEL. By JOHN ESTEN COOKE. With Illustrations. One 
 vol., 8vo. Paper, 75 cents ; cloth, $1.25. 
 
 "John Esten Cooke has made us again Ms debtor by the excellent story of ' Doctor Vandyke. 1 "Horn* 
 Journal. 
 
 " Mr. Cooke delights to recall the old days of Virginia's colonial features." Literary World. 
 " This is a well-conceived story of colonial life in Virginia." Charleston News. 
 
 7. Ebb-Tide. A NOVEL. By CHRISTIAN REID. Author of "Valerie Aylmer," "Morton 
 
 House," etc. 
 
 " ' Ebb-Tide ' is a story of power and pathos, and will be much admired." Boston Commonwealth. 
 
 " Scenes and incidents portrayed with vividness and skill." Boston Traveller. 
 
 " The plot is interesting and well developed, and the style is both spirited and clear." Boston Gazette. 
 
 8. An Open Question. 
 
 'It is a very lively and pleasant book, and is profusely illustrated." Troy Budget. 
 
 " There is enough of adventure in this tale to suffice for three or four ordinary works." Phtta. Inquirer. 
 
 " It is a spicy, readable book." Toledo Commercial. 
 
 " Of all the novels of this versatile writer, this can claim the right of preeminence." Inter- Ocean. 
 
 9. Spicy. A NOVEL. By Mrs. MARTHA J. LAMB. 8vo. Illus. Paper, $1.00 ; cloth, $1.50. 
 " This story is exceedingly entertaining and highly creditable to the author." Golden Age. 
 
 " An exceptional refinement pervades this story, plot, incidents, aud personages." Philadelphia Age. 
 "It is, emphatically, a spicy novel." Hampshire Gazette. 
 
 IO. Lakeville; or, Substance and Shadow. B 
 
 " One of the best and most elaborate novels of the season." Philadelphia Age. 
 
 " A very entertaining story, with several remarkably well-drawn characters." Boston Globe. 
 
 " It is written by the daughter of the eminent portrait-painter." Chicago Post. 
 
 I ! Nina's Atonement* A Novel. By CHRISTIAN REID. With Illustrations. 
 
 Price, Paper, $1.00 ; cloth, $1.50. 
 Either of the above mailed, post-paid, to any part of the United States, on receipt of price. 
 
 D, APPLETON & CO,, Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N, Y,
 
 The Masterpieces of Fiction at a Marvel of Cheapness. 
 
 J. FENIMORE COOPER'S NOVELS. 
 
 NEW AND CHEAP EDITION. 
 
 " The enduring monuments of Fenimore Cooper are 7iia works. 'While the lore of country continues to pre- 
 vail, his memory will exist in the hearts of the people. So truly patriotic and American throughout, they 
 should find a place in every American's library.'''' DANIEL WEBSTEK. 
 
 The undersigned have commenced the publication of a new LIBRARY EDITION OP COOPER'S NOVELS, well printed, 
 and bound in handsome style. The volumes will be issued rapidly, in the following order : 
 
 *1. THE SPY. 
 *2. THE PILOT. 
 *8. RED ROVEK. 
 *4. THE DEEKSI.AYER. 
 *5. THE PATHFINDER. 
 *6. THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 
 "7. THE PIONEERS. 
 *8. THE PRAIRIE. 
 9. LIONEL LINCOLN. 
 10. WEPT OF WISH-TON- WISH. 
 *11. THE WATER- WITCH. 
 
 12. THE BRAVO. 
 
 13. MERCEDES OF CABTILE. 
 
 14. THE Two ADMIRALS. 
 
 15. AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 
 
 16. MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 *17. WING AND WING. 
 
 18. OAK OPENINGS. 
 
 19. SATANSTOE. 
 
 20. THE CHAIN-BEARER, 
 
 21. THE RED-SKINS. 
 
 22. THE CRATER. 
 
 23. HOMEWARD BorND. 
 24 HOME AS FOUND. 
 
 25. HEIDENMATJER. 
 
 26. THE HEADSMAN. 
 
 27. JACK TIER. 
 
 23. THE SEA LIONS. 
 
 29. WYANDOTTE. 
 
 30. THE MONIKINS. 
 
 31. PRECAUTION. 
 
 32. WAYS OF THE IIouu. 
 
 12mo, Brown Cloth, gilt side and back, $1.50 per volume. Those volumes marked * are issued in Svo, Paper, with 
 eight Illustrations by Darley, 75 cents ; Cloth, $1.25. " Leather-Stocking " Tales, five volumes in one, Cloth, $4.00. 
 
 A NEW AND CHEAP EDITION OF 
 
 MARRYATS POPULAR NOVELS, 
 
 At Fifty Cents per Volume. Handsomely printed, from large, clear type, on good paper, and of convenient 
 size. 12mo. With an illustrated paper cover. The whole to consist of 
 
 1. Midshipman Easy. 
 9. Peter simple. 
 8. Jacob Faithful. 
 4. Naval Olllcer. 
 
 5. King's Own. 
 
 6. Jnphet In Search of a Father. 
 t. Newton Forster. 
 
 8. Pacha of Many Tales. 
 
 9. The Poacher. 
 
 10. The Phantom Ship. 
 
 11. Snnrlejow. 
 
 12. Percl vnl Keene. 
 
 THE WAVERLEY NOVELS, 
 
 At the uniform price of twenty-five cents per volume, each volume illustrated with an engraved frontispiece, 
 and bound with an illuminated tartan cover. Complete in 25 volumes, as follows : 
 
 1. Waver ley. 
 8. Ivanhoe. 
 R. Keiiilworth. 
 4. Guy Mannerlng. 
 ft. Antiquary. 
 6. Itob Koy. 
 ?. Old Mortality. 
 8. The Black Dwarf, and A Le- 
 gend of M ontrose. 
 
 9. Bride of Ijnmmermoor. 
 
 10. Heart of Midlothian. 
 
 11. The Monastery. 
 
 12. The Abbot. 
 18. The Pirate. 
 
 14. Fortunes of Nigel. 
 
 15. Peveril of the Peak. 
 
 16. Quentiii Durward. 
 
 17. St. Uonan'g Well. 
 
 18. Redgaiintlet. 
 
 19. The Betrothed, mid IZ1 
 
 land Widow. 
 SO. The Talisman. 
 21. Woodstock. 
 
 25. Fair Mnld of Perth. 
 28. Anne of Gelersteln. 
 24. Count Robert of Paris. 
 
 26. The Surgeon's Daughter. 
 
 For SIX DOLLARS we will send by mail, prepaid, the entire set of WAVERLEY NOVELS, and a copy of a 
 new Steel-plate Portrait of Sir Walter Scott, suitable for framing. 
 
 For TEN DOLLARS we will send by mail, prepaid, a set of DICKENS (in uniform style), 18 volumes, and 
 WAVERLEY, 25 volumes. The cheapest Ten Dollars' worth to be found in the whole' rauge of Literature. 
 Forty- three volumes for ten dollars ! 
 
 WORKS OF CHARLES DICKENS, 
 
 Handsomely printed from clear type, on good paper, and of convenient size. Now complete in 18 volumes. 
 
 at the annexed prices : 
 
 BLEAK HOUSE 840 pp . . . 35 cts 
 
 LITTLE DOKRIT 330" 35 
 
 .30 
 
 OLIVER TWIST 172 pp 35 cts. 
 
 AMERICAN NOTES 104 ....15 " 
 
 DOMBEY & SON 356 85 " 
 
 MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT 342 35 " 
 
 OUR MUTUAL FRIEND 330 35 " 
 
 CHRISTMAS STORIES 162 25 " 
 
 TALE OF Two CITIES 144 20 " 
 
 HARD TIMES, AND ADDITIONAL 
 
 CHRISTMAS STORIES 200 25 " 
 
 NICHOLAS N.CKLEBY 340 35 " 
 
 Any volume mailed, post free, on receipt of price. 
 
 On receipt of $ 5.00 we will mail to any address, post-paid, the entire works of Charles Dickens, and also 
 a Steel-plate Portrait of Biciicns, suitable for framing. 
 
 PICKWICK PAPERS 326 
 
 DAVID COPPERFIELD 351 
 
 BAUNABY RUDGE 257 
 
 OLD CURIOSITY SHOP 221 
 
 SKETCHES , 196 
 
 GREAT EXPECTATIONS 184 
 
 UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELLER, E,TC 300 
 EDWIN DBOOD 103 
 
 ....25 
 ....25 
 ....35 
 ...20 
 
 D, APPLETON & CO,, Publishers, New York,
 
 ^mpedbelo,/.
 
 UCLA-Young Research Library 
 
 PS3066 .026 
 yr 
 
 ' II II || 
 
 L 009 586 660 4 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 AA 001 221 158 7