V
 
 
 .~x 
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THB walls of tb* pretty co';<tfr *own of Harbury, in 
 Kent, were all placarded with the name of Martin Ray 
 Martin Ray, the Radical, the Reformer ; " the Voice of the 
 People " ; as he liked best to call himself ; the philanthropist, 
 the hater of queen and aristocracy, the teacher of treason ; 
 the man who worked for, yet lived upon the people ; 
 the man who was half genius, half madman, half poet, 
 full of great thoughts all distorted, full of grand ideas 
 all wrong ; a man whose 1'ps had been touched by 
 the divine fire of eloquence, who could stir the hearts 
 of the people as the wind stirs the leaves ; a man who had 
 magnificent conceptions of what the world might be made, 
 yet failed utterly in making them practical ; a man over 
 whom a wise government hesitates, hardly knowing whether 
 to crush him or to take him by the hand and make a friend 
 of him. More than one prime minister had knitted his 
 brows over the name of Martin Ray ; more than one popular 
 outburst had followed the fire of this man's words. He 
 was earnest and sincere. He hated everything that apper- 
 tained to royalty ; against the queen as a woman he said 
 never a woi'u against her as the head of the State he ut- 
 tured thunders of wrath. The aristocracy he hated with
 
 4 A BROKEN WEDDING-RINC. 
 
 honest hatred. He would have taken the broad acres at 
 duke and earl and shared them among the laboring poor. 
 He protested that the monopoly of wealth by a few was a 
 gross injustice to the many ; he swore that he would give 
 his life to undo the wrong ; at the same time, he was con- 
 tent to live himself upon the subscriptions of the people 
 whom he misled and excited to sedition. 
 
 He could be tracked easily as the flaming fire 
 that lays bare the prairie. Wherever he went he was fol- 
 lowed by loud murmurs of popular discontent, and then 
 came riot and imprisonment. In quiet hamlets, in sleepy 
 villages, in peaceful towns, in factories, workshops, and 
 garrets, his words fell, and set fire to those who listened. 
 
 At Harbury there had been a trial for bribery at the 
 'ections. " There is sure to be a flaw in the armor there," 
 ought Martin Ray ; <; it is the very piace for a paying lect- 
 ure by the ' working-man's friend.' " So the walls of the 
 old town were j..^oarded with the name of Martin Ray, the 
 famous Radical, and the people thirsted to see the new 
 champion of popular rights. Harbury had always been a 
 quiet Conservative town, the inhabitants of which had 
 rarely troubled themselves with politics, save at election 
 times ; but now among the poor and the artisan class a new 
 light was spreading. They were no longer to be repressed 
 and contemned ; every man was to have his due ; there 
 should be none very rich, none very poor. And the 
 man who was to help in the accomplishment of all this was 
 coming "the Voice of the People," Martin Ray. No 
 wonder that the old walls were placarded, and that every 
 gate and door bore his name. 
 
 The largest placard of all was that opposite the house 
 of Amos Hatton, who lived in Castle Street, Harbury, the 
 last descendant of what had once been a wealthy and 
 powerful family. For generations they had faded and de- 
 cayed j they had no longer houses or lands, nor even post-
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING RING. 5 
 
 tion; and Amos Hatton had been compelled to apply 
 himself to one of the professions. He was a solicitor, with 
 a small but paying practice ; and, being a staunch Conserv- 
 ative, the name of Martin Ray in large letters opposite to 
 his door displeased him greatly. 
 
 When he came down to breakfast on this fine May 
 morning, there the words were, looking him defiantly in the 
 face, while his pretty daughter Doris was gazing at them 
 intently. She turned when he entered. 
 
 " Papa," she asked, " what is a Radical ? " 
 
 The old lawyer's face flushed hotly. 
 
 " I will not answer you until I feel calmer ; to say the 
 least of it, it is most atrocious to place that name there." 
 
 The girl looked at it with softened eyes. 
 
 "Martin Ray," she said "it is not a bad name, 
 papa." 
 
 *' It is not the name, but the man," rejoined the lawyer. 
 " The fellow is capable of anything ; and unfortunately he 
 is a fine orator, they say." 
 
 " I should like to hear him," said Doris. 
 
 " Hear him ! Do you want your ears to burn, Doris, 
 through listening to such doctrines as his ? Take my word 
 for it, the man who does not believe in and serve his 
 queen fails to serve his Maker." 
 
 Doris made no answer, but in her heart she said that 
 such a sweeping condemnation was unfair that many men 
 to whom the word " royalty," even, was an abomination tried 
 their best to lead a pure life. 
 
 " I do not see what politics have to do with religion," 
 said Doris dreamily. 
 
 " When a man is true in one thing, he is likely to be 
 true in all," declared the lawyer ; " and if he is false in one, 
 he is apt to be false in all. Give me my hat, Doris j I will 
 have that poster down." 
 
 His daughter smiled* 
 
 2135:115
 
 6 A BROKEN 1 WEDDING-RING. 
 
 M You can tear down the bill, papa , but you cannot re- 
 move the man," she said. 
 
 "Unfortunately, no; if I could, I would have him 
 locked up." 
 
 " I should like to hear him," said Doris. " I have 
 never heard a really eloquent speaker. May I go to tha 
 lecture ? " 
 
 " I shall be ashamed if you do," replied the lawyer. 
 
 But Doris laughed. 
 
 " Not quite that. Sir John Darke is going, with his 
 wife and daughters. I should like to go also." 
 
 " Well, you can go, Doris that is, if your cousin will 
 accompany you. Just once will not matter, and it will 
 prove to you what nonsense such men talk. You will cer- 
 tainly hear a fine orator. I have heard that Martin Ray's 
 words fall like flame and set his hearers' hearts on fire. 
 Go, but do not mention the man's name to me again." 
 
 Mr. Hatton finished his tea and went off to the office, 
 where, in the intricacies of " Luvson v. Gother," he forgot 
 all about Martin Ray ; nor did he dream that a tragedy had 
 Vgun that day. 
 
 Harbury was a quiet town, with very few amusements, 
 and such a thing as a great political lecture, no matter on 
 what side, was not to be neglected. 
 
 Doris Hatton was well pleased to go. She had all her 
 life heard her father speak of Radicals as of a class of 
 beings quite different from other men. Here was a chance 
 of seeing the enemy. Partly because she had nothing else 
 to do, partly because fate or destiny led her, Doris Hatton 
 went to the lecture. 
 
 Looking over the sea of faces, changing, brightening, 
 or darkening under the fire or scorn of his words, Martin 
 Ray saw one that lived in his heart for evermore a pale, 
 refined, pretty face, with great earnest eyes and a tender 
 mouth, the fa/,eoi ;a girl who mus* he a hero-worshipper by
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING RING. f 
 
 nature. The expression of it was rapt and attentive ; the eyes 
 never left his ; the face paled, the lips quivered, the eyes 
 brightened, and the face flushed as he changed his theme. It 
 was like playing on some grand harp ; touch what chords he 
 would, the response was certain. After awhile the girl's 
 face held him captive he* found himself speaking to it, 
 thinking of it, watching it as it changed and paled. It was 
 no longer himself and his audience, but himself and this 
 girl. He was explaining to her his doctrine ; imbuing her 
 mind with his ideas. 
 
 Martin Ray surpassed himself this evening ; the young 
 face inspired him ; and, although among his listeners were 
 many who dissented from him, who believed him to be al- 
 most criminally wrong, no one could help admiring the 
 earnest discourse of " the Voice of the People." Those 
 \vho disagreed with him regretted that so much talent 
 should be abused ; those who believed in him gave him an 
 ovation, and feasted him royally in the old town of Har- 
 bury. 
 
 All night Martin Ray dreamed of one face, one pair of 
 eyes ; and, when morning dawned, he felt that the common 
 lot of humanity was his at last he loved the fair unknown 
 girl with a love that naught could change. 
 
 He found out who she was ; she was Doris Hatton, the 
 only daughter of the stanch old solicitor, who would be 
 his greatest political enemy. He tried to get an introduc- 
 tion at the house, but failed completely. Amos Hatton 
 would not receive him. Still Martin Ray could not tear 
 himself from the girl ; and he found means to meet her and 
 to tell her how well he loved her. 
 
 Doris Hatton was always inclined to take a romantic 
 view of matters, and she made of the man a perfect hero. 
 All the ideas and theories of her life were upset. She be- 
 lieved this man, with his dark eyes and fervid thoughts, to 
 be a prophet among the people. At his bidding, down
 
 S A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 went the altars of her youth ; loyalty, obedience, reverence 
 for superiors all vanished, and before her spread the 
 wide plain of universal equality. She loved Martin Ray 
 with perfect love, such as he could have won from no other 
 creature living. There was a long struggle in her heart 
 between allegiance to her father and this swift, sweet, new- 
 born love ; but, as this new teacher told her, the old land- 
 marks were swept away, they existed no longer no father 
 had a right to interfere with the marriage of his children. 
 Through the sweet month of May, while the hawthorn 
 bloomed on the hedges and the clover grew, he contrived 
 to see her every evening. He found that Harbury was a 
 good school. He wrote to the committee of which he was 
 the head, and said that he should remain there while he 
 founded a society, and taught the people what were work- 
 men's rights and wrongs. He labored honestly enough, 
 and in the intervals of work he secretly wooed Doris 
 Doris, who wondered how this man, so gifted, so different 
 from other men, came to love her Doris, who believed in 
 his dreams and his visions, and who foresaw a time when 
 all men would be equal, when poverty and toil would be 
 done away with, and universal peace, charity, harmony, and 
 comfort reign. Martin Ray, her hero, was to bring about 
 this. She did not know then that Marti ti Ray lived in 
 luxury on the money that should have fed the children or 
 the poor with bread She had to learn the hardest of al) 
 kssons the difference between precept and practice. 
 
 
 j a u
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING, 
 
 CHAPTER II, 
 
 AMOS HATTON stormed and raved when he received a 
 letter from Martin Ray, asking for his daughter's hand. 
 Nothing could exceed his wrath and indignation. 
 
 " You have good blood in your veins," he cried to the 
 trembling girl. " You have ancestors who fought and died 
 died, mind you for king and country, and you ask me 
 if you may marry the man who has boasted that, if no one 
 else were found willing, he himself would behead every 
 sovereign reigning. He said that in his last lecture at 
 Manchester. I read the words, and wondered at the pa 
 tienre of his listeners ; and you, my gentle, well-born, well- 
 bred Doris, you could marry him ! " 
 
 " I love him I cannot help it, papa. You misjudge 
 him," she answered, despairingly. " I must love him ; no 
 one understands him but me." 
 
 " Must love him ! " repeated Amos Hatton. " Why, 
 child, if you could but see, it is he, and such as he, who 
 are the greatest enemies of the people." 
 
 " You do not know him ! " she exclaimed. " He is a 
 hero ! " 
 
 " Hero ! Nonsense, Doris ; heroes do not live on the 
 earnings of the people. Heroes do and dare ; this man 
 incites others to deeds he dares not do himself. I should 
 not object to see a cart-load of such heroes sent off to Van 
 Diemen's Land." 
 
 " You are unjust, papa," she cried. " I cannot help it ; 
 I love him. Oh, if you could but see how it is ! He wants 
 me to be his wife and r ' Ipmate. I am to assist him 
 in his work. O, papa d not see how grand is the 
 
 mission he offers me ? to be to the women, of Eog 
 
 land what he is to the. nfJ
 
 , A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! " exclaimed Amos Hatton. " I would 
 rather, dearly as I love you, see you in your grave. I 
 would rather," he added passionately, " far rather see you 
 dead than the wife of Martin Ray. 
 
 " And I," she replied, raising her pale, fair face to him, 
 " would rather die than forsake him or give him up 1 " 
 
 " You must choose between us, Doris," said her father, 
 trying to speak calmly. " If you marry him, I will never 
 look upon your face again, I will never speak to you or 
 hear your voice ; you will be no child of mine ; I will cast 
 you off from me." 
 
 She uttered a low cry of pain and despair. 
 
 " I wonder," she said " if ever a girl had to choose be- 
 tween her father and her lover before ? " 
 
 " Yes," he replied ; " hundreds. As a rule, they choose 
 the lover ; but you ought to be an exception Doris yow 
 ought not to be of the common run of girls. I expect 
 more from you. I will not take your answer yet ; you must 
 think it over. It is not for a few days or months that you have 
 to decide, but for life, Doris. My dear, try to disabuse 
 yourself of the notion that Martin Ray is a hero. He is 
 nothing of the kind. He is a paltry, miserable schemer, 
 who lives upon the hard earnings of the people he mis- 
 leads." 
 
 " You cannot understand his aims, papa ! " she cried 
 despairingly. 
 
 " Nor do I wish to understand them. For the matter 
 of that, you do not, Doris ; neither does he himself. I 
 could tell you what his aims are far better than he could. 
 Think well, Doris, before you decide. Your brother, Arthur, 
 if I judge him rightly, will agree with me. You will give us 
 both up for a stranger, a Radical, a demagogue ! Bah ! I have 
 no patience to speak of it ! " 
 
 This conversation took place on a bright June morn- 
 ing. The lawyer had writtea a brief, contemptuous reply 

 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. M 
 
 to Martin Ray's letter requesting his daughter's hand, and 
 then sent for Doris to his study. He had fancied it would 
 be easy to influence her. He believed that he had only to 
 Jiefuse, and she would forget all about the proposal. He 
 had found that he was mistaken. The new love was 
 stronger than the old ; hero-worship had a greater charm 
 than mere obedience. 
 
 Amos Hatton gave his daughter a few days to decide 
 upon her fate in life. She took the decision into her own 
 hands, and married Martin Ray but not with her father's 
 consent or blessing. She stole from the house one sunny 
 morning never to enter it again. She kissed her father on 
 the evening before, and never saw his face or heard his 
 voice again. She married the man whom she believed to 
 be a hero, and reaped her reward. 
 
 There was some little surprise and consternation in 
 Harbury when it was known that Doris Hatton had mar- 
 ried the young demagogue, whose appearance had created 
 a social whirlwind. 
 
 " What could she see in him, a pretty, sensible girl like 
 Doris ? " people asked each other. 
 
 Few understood the attraction that such a man would 
 have for a romantic, sentimental girl. Doris thought no 
 lot in the world one-half so brilliant as hers. 
 
 Amos Hatton was a heart-broken man. He had but 
 two children, and he had loved them with the deepest pos- 
 sible love. His son Arthur, a handsome, spirited boy, 
 eight years older than his sister, had chosen the army for 
 a profession ; and quite early in his career he had received 
 an excellent military appointment in India, where he was 
 rapidly accumulating fame and fortune. Doris, his fair 
 daughter, was the very pride of his heart. For her the 
 old lawyer had worked and toiled, only to see himself for- 
 saken for a man whom he hated and despised. His heart 
 was bitter, and his \vrath was great. He wrote to his son
 
 | 9 A BROKEN WEDDING-KING. 
 
 in India, telling him what had happened, and bidding him 
 to drive all memory of his sister from him for ever. Then 
 Amos Hatton made another will, in which he left all his 
 property to his son ; and when he spoke of Doris it was 
 as of one dead. Everything that had ever belonged to 
 her piano, books, pictures, clothes, ornaments was sent 
 after her. In the lawyer's pleasant, old-fashioned house 
 in Harbury not a trace was left of the daughter once so 
 
 beloved. He faded quickly after that. 
 
 ****** * * 
 
 The three years that followed his marriage were per- 
 haps the most brilliant of Martin Ray's life. The worship 
 and adoration of his young wife stimulated him. He posi- 
 tively began to believe himself what she imagined him to 
 be. He began to think of himself as a true philanthro- 
 pist, one born to help the people as half prophet, half 
 martyr as the man chosen by all England to represent the 
 wants, the wrongs, and the wishes of the working-classes. 
 He began to imagine that the divine mantle of genius 
 had fallen on him, that he was chosen by Providence to be 
 a leader among men, and he was stimulatad to greater, 
 grander action. His name became almost a power in the 
 land. 
 
 It broke the old lawyer's heart every time he opened a 
 newspaper to read such words as " Riot in Liverpool," 
 44 Seditious Movement in Manchester," " Growth of Dis- 
 loyalty among the Lower classes." " Disaffection at Hull ; " 
 then at times he would see a paragraph calling attention 
 to Martin Ray to his fiery eloquence, to his wonderful in- 
 fluence over the masses. The old lawyer would clinch his 
 hands as he read. This stirrer-up of sedition, this man 
 who was like a firebrand, who moved as a scorching 
 flame over the fair, green, loyal land, this man who openly 
 preached rebellion, spoliation, and treason this man had 
 taken his bright young daughter from him, and left him in
 
 A BROKEN WEDDINF-RING. 13 
 
 anguish and sorrow. He said nothing; but slowly and 
 surely it broke his heart. 
 
 One morning when he opened his newspaper he saw a 
 long account of a grand political meeting in London, and 
 the event of the day was the speech of Martin Ray. No 
 one had heard its equal for burning eloquence, for Uto- 
 pian ideas, for schemes and plans which were utterly 
 unfeasible. It was a speech that made a loyal man long to 
 see the one who gave utterance to it punished for it. Amos 
 Hatton read it. Bitterness, anger, and regret filled his 
 heart ; he suffered terribly. His emotion brought on a 
 fit, and when his clerk went into the office he found him 
 with his head on the table. The doctor who was hastily 
 summoned said that he had been dead for an hour. 
 
 He was generally regretted, and many people won- 
 dered if the hapless daughter would attend her father's 
 funeral. She did not. Martin Ray would not allow it. 
 
 " He discarded you in life," he said, " you shall not 
 return to him in death." 
 
 The news of his decease was sent to India, where his 
 son Arthur grieved heartily for him. According to his 
 will, everything that he possessed house, furniture, pic- 
 tures, plate, business, railway-shares mining shares was 
 sold, and the money was sent to his son. 
 
 Arthur took it, and doubled it in a tew years. He 
 thought of his little sister Doris with something like re- 
 morse, but made up his mind that when he returned to 
 England he would seek her out, and at least share the 
 money with her. 
 
 So Amos Hatton was buried and in due time forgotten. 
 Doris mourned long and deeply for him. The time of her 
 disenchantment had not yet arrived. She still believed in 
 her husband as a great hero and an excellent man. None 
 of her illusions had been dispelled, and her happiness had 
 been crowned by the birth of two little daughters beaut*
 
 I 4 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING 
 
 ful children, the eldest of whom she had named Leah, and 
 the second Hettie. She was wonderfully happy, this sweet, 
 gentle Doris, who thought no husband and no children 
 equal to her own. Cut off from all her former associations 
 and friends, thrown entirely ou her husband for society, no 
 wonder that her life narrowed and her v/orld became cen- 
 tered in him. 
 
 It did not take her many years to find out that her idol 
 was of clay, to discover that he was no prophet, no martyr, 
 that he cared little for the consequences of his seditious 
 language and the fire he put into the hearts of the people, 
 provided only that he made money and lived in comfort, 
 that his eloquence was a great natural gift which he would 
 just as cheerfully have turned to any other purpose, that v 
 stripped of all the ideal qualities she had ascribed to him, 
 he was simply a shrewd man of powerful intellect, rather 
 more egotistical and more selfish than most of his fellows. 
 
 Some wives live and die without either seeing their 
 husband's faults or discerning their weaknesses. It was 
 not so with Doris. The fact that she had been once 
 blinded seemed to make her more clear-sighted afterward. 
 The time came when she stood appalled at what she had 
 done when the clap-trap sentiments that she had once 
 thought so heroic and grand appeared to her in their true 
 light. The knowledge brought on a severe illness, and she 
 died, leaving her two little daughters, Leah and Hettie. But, 
 before she died, she wrote a letter to her far-off brother, 
 who had never seen her since she was a child, owning to* 
 him that her marriage had been a fatal mistake, and pray, 
 ing him to take charge of her children to save them, to 
 rescue them, if he could, from a fatal and unwholesome 
 atmosphere, and do the best he could for them. 
 
 He was Colonel Hatton when he received the letter. 
 He placed it with his papers, intending to do what she 
 asked, and in the whirl of his busy life forgot all about it-
 
 BROKEN WEDDING-RING 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 No two girls ever had a stranger education and a more 
 unequal life than had Leah and Hettie Ray. Sometimes 
 they found themselves in the midst of comfort and luxury, 
 with apartments at the West-end and at the seaside, ponies 
 to ride, servants to wait upon them, the best of masters, 
 for " accomplishments," and of governesses for ordinary 
 teaching, the prettiest dresses, the daintiest food. Then 
 would come poverty, squalor, common lodging-houses, 
 common clothing, the want of even the necessaries of life. 
 There was one thing that amid all their ups and downs 
 was never forgotten study. No matter what happened, 
 they always preserved their books and never missed their 
 lessons. It was a strange life, most unsuited for young 
 girls ; but it was the only one they had ever known. Dur- 
 <ng their mother's lifetime they had been more settled, 
 they had lived longer in one place, they had been more 
 uniformly comfortable ; but now they never had a home 
 for more than three months together. 
 
 Martin Ray was very kind, loving, and indulgent to 
 *hem. He loved only three creatures during the whole 
 course of his life his wife and his children. He shared 
 all he had with them. When strikes were plentiful, and 
 the masses full of discontent ; when the " workman's 
 penny" rolled in ; when men invited him to come and 
 make their discontents greater and their miser)' more un- 
 endurable by depicting both in their blackest of colors' 
 then he lived in luxury, and his daughters shared it with 
 him. Those were the palmy days of West-end apartments 
 and first-class music-masters. Then "the Voice of the
 
 jg A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 People" lectured in good broadcloth, wearing a gold watch 
 and chain ; and the patient, oppressed, toiling multitude 
 gave their pence cheerfully, and never thought of the incon- 
 gruity. When riot and anarchy reigned, when sullen hate 
 grew into fierce vengeance, when man pursued master with 
 dogged desire for ruin then Martin Ray flourished, and 
 his beautiful little daughters wore fine clothes and ate 
 good food. But, when the loyal good sense of the people 
 prevailed, when submission to lawful authority reigned, 
 when the fire of discontent was extinguished then dole- 
 ful days set in for Martin. For, instead of paying the agi- 
 tators who avoided all danger while they led others into it, 
 the workmen kept their money. 
 
 Martin Ray was often at a loss to know where his din- 
 ner or his children's clothes were to come from. Yet, in 
 spite of all drawbacks, the girls grew up beautiful and in- 
 telligent. Wherever Martin Ray went he took them with 
 him ; and they learned much that was useful, with much 
 that was the reverse. They had no friends ; it was impos- 
 sible to form even acquaintances living as they did, alter- 
 nately in luxury and poverty, in great cities and remote 
 villages. The men with whom their father associated 
 were almost unknown to them, and never brought wife or 
 sister to see them. They were lonely and friendless. Then 
 came a time of great trouble of which they fortunately 
 knew but little. When Leah was eleven and Hettie ten, 
 Martin Ray, rendered desperate by what seemed to him 
 long-continued peace and order, made a speech which 
 brought him under the iron grip of the law. He was tried, 
 and sentenced to three years imprisonment ; and, in -~ u e 
 of all that friends could do, of petitions, and of an agiti. 
 tion which spread all over the country, the sentence was 
 carried out. 
 
 Martin Ray, who had not scru k led to use the most 
 offensive language with regard to his sovereign, who had
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. \f 
 
 not hesitated to incite the people to sedition and rebellion, 
 found his punishment in the ignominy and solitude of 
 prison. 
 
 An old patron took pity on his youthful children. Sit 
 John Falkner, a leading Radical, came to the rescue. He 
 sent the children to a boarding-school kept .by a poor rel- 
 ative of his own a Miss Fairfax who resided at Kew. 
 He forbade any mention of their father's imprisonment ; 
 and the children were told that he was away from home, ab- 
 sent on special business, and would not return for a fe\i 
 years. They believed it implicitly. They had some kind 
 of idea that their father was a great statesman, born to 
 set the wrongs of the world right. If they had been told 
 that he had gone to dethrone the Czar of all the Russias, 
 they would have believed it just as implicitly. 
 
 They spent three years with Miss Fairfax and very 
 happy years they were. 
 
 "Let them learn everything." Sir John had said. 
 " The chances are that Martin Ray will never be out of 
 mischief again, and they may have to work for their living. 
 Make them clever and accomplished women." 
 
 Sir John spared no expense, Miss Fairfax no pains ; 
 and the two sisters received an excellent education. 
 
 Martin Ray was released from prison when Leah was 
 in her fifteenth year and Hettie still almost a child of 
 fourteen. He was not grateful to Sir John. He had in- 
 tended to educate the girls after his own fashion. Leah, 
 who was gifted, clever, and brilliant, he ha*d meant to bring 
 out as a lecturer ; a beautiful young woman lecturing on 
 politics would be a novelty that would pay well. As for 
 Hettie, there was plenty of time to think over what should 
 be done with her. 
 
 Having plans of his own, he was hardly grateful to Sir 
 John for having sent them to a school where they had re- 
 ceived a solid, sensible education. He comforted himself
 
 jg A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 by the thought that it was not too late to undo the effects 
 of it ; he had time yet to form their minds as he would. 
 He came out of prison homeless, friendless, almost penni- 
 less, but the first thing he did was to take his daughters 
 from school. He had secured apartments for them and for 
 himself in Camden Town, and there he intended to devote 
 his time, first to making money, and then to the education 
 of his daughters. They never heard of or suspected the 
 secret of his imprisonment ; he would rather have died 
 than let them know it. He received their homage and wor- 
 ship much as he had received their mother's before them, 
 as a right, as incense they ought to burn before him. 
 When they talked, in their simple girlish fashion, of how 
 great a statesman he was, of what great things he would 
 do, he was flattered and pleased. 
 
 Many people looked coldly upon him now who had 
 once seen noble qualities in him. The imprisonment had 
 been against him. He was the more determined that his 
 daughters at least should retain their veneration for him. 
 People began to look upon him more as a popular agitator 
 than as a guide or a leader. He was soured, imbittered, 
 yet compelled by the force of the law to be more careful 
 and reticent. He dared not again advocate the murder ot 
 a king; and the fierce sentiments he had been wont to ex- 
 press openly now seethed and gathered in his heart. Sul- 
 len, bitter, vengeful rage had possession of him. How he 
 longed to crush all those above him, the queen in whose 
 name he had been arrested, the jury who had found 
 him guilty, the judge who had sentenced him, the gover- 
 nor and chaplain of the jail where he had been imprisoned, 
 every aristocrat who had read his trial and smiled at his 
 sentence ! How he hated them ! How he clothed in 
 words more fierce than fire his black, bitter thoughts, 
 though he did not dare utter them, lest the law should 
 seize him again and render him mute 1
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. t g 
 
 If he dared not speak in public, in private he atoned 
 for it. When the little group of men met in the dingy 
 parlor of the dingy house in Camden Town, what horrible 
 treason was spoken, what vile, murderous plans were sug' 
 gested ! The very fact that he could carry none of them 
 out imbittered Martin Ray the more. He went into prison 
 mistaken, yet earnest ; he came out more fiend than man. 
 Before that event there had been something human in his 
 breast ; nothing lived there now but a desire for revenge. 
 He looked at the beautiful face of Leah, his daughter. If 
 he could but educate her to his way of thinking, and send 
 her out into the world like a firebrand send her to preach 
 equality and fraternity men would listen to her, would 
 follow her in crowds ; she would soon make a name, have 
 an influence. He remembered how many women had 
 made themselves famous in the same fashion. He looked 
 with complacency at her beauty. If those dark eyes of 
 hers would flash fire, if that lovely mouth would give utter- 
 ance to his teachings, men would hang on her words and 
 believe them. His beautiful Leah should be a popular 
 lecturer not on women's rights, but on men's freedom. 
 He had the best masters in elocution for her, he spent 
 hours each day in teaching her. 
 
 The girl herself wondered at her own strange training. 
 There were times when she half feared, half suspected that 
 her father intended her for the stage, a profession for 
 which she had no inclination. Although she had the most 
 profound faith in him, it was strange that her taste, inter- 
 ests, inclinations, and ideas did not agree with his. The 
 blood of the loyal old race of Hatton ran in her veins. 
 She was a Hatton, without one of the characteristics which 
 distinguished the Rays. While Martin Ray made a hero 
 of Oliver Cromwell, and worshipped him as the saviour of 
 his country, Leah hated the name, and loved the memory 
 pf the handsome, graceful, graceless Stuarts ; while Mar
 
 to A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 tin saw nothing but heroism in the Paris mob who dragged 
 their beautiful queen to the scaffold, Leah loved and ad- 
 mired Marie Antoinette. So through all the pages of his- 
 tory ; and yet he thought to *nake her a denouncer of 
 royalty ! 
 
 Leah Ray was just sixteen, and beautiful as the open- 
 ing bud of a June rose ; grace, dignity, and passion were 
 marked in every line of her face. The brow was some- 
 what low and broad, full of ideality and thought ; the eyes 
 were dark, the eyebrows straight. It was a face perfect 
 in shape and harmony, with a proud but sensitive mouth 
 a face difficult to read. The lightness and brightness 
 of girlhood were not on it; it was slightly mystical and 
 dreamy, and the lustrous eyes had a shadow in them. 
 
 The noble head, the graceful figure and its movements, 
 the mass of dark waving hair, so fine and abundant, de- 
 delighted Martin Ray. The more beautiful she was, the 
 more sure was she to influence men. He never thought 
 whether she would be willing to devjte her young life to 
 the propagation of his ide 6, whether she would care to 
 give up all the allurements a .d pleasures of the world to 
 dedicate herself to the people. He had never thought 
 that she would refuse the mission he had appointed for 
 her. The man who preached liberty to the world never 
 dreamed of giving it to his own daughter ; he who openly 
 taught rebellion against all authority never imagined that 
 his daughter would disobey him.
 
 A SRQKEN 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MARTIN RAY was living in one of the crowded streets 
 of Manchester. The north was better suited to him than 
 the south, because the great centers of industry were there. 
 For some few months he had been unfortunate. Heaven 
 had blessed the bountiful land with a fair, warm summer; 
 the harvest was plentiful, the fruit ripened in rich abun- 
 dance ; there was a general air of prosperity ; no foreign 
 war caused anxiety and agitation at home ; orders from 
 abroad had come in freely, and people were busy at work. 
 There was no time for considering how the land and 
 money of the rich were to be divided ; men did not care 
 to be drawn from their work by agitation of any kind ; and 
 Martin Ray had had fewer lectures to give. The contribu- 
 tions from different committees came in slowly. He was 
 compelled to be content with writing pamphlets, which, 
 before they were published, underwent so much revision 
 as to make them pointless He was all the more eager 
 to bring Leah forward. 
 
 "The girl has genius> she has fire and power," he said 
 to himself. "My mantle must fall upon her. Men will listen 
 to words from that beautitul mouth that they will not hear 
 from mine." 
 
 He had trained her splendidly. She was well-read and 
 thoughtful. She was a girl of magnificent talent, full of 
 energy and the restless fire that proclaims genius. He 
 had never told her until now what his intentions were with 
 regard to her ; and on this day he had called her into the 
 miserable little room he dignified by the name of study, to 
 <*unmunicate his plans to her.
 
 22 A BROKEN WEDDfXG-RTNG. 
 
 " You have grown very beautiful, Leah," he said, look 
 ing at her quite calmly " very beautiful ; and it is time 
 you know for what purpose Heaven has sent you that 
 same beauty." 
 
 The girl smiled and blushed. She did not remember 
 that her father had ever used such words to her before. 
 
 Martin Ray went on, 
 
 " You have a grand mission in life, Leah. You must 
 not be as other girls ; you must not think that dress, 
 gayety, enjoyment, love, and marriage are the end and 
 aim of your existence. You have a far more important 
 future in store for you." 
 
 She looked up at him in wonder. 
 
 " I did not know that I had any mission, father." sha 
 said, quietly. " What is it ? " 
 
 " The greatest, Leah, that ever fell to a woman. ] 
 have been preaching and teaching all my life. I hav 
 given up everything in this world for the cause of the peo- 
 ple all my hopes, my ambition. I have served them, 
 lived for them, spent my life for them ; and now, even as 
 from the prophet of old, my mantle has fallen and it has 
 fallen upon you." 
 
 " I do not understand," she replied. " What am I to 
 do?" 
 
 " I will tell you," he said. " You must take my place. 
 I can preach and teach no longer ; you must do it for me. 
 You are young and beautiful ; you have great talent ; you 
 have a clear, vibrating, sweet voice that will make its way 
 to the very hearts of men ; you have the fire that belongs 
 to genius ; you have a brilliant imagination indeed, I 
 may say that you have every requirement ; and a lady 
 orator will be a novelty such as is not seen every day." 
 
 " What do you want me to be, father ? " she asked 
 slowly. 
 
 "A teacher of the people," he replied, grandiloquently.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 23 
 
 w How can I teach when I know nothing ? " she asked. 
 
 " You have plenty of knowledge, and when it fails I 
 will supply what you may need," he said. " I want you to 
 set forth my doctrines, Leah, to spread my teachings. I 
 want you to interpret my thoughts and ideas to the world. 
 They will live after me, and I shall be famous after I am 
 dead." 
 
 " But, father," she remarked, gtavely, " you have spent 
 your life, you say, in making known your belief ; and if 
 you, so wise, so learned, so good, so earnest, have not 
 succeeded, what can I do ? A girl, young, and untrained, 
 ignorant " 
 
 He interrupted her eagerly. 
 
 " I have succeeded in a measure," he said. " But one 
 life is not long enough for the work. You must carry it 
 on for me. The grace and beauty of the woman-teacher 
 will do more even than the fame and skill of the man. 
 Leah, try to appreciate, to understand, the grandeur of the 
 mission I give to you. If I had called you here this morn- 
 ing, and had told you that all the nations of the earth had 
 united in asking you to be their queen, you would be dazed 
 and bewildered with delight you would not know how to 
 wear such a crown. But the mission I have given you makes 
 you a greater and grander woman than the sovereignty 
 of the whole earth could." 
 
 " In what way ? " she asked. 
 
 " You have to teach the people the great masses who 
 are struggling on to freedom and liberty." 
 
 *' How shall I, a girl, teach the people ? " she asked, 
 gently, " I should think that white-haired men would hava 
 little patience with anything that I could say." 
 
 " If you have been taught what to say, they will be- 
 lieve it," said Martin Ray. " You will not appear before 
 them as a simple, ignorant, untrained girl in that case I 
 grant you would be little worthy of credence you will
 
 4 A BROKEN WEDDING-RTtfG. 
 
 come before the world as the one woman in it chosen by 
 Heaven to teach the people the blessings of equality and 
 liberty." 
 
 " But Heaven has not chosen me," she rejoined. 
 
 " It has through me ; and you must hear the voice of 
 Heaven through mine. You must stand before the world 
 a woman trained to teach, a woman whose beauty and 
 grace have been especially given to her to influence the 
 hearts of men ; a woman who deliberately gives her life 
 to the well-being of others a woman clad in ethereal 
 armor, delicate of tint, full of poetry and eloquence, the 
 embodiment of the Spirit of Liberty." 
 
 A light shone on the girl's face. 
 
 ** And do you think I could do all this, father ? " 
 
 '* Think ! I am sure of it ! Did not Joan of Arc, a 
 girl feeble and frail as you, lead vast bodies >JL troops on 
 to victory ? " 
 
 ** Heaven called her," said the girl, reverently. 
 
 " Heaven calls you," he declared solemnly. " A girl 
 saved the French crown ; a girl-queen saved Hungary from 
 destruction in the olden days ; Judith saved her country ; 
 Queen Esther her nation. It seems to me that from time 
 to time women are raised up to save a great people from 
 destruction. You, my daughter, are one of these." 
 
 She grew pale, and trembled under the weight of his 
 words. He took ker hands in his, and looked at them 
 lovingly. If he were a false pretender himself, he did not 
 mean her to be one, and he knew that nothing succeeds like 
 truth and earnestness. 
 
 " These are little hands," he said, " to hold the great, 
 beating, bleeding heart of the people little hands to plead 
 and implore, to raise and to beat down. But you must do 
 it, Leah. I see the grand spirit of noble women sweeping 
 over you. Be a modern Judith, and slay the monster 
 JRoyalty,"
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 2 j 
 
 She shrunk back, pale and trembling, at these words. 
 
 u I can slay nothing," she said. 
 
 But he did not seem to hear her. He was looking at 
 her, trying to weigh the effect of her graceful young loveli- 
 ness on the hearts of men. 
 
 " Leah," he said slowly, " you will do better than I 
 have done. You will make a fortune." 
 
 A flame, almost of fire, spread over her beautiful face. 
 
 " Make a what, father a fortune ? I thought you gave 
 up everything to the people you taught not took from 
 them." 
 
 " Certainly," he answered hastily. " But there must 
 be funds provided for the organization of such a grand 
 movement as ours. Nothing in this very prosaic world can 
 be done without money, Leah. One way of raising money 
 is by giving these lectures. They serve two purposes 
 they find the means to enable o to carry on the war, and 
 they teach the people." 
 
 The girl's face fell and the light died out of it. 
 
 " I would rather earn money in some other way," she 
 said. 
 
 He interrupted her eagerly, 
 
 ' " The earning of money is the least part of it, Leah ; 
 do you not see ? It is true we must have n.oney, but the 
 teaching of the people is the principal thing." 
 
 " Tell me what they want to be taught," she requested. 
 
 " To hate, first of all, all existing institutions. They 
 must be taught to hate imperialism, royalty, the aristocracy, 
 and the gentry. They must be taught to hate the Sovereign, 
 the Legislature government in every shape and form, ex- 
 cept such as may be in their own hands. They must be 
 taught that the goods of this fair world were never meant 
 to be in the hands of a few. They must be taught that it 
 is a monstrous injustice that one man should own fertile 
 lands, waving woods, broad, deep streams, mines of untold
 
 26 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 wealth underground, while another dies from want of 
 bread. They must be taught, Leah, that no man has a 
 right to make slaves to torture, to kill, to bind the necks 
 of thousands of his fellow men under an intolerable yoke. 
 The earth was made for man not for kings." 
 
 " But," she said, slowly, " men must be ruled, must be 
 governed. It seems to me a little matter whether they are 
 ruled by kings or by such as you. I know little, but I can* 
 not help thinking that if all these barriers and inequalities 
 were swept away by a mighty wave of revolution, the self- 
 same barriers would naturally arise again. All men cannot 
 be equal industry must outstrip idleness, genius must 
 succeed better than folly, wisdom reign over ignorance. 
 If you could make the minds, hearts, characters, and con- 
 sciences of men equal, then there might be some hope of 
 equality in circumstances." 
 
 He looked at her angrily. 
 
 " Do you know," he cried, " that those are the very 
 arguments of my enemies ? Who has taught them to 
 you ? " 
 
 " No one," she replied. " No one has ever spoken to 
 me of such things. I only say what I think." 
 
 " Then you must speak in that fashion no more, Leah. 
 You must strangle your own ideas. I tell you that they are 
 all wrong. You must apply yourself diligently to study 
 what I may call my side, the people's side, of the question. 
 A woman like you, young and beautiful, ought to sway the 
 masses; you must give your life to it, and discard all 
 wea kness, all-nonsense, about the other side." 
 
 She looked up at him thoughtfully. She had much to 
 say : she did not in her own simple, girlish mind agree 
 with one word of his agument. Why should she stand up 
 to tell the people not to love their queen ? Only last 
 week every bell in the city had chimed in honor of the 
 queen's birthday, and, listening to them, her eyes had.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ^ 
 
 grown dim with tears. Who could say one word against 
 the royal and noble lady whose crown was the purity of 
 her life ? How often had her own heart beaten when sha 
 heard the loyal voices of the multitude cry, " God save the 
 Queen ! " And she was to teach men to hate this noble 
 lady worthy of all love. 
 
 As she stood silent, Martin Ray watching every change 
 in her face, she recalled to mind what she had heard of 
 two lectures given lately. One was to a large audience in 
 a crowded city a lecture on Republicanism when the 
 lecturer spoke in such terms of the queen and the royal 
 family that honest men were angered. When he had con- 
 cluded in a fiery outburst of eloquence, amidst a breathless 
 silence one man stood up and cried out. " God save the 
 Queen ! " Instantly the cry was caught up by hundreds 
 of voices ; a reaction set in, where treason and disloyalty 
 had reigned triumphant, loyalty conquered. " God save 
 the Queen ! " resounded through the vast building and 
 through the streets of the great city. The other lecture that 
 crossed her mind was one given in a pretty quiet midland 
 town given by a lady who was an atheist, and whose 
 mission it was to preach against the Great Creator who 
 had given her life. She used the most brilliant and spe- 
 cious arguments ; she brought forward some ideas that 
 appeared irrefutable ; she concluded her lecture in a deep, 
 dread silence. The hearts of those who had listened were 
 heavy and sad. Suddenly in their midst rose up an old 
 white-haired man. He stood bare-headed, with his face 
 slightly raised. " I believe in God, the Mighty, the 
 Merciful," he said. And those who were present went home 
 that night with firmer faith and clearer hope. She thought 
 of these two events, and her face was full of doubt. 
 
 " I have no more time just now," said Martin Ray, 
 * There is a meeting of the delegates at three, and I must
 
 jg A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 be present. I will find leisure to teach you, Leah ; and 
 believe me, a grand mission lies before you." 
 
 But on the face of the girl there was no light of 
 enthusiasm nothing but the shadow of doubt and of 
 tear.
 
 99 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A GLOOMY house in a gloomy street, quite unfitted for 
 the habitation of two beautiful and brilliant girls. Every 
 one who knows Manchester knows Great Divan street. It 
 is thoroughly respectable, quiet, and dull. " The Voice of 
 the People " made his abode here, partly because the house 
 suited his means, and partly because it was near the chief 
 places where his business lay. The residence he had 
 chosen was certainly the dullest in the street. The rooms 
 were small and dark ; there was not even a glimpse of 
 green at the back ; and in the front was a row of houses 
 on which the sun seldom shone. Martin Ray did not 
 suffer much, as he was generally from home ; but to his 
 daughters it was untold misery. They knew and under- 
 stood little of their father's politics ; they thought he was 
 a great thinker of very unequal fortune. They had enjoyed 
 many of the luxuries of life now they had to bear 
 privations ; but that time would pass, and brighter days 
 dawn. There was little furniture in the house. Martin 
 Ray's study and bedroom were the two most luxurious 
 apartments. There was a piano in the little parlor 
 Martin never allowed his daughters to be without that 
 and here, at the close of a bright May day, the two girls 
 sat quite alone. 
 
 There was not much sunlight in the room, but what 
 little there was showed the faded carpet, the shabby fur- 
 niture, and the beautiful faces of the girls. Leah, whom 
 her father in his selfishness had designed for so grand a 
 mission, whose life was to be sacrificed to him, was just 
 sixteen; Hettie, one year younger. Yet there was the
 
 3 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 greatest difference between them. Leah was beautiful, 
 graceful in the very springtide of life, with the promise of 
 a magnificent womanhood. Hettie, though only one yeat 
 younger, seemed still a child. She was tall, slight, and un- 
 formed. Her face was beautiful, too, and gave promise of 
 even greater loveliness ; but, although like in feature, it 
 differed greatly in expression from that of Leah. Hettie had 
 hair of pale bright gold, that was like an aureole round her 
 head ; she had eyes blue as heaven, large, bright, and 
 lustrous, with hidden depths seen by no one yet. The 
 chief expression of Leah's face was of pride ; it did 
 not lack beauty, but it certainly lacked tenderness ; while 
 the chief loveliness of Hettie's face lay in its softness. 
 
 The one year made a wonderful difference between 
 these two girls. No one would have treated Leah as a 
 child or Hettie as a woman. The two sisters had the 
 deepest love for each other. They had preserved two 
 traditions in their lives untouched ; one was loving, sorrow- 
 ful memory of their mother the other, belief in their 
 father. Of late this latter trait was just a little less 
 observable. On one or two occasions their faith had been 
 somewhat tried ; but they had been loyal they had said 
 no word to each other. 
 
 On this May evening they had been trying to amuse 
 themselves. The house was dull, but they could not leave 
 it ; the lovely sunshine lay all around, but they could not 
 go out to see it. They had been singing, but their fresh 
 young voices had died away, and over them crept the weari- 
 ness of restless discontent. 
 
 " O, Leah, how dull this it ! " cried Hettie, at last. 
 M My father said yesterday that we ought to be proud to 
 be the daughters of a patriot. If all patriots' daughters 
 are dull as we are, I am sorry for them." 
 
 Leah went to her, and threw her arms round her sisters 
 neck ; she laid her dark head against the golden onf and
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RTNG. ^ 
 
 the two young faces close together formed a pretty picture : 
 
 " It is dull, Hettie," she said, " but I am not dull. I 
 am trembling with excitement. I could not decide whethei 
 I should tell you or not. They say are only a child, 
 Hettie, but in your sweet, gentle fashion, you are more 
 of a woman than I am." 
 
 Hettie laughed. 
 
 " Why do you say that, Leah ? " 
 
 " It is quite true. You are not so impulsive as I am, 
 Hettie ; you are not so proud. I am proud, and I lack that 
 gentle consideration for others which you never lose. You 
 are wiser and more thoughtful than I am." 
 
 " I am not so beautiful or so noble, Leah," she cried. 
 " What is it you have been thinking about telling me ? " 
 
 " All that my father said to me. I am so miserable 
 about it. Hettie, when I look into my own heart, I am not 
 quite sure if I believe all that he teaches ; " and the two 
 sisters exchanged a fearful, timid glance. It was high 
 treason, indeed, not to believe in him. 
 
 Hettie made no answer ; she did not know or under- 
 stand exactly what her father did teach. Leah went on, 
 
 " God made the world, and He must have framed the 
 laws for it. It seems hard to believe that it has gone 
 wrong all the time, until our father began to set it right." 
 
 " It does seem strange," agreed Hettie. 
 
 " And now," continued Leah, " he says that I must 
 learn to take his place. I am such a young girl, and I 
 know so little. He has frightened me. He wants me to be 
 a modern Judith, he says ; he wants me to stand apart from 
 the world of women. He wants to teach me to lecture 
 think of it, Hettie, to lecture. It seems to me that I know 
 less than the birds of the air. I wish," she added, with a 
 deep sigh, " that I had the freedom of a bird. I should 
 fly away, Hettie." 
 
 "Papa wants you to lecture, Leah," said Hettie 
 a
 
 2 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 "what a strange thing! But there are woman doctors 
 preachers, and lecturers these days." 
 
 " But I am only a girl of sixteen ! " exclaimed Leah. 
 
 " He will not want you to begin yet ; he means far on 
 in the future, when you grow old and wise Leah." 
 
 " No ; he means now, at once, in a year's time, while 
 I am young, and, Hettie, he says I must give my life to it 
 my whole life," and the beautiful face dropped wearily 
 on the loving one beneath. 
 
 The blue eyes opened widely, appalled at this idea. 
 
 " What would you like best to do with your life Leah ? " 
 asked Hettie. " Tell me ; I should like to know." 
 
 " I should like," said the girl, with a gleam of passion 
 in her dark eyes, " first of all, to love some one with all my 
 heart some one, of course, who would love me. I wish 
 for many things, but love is first, greatest, and best. Then 
 I should like to be rich to have a beautiful country-house, 
 with roses growing all around it ! I love roses so much. 
 I should like beautiful dresses, jewels, horses and ser- 
 vants " 
 
 "Just in fact, what other girls desire," interrupted 
 Hettie. " You are like all the rest ; you do not want a 
 mission." 
 
 "No, I do not, indeed. I think I should dislike 
 what my father calls a mission. I do not understand him ; 
 why do he and all his friends hate rich and noble peopta 
 so much ? " 
 
 * 4 Perhaps," replied Hettie, wisely, " because they have 
 neither rank nor money themselves ; " and then she looked 
 somewhat shocked at her own words and hastened to 
 cover them. *' Even, if we cannot understand what my 
 father teaches, we know it must be right, Leah. There 
 must be reasons, and good ones, too, for his hatred." 
 
 " But why should he want a republic instead of our 
 present constitution?" asked Lah. "Why should he
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 33 
 
 to take all the large estates from the men who own 
 them, and divide them among others ? Poor as our furni 
 ture is, would he like to divide that among men poorer 
 than himself ? I know he would not." 
 
 " He is a patriot, Leah," urged the younger sister, to 
 whom Leah's remarks sounded like treason. 
 
 " Yes, I know the dictionary says that a patriot is a 
 man who loves and serves his country. But one who loves 
 his country would surely never care to see it destroyed by 
 civil war ; and what but civil war would ensue if they tried 
 to put aside our present form of government and set up a 
 republic ? My instincts are all against it, Hettie." 
 
 " My father must know best," said the younger girl. 
 " Perhaps kings and queens and rich people do great 
 wrongs of which we know nothing ; and, if that be the case, 
 ray father is right to preach against them. He must be 
 right," she added, after musing for some short time, " he 
 is so wise and good." 
 
 Tears stood in Leah's dark eyes. 
 
 " I know what he wants, Hettie," she said ; " he wants a 
 daughter like one of those girls of whom you read in novels 
 ' an inspired sibyl.' Now I do not feel at all like a 
 sibyl. I cannot understand talking of people in the mass," 
 she continued ; " to me the people are all individuals, and 
 each one can best teach and train himself. My father 
 says that he has given his life to the people. Who are 
 they ? What have they done for him ? He says I must 
 give my life to them. What are they to me the people ? 
 Why should not I have my life to do as I like with, Hettie ? 
 What are the people to me ? " 
 
 " You would like to love some one very much," said 
 Hettie, " and to marry to be rich and fashionable would 
 you not, Leah ? " 
 
 The beautiful face brightened. 
 
 " Yes, that I should. That is a mission far more to
 
 34 
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 my taste than the one my father gives me. I wonder," she 
 continued thoughtfully, " if it is possible to be born with 
 what my father calls conservative instincts. If so, I have 
 them. All my ideas and instincts and feelings are opposed 
 to my father's. I have never said that much, before, Het- 
 tie, and I am half frightened at saying it now. If I am to 
 have a mission at all, or to learn to lecture, it will not be 
 as he says, but quite in another fashion. Supposing that I 
 were old enough and wise enough to teach others, I would 
 teach them, while they resented tyranny, to love peace, 
 order, content ; to learn obedience to proper authority, not 
 rebellion and discontent. What would my father say to 
 that, Hettie ? " 
 
 The blue eyes sought the dark ones. 
 
 " Why, Leah," cried the child, "how is it that life has 
 suddenly changed into a wonderful puzzle ? I never thought 
 of these things before." 
 
 " Nor did I," said Leah. " But it seems to me that 
 for the future I shall think of nothing else." 
 
 The sun set and the moon rose over two bewildered 
 beads that turned restlessly even in sleep.
 
 4 BROKEN WEDDING-RING* 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 EVEN when Leah Ray was not under the spell of her 
 father's teaching she had the same shrinking, the same 
 feeling of horror that a sensitive child has of the darkness. 
 Her father and his friends spoke of history ; they talked of 
 the rights of the people ; they approved of secret societies : 
 they saw nothing wrong in Fenianism, in Nihilism, or any 
 ojkher " ism " which displaced authority and gave power in- 
 to the hands of the mob. Martin Ray had spoken of his 
 plans to his confederates. They all agreed with him. 
 It was a novelty to have a beautiful young girl to lecture 
 tor them, one on whose lips the very honey of eloquence 
 lingered. She was brought into her father's study where 
 several of his most intimate friends assembled. It was a 
 trying ordeal for so young a girl ; one less sensible would 
 have been flattered into compliance with their wishes. 
 Leah shuddered with dread. They were grim-looking 
 men, with determined faces ; in many instances with them 
 "history " meant murder, and the " rights of the people " 
 assassination. She could not understand half that passed. 
 Her father's friends flattered her, and told her that she 
 would have greater and wider influence than a queen, and 
 that she would live in the hearts and memories of the peo- 
 ple forever. But she was frightened. She had heard 
 strange doctrines and strange words. 
 
 More than one man cried " Hush ! " when he saw the 
 girl's pale face ; but Martin Ray said f hat no one need 
 fear his daughter she was one of th~m, and would be 
 stanch until death. So they spoke freely before her, and 
 she, pale, proud, and reserved, wondered that they did not
 
 36 * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 see the difference between what she was and what they 
 wanted. 
 
 There was no nobility in their aims, no loftiness of 
 purpose. The girl's heart grew sick and faint as she lis- 
 tened, but her pale proud face gave no indication of her 
 thoughts. 
 
 " I may soon die," said Martin Ray, as he laid his 
 hand upon his daughter's beautiful head, " and I have spent 
 my life for the people ; but my spirit will live in this girl,. 
 who has received my doctrines from my own lips, and who 
 will add the splendor of her own genius to my experience. 
 I may live however, to see my daughter the people's idol 
 the people's queen." 
 
 They asked Leah to give them a specimen of her 
 powers. She turned to her father, with an appealing look 
 which he understood. It would have been easier for her 
 to die than to speak before those stern, cold men. 
 
 "Not yet," said Martin Ray, looking proudly at his 
 daughter. "Considering the magnitude of the interests 
 that will be committed to her charge, it is only right that 
 you should hear her before she makes her first appearance 
 in public. But she has much to learn before then. She is 
 not ready yet." 
 
 Leah Ray had plenty of spirit she inherited it from 
 the Hattons ; but with all her courage, she dared not tell 
 her father what was in her heart. She had been indiffer- 
 ent at first as to what she had to do ; now she hated and 
 loathed it. 
 
 When, after midnight, her father gave her permission 
 to leave the conclave, she went to Hettie to seek comfort 
 and consolation. 
 
 " I can never attempt it, my darling ! " she sobbed. 
 " O, Hettie ! what must I do ? I hate it all so. What 
 shall I do ? My father will be so angry when I tell him.* 
 
 Her sistex looked at her in helpless compassion.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 37 
 
 u It seems almost a pity that you are so beautiful and so 
 gifted, Leah," said Hettie. 
 
 Leah stood by the window, her face raised to the sky, 
 where the golden stars were shining. 
 
 " Do you remember Hettie," she said, " how the three 
 Hebrews prayed in the fiery furnace. I am in a furnace 
 of fire now. I stand between my own hatred of what my 
 father wants me to do and my father's anger if I do not do it. 
 Who will deliver me from it ? Who will take pity on me ? 
 I am so helpless. I have no friend. O, Hettie, Hettie ! 
 I feel I must pray to Heaven to save me from this furnace 
 of fire ! " 
 
 " My darling Leah, do not cry," returned Hettie. " If 
 you tell our father that you do not like the plans that he 
 has laid down for you, he will not force you to follow 
 them." 
 
 But Leah had had a revelation of her father's charao 
 acter that evening which had opened her eyes. She knew 
 that he would not spare her that he would force her to com- 
 ply with his wishes ; and, if she refused, she had a dim 
 idea that he would make her suffer. 
 
 " I wish mamma had lived, Hettie," she said; " she would 
 have taken care of us. She would never have allowed 
 father to force me to do anything against my will. We 
 should have been like other girls then, which we are not 
 now." 
 
 " Still, Leah, we are the daughters of a patriot," re- 
 marked loyal Hettie ; and Leah tunted av/ay with a hope- 
 less sickness at her heart. 
 
 No sleep came to her that night. She hated the men 
 whom she had seen, and who persisted in flattering and 
 praising her. She detested their opinions and political feel- 
 ings ; she loathed the idea of having to meet them again 
 aod again. If some one would but rescue her ! If some-
 
 38 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 thing would only happen to save her from the terrible fu- 
 ture that her father had mapped ou: for her ! " 
 
 She looked the next morning from the window of her 
 bedroom. There were people hurrying to and fro ; the tall 
 chimneys were smoking, showing that work was going on ; 
 there was the distant murmur and roar of the city ; she saw 
 men and women with eager faces, who were evidently bent 
 on business. " The people ! " And what had she to do 
 with them ? She did not even belong to them. What had 
 she in common with those tired-looking, dirty, poorly-dressed 
 men and women who crowded the streets ? Nothing. Why 
 then give her life to them or for them ? She must tell her 
 father that all his plans for her were more than vain. He 
 would be at home in the afternoon ; Hettie would be present, 
 and then she could speak to him plainly on the subject. 
 
 The afternoon was close, heavy, and dull. Out of 
 doors the atmosphere was oppressive in the house there 
 was warmth without brightness ; and Leah Ray, with a 
 dull pain at her heart, stood awaiting her father's return 
 waiting to tell him that she never could and never would 
 become what he wished her to be. 
 
 " He will be terribly angry," she said to Hettie ; " but 
 I had better die at once than live on in agony, as I should 
 do, Hettie, were I to accede to his plans. While I talk to 
 him, pray that I may be delivered from this furnace of 
 fire." 
 
 It was late when Martin Ray returned. He was not in 
 the most amiable of moods ; something had gone wrong 
 among the delegates, and he was ruffled and angered. 
 
 " Give me my dinner," he said, brusquely ; and the two 
 girls hastened to serve him. " Mind," he added, half 
 fiercely, to his eldest daughter " mind that you study well 
 to-day. I must give you a lesson this evening ; last night 
 you did not seem so willing as I should like to have seen
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ^ 
 
 you. Understand that there is to be no shirking; you 
 must do what I wish." 
 
 " Leah," said Hettie, trembling, " do not speak to him 
 to-night he is angry, you see ; wait until to-morrow." 
 
 " No; I could not rest another hour," her sister replied. 
 
 She might not be a modern Judith, but she was resolute, 
 firm and determined. 
 
 " The Voice of the People " had dined well ; he had 
 taken up the only consolation that never failed him his 
 newspaper ; and Leah, looking paler and more determined 
 than she had ever looked before, went up to him. 
 
 At that very moment a carriage rolled up the street and 
 stopped at their door ; then came a loud peal at the bell, 
 which the little drudge of the house, with a very black face 
 and hands, hastened to answer. They heard a loud, per- 
 emptory voice asking if Martin Ray was at home, and the 
 girl's answer, " Yes." 
 
 " Give him this," said the same voice, " and tell him 
 that I am waiting waiting, you understand." 
 
 " Who can this be ? " observed Martin with a wonder- 
 ing look at his daughters. The little maid solved the mys- 
 tery by appearing with a card. 
 
 " He says he's waiting," she half whispered, with a nod 
 of her head towards the door. 
 
 Martin Ray took up the card and read : " General Sir 
 Arthur Hatton, K. C. B." 
 
 " Sir Arthur Hatton ? " he murmured. " I know no 
 such name. Hatton ? " Then memory suddenly awaken- 
 ed. Was not Doris Hatton the name of the only woman 
 he had ever loved, and who had died because he was not 
 what she believed him to be ? Sir Arthur Hatton ? It must 
 be some relative of hers, and of the proud father who had 
 died without forgiving his only daughter for marrying him. 
 Then he remembered that his wife had spoken more than 
 once of a soldier-brother away in India. " Ask the gentle-
 
 40 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 man to walk in," he said to the servant ; and the next min- 
 ute General 3ir Arthur Hatton was ushered in. 
 
 At sight of the two beautiful faces he uncovered his 
 head and bowed low. 
 
 ** Are you Martin Ray, Je jagogue and agitator ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " I am Martin Ray," replied the master of the house. 
 
 " I am General Hatton, the brother of the unfortunate 
 Jady whom you stole from her home." 
 
 " What is your business with me ? " asked Martin Ray. 
 
 " I want the satisfaction, first of all, of speaking my 
 mind to you ; and, secondly, I wish to know what has be- 
 come of my sister's children." 
 
 Hatred flamed in both faces as the two men looked at 
 each other ; hatred flashed from their eyes. 
 
 " I have not asked you to my house," said Martin Ray; 
 "nor do I wish to see you here, State your business 
 quickly, and begone,"
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 TT was an impressive scene. The fine, tall figure of 
 the officer was drawn to its full height, his face was ex- 
 pressive of intense scorn. Martin Ray seemed to shrink 
 into insignificance before him, and yet he faced him with 
 a desperate kind of courage. The two girls had drawn 
 close together, as though seeking protection from each 
 other. The wan sunlight lay in yellow bars along the 
 floor. 
 
 "I have not come hither," said General Hatton, "to 
 bandy words with you to seek a quarrel with you. You are 
 one with whom no gentleman could quarrel. I have a mes- 
 sage from the dead, and I wish to deliver it. Show me my 
 sister's children." 
 
 " They are here," said Martin Ray, not without a cer- 
 tain amount of dignity "the good children of a good 
 mother." 
 
 General Hatton waved his hand with a gesture of scorn. 
 No word about his dead sister could he tolerate from the 
 lips of the man whom he thought utterly vile and base. 
 
 He went to the girls, who stood, with fear on their faces, 
 hand in hand. The composed, well-bred manner, the low 
 bow, and the courteous bearing were something novel to 
 them. He looked into each sweet shrinking face. 
 
 " My sister's children," he said, " have you any word of 
 welcome for me ? I bring a message from your mother." 
 
 Leah freed her hand from her sister's clasp and held 
 it out to him. He drew her to him and kissed the pale 
 young face. She found that he was trembling with agita- 
 tion and emotion. Then he took Hettie in his arms and 
 kissed her also.
 
 4 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " I was quite a young man," he said. " when l left 
 home, and your mother was much younger than I. She 
 was my beloved sister, playmate, and treasure. It was a 
 great grief to me to be obliged to part from her when I went 
 abroad. I remember her face, and in yours I see some 
 trace of it. What word of welcome have you for me ? " 
 
 Impulsive Leah threw her arms around him and raised 
 her face to his. 
 
 "Welcome home, uncle," she said. 
 
 " What is your name, dear child ? " he asked. 
 
 " Leah," she replied. 
 
 " Leah ! It is a beautiful, sorrowful name. Why did 
 your mother give it to you ? Did she foresee a shadow in 
 your life ? You look like Leah ; no other name would 
 suit you. And your age ? " 
 
 ** I shall soon be seventeen," she replied with uncon- 
 scious pride in her voice. 
 
 "And you?" he continued, turning to the younger 
 sister. 
 
 " I am Hettie," she said, " and I am nearly sixteen." 
 
 " Heaven bless you, my dear ! You have a sweet face of 
 your own. Your mother bade me here is the letter you 
 can read it she bade me, when I returned home, seek you, 
 find you, and save you." 
 
 " Save us ! " crid Leah. " From what ? " 
 
 " She must have known what she was writing," replied 
 the general. " She was sweet-tempered, and never com- 
 plained, but she died young, and of no complaint to which 
 men could give a name. She was not happy, and she 
 asked me to save you." 
 
 Martin Ray stepped forward. 
 
 " I will not allow you to speak in that fashion," he said. 
 " Their mother loved me, and they love me ; you will never 
 get my children against me " 
 
 o wish to do so," said the general coldly.
 
 BROKEN- WEDDING-RItfG. 
 
 43 
 
 * Knowing your true character, as I suspect my sister knew 
 it before her death, I can imagine you to be quite unfit to 
 have the charge of young girls ; therefore I bring their 
 mother's message to them, and they can make their choice. 
 
 " Why am I unfit ? " cried Martin Ray, his face white 
 with rage " in what way ? " 
 
 " I judge you from your public character. You are 
 without honor, honesty, and loyalty. You are the very 
 ringleader of sedition ; treason is a natural atmosphere to 
 you. You live on the hard earnings of the people whom you 
 mislead. You spread disaffection, rebellion, ruin, misery, 
 and death wherever you go." 
 
 A low cry came from Leah's lips. It seemed to ner 
 that ihese words of her uncle's gave life to a horrible spec- 
 tre that had always haunted her. 
 
 " If," continued the soldier, " you were honest, I should 
 have some respect for you. But you are an impostor. 
 You, and such as you, live on the hard-earned pence of the 
 men you deceive. If you gave to the people, instead of 
 taking from them, one might have some little faith in 
 you." 
 
 " I have given my life to the cause I have at heart," re. 
 joined Martin Ray. 
 
 "The cause of anarchy and rebellion the cause of rev- 
 olution, which you would spread like a firebrand all over 
 the land. How many men's lives have you to answer for, 
 Martin Ray ? You have kept yourself safe ; but how many 
 men have you slain by your teaching ? You have found 
 men vain and weak, ready to listen to anything which ap- 
 peared to lighten their burdens ; and what have you 
 taught ? Did you ever teach a man to be patient, to rest 
 content with the condition in which Heaven had placed 
 him, to work soberly, honestly, and justly ? No. You 
 taught him to long for his neighbor's property, to rebel 
 against rightful authority, to look with envious eyes on all
 
 44 
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 Jhose above him, to brood in sullen anger until murder ran 
 riot in his heart. Those are your doctrines." 
 
 " Whatever they are, I believe in them," said Martin 
 Ray. 
 
 " Many young men owe their ruin and death to you," 
 continued the general. " You have urged them to rebel ; 
 you have seen them suffer loss, seen them condemned to 
 prison, to exile ; yet you have never paused, nor taken pity, 
 nor spared." 
 
 " I have done my duty," declared Martin Ray. 
 
 " You are not a fit person to have charge of girls like 
 these. You would sell them heart and soul to further your 
 cause," and Leah shrunk at the words, a sudden pain 
 piercing her heart. " You value their youth, their fresh, 
 sweet grace and beauty, only so far as they will help you 
 and lure men to your belief whom you cannot teach your- 
 self. I declare to Heaven," he continued, passionately, 
 " that I am relieved and grateful to find them as they are ! 
 I should not have been surprised had I discovered that 
 you had, even young as they are, tried to make platform 
 orators of them." 
 
 The random shot went home to the very heart of Mar- 
 tin Ray, and blanched Leah's face with a great fear. 
 This was indeed the furnace of f "" from which she had 
 longed to be free. 
 
 " My children are my own," said Martin " to do as I 
 will with." 
 
 " They are not all your own," rejoined General Hatton. 
 u A dead hand is stretched out from their mother's grave 
 to save them. They belong to her, dead though she may 
 be, as much as they belong to you. They have no business 
 with you ; you are no fitting guardian for them. Those 
 two girls have good blood in their veins. Their ancestors 
 were loyal ; they gave their lives for the safety and well- 
 being ot the throne that you are trying to overthrow ; the/
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 45 
 
 lived and died in the service of the royal race that you 
 would destroy." His anger seemed to increase as he went 
 on. " I," he continued, " make no boast. I have served 
 my country and my queen as an honest soldier and a loyal 
 man. What could I have but loathing and contempt for 
 one who is the greatest traitor and the worst foe to the 
 royal house that I serve ? Light and darkness, day and 
 night should meet and embrace, rather than that I should 
 tolerate you." 
 
 " I do not want your toleration," said Martin Ray ; " in- 
 deed, I have not desired the honor of this visit at all." 
 
 " I should not have paid it, but that my sister asked me 
 to save her children. She was dying when she wrote the 
 words, and she knew best from what I had to save them." 
 
 " There is one thing you must allow me to say ; you 
 have not been in any great hurry to fulfil your sister's 
 wishes. She has oeen dead some years ; it must therefore 
 be rather late to save my children, as you choose to ex- 
 press it." 
 
 A deep flush covered the soldier's face. 
 
 " It is true," he said, " that I have been neglectful in 
 this matter ; I reproach myself bitterly for it. When that 
 letter came, I ought to have started for England at once ; 
 but I did not, and other interests drove the subject from 
 my mind. I will make all the amends I can. Armed 
 with my sister's authority, I am here by her wish to save 
 her children from the fate that living with you, an agitator 
 and impostor, must of necessity bring upon them." 
 
 "My children are my own," repeated Martin Ray 
 with difficulty repressing his passion, " and I shall keep 
 them.'* 
 
 ' "You are unfitted for the charge. Heavens knows 
 how they have fared hitherto ; but you could never teach 
 them to be honorable, industrious or honest. You are a 
 disloyal subject you have spent some of the best years of
 
 4 6 A BROKEN WEDDING-RlNG^ 
 
 your life in prison ; what can you have to do with the train 
 ing of innocent young girls ? " 
 A cry from Leah interrupted him. 
 " Is it true, father ? " she said. " Have you been m 
 prison ? " while Hettie went up to him silently, and placed 
 her hand in his. 
 
 In the midst of his shame and exposure one at least of 
 Martin's daughters was faithful to him. 
 
 *' Is it true ? " repeated Leah, in a voice of anguish 
 that smote both men with regret. 
 
 " I was a political prisoner, Leah," he replied ; " and 
 that is a very different matter from being a common felon. 
 Kings have been political prisoners before now. I am not 
 ashamed of it " yet his eyes drooped before the wistful 
 imploring gaze of his best-loved child. " I am not ashamed 
 of it, Leah," he repeated. 
 
 " How is it that we did not know ? " she asked. " Why 
 did you never tell us ? " 
 
 " There was no need to throw the shadow of a prison 
 across the brightness of your lives," he replied ; and he 
 noticed he could not help it that, while one daughter 
 drew closer to him and kissed his hand, the other seemed 
 to shrink further from him. The fatal word " prison " had 
 shocked and terrified her. 
 
 " I am sorry I said that," interposed the general, hastily. 
 " I did not know that your imprisonment had been kept 
 secret from your children, or I would not have mentioned 
 it. Your conduct was commendable, Martin Ray. I would 
 withdraw my words if I could. I never anticipated that I 
 should have to express regret to you ; but as there is every 
 ground for it, I do so now willingly." 
 
 '* I care little for it," said Martin Ray ; but he winced 
 as he saw the strange, wistful pain on Leah's face. ** They 
 were kept in ignorance at the time, but in a few years t 
 they had become old enough to know and understand
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 47 
 
 wrtiat political persecution means, I should, perhaps, have 
 toia them." 
 
 " I can only repeat that I am sorry; I had not meant 
 to betray any secret," said the general, stiffly. " Let me 
 say what I have to say. Children, listen to me, and, as 
 you listen, make your choice. Remember this, that I come 
 to you as a messenger from the dead." 
 
 Looking into the brave, kindly face, Leah wondered to 
 herself if the answer to her many prayers was come if he 
 had been sent to save her from a life she had dreaded. 
 
 " 1 come," said the general, proudly, " to make a pro- 
 position ; how it will be received I know not. I make it 
 in my dead sister's name. I abhor and detest the prin- 
 ciples and teachings of Martin Ray ; I hold them in such 
 supreme contempt that I can never after this day have any 
 communication whatever with him. I would rather cut off 
 my right hand than let it touch his. But his children are 
 the children of my dead sister, and I am here to make 
 them an offer. I am a rich man ; I have been married, 
 and my wife, in dying, left me a large fortune ; besides 
 which, all that I have undertaken has prospered. I have 
 no children, no relatives save my two nieces, and conse- 
 quently no one to succeed to my wealth. I shall never 
 marry again; and I propose, in accordance with my 
 sister's wishes, to adopt Leah and Hettie, and treat them 
 as daughters of my own. I will educate them, find a proper 
 chaperone for them, introduce them to their pro persphere t 
 and I will divide my money equally between them." 
 
 There was dead silence in the room. Martin Ray 
 grew pale. The girls looked startled and surprised. The 
 silence was painful until the general broke it himself. 
 
 " I need hardly say what a different life this will be for 
 them. With large fortunes, and the name of Hatton, they 
 may aspire to any position, they may marry as they will. 
 They will be equal to any ladies in the land. A brilliant
 
 48 A BROKEN WEDDING-KING. 
 
 future lies before them wealth, gayety, pleasure, all that 
 is most bright and beautiful. But I will do this only on 
 one condition ; and it is to this condition that I beg you to 
 give your best attention. I can hold no communication 
 with Martin Ray. A soldier of the queen and a preacher 
 of sedition cannot join hands. If I adopt these children 
 and make them my own, they must give up for ever all 
 communication with the man who is their father ; they 
 must give up his name and take mine ; they must cease to 
 hold any intercourse with him, unless he is ill or dying. I 
 can accept no half measures it must be all or nothing." 
 
 " It is inhuman," cried Martin Ray. 
 
 " It is natural," said the general. " Loyalty and treason 
 can never go hand in hand. Give my sister's children to 
 me, and I will make them my own; but I will never share 
 the charge of them with you." 
 
 There was silence again, during which one could hear 
 the labored breathing of Martin Ray. 
 
 *' That is like an aristocrat," he said. " Remorselessly 
 3'ou ride roughshod over the feelings of those whom you 
 choose to consider as beneath you. Why should you seek 
 to take my children from me ? Why should you offer to 
 bribe them with money and pleasure ? Do you call that 
 honorable ? An aristocrat's notion of honor the bribing 
 of children to leave their father! Their mother, sweet 
 soul, loved me until she died ; they will do the same. 
 Offer what you will, my children will not desert me. I 
 dare you I defy you ! Double the gold that you offer and 
 a name twice as noble as the one you bear will not take 
 them from me." 
 
 "They shall speak for themselves," returned the 
 general. " It is a decision for life, not for a short time 
 only. The fairest way is to leave it to them to make their 
 choice." 
 
 " I am not afraid," said Martin Ray ; but hj wondered
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 49 
 
 At the strange look on Leah's face. *'I appeal to my 
 children ; they have loved, obeyed, honored me ; will they 
 forsake me now for a stranger who confesses that he de- 
 tests me ? " 
 
 " I make no appeal," put in the general ; " I leave it to 
 them. If they will come to me, they shall be as children 
 of my own ; but they must give up all claim to you. I own 
 that it is a momentous choice, and one most difficult to 
 make." 
 
 Again the painful silence fell over them, unbroken this 
 time by any sound. Thr girls stood with while faces, look- 
 ing from one man to the other. 
 
 " My children," said Martin Ray, " I leave it to you.'' 
 
 He turned away his head, too proud at that moment to 
 let the expression of his face be seen. 
 
 " And I," said General Hatton, looking at each of his 
 nieces, " leave it to you also. My dead sister's children, 
 do as you will ; but do not forget your mother's words." 
 
 With a cry, the girls clasped their arms around each 
 other. In that moment they felt quite alone in the world. 
 How were they to make such a choice ? To Leah's mind 
 recurred the memory of her fervent prayers for some one 
 who would deliver her from her " furnace of fire." She 
 looked into the blue eyes of her sister. 
 
 It is what I prayed for," she whispered. 
 
 Inen slowly, as the waters of a great sea divide, the 
 two girls separated, sadly, mournfully, looking back with 
 lingering regret, yet never faltering; and Leah, the child 
 whom Martin Ray had loved, of whom he had been so un- 
 utterably proud, whom he had hoped to see his political 
 successor, beautiful dark-eyed Leah, went to her uncle and 
 aid her hand upon his. 
 
 u I prayed to Heaven for deliverance,*' she said, " and 
 you have brought it. I accept your offer."
 
 5 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 With a bitter cry, Martin Ray turned to her. There 
 was dignity in the sorrow of his voice and face. 
 
 " You make your choice deliberately and wilfully, 
 Leah ? " 
 
 " I make it of my own free will, father. I would have 
 chosen death rather than the life you mapped out for me." 
 
 Loving arms were placed around his neck ; a loving, 
 beautiful face was laid against his. 
 
 " I will never leave you, father," said Hettie. " I will 
 give my life to you." 
 
 So for some minutes they stood the general with 
 his arm thrown round Leah, as though from that moment 
 he would shield her from all harm, and from every one ; 
 He.ttie clasping her father's neck, her face wet with tears. 
 
 "I accept yoar offer, uncle," said Leah, in a calm, 
 clear voice ; " and I shall always believe that Heaven sent 
 you to me." 
 
 " I will never leave you, father ! " cried Hettie. " My 
 love shall make up to you for the loss of Leah's ! " 
 
 " I do net say that I shall cease to love my father you 
 have no right to imply such a thing, Hettie but I cannot 
 refuse to take advantage of my uncle's kindness ! " 
 
 " I will never leave you, father darling ! " cried the 
 younger girl. " The more they say against you, the more I 
 will love you. I do not believe any of the accusations 
 against you, and I love you with all my heart." It was 
 beautiful to see the light in her face, the love in her eyes, 
 the childish passion of wounded pride with which she clung 
 to him, the tenderness with which the little white hand 
 stroked and caressed him. " I would not leave you, dear," 
 she repeated, " if he would make me queen of the whole 
 world. I believe all that you believe. I will never be 
 false to you. Nothing shall ever take me from you." 
 
 He was a politician he had never considered himself 
 A religious man indeed his ideas on religion were worse
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. g t 
 
 and lower than his ideas on politics ; yet he bowed his 
 face on the golden head for some few minutes, and words 
 not often on his lips came from them. Then he turned to 
 the other two. 
 
 " You hear," he said ; " there is one faithful to me. 
 You may take the other. I I give her to you ! " 
 
 " I could never lead the life you want me to lead, 
 father never," remarked Leah ; " and how would you 
 have borne with me had I refused ? Do not think that my 
 heart is not rent." 
 
 " You need say no more ! " cried Martin Ray. " Have 
 we not heard how sharper than a serpent's tooth Ii is to 
 have a thankless child ? I have no son, and I rested my 
 pride, my hopes, my ambition on you ; and you have heart- 
 lessly deserted me for a stranger who despises me." 
 
 " I cannot believe as you believe, father, or think as 
 you think. We must have parted sooner or later ; I could 
 not have borne my lot, now that I am beginning to under- 
 stand you." 
 
 Hettie's arms clasped him even more tightly, 
 
 " Never mind, father. I will make it all up to you. I 
 will die to save you from pain. She will tire soon, and 
 come back to you." 
 
 " Never ! " he cried, his face aflame with anger. " Stand 
 away from me, Hettie ! Let me see the child so ready to 
 leave me and give up the love of years at the bidding of a 
 stranger ! " 
 
 Hettie drew back, and at that moment she knew in her 
 heart that his best and dearest love had been given to the 
 daughter who had deserted him. 
 
 " Let me look at her ! " he cried. " She has deserted 
 me and gone over to my enemies ! " 
 
 " \ have simply given up a life which has never been 
 tolerable to me, and which grows more unbearable every
 
 5 2 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 day. I shall love you always, father ; but I shall nevei 
 share your principles." 
 
 His face paled with anger. 
 
 " You speak bravely enough now that you know your 
 words give me no concern. I am justly punished, for in 
 my blindness I confess that I loved you best. You must 
 forgive me, Hettie. I shall love but one daughter now.'' 
 
 " I have nothing to forgive ; it was natural that you 
 should love Leah best. Do not be "ngry with her. She 
 told me she did not care about the life you wanted her to 
 lead. Leah loves everything beautiful, and she wants to 
 be loved. She does not care for lectures and politics." 
 
 The simple words almost made the general smile ; but 
 there was no smile on the lips of Martin Ray, as he turned 
 to his elder child. 
 
 " Look at me," he said, " and tell me to my face that 
 you are going to leave me." 
 
 " It is the life I leave, not you," she replied. 
 
 " Listen to me, Leah. If you leave me now, you shall 
 never, so help me Heaven, look upon my face again ! You 
 shall go from my house, my heart, my life, never to re-enter 
 them. You shall cease even to be known by my name ; 
 " and your sister shall never see or speak to you again. Do 
 you understand all that you are giving up ? " 
 
 She was pale as a white lily. 
 
 "I can bear my coming life better than the other, 
 father, I could never follow the career that you have 
 traced for me. It is better that I should go." 
 
 " Oh, Leah, you must not leave him ! You cannot 
 desert me ! I shpll die if you go from me and leave me 
 here alone ! " 
 
 " Come with me, Hettie ; if it is no life for me, it is none 
 for you. Come with me." 
 
 "Noj I will never leave my father unless 1 die I 11
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 53 
 
 gobbed the girl. *' How can you act so, Leah ? Your 
 own father ! " 
 
 "You forget," interrupted Leah, "that it is mother 
 who has sent for me." 
 
 " Her heart is hardened ! " cried Martin Ray. " Say 
 no more to her, Hettie. She can leave us both without 
 tears. We must learn to live without her. She is a thank- 
 less child, and you are a loving one. Come to my heart, 
 Hettie ; your home shall be there." 
 
 But as her golden head lay upon his breast, amid her 
 sobs and tears, she heard the name of Leah as often as 
 she heard her own. 
 
 " There is no need to prolong this painful scene," said 
 General Hatton, after a short silence. " My dear Leah, 
 for the trust and confidence you have shown me I thank 
 you. You shall see that it is well placed. I take you 
 from what I believe to be most unworthy hands, and adopt 
 you as my own daughter. I would take your sister, but she 
 declines to come. If in the future she should change he; 
 mind, I shall none the less be still her friend." 
 
 " I thank you," seicl a gentle voice, full of tears ; " but 
 I shall never leave my father. It does not matter who he 
 is, or what any one thinks of him, he is my father, and I 
 will be faithful to him." 
 
 " I say nothing but this," replied the general ; " If ever 
 you want a friend come to me." 
 
 " She will never want one while I live ! " cried Martin 
 Ray. " Oh, Leah, child of my heart, how little did I dream 
 that you would become one of those against whom I have 
 preached and taught my life long ! That I should have a 
 daughter among the wealthy and the aristocracy of the 
 land is to me a shame and disgrace. There is yet time to 
 make your final decision, Leah. I will believe that you 
 were over-tempted by the man who has bribed you ; I will 
 believe that you repent of your momentary desertion \ 1
 
 S4 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 will believe anything and everything if you will only coma 
 back to me, Leah, child of my heart ! " 
 
 General Hatton stood by and said nothing. He would 
 not influence the girl ; her heart should decide. He could 
 not help thinking what a beautiful picture of pathetic deter- 
 mination she made, standing with her eyes wistfully seek- 
 ing her father's face, her hands Clasped. 
 
 " I could never be what you want me to be, father," 
 she said ; " and you would dislike me, hate me, when I 
 refused. It is better that ]< should accept my uncle's 
 offer." 
 
 " You refuse then, decidedly, once and forever, Leah, 
 to carry out my wishes ? " 
 
 " I do refuse," she replied, calmly. " I could not act 
 as you wish. I do not believe in that which you would 
 have me teach." 
 
 " Say no more," he cried, holding up his hand as though 
 he would ward off a blow " no more ! I have heard from 
 your own lips your decision. You choose to make your 
 home with this stranger for stranger he is, no matter how 
 closely he may be related to you you would rather live 
 with him than with me ? " 
 
 " It is not my fault," she said humbly. " You would 
 have made my life intolerable to me." 
 
 " You renounce me give me up entirely for him ? " 
 continued Martin. " You cast me out of your life, and 
 choose to cling to him ? Do not be afraid to speak put 
 plainly." 
 
 " I am not afraid," she replied, calmly. " I do prefer 
 to go to my mother's brother." 
 
 " Well and good," said Martin Ray, with a white face 
 " well and good. You have made your choice ; you must 
 abide by it. Nothing can ever alter it in this world. 
 Some fathers would have cursed you. I will not ; but I 
 tell you, as much in sorrow as in anger, that punishment
 
 A BROKEN WEDDIXG-RING. 55 
 
 will fall upon you. I may not have been perhaps the best 
 of fathers, but I am your father, and to give up my love 
 and protection for that of another is, I say, a sin that cries 
 to Heaven for vengeance. You hear me, Leah ? I say it 
 to warn you. The time will come when, with unutterable 
 regret, you will remember this hour and this deed. The 
 time will come when the anger of Heaven will fall upon 
 you when, in your turn, your heart will be tern with 
 anguish, and you will say to yourself : ' This is the punish- 
 ment that my father prophesied for me.' I do not curse 
 you, Leah ; I leave you to the Power that never fails to 
 punish or reward." 
 
 " Do not be so angry with her, father," said a loving 
 voice ; and again Hettie's arms clung to him tenderly. 
 
 The general, seeing that Leah had hardly strength to 
 st-md, drew her nearer to him. 
 
 *' There is one thing I must do before you go," said 
 Martin Ray. " I will not say that I have studied my Bible 
 much ; but I have made a family register of it." 
 
 He unclasped Hettie's arms, and placed her in a chair, 
 then he went to the bookshelf, took from it a large Bible, 
 opened it, and laid it upon the table before the general. 
 There was about his action that dignity that comes from 
 great sorrow. 
 
 " Look ! " he said, pointing with his finger. " There 
 is the entry of my marriage with Doris Hatton. Here is 
 the birth of my first and best-beloved child Leah, more 
 than sixteen years ago. Here is the birth of Hettie, fifteen 
 years ago. Now see. My eldest child is dead to me ; she 
 died to-day. I have but one daughter living." 
 
 He took a pen and dipped it in ink, and through the 
 name of Leah Ray he drew a thick black line with steady 
 fingers. He wrote opposite to it, " Dead to me." Then 
 he closed the book, and replaced it on the shelf. 
 
 " There is no more to be either said or done," he cor*
 
 i;6 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 firmed. "You have taken my child from me, General 
 Hatton. She goes readily let her go. I do not mean to 
 complain ; but, when she passes over the threshold of the 
 house, she passes over my heart." 
 
 General Hatton bent down, and looked into the beauti- 
 ful face so white and still. 
 
 " Leah," he said, gently, " I would not over-persuade 
 you and the choice is for life. Will you take time to 
 think over it ? " 
 
 " No," she answered, faintly. " I could not live the 
 life that is proposed for me. I hate it. I prayed to 
 Heaven to send me deliverance. I cannot refuse it now 
 that it has come." 
 
 "You need not do so," said the general. " I wish your 
 sister would come too." 
 
 But Hettie clung to her father. 
 
 After a few moments Martin raised his hands. 
 
 " I am no prophet," he said ; " but I believe in the nat- 
 ural order and the natural fitness of things. I predict that 
 over the head of the child who has forsaken me dark clouds 
 will gather ; I predict for her a sad life in the midst of 
 wealth, luxury, and gayety. For the daughter whose 
 faithful heart and tender love are my consolation I pre- 
 dict happiness in life and in death. May Heaven confirm 
 what I say ! " 
 
 " We will have a proper understanding," said Sir Arthur 
 Hatton. " I am not unreasonable, though I frankly con- 
 fess I dislike everything about you your name, your char- 
 acter, your life, and its aims. I am implacable in my re- 
 sentment against you for having stolen my sister and 
 blighted her life, and I will never willingly hold any com- 
 munication with you never. You and I will be strangers ; 
 your children will be strangers, if one goes with me and 
 one remains with you strangers always. I shall require 
 that they neither write nor speak to each other, except it
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 57 
 
 fs a case of life and death. But, if you are ill or dying f 
 and send for Leah, she shall come. If Hettie be dying, 
 or ill, and send for her, she shall come." 
 
 " Neither in life nor in death shall we meet again," de- 
 clared Martin Ray. *' We shall live our lives ; they will 
 be far apart from hers. To me she no longer exists. I 
 have touched her hand, kissed her face, spoken to her for 
 the last time. She lies in her coffin now to me, and I draw 
 the sheet over her face she is deadl Oh, Hettie, with 
 your mother's eyes, comfort me ! " 
 
 Leah raised her white face to Sir Arthur's. 
 
 " This is dreadful," she said ; " it is killing me. But 1 
 cannot follow out my father's wishes. Take me away." 
 
 Then the two sisters looked at each other. In each face 
 was an unspoken longing. 
 
 " No," said Martha Ray, ste illy, "you shall not touch 
 her, Hettie ! She has cast us off; let her go her own 
 way." 
 
 " Just once," pleaded Hettie. " Let me kiss her once, 
 father. We are own sisters, you know ; we have loved 
 each other so dearly. Oh, Leah, stay with us, darling ; do 
 not go ! " 
 
 " No, not once or ever ! " cried Martin Ray, raising his 
 hand. " You shall not kiss her ! You shall not even say 
 good-by to her ! Let her leave us in silence the silence 
 of death." 
 
 And Hettie, whose loving heart was almost broken, fell 
 upon her knees, hiding her face in her hands, and sobbing 
 with bitter tears and cries. She dared not raise her head 
 to take a last look at the face she loved so well. 
 
 The general drew Leah near to the door. 
 
 " Good-by, father," she said. " I am not cold, unlov- 
 ing, or heartless ; but I couldsnot lead the life you selected 
 for me. I would rather have died. X will come back tf 
 you want me or send for me."
 
 58 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 She moved towards him, as though she would fain have 
 kissed his hands or his face ; bnt he turned from her with 
 a gesture of angry contempt. 
 
 "Good-by, Hettie," she said, in a broken voice. 
 " Nothing can part us for long ; nothing can change our 
 affection for each other; time, patience, and love will 
 bring us together again. If you want me, send, and I will 
 come." 
 
 It was a pitiful scene one girl kneeling in wild distress 
 on the ground, the other pale, trembling, half hesitating, 
 moving slowly to the door. 
 
 Suddenly Leah threw up her arms ivith a bitter cry. 
 
 " It is worse than death 1 " she said. " O uncle 1 help 
 me!" 
 
 " I will do all I can to make you happy, Leah," he re- 
 plied. 
 
 He did not know how to comfort her. It was he who, 
 in seeking to rescue her from a life she hated, had brought 
 these troubles upon her. Nature was more kind ; for, 
 when Sir Arthur beckoned his man-servant to help him, 
 Leah had lost all consciousness, and so left her father's 
 house, almost, as he had said in the stillness o death.
 
 4 BRQK&N 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 " SHE is gone," said Martin Ray, hoarsely, as the soucd 
 of the carriage-wheels reached them. " She is gone, Het- 
 tie, from our home and life forever. She is dead to us." 
 
 And the man whose ends and aims in life were all sel- 
 fish, who would have trampled over hundreds of human 
 beings to attain the object he sought, buried his face in 
 his hands, and sobbed aloud. 
 
 The sobs aroused Hettie, who in her whole life never 
 remembered to have seen her father weep startled her 
 into forgetting her own grief, for a time, to console him. 
 
 She went to him, and knelt down by his side. 
 
 " I will love you doubly, dearest," she said, " to make 
 *\p for it. I will be two daughters in one to you." 
 
 He stood up, gray, worn, and haggard, a prematurely 
 
 old man. 
 
 " You are the best of daughters,Hettie," he said, slowly ; 
 " but she well, you see, she was more than a daughter to 
 me. I wanted to live again in her. You are all that is 
 sweet, kind, and gentle ; but she had fire and passion, she 
 had power and eloquence, she would have been a light in 
 the darkness. I shall never be the same man again, 
 Hettie. I did not know that I could be so human. I did 
 not know that I was capable of valuing so highly the love 
 of a slip of a girl. I think better of myself for my own 
 grief, Hettie." 
 
 She whispered to him, after the manner of loving 
 daughters, that he was perfect, that no man could be 
 better ; and unconsciously the gentle flattery soothed him. 
 
 " How strange," said Hettie, " for all this to occur in
 
 o * BROKEN WEDDING~RtIfO. 
 
 one day ! This morning how little we knew of what was 
 about to happen ! This morning I hardly remembered 
 that mamma had a brother. She talked to us about him 
 sometimes, but I had nearly forgotten him. Now " 
 
 " Ah, now," sighed Martin Ray, spreading out his hands 
 in speechless distress " now all is changed ! " 
 
 Hettie looked up at him with wistful eyes. 
 
 " Father," she asked, gently, " was my mother really an 
 aristocrat ? " 
 
 " Good Heaven, no, Hettie ! Certainly not. She was 
 a lady; she came from a very ancient and honorable 
 family." 
 
 " That is something to be proud of, is it not ? " she 
 asked, innocently. 
 
 And Martin Ray glared at her with angry eyes. He 
 could not say " No," and he would not say " Yes." It 
 seemed to him that these children of his, so long docile 
 and blind in their belief, were suddenly rising up against 
 him. 
 
 " Why do you hate my mother's brother, father ? Why 
 could you not be friends with him ? " she persisted. " It 
 would have been so pleasant to have an uncle. Why could 
 you not be friends ? " 
 
 " Why were not Napoleon and Wellington friends ? " he 
 asked pompously. " Why are the hare and the hounds, 
 the dove and the hawk, not friends ? We are enemies 
 naturally, as are they." 
 
 " It seems so strange," said the girl, who was still a 
 child. " How angry his face was, and how stern his voice ! 
 He thought you had been cruel to my mother. Why did 
 you not tell him it was not so ? " 
 
 Martin Ray paced up and down the little room ; the 
 sickly yellow light from the setting sun still lay upon the 
 floor the door through which his daughter had passed out 
 for evermore was still open. Hot anger was rising in lib
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 6 1 
 
 fteart. Up to the present he had been mastered and dis- 
 tressed by surprise and pain ; now the wonder was past, 
 the pain deepened, and he grew wrathful. What right had 
 this man, his dead wife's brother, to come and take his 
 child from him ? If it had been Hettie, it would have 
 been more bearable for he was by no means averse to 
 money but Leah, bright, beautiful, proud Leah, who was to 
 have crowned the name of Ray with fame it was worse 
 than parting with his life's blood to lose her. Angry passion 
 surged in his heart against the man who had taken her. 
 He could not endure the simple, innocent prattle of the 
 child who had been faithful to him. He turned to her 
 with a darkening face that almost frightened her. 
 
 "Hettie," he said, "you are too young to know all that 
 a vow imports ; but you understand its solemnity ? " 
 
 With beautiful wondering eyes she answered " Yes." 
 
 "You must register a vow to me," he said. " I will not 
 hear that man's name again. I forbid you to mention it. 
 Swear to me that neither his name nor that of the girl he 
 has taken with him shall ever pass your lips. Swear it, 
 Kettie." 
 
 Pale and trembling, the girl looked at him. 
 " I am afraid," she said. " I have never sworn in all 
 my life. Let me promise that I will do as you wish, father ; 
 that will meet the case as well. I shall keep my word." 
 
 " No, you must swear it, Hettie. For the rest of my 
 life I shall trust no one neither man, woman, nor child ; 
 every promise made to me shall be bound by an oath. 
 You need not tremble, child ; many persons take oaths." 
 
 " But if I break it." 
 
 "That is the very thing," he said. "You hesitate, 
 Hettie, not because you are afraid of an oath, but because 
 in your heart you intend to keep up a correspondence with 
 "*-* u , 3' you do so, you will never more be child of mine. 
 it ever J find that by word or deed you have in any way
 
 6a A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 sought her or held any communication with her, that mo- 
 ment we part, and the curse of an unhappy, disappointed 
 father will rest upon you until you die." 
 
 " Oh, not that ! Do not say that ! " cried Hettie. 
 
 *' Then swear what I wish you to swear,and bear in mind 
 always the punishment that will follow if you do not keep 
 your oath. Swear to me that the names of the two in 
 question shall never pass your lips, and that, in no circum- 
 stances will you ever hold any communication with either 
 by word, deed, sign, or letter." 
 
 She was a timid, frightened, loving child, and she swore 
 as he bade her ; then he was content. 
 
 " I am going out, Hettie." he said. " While I am away 
 see that everything belonging to my dead daughter 
 is sent from the house. You can give them away, burn, or 
 destroy them ; but they must not be here when I return. 
 After that, our new life will begin." 
 
 He went away, and Hettie was left to her sorrowful task 
 to look at the bookshelves and take from them every 
 book bearing the beloved name, to go to the room where 
 only on the previous night they had talked, and wondered, 
 and slept, and remove from it everything that belonged to 
 Leah to take from the drawers all her neat pretty 
 dresses, to collect all her laces and ribbons, every little or- 
 nament, and pack them together. What tears she shed ! 
 What anguish of heart, what sorrow, what unutterable pain 
 she felt ! She cried until she became ill and faint. 
 
 At last her task was accomplished, and she had every- 
 thing securely packed in one large trunk ; then came the 
 difficulty what was she to do with it ? She remembered 
 that not far away a girl lived who had been an invalid for 
 many years, and who would doubtless be delighted with 
 the contents. To her Hettie sent the trunk, saying that 
 her sister had departed from home, and had left these things 
 to be given away. And, thus, when Martin Ray returned,
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 63 
 
 and looked inquiringly at Hettie, asking if his commands 
 had been obeyed, she was able to answer " Yes." 
 
 Then they began the new life ; but oh, the blank, awful 
 horror of it the gloom, the chill that came over them ! 
 Martin Ray sat moodily smoking his pipe, while Hettie 
 tried to interest herself in her domestic duties. There was 
 no Leah. Ten times an hour Martin Ray turned to look 
 for the beautiful face he had loved so well ; then, with a 
 muttered oath, he told himself that she was dead. Twenty 
 times in an hour Hettie turned with an involuntary cry for 
 Leah, forgetting for one happy moment what had hap- 
 pened, and then she would recall it with something like 
 despair. 
 
 It was a chill, terrible blank, of which neither spoke, al- 
 though their hearts were filled with the sense of it. The 
 tea-table, with two solitary cups ; the piano, where the 
 beautiful, passionate face would be seen no more every- 
 thing spoke of her. Then at night came the friends and 
 comrades of Martin Ray, eager to see and hear more of 
 the beautiful girl introduced to them on the preceding 
 evening as one of the brightest coming lights. Few words 
 were spoken between them ; but they all understood in 
 what manner Martin Ray had lost his daughter. There 
 was little outward display of sympathy among these men ; 
 but in each heart hatred of " the aristocrats " burned on 
 that evening hotter than ever. 
 
 Martin Ray had learned his lesson. He would not have 
 Hettie present at these meetings, as Leah had been. He 
 told her to take her book and go to her room, and ihe poor 
 child obeyed. There and then, for the first time, she 
 seemed to realize what had befallen her. The room fright- 
 ened her by its dreary, cheerless aspect; she had not 
 known before how much of its cheerfulness and brightness 
 was owing to Leah. With passionate love and bitter tears 
 she kissed the pillow on which Leah's bead had rested.
 
 64. A BROKEK WEDDftfG-RING. 
 
 She could understand how Leah was willing to leave fw 
 father, but not how she could leave her. 
 
 " I could not have left Leah," she said to herself. " If 
 the choice had lain between death and leaving Leah, I 
 would have died." 
 
 She wondered how she should live through all her life 
 without her sister. She grew ill and faint when she thought 
 of the oath she had taken. Even if she met her the 
 next day, she could not Spsk of her ; she had gone out of 
 her life forever ; and, as she thought of this, no foreshad- 
 owing came to her of the time when she and her sister 
 would cross each other's path in the strangest of fashions. 
 No sleep came to the unhappy child that night. If for a 
 few moments she forgot herself she woke with a cry for 
 Leah on her lips. 
 
 Martin Ray did not remain long in that house. He said 
 nothing, but the chill and desolation of the rooms once 
 brightened by his daughter's beautiful presence were too 
 much for him ; he could not endure the place. She had 
 gone from his life altogether, but he found to his surprise 
 that he could not root her from his heart and tnoughts, as 
 he had intended to do. Just then his career was almost 
 ended in Manchester. He had lectured and taught ; he 
 had been the cause of several disturbances, he had longed 
 that the Government would prosecute him and make a 
 martyr of him, but the Government had declined so to dig- 
 nify him. There was really a reason why he should seek 
 " fresh fields and pastures new." 
 
 Hettie would of course go with him. When he spoke to 
 her, he found that the idea of leaving Manchester was 
 most pleasant to her. She did not think that anything io 
 life could ever make her happy again, but it would be, at 
 least, some little relief to be away from the place that was 
 haunted by the memory of the sister she would in all prob- 
 ability never see again.
 
 THE BROKEN WEDDING RING. 6$ 
 
 So Martin Ray left Manchester. He lived successively 
 in Liverpool, in Sheffield, and in many of the large towns 
 which are centres of manufacturing industry. There his 
 fortunes wavered ; sometimes he was called Martin Ray 
 the patriot, and at others he was sneered at as an agitator. 
 So the years passed, and he saw the beautiful face of his 
 child no more. And the sisters who had lived together, 
 who had loved each other so well, who had never been 
 parted for an hour, drifted further from each other every 
 day, never to meet until the lines of their lives had crossed 
 again, and the real tragedy oi their womanhood ha4 
 begun
 
 66 THE BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 VERY few soldiers attain military honors so early as Gen- , 
 eral Sir Arthur Hatton, K.C.B. One thing was certain, he ' 
 was born a military genius, as some men are born poets and 
 others painters. He had been a soldier in heart from his 
 earliest childhood from the day he first saw a Line regi- 
 ment pass through the streets and heard the band playing 
 " Rule, Britannia," the sound of which raised a flame in 
 his heart that was never extinguished. 
 
 " I shall be a soldier, father ! " he cried out to Amos 
 Hatton. 
 
 "You shall if you wish it," replied the old lawyer. And 
 from that day the lad's vocation was considered a settled 
 thing. 
 
 It was his sole delight. He went through the prelimi- 
 naries with honor ; he studied hard ; it was prophesied of 
 him, by those in authority, that he would prove to be a 
 genius, an honor to the service ; and the country, they told 
 him, wanted such men. 
 
 He was little more than a boy when he obtained a com* 
 mission in the army, and the young ensign started with 
 every prospect in life bright before him. 
 
 Fortune smiled upon him. Before he had been very 
 long in the service, his regiment, the Queen's Own Ran- 
 gers, was ordered to the Punjaub. He was appointed to 
 some small military command, one that required tact, 
 courage, and skill. In a few years he had made his name 
 famous. When the Queen's Own Rangers went home, he 
 remained, and a post of greater importance was given to 
 him. After a time he distinguished himself still further, 
 aod the Government vi aot slow to reward his services.
 
 THE BROKEN WEDDTNG-RING. 67 
 
 He was made a general after a brilliant action in which 
 he had shown great personal valor and had saved the 
 troops from a crushing disaster. There was not a man 
 on the field who would not have risked his life for the 
 brave commander who was no carpet knight ; for he did 
 not show others the way to victory, yet shirk all danger 
 himself. His bronzed handsome face and tall figure were 
 always seen in front, always in the midst of peril, always 
 meeting death face to face. He was the type of officer 
 whom men follow blindly even to certain destruction. 
 
 By his courage and gallantry he rendered a great service 
 to the Viceroy of India, and in return he received the 
 Order of the Star of India. The motto of the Order was 
 one engraven on his heart " Heaven's light our guide." 
 Slowly but surely he mounted the ladder which leads to 
 fame. He was made a baronet, and soon afterwards the 
 Order of the Bath was given to him. He was a thorough 
 soldier ; he lived for his profession alone. 
 
 He had found time, in the midst of all his occupations, 
 to marry though General Sir Arthur Hatton never made 
 much pretense of having married for love a rich widow, 
 Lady Bourgoyne, whose husband had been one of the 
 wealthiest men in India, and had left the whole of his for- 
 tune to her. The fair widow herself had given the first 
 sign of preference for Sir Arthur. She admired the gallant 
 soldier, with his bronzed, handsome face and fine figure. 
 She gave him to understand, in a royal kind of fashion, 
 that she liked him. 
 
 Hitherto Sir Arthur had not given a thought to love or 
 marriage. He looked upon matrimony as something not 
 quite fitted for a soldier. He wondered a little when he 
 heard of officers and privates marrying. He wondered yet 
 a little more when he thought of all that the wives and 
 mothers had to snffer. 
 
 He was amused, lather than otherwise, when Lady BOUF
 
 68 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 goyne commenced to woo him. When she first began to 
 distinguish him by her attentions, he was timid and half 
 shy, wholly amused, and quite ignorant of what to do or 
 say. Lady Bourgoyne managed it all for him. Consider- 
 ing that she was at that time one of the most popular and 
 wealthy women in the whole presidency, her admiration 
 and evident liking for the general created no small sensa- 
 tion. She married him at last; for, oddly enough, in 
 speaking of the wedding, no one ever remarked that the 
 general had married Lady Bourgoyne. 
 
 They lived together happily for many years. Lady 
 Hatton was one of the best and most submissive of wives. 
 She simply adored her husband, and lived for his happi- 
 ness. He seemed to be always more or less surprised at 
 himself for having married. When Lady Hatton died, she 
 left the whole of her enormous fortune to him. Sir Arthur 
 missed his wife ; he mourned for her with all sincerity ; 
 and he lived on without knowing that his heart was still 
 sleeping, and had never awakened to the least knowledge 
 of true love. 
 
 Bftfore his marriage he had received the letter written 
 by his sister, and it had touched him deeeply. He had 
 loved little Doiis very dearly. She was but a child when, 
 he had left home, yet he retained the liveliest and most lov- 
 ing memory of her. He said to himself, when he read the 
 letter, that he would most certainly attend to her wishes. 
 But it was a difficult thing to do. He was thousands o 
 miles from home, and his time was incessantly occupied. 
 He delayed from day to day, not quite knowing what to 
 do, until at last the letter was put away with other papers 
 and forgotten. Then came the busiest part of his life . 
 he married, lost his wife, doubled his fortune, and resolved 
 upon returning to England. He resigned his command, 
 gathered together his wealth, and, to the great regret of 
 all who knew him, sailed for his native land. He had
 
 ft BROKEN- WEDDING-RING* 69 
 
 spent the best part of his life in India, he had accumulated 
 much treasure, and he determined that he would spend 
 the few last years of his life in ease and enjoyment. 
 Under the heat of the tropical sun, and amid the discom 
 forts of a tropical clime, this had been his one idea, the 
 one dream in which he had revelled to return home, and 
 in the heart of his native land, fairer to him than any 
 other on which the sun shone, make for himself a perfect 
 home. 
 
 Everything succeeded as he wished. The princely 
 mansion and estate of Brentwood were in the market, and 
 the general's solicitors declared that he could not do better 
 than purchase them. He did so ; the grand old house, 
 with its magnificent grounds, its woods, and streams, became 
 his, and he was proud of it. Brentwood stands in the 
 beautifully-wooded and picturesque county of Warwick- 
 shire ; the lovely Avon runs near it, great hills crowned 
 with trees stretch out on either side. Brentwood Hall and 
 Brentwood Park have been famous in picture and song for 
 many generations. The general was pleased with his new 
 Jesignation " Sir Arthur Hatton of Brentwood." 
 
 Many people wondered if he would marry again ; but 
 the general had no such intention. He knew nothing of 
 house-furnishing or decoration ; but he gave carte-blanche 
 to Messrs. Carson and Son, the famous upholsterers, the 
 result of which was that he had one of the most magnifi- 
 cently furnished houses in England. He had a correspond- 
 ingly heavy bill to pay. He looked at it, sighed, won- 
 dered what his wife would have thought of it, drew a check 
 for it, and forgot it. When the Hall was ready for occu- 
 pation, he took up his residence there. All his papers 
 were sent to him, and, looking over them one day, for the 
 purpose of arranging them, he found his dead sister's 
 letter that had been bidden away for so long. He re-read
 
 fO A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 it with a smothered cry of self-reproach. He had for- 
 gotten it all these years. 
 
 He determined to make amends at once. He loathed 
 the name of Martin Ray. Amos Hatton had not spared 
 his daughter's husband, and the strength of his hatred had 
 been imparted to his son. Sir Arthur Hatton had the 
 utmost contempt for one whom in his own mind he always 
 called " the demagogue ; " but he felt inclined to love and 
 adopt his sister's children. 
 
 It was by no means a difficult matter to find out Martin 
 Ray's address. The general had been struck at once with 
 the proud, delicate beauty of Leah, and the promise of 
 fair loveliness in Hettie. It was not strange, he reflected ; 
 for his sister had been beautiful. He saw at once that 
 there was something wrong between Martin Ray and his 
 eldest child. Her words puzzled him. " I have been 
 praying," she said, "for some one to deliver me from this 
 furnace of fire, and Heaven has sent you." His heart 
 went out to the beautiful trembling girl who had come to 
 him, and chosen life with him. She should be to him 
 so he swore as his own daughter, his heiress, the great 
 comfort of his life. He loved her, and was grateful to her. 
 Yet he admired Hettie ; the memory of her, as she stood 
 with her arms clasped around her father's neck, herexquisite 
 tenderness, her calm decision, were never forgotten by him. 
 Both girls had noble natures ; of that he felt sure. But, 
 as he drove away from the house with his beautiful niece 
 in his care, he asked himself which had the nobler nature 
 of the two Leah, whose whole soul had rebelled against 
 the teaching, belief, the life of her father, who loathed the 
 task he had wished her to perform, who had been thankful 
 to escape, even at the risk of never seeing father or sister 
 again ; or Hettie, whose loyal, tender heart had clung 
 more closely to the father whom Leah abandoned. 
 
 Which was the nobler of the two he could not decider
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 7, 
 
 He admired the beautiful, proud girl who would sooner 
 sacrifice the loves of her life than become what her father 
 wished to make her ; he admired her rebellion against 
 what she believed to be mean, false, and unholy. He ad- 
 mired the faithful love with which the younger girl clung 
 to her father. He could not tell which he thought the 
 nobler, which he admired the more ? but one thing was 
 certain he loved Leah best. Leah had chosen him and 
 the life he was ready to offer her; Hettie had refused 
 both, therefore he would always love Leah best. Still his 
 heart yearned over the girl who had her mother's blue 
 eyes. 
 
 " I must be content," he said to himself. " After all 
 it is fair. I have one child, he has the other. Even Doris 
 herself would scarcely have cared to see him deprived of 
 both."
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING* 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 GENERAL SIR ARTHUR HATTON and his niece were soot 
 settled in their new and magnificent home. To Leah it 
 seemed as though she must be in the whirl of a dream. 
 Her own story was to her very much like one of the fairy 
 tales that had delighted her when she was a child. " I am 
 a real Cinderella," she said to herself, with a smile. But in 
 no way did she resemble that humble little maiden. She 
 was proud by instinct and by nature. She was proud of 
 her mother's name of Hatton, of the good old family from 
 which her mother came, of the blood that ran in her veins 
 from her mother's side. She was proud of being true to 
 herself, of being loyal to what she believed to be right 
 principles. 
 
 The compact made between her uncle and herself had 
 not been broken. The name of Ray had been given up 
 and she had adopted that of Hatton. 
 
 " We will have no false pretenses," the general had 
 said. " You are my a'dopted daughter and heiress, but 
 every one must know that you are my niece. I am in the 
 place of your father ; but while one lives who claims the 
 title I should not like to usurp it. You are my niece, Leah 
 Hatton ; and, as we are discussing the subject for the last 
 time, let me say that, should you ever wish to marry, I will 
 myself tell to your future husband what I think he ought 
 to know of your history. You must not do it yourself." 
 
 After that, not another word was spoken between them 
 on the subject. 
 
 People were not curious. It was sufficient to know 
 that Leah Hatton was the abopted daughter and heiress 
 of General Sir Arthur Hatton, K. C. B., one of the wealthiest 
 and most famous men in England,
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 73 
 
 Leah was troubled at first when she saw the magnifi- 
 cence of the home that was to be hers. She imparted her 
 fears frankly enough to the general, but he smiled at 
 them. 
 
 " My dear Leah/" he said, " no woman can be more 
 than a lady can be more than refined, well-bred, graceful 
 and accomplished. You are all those. You will soon be 
 accustomed to the new life ; you will adapt yourself to it 
 naturally. If there is any little deficiency in your knowl- 
 edge of society matters, you will meet it by studying atteiz- 
 lively the habits and manners of those about you." 
 
 From the first moment she entered his house she was, 
 he told her, entirely mistress of it there was no appeal 
 against her authority. Most girls of her age would have 
 been too young for such a position ; but Leah was older 
 than her years. It was a marvellous change for her, from 
 the small, gloomy house in a dull street to that grand old 
 mansion, where everything bespoke the pride of wealth 
 and luxury. Some young heads would have been turned 
 by it. Hers was not. She fell into the position so natur- 
 ally that no one would have dreamed that she had ever 
 held any other. Miss Hatton of Brentwood was quite a 
 different girl from Leah Ray. 
 
 Sir Arthur had behaved in the most munificent man- 
 ner. He had taken Leah first to London. It was a 
 novelty for him to have the charge of a young and beauti- 
 ful girl. 
 
 " You must have everything perfect, my dear niece," 
 he said, " before you go to Brentwood. The eyes of ser- 
 vants are so quick to notice deficiencies. We must have 
 a wardrobe, a case of jewels, and a lady's-maid before we 
 go home." 
 
 Leah purchased just what she would, and Sir Arthur 
 presented her with a superb suite of rubies. 
 
 "I have whole boxes of precious stones at Brentwood,*
 
 74 * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 he said ; " and you must choose from them, Leah. Most 
 of them were spoils, I believe, once in possession of Sir 
 George Bourgoyne. My wife left them all to me." 
 
 " That has a magnificent sound, uncle," she returned 
 " ' whole boxes of precious stones.' " 
 
 " My dear," he said, simply, " it is true. I could not 
 enumerate the treasures that my wife possessed. I do not 
 care about them myself. I dislike the sacking of cities, 
 but Sir George did not. My wife had shawls worth any 
 money, jewels of every kind, the finest satins, the rarest 
 lace. She had embroidery and silk, ornaments of gold 
 and of ivory, embroideries of silver and of gold. I have 
 never known what to do with them, but now I give them 
 all to you." 
 
 " To me " she exclaimed " all those treasures to me ! 
 Uncle, you must think over it; perhaps you may want 
 them some day. You might marry again." 
 
 "Never," replied the general, calmly. "I have the 
 greatest respect and veneration for all women ; but I shall 
 never marry again." He was about to add that he had 
 not intended to marry at all, but he stopped himself. 
 " They are all yours," he repeated. " They have not been 
 unpacked even yet ; but when we reach Brentwood, they 
 shall be put in your possession. India was a land of treas- 
 ure, Leah." 
 
 " My life grows more like a fairy-tale every day," she 
 said to herself ; and from the depths of her heart came a 
 great sigh that she could not share her treasures with 
 Hettie. 
 
 Sir Arthur soon provided his beautiful young niece 
 with a magnificent wardrobe ; no marriage trousseau pre- 
 pared for a princess could have been more elaborate, more 
 costly. A clever, bright Parisian maid was also found ; 
 and Sir Arthur purchased for Leah one of the handsomest
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 75 
 
 hacks in London, engaging at the same time a staid and 
 dapper groom. 
 
 When all was ready and provided, they went down 
 together to take possession of Brentwood. It was a bright 
 beautiful day, and the park looked lovely ; the grand olcj 
 hall, in the dazzling sunlight, was strikingly picturesque. 
 
 " Is this Brentwood, uncle ? " asked Leah, her fact 
 growing pale with emotion as she gazed upon it. 
 
 " Yes, my dear ; and it is a fitting home for the Hatton* 
 It is mine now ; it will be yours when I die." 
 
 " Mine ! " she exclaimed ; and a solemn sense of heavy 
 responsibility came over her. 
 
 " Yes, yours, Leah ; I have no relatives but you." 
 
 " It must, be a fairy-tale," she said to herself ; but her 
 heart beat fast when her uncle led her into the magnificent 
 abode that was to be her own in the years to come. 
 
 Though so grand and stately, there was something 
 home-like about Brentwood. The rooms were all light 
 and lofty, full of sunshine, and from most of them there was 
 an uninterrupted view of the green undulating park ; the 
 corridors were long and spacious. In the whole mansion 
 there was not one gloomy spot ; the windows were large, 
 the perfumed breeze from the gardens seemed to sweep 
 through the place. It was very ancient rich in grand 
 oak carvings, priceless oak-panelled walls with evevy kind 
 of pretty nook and corner. Just where one least expected 
 it was some bright little room, some flowery corner, some 
 deep bay-window overlooking beautiful scenery, some 
 pretty quiet nook seemingly made for tete-a-tetes. There 
 were a large picture-gallery and a fine ballroom 
 
 " We shall be happy here, Leah," said the general ; 
 " we have everything to make us so." 
 
 And she smiled in the fulness of content. But whe*i 
 she had taken possession of the suite of rooms prepared 
 for her, when the magnificent dresses had been put away
 
 7 6 A BROKEN WEDDTXG.RTKG. 
 
 In the wardrobes made of cedar-wood, when the superb 
 store of Indian treasures had all been examined, when she 
 had grown accustomed to the luxury cf a lady's maid and 
 a groom, of horses and carriages, her heart turned with a 
 great and wistful yearning to Hettie. She had loved her; 
 and that love, checked by the rebellion against her fate, 
 returned with double force now that her fear and dread 
 were gone. To her proud, sensitive mind, it appeared a 
 species cf cowardice to leave her sister to a fate she could 
 not bear herself. Yet Hettie had elected to be so left ; 
 she would not come away with her. Her remembrance of 
 that loving sister was the only drawback to her perfect 
 happiness. 
 
 She was alone in the cozy morning-room one morning 
 when Sir Arthur came to seek her, his face full of delight. 
 
 " Leah," he cried, " can you guess what strange, good 
 fortune has happened to me ? " 
 
 She looked up at him with the brightest of smiles. 
 
 " How can I guess, uncle, when you have already all 
 the good fortune in the world ? " 
 
 "I have my share of it, Leah'; that 'is quite certain. 
 But this piece of good luck is something quite unlocked 
 for and unexpected. You have heard me speak of a very 
 dear friend I had many years ago a young captain in oui 
 regiment Harry Egremont ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Leah, who delighted in nothing so much 
 as in listening to her uncle's stories of Indian life. " Yes, 
 I remember the name." 
 
 " He was one of the finest fellows in the world," cried 
 the general " so simple, generous, brave, and noble ! I 
 have lost sight of him for many years. I hear that he has 
 unexpectedly succeeded to a peerage. I find that he is 
 Duke of Rosedene, and that he lives only seven miles from 
 here. His estate and mine run parallel for miles and 
 I am so delighted, Leah."
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ft 
 
 So am I, for your sake," she said. *' What is the 
 place called ? " 
 
 " Craig," he replied. " Do you remember a picture in 
 the gallery of a grand old gray mansion standing in the 
 midst of a magnificent woodland, with the sunset falling 
 over it ? That is Craig. The duke and duchess live there 
 about three months in the y~ar ; they are generally in town 
 for the season, and during the rest of the year they live at 
 Dene Abbey, a beautiful place in Sussex." 
 
 " Then the duke is married ? " said Leah. 
 
 "Yes; he married a fashionable beauty, and I hear 
 that she is a very nice woman. I am glad for your sake ; 
 she will be such an excellent friend for you. They are at 
 Craig. I shall go over to-morrow, and then you will see 
 that all your difficulties will be ended." 
 
 On the morrow he carried out his resolve, and received 
 a welcome that made his heart glad. The Duke of Rose- 
 dene was delighted to see him ; he overwhelmed him with 
 the warmth of his greeting. 
 
 " To think," he cried " that I should have you for a 
 neighbor ! It is the greatest piece of good fortune that 
 could have fallen to my lot." 
 
 Sir Arthur asked for the duchess, who received him 
 ) with a pleasant, gracious manner that charmed him. To 
 ' her, in his simple fashion, he opened his heart about his 
 niece ; he told her how beautiful she was, and that he had 
 adopted her as his daughter and heiress. The duchess 
 was too much ~f a woman of the world to express any sur- 
 prise ; but, remembering his vast wealth, she knew that his 
 heiress would at once become a person of distinction. 
 
 " It is my niece," h2 said, " That I want to interest 
 your grace in. As my old friend's wife, you will do me a 
 kindness for his sake, I am sure." 
 
 " I will do it for your own," responded the duchess, 
 kindly ; her heart warmed to the brave soldier who tnought
 
 fg A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 so little of himself and so much of others. " I will do all 
 that you wish for your niece," she continued ; " and, as a 
 preliminary, I will drive over to see her to-morrow." 
 And, much delighted, the general took his leave. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE Duchess of Rosedene was fastidious even to a 
 fault. Public opinion was often led by her. If she ap- 
 proved of anything, it was sure to be perfection ; if she 
 disapproved, it was generally found that she was right. 
 To know her was to have the right of entree into the most 
 exclusive circles ; not to know her was in itself a confes- 
 sion of inferiority. To be on her visiting-list, to attend her 
 " at homes," to be asked to her balls the best given in 
 London were honors for which every belle, every fash- 
 ionable woman sighed. She was the only child and 
 wealthy heiress of an earl, and her marriage with the Duke 
 of Rosedene had been dictated by pure affection alone. 
 
 They were exceedingly happy ; but there was one 
 cause for disappointment they had no children. This 
 was the one cloud in their bright sky. At the duke's death 
 his estate and titles must pass into strange hands. It was 
 a grievous trouble to them. In order to forget it, the duke 
 flung himself into the whirl of politics and the duchess 
 into all the gayeties of the world. She was one of the 
 most popular and most highly esteemed women in England. 
 Her name figured everywhere in lists of charities, in 
 every work of benevolence. She was the patroness of in- 
 numerable bazars, fancy fairs, and other fashionable 
 methods of doing good. To be chaperoned by the 
 Duchess of Rosedene was a guarantee of success. But she
 
 THE BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 79 
 
 was fastidious, and not easily pleased. She had gf*%o a 
 promise, charmed by the simple earnestness of the general ; 
 but she wondered if she had done a wise thing. With an 
 anxious face she went to her husband. 
 
 " The Hattons are a good family, are they not ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " One of the oldest and best in England," replied the 
 duke. " Greatly fallen off, I believe ; but one may still 
 be proud of knowing them." 
 
 " I wish," said the duchess, " that I had seen the girl 
 before I made the promise." 
 
 " I am quite sure you need not fear," rejoined the 
 duke. " If she is like the rest of the Hattons, she will be 
 all right." 
 
 But the duchess declared that she was a little nervous. 
 
 "I would do anything," she said, "for your friend. I 
 like him immensely. But I have promised so much for 
 the girl to chaperon her, to present her ; and, if she 
 should not be just what I like, it will be awkward." 
 
 The duke assured her that she might rest content. 
 
 The next day she went over to Brentwood. Any fear 
 she might have had was dissipated by the sight of the face 
 and figure of Leah. Her manner was simply perfection. 
 She showed no over delight, yet she was most attentive and 
 polite to the duchess. She allowed her to see that she felt her 
 visit to be a great honor, yet that, while she acknowledged 
 it, she was in no way unduly elated over it. The duchess 
 was charmed with her. She thought Leah one of the 
 most beautiful and graceful girls she had ever seen. She 
 was struck by her face. There was more than mere 
 beauty ; passion, poetry, and eloquence were in it. She 
 marvelled at Leah's grace, her good breeding, her accom- 
 plishments, and her refined education. She felt there was 
 none more fair, graceful, or better fitted to take a high 
 in society. " I shall be proud of her," thought
 
 go A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 the duchess; "it will be difficult to surpass her." It 
 was not often that her Grace of Rosedene deigned to cha- 
 peron any young lady ; but when she did it was done 
 effectually. 
 
 She watched Leah with keen eyes. Every gesture, 
 every pose, every word pleased her. " She should marry 
 well," thought the duchess. " There will not be another 
 face like hers next season." Yet, beautiful as it was, there 
 was something in its expression which the duchess did not 
 quite understand the dawn of restless passion, the long- 
 ing that could never be gratified, the story that could 
 never be told. " She is not like other girls," thought her 
 grace ; " what satisfies them will never content her. There 
 is something like a longing for the infinite in those dark eyes 
 of hers." And in that moment, seated in Sir Arthur's 
 luxurious drawing-room, surrounded by everything most 
 costly and lovely, looking into the fair, proud face of Leah 
 Hatton, there came to the duchess a foreboding that made 
 her grow faint and pale with fear. 
 
 They were delighted with each other. The duchess 
 pressed Leah to go over to Craig on the following day. 
 
 "I am sorry," she remarked, "that we are not re- 
 maining longer in the neighborhood ; but, go where we will, 
 you must remember our compact. We are to be friends 
 always. Do not forget that I am to be your ' social god- 
 mother,' and that next season I am to present you. I 
 predict for you a grand success." 
 
 The duchess added how delighted she would be if, in 
 the winter months, Leah could join them in a trip she and 
 her husband intended taking to Rome. 
 
 That same evening the duke, entering his wife'* bou- 
 doir, found her standing against the window, looking 
 thoughtfully out on the tall, spreading trees. She did 
 not see him or hear him, and started violently when ha 
 laid bis hand upon her shoulder.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 8l 
 
 " What are you thinking about, Muriel ? " he asked. 
 " I do not often find you meditating." 
 
 She looked up at him gravely. 
 
 " I am thinking," she said, " about Leah Hatton's 
 eyes." 
 
 " What is the matter with them ? " he asked, laughing, 
 " I saw nothing wrong." 
 
 "There is nothing wrong," she replied. "They are 
 the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. Do you remem- 
 ber that superb heartsease of which Hawkins, the gardener, 
 was so proud ? It was not black, but rather a rich dark purple 
 with a gleam of gold in it. Her eyes are of just such a col- 
 or. I thought of the heartsease the moment I saw them. 
 Yet it was not the color, rare and perfect though it be, 
 that struck me the most ; it was the expression. I am 
 quite sure, Harry, that she will have no common fate." 
 
 " My dear Muriel," said the duke, " you are surely not 
 growing romantic ? " 
 
 " No, I am not ; but there is something in the expres- 
 sion of the girl's eyes a passionate longing ; I wonder 
 for what whether for happiness, for wealth, for honors, 
 or for love ? " 
 
 " Do you not class happiness and love together ? " asked 
 the duke. 
 
 " Not in her case, I'm sure ! " cried the duchess. " If 
 ever that girl loves, it will bo with her whole heart ; and 
 you know my belief on that point any woman who loves 
 with her whole heart suffers the direst pain with the most 
 exquisite bliss. To be really comfortable in this life, there 
 must be no grand passions," 
 
 "Perhaps you are right," replied the duke. "For 
 steady wear in the long run, ours was the best kind of 
 love, Muriel." 
 
 " I am sure of it," she answered. " A grand passion 
 would have killed me."
 
 gi A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " Yet you love me with all your heart, Muriel ? " 
 
 " With all my heart," she replied. ' There are women 
 and women, loves and loves. That girl, depend upon it, 
 Harry, has a power of loving to which I am thankful to 
 say, most women are strangers." 
 
 " Yet her face is not at all expressive of tenderness," 
 said the duke ; " it tells rather of pride." 
 
 " It is proud, but there is concentration in it. She will 
 love but few ; and those few she will love well. I feel as 
 though I had been looking at the picture of some beautiful 
 queen of tragedy, some heroine of a grand poem ; I can- 
 not shake off the impression that her face has made upon 
 me. But she is coming over to-morrow, and then I can 
 study her at my ease." 
 
 The duke smiled to himself ; it was some time since 
 he had seen his stately wife so deeply impressed. 
 
 " Was her mother a lady ? " asked the duchess, sud- 
 denly. 
 
 " Yes ; her mother was Sir Arthur's sister. She mar- 
 ried, I believe, beneath her." 
 
 " Then why is she called Hatton ? " asked her grace. 
 
 " Because Sir Arth'ur has adopted her. It is perfectly 
 natural that she should take his name." And the duchess 
 never gave the subject a second thought. 
 
 Sir Arthur had been equally pleased. He had watched 
 the duchess' face when she first saw Leah, and noted the 
 flash of delighted admiration. 
 
 " Your niece is most charming," she had said to him in 
 her gracious way. " Bring her over to Craig, to-morrow." 
 
 He congratulated Leah ; and she smiled with wonder- 
 ing eyes. " It must be a fairy-tale, uncle," she said. "A 
 
 few weeks since, Het " She stopped abruptly, for 
 
 she was on the point of pronouncing the name she had 
 promised never to mention. The very effort to check her- 
 blanched her face and lips. The general appeared
 
 'A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 83 
 
 not to notice it. " But a few weeks since," she said, " I 
 had but one pair of gloves and they were so mended and 
 darned that I was ashamed "to wear them and not five 
 shillings of my own in the wide world. Now I am miss- 
 tress of Brentwood, your adopted child and heiress ; I 
 have a fortune in the treasures you have given me; a 
 duchess takes me by the hand and asks me to be her 
 friend ; I am promised all that this world can give me 
 the loveliest, brightest, happiest life. Now, is it not like a 
 fairy-tale ? " 
 
 " Yes," he replied, looking at her face. 
 
 He wondered if, in the dawn of that rich, passionate 
 loveliness, there was the beginning of sorrow or of joy. 
 
 In the course of a few weeks, Leah was quite at home 
 amidst the luxury and magnificence of Brentwood. As 
 time passed on, the memories of the old painful life grew 
 weak ; the love of her fair young sister was the strongest pas- 
 sion that remained. She thought of her father with a dread 
 that was strangely mingled with regret and love ; but she 
 thought of him as little as possible ; her heart and her rea- 
 son were at war with each other over him. She was grate- 
 ful for her escape from what she termed " a furnace of 
 fire." 
 
 She was armly welcomed at Craig ; the duchess even 
 grew attached to her ; and when, after a gay autumn and 
 innumerable shooting-parties, the time for the projected 
 tour to Rome came, she invited Leah to accompany her. 
 At first the general was inclined to refuse. He had just 
 learned, he said, that he could not live without her, and it 
 was cruel to wish to take her away. But when the 
 duchess showed him all the advantages to be gained, he 
 yielded at once. 
 
 " You have asked me to complete your niece's educa- 
 tion," she said ; " in no way can it be done better than by 
 taking her abroad. A few weeks with me in Paris and in
 
 g^ A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 Rome will change her altogether ; she will be a different 
 
 girl." 
 
 He fixed his eyes lovingly on Leah, 
 
 " Do you think it well to change her ? " he asked, slow- 
 ly. " She seems to me perfect." 
 
 " If you intend to make her a woman of the world, she 
 must change in some respects," said the duchess, a little 
 impatiently. " Leave her to me, Sir Arthur ; I will 
 promise that you shall be satisfied with the result." 
 
 And after that Sir Arthur offered no further opposi- 
 tion. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE Duchess of Rosedene was detained for a consider- 
 able time on the Continent by a severe illness of her hus- 
 band, and in reply to her anxious entreaties the general 
 allowed his beautiful niece to remain with her. Although 
 his heart yearned for her, and his eyes longed once more 
 to behold her, he knew that the care and training which 
 the duchess could bestow were invaluable, and were such 
 as he could not have found elsewhere. He was content to 
 wait. 
 
 During Leah's absentj he purchased a magnificent 
 mansion in Belgravis to which, in loving memory of his 
 native town, he gave the name of Harbury House. The 
 decorations were so magnificent, the furniture was so ele- 
 gant and costly, that public attention was drawn to the 
 house, and it soon became known that Sir Arthur had 
 made this purchase for his adopted niece and heiress, who 
 was now in Italy with the Duchess of Rosedene, and who 
 was so rumor said as beautiful as a vision.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RINQ. 85 
 
 People looked forward with interest to the time when 
 the brilliant young beauty should be presented and take 
 her place among them. It was a pity, certain spinsters 
 and widows declared, that with such vast wealth and so 
 many places to keep up, Sir Arthur did not marry himself ; 
 his beautiful young niece would have some one to look 
 after then. But the keen blue eyes of General Sir Arthur 
 Hatton were never to look on any woman with love, 
 
 The duke's health having been quite restored, the 
 duchess had arranged that the travelling party should return 
 to London at once. It was then the very end of April, 
 and the season had begun. A drawing-room had been 
 held, at which some fair young faces had been seen ; but she 
 knew that none could have equalled that of Leah Hatton. 
 
 The duke had a grand old mansion named Park View 
 close to Hyde Park, while the duchess had a villa which 
 she preferred to any other resort ; it was called the Reach. 
 It was situated on the Thames, not far from Kew, and 
 nothing delighted her grace more than to escape from the 
 crowd and spend a few days on the banks of the river. 
 
 The duke and duchess went direct to Park View. Sir 
 Arthur was invited to meet them, and from their house he 
 was to take Leah home. He was impatient to see her. 
 The duchess had told him that she had changed so com- 
 pletely he would hardly recognize her. He longed to see 
 what change had been effected ; to his way of thinking, 
 she could not have grown more beautiful. 
 
 He stood in the drawing-room at Park View. At first 
 he saw only the pictures, the gleam of white statues, the 
 harmonious tints of thick, soft carpets, the brightness of 
 innumerable flowers, the groups of sweet violets which 
 perfumed the air; then, standing before him, the hand- 
 some, stately duchess, with white, jewelled hands held out 
 in greeting to him ; then, further away, near a slender, 
 shapely palm, he discerned a figure and face so perfectly
 
 86 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 beautiful that he looked in amazement. It was his niece 
 Leah. The long absence had wonderfully improved her. 
 He grew pale as he went up to her and kissed her in 
 silence, for his emotion was too great for words. 
 
 The duchess had been right after all. Nothing but 
 constant association with an accomplished and refined wo- 
 man of the world could have given such high-bred ease and 
 grace to her. 
 
 "My daughter and niece," he said, "you have been 
 away little more than a year, yet there is a difference of 
 many years in you." 
 
 " Are you satisfied ? " asked the duchess, softly, some 
 time afterward, when they found themselves alone. 
 
 " I should be most ungrateful were I anything else," 
 he replied. " I can never thank you enough. I must con- 
 fess myself overwhelmed with surprise." 
 
 " I do not feel much inclined to let my treasure pass 
 out of my hands," said the duchess, with a smile. " If I 
 intrust her to you, you must promise me that she shall not 
 be seen until the day of the drawing-room. I want her to 
 take the gay world by surprise. She will make a sensation 
 such as we have not had for some time past. Do you not 
 agree with me ? " 
 
 " With every word," replied the general. " I feel my- 
 self almost in awe in the presence of such perfect and peer, 
 less loveliness." 
 
 " Mind," said the duchess, laughingly, " Leah must 
 make the best match of the season. I shall not consider 
 any one under an earl or duke presentable. She might 
 have been a' princess while we were in Rome, but she 
 would not." 
 
 "I am glad of it," he declared. "There are no men 
 like Englishmen. I hope she will marry if she marries 
 at all some one who will be kind to her and make her 
 happy."
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. g; 
 
 It did not occur to him to add, " some one whom she 
 loves." Love had never been a necessity of life with the 
 old soldier. 
 
 Sir Arthur took his beautiful niece home that evening 
 to Harbury House. 
 
 " Do you know why I gave this house the name of Har- 
 bury ? " he said to her ; and then he told her that it was 
 in affectionate remembrance of the pretty town where his 
 father had lived and died. 
 
 Magnificent as the house was, it was but a fitting shrine 
 for the young beauty who had come to be mistress of it. 
 When they stood in the drawing-room, Sir Arthur regarded 
 his niece still more attentively. 
 
 " I should hardly have known you, Leah," he said, gen- 
 tly. " Among all the Hattons I do not think we have had 
 one like you." 
 
 The exquisite face brightened. 
 
 "There are times, uncle," she said, "when I do not 
 quite know myself the change is so great to me." 
 
 " My dear Leah," he returned, in the earnest simple 
 manner which alwa ys carried truth with it, " you were born 
 for the station I hope to see you fill. It would have been 
 ten thousand pities to leave you where you were." 
 
 That was the ofl ly allusion the general ever made to 
 the past, and it seemed to be wrung from him by the sur- 
 prise of her marvellous loveliness. 
 
 On that same night he showed Leah all over the magni- 
 ficent mansion that he. had made his own, with all its 
 treasures of art and wealth. 
 
 "This will be yours when I die, Leah," he said ; and 
 he was proud to s^e that no flush of elation came to her 
 face. " I wonder Leah," he said, suddenly, " if you could 
 bear ill-fortune as well as you do prosperity ? " 
 
 " I trust so," she answered ; and the firm, steadfast ex- 
 pression on her face made him think that she could.
 
 88 ^ BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " I hope you will never be tried," he said. 
 
 They sat together for some time talking. He was 
 charmed with Leah's manner, her bright, fascinating ways, 
 her graceful, well-chosen words. 
 
 "You shall not leave me again, Leah," he said, "until 
 you are married." 
 
 " I do not think I am one of the marrying kind," she 
 replied, with a sweet, low laugh. 
 
 " Among the old Roman noblesse and gay Neapolitan 
 princes was there not one you liked, Leah ? " 
 
 " I liked them all in the same fashion," she replied 
 " The Prince of San Sabino is, I should think, as hand- 
 some a man as could be seen in the world, with a most 
 musical voice and most courtly manner. They call him 
 the Roman Apollo." 
 
 " And even this Apollo did not interest you, Leah ? " 
 he said. 
 
 " No ; so, dearest uncle, if we are to live together until 
 I am married, I do not see any chance of our parting just 
 yet." 
 
 " That's right," he said. " I could hardly bear to lose 
 you at present, Leah. Let me see how old are you now ? " 
 
 " I am in my nineteenth year," she replied. 
 
 " And when is the drawing-room to be held ? " 
 
 " Next Tuesday." 
 
 " And from that day a new life will unfold to you, I 
 suppose. I wish you success ; I could not wish it more earn- 
 estly were you my own daughter." 
 
 When, after a few days of anxious preparation, Leah 
 stood before him dressed for her presentation, he owned 
 himself perfectly well pleased. The duchess, whose taste 
 was irreproachable, had chosen her court dress ; and the 
 general had presented her with a suite of diamonds stones 
 that shone and scintillated with every movement dizv 
 monds that made many envious.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 89 
 
 " Are you quite satisfied with me, uncle ? " she asked, 
 with a smile that deepened her bright loveliness. 
 
 " Quite," he answered. " I always thought the fashion 
 of wearing fathers awkward until now." 
 
 The duchess called for her, and they drove away to the 
 Palace together. The day was fine, the crowd great. 
 Many of the royal family were present. There were de- 
 butantes from many of the noblest families in the land; 
 but Leah outshone them all as a planet outshines the 
 stars. 
 
 She never forgot the moment when she stood first in 
 the presence of the gracious lady who rules the vast empire 
 over which the sun never sets. Looking up with half- 
 frightened eyes, she saw before her a noble, kindly face, 
 with a pleasant smile, she saw the gleam of jewelled orders. 
 A kindly voice was speaking to her. The niece of so 
 brave and worthy a soldier as Sir Arthur Hatton could not 
 but be welcomed by the sovereign whom he had so faith- 
 fully served. Looking at the royal lady, so true a woman, 
 and so true a Queen, Leah bethought her of who she herself 
 really was the daughter of the man who used all his elo- 
 quence, and every other gift of Heaven to him, in his 
 endeavors to hurl his sovereign from her throne, to turn the 
 hearts of her people from her ; and, as she bent low be- 
 fore the Queen, her eyes were dim with tears. True loy- 
 alty rose in her heart, and she thanked Heaven once more 
 that she had been saved from what seemed to her worse 
 than " a furnace of fire." She could never have spoken 
 against the Queen, or led the hearts of her people from 
 her. She smiled to herself a half sad smile. It seemed 
 so strange that she, who was once destined to be a lecturer 
 against royalty, should now be presented to her Majesty.
 
 A tiROKEN 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FROM the day of her presentation a new life began for 
 Leah. Hitherto she had seen but little of the world. In 
 Rome and in Naples the Duchess had taken her out but 
 little. She wanted her to take the London world captive 
 by her fresh and undimmed beauty ; she did so. On the 
 day of the drawing-room Uttle else was discussed but the 
 loveliness, the rich dress, the costly jewels, the vast wealth 
 of Miss Hatton. People even went into raptures over her 
 name, and said that no other would have suited her dark 
 passionate beauty. 
 
 In a few days " the beautiful Miss Hatton " grew fa- 
 mous she became the rage. On the night of the day that 
 she had been presented, the Duchess of Rosedene gave a 
 sumptuous ball, at which she was the belle. Some young 
 girls would have been both elated and excited by the sensa- 
 tion made. She was neither ; she was cool, calm, stately 
 as a young empress. Some of the noblest men in the land 
 bowed before her, peers complimented her; but the beauti- 
 ful face never flushed, the beautiful eyes never brightened 
 with triumph. 
 
 " Who shall say that good blood does not tell ? " thought 
 the old soldier. " I do not believe her pulse would beat 
 more quickly even if an emperor asked her to dance." 
 
 He was right ; in this, the most brilliant scene in which 
 she had ever mingled, a strange sense of unreality came 
 over her. She could remember the fiery, passionate burning 
 words with which her father had denounced all such gay- 
 eties and the men and women who joined in them ; and yet, 
 here was she, his eldest daughter, who had been trained
 
 TfTB BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ga 
 
 by him, the very queen of one of the assemblies he cen- 
 sured ! 
 
 There was a few moments' pause for her, during which 
 she said to herself that her past life shadowed the present, 
 during which she wondered if she would have been per- 
 fectly happy had the past been different, had she been 
 differently trained. Those watching her wondered at the 
 shadow that seemed to fall over her face. 
 
 It was not the perfect beauty alone which attracted men, 
 She was unlike most girls of her age. She was calm, but 
 not content ; nothing seemed to interest her long the 
 sweetest music, the most witty or animated conversation, 
 could not hold her for any time. She was restless, as one 
 always seeking something better than that yet found. The 
 only time when she seemed quite satisfied was when she 
 poured out all the pent-up passion and poetry of her nature 
 in music of her own. Men were quick to perceive that 
 she was not of the ordinary type of girls, that flattery did 
 not touch her, that she was above all coquetry and flirta- 
 tion. Half of those who met her went home that night 
 raving of her. 
 
 The duchess was delighted with her success. She had 
 felt sure of it, she had prophesied it ; but it had far ex- 
 ceeded even her most sanguine anticipations. 
 
 " The world is at her feet, Sir Arthur," she said ; " she 
 can do as she will. No girl ever made a more successful 
 debut. I am proud of her. Look at her no\v." The 
 duchess was seated watching the dancing; Sir Arthur stood 
 by her side. "Look," she continued, "at the easy self- 
 possession. There is not the faintest flush on her face, 
 not even the faintest stir in the diamonds that lie on hei 
 breast, not a quiver in the blossoms of the lovely flowers . 
 ehe holds." 
 
 Yet on one side of her stood a gallant, genial prince, 
 on the other a group of the most notable men io the world
 
 g 3 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 of fashion. She turned with ready attention from one to 
 another, without coquetry, without affectation. The pro- 
 fessional beauties fought shy of her, and were very hard 
 in their criticisms, much to the amusement of the sterner 
 sex ; they did not see what there was to rave about. Lord 
 Dunbar, who was supposed to be a good authority on 
 beauty, said that if she had no other charm but that of the 
 long dark silken lashes that fringed her eyes, she would 
 still be the fairest of women. 
 
 The scene was like a dream to Leah, a dream that 
 never quite faded. The golden flood of light that made 
 everything so clear and distinct, the thousands of lovely 
 fragrant flowers, the magnificent decorations, the grand 
 crashing of the music, the fair faces, the rich dresses, the 
 subdued silvery murmur of laughter and of sweet voices, 
 the rhythm of the flying feet, the admiring eyes that rested 
 on her, the deep voices, that had whispered compliments to 
 her, lived in her memory for years. No other ball in after 
 years was like this. 
 
 When they reached home Sir Arthur was surprised to 
 find that his niece looked almost as dainty and as fresh as 
 when she had started. The flowers had not withered in 
 her hand, there was no sign of fatigue in the beautriful face, 
 or of weariness in the dark eyes. 
 
 " It has been a grand success, Leah," said Sir Arthur, 
 as he bade her good-night " one of which we may both 
 be proud." 
 
 " A grand success indeed," she replied. Yet even as 
 she said the words, a sense of desolation and loneliness 
 filled her heart. 
 
 A little later she stood in her luxurious dressing-room. 
 Everything that surrounded her was costly ; rich jewels 
 gleaming in their satin cases, fans, slippers, ornaments of 
 every kind, intermixed with choice flowers, made a very 
 confusion of beauty j the delicate carpet of velvet pile was
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 93 
 
 soft and thick ; the hangings were of white and pink ; a 
 few choice engravings adorned the walls ; treasures of mar- 
 quetry, dainty carvings, and lovely statuettes told of the 
 artistic taste which made the room a gem. She stood 
 in the midst of it, her heart still beating with the emotion 
 she had not been able to control. A success indeed ! Yet 
 in the olden days, so far off, when she had been with Het- 
 tie for a stroll in the wood or by the sea, or even in the 
 crowded streets of the city, she had felt happier and less 
 lonely than now. She had everything that wealth and af- 
 fection could lavish upon her, and yet she was lonely. If 
 only the fair, loving sister were here ! If only the loving 
 arms were round her, and she could kiss the sweet face ! 
 A success ? Ay, it was that indeed ! But was she really 
 happy ? Her maid had gone away, so she drew aside the 
 curtains and stood at the window, watching the moonlight 
 on the trees. 
 
 Was she happy ? What were the vague, curious de- 
 sires that filled her heart ? 
 
 No girl in this world had a brighter future. True, there 
 was a dark background to the past ; but the time to come 
 seemed bright enough. She wondered what would make 
 her happy ? Not money ; she had already many thousands, 
 and the time would come when she would have more. 
 Money had nothing to do with it. It was not iank or posi- 
 tion, title or grandeur. She remembered that but a short 
 time since she had heard the story of a beautiful and be- 
 loved young princess who was compelled from political 
 motives to make a marriage of state. She heard of the 
 sighs and moans that sounded at night in the palace, and 
 how, on her wedding eve, the beautiful young princess was 
 drugged to sleep. Ah, no it was not grandeur or rank ! 
 The heart of aqueen often aches as keenly as the heart of 
 a peasant. There was something far better worth living 
 for than all this.
 
 9 4 THE BROKEN WEDDING-RIXG. 
 
 Some exquisite lines were tinging vaguely through her 
 brain of the desire of a moth for a star. Was she the 
 moth, and happiness the star ? There must be a bright, 
 beautiful something in life that she had not reached yet, 
 something higher and better than rank, fame, or gold, some- 
 thing that was the crown of life and the treasure of woman- 
 hood. The knowledge came to her, in that silent hour, that 
 nothing would ever content her but " a great love " 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 DURING the next three years Leah Hatton was the very 
 queen of fashion. She was more popular, more sought, 
 after, more admired, more beloved, more envied than any 
 other woman of her day. Her beauty grew with her years. 
 She was twenty-one now, and the magnificent promise of her 
 girlhood had been fulfilled. Her loveliness had grown 
 richer ; the gleam in her dark eyes was brighter ; the dainty 
 bloom that had been faint as the hue of a blush rose had 
 deepened ; the face was radiant in its own loveliness men 
 found it more than fair. During those three years she 
 had presided with infinite grace over the large establish- 
 ment at Brentwood and the magnificent house in town. 
 At Brentwood she had received party after party of guests, 
 including some of the greatest statesmen of the day, and 
 she was considered one of the most attractive hostesses in 
 the land. In a wonderfully short time she acquired the art 
 of entertaining, knew " who was who," and, in fact, was 
 equal to all the requirements of social life. She never 
 made any mistakes. After a few weeks the general found 
 that he could with safety leave everything to her. The 
 servants worshipped her ; one word from their beautiful
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 95 
 
 young mistress was law. She was worshipped, too, by the 
 poor around Brentwood, for she gave with a liberal hand ; 
 she was beloved by all her dependents, for she was both 
 just and generous by all who knew her for her beauty 
 and talents and winsome grace. At Harbury House dur- 
 ing those three seasons she was a queen. The best din- 
 ners, the best balls, the most successful private theatricals 
 were given there. There were many other debutantes, but 
 no one ever approached her ; the throne she held was 
 entirely her own. 
 
 Season after season the beautiful Leah Hatton came 
 back to the gay world with fresh graces and charms. She 
 was singular in many respects. She made many acquaint- 
 ances, but very few friends. She had no girl-friend to 
 whom she could speak of her thoughts and feelings ; her 
 heart grew sad when she thought of any one else in 
 Hettie's place. Among the faces of the girls around her 
 she saw not one so sweet and fair as Hettie's ; and, re- 
 membering this, a coldness came to Miss Hatton which 
 added to the effect of her proud young beauty. She was 
 considered everywhere as the most eligible, the most de- 
 sirable match of the day. It was well known that she was 
 the general's niece ; no one cared to ask whether she was 
 the child of sister or brother. It was also well known that 
 the whole of the general's vast fortune would be hers. She 
 was at the very height of her popularity : people spared 
 themselves no trouble to obtain even a glimpse of her fair 
 face. When she went to the opera, more attention was 
 paid to her than to the stage. 
 
 " Beautiful Leah Hatton ! " What more in life could 
 she desire than she had wealth, popularity, affection ? 
 Yet she was not happy ; her soul had found no rest. Bril- 
 liant and gay as was her life, it did not satisfy her. It was 
 bu, as a dream to one who has ia^nite longings and infinite 
 desires.
 
 ^6 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 If Martin Ray succeeded in nothing else, he had done 
 this for his daughter he had taken her out of the common 
 groove, he had made her think, he had filled her mind 
 with a thousand ideas of life. These were always puz- 
 zling her. She had the air, the manner, the look of one 
 whose thoughts and aims were higher and loftier than those 
 of others. This added much to the charm of her passion- 
 ate, proud beauty. The men who danced with her admired 
 her the more because no flush of vanity came to her face. 
 There was upon it the far-off look, the restless longing that 
 nothing could gratify. 
 
 " As for lovers," the duchess of Rosedene cried, hold- 
 ing up her hands in horror, " there is not an eligible man 
 in the land who has not sought her ! Such offers, and all 
 refused ! Refused too, without rhyme or reason ! Leah 
 has some notion that she must love some one, that love is 
 the great end and aim of each one's life love not wealth, 
 pleasure, or gayety, but love ; and, with such ideas, what can 
 one do ? " The duchess shrugged her shoulders as she 
 spoke. " Love, with such prospects as she has before 
 her ! " 
 
 Some of the offers Miss Hatton received were dazzling 
 ones. The young Earl of Barberry was handsome, talented 
 and passionately fond of her. No; she would not be 
 Countess of Barberry. There was the Duke of Lincoln, 
 who had country seats, a town mansion, and untold wealth, 
 who would have made her his duchess. She would not be 
 Duchess of Lincoln ; and she had no other reason to give 
 than that she did not love him ; and the one thing she 
 longed for in this life was love. 
 
 " Love ! " said the duchess. " It will come with 
 marriage." 
 
 " Not the love I want," she replied; "that must come 
 before. I want a romance in my life,"
 
 THE BROKEN WEDDTNG-RINto. 9t 
 
 " It is the way with those dark-eyed girls," said the 
 duchess. " What a pity it is ! " 
 
 Then a great legal celebrity fell in love with Leah ; 
 and of all the conquests she made that was certainly the 
 most wonderful. He was a man whose name was a tower 
 of strength, whose opinion was held in the highest esteem, 
 and who had never spent one half-hour in wooing in his 
 life. He grew desperate about her, and the wonder was 
 that he did not run away with her. He could not realize 
 his disappointment ; he could hardly bear his life when 
 she refused him. The duchess sighed, but said nothing. 
 If the Earl of Barberry could not win her, there was little 
 hope for the legal lord. 
 
 " You will marry some time, Leah," she said, with the 
 resignation of despair. 
 
 " It is possible," she replied, smiling ; " but it is more 
 probable that I shall never marry at all." 
 
 " Should you mind telling me why ? " asked the duch- 
 ess, in tones of mock resignation. 
 
 " I will tell you, duchess ; but you will be angry with 
 me. I want some one to love me more than life itself 
 some one to be devoted to me, to give me all his thoughts, 
 his whole life ; I want his heart to be one with mine, his 
 soul to be the other half of my soul. I want perfect love 
 and I want a perfect lover. I have my ideal love, and no 
 other will do ; I have my ideal lover, and I shall wait for 
 him." 
 
 " My dear Leah, you are all wrong," cried the duchess ; 
 " you are, indeed ! Take care that you do not find such 
 Jove and such a lover costly." 
 
 " I will take the pain, if there should be any, with the 
 happiness," she said. " All my life I have thought that 
 the one thing to be desired is love.'* 
 
 " There is no accounting for taste, Leah ; but certainly, 
 with such prospects as you have, to make love the chief
 
 9 g ^ BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 aim of your life is, to say the least of it, a sad pity. This 
 ideal hero of yours is sure to be both poor and unknown." 
 
 Leah laughed again. How sweet that laughter was 1 
 The duchess smiled as she heard it. 
 
 " I cannot tell ; he may be the very reverse of poor or 
 unknown. I do not know who he is or where he may be. 
 It is just possible that I may never meet him ; but he 
 exists somewhere. You know the old belief, duchess, that 
 souls were made in halves, and that real marriage is the 
 union of those half souls in one ? " 
 
 " Oh, Leah," cried the duchess, laughing, " there is no 
 hope for you ! " 
 
 " Not much," she said, " for I believe that I am waiting 
 for my ideal ; and he, rely upon it, is seeking me some- 
 where. If we meet, I shall ask no more in life. He may 
 be poor and unknown ; if so, it will make no difference to 
 me. He may be great, noble, and wealthy ; it will be a 
 matter of perfect indifference to me. Shall I shock you 
 just a little more, duchess ? " she added. 
 
 " Say what you will, my dear; I am resigned." 
 
 " I have an idea that the moment I see him I shall 
 know him. I shall look into his face, and a revelation wilJ 
 come to me." 
 
 "A very dangerous notion, Leah. You may fall in love 
 with the wrong man altogether." 
 
 " How can I, if my theory be true ? " she replied. " I 
 have no doubt it seems absurd to you ; but it is a serious 
 matter to me. I should not be surprised if some day I 
 look into a face and hear a voice say : * I have been look- 
 ing for you all these years.' " 
 
 The duchess raised her hands. 
 
 "And this," she said musingly "this is after five 
 years spent almost entirely with me, after three seasons 
 of brilliant, uninterrupted success ! " 
 
 " I have enjoyed it," replied Leah ; " but there must
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 95 
 
 be something better. Balls and operas, jetes and garden 
 parties, dinners and picnics, dresses and diamonds, flattery 
 and homage, are all very well but they could not fill a 
 life. There is no heart, no soul in them ; and," she con- 
 tinued, half sadly, " one must tire of them after a time." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " asked the duchess, looking at her 
 gravely. 
 
 " Yes I do. One ball is like another there are the 
 same people, the same dances, music, jewels ; all one's part- 
 ners say pretty nearly the same things. Dinners are the 
 same one differs very little from another. At the opera, 
 although there is infinite beauty in the music, it is always 
 the same story of love or jealousy. No, I do not think 
 that even a life spent amid such brilliant scenes could fill 
 one's heart and soul." 
 
 "You are a strange girl, Leah," said the duchess. 
 " Who would imagine that the belle of the season had such 
 notions as these ? You have made me very uncomfortable, 
 my dear. I shall live now in dread always that some day 
 or other you will meet with one whom you may choose to 
 imagine your ideal, and do something rash. I always said 
 that there was something in your face even that made 
 you different from other girls. But, Leah as you have 
 trusted me so far, trust me even further. Tell me, among 
 all the men you have met and you know the wisest the 
 noblest, the best is there not one of them whom you have 
 liked ! " 
 
 " Not one," she replied. " I shall know when I meet 
 my ideal ; my heart shall speak and tell me. I have not 
 met him yet." 
 
 " When you do, my dear, I prophesy Well, I will 
 
 not prophesy ; I will only tell you that a grand passion 
 brings more pain than pleasure, and that if you want to 
 be happy you must avoid the terrible fever that men cali 
 love."
 
 too A BROKEN WEDDING-RlbG* 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE Duke and Duchess of Rosedene had become very 
 much attached to Leah, and when the season ended they 
 begged the general and her to come to pay them a long 
 visit at Dene Abbey. They were to remain there during 
 the autumn and winter. Sir Arthur did not quite like the 
 idea, and a compromise was made. The whole party were 
 to visit Brentwood first, and remain there for six weeks ; 
 then they were to go to Dene Abbey and stay there as 
 long as Sir Arthur wished an arrangement which pleased 
 every one. Leah by this time had grown to love the 
 duchess so much that she never liked to be separated from 
 her for long together. 
 
 Brentwood was looking its best at the end of July. 
 The lovely month was as fair as it could be not too warm, 
 but with all the glory of sunlight, the song of birds, the 
 bloom of flowers, the beauty of spreading trees and sing- 
 brooks. There are few counties in England so charming 
 as Warwickshire. Shady woods, green hills, clear, deep 
 streams, meres on which the great white water-lilies sleep, 
 valleys full of ferns and wild flowers, render it a beautiful 
 county ; and Brentwood was one of the most beautiful 
 places in it. The mansion was built on rising ground over- 
 looking the river Brent a deep, clear stream, full of lights 
 and shadows, that meandered through the fairest woodland 
 and seemed to sing as it wandered, of the scenes it had 
 left behind it. Of arches formed by the green willow-trees 
 beside it, of dark, cold, shadowy nooks, of laughing hill- 
 sides which glowed in the sun, of green fields, of white 
 swans that sailed down it, of reeds and sedges through
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ioi 
 
 which the wind made music, of pretty rustic bridges that 
 spanned it, of lovers that whispered sweet words on its 
 banks of all these the river seemed to murmur. 
 
 The grounds of the mansion extended to the very banks 
 of the river. There was a picturesque old boat-house, 
 haunted, so rumor said, by the spirit of a jealous, unhappy 
 lady who had drowned herself in the stream, and whose 
 dead body had drifted into the cool, silent shadows of the 
 boat-house, where it was found the next day. 
 
 The Brent woods were as beautiful as a dream a fair, 
 green kingdom, inhabited by the most musical of birds, by 
 shy rabbits, by saucy squirrels, by a thousand living things 
 known only to ardent students of Nature. There were 
 avenues like great cathedral aisles, full of gleaming lights, 
 half green, half gold ; lovely shady " clearings," where the 
 flowers grew so that they formed a carpet butter-cups 
 and daisies, meadow-sweet and celandine, wild hya- 
 cinths and blue-bells, flowers enough to send a poet or 
 artist into raptures. Hidden in the woods, too, were 
 numerous little brooks, tributaries of the river Brent. 
 
 As the mansion stood on the slope of a great green 
 hill, its appearance was very striking. From the back- 
 ground there seemed to arise a forest of green ; on either 
 side stretched smiling woodlands, and in front the beauti- 
 ful terraces and grounds sloped down to the brimming 
 river. 
 
 The general had invited several guests to Brentwood, 
 and the party promised to be a very pleasant one. 
 
 " At some future day you will be sole mistress of this 
 beautiful place, Leah," said the duchess, as they were 
 walking one morning on the great terrace. 
 
 " I suppose so, " she replied ; " but I never like to 
 think of the time. I wish that my uncle could live as 
 long as if not longer than, I shall. " She seemed anx- 
 ious not t continue the conversation, for soon afterward
 
 JOS A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 she clasped her hands in delight. " O, duchess 1 " she 
 said, " what quantities of my favorite passion-flower ! And 
 what colors purple, scarlet, and blue ! What rich clus- 
 ters ! I must gather some ; they are like the faces of old 
 friends smiling at me." 
 
 " You have brought passion-flowers into fashion," the 
 duchess said smiling ; " I never saw you without them. 
 Why do you like them better than any other flower, 
 Leah?" 
 
 " I do not knov/. I think it is because they are mys- 
 tical flowers ; they are full of mystery and passion and 
 sorrow." 
 
 " You ought to like red roses best," said the duchess ; 
 " they suit you." 
 
 " No," returned Leah ; " give me scarlet passion-flow- 
 ers ; they seem to me choicest of all." 
 
 "I suppose," laughed the duchess, "that when the 
 ideal ' he ' comes it will be discovered that his favorite 
 flower is the passion-flower ? " 
 
 " I should not be surprised," replied Leah, gently. 
 
 *' That will be one of the signs by which you will know 
 him," said the duchess, mockingly ; but afterward the 
 words came back to her, and she marvelled at them. 
 
 What the duchess had said was true Leah had 
 brought the passion-flower into fashion. It was her favor- 
 ite. If in a fashionable crowd one saw the gleam of 
 scarlet passion-flowers, it was certain that beautiful Leah 
 Hatton was there. This fancy of hers was well known 
 when Millar, the great artist, painted her portrait that 
 year the loveliest picture on the walls of the Royal Acad- 
 emy. He carried out the poetic idea ; he painted her, in 
 all the pride of her girlish beauty, in a dress of superb 
 black velvet, with scarlet passion-flowers in her dark hair, 
 on her white breast, and shining like flame in her shapely 
 hand, The picture created quite as great a sensation as
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 103 
 
 the original had. People crowded to see it. The artist 
 had named it " The Passion-flower," and those who saw it 
 felt that there was some strange affinity between the beau- 
 tiful face, with its dark eyes and wild-rose bloom, its ripe, 
 scarlet lips, its dawn of passion, and the passion-flower 
 The critics all raved of it, society journals praised it, and 
 it brought the mystical flower into fashion ; and during the 
 third season Miss Hatton spent in London she was known 
 as the " Passion-flower. " 
 
 " I have had an adventure this morning, " said Sit 
 Arthur, as they sat down to luncheon. " I find that the 
 young master of Glen is expected home during the week. 
 I lost my way in the woods, and came out quite close to 
 the mansion ; I have been all over it. " 
 
 " Where and what is Glen ? " asked the duchess. 
 
 And Sir Arthur smiled as he said : 
 
 w I ought to be a poet to answer you ; it is almost im- 
 possible to do so in prose. Glen is simply one of the most 
 lovely spots I know in England. " 
 
 " More beautiful than Brentwood, uncle ? " asked 
 Leah. 
 
 "Quite different, Leah. Glen was once the dower- 
 nouse of a queen ; three hundred years ago it came into 
 possession of the Carltons, and has been theirs ever since. 
 It is simply perfect. Your eyes are almost dazzled by the 
 gleam of sunlight in the waters of the many fountains, and 
 by the bright colors of the flowers. The surroundings, too, 
 are most picturesque. " 
 
 " I should like to see it, " said the duchess. 
 
 So should I, " added Leah. 
 
 " Fair ladies, " cried Sir Arthur, " you shall see it 
 whenever you will. The house itself looks so cheerful, no 
 one would ever think that it had once been the scene of 4 
 tragedy. " 
 
 " Was it ? " asked the duchess. " Tell it to us.
 
 104 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " I am a new-comer, " said the general, " and naturally 
 enough, I know but little about it. But one of the gar- 
 deners at Glen spoke of the story this morning. I asked 
 him how long the house had been closed, and he said 
 fifteen years. Of course, I asked him how that was, and he 
 said that Lady Carlton could never bear to enter it agiin, 
 and that after the accident, she had taken her son, Sir. 
 Basil, to Italy, where she spent the remainder of her life, 
 but that he, now that his mother was dead, was coming 
 back to live here. " 
 
 " What was the accident ? " asked the duchess. 
 
 " A very horrible one. Lady Carlton was left a widow 
 when she was very young. She had but two children y- 
 girl and a boy ; the daughter Adela, was seven years older 
 than the son. She was a very winning girl, the very joy 
 of Lady Carlton's heart. She fell in love I forget who 
 the lover was and everything was arranged for the wed- 
 ding. She was then eighteen, and the young brother only 
 eleven. On the night before the wedding Lady Carlton 
 gave a grand ball, and Glen was filled with a gay crowd 
 of guests ; they danced until the very walls seemed to 
 rock. The old man told me that the bride was like some 
 lovely laughing fairy. Just as the ball was closing, and 
 when the happiness and gayety were greatest, a ter/ible 
 cry was heard. It came from the supper-room, the grand 
 old banqueting-hall where kings and queens had feasted. 
 The guests rushed out, only to witness a most horrible 
 scene. The beautiful bride, with terrible cries, was seen 
 flying across the hall, her bright gossamer robes all aflame. 
 Her light, fluttering ball-dress had caught fire, and, the 
 draught of air fanning the flames, they met over her head, 
 and enveloped her. For a moment every one was para- 
 lyzed ; and then one of the guests, a gentleman, caught up 
 a thick rug and rolled it round her. He was burned terri- 
 bly, but he extinguished the flames. It was too late,
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 105 
 
 When the hapless lover hastened to the hall, he saw the 
 girl lying in her agony on the ground, her golden hair 
 burned, her face distorted, her pretty dress of white lace 
 and the white water-lilies all hanging in scorched shreds 
 around her. She spoke a few words to him, and then 
 they carried her upstairs to die. " 
 
 " What a terrible story ! " said he duchess. 
 
 " When Lady Carlton recovered from the shock, " 
 added Sir Arthur, " she went abroad, and took her son 
 with her. She died at Naples last year, and the master, 
 Sir Basil, is coming home. " 
 
 " It will be a great trial to him to return to the scene 
 of such a catastrophe, " said the kindly duchess. " You 
 must ask him here as often as you can. " 
 
 "The house is so cheerful, so bright and beautiful, 
 you would never think that a tragedy had happened 
 there. " 
 
 " There is a tragedy associated with most houses, but 
 the world does not know it, " said the duchess. 
 
 " I pray heaven, " said the general, " that there wiil 
 never be one in this ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 It was a lovely day in the first week of August. The 
 laughing summer had taken full possession of the land ; 
 the yellow wheat and the glowing fruit had been kissed to 
 ripeness by the warm sun. The sky was blue, without a 
 cloud, and the fruitful earth fair to view. The river flow- 
 ed calmly between the green banks, rustling through the 
 reeds and sedges, stirring the great leaves of the lilies, 
 tippling over the drooping boughs.
 
 10 g A BROKEN" WEDDING-RING. 
 
 ' It was drawing near noon. Some of the men had 
 sought the coolness of the billiard-room ; some ot the 
 ladies had retired to the shade of the great cedar-tee, 
 with books and work. Leah had gone to her favorite spot, 
 the terrace, where the passion-flowers grew in such profu- 
 sion. She had taken them under her special protection 
 and visited them every day. She little knew what a beau- 
 tiful picture she made while standing there. Her exquisite 
 face, with its dainty color and sweet lips, was bent 
 thoughtfully over the flowers. She wore a long trailing 
 dress of pale amber. Every graceful line of her figure 
 was seen to the greatest advantage ; an artist who could 
 have painted her as she stood there in the shade of the 
 veranda, with the glorious coloring of sunlight and flowers 
 about her, would have immortalized himself. She smiled 
 as she gathered some of the passion-flowers, remembering 
 the name given to her. 
 
 Then her thoughts went to Hettie, who had loved the 
 sweet white lilies best. How different life would be if 
 that beloved sister were here, how doubly precious this 
 grand domain if Hettie shared it ! In the gleaming light 
 on the river, in the fire of the scarlet passion-flower, in the 
 flowers of the gay parterre, she saw the sweet fair face 
 with its aureole of golden hair. Would they ever meet 
 again ? she wondered, sadly. Love, even of Hettie, would 
 help to fill her life for life to her was nothing without 
 love. Suddenly the wind, which had hitherto been but a 
 languid breath, seemed to strengthen. Was it the quick- 
 ening breeze that made her tremble ? Had the thought 
 of Hettie unnerved her. She found herself still looking 
 over the terrace walls, her eyes fixed on two figures that 
 were advancing slowly toward her. A strange sense of 
 unreality possessed her. She could have believed herself 
 in the midst of a dream ; she could have believed that the 
 brimming river, the blue sky, the green earth, the cluste*
 
 A BROKEN WEDDTATG-RING. 107 
 
 of flowers, were all pictures and not realities. For a few 
 seconds everything seemed to be quite still around her 
 still even as death ; then the golden light dazzled her, and 
 a sweet message seemed wafted to her on the summer 
 breeze. She made a desperate effort to rouse herself 
 from the curious, trance-like feeling that was gradually 
 mastering her, and then she saw Sir Arthur standing close 
 to her, a stranger by his side. 
 
 " Leah, " said the general, " our neighbor, Sir Basil 
 Carlton, has been kind enough to waive ceremony ana 
 call upon us first. Sir Basil, my adopted daughter and 
 dear niece, Miss Hatton. " 
 
 She saw a dark head bent before her. She knew her 
 doom was come ; she had known it when she saw him 
 walking between the great magnolia-trees. She had al- 
 ways said to herself that she should know at once, and 
 now she knew. 
 
 For some minutes she did not dare to raise her eyes, 
 knowing that she was about to look upon the face that 
 was to hold all the light of earth and sky for her. She 
 did look up slowly at last, with the same rapt, reverent 
 gaze with which heathen worshippers look at the sun. A 
 great hush, a great calm came over her. She saw a noble 
 face, full of fire and impetuosity, she saw dark eyes and 
 straight brows, a firm mouth, dark clusters of hair, and a 
 dark moustache. Yet beauty was not the chief charm of 
 the stranger's face ; courage and dauntless truth shone 
 there. Most people, when they first met Sir Basil Carlton, 
 were struck by his handsome features and manly bearing, 
 but they were attracted even more when the eyes took a 
 tender light and the mouth a smile sweet as any woman's. 
 
 With the first direct glance of his eyes, her heart went 
 down before him. He had come at last, this king among 
 men, for whom she had waited so long. How strange 
 that he should find her here, in the home that was to bo
 
 ,08 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 hers, in the midst of the flowers she loved ! How strange 
 that he should be introduced to her on this lovely morning; 
 when sun, birds, and flowers seemed to vie with each 
 other, and the river sung the sweetest melody she had 
 ever heard ! She felt inclined to look up at him and ask, 
 " Have you looked for me long ? Do you know me ? " but 
 prudence restrained her. Even the duchess, who loved 
 her, had laughed at her ideas. 
 
 " I like England better than Italy," said Sir Basil, sud- 
 denly, after a few remarks. " Here, even in August, how 
 cool and green everything is ! You cannot think what a 
 picture you made, Miss Hatton, standing against this 
 background of foliage and flowers. " 
 
 " You have been in Italy for many years ?" she said, 
 quietly. 
 
 He drew just a little nearer to her. A great, trailing 
 spray of passion-flowers lay between them ; he raised it, 
 and she thought to herself how strange a coincidence it 
 was that she should see him with her favorite blossoms ii> 
 his hand. 
 
 " I was a boy of eleven when I went away," he said, 
 "and now I am twenty-five. I have never seen hotn 
 since then, and I regret it " 
 
 "Why? "she asked. 
 
 " Because there is no training like that of an English 
 boy. I was just getting fond of cricket, and beginning to 
 think about hunting and shooting ; I was a good skater, 
 and understood something about the gloves ! " 
 
 "Do you know," put in Sir Arthur, "that the ring- 
 fences of our estates meet and touch in what they call the 
 Thorn Meadow ? " 
 
 " I remember hearing that when I was at home. The 
 Brent woods, from which this place takes its name, ex- 
 tend almost to Glen. I knew every corner both of house 
 grounds when I was a boy. "
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. Icx) 
 
 w I hope you will come as often now as you did then, " 
 Sir Arthur, and the young baronet bowed. 
 
 " You are very kind, " he said ;. " I shall be only too 
 glad to avail myself of your goodness. ' Coming home ' 
 is a very melancholy event for me, as you perhaps know." 
 
 " Yes ; we have heard the cause of your mother's de- 
 parture from England and a very painful one it was, Sir 
 Basil," said the general. 
 
 Leah looked up at him ; all her soul shone in her eyes. 
 
 " Let us help you to forget the shadow which has fall- 
 en over your house and your life," she said ; and his face 
 brightened. 
 
 " I shall be only too happy, Miss Hatton. I dreaded 
 my return. I remembered the Glen as one of the loveliest 
 of homes. I have longed to be here. Yet the memory of 
 that night will never leave me." His whole face changed. 
 "My mother lived fifteen years after the accident happen- 
 ed ; but the shock her system had received killed her at 
 last." 
 
 Leah's dark eyes, full of interest and sympathy, filled 
 with tears ; and, as he saw them, his heart warmed to her. 
 HOT long it was since any one had shed tears for this old 
 sorrow of his ! 
 
 " It must have been a terrible shock for you both, 15 
 said Leah. 
 
 " Yes ; I was only a boy, but I worshipped my sister. 
 You cannot tell how deeply attached I was to her. I 
 think the love of a sister is one of the greatest joys of 
 earth." 
 
 Why did the fair face near him grow so pale ? Why 
 did the graceful figure shrink and tremble, the hand that 
 held the scarlet flowers suddenly fall nerveless and help- 
 less ? Was it another coincidence that he should value so 
 highly a sister's love ? 
 
 "For years afterward," he continued, "I often
 
 1*0 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 with that terrible scream of agony in my ears. If ever \ 
 was inadvertently left in the dark, I saw the flying terri- 
 fied figure surrounded by flames. But I am cruel to trouble 
 you in this fashion. I must learn to forget." 
 
 " You do not trouble us," said Leah ; and she did not 
 know how much of sweetness had crept into her voice. 
 " I should think," she added, "that it would be far better 
 for you to talk about it than to brood over it silently." 
 
 "Perhaps it would," he answered gratefully. "You 
 must forgive me this once. I came here this morning 
 because I could not remain in the house. It was haunted 
 by my sister's presence." 
 
 " If I were in your place, Basil," said the general, " I 
 would have plenty of friends abc at me. Stay with us to- 
 day, and to-morrow we will drive over and see your gar- 
 dens and conservatories. We have a pleasant party, and 
 I think you will enjoy yourself." 
 
 Hs looked at Leah. 
 
 " I shall be delighted," she said, simply, a faint flush 
 dyeing her face. 
 
 " So shall I," replied Sir Basil. 
 
 And that was how the first day of Leah Hatton's 
 earthly paradise began. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 HALF an hour passed, and they were still talking under 
 <^ie veranda on the western terrace. It seemed to Leah 
 out a few minutes, and yet what a change had been 
 wrought in the time 1 Quite suddenly, and almost uncon- 
 sciously to her, the whole world had changed for her her 
 life had grown complete. But a little while before her
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. t 
 
 heart had been desolate. Despite the brilliancy with 
 which she had been surrounded, there was a sense of chill 
 and loneliness, of unrealized wishes, of vague hopes, of 
 ungratified desires a sense of the emptiness of all things. 
 It had vanished as snow before the sun, and a sweet har- 
 monious sense of the fulness of life, had taken possession 
 of her. She could have stood for ever by the passion- 
 flowers, looking at Sir Basil and listening to him ; but the 
 general remembered the duties of hospitality. 
 
 "You will stay for the day ? " he said. " One of the 
 grooms can ride over to Glen for anything you may want." 
 
 He did not know that his niece, whom the noblest and 
 wisest in the land had failed to win, was waiting with the 
 keenest anxiety to hear whether their guest would accepf 
 her uncle's invitation. 
 
 "Leah," said Sir Arthur, "perhaps Sir Basil would 
 like some refreshment after his long walk. You walked 
 from Glen, I believe ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I came through the woods," replied the young 
 baronet. ' " I envy you those woods and the river." 
 
 " If you will take my advice, Sir Basil," said the gen- 
 eral, " you will have some claret-cup. For a warm morn- 
 ing like this there is nothing like it. I will join you in a. 
 few minutes I have to see my steward. Leah, you will 
 take Sir Basil into the house. When he has had some re- 
 freshment, he will join the party on the lawn." 
 
 With a smile for his niece and a bow for his guest, Sir 
 Arthur hastened away, leaving them alone together. 
 
 It seemed to Leah as though the air throbbed ; her 
 heart beat fast, her hands trembled ; all the rest of the 
 world had fallen from her, and she stood alone with him. 
 
 " This is a beautiful old place," he said. " I like the 
 river. What fanciful lights and shades there are on it 1 " 
 
 The calm, quiet words brought her down from an 
 exalted frame of mind to commonplace life.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RTNG. 
 
 " It is indeed lovely, " she said. " Do you like boat 
 ing ? I am very fond of it. I have a pretty little boat of 
 my own, and I spend many hours upon the water. But I 
 must not forget my uncle's instructions. You must come 
 and have some refreshment. " 
 
 She replaced the trailing sprayj. rf the crimson flowers 
 which she had held all this time in her hands. She did 
 nothing in the least degree unusual, yet every little inci- 
 dent was vividly stamped on her mind. With the strange, 
 new feeling about her she walked by his side down the 
 long terrace. She took him into the drawing-room. 
 
 " Bring some light refreshments also some fruit," she 
 said to a servant ; and with her own hands she offered him 
 some delicious grapes. 
 
 She remembered every word he uttered, every glance^ 
 every movement of his ; and when he had taken what he 
 wanted she looked at him with anxious, happy eyes. 
 
 " Shall we go on to the lawn now ? " she asked. 
 
 " I am quite at your service, Miss Hatton. Have you 
 a large party at Brentwood ? " 
 
 She looked at him again, with the dreamy, vacant gaze 
 of one who has forgotten everything, then remembered 
 suddenly, and blushed as he had seen no other woman 
 blush before. The first thought that occurred to him was 
 that perhaps she had a lover among the visitors, and was 
 shy of mentioning his nanv* else why that vivid, beautiful 
 blush? It was gone njv and she was smiling as she 
 spoke. 
 
 " Not a very large party,*' she replied " the Duke and 
 Duchess of Rosedene, old friends of Sir Arthur's ; Lady 
 Maude Trevar, who is distantly related to the duchess ; 
 Colonel Farquharson, whom my uncle loves very dearly 
 because his face is bronzed and he calls luncheon ' tiffin.' " 
 
 " Old Indian friends, I suppose ? " said Sir Basil. 
 
 " Yes, they were inseparable for some years. There
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. u$ 
 
 y 
 
 are also Captain Langley and a very pretty niece of the old 
 Colonel's. That completes the list." 
 
 " It sounds like a very good list, too," he said. 
 
 She remembered how he held the door open as she 
 passed, and when the long train of pale amber was caught 
 he stooped down to free it. She remembered how they 
 passed through the grand old entrance hall, and out by the 
 side door on to the lawn. The duchess was seated in the 
 shade of the great cedar tree, with Lady Maud by her side, 
 and pretty May Luson, who was evidently ready for mis- 
 chief. Not far from them the colonel a fine, handsome, 
 elderly man, with a long, gray, drooping mustache was 
 enjoying a cigar and a newspaper. Captain Langley had 
 been reading aloud to the ladies, but had been dismissed, 
 because, as the duchess solemnly assured him, he had no 
 taste for anything but humor. 
 
 There was some little stir when Leah, with her hand- 
 some cavalier, appeared. The duchess looked up with a 
 smile. Leah led him to her first, and her grace gave him 
 a very kindly greeting all women were attracted to Sir 
 Basil the moment they saw him. 
 
 They passed on to Lady Maud Trevar a tall, hand- 
 some woman, somewhat passee, but evidently bent upon 
 making the best of herself. She received him with a mix- 
 ture of what she intended to be girlish diffidence and 
 womanly frankness ; both failing, the effect was lamentable. 
 
 Captain Langley was very pleased, and pretty May, 
 looking more like a fair rosebud than anything else, laughed 
 with delight. 
 
 'You live at Glen, Sir Basil?" slie said. " I have 
 seen a picture of Glen. There are innumerable fountains 
 and terraces." 
 
 " I hope you will honor me by coming to see its attrac- 
 tions," he responded. "The general has promised mo 
 that pleasure."
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 He was quite at home with them in a few minutes. The 
 colonel who, while he abused India, knew no pleasure 
 out of it began to discuss with him the probabilities of a 
 frontier war. Captain Langley aired his grievance which 
 was that some one most decidedly his inferior had been 
 promoted over his head and revealed that he was in a 
 state of chronic indignation about it. 
 
 In a very short space of time Lady Maud Trevar de- 
 cided that Sir Basil was worth any trouble to win. He 
 was at home with them all, and quite happy. The duchess 
 called him to her side, and began a long conversation with 
 him. She was delighted with him. and considered him 
 quite an acquisition. A rich and handsome young baronet 
 with a fine estate, he would want a wife ; and already she 
 had begun to think of those of her acquaintance who were 
 eligible for the post. She regretted that Lady Maud was 
 old VbAfMUset; her thoughts never went to Leah. 
 
 Leah had called to mind not once, but a hundred times, 
 that he was to be with them the whole day. She sat watch, 
 ing him with contented, happy eyes, with a light on her 
 beautiful face, as he went from one to another, thinking 
 there was no other like him. 
 
 During the afternoon the duchess called Leah aside. 
 
 " Leah," she said, " we must do something to entertairi 
 your young neighbor. I do not like to see his handsome 
 face shadowed by melancholy. What can we do ? " 
 
 " We will do anything that you suggest," replied Leah. 
 
 Something in her voice made the duchess look up. 
 
 " Leah, child," she said, " what have you been doing to 
 yourself ? " 
 
 " Nothing," replied Leah. 
 
 "Nothing? Nonsense !" said the duchess, energetically. 
 * I could almost believe that you had been rouging ! " 
 
 * I have done nothing of the kind," replied Leah, half
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. r ij 
 
 indignant, half amused. " Why do you say such a thing to 
 me?" 
 
 " My dear child, I perceive a change in you. A new 
 soul shines out of your eyes ; your face is transfigured ! It 
 nas struck me at times that you had a restless expression, as 
 though the world did not quite answer to your wishes. It has 
 gone now. You look as though your heart had awakened." 
 She wondered still more when she saw a crimson blush 
 cover the beautiful face. " What is it, Leah ? You have 
 always trusted me. You may say what you will, but I am 
 quite certain that there is something which would account 
 for the change in you. Why, what happy eyes you have ! 
 I never saw the golden gleam in them so plainly as I do 
 this morning." 
 
 With all her keen sagacity and worldly knowledge, it 
 was wonderful that she did not connect the coming of the 
 stranger with the change in Leah. 
 
 " Never mind," said the duchess. " You will not tell 
 me, Leah ; but I shall find it out. I know that an offer 
 of marriage rather annoys you than not, or I should 
 think you had received one this morning, and it had pleased 
 you." 
 
 " 1 would tell you if it were so, duchess," said Leah, 
 " I look happy because well, because I am happy. Have 
 you ever seen a sky so blue, the earth so fair ? Did the 
 birds ever sing as they sing this morning? Were the 
 flowers ever so sweet ? Something I do riot know what 
 it is something has occurred which seems to have brought 
 me unutterable happiness." 
 
 " It is worse even than I thought," remarked the duchess. 
 *' Come and take this chair. Let us talk prose, not poetpy, 
 and decide upon what we can do to amuse your young 
 neighbor. I like him, Leah. I shall not rest until the 
 melancholy has left his face, and I see the brightness that 
 belongs to youth shining there."
 
 n6 A #&OA'X WEDDING-RING. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE day passed, as the days always do, whether they 
 be shortened by happiness or lengthened by sorrow, but 
 Leah Hatton kept no account of the hours. All that was 
 taking place was a dream to her ; the only effort she could 
 make was to prevent other people from guessing her secret. 
 He had come the fairy prince who was to wake her from 
 her long sleep ; but the world need not know it must not 
 know it. It would think her mad this wary, keen, wise 
 old world that laughs at the sweet follies of youth. 
 
 She had surrendered her mind to a host of beautiful 
 but unreal fancies ; they had made the brightest part of 
 her life. To any other than herself they would have seemed 
 absurd ; yet she had firm faith in them. She believed in 
 this ideal lover of hers, who was looking for her in the 
 world just as she was waiting for him. She had nursed 
 herself in the belief that she would recognize him the mo- 
 ment she saw him, and it seemed to her that she had done so. 
 
 Hundreds of handsome faces had passed before her 
 eyes, but not one had touched her heart until now. When 
 she saw Sir Basil's she recognized it ; a strange, magnetic in- 
 fluence seemed to come over her ; in the depths of her heart 
 she said to herself : " I have met my fate." But now she 
 must hide her secret, lest the laughing wicked world should 
 be amused by it. She never thought of Sir Basil's part 
 in the matter, whether he shared her feelings and fancies; 
 she was too much engrossed with her own. 
 
 The day went on, and she spent almost every moment 
 of it with him a lovely day, that grew brighter and fairer 
 With every hour that passed. 
 
 That evening she stood in her dressing-room, the pvetty
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. jjj 
 
 Parisian maid looking at her in something like wonder. 
 Miss Hatton had most exquisite taste, and liked always to 
 be well dressed ; but on this evening it seemed as if it were 
 impossible to please her. Dress after dress w^s discarded ; 
 she could not choose her jewels. 
 
 " Take those diamonds away," she said, and the superb 
 suite of rubies and pearls were not pleasing to her. On 
 the toilet table, intermixed with crystal and silver and richly- 
 cut Bohemian glass, were some clusters of scarlet passion- 
 dowers. She would wear them, and not the jewels. 
 
 The Parisienne sighed. They would look very beauti- 
 ful, but they would give her an immense deal of trouble. 
 
 Leah had a fancy that she would like to be dressed af- 
 ter the fashion of her picture ; but the black velvet looked 
 to warm and heavy for this bright summer night. At last 
 she chose a dress of white shining silk, soft and fine, and 
 and with it she wore nothing but passion-flowers. They 
 crowned her dark, beautiful head, and glowed like flames 
 against her white neck ; great trailing sprays fastened vhe 
 folds of her dress. 
 
 " They look far more beautiful than jewels," said the 
 maid ; " but will they live, madam ? " 
 
 " They will live as long as I need then," answere^ 
 Leah. It seemed to her that the flowers she wore to please 
 him could never die. 
 
 " I think, madam," said the maid, as she arranged the 
 tall Pysche mirror, " if you will look now, you will be- 
 pleased." 
 
 Pleased ? She flushed crimson as she saw the reflection 
 of her own most radiant beauty. She was glad to be 
 beautiful ; she rejoiced in her own loveliness. The dark 
 waves of rippling hair with their crown of scarlet flowers, 
 the exquisite face with its fair bloom, the white graceful 
 throat and white shoulders, the perfect arms and hands, 
 the figure so replete with sweet, stately, subtle grace, gicve
 
 H8 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 her infinite delight. She was child enough to kiss her 
 warm, white arms, and to smile at the picture in her mirror. 
 
 " I wonder," she said to herself, " if he will find me 
 fair ? " 
 
 There were still some minutes before the second bell 
 would ring ; she would not go down until the flush had de- 
 parted from her cheeks and the sweet, happy expression of 
 her eyes told less, or the duchess would soon discover her 
 secret. She looked from her open window to the running 
 river, and snatches of song rose to her lips. She could 
 have fancied that even the river knew what had happened 
 to-day ; the waters laughed and flashed in the setting sun. 
 Oh ! happy day, day, to be remembered, for it stood out 
 from her life as a bright star in the dark sky ! 
 
 " The sixth of August," she said to herself ; " I shall 
 never forget the date. I have been in the world twenty- 
 two years, but I have never lived until to-day." 
 
 Then the bell rang, and she went down into the draw- 
 ing-room. More than one present drew a deep breath of 
 silent admiration. The general thought he had never seen 
 his niece look so well : and the duchess said to herself, 
 ' Something has come to the child : it is useless for her to 
 deny it." 
 
 Sir Basil, too, looked at her in wonder. He had been 
 attracted by her appearance as she stood on the terrace ; 
 but now the sense of her great loveliness came over him 
 and struck him almost dumb. He took her down to dinner, 
 wondering that he had not been more impressed before, 
 and he talked more to her than he had previously. 
 
 The dinner-party was a pleasant one. Leah was a 
 charming hostess , and a more agreeable, hospitable, en- 
 tertaining host than General Hatton it would have been 
 almost impossible to find. 
 
 When the ladies returned to the drawing-room, the 
 duchess took up a book, with some little hope of disguis-
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ug 
 
 ing the fact that she was going to sleep ; Lady Maude had 
 several secrets to talk over with pretty May Luson ; so 
 that Leah was alone. She tried to steady her thoughts, 
 but she could not they were all chaos. She tried to still 
 the throbbing of her heart ; it was impossible. The girl's 
 every nerve was strained. The long French windows were 
 wide open. She stood near one of them to see if the fresh 
 evening air would drive away the thick crowding thoughts 
 and fancies from her brain, and presently a voice near her 
 said, 
 
 " How plainly you can see the river from here, Miss 
 Hatton ! " 
 
 She raised her dark dreamy eyes to Sir Basil's. 
 
 " I often wonder," she returned, " what I should do if 
 I had to live where there was no river. I should miss it 
 so much. I look at it always the first thing in the morning 
 and the last at night. It is a friend and companion to me." 
 
 " I am of your opinion ; no landscape is perfect to me 
 without water. I have a childish love of water, from the 
 great wild tossing ocean down to the tiniest lakelet, The 
 sound of its falling or dripping or rushing, as the river 
 rushes there, is the most charming music in Nature. While 
 I was in Italy, I had a terrible fever, and for many days I 
 was quite delirious I may say mad ; and during the whole 
 time what do you think my fancy was ? " The face raised 
 to his was full of interest. " I thought I was lying by a 
 beautiful waterfall, under the shadow of great trees with 
 spreading boughs. I could hear the dripping of the water 
 and the soft splash as it fell into the rocky basin below ; 
 but, when I stretched out my hands to touch it, it was boil- 
 ing when I bent my head over the rocky basin and tried 
 to drink it with my hands, it scalded me. Was not that a 
 most uncomfortable delirium ? ' 
 
 " Yes I should imagine so : but I hardly understand 
 what delirium is like,"
 
 ,20 ^ BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " Have you ever indulged in a strong fancy," he asked 
 " so strong that you hardly knew the fancy from reality ? " 
 
 Before she had time to answer him, a flood of crimson 
 overspread her face ; and he wondered to himself why this 
 proud young beauty blushed so deeply for nothing. Even 
 had he known her fancies, he would not perhaps have un- 
 derstood them. 
 
 " Yes," she replied slowly ; " I know what a very strong 
 and vivid fancy is. It grows into a belief." 
 
 " All delirium is belief for the time," he said. 
 
 Then he made way for the duchess, who roused by the 
 entrance of a gentleman, had come toward the open windov 
 in search of fresh air. 
 
 " We shall have a beautiful moon to-night," she said, 
 looking up at the rosy sky, over which the gray shades of 
 night were beginning to steal. " I like a full, bright moon. 
 Leah, you look like a a poem, with all those passion-flowers. 
 Does she not, Sir Basil ? " 
 
 " Miss Hatton is a poem," he replied. 
 
 The words were earnestly spoken, although he meant 
 nothing by them. They made the heart of the girl by his 
 side thrill with happiness. 
 
 "People have such different tastes," continued the 
 duchess. " I do not like passion-flowers ; they always 
 seem to me mysterious and melancholy. I like the smil- 
 ing beauty of a hundred leaved rose." 
 
 " It is strange," said Sir Basil ; " but I like passion- 
 flowers better than any other flower that blooms." 
 
 Leah turned her telltale blushing face away. The duchess 
 laughed. 
 
 14 1 beg your pardon," she said ; " I cannot quite believe 
 my own ears. Would you mind repeating what you have 
 just said ? " 
 
 "I like passion-flowers better than any other flower 
 that blooms," he repeated. " I learned to love them in
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. I2 i 
 
 Italy, where they grow in wild, beautiful profusion they 
 look at their best when they cling round the old stone 
 crosses and ruined shrines one sees continually. I think 
 an old gray cross, covered with crimson passion-flowers, 
 is one of the prettiest pictures in the world." 
 
 " Ah 1" said the duchess, slowly her mind was open, 
 ing to a certain truth. " Do you remember, Leah, what 
 we said this morning about passion-flowers ? " she asked, 
 teasingly. 
 
 But Leah would not look at the duchess, and would not 
 answer her. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE general had arranged for the whole party at Brent- 
 Wood to go over to Glen in a day or two, 
 
 " I think," Sir Basil had said, " that, if I could hear the 
 sound of happy voices and laughter once more in the old 
 hall, it would ceased to be haunted." 
 
 So the kindly duchess settled that they should go and 
 do their best to be happy and bright. They were to drive 
 over in time for luncheon, spend the afternoon in looking 
 over the house and grounds, dine, and return home in the 
 cool of the evening. 
 
 Sir Basil was anxious with regard to the entertainment 
 of his guests. 
 
 " It is quite a new thing for m* to have visitors," he 
 said, to Leah. " My mother's hea. 'i was so delicate, we 
 received no friends in Italy." 
 
 " I am sure we shall all be happy," returned Leah f 
 brightly. To her it seemed as though she were going to 
 spend the day in some earthly paradise. " I long to see 
 Glen," she added " I have heard so much of it."
 
 J22 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " I wish that more pleasant memories hung over it/ 
 be said mournfully. 
 
 And she, raising her lovely face to his, said, 
 
 " We must drive the unpleasant ones away for you and 
 put other and happier in their place." 
 
 ' You will do that," he declared, warmly, " if you come 
 often." 
 
 And, althoug.. me words meant so little, her heart 
 thrilled with joy at hearing them. 
 
 She counted the hours until the day came ; and again 
 the patience of the maid was most severely tried. 
 
 Leah Hatton never looked more radiant and lovely 
 than on the day when she went to see the home of the man 
 with whom she had fallen in love. Over a dress of pale, 
 cool amber she wore rich black lace, and on her head was 
 a broad-brimmed hat with rich drooping plume a hat that 
 threw a shade on the bewitching face, joftened it, and 
 made it more charming than ever. She had no ornaments, 
 but she wore a Mardchal Neil rose at her throat. The 
 summer day itself was not more fair. 
 
 The duchess had been, she persuaded herself, the very 
 perfection of discretion. Since the little episode of the 
 passion-flower she had made no allusion to Sir Basil. She 
 was quick to see and understand. Without hearing a word 
 she knew that this girl who had been as ice and marble 
 to all lovers looked on Sir Basil with very different eyes. 
 She remembered the words she had thought so foolish, 
 yet which now seemed so true. " I shall know him when 
 I meet him," Leah had said. " I shall recognize him the 
 first moment my eyes fall on his face." She had laughed 
 at the words and at the idea, but she laughed no longer. 
 Could it be true was it possible that in Sir Basil this 
 proud, cold girl had found tne ideal she had waited for ? 
 The duchess was almost frightened. 
 
 * I will have nothing to do with it in any way," sh?
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 123 
 
 v,aid to herself. " I am not superstitious, but Leah has 
 made me afraid. Supposing that she loves this man with 
 all her heart, and that he does not love her ? No; I will 
 not hurry it on or help it by word or look." 
 
 She watched and saw enough. She noticed that, heed- 
 less of what Sir Basil thought or felt about it, Leah was 
 learning to love him with all her heart. She was a differ- 
 ent being ; the calm and repose of true happiness had come 
 to her ; there was no more restlessness. Day by day, her 
 beauty, under this new influence, grew more spiritual. Sir 
 Basil admired Miss Hatton. He thought her beautiful and 
 gifted ; he enjoyed long conversations with her ; he praised 
 her voice and her singing; he liked to tell her all his 
 thoughts and exchange ideas with her. But the duchess, 
 in her own mind, decided that as yet he was not in love 
 with Leah, although it was very probable that he soon 
 would be. *' How is it," thought her grace, " that he does 
 not find it out ? The girl's voice takes a different tone 
 when she speaks to him, and her face is transfigured. But 
 men are proverbially blind ! " 
 
 As they started on this fair morning for Glen, the 
 duchess wondered whether, on Sir Basil's seeing Leah in 
 his own home, it would occur to him that it would be an. 
 excellent thing to have her there altogether to ask her to 
 be the mistress of the place he loved so well, but from 
 which he had been exiled so long. It was a suggestive 
 situation certainly. The kindly heart of the duchess grew 
 interested in the affair. It would be a terrible thing for 
 Leah to love without being loved. " She has just one of 
 those passionate, poetical, impulsive natures that will lead 
 her to love madly, and to die if she loves in vain," she said 
 to herself. She watched the bright rapturous look on the 
 exquisite face. ^" Heaven send the girl her heart's desire I* 
 said the duchess, and her eyes filled with tears.
 
 I24 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 Sir Basil stood at the outer gate of the park to meet 
 them. 
 
 "Welcome," he said" welcome to Glen ! " 
 
 He walked by the side of the carriage which held the 
 duchess and Leah. The duchess was pleased to see that 
 he pointed out all the beauties of the place to Leah, and 
 listened with interest to her remarks. She had been am- 
 bitious for Leah once upon a time ; she had hoped to see 
 her a duchess ; she had hoped that she would make some 
 wonderful marriage. But now she felt that the best thing 
 would be for her beautiful protegee to marry for love. Sir 
 Basil would be an excellent match for her. He was wealthy ; 
 even if he were not, Leah would have so much money her- 
 self that there was no need for her to make it a considera- 
 tion in marrying. The young baronet was gifted with 
 every good quality. She might certainly, with her brilliant 
 beauty and grand prospects, have done much better ; but 
 she might also have done worse. With a girl of that kind, 
 full of romance and fancies and strange ideas, the first con- 
 sideration was her happiness. 
 
 She was startled from her thoughts by a sudden ex- 
 clamation from Leah ; her face had grown pale, as it did al- 
 ways in times of great emotion. 
 
 " Look, duchess," she cried, " what a beautiful pic- 
 ture ! " 
 
 The approach to Glen was through a magnificent avenue 
 of beech-trees ; they were not to be surpassed for size and 
 beauty in the county. The avenue was wide and well 
 kept, the grass green and smooth, and, when it terminated, 
 the full glories of Glen were to be seen. Now, with the 
 sunlight falling upon it, it was dazzling to the eyes of those 
 who" viewed it. The house itself was built of red stone, 
 with white facings, and the front of it was ornamented with 
 rich, quaint carvings. There was a terrace gay with white 
 and scarlet blossoms, a broad flight of steps, ornamented
 
 A BROKEN WEDDTNG-RING. 12 g 
 
 with huge vases and fine statues, leading to the gardens 
 below. In the gardens were several superb fountains, the 
 silvery spray of which rose high in the air and glistened in 
 the sunlight ; the flowers were of every imaginable hue. 
 The whole formed a picture so brilliant that even the 
 duchess could not refrain from a cry of delight. 
 
 " It is the most beautiful place I have ever seen," she 
 said. 
 
 " You would not think u was darkened by a tragedy," 
 observed Sir Basil. 
 
 " Nor is it," said the duchess, quickly. " Life and 
 death are everywhere side by side. You must try to for- 
 get ; think of the bright side." 
 
 Etiquette compelled Sir Basil to give the duchess his 
 arm as he led the way up the broad marble steps. She 
 looked at the statues with admiration. 
 
 " This reminds one of Italy," said Leah " fountain^ 
 flowers and marble statues." 
 
 He turned to her eagerly. 
 
 " You like it, then ? " he asked, anxiously. " I think 
 it is beautiful, and I am pleased that you agree with me." 
 
 They passed into the entrance-hall, with its deep 
 groined roof, its old-fashioned stained-glass windows and 
 armor, its stained oak flooring and exotics. 
 
 With graceful courtesy Sir Basil bade them welcome ; 
 and Leah, looking at his face, saw that it was deadly pale. 
 
 " Was this the place," she asked, " where the acci- 
 dent " 
 
 " Yes," he replied ; " it was here that my poor sister 
 rushed, enveloped in flames ; and just here where these 
 white lilies stand, she fell down to die. By my mother's 
 orders they are kept there. Whenever I pass, I seem to 
 Bee the flying figure again, and hear my sister's cry." 
 
 Leah stepped forward and stood by the white lilies.
 
 12 g A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " Look at me," she said, flushing slightly, " as I stand 
 here ; it will fill your mind with fresh thoughts." 
 
 "It may well do so," thought the duchess, as she 
 noticed the unconscious grace and beauty of the girl's atti- 
 tude. Would he ever, as he passed through the hall 
 where his fair young sister had met so sad a fate, forget the 
 girl now standing there with her pleading passionate face, 
 trying to make sweet what had been so bitter to him ? 
 
 " Thank you," he replied, simply. " You have been 
 kind to me, Miss Hatton, from the first happy moment I 
 saw you ; you add to your goodness by giving me a pleasant 
 memory." 
 
 Leah's face showed her delight ; it was indeed pleasant 
 to her to hear such words of commendation from him. But 
 the duchess said to herself, " Pretty little scene senti- 
 mental enough ; but there is no love, Sir Basil, on your 
 side." 
 
 Then the other visitors reached the hall. There was a 
 discussion as to the roof and the armor, and as to the date 
 of a fine old window, and then they passed on to the 
 library. Sir Basil made a charming and hospitable host. 
 As the day wore on, Leah was pleased to see that his face 
 brightened, and that several times it lost the melancholy 
 expression that had seemed like a cloud over it. He was 
 very attentive to her ; he lingered by her side, and showed 
 her the chief objects of attraction. 
 
 The duchess summed up the whole situation briefly. 
 Leah had loved him at first sight ; but, if ever he learned 
 to love her, it would be after months of friendship. 
 
 That day spent at Glen was one of the happiest in Leah's 
 life, and the memory of it was to her like a strain of sweet 
 music in which there was no discord.
 
 A BROKEN* WEDDING-RING. 137 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 As the days passed on, the intimacy between Leah and 
 the baronet increased. The general grew warmly attached 
 to Sir Basil. He said what was a great thing for him to 
 say that, if Heaven had blessed him with a son, he should 
 have liked him to resemble Sir Basil. All the visitors 
 and they were many admired and liked him ; he was a 
 general favorite, and he spent far more of his time at 
 Brentwood than at Glen. 
 
 With every day that dawned, with every sun that rose 
 and set, with every bright moon that waxed and waned, 
 Leah's love deepened. The world was as nothing to her; 
 she became absorbed in this one passion it was her life, 
 her all. There are some to whom this fatal gift of a great 
 love is given. They are the happiest, even as they are 
 the most miserable ; they reach the highest bliss that life 
 offers, and they know the most bitter of its pains. No one 
 warned Leah. The duchess looked on interested, as she 
 would have been in any trial of skill or any struggle for 
 mastership. She did not interfere either by word or look. 
 She knew it was useless. She never ceased wondering 
 how it was that Leah, who had refused some of the best 
 offers in England, had given her heart and soul at first 
 sight to this man. 
 
 Leah was hardly the same girl in Sir Basil's presence ; 
 her face, her voice, her manner changed completely ; her 
 love transfigured her. If he touched her dress in passing, 
 the trembled ; if he touched her hand in greeting, she 
 grew pale as the petal of a white lily ; wi;en she sung to 
 him, all the pent-up passion of her soul seemed to go out 
 to him. Such a world of love lay in the dark eyes I It would 
 Lave been a thousand times better for Leah bad she never 
 6
 
 12 8 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 had such a pretty theory as that of souls meeting, or filled 
 her mind with ideal notions. No misgivings came to her, 
 no doubt, or fear. She never asked herself whether her 
 great love would be returned, she never asked herself how 
 it would end ; she lived entirely in the present, each day 
 full of happiness, of interest, of the beauty and glory 
 of the passion that possessed her. She had forgotten that 
 they would soon leave Brentwood, she had forgotten that 
 they were going to Dene Abbey ; she had forgotten every- 
 thing, except that Sir Basil was near her and that she loved 
 him. Every dream, every wish of her life was realized ; 
 there was no more to desire. She would have been quite 
 content to lie down in the light of her great love and die. 
 It seemed to her that all her life had been ordered for this. 
 Now she had reached the haven of rest, never thinking 
 that the storms in the haven might be greater than those 
 on the open sea. 
 
 It happens so often that a great love is lavished in vain. 
 Sir Basil saw nothing of Leah's. He admired her exceed- 
 ingly, but he never dreamed of loving her. He would 
 have done anything for her ; he had the kindly affection 
 of a brother for her ; ever since she had stood by the white 
 lilies in the hall, in the spot where his fair young sister had 
 died, she had to him in some measure taken that dead 
 sister's place. He confided everything to her, told her, of 
 all his affairs, sought her advice, was happy in her society, 
 never rested long away from her, thought of her with con- 
 tinual kindly affection ; but of love he never dreamed. 
 
 The duchess, who had said to herself that she would 
 not interfere, did just this one thing she told Sir Basil of 
 the splendid triumphs that Leah had achieved, and how she 
 had passed through three such seasons as few even of the 
 most brilliant beauties had ever experienced. She told 
 of the offers of marriage made to her, and how she had re- 
 fused them all
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 129 
 
 * Why did she refuse them ? " he asked. 
 
 The duchess meant to do a kindly action when she ans- 
 wered : 
 
 " She has ideas that are peculiar for the nineteenth 
 century ; they are, I may say, obsolete." 
 
 He looked anxiously at her, she thought. 
 
 " What ideas," he asked " if my question may be ans- 
 wered?" 
 
 " I am sure i may answer it," said the duchess. " Miss 
 Hatton has romantic ideas that are quite out of date. 
 Marriage, in these days, is an arrangement. She might 
 have been Countess of Barberry if she had liked ; but she 
 is romantic, and will never marry until she can marry for 
 love." 
 
 " That seems to me right," said Sir Basil. 
 
 " I am glad you think so," returned the duchess, dryly. 
 tl But Miss Hatton has another theory. It is this that 
 for every person in this world there are one love and one 
 lover half souls, she calls them, if you can understand the 
 terms. She believes that she will recognize her half soul 
 or lover whenever she sees him." 
 
 " It is a very pretty theory," said Sir Basil. " I do not 
 see why any one should object to it." He looked at her 
 somewhat eagerly as he asked : " And has she met this 
 ideal yet ? " 
 
 " That is a question she alone can answer. You must 
 ask her yourself," laughed the duchess ; and she smiled 
 to herself as she thought she had given him a very plain 
 hint. 
 
 The young baronet was far too modest to take it ; that 
 euch a peerless beauty, such a wealthy heiress, should fall 
 in love with and find her ideal in him never occurred to 
 him. If she had rejected many noble and great men, she 
 was doubtless looking for some one higher. Yet what he 
 had heard increased his affection and respect for her. He
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 liked the idea of a girl who could make to herself an i 
 and wait patiently until she met with it. How many would 
 have yielded to the temptation of rank and wealth, and 
 have forgotten the belief and aspirations of early girl- 
 hood! 
 
 ** ***** 
 
 i 
 "We have been here at Brentwood a month next \ 
 
 Wednesday," said the duchess to Leah, one morning. 
 " We go to Dene Abbey next week." 
 
 Leah looked up at her with eyes that did not see. 
 
 " Next week ! " she repeated ; and it seemed to her 
 that the sunlight faded. Next week she would see Sir 
 Basil no more. " I had forgotten it," she said slowly. 
 
 " That is not very complimentary to me, Leah, nor to the 
 admirers who will come 'o Dene to meet you." 
 
 " I do not want any admirers, duchess," she said. 
 
 " No," laughed the duchess ; " better one true lover 
 than a host of admirers." 
 
 Leah walked to the open window, and looked out upon 
 the terrace where she had stood on the morning on which Sir 
 Basil had first come to Brentwood. The passion-flowers 
 were still in bloom. She remembered the sudden revela- 
 tion that had come to her when she had locked into his 
 face. Was there to be an end now of all the light and 
 brightness that had surrounded her since ? 
 
 The duchess looked anxiously at her. Leah's face was 
 deadly pale in the glowing sunlight. 
 
 " The girl's heart is sick," thought the kindly woman, 
 " and in all the wide world no one knows the secret but me. 
 What can I do for her ? " 
 
 Suddenly her face brightened. She rose from her seat 
 and went over to Leah. The pale face was half hidden by 
 the climbing roses that came in at the window. 
 
 *' I having been thinking, Leah," she said, " that it seems 
 a pity to break up this pleasant party here. I like Lady
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ,3, 
 
 Maude, and pretty May is a very sweet girl. I do not 
 care about the military element, but I shall ask Lady 
 Maude and May to go with us. That will be very pleas- 
 ant ; will it not ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Leah, coldly. The pain at her heart 
 was so bitter, so keen that it was with difficulty she ans- 
 wered at all. 
 
 " And I have been thinking/' continued the duchess, 
 " that, as Sir Basil and your uncle seem so warmly attached 
 to each other, it would be a great pity to part them, above 
 all just now, when Sir Basil is evidently recovering health 
 and spirits. The duke likes him very much, and I thought 
 of asking him to go to Dene with us. lie will find plenty 
 shooting and fishing there. We are sure to have some 
 pleasant shooting-parties in September." 
 
 Was it a dazzling burst of sunlight that brightened 
 Leah's fair face and laughed in her expressive eyes ? She 
 turned with a quick, graceful gesture, and stooping, kissed 
 the white jeweled hands of the kindly woman who had read 
 so well her heart's desire. She spoke no word, and the 
 duchess did not notice her emotion. 
 
 " What do you think of it, Leah ? " she asked, when 
 she perceived that the sudden thrill of pleasure had passed, 
 
 " I think," she replied, slowly, " that he will be very 
 pleased." 
 
 " Do you ? " said the duchess, trying to speak care- 
 lessly, while her heart ached for the girl,. " Then I will 
 ask him to-day." 
 
 She saw that the kindest thing she could do was to leave 
 Leah alone. The girl trembled, and the hands that sought 
 the crimson roses shook. 
 
 " I have some letters to write, Leah," said the duchess. 
 *' I think I will finish them before luncheon." 
 
 Leah did not even hear her. The duchess raised he* 
 hands and eyes as MI~ weut away.
 
 , 32 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " I thought I was in love when I was a girl," she said ; 
 " but that was child's play to this. I have always said a 
 great love is a terrible thing, and so it is." 
 
 She would have been more sure of it still had she seen 
 Leah when she knew herself to be alone. She bowed her 
 head, while tears fell like raindrops upon the crimson 
 roses ; and from the girl's trembling lips came the mur- 
 mured words of a prayer. She thanked Heaven. Heaven 
 had sent Sir Basil ; and now he was not to be taken out 
 of her life suddenly, but they were to be together the whoie 
 of the happy bright autumn. And, for the time, self-sacri- 
 ficing Hettie, of whom Leah had heard nothing since 
 they parted, was forgotten in this new happiness. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE Duke and Duchess of Rosedene, with their visitors, 
 were at Dene Abbey, within sight and sound of the ever" 
 murmuring sea. Miss Hatton had the whole day to her 
 self ; she had no great household to manage as at Brent 
 wood, she had no care about the entertainment of visitors ; 
 the long, bright hours were hers, to spend as she would. 
 
 Lady Maude Trevar had gladly accepted the duchess' 
 invitation ; but pretty May Luson had promised to pay 4 
 visit elsewhere, and could not break her engagement. Thd 
 military element had dispersed. Sir Basil Carlton had 
 been delighted with her grace's proposal to join the party 
 at the Abbey. He liked the duchess ; her kindly gracious 
 manner pleased him ; he was touched by her great kind- 
 ness to himself, although he did not know the cause. Ke 
 did not go with the party from Brentwood, but he followed 
 them in a few days. It was a wonderful change from the
 
 THE BROKEN- WEDDING-RING. 
 
 33 
 
 green, sweet woodlands of Warwickshi r ", to the country 
 bordering on a sunny southern sea. 
 
 Dene Abbey was a very old house, one that hundreds 
 of years before had belonged to an ancient order of friars. 
 Bluff King Harry took possession of it, and gave it to 
 one of his favorite courtiers. In course of time it came 
 into the hands of the Rosedene family, who valued highly 
 the grand old mansion and magnificent estate. The duch- 
 ess always insisted upon spending a few months there every 
 year. Modern rooms and modern luxuries had been added 
 to the old mansion, but it still retained enough of its an- 
 tiquity to be one of the show places of England. 
 
 From the windows, from the terraces, from the grassy 
 knolls in the park from every part, the sea was visible. 
 
 Dene lay in Sussex, near the little town of Southwood, 
 which was a favorite watering-place. When calm, the water 
 of the Channel lay like a fair mirror in the distance. When 
 it was rough, the foam and the dashing spray seemed al- 
 most to envelop the Abbey. 
 
 There had been nothing wanting in the poetry of Leah's 
 love-story ; but if anything could deepen the romance of 
 it, it was certainly the presence of the beautiful, restless, 
 heaving sea. 
 
 The duchess had but one notion of pleasing her guests 
 at Dene, and it was to give them perfect liberty. Some 
 liked the woods, some the yellow sands, some the ever- 
 changing sea. They went where they liked and did as 
 they liked, which was the great charm of the place. 
 
 So Sir Basil, who liked the sea, and Leah, whose pas- 
 sionate soul delighted in it, were often on the beach to- 
 gether. They enjoyed the firm, yellow sands, the danc- 
 ing, crested waves, the tall white cliffs covered with 
 luxuriant vegetation, the briny odor of the sea-breeze, the 
 pretty shells and pebbles on the beach, the seaweed which 
 drifted with the waters. They spent long hours together
 
 134 
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 listening to the music of the waves and talking of the 
 beauty that lay around. And during this time, while the 
 sea-guUs whirled in the air, while the southern wind kissed 
 the waves, the heart of the girl who loved Sir Basil be- 
 came so entirely his, her life so wholly wrapped in his, 
 that death would have been easier than to see him pass 
 out of it. 
 
 The duchess remarked it, and mourned over it, bur did 
 not interfere it was too late. But she said to herself 
 over and over again that it was ten thousand pities Leah 
 had so much icmance in her nature ; she would have been 
 so much happier had she been more like ordinary girls. 
 
 The evenings at Dene were delightful. The drawing- 
 room was an immense apartment, containing five large 
 windows. From tnem one stepped on to a smooth, green 
 lawn ; and from the lawn a short path led through the 
 woods to the cliffs and the sea. When the moon shone on 
 the white cliffs and the shifting water, the effect was daz- 
 zling. Then the duchess liked tne lamps to be lowered 
 and the windows all thrown open, when the wind, laden 
 with sweet odors from land and sea, came in. 
 
 One evening the moon shone unwontedly bright; in 
 the distance the sea looked like molten silver it was a 
 night to fill all hearts with an undefined sense of passion- 
 ate longing. 
 
 " Let us have some music," said the duchess, as she 
 leaned back in her chair. " Leah, let us hear you sing." 
 
 Then from out of the soft shadows appeared Leah's 
 tall graceful figure enveloped in sweeping folds of black 
 lace. She went quietly to the piano. The white, slender 
 hands moved gently over the keys ; the beautiful face grew 
 fairer as the passionate words fell from her lips. She sang? 
 
 My heart is like a singing bird 
 
 Whose nesl is in a watered shoot; 
 My heart is like an apple tree 
 
 Whose boughs are beet with -.hick-set fruit \
 
 4 BROKEN WEDDING-RIHG* 135 
 
 My heart is like a rainbow shell 
 
 That paddles in a halcyon sea ; 
 If y heart is gladder than all thes^ 
 
 Because my love is come to inc. 
 
 * ' Raise me a dais of silk akd down; 
 
 Hang it with hair and purple dyes; 
 Carve it in doves and pomegranates 
 
 And peacocks with a hundred eyes; 
 Work it in gold and silver grasses, 
 
 In leaves and silver fleur-de-lys, 
 Because the birthday of my life 
 
 Is come my love is come to me." 
 
 She did not heed who was in the room. The words 
 sprung as it were from her heart to her lips. She was 
 thinking just at that time mor. of her love than of her 
 lover this golden-winged love that had taken her captive 
 and stolen her heart. 
 
 Sir Basil came quietly to her side. 
 
 "Those are quaint lines, Miss Hatton," he said. 
 " Whose are they ? " There was no music on the piano, 
 and it struck him suddenly that both words and notes were 
 impromptu. " I believe," he added, impulsively, " that 
 they are your own." 
 
 The white fingers wandered over the keys. She made 
 no answer ; she was wondering whether he had guessed 
 her secret at last. 
 
 " My love is come to me " the words startled her 
 when she came to think of their truth. 
 
 Sir Basil left the piano and went back to his chair, 
 which was placed outside the long French windows. He 
 thought more of Leah than he had ever thought before. 
 He remembered all that the duchess had told him of her 
 fanciful idea that she would be able to recognize her ideal 
 lover the moment she saw him ; and now she sung that he 
 had come. Was it really so ? He looked round on the 
 men sitting apart in little groups ; there was not one he 
 considered worthy of her. He never thought of himself.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 Each time that night that his eyes fell on her fair face the 
 words came back to him : " My love is come to me." 
 
 She was more shy and timid with him after that. She 
 avoided him a little, but loved him just as much. She 
 would have gone through fire and water for him ; she would 
 have made any sacrifice for him. The marvel was that the 
 young baronet never dreamed of the conquest he had 
 made. As for Leah, she had not yet begun to doubt ; she 
 felt certain that his love would be hers in the fulness of 
 time. 
 
 A little incident happened shortly after this which 
 changed the current of their lives and hurried on events. 
 
 Sir Arthur Hatton was a stranger to all fair love-dreams 
 and sweet fancies. Lady Bourgoyne had married him 
 without giving him any trouble ; his comfortable affection 
 for her had never caused him a pang. That he should 
 understand a nature or a love like Leah's was not to be 
 expected ; but he was one day the unwilling witness of a 
 little scene that opened his eyes. 
 
 In the library stood a large Japanese screen, and Sir. 
 Arthur enjoyed nothing more than placing this round one 
 of the great bay-windows and intrenching himself therein 
 with his newspaper. Every one knew his whim and smiled 
 at it. People went into the library to search for books, 
 read the newspapers, and write their letters, without pay- 
 ing the least attention to him. It was the only room in 
 the house where he was free from the lively chatter and 
 laughter of the girls, or the gossip of the older women. 
 
 One morning there was some Indian news in the Times 
 which interested him greatly letters written by fellow- 
 officers whose opinions he valued highly. He wished to 
 be undisturbed, so he betook himself to his favorite retreat. 
 He found the library cool and empty ; the sun-blinds were 
 all drawn, the light was dim and pleasant. He placed the 
 screen round his favorite \viiidow. " Thank goodne&s," he
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. j-jy 
 
 said to himself, " that I shall now be able to read in 
 peace ! " 
 
 Sir Arthur had hardly settled himself comfortably, how- 
 ever, before the duchess came in. 
 
 She looked over the screen. 
 
 " I shall not disturb you, general," she said. " A man 
 deep in his morning newspaper is to me as formidable as 
 a lion in his lair. Indian news, I believe ? " 
 
 " And very bad news," answered Sir Arthur, briefly. 
 
 The duchess read for about half an hour, and then 
 went away. 
 
 Presently Lady Maude Trevar entered, and, sitting 
 down, wrote letter after letter without a single thought as 
 to whether any one was in the room. She was not in the 
 least surprised when the general, in turning his newspaper, 
 betrayed his presence. Then came his Grace of Rose- 
 dene. 
 
 " I do not like the Indian news this morning," he said. 
 " If Government is not more on the alert, we shall have 
 another terrible rising, I fear." 
 
 " Most likely," answered Sir Arthur, briefly again. 
 
 The duke went on in his usual amiable manner, making 
 very mild and pointless comments, which elicited but 
 monosyllabic replies. 
 
 " I see you are busy," said his grace. " We will dis- 
 cuss the question more fully after dinner." 
 
 Sir Arthur groaned as his friend went out. "Now 
 surely I shall remain uninterrupted," he thought. 
 
 Fate was against him this morning ; for the fourth time 
 the door opened. It was Leah who now appeared. She 
 was in her favorite colors of amber and white, with creamy 
 roses at her throat. She did not observe the screen, much 
 less wonder if any one were behind it. She knew it was 
 a favorite recess of her uncle's, but she v as not thinking 
 of him. He recognized the gentk. footstep, but her pres
 
 j^g A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 cncc did not disturb him he loved her too well, and he 
 was accustomed to it ; he did not think it necessary to tell 
 her he was there. 
 
 For ten minutes there was almost complete silence. 
 He could hear the sound of Leah's pen. She was writing 
 rapidly. Then suddenly the door opened, and Sir Arthur's 
 smothered groan was lost in the voice of the speaker. 
 
 " Shall I disturb you Miss Hatton ? " It was Sir Basil 
 who put the question. * I am in trouble, from which a 
 lady alone can release me." 
 
 " I am glad you sought me," she said. And for the 
 first time the general was struck with something peculiar 
 in the tone of her voice as she answered him. " What can 
 I do for you ? " she asked. 
 
 "There is an old proverb which says that ' a stitch in 
 time saves nine.' Will you make that first stitch now, and 
 save the nine hereafter, Miss Hatton ? " 
 
 " Of course I will," she replied. " Where is the stitch 
 needed ? " 
 
 " In this driving-glove," he replied ; " the button is 
 nearly off. Would you be so kind as to fasten it i ' 
 
 Leah laughed blithely. 
 
 " Certainly," she said, as she took the thick yellow 
 driving-glove that he held out to her. "Will you excuse 
 me one minute while I find needle and thread?" she 
 added. 
 
 She went away, leaving Sir Basil looking over an open 
 volume that lay upon the table. 
 
 " I hope," thought the general to himself, " that this 
 good fellow will not find me out and begin to air his ideas 
 on Indian politics to me." 
 
 But Sir Basil was in happy ignorance of the general's 
 proximity. He read a few lines in the open volume, 
 hummed a favorite air to himself, and then Leah returned
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 139 
 
 " I am sorry to have kept you waiting,' she said. " 1 
 Vnll release you now in a few minutes." 
 
 The slender fingers soon accomplished their task. She 
 held out the glove to him, and as she did so, her eyes fell 
 on the spray of stephanotis that he wore in his coat. 
 
 " Your flower is faded," she said ; " Let me give you 
 another. I have a superstition that it is unlucky to wear 
 faded flowers." 
 
 " By all means replace it, if you will be good enough," 
 he responded. 
 
 She took the spray of stephanotis from him, and laid it 
 upon the table. From one of the vases she chose a beau- 
 tiful moss-rosebud, fresh as the dawn, and fastened it in 
 his coat for him. 
 
 He thanked her briefly, stood talking to her for some 
 few minutes, and then went away. 
 
 Sir Arthur, looking over the screen, was about to thank 
 Heaven that he was gone ; but no word came from his 
 Jips he was stricken dumb. 
 
 What was she doing his proud, beautiful niece whose 
 love no man had been able to win, whose smiles had been 
 sought as a priceless boon ? She had never seemed to 
 care for love or admiration, for lovers or marriage. She 
 had moved through the brilliant world like an ice-maiden. 
 What was she doing ? 
 
 She had taken the withered flower in her hands, and 
 was kneeling down by the table and covering the faded 
 spray with kisses and tears. 
 
 " Oh, my love," she sighed, " my love, if you only 
 loved me ! But I am less to you than the withered flower 
 you have thrown away." 
 
 The general would have spoken then and have let Leah 
 know that he had overheard her, but surprise and wonder 
 kept him silent. He saw her kiss the open volume where 
 Sir Basil's hand had rested.
 
 140 
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 M I shall die," she sobbed, " just as this flower has 
 died, and just as far from his heart ! Oh, cruel world 1 I 
 have asked but for one thing and it has been denied me. 
 I wish I had never been born. Oh, my love, why can you 
 not love me ? I am fair enough for others, why not fof 
 you ? I can win other hearts, why not yours ? I would 
 give my life for your love ! " 
 
 The low smothered sound of her bitter sobbing mingled 
 with the song of the birds and the whisper of the wind ; it 
 smote the heart of the old soldier with unutterable pain. 
 He had rescued her from what he thought a shameful life, 
 adopted her, and given her his love and protection ; he 
 had made her heiress cf his vast fortune ; and this was all 
 that had come of it, this was the end of all his hopes for 
 her. She was wearing her heart and her life away for a 
 love that could never be hers, or at least that was not hers. 
 From the sight of the kneeling figure, the clasped hands, 
 the proud head so despairingly bent, the general turned 
 with tears in his eyes. 
 
 "If I could but die," she said to herself, "and be at 
 rest ; if I could but sleep and never wake ; if I could but 
 hide my love, and sorrow and pain ! " 
 
 He was tempted to go to her, to take her in his arms 
 and try to comf "t her, but a sense of delicacy forbade 
 him. She was so proud and sensitive, what would she 
 think or feel if &ne knew that he had possession of her 
 secret ? Yet the bitter long-drawn sobs fell on his ear and 
 tortured him. He could not help her, He would not for 
 the wo*-'d let her know that he had overheard her ; so he 
 laid d^ i his newspaper and passed noiselessly out through 
 the open window on to the lawn, and not until he had 
 walked some little distance did he feel at ease. 
 
 " I would not have her guess that I have been a witness 
 of that scene for treble my fortune, poor child ! " he mur 
 mured.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 141 
 
 This was her fate brilliant, beautiful, worshipped and 
 wretched. This was the love he had never appreciated, 
 never even understood. How strong, and deep and ter- 
 rible it must be thus to torment one on whom the brightest 
 gifts of earth had been lavished. He forgot the Indian 
 news all that had interested and puzzled him. So this 
 was Leah's secret she loved Sir Basil, and he did not 
 love her ! 
 
 " Poor child, poor child ! K muttered the general. 
 " How distressed she was ! No wonder she loves him ; he 
 is the finest young fellow I have ever met. Any woman 
 might love him. The wonder is why he does not love her. 
 Perhaps," thought the simple old soldier, " he is like me. 
 I did not understand such things until they were pointed 
 out to me. I should never have proposed to dear Lady 
 Bourgoyne if Major Wrattle had not told me that she loved 
 the very ground I stood upon. After that it was plain 
 sailing. It may be the same with Sir Basil. Something 
 must be done. It is a sad thing when girls lose their 
 mothers ; it is only women who understand each other. If 
 Doris were here, she would know what to do." 
 
 His heart was heavy. He had meant this girl's lot to 
 be so fair, and she was so unhappy. He grew nervous at 
 the thought of meeting her again ; but to his surprise, 
 when he saw her at the luncheon table, there were no 
 traces of sorrow on her beautiful face. She looked colder 
 and prouder than usual, but there was no sign of love- 
 sickness about her. 
 
 " Who can understand women ? " said Sir Arthur, ap- 
 pealing to some invisible power, They were beyond him 
 altogether.
 
 A BROKEN' WEDDING-RM(t> 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE general was greatly perplexed and quite at a losi 
 to do. At first he thought he would consult the 
 duchess, who appeared to him to be a compendium of all 
 worldly knowledge, but he soon dismissed that idea. It 
 would be a betrayaJ of a secret that he had discovered 
 himself only by chance. During the next few days he 
 watched Leah covertly, and now that he had the key, he 
 understood the enigma of her conduct better. He saw 
 how completely engrossed she was in her love that she 
 seemed to have no thought, no interest, no care outside it. 
 It would be in every respect a most eligible match, thought 
 the general. The two estates would become one, and Sir 
 Basil would make a name for himself. They were both 
 young, handsome, gifted. What a pity that Sir Basil did 
 not fall in love with the girl who was so devoted to him ! 
 
 Leah came down one morning looking pale and tired ; 
 she had not slept during the night, and the dark eyes were 
 .languid and shaded. Sir Arthur grew alarmed and anxious 
 about her. He wanted to take her out for a drive, but 
 she declined going. She admitted that she was not well. 
 He proposed that he should take her into the woods, or for 
 a walk down to the sea ; but the sun was hot she would 
 not venture. The general was greatly disturbed. 
 
 The duchess found him wandering uneasily up and 
 down the terrace. 
 
 "You are looking very grave this morning, Sir Arthur," 
 she said. " May I venture to ask what occupies youi 
 thoughts ? " 
 
 " I am thinking about subjects that I do v*t u tha 
 least understand," he answered. " It seems to me
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ,43 
 
 even after so many years' experience, I know but little of 
 life. Tell me, duchess you understand matters do girls 
 ever really suffer and die from love ? " 
 
 The duchess started. Had he, too, found out the 
 secret that she had discovered ? 
 
 " Yes," she answered, " I think they do sometimes die 
 of love. Not often ; there are exceptional cases, as there 
 are exceptional natures." 
 
 His face cleared a little. 
 
 " It is not the kind of thing you would expect from a 
 sensible girl ? " he interrogated. 
 
 " No," replied the duchess ; " it is the last thing that 
 would happen to a sensible girl." 
 
 He gave a great sigh of relief. 
 
 " And yet you think there are girls who would really 
 die if they were what is called * crossed in love ? ' ' 
 
 " Yes," said the duchess, " I do think so. If a girl is 
 full of romance and poetry, and throws her heart and soul 
 into her love, the consequences are likely to be serious if 
 matters do not progress smoothly." 
 
 There was little comfort to be gained from this for 
 Leah, he knew, was visionary and romantic. 
 
 " It seems to me," he said gently, " that such love 
 causes more pain than pleasure." 
 
 " I think it does," agreed the duchess. 
 
 Then she went away. She would say no more ; it did 
 not seem to her either fair or honorable that they should 
 discuss the secret which both had discovered. 
 
 The general became more and more anxious. He was 
 thinking always of his niece ; he watched her face intently. 
 If it was unclouded, if her eyes were bright and the red 
 liips smiling, he was happy ; but if she looked sad he was 
 miserable. He had not known until now how dearly he 
 ioved her. He had thought money and position all-power* 
 t ul ; but they were not so. All his wealth could not buy
 
 J44 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 for his niece that which she desired could not give her 
 love and happiness. It was late in life for him to make 
 this unpleasant discovery. What could he do for her ? 
 Sir Basil liked her ; he was quite sure of that. He seemed 
 happy always when he was with her ; he sought her society 
 frequently why should he not love her ? 
 
 It struck him suddenly one morning that, if Sir Basil 
 only knew how matters stood, he might, in all probability 
 would, ask Leah to marry him. 
 
 " I spoke to Lady Bourgoyne at once," he said to him- 
 self, " when the major told me that she would never be a 
 happy woman unless I married her. The chances are 
 that in the same circumstances Sir Basil would follow my 
 example." 
 
 He determined that, as he was Leah's guardian, uncle, 
 and adopted father, he was the right person to give this 
 delicate hint. 
 
 A favorable opportunity occurred a few days afterward. 
 He overtook Sir Basil, who was strolling on the beach 
 alone, smoking a cigar. The general reddened all over 
 his honest bronzed face when he thought of the great in- 
 terest at stake, and how much depended on the result of vhe 
 conversation. 
 
 They first discussed the weather and matters of genera! 
 interest. Then Sir Arthur began cautiously to feel his 
 way. He always thought afterward that this conversation 
 had been a masterpiece of diplomacy. He commenced to 
 talk about Glen and its surroundings. 
 
 " You will want a mistress for that beautiful home of 
 yours some day, Sir Basil," he said. 
 
 The young baronet laughed 
 
 " I suppose so," he said. 
 
 " Have you begun to think of looking out, or settling 
 down, or whatever it is called ! " asked the general. 
 
 " No ; I have not had time. I am in no hurry ; I
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 145 
 
 should like to make some position for myself before I 
 think of marriage," said the young baronet. 
 
 " Quite right," cried the general, hastily. He must not 
 show his hand too soon. " Arn you ambitious ! " he ask- 
 ed, suddenly. 
 
 " Yes," was the frank reply. " For my part, I do not 
 believe in hereditary position ; I believe that every man 
 should carve out a name and fame for himself. I, for in- 
 stance, would far rather be known as Basil Carlton, states- 
 man, or skilful soldier, or able writer, than merely as Sir 
 Basil Carlton, of Glen." 
 
 ' I hope to Heaven," said the general, " that you are 
 not a radical I " and his thoughts flew back to Martio 
 Ray. 
 
 " No, I am not a radical ; but I think there are many 
 fine and noble men in England to be found among the 
 radicals." 
 
 u That may be," acknowledged Sir Arthur. " Politics," 
 he continued, " are a fair game, at which every man can 
 play. I respect the convictions of every honest man ; but 
 I loathe and detest men who trade upon others, make 
 tools of them, and foster rebellion and murder." 
 
 " That is not radicalism," said Sir Basil, calmly. 
 
 But it was not politics that the general wished to discuss*. 
 
 " I suppose you would like to go into parliament, Sir 
 Basil," he remarked. 
 
 " I have often thought of it," he said ; " and I shall 
 most certainly try for it. That is my ideal life to serve 
 my country in some way during part of the year, and to 
 live on my estate during the remainder. One of my 
 greatest ambitions is to have a model estate." 
 
 " A very noble ambition, too," remarked the general 
 " I approve of that. And you do not think of marrying 
 yet ? But you will want a wife to do the honors for you, it 
 you carry out your plans."
 
 I 4 g A BROKEN WEDDING-RIRG. 
 
 " I had better make my mark first," he said 
 
 The general looked at him keenly. 
 
 " You are not one of those who despise marriage, or 
 think it of little consequence ? " he queried. 
 
 " No far from it. I think it is the one step in life 
 that makes or mars a man ; his happiness or misery most 
 certainly depends upon it ; therefore, I hope to look before 
 I leap." 
 
 " Quite right," said the general ; " you could not do 
 better. Men have such different tastes. Now, what is 
 your idea of a wife ? " 
 
 Sir Basil laughed. 
 
 " I do not know that I have formed one yet." 
 
 The general looked relieved. If his heart was yet 
 untouched, why could he not learn to love Leah ? 
 
 " I should like to know," he said, thoughtfully, " what 
 you would expect in a wife. What are the qualifications 
 you deem necessary in a woman who would aspire to that 
 position ? " 
 
 " I have never thought about it ; I suppose my ideas 
 are not different from other people's," answered Sir Basil, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Would you marry for beauty, money, or position ? " 
 
 " No ; I should marry for love," said Sir Basil. " I 
 should never marry for beauty, though I should like the 
 woman I love to have a fair face of her own. I do not 
 care for money I have quite enough ; but I shall not be 
 ill-pleased if my wife has some fortune." 
 
 " His ideas are sensible," thought the general to himself. 
 " I am sure that, if I had thought of marriage at all, it 
 would have been much in the same way." Aloud he said, 
 ' I should like to ask you one more question, and I beg 
 that you will not think me curious," 
 
 " 1 know your true friendship for me," said Sir Basil,
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 147 
 
 * and I feel that nothing you might ask me would be 
 prompted by idle curiosity." 
 
 " I should like to know," pursued the general, " if you 
 have passed through the fever called love ? " 
 
 " No, I have not," said Sir Basil, " I am heart-whole 
 and fancy-free. I may add that I thank Heaven for it." 
 
 " So do I," thought the general. He was silent for 
 some minutes, not quite seeing his way to the next question. 
 
 " If the story of the marriages of one generation could 
 be written, it would be a wonderful volume," said Sir 
 Arthur, musingly. " Some men are led into marriage. I 
 was ; and my marriage proved a happy one. I had never 
 given a thought to it until some one told me that a certain 
 lady favored me very much. I found it was true, and we 
 were very happy." 
 
 Sir P-'sil was surprised to see that the general looked 
 flushed and perplexed He was a little amused, too, at 
 his choice of such a subject for discussion. He wondered 
 if Sir Arthur had any thoughts of marrying again. 
 
 " There are some very knotty points about this same 
 love-making," continued the general. " I do not think, 
 taking it as it is conducted now, that the ladies have a fair 
 chance." 
 
 " Why not ? " asked Sir Basil. 
 
 " The advantages are mainly on the side of the man," 
 said the general. " If a man sees a girl and likes her, he 
 has but to tell her so ; she can say 'Yes, or * No,' as she 
 pleases." 
 
 " Certainly," chimed in Sir Basil. 
 
 " Reverse the question. If a young girl sees a man 
 and likes him ever so much, she cannot say so." 
 
 *' It is certainly not the custom of English girls ! " 
 laughed Sir Basil. 
 
 " Do you think it fair to the weaker sex that they 
 should be obliged to conceal their sentiments ? "
 
 ,48 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " 1 must confess I should not like to see the custom 
 reversed," replied the baronet. " Besides, there is a view 
 of the matter which does not seem to have struck you, Sir 
 Arthur. Women are more clever than men ; they have a 
 thousand quick instincts that we do not possess ; and I 
 fancy that, if any girl gave her heart unsolicited, there are 
 many ways in which, without losing either her dignity or 
 her modesty, she could let it be known." 
 
 The general looked hopeless, helpless. This view of 
 the subject had not occurred to him. 
 
 " I mean," continued Sir Basil, " that, without saying 
 one word, by her face and manner any woman could make 
 a man understand that she liked him." 
 
 " If that be the case," thought the general to himself, 
 " why has not Leah done so ? " 
 
 Then he remembered that she was too proud and cold ; 
 she would die rather than stoop to that. But he must save 
 her. Even the duchess admitted that at times an unhappy 
 love proved fatal. 
 
 *' I should like to know your opinion, Sir Basil," he said. 
 " Should you think less of a girl if she had a great affec- 
 tion for a man who had shown no signs of any for her ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," he replied. 
 
 " I will put a case to ycu," said the general, warming 
 now to his work. " Suppose that a lady, young and 
 beautiful, all that is most gracious and graceful, meets a 
 man and likes him so well that her liking grows into love 
 for him, and that love takes such complete possession of 
 her that not only her happiness but her life is endangered ; 
 would you think it prudent or discreet if some of her 
 friends, some one who loved her, told him of it ? " 
 
 " I should think it the kindest thing to do," said Sir 
 Basil, carelessly. 
 
 " You would approve of such a line of conduct ? " said 
 f>ii Arthur.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 149 
 
 " If the man so loved were "uite free, I could see no 
 Objection to it," said Sir Basil. 
 
 " Thank Heaven I hear you say so !" cried the general. 
 
 " Why, what has it to do with me ? " asked Sir Basil. 
 
 " I I know some one," stammered the general " some 
 one who cares for you in that way, whose life is wrapped 
 up, so to speak, in yours." 
 
 " In mine ! " cried Sir Basil. " You must be mistaken, 
 general." 
 
 " I am not, indeed. Think of all the people you know, 
 and see if you cannot find some clue." 
 
 " I am sure I cannot," said Sir Basil, quickly. " I 
 have not mixed much in ladies' society, and of those I know 
 I cannot imagine one caring much for me." 
 
 " Yet there is one," declared the general, slowly. 
 " What the noonday sun is to the flowers, you are to her. 
 She loves you as I believe very few women have the power 
 of loving." 
 
 " How do you know ? " cried Sir Basil, in astonishment. 
 
 " I found it out by accident. I would have given a 
 great deal not to have known it. I have never been happy 
 since." 
 
 Sir Basil grew pale and agitated. 
 
 " How strange that you should know that ! Are you 
 quite sure ? Is there no mistake ? " 
 
 " None. I could almost say I wish there were. I 
 assure you that I have been most unnappy ever since I 
 made the discovery ; I have not known what to do. I hon- 
 estly believe that in time the girl will die if her love remains 
 unrequited. It seemed to me that in keeping her secret I 
 was almost helping to kill her ; in telling it Heaven only 
 knows what other harm I may do ! If I did not believe it 
 to be a case of life and death, I would not stir in the mat- 
 ter, Even now, far as I have gone, unless you wish it, I 
 will not mention the name. 1 '
 
 jgO A BROKEN WEDD1NG-RTNG. 
 
 " I do not know what to say," declared Sir Basil, deeply 
 agitated. That any one loved him so deeply touched 
 him. 
 
 " Think over it," continued the general. " You are 
 heart-whole and fancy-free ; why not make this girl happy ? 
 If you loved any one else, it would be a different matter ; 
 but you do not." 
 
 " No, I do not," said Sir Basil, slowly. 
 
 And then for some minutes there was silence between 
 them. It was the expression on the general's face that 
 made Sir Basil speak at last. 
 
 "Tell me who it is," he said, abruptly; "I should 
 prefer to know." 
 
 " Heaven grant that I am doing right ! " said the 
 general. " I would give my life for her, because I love 
 her so ; but, if I do her any injury while seeking only to 
 do her good, I shall never forgive myself." 
 
 " Tell me," said Sir Basil. " I I dare not guess." 
 
 " Yes, I will tell you," replied the elder man, solemnly. 
 " Heaven grant that I am acting wisely ! It is my niece 
 and adopted daughter who loves you." 
 
 " Your niece ? Miss Hatton i " cried Sir Basil. " You 
 cannot surely mean it. Why, the duchess told me that 
 she had had more offers of marriage than any woman in 
 England ! " 
 
 " So she has," said the general. 
 
 " And you say this proud, beautiful girl loves me ? 
 It seems incredible ! " 
 
 " She loves you with all her heart," replied the general, 
 " and you are fancy-free. Let me mention this- -she is 
 true, gifted, generous ; she has some of the noblest qualities 
 of a woman ; she will be one of the wealthiest heiresses in 
 England. Think over it, Sir Basil. She would be so happy, 
 poor child, while I I cannot tell you what it would do foi 
 me I love her so dearly, and she is so unhappy "
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. xgf 
 
 " Are you quite sure that there is no mistake ? " asked 
 Sir Basil. *' Your niece could aspire to any position 
 socially speaking, I should be no match for her." 
 
 " There is only this matter for consideration," said the 
 general " she loves you. Ah, if you had seen her tears ! * 
 
 " Tears ! " repeated the baronet, in great distress 
 " You do not surely mean that she has shed tears on my ae 
 count ? You make me feel as though I had been in some 
 measure to blame." 
 
 " I should like to add this," said Sir Arthur" I should 
 like you to remember this one thing always what my 
 heart has dictated I have done for my niece ; I have told 
 you the story, and I leave it with you to act upon it as 
 you think best. We will never resume the subject ; let it be 
 buried between us for ever. I have spoken for her sake 
 against my own will." 
 
 Silently they grasped each other's hands, and parted. 
 
 " Heaven grant that I have done the right thing ! " 
 said the general to himself. " I believe men make a 
 dreadful muddle of everything of the kind ; but I hope for 
 the best" 
 
 Sir Basil's thoughts were far more tumultuous, He 
 admired Leah exceedingly ; but he had never dreamed 
 of marrying her. He had felt no tendency whatever to 
 fall in love with her. She had always seemed to him be- 
 yond his reach. He remembered all that the duchess had 
 told him of the offers of marriage she had received ; and 
 this beautiful girl, who might have been Countess of Bar- 
 berry, loved him secretly ! 
 
 It was some time before he could collect his thoughts, 
 and then a thousand memories filled his mind of looks 
 and words, the true meaning of which he had not under- 
 stood until now. How blind he had been ! He had said 
 that a man would understand even the faintest signs of a 
 woman's regard ; but bad he understood >
 
 8 (j 2 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 The beautiful, proud face rose so clearly beiore him, 
 He had not thought much of marriage ; but it appeared 
 marvellous that he had but to speak one word and she 
 would be his. He was not in love with her, but his heart 
 beat when he thought of her. He was one of the least 
 mercenary and most generous of men ; he would have 
 scorned the idea of marrying for money ; but it was not un- 
 pleasant to think of the immense wealth that would be his 
 if he wedded Leah Hatton. He could make good use of it. 
 Would any one believe that this grand, imperial creature 
 cared enough about him to shed tears ? He was still 
 young ; not only was his heart touched, but his vanity was 
 flattered ; it raised him in his own esteem that he should 
 all unconsciously have won the love of such a woman. 
 He would cultivate her society more, and, if he found the 
 general's assertions to be true, he would ask her to be his 
 wife. 
 
 As he returned to the house, calmer in mind after this 
 decision, it seemed to him a strange coincidence that he 
 should meet the duchess and Miss Hatton. The duchess 
 spoke gayly enough ; Leah's face flushed crimson, and a 
 thousand welcomes shone in her dark eyes. For no other 
 man living would her face have so changed and brightened. 
 On the previous day Sir Basil would not have noticed it ; 
 now it struck him. 
 
 *' We are going down to the beach," said the duchess. 
 u Will you accompany us, Sir Basil ? " 
 
 " With pleasure," he replied. " I have been there once 
 tills morning, and very beautiful the sea looks." 
 
 They strolled on to the yellow sands, where the waves 
 rolled in briskly and broke into sheets of white foam, and 
 sat down to watch the incoming tide. In one heart there 
 was unutterable happiness ; Leah had read something in 
 Sir Basil's face which she had never seen there before. 
 In another heart there was unutterable perplexity j for Sit
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 Basil saw that the general had not been mistaken. Read- 
 ing all that passed now by the light given by his words, 
 there was no doubt but that Leah loved him. 
 
 " They are beginning to understand each other," 
 thought the duchess, as she listened to the two voices. " It 
 is possible that it may all come right in the end." 
 
 The two hours they spent that morning on the beach 
 seemed to Leah to pass like two moments ; and her face 
 grew so beautiful in her new-found happiness that it dazed 
 Sir Basil when he looked upon it. Her sister Hettie, her 
 father, and all the horrors of her past life were 
 in the bright present. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE Duchess of Rosedene had decided to give a 
 grand fancy-ball. 
 
 " Let me design a costume for you, Miss Hatton," 
 said Sir Basil. " I once went to a fancy-ball at Naples, 
 where each lady was dressed to represent a flower. It 
 was the prettiest picture imaginable. Instead of Marie 
 Stuarts, La Vallieres, Joans of Arc, and Pompadours, we 
 had a room full of impersonations of beautiful flowers. I 
 remember the * Heartsease ' a tall girl, dark, pale, and 
 handsome, dressed in velvet of the color of a purple pansy, 
 with heartsease in her hair and all over her dress. The 
 ' White Lily' was another great success. There was a 
 wanderful variety of roses. I wish you could have seen 
 the ' Geranium' it was a most charming costume. Now 
 I have two ideas for you, Miss Hatton that you represent 
 cither the passion-flower or primrose." 
 
 " I will not represent the passion flower/' she said. " I
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 was very found of it I am now but it has strange 
 memories for me." 
 
 She could not forget that it was amid the passion-flower 
 sprays that she had first seen him. She would not wear 
 them to dance in. 
 
 " Very well," he said, " that is settled. I must sketch 
 a primrose costume for you. That will suit you best 
 the coloring is so delicate. You must have a pale prim- 
 rose-colored silk that will fall in soft folds, with fine web- 
 like lace ; you must have primroses in your hair and 
 round your neck and arms, and a garland of the flowers 
 round your waist ; and tin folds of silk and lace must be 
 fastened with bunches of primroses and green leaves." 
 
 Leah laughed lightly. She was delighted that he 
 should take an interest in her dress. He seemed to watch 
 her looks and listen to her words with keener interest. 
 His manner was changed. 
 
 " You speak with the authority of a Worth," she re- 
 plied. 
 
 " I assure you that such a costume would be most pic- 
 turesque," he said. " Wear it to please me.'* 
 
 Over her face rushed a wave of hot color. She would 
 do anything to please him. He must have read the thought 
 in the eyes that dropped before his. 
 
 " I will have the dress made just as you wish," shft 
 said quietly. 
 
 " I am sure that you will be charmed with it," he toluf 
 her " Yours is just the kind of coloring that pale primrose 
 will suit." 
 
 The shy, happy eyes looked into his, and Sir Basil 
 knew that every word the general had said was true. 
 
 The duchess was delighted with the young baronet's 
 suggestion. 
 
 " What a pretty idea ! " she said. " I am sure T shall 
 like it much better than all those stiff costumes and imita*
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 155 
 
 tions of queens and heroines. I have to thank you for a 
 very pleasing inspiration, Sir Basil.'* 
 
 Everything conspired to make the ball a success. The 
 great heat had passed ; the sea-breeze that came through 
 the woods was full of fragrance ; the moon was bright ; 
 there were flowers every where, and the trees were brilliant- 
 ly illuminated with lamps. When the guests were tired 
 with dancing or wanted to seek the fresh air, they had but 
 to cross the conservatory into the beautifully-illuminated, 
 grounds, where the lamps, the sparkling fountains, the 
 trees all silvered by the moonlight, and the picturesque 
 groups of guests made up a scene never to be forgotten. 
 
 The duchess was charmed. Leah was the belle ; she 
 never looked so beautiful. The pale, lovely hue of the 
 primrose suited her to perfection. There was about her 
 this evening a certain consciousness of her own beauty ; 
 those who looked at her noticed her flush of delight, the 
 gleam in the dark eyes, the smile on the perfect lips. The 
 general had noticed her with admiring eyes. 
 
 " If Sir Basil does not fall in love with her to-night, he 
 has neither taste nor reason, neither sense nor heart," he 
 said to himself. " What more could man desire ? Who is 
 more worthy of love than she ? " He felt happier presently, 
 lor he saw that Sir Basil was more attentive to her. 
 
 The baronet had begged her to give him the first waltz, 
 and then he asked for another. He was beginning to feel 
 the intoxication of being loved by a beautiful woman. He 
 saw the most eligible men in the room crowding round her. 
 He knew there were some present who would give any- 
 thing they possessed for the smiles, the brightness she lav- 
 ished upon him, and which were his without asking. It 
 was something worth living for, an intoxication of vanity, a 
 triumph, to know that this superb woman loved him ; he 
 had but to speak, and her whole face changed for him. 
 She loved him he said it over and over again to himself
 
 ,56 A BROKEN WEDDING-RiNG. 
 
 this woman whose smiles were so hard to win. He 
 watched her, he danced with her, falling every moment 
 more and more under the spell of her beauty and charms. 
 
 " You are tired," he said, when the dance ended and 
 she leaned on his arm ; " come out into the moonlight and 
 rest." 
 
 Ah, the beautiful world into which they went ! There 
 lay the broad expanse of sea in the far distance, the moon 
 shining on it : around them were the brightly illuminated 
 grounds. One of the principal fountains was a marble 
 Undine, an exquisitely-carved figure, whose hand, touch- 
 ing a marble basin, seeme'l to scatter the rippling sprays 
 of water. 
 
 " This is my favorite spot," said Leah. " I think this 
 Undine is the fairest work of art in Dene. Have you no- 
 ticed the elegant pose of the head, the grace of the up- 
 raised hand, as though she were bidding the waters flow ? " 
 
 They stood still for a few moments, looking at the foun 
 tain in the moonlight. The marble Undine was beautiful, 
 with its statuesque grace, its serene calm ; but the girl, 
 with her passionate, living beauty, the moonlight falling on 
 her fair face and on the rich folds of pale primrose, was 
 more beautiful still. Slowly but surely the spell of that 
 witching hour came over Sir Basil. The knowledge that 
 Leah loved him, the faint odor of the flowers, the charm 
 of the night sky and the distant sea, the dark eyes that 
 drooped beneath his gaze, the white hands that trembled 
 in his, the face bent over the dimpling water all conspired 
 to shed a glamor over him. 
 
 " This reminds me of the lovers' night in the ' Merchant 
 of Venice,' " he said. " It is just as perfect ; one can 
 think of nothing but flowers and love." 
 
 s " A happy night," she returned, gently, bending her 
 fa.ce over the glistening marble. 
 
 " How plainly I can see you there ! " he said, looking
 
 fffE BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 157 
 
 at the reflection. " Every primrose can be seen distinctly 
 in the water. Now tell me, are you not pleased with your 
 costume ? " 
 
 " If you are," she sighed. Her heart was beating fast 
 with a passion of love and pain. He could be so near her, 
 he could stand with her in that lovely spot, and yet notlv 
 ing brought his heart nearer to hers ! She did not know 
 that at that moment he cared for her more than he had 
 ever done ; for Sir Basil, as he gazed at the face reflected 
 in the water, had seen something there which had stirred 
 his heart a sad, wistful look, not at all suited to the beau- 
 tiful face ; and he knew quite well what had called it there. 
 It was love for himself. 
 
 The next minute he had clasped her hands in his, and 
 bending over her, whispered to her the words that made 
 the music of her life. 
 
 She made no answer to have saved her life she could 
 not have uttered a word ; but the light on her face was 
 answer enough to him. The happy eyes fell ; the beauti- 
 ful head, with its primrose crown, rested on the edge of 
 the marble basin. In her heart she was thanking Heaven 
 for the blessing given to her. 
 
 " Do you love me, Leah ? " he asiced.- 
 
 Ah, Heaven, the love that shone in her eyes, that radi- 
 ated from her face ! A voice of sweetest music whis- 
 pered, 
 
 ** I have loved you from the first moment I saw your 
 face. I pray Heaven that I may see it last in this world." 
 
 The words fell softly over the rippling waters, softly as 
 tfie sigh of a summer breeze ; and when they ended Sir 
 Basil kissed her, speechless with emotion. 
 
 Three days afterwards Sir Basil and Leah stood looking 
 again at the marble Undine. The sparkling waters were 
 rising now in the sunlight, and as they fell into the gieal 
 marble basin, they glistened like drops of gold.
 
 I5 8 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " I shall always love the Undine," said Leah. " The 
 duchess has promised to let me have it photographed, and 
 I shall keep the little picture where I can always see it. 
 
 Undine's lover gave to her a soul ; you gave me " 
 
 " What ?" he asked, gently, seeing that she paused. 
 " You have given me life." she said. 
 
 There was no misgiving in her mind, not the faintest 
 doubt. She believed implicily that he loved her as she 
 loved him. They were the two halves of one soul ; now 
 they were united and shared but one life, one soul between 
 them. Sure that he felt as sh did, she made no secret of 
 her love. She did not measure her words ; she disclosed 
 her whole heart to him. 
 
 She puzzled him greatly on one occasion. They had 
 wandered through the woods down to the sea. The tide 
 was rolling in ; the sun shone on the water till it looked 
 like burnished gold ; afar off gleamed the white sails of 
 many a graceful yacht. Beautiful as was this fair world, 
 love made it fairer. They sat under the shelter of the 
 cliffs ; and Leah turned from the rippling waves to look at 
 her lover's face. 
 
 " Basil," she said, " I have often wished to ask you 
 did you recognize me on the morning that you met me 
 first?" 
 
 " On the morning when you stood like a beautiful statue, 
 draped in white and gold, among the passion-flowers ? " 
 he said. " What a picture you presented, Leah 1 " 
 
 " Did you recognize me ? " she repeated. 
 
 " In what way, my darling ? " he asked. 
 
 " As I did you. I knew in one moment that the lover 
 for whom I had waited had come at last. How strange 
 that I always had that feeling ! Sometimes, when the 
 duchess talked to me, and seemed angry because I had 
 dismissed one whom she considered an eligible suitor 
 sometimes my courage failed me. She thought my ideas
 
 A BROKt-N VrEDVrtfG-RTNG: 
 
 and sentimental. Yet, you see, I was right Tell 
 me, Basil, did you recognize me ? Did you say to yourself, 
 ' That is the girl who has been made for me, the one 
 woman out of the whole wide world who is to be my wife ? * 
 Did you, Basil ? " 
 
 He was puzzled. If he had said " No," she would be 
 unhappy, and he could not bear to cloud her beautiful face ; 
 yet he could not say " Yes " without swerving from the 
 truth. 
 
 " Men have not those quick intuitions," he said. " That 
 which a woman knows, discerns by instinct, is some time 
 in piercing the denser brain and more stolid heart of a 
 man." 
 
 She looked a little disappointed. 
 
 " When did you find it out then ? " she asked, anxiously. 
 
 " Find what out, Leah ? " 
 
 " Why, that you loved me, Basil." 
 
 In spite of himself a flush rose to his face, but she took 
 that as a sign of loving emotion. 
 
 " Am I to tell you the exact hour and minute ? " he said, 
 laughingly. 
 
 " If you can," she replied. 
 
 "I cannot, Leah. I suppose, as the novelists say, 'it 
 stole upon me unawares.' " 
 
 " Basil," she whispered, " do tell me one thing. When 
 you are away from me, you know, I like to sit and think 
 over every word that you have said to me, I like to dwell 
 on all the pleasant and happy thoughts I have about you 
 Tell me, Basil, did you admire me when you first saw 
 me?" 
 
 " Indeed, I did," he replied, heartily. " I thought you 
 then, as I think you now, the fairest woman in the world." 
 
 " Did you ? I am so glad. I am well content that you 
 should think me fair. I have never cared or thought
 
 X 6o * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 about what people call my good looks ; but now I am 
 glad, since they please you." 
 
 He was very near loving her, she was so loving to him. 
 Yet even on that morning, when she opened her mind to 
 him as a flower opens its petals to the sun, even then he 
 did not catch one spark of the divine fire that men call love. 
 The time came when she counted the happy days of her 
 life, and this was one of the brightest. 
 
 The news of their engagement had been made public at 
 once. Sir Basil had gone direct to the general and told 
 him. They had not said much to each other, but the gen- 
 eral was greatly comforted. He believed that Sir Basil 
 had grown to love his niece, therefore, all was well. 
 
 The duchess was not surprised ; she had foreseen the 
 result from the first, she said. She congratulated Sir Basil 
 in such a fashion that he was prouder than ever of what 
 he had won. 
 
 " I shall always think of you," she said, "as of a most 
 remarkable man. You have won for yourself what no 
 other could win." 
 
 Later on she said to Leah, after kissing her : 
 " I am right well pleased, my dear. I suppose. Leah, 
 it is ' this or none ? ' " 
 
 " Heaven has been very good to me, and has given me 
 my heart's desire," replied the girl, as her eyes filled with 
 tears. 
 
 There was to be no hurry about the wedding. Glen 
 must be altered and improved, must be decorated and re- 
 furnished. During the spring of the coming year a gen- 
 eral election was expected, and Sir Basil would be busy 
 trying to secure a seat in Parliament. It was agreed ou 
 all sides that the marriage should not take place just yet. 
 Noi did Leah wish it to be otherwise. She was supremely 
 happy ) her life was crowned, her love was blessed. The
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 161 
 
 general and his niece remained a few weeks longer at 
 Dene Abbey, and then returned to Brentwood. 
 
 Leah took with her the photograph of the marble Un- 
 dine, but no one save Sir Basil understood why she prized 
 it. She was perfectly content ; there was no cloud in her 
 sky, she had no misgiving, no fear, Just as the glowing 
 sun absorbs all minor lights, so her passionate love 
 eclipsed all else. She wished for nothing save that Hettie 
 should know how happy she was. She would have liked 
 to tell her fair-haired, beloved sister of this love which 
 made her one of the happiest women in the world. 
 
 The general and Leah went back to Brentwood, Sir 
 Basil returned to Glen, and the months that followed were 
 full of quiet happiness. Every day brought the master of 
 Glen over to Brentwood. As the whole mansion was in 
 the hands of workmen, he often remained at the general's 
 long days together. The more Sir Arthur saw of him the 
 more he liked him ; he never wearied of sounding his 
 praises to his niece he loved him as he would have loved 
 a son of his own. 
 
 Those happy weeks bound the heart of Leah so com- 
 pletely to her lover, made her life so entirely one with his, 
 that nothing but death could have taken her from him. 
 
 When Christmas came, the snow was lying on the 
 ground. 
 
 As Leah was one day watching the whirl of the soft 
 snowflakes, her mind went back to the little house in Man- 
 chester, where she and Hettie had been so long together. 
 Suddenly she went in search of her uncle, whom she found 
 in the library. 
 
 He wondered at the emotion on her face. 
 
 " Uncle," she said, " give me permission to speak to 
 you. I would not ask it but that I am ill with suspense." 
 
 " Say what you will, my dear," responded Sir Arthur, 
 drawing the beautiful face to him and kissing it.
 
 ,6 2 A BROKEN' WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " You have forbidden me to speak on the subject," she 
 said. " I hardly like to presume upon the permission you 
 now give me, but I had a terrible drearn last night> and it 
 has troubled me so much." 
 
 " Surely you do not believe in dreams, Leah ? " laughed 
 the general. 
 
 " I do not," she replied : " but this has haunted me all 
 day. I dreamed that, although I was going to marry 
 Basil, something always parted us ; that I never could see. 
 him, though I could hear his voice ; and then, when I fol- 
 lowed it, I could not find him. If I was in his presence, 
 there was always a thick veil of crape between us, which I 
 could not tear away. I cannot tell you how nervous it has 
 made me. It seems like a foreboding that we are to part." 
 
 " Nonsense, Leah ! " laughed the general. " There 
 must be many partings in this world, but rest assured that 
 while you both live there will never be one between Sir 
 Basil and you." 
 
 She looked a little relieved, but the cloud still rested on 
 the fair face. 
 
 " I thought you would perhaps laugh, uncle, but you 
 must listen to something else that I have to say. I hav^ 
 been trying to think if there is anything on earth which 
 could part us, and I have come to the conclusion that the 
 only thing I have to fear is the announcement of the fact 
 that I am Martin Ray's daughter. He must know that." 
 
 " Certainly. I shall tell him myself," said the general. 
 " I have always intended to do so, but not yet not yet, 
 Leah. Believe me that it will make no difference. I have 
 talked a great deal with him on political matters, and his 
 opinions are not one-half so strong as mine are. You need 
 not have the least fear on that score, Leah, I assure you. 
 I shall tell him of your parentage, and he will be surprised ; 
 but you are the child of my sister as well as of Martin 
 Ray. Do not forget that. There has been no deceit.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 163 
 
 The simple fact is that in adopting you I have given you 
 my name, because I did not care to have your prospects 
 in life spoiled by associating yours with Martin Ray. Any 
 one would understand that. I know Sir Basil thoroughly. 
 He will not mind. There are some men who might object, 
 but he is not one of them." 
 
 u I shall be glad when you have told him," she said, 
 quietly. " I do not like even the shadow of a secret between 
 us. But you have taken all fear from me. I never re- 
 member to have been nervous before. I wonder of what 
 it is the sign ? " 
 
 Sir Arthur smiled as he raised the beautiful face and 
 kissed it. 
 
 **I can tell you, Leah," he replied, "it is a sign that 
 you love Sir Basil with all your heart, and that the fainte 
 fear of ever being parted from him is to you like the ove 
 shadowing of a great calamity." 
 
 " Yes," she assented, with a happy smile. " But is it 
 not better to love too much than not to love at all ? " 
 
 ** I cannot say," replied the general ; " of the love you 
 speak about, that fills your heart, I know nothing." 
 
 " Perhaps you would be quite a different man, uncle, if 
 such were not the case/' she saii, laughing in her charm- 
 ing fashion. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 CHRISTMAS passed by ; the reign of King Winter was 
 ended. Spring was come ; the odor of violets filled the 
 air, the birds began to build, and the hedges clothed them- 
 selves with green. 
 
 After sundry flying visits to the metropolis, Sir Arthur
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 decided to take up his residence in London at the end of 
 April. 
 
 " You will not mind that, Leah ? " he asked. 
 
 " No, though, if it were possible, I would rather stay 
 here at Brentwood than go to London at all." 
 
 " It would cause a revolution," said Sir Arthur. " I dare 
 not think of such a thing.' 
 
 " One thing is certain," remarked Leah " every one 
 will know of my engagement, and I shall have more time 
 to myself. I wonder when Basil will go ? " 
 
 " I think he spoke of going next week ; he will not re- 
 main at his country seat alone. He will be compelled, 
 however, to leave town every now and then, and spend a 
 few hours at Glen, to see how the work progresses." 
 
 " I shall be glad when the season is over, and we are 
 here in peace again," said Leah. 
 
 " Are you beginning to tire of gayeties, Leah ? " asked 
 Sir Arthur. 
 
 " I think it is not that, uncle," she said s gently ; " it is 
 that my heart is more at rest here." 
 
 Sir Basil was spending a few days at Brentwood before 
 the general and his niece started for London. He asked 
 Leah one morning, when she was giving orders about the 
 packing, if she could spare him five minutes ; he had 
 something very particular to say to her. 
 
 She smiled to herself at the request. How cheerfully 
 and gladly she would have given him every moment of her 
 time, if he had wanted it ! 
 
 " You look very serious, Basil," she said. 
 
 " I want to speak to you on a grave subject," he replied. 
 
 They were standing in the deep recess of a large bay- 
 window ; the odor of violets filled the room. Sir Basil 
 took from his pocket a small morocco ring-case. 
 
 " I do not know." he said, " whether our family custom 
 will please you, Leah. I have heard that some of the
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 165 
 
 Ladies Carlton did not like the fashion ; and, if it does not 
 find favor in your eyes, I will lay the old custom aside." 
 
 " Anything will please me," she told him, " that pleases 
 you." 
 
 " Every family has, I suppose, its own traditions and 
 customs," said Sir Basil. " I can tell you the origin of 
 this custom. One of our ancestors saved his sovereign's 
 life. He was out hunting with his royal master, who was 
 wont to brag of his prowess, yet at heart was a coward. 
 The details would not interest you, but our ancestor cov- 
 ered an act of arrant cowardice of the king's, and at the 
 same time saved his life. The incident happened a few 
 days before the wedding-day of Hugh Carlton, and the 
 king insisted upon presenting the wedding-ring. It was a 
 magnificent circlet of thick pale gold, with the royal arms 
 engraved within. The then Lady Carlton wore it with 
 vast satisfaction, and was proud of it. When she lay dead 
 in her coffin it was taken from her hand. Hugh Carlton 
 did not care to bury the gift of a king ; he took the ring 
 from her finger and kept it by him. In the course of a few 
 years he married again, and he used the same wedding- 
 ring. During all the succeeding generations the same 
 thing has been done : all the heads of the house of Carlton 
 have married their wives with this ring. Two hundred 
 years since it was a thick gold circlet with superb dia- 
 monds \ r now the diamonds are all gone, and the ring has 
 grown thin by constant wear. I am not quite sure ; but I 
 think it was melted down once, and more gold added to it, 
 and then re-made. My grandmother, Lady Dorothea 
 Carlton, wore it : my dear mother wore it ; and now I offer 
 it to you, my love. It shall be just as you like, Leah ; if 
 you would prefer a new one, I will get one if you would 
 like to wear the same that so many Ladies Carle ton have 
 worn, then keep it." 
 
 " What would you like me to do ? " she asked. " The
 
 ,66 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 tradition is of your house, not of mine. Is there any 
 legend about the wedding-ring ? " 
 
 " Yes, this that whoever wears it lives long and hap- 
 pily. If you ask me what I should like you best to do, I 
 say most certainly let it be your wedding-ring. Let me 
 see, Leah, if it will fit you." 
 
 He took it from the little case, and she looked at it 
 with some reverence. So this was the king's gift, and this 
 was the famous Carlton wedding-ring! On how many 
 slender girlish hands had it been placed ? From how 
 many dead white fingers had it been taken ? There was 
 something almost weird and uncanny about it." 
 
 " My mother had a beautiful little hand," he said, " but 
 the legend did not hold good in her case ; her life was not 
 a long or a happy one. My father died when she was quite 
 young, and the terrible tragedy of my sister's death came 
 soon after. She had a troubled life." 
 
 He took her hand and placed the ring upon her finger. 
 It fitted her exactly, as though it had been made for her. 
 
 " Have those who wore this ring been happy wives, do 
 you think, Basil ? " she asked, tremblingly, looking up at 
 her lovei-. 
 
 " I hope that all wives are happy. Why should they 
 not be ? " He was thinking of something else, and hardly 
 knew what he was saying. 
 
 " I have seen many wives who were not happy. What 
 wife could be happy if her husband did not love her ? " 
 
 " But, my dearest Leah, we must presume that every 
 husband does love his wife." 
 
 " Yes, at first," she said, slowly. " No honorable man 
 would ask a woman to marry him unless he loved her." 
 
 She spoke very earnestly, her face slightly flushed, 
 holding the old-fashioned wedding-ring in her hand. Some- 
 thing in her words struck him with pain ; yet she did not 
 doubt him. He thanked heaven at that moment that she
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 167 
 
 would never know how her uncle's affection for her had 
 caused him to interfere in her behalf. 
 
 *' If this ring could speak," she said, " if it could 
 tell the history of all the wives who have worn it the hap- 
 py and the unhappy, the loved and the unloved it would 
 fill a volume, Basil. And some d-y it may be soon 
 or many years may pass first when I lie dead, it will be 
 drawn from my finger. If you, Basil, should be the one 
 to remove it, you will think of the hour when you first gave 
 it to me." 
 
 She raised her face for him to caress her, and he kissed 
 the beautiful lips. He drew her to his breast and said, 
 
 " My darling, I hope it will be many long years before 
 that time, and I hope I shall die first." 
 
 He knew how much she loved him then, for she clung 
 to him with passionate words and bitter tears. 
 
 " Ah, no ! " she cried. " If ever you offer up a prayer 
 for me, Basil, let it be that, when Heaven calls you, I may 
 gowith you. I ah me, you know, Basil, I could not live 
 without you ! I could not even try." 
 
 " Because you love me so, my Leah ?" he asked, tenderly. 
 
 " Yes, because I love you so. Do you not feel so as 
 regards myself ? If I died, could you live ? Would not 
 the world become a dreary blank to you ? Ah, Basil, I 
 am sure that if you died I should never eat, never sleep, 
 never smile again ! " 
 
 He was greatly touched by her words. 
 
 " You love me so much ? " he said again. 
 
 " Yes, I love you so dearly," she replied " you will 
 never know how dearly. There are times when I think 
 that men never appreciate or never understand the great 
 love of women." 
 
 " I will try to understand yours, Leah," he said, gently. 
 "I hope," he added, with genuine earnestness, "I shall 
 make you happy, Leah. ' x
 
 68 ^ BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 4j Happy," she repeated, as though the word surprised 
 her " happy. You love me, Basil, do you not ? " 
 
 "Yes," he replied. 
 
 " Then how can I help being happy ? I could not be 
 anything else. Many people live with divided loves; 
 they share their affections ; they have mothers, brothers. 
 I have only you. I mean that all my love is concentrated 
 on you. The other lesser loves are absorbed by it, as the 
 river absorbs the waters of its tributary brooklets. Ah, 
 Basil, I shall always be so pleased that you brought this 
 wedding-ring to me ! It seems to have made it easier for 
 me to talk to you about my love." 
 
 " Has it not always been so, Leah ? " he asked. 
 
 She had half hidden her face against his breast. She 
 raised it now, bright with unutterable tenderness. 
 
 " No, not always," she replied. " Sometimes my heart 
 is quite full, and I try to tell you, but I cannot. Some- 
 times, when you are away from me, I think of all that I 
 shall say when I see you next ; a thousand thoughts come 
 to me, a thousand words that I long to speak. And then, 
 when you come, I am mute ; my fancies leave me in the 
 sweet reality of your presence. You know what Shakes- 
 peare says, Basil ? 
 
 " * Oh, sweet love, I always write to you. 
 And you and love are still my argument! 
 So all my best is dressing old words new, 
 Spending again what is already spent , 
 For, as the sun is new and old, 
 So is my love still telling what is toldl * 
 
 Are they not noble lines, Basil ? " 
 
 u Yes, very. How well you understand all this wonder- 
 ful science of love, Leah ! " 
 
 " And you ? " she said, looking up at him. " Do you 
 not understand it, too ? " 
 
 " 1 have had the sweetest teacher the world ever saw ! rt
 
 A BROKEN WED DIM-RING. 169 
 
 Cried Sir Basil. " I can understand men losing the whole 
 world for the love of one woman." 
 
 " Would you lose it, dear, for me ? " she ask*d, putting 
 her arms around his neck. 
 
 " Yes,'' he answered unthinkingly. 
 
 " I shall feel doubly married when I wear this," she 
 said, still holding the little ring in her hand. " It will not 
 only bind me to you, but to all the race of Carl tons. Let 
 me keep it, Basil, until our wedding-day." 
 
 ** Certainly," he said. " I am glad it .is in such safe, 
 sweet keeping, Leah. If you like, it can be made to look 
 just like a new ring." 
 
 " No," she replied, touching it with her lips, " I like it 
 better as your mother wore it. All the new wedding-rings 
 in the world would be nothing by the side of this." 
 
 " You must not wear it till we are married," he said ; 
 " that would be unlucky." 
 
 He watched her as, with a happy smile, she placed the 
 ring in the case and then closed it. 
 
 A few days after that they were in London ; and Leah's 
 heart beat more quickly and lightly when she thought of 
 the treasure hidden in the jewel case," 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 i*H5 season was a brilliant one. The news of Miss 
 Ka*torv's engagement was received by some with pleasure, 
 by others with annoyance. Those who had known her be 
 fore saw a wonderful change in her ; the restless expression 
 had gone from her face, and in its place reigned perfect 
 nlm. No one could look at her and not know that she 
 was happy beyond words. In time the crowd of " l fashion-
 
 tfO A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 ables " grew accustomed to seeing Sir Basil always by hef 
 side ; even her admirers accepted the situation and resign* 
 edly took the second place. 
 
 Sir Basil tried by the most assiduous attention to make 
 up for any shortcoming there might be in his love. He 
 was Leah's shadow. Every day brought her flowers, books, 
 music, presents of every kind, from one who externally 
 was the most devoted of lovers. There were times when 
 he almost believed himself to be one of the happiest men 
 living, when he was lost in wonder at the prize he had won, 
 and tried to assure himself that there was nothing left for 
 him to desire. Yet he knew that the depths of his heart 
 had never been stirred, that he was capable of a deeper, 
 far greater love than this ; his heart had never yet beaten 
 the quicker for any word of Leah's ; he had a kindly affec- 
 tion for her that was all. He would have given her the 
 love of his manhood if he could have done so ; but she had 
 failed to touch his heart. Sh would never know it. He 
 would make her happy, he CDU! crown her life, and she 
 should never suspect that he had not loved her with his 
 whole heart and of his own free will. It did not occur to 
 him that it was a dangerous thing to marry without love, 
 no matter how great the temptation might be ; he forgot 
 that few men pass through life without some touch of the 
 great fever called love ; nor did he reflect that the fever 
 might awake in his heart when it was all too late. Leah's 
 beauty delighted him, her grace and brilliancy fascinated 
 him, he rejoiced in the admiration that her loveliness ex- 
 cited, but it was not love that shone in his eyes as he gazed 
 upon her ; and she was too much engrossed in her own 
 love and happiness to notice any failure in him. 
 
 One evening, by some mischance, Sir Basil had been 
 unable to accompany Leah to the theatre, and she had 
 gone with the Duchess of Rosedene. It was *o see 
 * Pygmalion and Galatea."
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 171 
 
 By some strange fortune Hettie was in the theatre that 
 night. Martin Ray had long been ailing, and had lived 
 for the last two years in the country. He had come up to 
 town on business, and, for his own comfort's sake, he had 
 brought Hettie with him. The landlady of the house where 
 he was staying happened to have some tickets sent to her, 
 and she begged Miss Ray to accept one. Hettie, who seldom 
 had any kind of enjoyment, whose life was one monotonous 
 round of duty, was eager to avail herself of it. Martin 
 Ray raised no objection ; he would be busy that evening 
 with his companions, and she could please herself. 
 
 Hettie was delighted She had grown into a lovely 
 girl. She had not the brilliancy of Leah ; she had not 
 her fire or passion ; she lacked her spirit and daring. But 
 she was sweet and loving ; her angelic face told of an an- 
 gelic nature ; her fair, tranquil loveliness touched men's 
 hearts as does the strain of sweet music. One felt the 
 better even for looking at her ; mean thoughts died in her 
 presence. She was " in the world, but not of it ; " pa- 
 tience, self-sacrifice, resignation were written in each line 
 of her sweet face. Her golden hair had a darker sheen, 
 her eyes a deeper light than they had on the night when 
 she lost the sister who had been to her as the half of her- 
 self. She was still in the very springtide of her girlhood 
 and nothing more fair, more loving, or more true could be 
 imagined. 
 
 Her life had not been a happy one. The loss of his 
 brilliant daughter, for whom he had formed such great 
 plans, had soured and embittered Martin Ray. From the 
 moment that Hettie had drawn away from Leah, and 
 placed her arms around her father's neck, she had been 
 most devoted to him ; with angelic patience she had borne 
 with all his discontent, his grumbling, his angry denuncia* 
 tion, his sullen resentment against the whole world, his sel- 
 fish neglect of her. Sne waited upon him during the day
 
 f<72 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 and then sat up during half the night to copy papers or to 
 make extracts for him. Her patience never wearied. If 
 any one pitied or sympathized with her, she would say, with 
 her sweetest smile, " My poor father, he has had so much to 
 bear ! " She was utterly unselfish. 
 
 No words could tell how she had thought of her beautiful 
 sister how she dreamed of her, longed for her how she 
 tried to fancy what she had grown like and what she was 
 doing. Going to London made her think of Leah more 
 than ever. They had been living in a small country town, 
 for Martin Ray's health was failing. There could be no 
 hope of seeing her sister there ; but here, in London there 
 was a possibility. Hettie watched the newspapers, and soon 
 found that General Sir Arthur Hatton, with his beautiful 
 niece, lived at Harbury House. Some time, when her 
 father was out, and she had a leisure hour, she would 
 go to Harbury House ; she would pass and repass it 
 *-she would stand opposite to it. She did so, but 
 never once did she see Leah. Though both were living 
 in the great city, they were far apart as the poles. In 
 her heart all day she cried for Leah ; on her lips trembled 
 always the name of " Leah." She read in the newspapers 
 of Leah's triumph that she was one of the most admired 
 and popular queens of society. She read of Leah at court 
 with the Duchess of Rosedene, of Leah at State ball and 
 concert, of Leah at the most exclusive and recherche enter- 
 tainments in London ; and she longed with all her loving 
 heart to see her in her grandeur and magnificence, to gaze 
 once more at the beautiful face and into the dark eyes*. 
 Her own eyes grew hot with burning tears when she 
 thought of them. 
 
 The desire of her heart was unexpectedly granted. 
 She went to the theatre, little dreaming that her sister 
 would be there on that same evening in all her brilliancy 
 magnificence. Hettie and her companion were in the
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RIfiTC. 173 
 
 pit and even that seemed a great thing to the girl. The 
 landlady had apologized ; she would have liked to take 
 Miss Ray to the dress circle, but it was not possible. 
 Simple, kindly Hettie protested that the pit was the very 
 best part of the theatre it was cooler and one could see 
 the stage better ; which view of the matter largely helped 
 to comfort her companion. 
 
 While the curtain was down Hettie amused herself by 
 looking round the house. The scene was a complete 
 novelty to her. She enjoyed seeing the fair faces, the rich 
 dresses, gleaming jewels, and exquisite bouquets. After 
 a short time she noticed that the attention of many people 
 was directed towards a box on the grand tier. She won- 
 dered what was the source of attraction, and she looked 
 herself in the same direction. Her eyes brightened and 
 her beautiful features assumed an expression of wonder, 
 It could never be and yet She saw a lady dressed su- 
 perbly in satin of the color of the most delicate heliotrope, 
 with a suite of magnificent opals a handsome woman with 
 a stately graceful bearing, her face a charming combina- 
 tion of refinement and happiness. She carried a fan, the 
 handle of which blazed with jewels, and before her lay a 
 bouquet of costly flowers. With her was a younger lady, so 
 beautiful that Hettie's eyes were dazed as she looked at 
 her. She wore some soft shining material shrouded in 
 rich black lace. Her hair was fastened with diamond 
 stars. Before her lay a bouquet of scarlet passion-flowers. 
 The graceful arch of the neck, the gleaming white shoul- 
 ders, the proud carriage of the head were all Leah's." 
 
 A cry rose to Hettie's white lips, which she repressed ; 
 l*er heart beat fast, and something like a mist came before 
 her eyes. This magnificent woman, in all the splendor of 
 dress and jewels, surrounded by all that was gorgeous, was 
 Leah, her sister. Could it be possible that that beautiful 
 head had ever rested on her breast, that night after night
 
 174 A BROKEN' WEDD1NG-RIKG. 
 
 she had slept with that figure closely clasped in her arms ? 
 Was that the face that she had kissed in such an agony 
 when they parted ? She gazed at it long and earnestly. 
 Leah's face had always been to her the fairest object on 
 which the sun shone ; now it was as fair, but there was a 
 change in it. Leah's face had been restless, had always 
 worn a wistful look, as of one whose desires were not 
 granted ; now it was both calm and bright, while infinite 
 love shone in the happy eyes. That was Leah, her friend, 
 companion and sister. She thought of the pale face when 
 her sister had gone to Sir Arthur's side ; she remembered 
 the voice trembling with emotion which had said, " I asked 
 Heaven to help me, and it has sent you to deliver me from 
 this furnace of fire." This was the same Leah, but calm 
 and self-possessed. She moved her fan with a languid grace. 
 She looked more at home and at ease in the midst of her 
 splendor than she had looked in the little house at Manches- 
 ter. Hettie's heart yearned for her. She could have stretch- 
 ed out her arms to her and cried out her name ; but she had 
 promised never again to speak one word to the sister whom 
 she loved so dearly never again. Something more bit- 
 ter than death had parted them. Hettie saw no more of 
 the stage until Leah's companion rose and both disap- 
 peared ; she kept her eyes ued on the proud face of her 
 sister. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVL 
 
 FROM that evening a very fever of unhappiness seized 
 Hettie. She longed so intensely to see Leah again ; her 
 thoughts were always with her. Martin Ray began to 
 complain bitterly of his youngest child ; she was so absent,
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ij j 
 
 so inattentive it was the first time he had had to find fault 
 with her. She was always dreaming instead of working 
 thinking instead of doing. What had come over her ? Noth- 
 ing but an irrepressible longing to see again the sister whom 
 she so dearly loved. Leah in her magnificence haunted 
 her Leah with the love-light shining in her eyes. Ah ! 
 how could she be so happy when she was parted forever 
 from them ? Did she remember them in the midst of her 
 wealth and luxury ? Did she ever think of them she who 
 had once loved them so dearly ? 
 
 At last the fever of longing mastered her. She would 
 not break her promise she would not speak to her ; but 
 she must look upon her face again. For days she strug- 
 gled hard to find a few moments' leisure ; but Martin 
 seemed to know that she wanted a few hours for herself, 
 so he kept her constantly employed. At last it came, this 
 leisure hour for which she had longed. Her father went 
 out, and was not to return until after midnight. Quick as 
 thought she dressed herself. It was just eight o'clock, and 
 she would probably be in time to see Leah leave Harbury 
 House for whatever ball or party she might be attending. 
 
 Those who lived in that noble mansion little thought 
 that the fair young sister of their beautiful mistress stood 
 outside for many hours, with a wistful look on her pale 
 face, her eyes fixed on the great entrance-door. Leah had 
 left the house before she reached it ; but Hettie was re* 
 solved to wait for her return. It would have touched a 
 heart of stone to see the patient figure walking up and 
 down with tireless footsteps. 
 
 The stars began to shine ; silence fell over the great 
 city ; the distant roar of carriages grew less. She could 
 hear the measured tread of the policemen ; the soft shadows 
 of night fell around her. She knew she ought to go home ; 
 but she could not leave the spot until she had seen Leah's 
 face just once, if only for a moment.
 
 176 A BROKEN WEDDING-RTNG, 
 
 At last came the sound of wheels ; lights appeared, as 
 though by magic, in the windows of the great house. The 
 carriage drew up before the hall door and the footman de- 
 scended. Hettie drew back into the shade as a flood of 
 light fell upon the pavement. She saw the carriage door 
 flung open, the general descend first, and then Leah. 
 She saw the lovely face, more beautiful than ever, envel- 
 oped in a mass of soft white lace, Leah made some laugh- 
 ing remark as she stepped from the carriage to the ground ; 
 and Hettie saw that she carried a bouquet of scarlet flowers 
 in her hand. In another minute she had passed through 
 the wide open door. 
 
 Then Hettie came forward and touched the footman, on 
 the arm. 
 
 " I will give you," she said, " a sovereign for the flowers 
 which that lady carried in her hand. Could you get them 
 for me if I remain here ? " 
 
 The man looked at her in astonishment. 
 
 " Do you understand ? " she went on, quickly. " I will 
 give you a sovereign for the flowers that lady carried in 
 her hand." 
 
 The light from the lamp fell on her sweet, upraised 
 face, and the man was more bewildered. 
 
 " What do you want them for ? " he asked. 
 
 " Never mind," she replied " I do want them. Do 
 not waste time talking to me, but get them if you can." 
 
 " Look here," said the footman ; " that lady is our young 
 mistress, and I would not have any harm come to her." 
 
 " I mean no harm," she returned quickly. " I simply 
 want them to keep by me after they are withered and dead, 
 for love of her that is all ; but I do not wish any one to 
 know." 
 
 " Oh, if that is what you want them for, all right ! " 
 said the man. ' I will get them for you. Stand there ; I 
 vill not be a minute."
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. t jj 
 
 Leah had laid her bouquet on one of the hall-tables. 
 It was composed of scarlet passion-flowers. The man 
 took it up and went back to the door. 
 
 " Here," he said, briefly ; and the next moment Hettie 
 had exchanged her one sovereign for the faded-bouquet. 
 
 How she loved her treasures ! How she kissed them ! 
 Leah had held them in her hand, perhaps even touched 
 them with her lips. 
 
 " It is all that I shall ever have to remind me of my 
 beautiful Leah," she said to herself. * I will keep them 
 as long as I live. 
 
 She hastened home, reaching there fortunately before 
 Martin Ray's return. 
 
 In her own mind Hettie had decided to repeat her lit- 
 tle experiment. If she could see Leah once or twice in 
 each week, it would amply repsy her for any trouble. 
 
 But her pleasant anticipations were soon destroyed. 
 Martin Ray was not well pleased with his visit to London. 
 He was not treated with the respect that he considered 
 due to himself ; besides which, his health was rapidly fail- 
 ing. He did not rest until he had left the great city be- 
 hind him and was once more in his pleasant country cottage. 
 
 Leah did not know that her sister had seen her, and 
 the little incident of the flowers had never been mentioned. 
 
 It happened that an artist, travelling in the county 
 where Martin Ray and Hettie lived, had seen her, and had 
 made a very perfect sketch of her face ; this he had after- 
 ward made the subject of a picture that he sent to the Roy- 
 al Academy. It was called " The First Glimpse of Morn- 
 ing," and it was one of the finest paintings exhibited that 
 year. It represented a young girl looking from a case- 
 ment window in the early morning. The gray and rosy 
 dawn was in the eastern skies ; the trees and flowers 
 seemed to be waking from their sleep, and a few birds 
 were on the wing. The window was wreathed with lovely
 
 tyg A BROKEN 1 WEDDING-RING. 
 
 roses ; and the girl's face, framed in the green foliage and 
 crimson flowers, was something to wonder at. On it there 
 was the reverent look of one whose first thoughts in the 
 morning had been given to heaven a face so fair and 
 sweet that one felt the better for gazing upon it. The 
 golden hair and the blue eyes, the delicate bloom, the spiri- 
 tual rapt expression, made the picture famous. 
 
 Leah and Sir Basil went together to the Royal Academy 
 She was exceedingly fond of pictures. 
 
 " Have you seen * The First Glimpse of Morning,' 
 Leah ? " he asked her. " If not, come this way. There is 
 always a crowd round it. There that is my ideal face, 
 the loveliest that could be either imagined or copied." 
 
 Leah looked at it earnestly, and in her own heart she 
 thought how much it was like the face of her sister. She 
 did not know then that it was perfectly like her. 
 
 " It is a lovely face," she said slowly, wondering if Het- 
 tie, whom it so strongly resembled, had grown up as beau- 
 tiful as that. 
 
 " Do you know," said Sir Basil, " that I see in it a great 
 likeness to you ? " 
 
 " Do you ? " she questioned, her face flushing warmly. 
 
 Then, as though he had made a discovery that sur- 
 prised him, he said, 
 
 " That face, Leah, has what yours in some ways lacks 
 tenderness." 
 
 It was perfectly true ; yet the moment he had said the 
 words he repented of them, she looked so terribly pained. 
 
 ' I am sorry that my face lacks anything in your eyes," 
 she said " above all, tenderness." 
 
 " Do not misunderstand me, Leah. I do not say the 
 heart merely the lines of the face." 
 
 * " What do the lines of my face express ? " she asked. 
 
 "Courage, pride, spirit," he replied. "This face is 
 full of yielding and sweetness."
 
 ^ BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ^g 
 
 She said no more. But after they had left the Aca- 
 demy and reached home, Leah went up to her lover. He 
 was bending over a table, writing. She put her arm round 
 his neck, and her beautiful face touched his. 
 
 " Basil," she whispered, " I am not happy." 
 
 " What is the matter, Leah ? " he asked. 
 
 With her white hands she raised his head until his eyes 
 looked into her own. 
 
 " Will you promise not to laugh at me," she said, " if 
 I tell you why ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I promise, Leah," 
 
 " I am not happy because you have seen a face that 
 you like better than mine," 
 
 " Nay, Leah. I did not say that. I said that the pic- 
 tured face had what yours lacked. I did not add that I 
 liked it better." 
 
 " Do you like my face love it, I mean ? " she whis- 
 pered. 
 
 For answer he kissed the sweet lips, arid whispered 
 words such as she longed to hear. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 " LET us repeat the happy experiment of last autumn." 
 said the Duchess of Rosedene to Sir Arthur. " Come 
 with us to Dene. I do not remember ever to have enjoyed 
 anything more than your visit. I will ask Sir Basil to 
 come, and the two lovers will be happy that is, if such 
 unreasonable beings as lovers are ever happy. They seem 
 to me more of them discontented." 
 
 The duchess had keen eyes, and she had noticed the 
 shadow that lay on Sir Basil's face. It was not the shad*
 
 ,g A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 ow of discontent, or of sorrow, but of something that words 
 could not define. More than once she had wondered if he 
 were quite as happy as the successful lover of one of the most 
 beautiful girls in England should be. She knew nothing 
 of the general's interference, and had no idea that Basil's 
 declaration of love had been anything but spontaneous. 
 She decided in her own mind that they would go to Dene 
 Abbey again for the autumn, and while there the marriage 
 might be arranged for the following spring. That would 
 give the lovers a few more months of the happiest time of 
 their life, and they would learn to understand each other 
 even better than now. 
 
 Sir Arthur and Leah were quite willing; they were 
 even delighted. Leah liked the Abbey better than any 
 other place on earth, because she most implicitly believed 
 that it was there Sir Basil had learned to love her. She 
 should again see the marble Undine with its grace and 
 beauty, and the rippling waters that had sung that night of 
 love. 
 
 August found them at Dene, well and happy, without 
 the faintest knowledge of the doom that was fast drawing 
 nigh. The Abbey was built near Southwood, a pretty town 
 on the slope of a green hill, and so close to the sea that 
 when the tide rose high some of the little houses were not 
 unfrequently in danger. The little town ran up the hill 
 after a quaint fashion of its own, and the houses seemed 
 to climb with the social position of those who occupied 
 them. The fishermen and the boatmen lived at 
 the base ; but nearer to the summit stood the pretty villas 
 inhabited by the gentry picturesque little houses half 
 buried in foliage and overlooking the boundless, restless 
 
 sea. 
 
 Partly on account of its bracing air, and partly because 
 he at tiu.es had a few engagements in the neighboring 
 towns, Martin Ray had for some years made this place his
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 181 
 
 home. His health was bad, his spirit broken, his means 
 were small, his life was spoiled, saddened, blighted, his 
 heart restless and embittered. It seemed that only hatred 
 kept him alive hatred that burned in his heart more vir- 
 ulently than ever hatred of all rule, all authority. The 
 spirit and courage of his youth had left him. For four 
 years he had lived in a cottage standing alone on the slope 
 of the hill. When the tide was in, and one looked from 
 the upper windows, it seemed as though the house almost 
 hung over the sea. It was called Rosewalk, because the 
 hedges of the lane in which it stood were covered with 
 roses. Rosewalk was one of the beauties of Southwood ; 
 and here, where the murmur of waves lulled him to rest and 
 the song of the birds woke him in the early morning, Mar- 
 tin Ray made his home. 
 
 As he sat watching the crimson sunset over the waves, 
 what visions came to him ! His life h^d all gone wrong. 
 He had intended to make for himself a place in history, 
 and he had failed ; he had mistaken self-love and self-in- 
 terest for patriotism. Most of all, as he sat hour after 
 hour watching the blue sea from the rose-wreathed win- 
 dows, he brooded over the loss of his daughter, the child 
 that had voluntarily left his side and clung to a stranger. 
 He never forgot that scene. The names of his daughter 
 and of the hated stranger had never been breathed ; yet ? 
 when the crimson sun sunk into the waves and the day 
 died " in a dream of amber skies," it was of his beautiful 
 Leah he dreamed and thought, the child whom he had in- 
 tended to succeed him. 
 
 A man like Martin Ray is soon lost to memory. He 
 lives on popular agitation ; and when strength and healih 
 fail him, and he can no longer go among the peo- 
 ple with words that "fret and stir," he is soon 
 forgotten. Martin had few friends ; his name was no 
 longer a tower of strength. He learned in that beautiful
 
 l8 2 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING, 
 
 home by the sea some of the most bitter lessons. The 
 one joy of his life was his fair, sweet Hettie the child who 
 loved him with such faithful, tender love, who had devo- 
 ted her life to him since she made her choice five years 
 before. He could not have lived without her. 
 
 Hettie made the most of her education ; she gave les- 
 sons to the children of the well-to-do people who lived in 
 the neighboring villas, she sung in the fine old Norman 
 church, she made pretty little sketches of the lovely scenes 
 around them, and so earned money enough to supply her 
 father with all that he needed. It was characteristic of 
 him that he never noticed his daughter's shabby dress or 
 her worn shoes. She gave him unreservedly all she had 
 her love, her money, her time, and her attention. The 
 only break that ever came to the monotony of her life was 
 when her father, going out on business, took her with him 
 for a few days. She thought it an act of kindness on his 
 part, while he knew that without his most loving and de- 
 voted daughter he should enjoy very little comfort. She 
 had never spoken to him of what she had read and seen 
 of Leah. She knew that he perused the newspapers, but 
 no word or look from him revealed the fact that he had 
 seen her name. Hettie was compelled to preserve silence 
 on the subject, but her thoughts ever reverted to Leah. 
 So it often happened that, when father and daughter sat 
 together in the porch of the pretty cottage, watching the 
 sea in the distance, both were thinking of Leah. Martin 
 saw her still as the beautiful child with the flash of defiance 
 on her face with which she had left him. Hettie dreamed 
 of her always as she had seen her last, in the brilliancy of 
 her beauty and magnificence. Neither of them ever ima- 
 gined how near she was to them. Southwood did not pos- 
 sess a newspaper of its own, and Dene Abbey was quite 
 out of their world. The great green hill rose between them,
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 183 
 
 and separated them as though they were in different 
 hemispheres. 
 
 In Southwood no one troubled himself or herself about 
 politics. " The Voice of the People" was dumb there ; 
 the popular agitator was but little known. Most people 
 had an idea that the quiet, stern-looking occupier of Rose- 
 walk was a writer ; and they knew that he could not be 
 well off because his daughter had to support him by her 
 exertions. 
 
 This fair, gentle girl, whose whole life was spent in 
 working for others, who never had time to think of herself, 
 was greatly beloved. If ever she had a leisure hour, it 
 was spent in some deed of charity. She visited the sick and 
 the sorrowful ; from her slender-store she helped those who 
 were in greater need. When means failed her, when she 
 had neither food nor money to bestow, she gave kind 
 words full of consolation and tender in their wisdom. She 
 worked very hard, from early morn until dewy eve. She 
 rose with the sun. She had manuscripts to copy for her 
 father, lessons to arrange, a hundred things to do. If the 
 day had been twice as long, she could have filled it with 
 pleasant duties. She was beloved by all by the children 
 whom she taught, by the parents who employed her, by 
 every person with whom she had to deal. It was not only 
 her fair, angelic beauty, but her sweet temper and win- 
 some ways, that won all hearts. 
 
 These were the days of Martin Ray's decadence, 
 and he could not perhaps have chosen any spot on earth 
 where he could have been more secluded or more 
 forgotten. 
 
 It was a strange chance that brought these two sisters 
 so near together, yet placed them so far apart. The steep 
 green hill that stood between Abbey and Southwood was 
 typical of the great barrier of caste which parted them, 
 There were times when both at the same moment watched
 
 184 ^ BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 the same seas, the same skies, yet neither had the least 
 notion of the other's presence in that part of the country. 
 
 The summer had been hot and oppressive. Martin 
 Ray had suffered much, and it was some relief when the 
 cool breezes of autumn came. They heard casually that 
 Dene Abbey was filled with visitors, but that any of the 
 visitors concerned them never occurred to them. Father 
 and daughter would not have sat so quietly watching the 
 heaving waters had they known that Leah was so near 
 them. 
 
 The occupants of Dene Abbey seldom attended the 
 pretty old Norman church at Southwood, where Hettie 
 sang so sweetly and so clearly. There was a church 
 nearer to them called St. Barbauld's, which stood in the 
 centre of a little village near the sea. But Sir Basil liked 
 Southwood best. He admired the quaint old Norman 
 church, with its square tower and fine arches. Through 
 the windows one could see the tall elm-trees ; and Sir Basil 
 said that more devotional thoughts came to him there than 
 in any other place. So, one Sunday morning, when the 
 whole party went over to St. Barbauld's Sir Basil went 
 through the woods, climbed the steep hill, and descended 
 the beautiful, grassy slopes, until he reached the old Nor- 
 man church where his fate awaited him. He never forgot 
 one detail the green churchyard, the row of elm-trees 
 that seemed to shut it in from the world, the old-fashioned 
 sundial, near which tall sunflowers grew, the golden haze 
 that filled the air outside, and the deep shadows within. 
 
 The rector read the prayers, and said a few words to 
 the people simple, honest words that went home to every 
 heart and left an impression there. When the clear, ear- 
 nest voice ceased, there was a slight stir in the organ-loft, 
 and then a dead silence. 
 
 What broke it ? A clear, sweet voice, which Sir Basil 
 never forgot, singing a solo in a grand old anthem, ever?
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. jgg 
 
 word of which was distinct and audible beautiful words, 
 well matched with the fine music and the angelic voice. 
 He listened in wonder ; he had heard some of the finest 
 singers in Italy and some of the grandest music in the 
 world, but nothing like this clear, sweet, and pathetic, 
 at times sounding as though it were full of tears, and again 
 jubilant and ringing. He was not sentimental, and flat- 
 tered himself that he took a practical view of most things ; 
 but as he listened he thought to himself : 
 
 " That must be how the angels sing." 
 
 He looked up into the organ-loft from which the sound 
 came, and there he saw a picture that was photographed 
 on his brain for evermore. A tall, slender girl stood in 
 the midst of the choir, in a dress of pale blue a girl with 
 a face so fair, so rapt, so seraphic, that it awed and bewil- 
 dered him. She was singing not to the people, who lis- 
 tened with bated breath not to him, whose eyes nevei 
 moved from her face. Her head was slightly upraised, 
 her face upturned. Her thoughts had pierced the old 
 groined roof and the blue ether that lay beyond, and had 
 gone to the land where angels dwell. Her golden hair 
 made a halo round her head, and he could have thought 
 that an angel had descended from " the realms of light." 
 Then, as the perfect spiritual loveliness of the face dawned 
 upon him, he found that it was strangely familiar to him. 
 Somewhere else he had seen those lustrous blue eyes and 
 that sweet pleading mouth the same face, but with a 
 different expression. Then it dawned upon him slowly 
 that this girl had been the original of the picture. " The 
 First Glimpse of Morning," and he remembered what he 
 had said to Leah, " That face has what yours lacks ten- 
 derness." " I am destined to know her through the arts," 
 he said to himself. " She dawned upon me in painting, I 
 see her etherealized by music yet what is she to me ? " 
 
 he was nothing to him, yet during the whole of the
 
 l86 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 day that rapt spiritual face seemed always before him. 
 He would have asked who she was, but he knew no one 
 there, and when the anthem was finished she vanished. He 
 lingered in the old churchyard, where the tall elm-trees 
 cast graceful shadows on the grass, but he caught no 
 glimpse of her. He went home to Dene Abbey with the 
 clear, rich voice ringing in his ears. There was a little rivulet 
 that ran through the Dene woods ; he bent over it, and, 
 lo, the sweet face smiled at him from its clear depths ! He 
 laughed at himself. No woman's face had ever haunted 
 him before. With all its brilliant beauty, even Leah's had 
 not haunted him as this one did. 
 
 During luncheon he spoke of the music he had heard 
 at Southwood, of the clear, sweet soprano voice, so rich 
 and rare in quality. 
 
 The duke said that he had heard a young singer spoken 
 of there as having a very beautiful voice. One or two of 
 the visitors said they would like to go to Southwood Church. 
 The Duke of Rosedene declared half laughingly that there 
 was a feud between himself and the rector of Southwood 
 and that until it was healed neither himself nor the duchess 
 would leave St. Barbauld's. 
 
 Sir Basil decided that every Sunday while he remained 
 at Dene he would go and hear the beautiful voice that had 
 charmed him so greatly. " If any one could fall in love 
 with a voice, I should think that I have done so," he said 
 to himself. Some strange instinct that he did not under- 
 stand at the time kept him silent to Leah concerning both 
 the face and the voice of the fair young singer. He would 
 have told her that in her he recognized the original of the 
 painting they had admired, but that he remembered so 
 well that she had been hurt by his comparison of her own 
 and the pictured face, and he did not wish lo remind her 
 of the circumstance. 
 
 " I wonder," thought Sir Basil, later on in the day, "if
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. igf 
 
 she stands there every Sunday in that pale blue dress, the 
 light on her golden hair ? " 
 
 He was sitting by one of the open windows that even- 
 ing, haunted still by the fair face he had seen, when Leah 
 came suddenly behind him and laid one hand caressingly 
 upon his dark head. 
 
 " Basil," she said, " you have been very distrait to-day. 
 Do you know that you have not spoken fifty words to me. 
 I have been patient to bear it so long, but now you must 
 make amends for it," 
 
 Even as he looked up into her face the other fairer one 
 seemed to come between them. 
 
 " How shall I make amends," he asked, with a smile. 
 
 " You must find that out for yourself, " she replied. 
 
 He drew her to the seat by his side and whispered 
 some tender words to her. She loved him so entirely 
 that very little satisfied her. One more exacting might 
 have thought that he was not a very demonstrative lover, 
 but Leah was too much blinded by her own passion to 
 note any defect in him. That hour spent with him at the 
 open window in the autumn gloaming was one of the hap 
 piest she ever knew. 
 
 That same night, while her maid stood brushing out 
 the long dark rippling waves of hair, Leah, with a happy 
 smile, was looking at her own face in the glass. She 
 said to herself and the words came home to her after- 
 wards : "If I never have any more happiness while I live, 
 I have had enough for a lifetime." She loved him so 
 well 
 
 The week that passed before Sunday came again was 
 a long one to Sir Basil. He had not the least intention 
 of ever being, even in thought, untrue to Leah. If he had 
 dreamed that there was any danger in seeing the beauti- 
 ful singer again, he would have avoided her. He was en- 
 gaged to marry Leah Hatton how could he know that he
 
 ,88 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 was in danger " In Italy he had loved to listen to such 
 voices; here in England he never missed good music 
 when he had a chance of hearing it. What harm could 
 there be in going to Southwood Church to hear a grand 
 old anthem beautifully sung ? He did not speak to Leah 
 about it. He had one definite motive for silence, and he 
 had twenty reasons that were not quite definite. 
 
 Sunday came a beautiful day, bright, warm, full of 
 fragrance, the sky serenely blue, the green earth all smil- 
 ing and fair. Sir Basil was more silent than usual at the 
 breakfast-table, and the girl who loved him, looking at his 
 thoughtful face, wondered if he were thinking of her or of 
 the future before them. 
 
 On that bright Sunday morning no warning came to 
 Sir Basil that he had better not see the young singer 
 again. He went. She sang more sweetly than ever, and 
 looked to his enchanted eyes fairer than before. With 
 her dress* of pale blue, her fair, flower-like face and gold- 
 en hair, she reminded him of the beautiful figures he had 
 seen in the churches in Italy. He must find out \vho she 
 was ; he would much like to know what name went with 
 that face. He would like ;o speak to her ; it would be 
 pleasant to know if her voice sounded as sweet in speak- 
 ing as in singing. 
 
 This time, when the people went out of church he con- 
 trived to be among the first, and then he saw the blue 
 dress trailing over the grass ; he noticed that every move- 
 ment and action ot the giri was as full ot grace as her 
 singing was full of music. The sun was shining on the 
 tall elm-trees and the green graven where the dead slept 
 so well ; on the old Norman church, on the groups of 
 worshippers ; and something stole into his heart that had 
 never been there before a new delicious life. It thrilled 
 in his veins and beat at his heart a keen pleasure so 
 great as to be almost pain. He thought the tranquillity of
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. jg^ 
 
 the da/ had touched him ; he thought the beautiful music 
 had affected him. Something had with sudden sweet 
 swiftness changed the fair face of Nature for him. 
 
 He watched the girl who had sung of the " bright sera- 
 phim. " She had stopped first of all to speak to a group 
 of fair-haired children ; then he saw that the old men and 
 women all tried to have a few words with her ; after that 
 she disappeared, and he could not see in which direction 
 she had gone. 
 
 He found the old sexton. Sir Basil discovered in a 
 moment the way to his heart ; it was suggested by the 
 almost pathetic manner in which the man said that it was 
 a dry day. He was so completely overwhelmed when Sir 
 Basil dropped something into his hand with which to 
 make the day more comfortable that he would have 
 answered any number of questions. 
 
 " Who was the lady that sung ? " 
 
 She was Miss Ray Miss Hettie Ray, daughter of the 
 old man who lived at Rosewalk. 
 
 Where was Rosewalk ? 
 
 " It is a cottage built on the slope of the, hill round 
 there by Southwood " a vague direction, but Sir Basil 
 remembered every word of it. 
 
 Who was the old man ? 
 
 Ah, that the sexton did not know ! All that he could 
 tell was that he had heard that he was a bit of a writer in 
 the political line, that he was poor, and that his daughter 
 worked very hard. He knew little of him, because he 
 kept away from every one and shut himself up in his little 
 cottage. 
 
 " Rather a curious history," thought the young baronet. 
 " Such a father and such a daughter ! He cannot possi- 
 bly be a political writer of any note, or I should have 
 heard some one speak of him. Before long I will see fof 
 myself what Rosewalk is like. "
 
 190 
 
 4 BROKEN WEDDWG-KWV* 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 IT was a fortunate thing for many reasons that the 
 Duke of Rosedene was alone when Sir Basil met him, for 
 he led up gradually to the subject which occupied his 
 thoughts. Did the duke come more than once a year to 
 Dene ? Did he know the people at Southwood ? Was it 
 true that a political writer lived at Southwood ? 
 
 The duke shrugged his shoulders good-naturedly. 
 
 ' I really don't know," he said. " Who is he ? " 
 
 Sir Basil did not know ; he was asking for information. 
 Some one had told him that a political writer lived at 
 Southwood. 
 
 " Politics have not been much in my line lately," said 
 the duke " not for some years. I am glad they are in 
 yours. I like to see the young men of the country com- 
 ing forward ; it is a healthy sign. What about this man ? 
 What is his name ? " 
 
 " Ray," answered Sir Basil. 
 
 " Ray," repeated the duke slowly. ' Ah, yes ! I re- 
 member the name very well, but I know nothing of the 
 man. Ray ? He was a great Radical ; I believe they 
 called him ' the Voice of the People ' years ago. I have 
 heard nothing of him for a long time ; nor do I take the 
 least interest in him." 
 
 " I have been so long away from England that I am 
 often ashamed to find how ignorant I am about men and 
 things. " 
 
 " My dear Sir Basil, you have no reason whatever to 
 regret your ignorance with regard, to Ray. He was one 
 of those who lived on the people and misled them incited
 
 A BROKEN" WEDDING-RING. igt 
 
 them to riot and rebellion. He never did them any 
 good ; and if my memory serves me rightly, he was onca 
 imprisoned for treason." 
 
 " Rather a stormy career," said Sir Basil. 
 
 " He wrote one or two good things in their way," said 
 the duke, " but based on a wrong principle. The best 
 pamphlet was called ' An Appeal to the People, by One 
 who Serves Them.' It made some little sensation at the 
 lime. As you seem interested, I will make some inquiries 
 jmd tell you the result." 
 
 Sir Basil dreamed of Hettie all that night a fact 
 which he explained to himself by saying that he thought a 
 good deal about her singing. When he woke from his 
 eleep, he was murmuring to himself the name of " Hettie 
 Ray." There was a strange charm in it for him. He 
 iiked to think of her as a politician's daughter, even 
 though the father had been a notorious Radical. 
 
 " I have made inquiries about this Ray, Sir Basil," the 
 duke said a fe\v days later. " I find that he is an ill-con- 
 ditioned, miserable kind of man." 
 
 " I expected so," returned Sir Basil. 
 
 He is a dangerous dog with his teeth drawn. He is 
 old and infirm ; he will never do any more mischief in 
 this world. I hear that through ill-health and failure in 
 means ne has come to Southwood to live the remainder of 
 his days in peace." 
 
 " An aged lion," said Sir Basil. 
 
 " Exactly so. They tell me that he has a good and 
 beautiful daughter who keeps him by her own exertions ; 
 but no one seems to think much of him or take any no- 
 tice of him. If it is the same thing to you," added the 
 duke, " I would rather that you did not mention to any 
 one the fact that Ray, the once famous 'Voice of the 
 People,' lives near here." 
 
 '* Why,'' asked Sir Basil, more suddenly than politely.
 
 t 9 a A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 But the duke did not seem at all disturbed by the 
 question. 
 
 " The man is, and always lias been, mad with morbid 
 vanity and a desire for publicity. I should not like my 
 visitors to know anything about him. He would get up 
 some kind of sensation a paper war of some kind, if he . 
 had the chance. I am glad the hill shuts us off from ' 
 Southwood. I have a great dislike for men of that 
 stamp." 
 
 It was in consequence of this that Sir Basil never 
 mentioned the name of Ray in the presence of the guests 
 at Dene Abbey. He would not do anything against the 
 duke's wish ; nor had he the least desire to draw any at- 
 tention to this man. He never spoke of the music at 
 Southwood Church again ; but the less he said the more 
 deeply he thought on the subject. Upon one thing he 
 was quite determined he would 9jo and see Martin Ray. 
 He was in some measure, a public man, and he would not 
 resent the visit. He succeeded in convincing himself 
 that his intended visit had nothing whatever to do with 
 Hettie. He wanted to see a ittan who had been a popu- 
 lar celebrity. At the same time he determined to be 
 thoroughly prudent. He would not in any way com- 
 promise the duke. He need not announce his name or say 
 where he was staying. He was simply about to call upon a 
 man who had once been famous but who was now forgot- 
 ten ; and Sir Basil persuaded himself it was a kindly thing 
 to do, to pay respect to fallen greatness. 
 
 So one autumn day Sir Basil strolled over tc Rosewalk. 
 He told Leah that he was going for a long ramble ; but he 
 did not ask her to accompany him. There was in his 
 mind no direct thought that he was going sor?ewherc clan- 
 destinely. He climbed the steep hill once more, and 
 there before him lay the pretty town of Southwood. He 
 saw how it seemed to wind up the hill, beginning at the
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 193 
 
 toot with humble cottages, and ending with handsome 
 villas as it approached the summit. 
 
 He saw near the brow of the hill a pretty green lane 
 with tall hedgerows, and he decided that that must be 
 Rosewalk. In the midst stood a small cottage, half buried 
 in foliage. He did not know why his heart beat fast when 
 he saw it. A sudden fit of timidity came over him. 
 What if he should see the beautiful singer, or if, from one 
 of those flower-wreathed windows, he should hear her 
 voice ? 
 
 After walking so far his courage had failed him : he 
 passed through the lane, and did not even look at the 
 cottage he had come to see. 
 
 He felt ashamed of himself, and went back again 
 the lane was a long one. When he returned he found 
 that an elderly man was standing watching the passage of 
 a ship at sea. The scene was so beautiful that he was 
 charmed with it the blue waters, the white-sailed ship, 
 the grassy hill, the peaceful green lane, the picturesque, 
 flower-hidden cottage. The man stood looking over a low 
 ivy-hidden wall. Some instinct told him that this was 
 Martin Ray. 
 
 " This is a lovely scene, sir," Sir Basil remarked, as 
 he paused in front of the old man. 
 
 " It is well enough," he said. 
 
 And then Sir Basil was slightly disconcerted. He 
 hardly knew what next to say. He stood and looked, first 
 at the blue rippling waters, and then at the stern, worn, 
 haggard man. It was better perhaps to be frank. 
 
 " I am looking," he said quietly, " for the house of 
 Mr. Martin Ray. Can you tell me if this be it ? " 
 
 " I am Martin Ray," answered the other, briefly. 
 
 And again Sir Basil was nonplussed. 
 
 The man raised himself from his leaning attitude, and 
 looked at the handsome, dark face before him.
 
 J94 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " You wanted to see my house and me why ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 And then Sir Basil's sense of good breeding came to 
 his aid. 
 
 My reason is very simple," replied Sir Basil, raising 
 his hat. " I heard that you were living here, and I wished 
 to see one who rightly or wrongly, has been a leader 
 among the people." 
 
 " Are you of my way of thinking ? " asked Martin ab- 
 ruptly. 
 
 "No, I am not," replied Sir Basil. "You carry to 
 excess that which I believe in but little. I hold a middle 
 path between you and those whom you would call your 
 enemies. " 
 
 " A middle path, " repeated Martin. " Ah, then you 
 will not interest me ! " 
 
 " I am not sure that I wish to do so, " said Sir Basil. 
 " It was not with a view of interesting you that I desired 
 to see you. " 
 
 " I did not intend to be rude, " returned Martin Ray. 
 " I mean this my life has been a fierce fight. I know 
 but two extremes. You must forgive me I hate al) 
 mediocrity. " 
 
 " You are like an old soldier who smell? gunpowder, " 
 said Sir Basil, good-temperedly. " You would enjoy a 
 warm political argument with me ; but it is not possible. 
 I am only just beginning to understand matters. I could 
 not hold my own with you " which words delighted Mar- 
 tin. " I have not had the advantage of an English educa- 
 tion ; my youth has been spent in Italy, and politics have 
 formed no part of my training. " 
 
 " A sad pity ! An English lad should be reared in 
 England, " remarked Martin, gruffly. 
 
 " There is an exception to every rule, and every crea. 
 ture living has to bow to circumstances, " said Sir Basil,
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 195 
 
 " No man can be so arrogant as to stand up and say, ' All 
 other men should do this or that.' " 
 
 u Perhaps not," admitted Martin, more humbly. 
 
 " In a few months or a few years, " continued Sit 
 Basil, " I shall be better informed about politics than I 
 am now. I intend to read, to study, to think ; and then, 
 when I have mastered both sides of the various questions 
 I shall be able to form clear and decided views of my 
 own. " 
 
 " That is right, " said Martin. 
 
 " At present I am inclined to trust in what I should 
 call the happy medium. All my faith does not lie with 
 those who believe in the divine right of kings, nor yet 
 with those who would make a ' king's crown fair target 
 for good shot. ' I have read some of your writings. You 
 go too far ; they bristle with sedition. " 
 
 *' You are plain spoken, " said Martin Ray. 
 
 "I believe in truth and plain words, : ' replied Sir Basil. 
 " I have heard that you are out of health, and that of late 
 yen have not been fortunate. I hope it is not so. " 
 
 " It is quite true, " was the answer. Martin Ray was 
 beginning to like this handsome, frank young man who 
 was evidently interested in him. If any one had whis- 
 pered to him that this was caused by the fact that he was 
 Hettie's father, he would have scouted the idea. " My 
 health and strength have failed me, " he said ; and there 
 was a certain dignity in his pathos. " I am a dead lion ; 
 and every one knows that a live dog is better. Time was 
 when my ' roar ' struck the ears of hundreds now it is not 
 heard. I have outlived myself. I had great hopes once, 
 great ambitions. I must have been mad when I dreamed 
 that I should be the elected leader of a free people. " 
 
 " All Englishmen are free, " said Sir Basil. 
 
 "Ah," he cri?d, with sudden energy and fire, 
 **but they have cot die same freedom that I would
 
 ,g$ ^ BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 have given them! I have been mad all my 
 I believe ; but I have had dreams tof a grand nation, 
 a grand people, free from taxes and national debt free, 
 and led by me. There have been times when I have 
 seemed even to myself, by the splendor of my own dreams, 
 more than human, more than man. Now my dreams, my 
 pride, and my very life almost have come to an end. " 
 
 " I cannot quite see the sense of your argument, " said 
 Sir Basil. " If a people are to be led, what does it mat- 
 ter whether they are led by a high-souled, generous king, 
 by a noble woman like our queen, or by a man like your- 
 self, whose rule would of necessity be inferior, because 
 your education and learning must be inferior ? " 
 
 " I will answer that question another time, " replied 
 Martin Ray, with a nod of dismissal. " Come and see me 
 again. You have stirred an old pain in my heart. Good- 
 by." 
 
 And without another word Sir Basil retraced his steps 
 to Dene Abbey, thinking the whole way of the man he 
 had just left. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 On that same evening a large party was assembled at 
 Dene Abbey, and Sir Basil made a great effort to give 
 his mind to the present. He tried to forget the beautiful 
 voice he had heard and the sweet face he had seen in the 
 old gray church ; he tried to forget the stern, haggard man 
 looking with sad, wearied eyes over the waste of waters. 
 He did his best ; but the eyes of love are keen, and Leah 
 saw that he was quiet and talked less than usual. 
 
 How she loved him J HOW her whole heart shone in
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 197 
 
 her face as she went up to him ! How the love-light glis- 
 tened in her dark eyes and the sweet, sensitive lips trembled 
 with their love-sighs ! She had a pretty caressing fashion 
 of going behind him and whispering loving words that no 
 one else could hear. 
 
 " Basil, my darling," she said tremulously, " you have 
 tired yourself with that long ramble. I felt almost jealous 
 because you did not ask me to go with you. " 
 
 He wondered, in a dull, vague kind of fashion, why his 
 heart did not beat more quickly for the love this queenly, 
 beautiful woman lavished on him, for the words she whis- 
 pered in his ear, for the warm, caressing touch of her 
 white hands. Why was it ? He forced himself to talk to 
 her, and he promised to row her as far as St. Margaret's 
 Bay on the morrow. 
 
 " I will sing for you, " she said. " A new song came 
 for me this morning. It is dedicated to me; I have been 
 asked twenty times to-day to sing it ; but I resolved that 
 you should be the first to hear it. It is called * The Tryst ;' 
 the words and the accompaniment are alike beautiful. 
 Listen, and tell me what you think. " 
 
 " I will come with you, " he said. He was sitting at 
 the far end of the room, away from the piano. 
 
 " No ; I want you to stay here and listen critically, " 
 she replied, laughingly. 
 
 He did listen critically, wondering what there was ir\ 
 the rich contralto that reminded him so forcibly of the 
 clear, ringing soprano he had heard in the old gray church. 
 He heard each word distinctly. 
 
 " She glided o'er the meadow grass, 
 
 And through the young green corn ; 
 Sweet as the summer blooms she was. 
 
 And fresh as summer mom. 
 We laughed and loved beside the brook, 
 
 That sang its gay refrain ; 
 And where we met that day, my love, 
 
 We swore to meet again.
 
 ig8 * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " But ere the grast was dry and brown* 
 
 Amid the ripening corn, 
 Up to the churchyard on the down 
 
 A maiden's corpse was borne. 
 I weep alone beside the brook. 
 
 All swoll'n with autumn rain ; 
 For where we met that day, my lore, 
 
 We shall not meet again." 
 
 There was profound silence in the room when the 
 music ceased. No one spoke to Leah as she went back 
 to her place by her lover's side. 
 
 " Do you like it ? " she asked. 
 
 " How could I help it ? " he cried. " But there is some- 
 thing strangely familiar to me in your voice. I had a pe- 
 culiar, weird sensation, as though I had heard it in another 
 world." 
 
 " That is impossible," she replied, laughingly. " If I 
 had met you in another world, I should have remembered 
 it. I was jealous and pained for whole days after you 
 said that you thought another face fairer no, sweeter 
 than mine. If my voice reminds you of another's I will 
 never sing one note to you again." As she uttered the 
 words her face flushed, and the sensitive lips trembled. 
 
 He was flattered by her jealousy ; but it did not pain 
 him as it would have done had he loved her. 
 
 " Basil," she said, gently, " do you think I am very jeal- 
 ous ? " 
 
 " I do not know, Leah. I hope not. I should imagine 
 that to be jealous must cause acute pain." 
 
 She opened her beautiful dark eyes more widely than 
 ever. 
 
 " Do you not know what it is like," she said " this pain 
 of jealousy." 
 
 " No," he replied. " I do not remember thit I was 
 ever jealous in my whole life. Ah, yes, once I remember ! 
 When my sister's lover came, and I knew in my boyish
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 199 
 
 heart that he was to take her from me I was jealous 
 then. I did not eat or sleep ; I was inconsolable , and I 
 remember well that the pain was real a hot bitter sense 
 of injury and wrong. I remember, too, that for a time I 
 hated the man who was going to marry her, I have never 
 been jealous since." 
 
 " Never ? " asked Leah. 
 
 " No," Sir Basil laughed ; " I may safely say never." 
 
 *' Do you think that jealousy is a sign of love ? " asked 
 Leah, wistfully. 
 
 " I cannot tell ; I have never thought about it." he re- 
 plied. " I should almost say not." 
 
 " And I think the two must go together," said Leah. " I 
 am jealous. I think if you, Basil, were to love or praise 
 any one very much I should be miserable. I am sure that 
 if you paid much attention to any one else, or said that 
 any girl was very pretty, or looked at any one as though 
 you admired her very much, I should be jealous." 
 
 " I do not see why," he said gently. 
 
 " Ah, then, you do not understand, Basil," she rejoined. 
 " I cannot help it. I do not wish to be jealous ; I do not 
 make myself jealous ; it comes naturally. Yesterday, 
 when you were talking to Lady Grantleigh, she was laugh- 
 ing and looking up at you ; and your eyes were so bright, 
 Basil, I felt a pain as of a wound inflicted by a sharp 
 knife. I could not help it ; it came and went. Basil," 
 she whispered, bending her beautiful head, "have you 
 ever been jealous of me ? " 
 
 " No," he replied, frankly, " never, Leah." 
 
 A shade of disappointment came over her brilliant face. 
 
 " Never, Basil ? Ah, then, I am sure you do not love me 
 as much as I love you. Are you quite sure ? " 
 
 " I am sure," laughed Sir Basil. 
 
 She knitted her brows with an air of perplexity. 
 
 " I do not understand that. When you see other men
 
 aoo A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. , 
 
 around me, and hear the compliments they pay me, do you 
 never feel any jealousy ? " 
 
 " No, on the contrary, I like to see you admired." 
 
 "The other day," she continued, " when Major Staple- 
 tor followed me to the piano, and would turn over the 
 leaves of my song, looking so sentimental about it, were 
 you not jealous ? " 
 
 " No, I thought him very kind," answered Sir Basil, 
 cheerfully. 
 
 " I will try to make you jealous," she said, after a few 
 moments' thought. 
 
 He looked at her gravely. 
 
 " Never play with fire, Leah," he remarked. " We are 
 happy. What new element do you want to introduce into 
 our happiness ? " 
 
 A slight quiver passed over her face, the scarlet flowers 
 at her breast stirred, the white, jewelled hands trembled. 
 Ah ! what indeed ? Why was she not content ? 
 
 " I do not want a new element," sne said " only to 
 deepen an old one." 
 
 " What is that, Leah ? " he asked. 
 
 " I should like you to love me more," she said. " Some- 
 times it seems to me that I ask for bread, and you give 
 me a stone. It may be my fancy ; but I cannot help think- 
 ing that I love you better than you love me." 
 
 " How can you measure love ? " he asked. 
 
 " By love," she replied, quickly. " There is no other 
 way." 
 
 " You must have patience with me, Leah," he said. " I 
 am a novice in all these matters." 
 
 " You ought not to be a novice now," she replied. " I 
 wish you would tell me when you really began to love me." 
 
 There is nothing more embarrassing or irritating to a 
 man than to have his love probed by a woman when he is 
 conscious of a deficiency in his affection, Sir Basil was
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 2 O1 
 
 always at a loss how to answer Leah when she talked to 
 him in this fashion. She had asked him so many questions 
 about his love for her v and he had no answer to make, the 
 simple fact being that he had never thought of loving her 
 until Sir Arthur had placed the matter before him. 
 
 " Leah, you like to talk about love," he said, endeavor- 
 ing to turn the conversation. 
 
 " Do I ? " she questioned, gently. " It must be because 
 my heart is so full of it." 
 
 Afterwards she wondered if . . was wise or prudent to 
 let him know how dearly she loved him. Yet how could 
 she help it ? And why, as he loved her why, as she was 
 to be his wife, should she be ashamed to show her affec- 
 tion? 
 
 She left Sir Basil more than a little puzzled. If jeal. 
 ousy were part of love, then assuredly he knew not love, 
 for he knew not jealousy. And he ' ondered whether 
 Leah would ever find this out. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 SIR BASTL CARLTON was clever and ambitious. He 
 was most desirous of making up for lost time. He regretted 
 the long years spent away from England. It was true 
 that he had acquired a knowledge of art that he could 
 have gained in no other way music, painting, sculpture, 
 were household words to him ; but he regretted that he 
 had not secured the education usually given to an English 
 boy. Nothing, he fancied, could ever atone to him for the 
 loss of that. He found that in England politics occupied 
 the same place as the fine arts did in Italy. He found 
 himself looked up to when the question was one of music,
 
 203 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 of painting, or of sculpture ; but. when he essayed to discuss 
 politics, men smiled and Sir Basil was not one of those 
 who were content to be smiled at. He was determined to 
 master the questions of the day, to see what was to be 
 said on every side, to form his own opinions slowly, not 
 hurriedly, and then to give his time, attention, and in- 
 terest to whatever side he embraced. He longed to be a 
 statesman ; politics delighted him. He could not take 
 up the pen he had no faculty for literary work ; he did 
 not care to enter the army or navy, and he was not con- 
 tent to live without occupation. He was wealthy ; his es- 
 tate of Glen was a most valuable one ; and hundreds of 
 men in his place would have thought of nothing but a life 
 of indolence and pleasure. Sir Basil thought only of what 
 he could do to make his life useful ; he had no idea of 
 living at ease in a world where there was so much that re- 
 quired doing. 
 
 He resolved to study politics ; and he was well pleased 
 that chance had made him acquainted with one who in his 
 time had caused some stir in the political world. Sir Ar- 
 thur Hatton, had he lived in olden times, would have been 
 a cavalier of most perfect type ; the Duke of Rosedene 
 was a devout believer in the divine right of kings. Mar- 
 tin Ray believed in nothing expect the rights of the peo- 
 ple Vox populi^ vox Dei was his maxim ; so that Sir 
 Basil had every opportunity of hearing all sides of the 
 question. 
 
 When he started for Rosewalk the next day, he hon- 
 estly believed that he was going to see Martin Ray from 
 the most honorable and the highest motives. He might, 
 of course, see the beautiful singer again ; it was not im- 
 probable ; but he was not going for that purpose. 
 
 A second time he left the Abbey for a long ramble 
 without asking Leah to accompany him. This time she 
 noticed it, but said nothing. The wind was keen that avi
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 203 
 
 tumn afternoon. It brought a delicious freshness from the 
 ocean and the scent from the wild thyme on the hill-top. 
 
 When he reached Rosewalk, a young and beautiful 
 girl was seated near the wall overlooking the sea. What, 
 at the first sight of her, made his heart beat so fast? He 
 had to pass close by her ; but he would not look at the 
 golden hair and sweet face. He went into the quaint 
 flower-wreathed porch and rapped at the door. Then, as 
 one watches things in a dream, he saw the young girl arise 
 and walk toward him with a firm graceful step. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said. " I want to see Mr. 
 Martin Ray." 
 
 She drew back a little, and looked at him with the air 
 of one surprised. 
 
 " My father ! " she replied, " He is not at home." 
 
 The blue eyes looked into his for a moment, then they 
 fell, and a soft color like that of the fairest petal of a rose 
 covered her face ; the dark eyes looking at her were so 
 full of passionate admiration that she could not raise her 
 own to his again. 
 
 " Not at home," repeated Sir Basil. " I am sorry for 
 that. I was to see him to-day, and I have walked 
 some distance. Have I your permission to wait until he 
 returns ? " 
 
 She looked slightly confused at first ; then she felt 
 that it would be impossible to refuse. She was only too 
 pleased that her father should have a call from so pleasant 
 a visitor. 
 
 " You can wait if you wish to do so, " she replied ; 
 "but the hour of his return is quite uncertain." 
 
 " If you will allow me, I will risk it," he said. " I do 
 not think any one could find a more beautiful spot than 
 this in which to while away the time." 
 
 He sat down on the pretty rustic bench, which was so 
 placed that one could see the incoming tide. The waves
 
 A BROKEN WEDDWG-PING. 
 
 were rolling in grandly ; the wind had freshened, and they 
 broke in sheets of white foam. The sunlight lay on the sea 
 and on the shore, on the white cliffs and on the green hill ; 
 it fell on the golden hair and sweet face opposite to him. 
 A feeling of perfect rest came over him, of happiness such 
 as in his whole life he had never known before. 
 
 For a few minutes they were silent. Hett"_ did not 
 raise her eyes from her work, and he was wondering why 
 the presence of this one woman made so great a difference 
 to him. No man living had a keener sense of honor than 
 Sir Basil, but it stole upon him unawares, this sweet gla- 
 mor of love, and had made its home in his heart long be- 
 fore he knew that it was there. 
 
 " I heard you singing in church last Sunday," he said. 
 41 1 have been staying in this neighborhood for some time. 
 You have a very beautiful voice ; I was quite delighted 
 with it." 
 
 " I am fond of music," she answered " above all things, 
 I am fond of singing ; it is the one pleasure of my life. I 
 forget everything else when I sing." 
 
 " Is there so much in your life that you would like to 
 forget," he asked, suddenly " so young a life as yours ? " 
 
 Her thoughts flew to Leah. Surely no one in the 
 world had so much to forget as she, who had lost this best 
 beloved sister. 
 
 " I am not sure," she replied. " There are some 
 things I should like to be able to think less about." 
 
 She did not wish to forget Leah, but she would gladly 
 have thought less bitterly of her loss. While singing she 
 forgot the keen pain, but never the cause of it. 
 
 " I should not have thought," he said, "that you had 
 had any trouble in life. You are young, and your face 
 has something of the joy of childhood in it." 
 
 She smiled and blushed when she saw his eyes, so full 
 of admiration, bent upon her.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. j o $ 
 
 Then he talked to her of the country, of the sea, and 
 cf her father, and he was delighted with her enthusiasm 
 about him. If the scales had fallen from her eyes, she 
 would not admit it even to herself. With all the force of 
 her loving, tender nature, she clung not only to her father 
 as he actually was, but even to the ideal she had formed 
 of him. It was touching to hear her speak of him ; in his 
 fallen estate he was even greater in her eyes than he had 
 been before. His discontent, irritation, anger, and gloom 
 made no difference to her; his words to her were always 
 full of wisdom. It was natural that he should feel hurt ; 
 the world, she believed, had been cruel to him had under- 
 valued him and ill-used him. If gentle Hettie in her 
 heart hated anything, it was this world which had not ac- 
 knowledged her father's worth. She did not know much 
 about his doctrines and belief ; he had not given himself 
 the trouble to teach her. She had every quality that went 
 to make a noble woman ; but she was not talented. 
 
 There was always that line between Leah and Hettie. 
 Leah had genius ; she had the touch of divine fire that 
 separates those who have it from the whole world. Mar- 
 tin Ray, knowing this, had never tried to teach Hettie ; 
 she was the better able to love him. 
 
 " There must be good," Sir Basil said to himself, " in 
 one who is loved as she loves her father." 
 
 And, though the duke, in his quiet haughty way, had 
 denounced him, Martin Ray rose from that moment in 
 Sir Basil's estimation. 
 
 When once Hettie had lost her shy, embarrassed man- 
 ner, she talked to Sir Basil with all the ease and grace that 
 were natural to her. He told her of the picture in the Acad- 
 emy and she was amused to hear about it, and in her turn 
 related how the artist came to Southwood in search of pic- 
 turesque scenes, and, saw her sitting by this same wall, 
 nd begged that he might take a sketch of her face. She
 
 206 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 did not Know that the picture had been the success o the 
 year. He told her all about it. 
 
 " You seem to live quite out of the world here," he 
 said, when she expressed her surprise. 
 
 And then she told him of her busy life, and how, do 
 what she would, she could not make the days long enough. 
 
 He sat by the ivy-covered wall more than an hour ; and 
 when at last he rose, longing to stay, yet aware that he 
 had been there long enough, they both felt as though they 
 had been friends for years. 
 
 Hettie was a little dismayed when she remembered how 
 freely she had talked to one who was an entire stranger 
 after all. She had conversed with him as though he had 
 been a lifelong friend, and she did not even know his 
 name ; but he had called to see her father, and it would 
 have been rude to let him sit alone and not speak to him. 
 Presently she forgot all about her imprudence and only 
 remembered how pleasant the interview had been the 
 murmur of the deep voice had been musical as the ripple 
 of the waters or the song of the birds, and she seemed 
 stili to hear it ; then the handsome face, with its keen 
 dark eyes she had seen no such face before ! 
 
 The work on which she had been so busy fell from her 
 hands, and she began to dream. Would such a pleasant 
 hour ever come again ? Would she see him and speak to him 
 again ? If not, she thought to herself, this was certainly 
 the happiest hour she had had in her life. How well 
 he seemed to comprehend her ! He understood, too about 
 her father, and her contempt for a world which did not ap- 
 preciate him. He, this young stranger with the dark noble 
 face, had seemed to read and divine her thoughts. Her 
 eyes looked smilingly over the sea. 
 
 He was so different from the type of men who had 
 come to see her father hitherto. During her whole life 
 she did not remember to have talked to any one like him.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 207 
 
 The gent'emen whose little children she taught were some- 
 thing like him, yet far inferior. She liked to recall the 
 grace of his words and his looks. A soft dreamy smile 
 played over her lips, her heart was stirred with a faint 
 sense of pleasure. The western wind and the autumn 
 flowers were all part of her dream. If she had never 
 seen him again, that dream would have remained with her 
 a happy memory, a little oasis of bright coloring amid the 
 gray monotony of her dull everyday life, a picture to look 
 back upon. 
 
 The music of the sea was sweeter that night than ever ; 
 and Hettie fell asleep with a smile on her lips, and 
 dreamed of a dark face, and dark eyes that said to her 
 what no other eyes had ever said. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI, 
 
 SIR BASIL called several times at Rosewalk, and Martin 
 Ray, who had all his life hated every one who could be called 
 aristocratic, took a fancy to him. They did not agree in all 
 respects. Sir Basil told him frankly that he thought some 
 of his ideas terrible and hideous. 
 
 "You will see," said Martin. "You will live longer 
 than I shall. What I now teach the world it will believe 
 and practice when the stinging-nettles are growing ovei 
 my grave." 
 
 " Why do you suppose that your grave will be covered 
 with stinging-nettles ? " asked Sir Basil. 
 
 Martin laughed a bitter little cynical laugh. 
 
 " I do not imagine that any oneliving will care to plant 
 3o crs tnere," he replied.
 
 208 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 They were both startled by a cry of pain. 
 
 " How can you say so, father ? After giving you my 
 life, do you think I shall forget you in death ? " 
 
 Sir Basil never forgot the reproach in the sweet face 
 that quivered with pain. The blue eyes had a strained, 
 hunted expression. 
 
 They were all three standing within the pretty porch 
 when this conversation took place. Hettie forgot every- 
 thing, except that her heart was wounded. She went up 
 to her father with a little err of outraged love, and put 
 her arm around his neck. 
 
 " Dear," she said, " I should, if I live the longer, be as 
 faithful to you in death as I have been in life." 
 
 " I know that ; you are a good child," responded 
 Martin. 
 
 He caressed her shining, golden hair lovingly ; but 
 before him rose the brilliant face of the child he loved with 
 his whole heart,and who had renounced him, and something 
 of repressed impatience came into his manner. The child 
 who had renounced him and his doctrines, his life, and the 
 mission he had given her, was still a thousand times dearer 
 to Martin Ray than the child who had served him with 
 tender, faithful, devoted love. 
 
 Something in this little scene struck Sir Basil forcibly. 
 He admired the daughter's devotion ; but what did that 
 hungry wistful despair in her father's face mean ? Why 
 was he not comforted by the sweet love of his daughter ? 
 Why had he not taken her in his arms and thanked her 
 tenderly for her great devotion. 
 
 So the weeks sped on, and Martin \ .ay, in his own cyn- 
 ical, selfish fashion, after a time became quite fond of Sir 
 Basil. He looked for his coming ; he was more gloomy 
 than usual on the days when he did not make his appear- 
 ance. 
 
 They were talking together one morning, while Hettie
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 309 
 
 was away giving her lessons ; and Sir "Basil said laugh- 
 ingly that it was strange they had met so often without 
 Martin even knowing his name. 
 
 There was something impressive in the gesture with 
 which Martin suddenly held up his hand. 
 
 " Is it a name that you have made for yourself ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " No ; it was made for me," replied Sir Basil. 
 
 " Then I do not want to know it. As a man with good 
 intentions, I like you ; you are straightforward, honest, 
 and honorable ; and, if you have one of those names with 
 a ' handle,' probably borne by many generations of men 
 who have lived upon their fellow-men, I do not wish to 
 know it. The first time I saw you I thought you looked 
 like an aristocrat. If you are one, do not tell me so ; it 
 would spoil my opinion of you." 
 
 " It shall be as you will," laughed Sir Basil. " If evr 
 I do make my name famous, I will disclose it to you ; if 
 not " 
 
 " I do not care for a title that has been handed from 
 father to son. I like a name that has been fairly earned. 
 Strange to say, my wife was prouder of her grand old 
 name than of anything else. It was singular that she 
 should marry a man like me." 
 
 Sir Basil bethought himself that t d duke had desired 
 him, should he ever make the acquaintance of Martin Ray, 
 not to mention his name. 
 
 " If you call me ' Glen,' " he said. " I shall understand,- 
 and that name will do as well as any other." 
 
 " I hope," said Martin, half savagely, '* that you are 
 not a young duke in disguise." 
 
 m " I am quite sure of that," replied Sir Basil, laughingly. 
 "I am neither duke nor ' belted earl.' " 
 
 " It would be hard work to hate you ; but I should hate 
 you if you were," said Martin.
 
 310 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 From that time he always called Sir Basil ' Glen ; ' 
 and when Hettie spoke of him it was as " Mr. Glen.'* 
 
 It often happened that when he called at the cottage 
 he found Hettie at home alone ; and then they talked 
 together by the ivy-covered wall. 
 
 " Knowing you has made such a difference in our 
 lives," she said to him one morning. " My father seems 
 so much better for it. You cheer him, and give him back 
 some of the old fire which had nearly died out. I am glad 
 for his sake that you find time to visit us." 
 
 " Are you not glad for any other reason ? " he asked 
 impetuously. " Are you not pleased to see me yourself ? " 
 Then he remembered that he had no right to say such 
 words to her. " I beg your pardon," he said, gently. " I 
 express myself badly. What I mean is, that I receive 
 more pleasure in being allowed to call here than I can 
 possibly give." 
 
 It was such sudden, abrupt changes in his manner that 
 made her think more of him, perhaps, than she otherwise 
 would have thought. He exhibited at times a certain 
 degree of tenderness, which would vanish like magic and 
 give place to silence that was almost stern. 
 
 Sir Basil was very kind to the man whom every one 
 else seemed to have forsaken. He brought him newspapers. 
 If he heard him express a desire for a particular book, he 
 obtained it for him. More than once, when Martin took ill 
 and feeble, he had sent a case of choice wine. Martin 
 took it all in good part ; it was a tribute to his worth that 
 he quite approved. 
 
 " There is the making of a fine man in Glen," he would 
 say to his daughter. 
 
 " Is he not a fine man now ? " she would ask, half 
 timidly. 
 
 And Martin would shake his head. 
 
 " Not yet. He could be trained. He has genius, and
 
 A BROKEV WEDDING-RING. 
 
 tit has eloquence ; he would make a good 6rator. I like 
 him ; but my own impression is that his ideas are not yet 
 sound, that he is studying the two great questions, hesi- 
 tating between the two great parties." 
 
 " You must help him, father," Hettie would answer, 
 blithely " no one understands these matters so well as 
 you do." And such demonstrations of faith in him pleased 
 Martin Ray. 
 
 It was impossible that these long absences should pass 
 unnoticed. Not that Leah was unreasonable, or expected 
 Sir Basil to follow her like a shadow, but she did wonder 
 why he never asked her to accompany him. 
 
 " Another long ramble, Basil ? " she said one morning, 
 as he passed her in the hall. " I am afraid we shall have 
 rain." 
 
 " It looks like it," returned Sir Basil ; but he did not 
 offer to remain at horn 
 
 " I will go with you to the park gates," she said, 
 gently. 
 
 She always looked beautiful in the old-fashionea oroad- 
 brimmed garden hat that threw a softened shade on her 
 face. Her dress of pale amber trailing over the green 
 grass became her admirably. 
 
 " They will be the handsomest couple in England," the 
 duchess remarked, as she caught sight of them from the 
 conservatory. 
 
 "You worship beauty, duchess,'* said the general, 
 laughing at her enthusiasm. 
 
 " When I see it," she replied. 
 
 Leah and Sir Basil went through the grounds to the 
 gates of the park. 
 
 " Shall you be long, Basil ? " she asked, wistfully. 
 
 He noticed that she did not ask where he was going. 
 
 "No; I am going to Southwood, Lea**" he replied.
 
 212 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " The fact is,*I have made the acquaintance of a famous 
 old politician there, and his arguments interest me." 
 
 The words conveyed no meaning to her. That the old 
 politician should be her father, Martin Ray, never oc- 
 curred to her. Never were two persons so near a truth 
 without revealing it ; never did the points of two lives 
 meet so closely, and then diverge. If she had merely 
 said, "What politician ? " or " Who is he ? " he would have 
 answered, " Martin Ray," and who can tell how different 
 many lives would have been ? She was engrossed in her 
 lover and in everything concerning him ; but she was not 
 curious, and was not given to questioning him. She knew 
 that he was greatly interested in the political struggles of 
 the day ; she knew also that he hoped in time to become 
 a statesman ; and that an old politician should instruct and 
 amuse him seemed to her quite natural. It was a strange 
 decree of fate that the man whom she loved with all her 
 heart should have met and have grown interested in the 
 father she had renounced. 
 
 " Basil," she said gayly, " I shall take to politics. 
 When you are a great statesman, chancellor of the exche- 
 quer, or prime minister, you will want a political wife. I 
 shall give grand dinner-parties, and cajole everybody into 
 telling me his secrets." 
 
 " You will have to be very clever to do that, Leah," he 
 rejoined, laughing. 
 
 " I shall manage it. You will see that I shall learn 
 all the plans of the various parties for you. I am sure 
 that I shall make an excellent wife for a statesman/' They 
 had reached the park gates, and she continued : " If I had 
 anything but a garden-hat on, I would accompany you, 
 Basil. The house is dull to me when you are out of it 
 Make haste home again, dear." 
 
 How she loved him ! How grateful he ought to have 
 been for such love ! How happy he ought to have been J
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. a 13 
 
 Yet he sighed as he climbed the hill, and c?ught sight of 
 the restless sea ; and his face, when Martin Ray saw him, 
 was not the face of a happy man. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Two more weeks passed, and by that time Martin Ray 
 had grown warmly attached to the man whom he would 
 call " young Glen ; " Martin himself was ill his health 
 was fast failing ; and he clung to this younger man, so full 
 of health, strength, and vitality only a chance acquain- 
 tance, but one of the few ties that bound him to the outer 
 world. Men had forgotten him ; he said bitterly that they 
 had not even waited until he was dead. Now that his 
 health and strength had left him, now that his grand son- 
 orous voice could no longer declaim its magnificent denun- 
 ciations, now that the inner fire had burned out, and in 
 the sunken eyes the light of enthusiasm shone no more, 
 he was forgotten by the thousands whom he had led ; not 
 one cared what had become of t him, and, but for the faith- 
 ful love and service of his daughter, he must have died. 
 In these days much of his pride had left him, and there 
 were times when his eyes ached for one glimpse of Leah. 
 Then, sitting moodily watching the sea, he would ask him- 
 self if he had really cursed her, and if Heaven had heard 
 his evil wish. 
 
 One day Sir Basil, Doming earlier than usual in the 
 morning, found him sitting by the ivy-covered wall, his 
 face buried in his hands. When he raised it to greet him, 
 the baronet saw plainly the traces of tears. 
 
 As usual, Martin was cynical, even about himself. 
 
 " I am a very rueful-looking patriot this morning," b.9 
 said. " I have been ill all night, and I am alone." 
 
 Sir Basil glanced round.
 
 214 
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " Where is Miss Ray ? " he asked. 
 
 " My daughter is always busied about something of 
 other ; she has not much time to give to me. It was 
 different once." 
 
 Sir Basil felt indignant. He knew that, no matter 
 where Hettie night be, she was working for him and for 
 no one else. 
 
 " I think," he said, quietly, " that Miss Ray gives you 
 ail her time. I have never seen a daughter so devoted." 
 
 " She is very good," he allowed ; and then he added, 
 abruptly, " I had another daughter ones." 
 
 It seemed as though some irresponsible power forced 
 him to talk of Leah. It was the first time he had spoken 
 of her since the day she had left him, and, like pent-up 
 waters suddenly let loose, his thoughts and feelings at once 
 found vent. He rose from his seat and stretched his 
 arms out toward the great heaving ocean. 
 
 " I have never pretended to be what people call ten- 
 der-hearted, but my love for that girl was deeper than the 
 sea," he cried " deeper and wider than yonder sea ! " 
 
 Sir Basil thought to himself that he looked like one of 
 the grand heroes of old, with his tall figure and massive 
 head, his arms outstretched in appealing despair. 
 
 " I made two idols," he continued. " The first was 
 my wife she died ; the other was my daughter." 
 
 " Did she die also ? " said Sir Basil, pityingly. 
 
 " No , she is worse than dead a thousand times worse 
 than dead. If I could weep over some green grave con 
 taining her I should be happier." 
 
 " Not dead ? " said Sir Basil, wonderingly. 
 
 " No ; she deserted me ; she cast me off, much as you 
 would throw away your old gloves. I swore that I would 
 never mention her name ; but, if I do not speak, my heart 
 will break. I have thought of her all night against my 
 will quite against my will."
 
 A BROKEN 1 WEDDING-RING. 215 
 
 " It is only natural that you should think of her," re- 
 joined the baronet. 
 
 " No ; you do not know what she did. I had these two 
 daughters, Hettie and another. Hettie is a loving, gentle 
 girl ; the other was a genius, a bright, beautiful, gifted 
 girl, who would have been a prophetess among the people. 
 My heart was wrapped up in her. People say that a 
 father should make no difference in the love that he bears 
 his children. How can he help it ? To me one was as a 
 magnificent imperial eagle, the other like a gentle white 
 dove. I loved the eagle best. I wanted to make her a 
 heroine, to teach her to go among the people, to teach as 
 I had taught. She was so beautiful, so full of fire and 
 spirit, a grand soul shining in her eyes ! I told her what 
 I wanted. I asked her for her life's service. What is the 
 service of a life when one loves a cause? On the very 
 day that I unfolded my plans to her a stranger came 
 among us a man related to my wife. He was rich bah, 
 how I hate to speak of him ! and he wanted to adopt my 
 children. I refused his offer ; he appealed to them. Ah ! 
 Heaven, when I think of the scene ! She, the daughter 
 whom I loved best, left me, and went up to him, this 
 stranger, and clung to him. * Take me away,' she cried. 
 'I have been praying to Heaven to send me a deliverer 
 from this furnace of fire ! ' She went away with him, and 
 I cursed her." 
 
 As he finished speaking, Martin Ray's arms fell nerve- 
 lessly by his side, and his gray head drooped upon his 
 breast. 
 
 " And the other Hettie what did she do ? " 
 
 " Ah ! good, faithful Hettie ! She came to me. I see 
 the picture now, Glen. She put her arms round my neck. 
 'I will love you, and serve you, and be true to you until I 
 'Ve,' she said. And so we four stood looking at each 
 otter, Tben the other two went away. Hettie and I have
 
 2i6 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 been alone ever since ; we have never uttered her sister's 
 name since the day she left us, and we never shall. If 
 Hettie ever breathed it, I would send her from us. Yet 
 to-day I grieve that I cursed my eldest child. What do 
 you think," added Martin, afte- a short pause, " of the 
 choice my daughters made ? " 
 
 " I think Miss Hettie one of the must devoted, most 
 unselfish girls in the world," answered the baronet. 
 
 " And what do you think of the other ? " asked Martin 
 Ray. 
 
 " What can I think ? " said Sir Basil. " What could 
 any man think of a girl who deserts her own father and 
 clings to a stranger ? " 
 
 " You condemn her then ? " questioned Martin Ray, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " It is not my place to judge or condemn. Perhaps 
 she could put the matter in a way which would make it 
 appear quite different ; but, so far as I can see, I should 
 say that Miss Hettie was by far the more noble of the two. 
 I should think her sister selfish, and certainly wanting in 
 nobility of character wanting, too, in natural affection, if 
 she could desert her father and cling to a stranger." 
 
 " I have never been the same man since," said Martin 
 Ray, with a sigh. 
 
 " I should hardly have thought that two sisters could 
 have differed so greatly," remarked Sir Basil, quite uncon- 
 scious that by his own words he was condemning the girl 
 he had asked to be his wife. 
 
 " I should like to know," said Martin Ray, with a 
 haggard face, " if curses ever really cause evil ; I should like 
 to know if that proud, beautiful head will bend under the 
 curse I laid upon it ? " 
 
 " I hope not," answered Sir Basil, quietly. 
 
 Martin turned to him suddenly. 
 
 rromise me," he said, " that you will not reveal one
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 217 
 
 word of what I have told you. Hettie believes that I have 
 forgotten her sister. I wish her still to think so." 
 
 " I shall never speak of it," promised Sir Basil. " You 
 may rely upon me." 
 
 But as he went home he thought much of the story he 
 had just heard. What a strange thing that two sisters 
 should differ so greatly that one should be so noble, so 
 full of self-sacrifice and that the other should leave her 
 father and go away with a stranger ! He admired Hettie 
 more than ever. 
 
 " She has an angelic face and an angelic nature," he said 
 to himself. " It is not often that the two go together." 
 
 He remembered the story again when he saw Leah. 
 So perfectly unconscious was he that she was the heroine 
 of it that he thought to himself how grandly Leah would 
 have acted in the circumstances ; he felt sure that she, 
 too, would have gone to her father's side and have stood 
 by him against the whole world. 
 
 When he called again at the cottage, Martin was very 
 ill, and Hettie in great distress. She looked to him more 
 beautiful than ever, her blue eyes filled with tears, her 
 lovely face so full of sorrow and compassion. He watched 
 her preparing with deft fingers all that Martin needed. 
 He thought of the heavy burden laid upon those young 
 shoulders, and he wondered again at the heartlessness of 
 the sister who could have left it all for her to bear. His 
 heart went out to her, as he believed in simple pity. It 
 was such a hard life. 
 
 " I wish," he said, approaching her, * that I could do 
 something for you." 
 
 " You have done a great deal for me," she replied, 
 with a quick, bright smile. 
 
 Have I ? What is it, Miss Hettie ? " 
 
 " You have given me comfort by speaking so kindly." 
 
 " If I knew how to give you comfort," said Sir Basil
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 quickly, " I would ask for nothing better. I cannot tell 
 you how sorry I am to see you so sorely tried. Let me 
 lift that heavy tray for you. Those little white hands of 
 yours were never made for hard work like this. 
 
 " I think," she said, smiling through her tears, " that 
 you would be amused to see how much what you call my 
 * little white hands ' can do between sewing and writing, 
 It seems to me they travel many miles each day." 
 
 Sir Basil stood by quite helpless. He saw how anxious 
 and distressed Hettie was, and he thought with bitterness 
 of the sister who had left her. Something of what filled 
 his heart was shown in his manner, and in some vague way 
 they understood each other. Without words, something 
 was acknowledged by both his sympathy, her gratitude 
 for it, his kindly affection, and her pleasure in it. 
 
 Sir Basil did not stay long ; but when he bade Hettie 
 farewell something was in each face which had never been 
 there before, some new feeling stirred each heart. They 
 said good-night hurriedly, with averted faces ; but in 
 Hettie's heart there was a thrill of something like new life, 
 and in Sir Basil's a strange, tumultuous happiness that he 
 hardly understood. 
 
 Leah wondered more than ever at the preoccupied 
 manner of her lover. Was he thinking of her ? Was it 
 the future that troubled him ? Was he dreaming of poli- 
 tics ? The last thing in this world that she would have 
 suspected was that he was thinking ot hex iung-lost sister 
 Hettie.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. SX9 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 THE time came when Sir Basil Carlton stood face to 
 face with the knowledge of his own secret, when he said to 
 himself that, if marriages were made in heaven, Hettie 
 was the one woman intended for him, that she was the 
 only woman in this world he could ever love. She stood 
 out quite distinct and clear to him. He knew that at last 
 he had met the love that was his doom, that he Sir Basil 
 Carlton, engaged to marry the great heiress, Leah Hatton 
 loved with his whole heart Hettie Ray, the daughter of 
 a man whose name seemed to be hated and despised 
 among the class of which he himself was a prominent 
 member. That Hettie was poor and unknown, that she 
 was the daughter of such a father, he cared nothing. If 
 he had been free, he would have pleaded his suit, he would 
 have taken her in his arms and never let her go until she 
 had promised to be his wife. As it was, knowing that he 
 loved her, he must look upon her face only once again, 
 and then it must be to say farewell. 
 
 He marvelled within himself at the strange fate that 
 had befallen him. The woman who loved him better than 
 her own life was beautiful as a goddess, and she would 
 bring to her husband, both money and lands ; yet his heart 
 did not incline to her. He was grateful to her, fond of 
 her, but he did not love her with the love that comes but 
 ouce in life. 
 
 She had loved him ; and, because her happiness was 
 dear to him, because her uncle had told him that her life 
 was wrapped up in his, because . he was heart-whole and 
 fancy-free, he had. asked her to marry him. And, now 
 tfiat he was bound in faith and honor to her, he had met
 
 220 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 the one woman who seemed to have been made for him. 
 He was perplexed, agitated. He loved one woman with 
 his whole heart, and had promised to marry another. 
 Which way did honor lie ? Was it best to keep his prom- 
 ise, to go away and never look on Hettie's fair face 
 again, to give up the one love that might have blessed his 
 life, and marry the woman he did not love, but to whom 
 he was in honor bound ? Which was best ? Was it hon- 
 orable to marry without love, or was it most honorable to 
 break all other ties and marry the one truly beloved ? 
 
 He had not sought his fate ; he had been almost asked 
 to marry Leah ; so much had been said to him that, with 
 out being absolutely cruel, he could not have done other- 
 wise ; and now he found that he had made himself miserable 
 for life. 
 
 *' I wish," he cried to himself, in vain reproach, " that 
 I had not been so impetuous. If I had waited but one year 
 longer ! " 
 
 Sir Basil was dissatisfied with himself ; look which way 
 he would, he had reason for self-reproach. He should 
 have taken more time to think over the subject, and know 
 ing himself bound in honor to Leah, he should have been 
 more careful about Hettie. He knew now that he had loved 
 Hettie at first sight ; he ought not to have yielded to the 
 temptation of seeing her a second time. When he found 
 that morning, noon, and night the fair face with its halo of 
 golden hair haunted him, he should have known the reason. 
 
 He stood face to face with this one fact at last that 
 wealth, title, fame, grandeur, nothing that earth could give 
 him was of any value unless with it he had the love of 
 Hettie Ray. He was in despair. 
 
 " Who is it that directs this power we call love ? " he 
 asked himself. " Why can I not love the woman I must 
 marry ? Why can I not marry the woman I love ? " 
 
 Looking forward through the possible years of a long
 
 A BROKEN WED0rNG-RItfG. 2 2I 
 
 fife, he saw no gleam of brightness ; there could be no 
 happiness in a future unshared by Hettie Ray. He was 
 not the first man who had stood confused and embarrassed 
 on the threshold of life not the first r<> go through that 
 terrible struggle between duty and inclination from which 
 no man, perhaps, altogether escapes. What would he have 
 said or thought had he known that the two girls between 
 whom he was so curiously placed were sisters ? He thought 
 himself already the sport of fate. If he had known the 
 truth, he would have believed himself cursed by fate. He 
 began to wonder what Hettie's feelings were if she cared 
 for him ; and then his conscience reproached him. He knew 
 she did ; he had read her love in his eyes on that night 
 when everything was changed between them. If he were 
 but free ! It seemed almost unmanly, but he could not 
 help the bitter sob which rose to his lips. He knew that 
 the present state of things must end, that he must make 
 up his mind with respects to some immediate course of ac- 
 tion. He must not play with fire, he must not dally with 
 temptation, he must decide at once which way honor lay. 
 
 That same evening, after dinner, the duchess proposed 
 that they should spend an h">ur in the picture-gallery, which 
 ran half round the house and was one of the most magni- 
 ficent parts of it. The Dene collection of pictures was 
 considered one of the finest in England. Portraits of tru 
 Rosedenes of many generations hung there with pictures 
 by the old masters and by modern artists. White marble 
 statues and jardinieres with costly flowers filled the nu- 
 merous recesses ; while comfortable seats were inter- 
 spersed here and there. 
 
 The duchess sat in a lounging clr.jr of crimson velvet, 
 watching the pretty groups scattered about ; but there were 
 two among the guests upon whom her eyes chiefly rested. 
 One was a tall, graceful girl draped in palest amber, hal. 
 covered with black lace ; diamonds shone on her dark head,
 
 2 22 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 on her white breast, and on her beautiful arms. She carried 
 a fan glittering with jewels and made of pale amber plumes : 
 her dress was cut after the fashion of an old Venetian pio 
 ture, and with the diamonds at her breast were some scarlet 
 passion-flowers. She formed a perfect picture ; and so 
 many of the gentlemen present seemed to think, for they 
 haunted her like shadows. Shadows, too, they were to 
 her, for she saw only Sir Basil ; her eyes never lingered 
 with interest on any one else. She had been walking up 
 and down what was called the south gallery with Sir Basil, 
 and the duchess saw with annoyance that while Leah's 
 whole soul shone in her eyes and trembled on her lips, he 
 was distant and preoccupied. 
 
 "The man who has won the love of such a woman 
 ought to be proud of her," she thought ; " but if I were to 
 xpress my ideas on the subject, I should say that he looks 
 most decidedly bored." 
 
 It was true. All the brilliancy of Leah's beauty, Jier 
 grace, her wit, the touch of genius which made her different 
 from others, the very lavishness of the love she gave him, 
 tired him. He knew that the position was pitiful, that it 
 was cruel ; but he could not help it. As he walked by her 
 side, the shining amber robes and the light of her diamonds 
 contrasted unfavorably with the pale blue dress and sweet 
 face of the girl whom he loved so dearly. 
 
 " Basil," she said, " I am jure you are not listening to 
 me; your thoughts are elsewhere. Do you know what 
 Lady Fanny Curtiss said about you to-day ? " 
 
 "Lady Fanny is so very uncomplimentary, I hardly 
 care to inquire," laughed Sir Basil. 
 
 " She said that you looked like one of the Gunpowder. 
 Plot band that you wanted only a slouched hat, a large 
 cloak, and a lantern to make you a perfect conspirator." 
 
 "What called forth Lady Fanny's wit ? " he asked. 
 
 " You have looked so sad, Basil, during the last te\
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. $13 
 
 days ; you have lost all the bright, cheery, genial manner 
 which made you so so irresistible." 
 
 " What an expressive word Leah ! " he replied, trying 
 to treat the matter lightly. 
 
 They were standing then by a magnificent statue of 
 Cleopatra holding the viper in her hand. The marble 
 face of the unhappy queen looked down upon them. 
 
 " Do not laugh at me, Basil," she said ; and the passion 
 in her voice awed him. She stood quite still and laid her 
 hand, as though for support, upon the arm of the Egyptian 
 queen. <: Tell me dear, is it my fault that you are not 
 happy ? Have I done anything that has displeased you ? 
 You know that I live only for you. Is it I who vex you, 
 who grieve you, Basil ? " Her beautiful head drooped 
 nearer to him. " My love, my love, ' she whispered. " if 
 there be a single thing in my daily life that does not please 
 you, tell me, and I will change it." 
 
 At that moment he wished himself dead ; he hated him- 
 self because he could not give her back love for love. 
 
 " There is nothing in you that could be changed for 
 the better, Leah," he said ; " you are perfect. You never 
 either grieve or vex me. I am out of health or spirits I 
 think." 
 
 She touched with her warm loving lips the hand that 
 lay near her ; but the marble Cleopatra was not colder 
 than was his heart 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 SIR BASIL had decided. He had tried to think of his case 
 
 as though it were another's ; he had tried to weigh it, give 
 
 judgment upon it. There were two courses open to him 
 
 he could go to Leah, tell her his story, and ask for his 
 
 8
 
 324 * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 freedom, or he could leave Dene and never look on Hettie's 
 sweet face again. 
 
 If he decided to pursue the former, he knew that it 
 would be far less crue' were he to plunge a knife into 
 Leah's breast ; he knew that it would kill her more surely 
 than if he had gone away and left her long before. Was 
 it his duty to consider her first ? Clearly. He had asked 
 her to be his wife ! he had never dreamed that a time would 
 come when he should love with all the madness, the pas- 
 sion, the impetuosity of youth ; he had fancied in some 
 vague way that his engagement would ^ave him from it. 
 Yes before he thought of himself or his own happiness, 
 he must think of Leah. 
 
 Only a few months since, his life had lain before him 
 bright and calm as a summer sea ; be had known but little 
 trouble. He had youth, wealth, every good gift, in short"; 
 ncv/ all these were valueless to him, because he must re- 
 nounce the thing he loved best. Weighing all the circum- 
 stances, he did not think he could have called himself dis- 
 honorable had he told the whole story to Leah. But he 
 could not crush her her whose only fault was loving him 
 not wisely, but too well. She must be his first care, since 
 she was his promised wife. But, tvhile he was deciding to 
 surrender all hopes for the future, he determined to have 
 one more glimpse of paradise and say farewell to Hettie, 
 so that he might take with him through all time the mem- 
 ory of her words and looks. 
 
 On the morning after he had come to this decision ho 
 told the general that it was very probable he should be 
 compelled to return to Glen in a few days. Business 
 awaited him ; one or two leases had fallen in and there 
 was adjoining property for sale in fact, there were several 
 important reasons why he must go at once. 
 
 " Leah will be very sorry," said Sir Arthur, whos 
 first thought was always for his beloved niece.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 32$ 
 
 Sir Basil was not the man to do things by halves. 
 
 " Why need you linger after I am gone ? You can bring 
 Leah back to Brentwood. I am sure she will be pleased 
 to be at home again, though they make us very happy here. 
 And, Sir Arthur," he continued, determined to rivet his 
 Chains at once, "when you are once more at Brentwood, I 
 want to talk to you about about the marriage ; it is time 
 something was settled." 
 
 Sir Arthur laughed and looked pleased. 
 
 " You must talk to Leah about that, Basil," he said. 
 " Place aux dames always ! " r- 
 
 " Yes, I will talk to Leah about it," returned the other, 
 impetuously. " I 0"* not see the use of this long delay." 
 
 " Nor do I," said the general. " I do not understand 
 the art of love-making ; but you have both had plenty of 
 time to make up your minds. You love each other ; I do 
 not see what need there is for further waiting." 
 
 How Sir Basil winced at the simple words, at the im- 
 plic \ faith, the complete confidence and trust reposed in 
 him \ What would this old soldier say if he knew that he 
 had given his heart, his love, to some one else ? 
 
 The same day he told Leah of his intention to leave 
 Dene. He often afterward thought of the scene. She 
 wa?. in the drawing-room, standing by the table, turning 
 over the leaves of a book, when he went up to her. 
 
 " Leah," he said, gently, " I find from my letters this 
 morning that I must go back to Glen. I have some im- 
 portant business to attend to at home." 
 
 Slie had been smiling as she looked over the engrav- 
 ing3 ; but her face changed as she heard the words. 
 
 ** You are going, Basil," she said " leaving us ? " 
 
 A quiver of pain passed over her face, a wistful expres- 
 sioa crept into her eyes. He thought to himself, if the 
 simy.le announcement of his departure for a few days could 
 cause her such pain, what would have happened had he
 
 t2 6 * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 told her all ? He could not be cruel to her. He must take 
 care that she never knew, never suspected the truth. He 
 must endeavor to make her happy, although he could never 
 be so. How well she loved him and, oh, the pity of it ? 
 
 "Leah," he said, taking her hand in his, "I will not 
 talk to you now. The general told me that you will not re- 
 main much longer at Dene. You will return to Brentwood 
 in a few days : and then you will let me speak to you about 
 our marriage ? I want you to fix a date for it, to tell me 
 when you think it can take place. It seems uncertain, and 
 I am tired of uncertainty." 
 
 A look of unutterable relief came over her face. Ah, 
 Heaven be thanked ! It was of her, of their marriage and 
 their future, that he had been thinking lately with so grave 
 a face. A great tearless sob rose to her lips she had 
 been so unhappy about him, and all without reason , his 
 silence had been caused only by his anxious thoughts of 
 her, They were alone in the drawing-room. She looked 
 up at him, all the love that filled her heart shining in her 
 dark eyes. She put one fair arm around his neck. 
 
 *' Basil, I have been so unhappy about you," she mur- 
 mured. " People said that you looked preoccupied and 
 dull. I could see for myself that you were not the same ; 
 and I wondered if you had ceased to love me." 
 
 " Ceased to love you, Leah ! " He tried to speak care- 
 lessly, but his whole frame trembled and his lips grew pale. 
 *' Ceased to love you ! Leah, tell me what you would do if 
 that happened." 
 
 The face raised to his was full of earnestness and truth 
 
 " What should I do ? " she replied. " There would be 
 but one thing on earth for me to do, and that would be to 
 die. When all that made life worth living was gone, how 
 ould I live ? " 
 
 " Life is very precious," he said, drawing her closer to 
 himself ; " and it is not easy to die."
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 337 
 
 " It would be easy for me," she declared. " I have 
 let all my desires and interests merge themselves in yours. 
 I have kept back nothing for myself, not even one thought 
 of my heart." 
 
 " I know you have not," he said, touched inexpressibly 
 by the pathos of her voice and face. He caressed the 
 dark masses of hair, and the girl's whole face grew radiant 
 at this unexpected indication of his tenderness. " Leah," 
 he went on, thoughtfully, " I am the last one to preach on 
 such subjects, but do you think it wise for any one, man or 
 woman, to become so completely engrossed in his or her 
 love ? " 
 
 " No, certainly not," she replied ; " I do not think it wise ; 
 but there are some who cannot help it." 
 
 " You have given me your heart, your love, your life. 
 Suppose it should be the will of Heaven that I die what 
 then?" 
 
 " I should die too," she replied, with a look so calm 
 that he saw she would find nothing to repine at in such a 
 fate. " I have my own ideas about true love," she added ; 
 41 and ours is true love, Basil, though the portion of it that 
 comes to us in this life is smaller than that which I feel 
 assured we shall enjoy in the next. And you, Basil," she 
 asked, looking up at him with happy eyes, " what should 
 you do if I died ? " 
 
 Heaven help him ! He hated himself. He longed for 
 the power to take her in his arms, to whisper loving words 
 to her, to kiss her lips, to make her happy ; but he could 
 not the fair, sweet face with eyes like blue hyacinths 
 floated between them. 
 
 " I cannot tell," he replied. " Men are so unlike women ; 
 even the quality of their love is different." 
 
 " One thing, I am sure, would never happen ; you would 
 never care for any one else," she said, with the implicit 
 faith of a loving woman.
 
 * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 He hated himself more than ever as the words fell on 
 his ear. 
 
 " You believe in constancy, Leah ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes," she said, musingly. " I cannot imagine any- 
 thing so terrible as losing you ; and even if I lived after 
 such an awful calamity. I could never care for any one 
 save you. No other would have power to interest me. I 
 believe in one love and no more." 
 
 " If she knew," he thought, with a bitter sigh. " Leah," 
 he said, after a few minutes' silence, " could anything that 
 I might ever do make you hate me ? " 
 
 " No," she replied, " nothing. I have asked myself 
 that question. If you were in a fellon's cell to-morrow, I 
 would share it with you. I would go to the scaffold with 
 you." 
 
 " Dear," he said, gently, " that is a great love, but is it 
 >t a blind love ? " 
 
 " Yes," she answered ; " and in this world a blind love 
 is best. You have made me very happy, Basil," she con- 
 tinued. " During these evenings, while you have looked 
 so thoughtful, I have watched you anxiously." 
 
 " Why did you not tell me that you were troubled ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 *' I did not like to do so. Although I know how much 
 you love me, Basil, there are times when I feel timid and 
 almost afraid of intruding on you." 
 
 " I thought," he said, jestingly only too pleased to 
 jest " that in perfect love there was no fear ? " 
 
 " There is fear in every love," she replied. " I must 
 know, for I feel mine so strongly. Ah ! me, I am happy 
 to-day, Basil ! In future, when you look thoughtful, I shall 
 say to myself that you are thinking of me." 
 
 She raised her face to his ; and, bending down, he 
 kissed the loving lips and the tears from the happy eyes.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RIM, 
 
 My love," she murmured, " I could almost wish eo die 
 here and now, while I am sure that you love me." 
 
 And it would have been well for her if she had died. 
 
 The sound of her voice, the clasp of her arms, the kiss 
 from her lips, the memory of her loving words, went with 
 him as he set out to say farewell to the girl he loved. Just 
 that one half-hour from a whole lifetime should be his. He 
 would take Hettie's hand, look into her face, and say 
 " Good-by," never to meet her more, his first, last only love j 
 and then the rest of his life should be given to duty. 
 
 It was the close of an autumn afternoon when he sought 
 Hettie Ray. The light was dying in an amber sky ; and 
 h > valked with swift footsteps up the green hill that Jw 
 would never climb again. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 HETTIE RAY was watching the amber light. The king 
 of day was setting in royal splendor. He had donned new 
 colors this evening ; he had dispensed with crimson and 
 gold, and had surrounded himself with clouds of deep am- 
 ber and purple kingly colors that, falling upon the sea, 
 gave a weird gleam to the waters. The light of a daffodil 
 sky was there in full perfection, but the green earth looked 
 strange under it ; a curious glow lay upon the hills, upon 
 the trees and the grass. To Hettie's loving eyes it seemed 
 as though Nature were waiting, and that, when the sun had 
 set, something would happen. The sun was sinking lower 
 and lower ; the amber clouds seemed *x> touch the water's 
 edge. From the waves on the shore ~ame a musical mur- 
 mur, from the birds in the trees an evening hymn. Hettie, 
 in her old seat by the ivy-covered wall, was tranquil!/ 
 watching the lovely scene.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 Her father had fallen asleep. He was very ill, an<! 
 she was anxious about him. She had decided that if he 
 were not better on the morrow she would call in a doctor. 
 She had been up with him all night, and she had been hard 
 at work all day ; she was tired and anxious yet there was 
 a look of happiness on her fair face. In the midst of the 
 gloom and the darkness there was a ray of light for her- 
 the handsome young stranger whom her father called 
 " Glen*' loved her ; she felt sure of it. She was so shy, so 
 modest, so completely without vanity or coquetry, so simple 
 and sweet-, in her busy life she had had but little time to 
 think of love and lovers. Deep in her heart lay a dim 
 vague knowledge, half hope, half fear, that some day or 
 other this beautiful dream would come to her. 
 
 She could not be unhappy while thoughts of " Glen " 
 pierced the gloom. All the fatigue of the night and the 
 labor of the day had been as nothing to her, because 
 of her thoughts of him. She did not own to herself that 
 she loved him and was ready to give her love unsought ; 
 but she knew that if he loved her, as she had now some 
 reason to believe he did, she would be the happiest girl on 
 earth. How handsome he was, how noble, how good ! 
 What a knightly face was his, what a courtly manner ! She 
 could understand now the true meaning of the word " gentle- 
 man." And, while she was thinking of him, while the am- 
 ber clouds rested on the water, he stood suddenly by her 
 side. No rose ever blushed more sweetly ; her whole 
 face changed ; her eyes welcomed him, and said what her 
 lips could not utter. 
 
 " How strange ! " she said. " I was just thinking of 
 you." 
 
 He longed to tell her that there was no moment, night 
 or day, in which he was not thinking of her, but he re- 
 strained himself. He was there to say good-by. He 
 might wait a few moments. He was on the brink : let
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 231 
 
 pause there, let him stand by her in silence for the 
 last time and watch the waves breaking on the sands. 
 
 " I was thinking of you," repeated Hettie. " I knew 
 that you would come." v 
 
 " I have a motive in coming," he said. " I will tell 
 you presently what it is. Let us watch the setting of the 
 sun together." 
 
 He knew that the sun of his life would set with it ; he 
 felt somewhat like a soldier who, condemned to be shot for 
 some act of insubordination, stands by the side of his own 
 open grave. " When the sun has set, I shall have told 
 her, and I shall have gone too," he said to himself. He 
 bent his pale, troubled face over the glossy ivy. 
 
 Hettie looked more fair and seraphic than ever, feeling 
 sure that he had come to tell her that he loved her she 
 had seen it in his face on the previous night. She folded 
 her white hands, and they stood side by side in perfect 
 silence while the sun set. As it seemed to touch the water's 
 edge, the clouds turned crimson. The change was so 
 quick and so marvellous, it was as though the restless heav- 
 ing sea was suddenly covered with flame. 
 
 * Look," cried Hettie " how beautiful ! " For with 
 the roselights came shadows of the richest purple. The 
 sun seemed to sink into the water : the day was dead. 
 
 Sir Basil turned to her, wondering in his own misery 
 at the light on her fair face. 
 
 " I came to tell you something, Miss Ray," he said. 
 ** I know it will interest you. I am going away." 
 
 He purposely avoided looking at her. If he had seen 
 the sudden change in her face, the deep anguish, he would 
 not have gone at all. She made him no answer, for the 
 simple reason that her lips had suddenly grown mute. 
 
 >' I have business that compels me to leave," he said, 
 * and I come to say good-l>y fo-night." 
 
 The western wind seemed to grow chill. Hettie'd
 
 fj* A BROKEN WEDDING-RING, 
 
 heart was heavy with pain and fear. He had been so 
 much to her, and her life was so cheerless. She thougnt 
 of her sick father and her hard work, of her joyless, love- 
 less life that he had so suddenly brightened. She thougnt 
 of the happiness that had been hers so short a time, and 
 then, with a passionate burst of tears, she cried, 
 
 M Do not go away ! " 
 
 " I must," he said, briefly. " There is no choice lett 
 to me. I must go." 
 
 He saw the fair head bent untkil it rested on the ivy- 
 leaves. He was only human, and He could bear no more. 
 He drew closer to her. 
 
 " Hettie," he said ' let roa call you Hettie for the 
 first and last time tell me, why do yov shed these tears t 
 Are they for me ? " 
 
 " I am sorry you are going," she sobbed. 
 
 " Are you really so grieved as this ? '* he asked. " Oli, 
 Hettie, can it be true ? What aro I to you ? Why should 
 you care ? " 
 
 " It is quite true that you are nothing to me, hut you 
 have been kind to me, and my i'fe is so lonely.'* 
 
 His heart beat fast with the greatness of his temptation. 
 It was stirred to its very depths by her fair loveliness, her 
 love, and her bitter tears. He constrained himself with a 
 desperate effort " Death before dishonor ! " Great 
 drops stood upon his brow, and his limbs trembled. Ths 
 mad thought come into his mind : if but for once he 
 might take her in his arms, kiss her face, and die I 
 
 " I am glad to have been able in some small way to 
 comfort you, Hettie," he said ; but the restraint he placed 
 upon himself was so great that his voice sounded stern and 
 even harsh. 
 
 * Perhaps," she said, looking up at him through her 
 tears u you will come again ; You have been interested 
 in my poor father. You have enjoyed your visits to our
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ^33 
 
 home. You seem to have no enforced occupation, and to 
 be able to please yourself. You will come again ? " 
 
 41 He could hear how her breath caught at every word 
 There was nothing for it but to tell her the truth, and then 
 she would see that he must go. The autumn wind 
 moaned ; all the light had gone with the sun ; a gray 
 shade had crept over the sea ; the waves rose and fell 
 with a mournful wail which was the forerunner of a 
 storm. 
 
 " Hettie, I will tell you the truth," he said. " Strange 
 fnat there should be a scene like this between us who 
 were strangers some weeks since and you do not even 
 know my name." 
 
 44 No. iJ she said ; I have never heard it. My father 
 always cafls you Glen. It is singular, but in that first hour 
 that we talked together I felt as though I had known and 
 trusted you ail my life." 
 
 44 1 need never tell you my name, Hettie. We must 
 part to-nignt, and we must never meet again. Do not cry, 
 dear. It is harder for me than for you." 
 
 She ciung to nis arm, still weeping. He felt the quick 
 bearing wl her heart, and he stopped yet another minute 
 betore ne said the fatal words which must part them for 
 ever. He felt in that moment that, if this grief of hers 
 were caused by him, he deserved any punishment. 
 
 * Hettie, listen to me, dear. How we have drifted into 
 this matters but little, whether I have been blind or 
 careless matters less ; the fault must be mine. I ought to 
 have resisted the first temptation. After I had seen you 
 that first time in church, I ought never to have seen yog 
 again. My sense, my honor, my conscience, tell me so." 
 
 " But why ? " she cried, in amazement. " I do no* 
 understand you. Tell me why." 
 
 * Because I am engaged to be married; because I an
 
 234 
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 bound by the most solemn pledge ; and, because of this 
 promise, I must go." 
 
 " Why," she said, in a faint, low voice " why must 
 you go ? If it be some one who loves you, and some one 
 whom you love very much, surely she would be kind, and 
 let you stay at least, while my father is so ill. If he were 
 well, it would all be different." 
 
 " Hettie," he said, " I will trust you as I have never 
 trusted even my own heart yet. I will say to you what I 
 have never admitted even to my own thoughts. I ah ! 
 how shall I tell you ? My engagement was less my own 
 voluntary seeking than the consequence of circumstances. 
 I can never explain. I did not understand the nature ot 
 the power of love I knew nothing of it ; but she whom I 
 am to marry loves me. Every arrangement is made foi 
 our marriage ; and oh, Hettie, listen to me ! she loves 
 me, and. if we were parted, she would die. She could not 
 grieve over it and recover ; she would die. I must marry 
 her ; I am bound in honor and in conscience. And let 
 me tell you my mad folly. I have learned to love you. I 
 do love you. I may say it for the first and last time in my 
 life. I love you with the whole love of my life, with the 
 one love of my manhood. I may live many years, but I 
 shall never love any other woman. If Heaven helps me, 
 I will do my duty ; but my happiness dies in the hour I leave 
 you. Now you see that I must go." 
 
 Her head drooped until it lay upon his shoulder, and 
 she whispered something there words that were both life 
 and death to him. 
 
 " Yes, you must go," she said ; " I see it plainly.. 
 There is no help for it ; you must go." 
 
 He wished that he were lying under the gray water, 
 dead ; the pain seemed greater than he could bear. Then 
 her soft whispered words came to him again. 
 
 '* It will be the one dream, the one memory of my life,*
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RINO. 435 
 
 she said. " On the shore of this sweet southern sea I 
 have lived and died. Do many people throw away their 
 lives like this ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell," he replied, drearily, " nor can I tell 
 why Fate has treated us so cruelly. If I had been free 
 when I met you, Hettie, you are the one woman I should 
 have chosen to be my wife." 
 
 " And I," she said, in a voice sweeter than the cooing 
 cf dove " I should have loved you." 
 
 " It seems to me," went on Sir Basil, " as though we 
 stood on either side of an open grave." 
 
 " That which divides us is deeper than a grave," he 
 said, with a slight shudder. " I shall never hear the 
 sound of the waves again without thinking of this." 
 
 " Nor shall I. A man should be ashamed to confess 
 cowardice ; but I own to you, Hettie, I hardly know how 
 to take up the burden of life again." 
 
 The sweet whispered words gave him strength. 
 
 " We shall pass out of each other's life," she said. 
 * Even that will be better than meeting always to suffer 
 pain. After to-night, we shall see each other no more." 
 
 " It seems hard," he cried, bitterly, setting his teeth 
 with the air of a desperate man, " though it is better for 
 you and better for me that it should be so." 
 
 Then, as he was leaving her for ever, the temptation 
 became too great. He clasped his arms round her, and 
 gathered her to his heart. Once, twice, thrice he kissed 
 her pale, sweet face, as one kisses the face of the best- 
 beloved before the coffin-lid is closed. In silence then he 
 put her away from him ; in silence she sat where he had 
 left her ; and he went away over the great hill, which rose 
 like a huge barrier between himself and. that which was 
 dearest to him on earth.
 
 236 <* BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE party at Dene Abbey broke up. Sir Basil went 
 home to Glen, where he resolved to devote himself to work, 
 in order to drive far from him all memories of the night 
 that stood out, a clear and distinct picture, from the re- 
 mainder of his life. The other guests departed to different 
 parts of the kingdom. The duke and duchess went on the 
 Contment ; Sir Arthur Hatton and his beautiful niece re- 
 turned to Brentwood. 
 
 The duchess, who had a warm and sincere affection 
 for Leah, was troubled about her. She could not help 
 suspecting that something was wrong between the lovers, 
 for she had seen Sir Basil, on the evening before he left, 
 with such a strange expression on his face. But then 
 Leah seemed happy. The duchess, than whom no more 
 kindly woman ever lived, decided that, if she were in the 
 general's place, she should hurry on the marriage. She 
 had an uncomfortable feeling that something unpleasant 
 would happen if this were not done. 
 
 As for Lead, her fears and forebodings had vanished. 
 Basil, of his own free will, had returned to Glen in order 
 to hasten the preparations for their marriage. That being 
 the case, she could hardly charge him with want of love ; 
 she had made herself unhappy with fancies. When the 
 Duchess of Rosedene had said good-by to her, she had 
 added : " I shall be back for your marriage, Leah, in the 
 spring ; not all the lions of Europe would keep me from 
 that." Leah's lovely face had brightened at the words. 
 
 The time was drawing near now in which she would be 
 united for evermore to the one man wnom she loved so 
 passionately. A few more weeks of the changing autumn,
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 237 
 
 and then would come winter; the spring would soon 
 follow, and then there would be no more parting, no more 
 sorrow. They would be together until Death divided 
 them. 
 
 During these days the memory of her sister grew less 
 clear and distinct to Leah ; the past was like a dream to 
 her she lived entirely in the present, father, sisters, the 
 many places she had called home, the troubles and humilia- 
 tions of her early life, had faded away. Leah Ray, who 
 was to have been a " female lecturer," " a prophetess 
 among the people," and Leah Hatton, the famous beauty 
 and heiress, were two very different people. 
 
 The general had told her to spare no expense. She 
 was to have a trousseau fit for a queen. The fortune that 
 Sir Arthur had given to her was to be made her own by 
 marriage deedg and settlements. From all these splendors 
 Leah would steal away to look at what was most precious 
 to her the golden wedding-ring lying in the little morocco 
 case ; the ring that had been taken from so many dead 
 fingers, that had held so many living hopes, and that she 
 was to wear for the rest of her life. She cared more for 
 that solitary treasure than for all else that belonged to 
 her. 
 
 As they journeyed home from Dene to Brentwood, Sir 
 Arthur saw more clearly than ever how entirely his niece's 
 heart was given to Sir Basil. He was even amused, al- 
 though he did his best to hide his amusement. No matter 
 on what subject the conversation began, it turned always 
 to Sir Basil. He might discuss the autumn woods, the old 
 gray churches, the pretty homesteads, anything and every 
 thing but she managed always to bring Sir Basil in at 
 the end. He laughed quietly to himself, thinking the ways 
 of lovers very wonderful ways. 
 
 <l Do you think Sir Basil will come over to Brer twood 
 to-night ? '"' was the most eager question she asked.
 
 ^38 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING 
 
 " How long has he been away ! " said the gene*-!. 
 
 " Four days," replied Leah. 
 
 " Then I should say most decidedly that we shall find 
 him waiting for us at the station." 
 
 He was right. Sir Basil had ridden over to the station 
 at Arley, intending to go back with them to Brentwood. 
 
 There is surely nothing so pathetic as a great love 
 nothing so beautiful or so sad. Leah's face was a picture 
 to see when her eyes fell on her lover. 
 
 Sir Basil had resolved to do his best. There should 
 be no more loitering in the pleasant paths of temptation for 
 him. He would honestly try to make the girl who loved 
 him happy. When between her brilliant, beautiful face 
 and his own there rose the shadow of a pale, sweet face 
 drowned in tears, he turned resolutely away ; he would not 
 see it. 
 
 Leah thought that he looked very ill, pale, worn, and 
 exhausted. 
 
 " You wanted me to take care of you," she said. 
 " What have you been doing to yourself, Basil ? I shall 
 not let you leave us again. You look as though you had 
 been ill. 
 
 " I am well enough, Leah ; you need not be anxious 
 about me, I have been busy. I find that it does not do to 
 be long from home. My land-steward is one of the be; I 
 men I could have for my purpose ; but there is no ma^ 
 living can take the whole responsibility of an estate frcu. 
 its owner. I am glad you have returned, Leah ; now v/'_* 
 shall have some weeks, at least, of peace." 
 
 He spoke in the tone and with the manner of one tri -.'; 
 beyond endurance ; and again it struck Leah how strangely 
 and sadly he was altered. 
 
 There was a warm welcome for the travellers at Brent- 
 wood ; every one seemed delighted. The household were 
 all in grand array, ready to receive them ; the fine old
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 339 
 
 mansion seemed to have put on its brightest look to wel- 
 come them. Then Sir Arthur, Leah, and Sir Basil sat 
 down to dinner. They found it a great change from the 
 large party that had gathered round the dinner-table at 
 Dene Abbey. 
 
 -- After all," said the general, " it is impossible to 
 live in a crowd. One requires quiet every now and then." 
 
 On this occasion Leah looked more lovely, in Sir 
 Arthur's eyes, than she had ever looked in her magnificent 
 toilets at Dene. She wore a dress of rich, white lace, with 
 ribbons of pale lemon color, a magnificent pomegranate 
 blossom in her dark hair, and in the bodice of her dress 
 a toilet that suited her to perfection. She had never 
 looked happier. The sense of being at home again, the 
 fact of having Basil with her, of knowing that he had been 
 working hard so as to bring the time of their marriage 
 nearer, the recollection that she should not leave Brenr- 
 wood again until she left it as his wife all these things 
 made her wonderfully and unutterably happy. 
 
 Sir Basil's heart was moved when he looked at her ; 
 she so well deserved the greatest love that any man could 
 give her. And he ? Ah, if Heaven would but take from 
 him the memory of the pale sweet face drowned in tears ! 
 If he could forget that for one half-hour in his life he had 
 known what true happiness was ! 
 
 After dinner, under the pretense of looking at an ac- 
 cumulation of business letters, but in reality to indulge in 
 ten minutes' slumber, the general went for half an hour to 
 his study, and Leah and Sir Basil were left together. A 
 sense of the cruel wrong that a loveless marriage would be 
 to her, came over the baronet ; and he vowed to himself 
 that he would make amends to her by increased kindness, 
 by studying her wishes in every way. He little dreamed 
 how keenly and clearly the eyes of love saw. He would 
 put an end to all doubts at once ; better a thousano
 
 240 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 times to fix his chain so tightly that he could not eve 
 move it. 
 
 Leah was standing against the carved mantel-piece in 
 the drawing-room ; a bright fire burned in the grate, the 
 lamps were lighted, and a half-golden radiance from thera 
 filled the room and fell on the queenly head with its crown 
 of rich dark hair, on the beautiful face that was transfig- 
 ured with love and happiness, and on the white graceful 
 throat and rounded arms. The fine white lace swept the 
 floor. A prince might have been proud to woo this girl 
 for his wife ; her beauty and grace would have charmed 
 any man. Perhaps, out of the whole wide world, thjs man 
 who was to marry her was the only one who would have 
 fooked on her loveliness without emotion. 
 
 He went up to her, and put his arm round her waist. 
 He was not given to caressing, and Leah raised her face 
 with an expression of half-amused wonder. 
 
 " I want to ask you a question, Leah," he said, gently, 
 " What day shall we choose for our wedding-day ? 1 
 shall leave it entirely to you, dear," he continued. " We 
 arranged that the wedding should take place in the spring 
 in what month shall it be ? " 
 
 Something in his tone arrested her at. "ntion ; his voice 
 was not musical with love, but earnest, as though he 
 weighed each syllable. She looked at him keenly ; he 
 was calm, with a thoughtful expression on his face ; there 
 was no rapture, no warmth. She could not tell why, but 
 in that moment her heart chilled ; then she reproached 
 herself for it. He could give her no greater proof of love 
 than this that he asked her to be his wife. Why should 
 she find fault with the manner of his asking ? Yet she 
 wished that there had been more passion in his words. 
 
 " May marriages are unlucky, so people say," he con- 
 tinued. " The violets bloom and the trees begin to bud 
 In April. Shall it be in April, Leah ? "
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. j 4l 
 
 She put her arms around his neck and raised her face 
 to his ; the love that shone in her eyes might have melted 
 a heart of stone. 
 
 " Are you quite sure that you wish it then, Basil ? * 
 she asked, anxiously. 
 
 " I am quite sure," he replied, with more firmness and 
 greater tenderness. 
 
 "Then it shall be just as you will," she replied ; and 
 they parted that night with the distinct understanding that 
 the marriage was to take place in April. 
 
 " You have the wedding-ring, Leah ? " said Sir Basil. 
 
 " Yes, I have it iu sale-keeping," she replied, with a 
 happy smile. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 So the wedding-day was fixed, and in Leah's future 
 there did not seem to be one cloud. Any one, on hearing 
 of what awaited her, would have pronounced her to be one 
 of the happiest girls on whom the sun shone. Beauty, 
 riches, honor, love every gift with which life and fortune 
 can crown their favorites was hers. 
 
 There were times when she forgot all her troubles, both 
 past and present, when the faint shadows died, and the 
 sun of her love and happiness shone out in full and per- 
 fect day ; then again the clouds of doubt gathered, and her 
 disturbing fancies took tangible shape. 
 
 But in April, with the snowdrops and violets, with the 
 springing leaves and the song of the birds, would come her 
 wedding-day, she said to herself. Sir Basil murt love her, 
 or he would not ask her to be his wife. He was not marry- 
 ing her for beauty ; he had seen fairer women. It was
 
 24 2 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 not for her wealth ; he was rich enough himself. It could 
 be for nothing but love. To her own heart she said that 
 she would be happy ; she would trample under foot all her 
 fancies and thoughts, " vague ideas that knew no form," 
 and give herself up to happiness which should have in it 
 no alloy. 
 
 A week later Sir Basil drove o #er to Brentwood to con* 
 suit Leah about the colors and decorations for her boudoir. 
 In every detail he showed, the st> jngest desire to please 
 her. What he did not give her in devoted or passionate 
 love, he gave her in unremitting a; tendon. 
 
 Glen was in the hands of the decorators. It was many 
 years since the interior had been innovated, and Sir Basil 
 had determined that it should be i fitting shrine for the 
 beautiful woman who was to be ik* mistress. The room 
 that was to be so essentially her own, her boudoir, he was 
 interested in above all. He had laughed when the manager 
 from the well-known firm of Clough & Hewson had waited 
 upon him, and, after some little preliminaries had said 
 that he should be grateful if he could see the portrait or 
 have some slight description of th& lady who was to pre- 
 side over the room. 
 
 "No matter how beautiful the cvJoring of a room may 
 be," he said, " if it does not harmor-ize with the lady for 
 whose use it is, all the beauty is in vain. With walls of 
 the most delicate amber, a blonde lady would be out of 
 harmony altogether." 
 
 Sir Basil smiled and nodded appi. .vingly. 
 
 M The lady who is to inhabit this -particular room is a 
 brunette," he said. 
 
 The manager bowed with a gratified air. 
 
 " You see, sir," he said, " the color ng of a room is like 
 the background of a picture." And Sif Basil had been so 
 struck with the words that he had drivtn over to see Leah 
 upon the point.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 243 
 
 It was a fine morning, and he found his fiancee in the 
 large conservatory, to which an aviary was attached. She 
 was feeding some favorite birds of hers birds of bright- 
 hued plumage. He was a lover of beauty, and he felt that 
 it would scarcely be possible to find a fairer picture than 
 this peerless girl in her simple morning dress of white. 
 The background of rich flowers and foliage threw into bold 
 relief the faultless lines of the graceful figure, even as the 
 white hands looked like snow among the bright-colored 
 hues. He could not help admiring her and telling himself 
 that this peerless \roman was his. There was more tender- 
 ness in the kiss he gave her than there had ever been in 
 any caress of his before. 
 
 At any sign of love from him Leah's heart thrihed 
 with happiness ; and now her face brightened suddenly, as 
 a gray landscape becomes golden under the light of the 
 sun. 
 
 " I have ridden over this morning," he said, " on very 
 important business. The decorators are awaiting instruc- 
 tions concerning your boudoir. I want you to choose the 
 colors yourself ; I will have no other taste consulted but 
 your own." 
 
 " I saw a very pretty boudoir at Lady Daventry "s last 
 year v " she answered. " It was all white, and paneled in 
 gold. The hangings were of white satin with heavy gold 
 fringe and tassels ; the carpet was of thick white velvet^ 
 and the couches and chairs were covered with white satin. 
 If you wish me to consult my own taste, Basil, I should 
 like the same." 
 
 " Nothing could be more beautiful," he said. " How 
 rooms after ". time, seem to partake of the characters of 
 those who Ir'e in them ! I was looking round Glen this 
 morning, and trying to picture you as you will be when 
 you are mistress there. I could fancy you sweeping through 
 the broad ce?ridors and up the marble staircase that
 
 244. <* BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 staircase, by the way, is the most precious thing we have 
 at Glen ; I fancied you standing in the drawing-room, re- 
 ceiving visitors with the same grace as here. I went pur- 
 posely into the breakfast-room that I might try to imagine 
 what it would be like when your dear face shone there, 
 w hen, morning after morning, I should see you there op- 
 posite to me. I thought of the months and years that 
 would pass while we should be together. I wondered 
 what life would bring to us, Leah. There is no limit to 
 thought," he continued. " I tried to foresee what the 
 coming years would be like, Leah if ever, as they passed 
 we should have little quarrels, little coolnesses, as other 
 people do." 
 
 " Never my love never ! " she said. " My will must 
 always submit to yours." 
 
 " I wondered if we should like the same people, make the 
 same friends, share the same tastes. A whole life seemed 
 to pass in review before me. Then I wondered if either 
 one or the other would be stricken down by dangerous 
 illness, and which would die first." 
 
 "I haj5 often wondered which of us would die first, 
 Basil," she said, clinging to him as though not even death 
 should take him away. 
 
 " Leah," he said suddenly, " have you seen a beautiful 
 little poem called ' An Untimely Thought ? ' It is sup- 
 posed to be written by a husband waiting at the foot of the 
 stairs while his wife puts the last finishing stroke to he? 
 toilet. He wonders when and where he shall die, 
 
 * 'I wonder what day of the week ? 
 
 I wonder what month of the year? 
 Will it be midnight or morning ? 
 And who will bend over my bier 5 
 
 " ' What a hideous fancy to come 
 
 As I wait at the foot of the stair, 
 While Lilian gives the last touch 
 To her robe or the rose in her hairl
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 34- 
 
 *" Do I like your new dress Pompadour I 
 
 And do I like you ? On my life, 
 You are eighteen, and not a day more. 
 And have not been six yean my wife I 
 
 * ' Those two rosy boys in the crib 
 
 Upstairs are not ours to be sure! 
 You are just a sweet bride in her bloom, 
 All sunshine and snowy and pure, 
 
 *" As the carriage rolls down the dark street. 
 
 The little wife laughs and makes cheer; 
 But .... I wonder what day of the week I 
 1 wonder what month of the year ? ' " 
 
 Leah listened attentively. 
 
 " It is very sad and very sweet, Basil, Ah, it is a tet* 
 rible thing death ! To think that nothing in the world 
 can save one from it, neither wealth, nor love, nor " 
 
 " Are you afraid of death ? " he interrupted. 
 
 " Yes, I am perhaps more than most people. When 
 I was a little child, I was taken to Westminister Abbey, and 
 was left alone amid the monuments until my friend came 
 back for me. One struck me so much, Basil. I forget the 
 name of the persons in memory of whom it has been erected : 
 I remember only the subject a young and beautiful wife 
 clasped in her husband's arms, and Death, in terrible guise, 
 trying to snatch her from him ant! drag her into his hideous 
 den. I was greatly impressed with it. Child as I was, I 
 thought how horrible, how strong death must be, when ever* 
 the love of her husband could not keep a wife safe in his 
 arms. I think that was the first time I ever felt afraid of 
 death. Oh, Basil, now that I am so happy, I do not want 
 to die ! " 
 
 "My dearest Leah, I hope there is no question of it. 
 What makes you think and speak of death, when I have 
 come purposely to tell you about our home ? " 
 
 "It is your fault," she replied, half laughingly. "You 
 would recite those lines, and you wondered which would 
 die first."
 
 846 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING, 
 
 " Well, if I am to blame, I will soon make amends by 
 changing the conversation." 
 
 She was looking at him with grave sweet eyes. 
 
 ." Basil," she said, " you tell me that in your fancy you 
 saw me moving about the rooms at Glen, and taking my 
 place in them. One strange thing with me Is that I can 
 never do that I can never imagine myself at Glen. I 
 never go beyond my wedding-day ; the life that lies beyond 
 it is all dark and blank. I think of you, and of being with 
 you ; but I see no further. I never behold a future in 
 which we are both here at Brentwood or at Glen. Do you 
 not think it strange ? " - 
 
 " You are fanciful, Leah," he replied. Yet her words 
 touched him. 
 
 " Is that it ? I have often wondered in my own mind 
 how it was. You are sure it is fancy, Basil not presenti- 
 ment ? " 
 
 He laughed at the idea that possessed her. 
 
 " I do not believe in presentiments, Leah," he said ; 
 " fancy and presentiment are to my mind the same thing." 
 
 " I do not think so," she replied. " I have heard of so 
 many forebodings that have been realized." 
 
 " Has one of your own ever been realized ? " he asked. 
 
 And she was compelled to answer " No." 
 
 " Before I met you, Basil," she said, " I did dream at 
 times of the future ; now I have a weird sensation that the 
 end of everything comes with the evening of the day, and 
 the morning begins a new life." 
 
 " I was much amused, remarked Sir Basil, " at hear- 
 ing that Lady Drummond had cured her youngest daughter 
 of a terrible love-fever by the simple expedient of giving 
 her a very difficult piece of needlework to do. I must 
 follow her example in this respect, Leah. I must give you 
 some problems in Euclid to solve ; some chapters
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 247 
 
 to study anything to clear these cobwebs from your 
 brain." 
 
 " There is one thing that I would much rather you 
 gave me," she said, shyly. 
 
 " What is it, Leah ? " she asked 
 
 There was no answer. 
 
 " Leah, what is it ? " he repeated. 
 
 And she looked up at him with a beautiful flush on hef 
 face. 
 
 " I honestly believe you mean this," he replied, bend- 
 ing over her, and kissing her lips. " Did you mean that, 
 dear ? " 
 
 " It is better than history or Euclid," she replied, 
 laughingly. 
 
 And then the bright-hued birds and the fragrant blos- 
 soms were witnesses of a pretty little scene in which sweet 
 sunny laughter and tenderly-whispered words were inter- 
 mingled. 
 
 It was one of the happiest hours in Leah's life. Her 
 proud beauty, her picturesque surroundings, the love-light 
 in her dark eyes, the subtle fragrance, the devotion to him- 
 self with which each word of hers was instinct, all charmed 
 Sir Basil for a few passing minutes. The phantom of his 
 love with the pale face and the golden hair was forgotten ; 
 he was carried away by Leah's passionate devotion. 
 
 He left her standing there amidst the birds and the 
 blossoms, her eyes full of love, her face all tenderness ; 
 and as he saw her in that moment he never saw her again.
 
 a4 B ^ BROKEN 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIIL 
 
 THE last autumn flower had died, and over the earth 
 had fallen the white robe of winter. Glen was still in the 
 hands of the workpeople, and Sir Basil was busied with 
 the coming election, his marriage, and his estate. Leah 
 was also engrossed in preparations ; while the general re 
 joiced to see his niece so active and happy. 
 
 A sudden interruption came to this state of things. 
 
 One morning the general came down full of bright 
 plans and anticipations. His favorite beverage was a cup 
 of coffee, made from the fragrant freshly-ground berries ; 
 Leah, on the contrary, preferred drinking orange pekoe 
 from a cup of priceless Sevres. Sir Arthur discussed his 
 breakfast, talked about the party of visitors whom he 
 would like to gather under his roof for Christmas, about 
 Sir Basil, and how much better he had seemed to be on 
 the previous evening, and finally walked to a table in 
 another part of the room, on which the post-bag was lying. 
 
 It was one of the rules of the household at Brentwood 
 that the letters should never be opened until after break- 
 fast, the general's idea being that, if they contained bad 
 news, it was better to delay it, if good, it would be the 
 better for keeping. He took the bag in his hands, all 
 unconscious that it held for him and for others a certain 
 doom. 
 
 " We have numerous correspondents this morning," he 
 said, turning out the contents. 
 
 Some of the letters contained invitations and news from 
 friends ; others were circulars and charitable appeals. At 
 last the general came to one envelope that seemed to 
 puzzle him. He looked at the post-mark, and saw the
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 24$ 
 
 word -' Southwood." Who could have written to him from 
 Southwood ? That was the little town on the slope of the 
 great green hill near Dene Abbey. He had driven through 
 it once or twice ; but he was not aware that he knew any 
 one living there. 
 
 " Leah," he cried, " here is a strange thing a letter 
 from Southwood ? That is the place by the sea, is it 
 not ? " 
 
 " Yes," she replied ; " but I have never been there. I 
 did not know that you had any correspondents in that part 
 of the country, uncle." 
 
 " Nor did I," he said. " This letter is written by a 
 lady, I am sure. It is an easy, elegant, flowing hand." 
 
 " The quickest way to see from whom it comes is to 
 open it and look at the signature," laughed Leah. " You 
 do not seem to have thought of that, uncle." 
 
 He joined in her laughter, then opened the envelope, 
 drew out the letter, and read it. As he did so, all the 
 color died from his face and the smile from his lips. He 
 perused it slowly and carefully, then looked at Leah. 
 Alarmed by the expression of his eyes, she rose from her. 
 seat by the fire and went over to him. 
 
 41 This concerns you, Leah," he said. " It is written by 
 your sister Hettie." 
 
 " By Hettie ! " she ~ned. " Oh, uncle, what is it ? May 
 I read it ? " 
 
 But, when she held the letter in her hands, her agitation 
 was so great that she could not see the words. 
 
 " Tell me what it is about 1 " she cried, in distress. " I 
 cannot read I cannot see ! What is it about, uncle ? " 
 
 The general looked at her with pitying eyes. 
 
 * Let me keep it until you can read it, Leah. Carry 
 >our mind back, my dear, to the afternoon when I first saw 
 you to the little gloomy room where the bars of yellow 
 sunlight fell upon the floor. Do you remember it, Leah ? "
 
 250 <4 BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 41 Yes," she cried, with a shudder ; " but why do you 
 speak of it why remind me of it ? " 
 
 " You will hear, my dear. This letter is from Hettie ; 
 and she says that your father is very ill, and wishes to see 
 you." 
 
 Leah clasped her hands in dismay. 
 
 " Oh, uncle," she cried, " I had so nearly forgotten that 
 terrible past, that dreadful life ! " 
 
 " I know, my dear," he said, soothingly, " We have 
 kept to our compact well ; the name of Ray has not been 
 mentioned between us. But this letter is the result of my 
 words. I said Heaven forgive me if I spoke too harshly f 
 that in life I would have nothing to do with him, but that,, 
 if, when he came to die, he wanted you, you should go to 
 him. You remember ? " 
 
 " Yes," she replied, shuddering, " I 'emember it. You 
 said : ' If you are dying, and send for her, she shall come/' ; * 
 
 " Those were my words," said the general, " and I mus? 
 carry them out. Your father is dying, Leah, and he wants 
 to see you." 
 
 She hid her face in her hands, and he saw that she 
 trembled. 
 
 " You shall not go unless you wish," he said. 
 " I must go," she replied, looking up at him in troubled 
 despair. " Duty, conscience, honor, all tell me I must go , 
 but I shrink from it. Oh, uncle, I hated that old life so 
 much ! " 
 
 " You need not think of it. You will never go back to 
 it. Leah ; and you shall not go to Southwood now unless 
 you wish it." 
 
 " I must go," she said, more to herself than to him. 
 M He is my father I must go. Let me see what Hettie 
 says, uncle. I have longed to speak of her. It eases my 
 heart even to utter her name."
 
 A BROKEN WEDDTNG-RtNG. 351 
 
 Silently the general placed the letter in her hands, and 
 watched her face as she read. 
 
 Simple and pathetic were the words addressed by Het- 
 tie to the general. She seemed to think that the presence 
 of death levelled all distinctions. She addressed him as 
 " Dear Uncle," and went on to say that all through the 
 summer her father had been very ill, but that lately he had 
 been much worse. Ten days since the doctor had thought 
 him dying. Since then he had been in a terrible state 
 dying, yet could not die. " Last night " he had called her 
 to him, and told her that he could not die until he had seen 
 Leah once more. "I cursed her, Hettie, when she left 
 me," he had said, " and I want to take the curse from her. 
 I cannot die until I have seen her. Write to the general, 
 and ask him to bring her hither." 
 
 " I must go," Leah repeated, with white lips, turning to 
 the general. " How horrible, uncle ! My poor father did 
 curse me, but they were only words. I have never been 
 frightened about it ; have you ? " 
 
 '' I have never liked even to think of it, my dear," he 
 replied. " If any one was to blame in that terrible busi- 
 ness, it was myself. I was too harsh, but I thought I was 
 carrying out my dead sister's wish that was all. Every- 
 thing looks different in the presence of death ; and yet I 
 do not see how I could have acted otherwise. Will you go 
 at once, Leah ? " 
 
 " Do you really believe that he is dying ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes," replied the general ; " I see no reason for 
 doubting what Hettie says. I do not think he would ask 
 to see you, Leah, if he had any chance of life." 
 
 " Then we must go at once," she said. " But was there 
 ever anything so strange, uncle ? It looks to me more than 
 a coincidence that they should have lived at Southwood 
 and we at Dene Abbey, so near them, yet never once have 
 met. Is it fate or Providence?"
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 "Providence," replied the brave old soldier. "1 do 
 not believe in fate. I remember, when we were at Dene, 
 hearing the duke speak of some worn-out old politician who 
 lived at Southwood. I need hardly say that I never for 
 one moment dreamed that it was Martin Ray." 
 
 Leah shrank back with a shudder at the sound of the 
 name. 
 
 " Do not think me unfeeling, uncle," she said, " but I 
 suffered so terribly in my early life that I cannot bear even 
 to recall it. And to think that I have been so near Hettie 
 and never knew it ! " 
 
 Sir Arthur took out his watch and looked at it. 
 
 " We can catch the midday express," he said, ' if we 
 lose no time." 
 
 But Leah seemed hardly conscious of his words. 
 
 " Uncle," she said, " there was a time when Hettie and 
 I had but one heart and one life between us. How strange 
 that we were so near, with only the great green hill divid- 
 ing us ! I wonder what Hettie is like." 
 
 " She was a very sweet girl," said the general. " I 
 wish she had chosen to come with us ; but I admired then, 
 as I do now, the faithful, tender heart. We must not lose 
 time, Leah," he added. 
 
 But there was something in his niece's face that made 
 him stop and draw her closer to him, that made him kiss 
 her again and again, while he said, 
 
 " You are the child of my heart, Leah ; and you, who 
 came with me, are the one I shall always love best in this 
 world. Go now to your room to dress, and I will get ready 
 at once. Stay we must think of Basil. Write a note to 
 him one of the grooms shall take it over and tell him 
 that we have been sent for quite suddenly to the sick-bed 
 of a relative, but that we expect to return in a day or two. 
 Do not say where we are going. I will tell him the whole 
 story on my return. I intended to tell him in the course
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 253 
 
 of a few days ; it is time he knew. How surprised he wilJ 
 be!" 
 
 So they parted ; but, for the first time since he had 
 adopted Leah, there was in the general's mind a slight 
 sense of disappointment he could hardly tell why 01 
 wherefor. He would have felt happier had she shown 
 more pity, more affection for Martin Ray, more anxiety to 
 be with him ; and yet it was by his wish that she had left 
 him. And in Leah's heart there was something like 
 a feeling of resentment or jealousy. It seemed to her that 
 he admired Hettie for staying with her father quite as 
 much as he had admired her for coming away. 
 
 "Perhaps," said Leah to herself, "he thinks Hettie 
 the more noble of the two. He does not know. There 
 are many ways of showing true nobility. I may find one 
 some day." 
 
 They reached the station just in time to catch the mid- 
 day express that would enable them to arrive at South- 
 wood long before night. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 The sullen, gray light of a dull November sky fell over 
 land and sea. The great hill that lay between the wide 
 woodlands and Southwood looked brown and arid. The 
 tide was high, and the huge waves boomed at the foot of 
 the rocks. It was a chill, uncomfortable evening, with a 
 cold wind blowing, the clouds falling lower and lower and 
 threatening rain, a mist spreading from sea to land, clinging 
 to the trees and hedges, and lying like soft clouds on the 
 grass. There was no sound of a bird's song, no glimpse of 
 a flower. Even the pretty little town of Southwood looked 
 rjuli and gloomy, AJ1 around it was tili and sUent- ^
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 cept for the sullen roar of the waves and the wailing of 
 the wind. All the sweet summer sounds and scents were 
 dead ; autumn reigned supreme. 
 
 Inside Martin Ray's cottage the scene was even more 
 dreary than without. There is no room so sad as that in 
 which a man has lain day after day, week after week, dying. 
 When there is any hope in the nursing, it is not so dreary. 
 There is the prospect of a pleasant termination ; there is the 
 looking forward to a time when all the paraphernalia of medi 
 cine will be done away with. But in this case there was no 
 such hope. The ] ->ng illness must end in death, and death 
 was long in coming. It seemed at times as though noth- 
 ing but the fierceness of hate kept life in Martin Ray ; all 
 that he had disliked, scorned, denounced in his youth and 
 his strength, was more odious than ever to him now. 
 More than once his doctor, looking at the stern, vindictive 
 face, said to himself, 
 
 " It is strong feeling that keeps him alive." 
 
 That Hettie was a model nurse, as she had always 
 been a model daughter, surprised no one. She never 
 seemed to think of herself ; she scarcely slept or rested, for 
 the dying man was afraid to be left alone. 
 
 "You must never leave me, Hettie," he said to her 
 one day. " While you are in the room some of my old 
 thoughts of the angels come to me ; the moment you go I 
 have a horrible fancy." 
 
 " What is it ? " she asked, touching the gray hair with 
 her white fingers. 
 
 " When you leave the room, it fills with huge black 
 dogs, their flaming eyes all fixed on me. I know it is fancy, 
 because they only bark. They never touch me." 
 
 She could only bend over him in loving pity, and mur- 
 mur sweet words of comfort. 
 
 It was a terrible death-bed to Hettie. It would have 
 been terrible to any girl, but it was more so to her, for she
 
 A BROKEN- WEDDING-RING. 255 
 
 was so sensitive, so spiritual and the man dying there so 
 sadly the reverse. She never forgot those long night- 
 watches. It was horrible to turn from the lines of light 
 that lay upon the sea to the gray head tossing and turning 
 on the pillow, to the pallid lips whose utterances were at 
 times so terrible 
 
 One night Martin called her to him. 
 
 " Send for Leah," he said ; " I cursed her, and I can- 
 not die." 
 
 He knew nothing of the beauty of patience, of the value 
 of suffering ; all that he knew was that his time was come, 
 and yti he could not die. 
 
 The doctor had wondered at his prolonged life ; and 
 once ah ! would Hettie ever forget that terrible day ? 
 the kind-hearted rector of Southwood had made his way to 
 the sick man's room. Hettie never knew all that passed ; 
 but, when he was leaving the house, the good clergyman, 
 with a shocked, horrified expression on his face, said, 
 
 " Pray for your father H wants all the mercy Heaven 
 can give him. It is nothing buc ha f ^e4 that keeps him 
 alive." 
 
 It was a lonely and terrible task, nursing that stern, 
 cynical man. Hettie grew paler and thinner every day, 
 Deep in her heart lay the secret of her lost love. She had 
 put it out of sight ; there would be time enough to think of 
 it, and mourn over it, when her father was gone. Her mind 
 and thoughts were so much engrossed with him that she 
 ftd not dwell, as she would otherwise have done, on the 
 fact that Leah would soon be with her Leah, whom she 
 uad seen last in all the splendor of her magnificence. 
 
 The bleak November evening wore on, the gray head 
 and the white face turned restlessly to and fro. 
 
 " Hettie, is she come yet," was the hoarse cry from 
 Martin's lips. "Your sister deserted me, and I cursed 
 Her, and I want to take the curse away from her."
 
 256 A BROKEN WEDDrNG-RTNG. 
 
 The devoted daughter who had been so true and faith 
 ful to him, who had refused rank and wealth, and had 
 clung to him of her he had nothing to say. He did not 
 thank her for the sacrifice of so much of her fair young 
 life to him ; he accepted all as his due. But in death, as 
 in life, his heart was with his beautiful Leah, whom he , 
 had meant to succeed him. 
 
 The dull, leaden hours passed on. He had no strength ; 
 for many hours he had taken no nourishment. He called 
 Hettie to him. 
 
 " Does a righteous man's blessing ever do any good ? ** 
 he asked, in a thick, hoarse whisper. 
 
 *'Yes," she answered. 
 
 There was no time to stop and think, with those dying 
 eyes fixed on her face. 
 
 "Then a bad man's curse must do harm I " he moaned . 
 and Hettie had no answer for him. 
 
 The evening deepened, silence crept over the land, and 
 the shadow of death grew darker over the cottage. The 
 grim king had drawn one step nearer, and Martin Ray had 
 gathered all his energies together to do battle with him. 
 He spoke to himself, not to Hettie. 
 
 " I will not die until I have seen Leah. What is it I 
 have laid upon her? Something heavy, and black, and 
 bitter. I must take it off. I will not die until she 
 pomes." 
 
 In this the hour of her distress, friends and neighbors 
 were good to Hettie. She was never left alone. But 
 Martin Ray would have no strange women in his room- 
 no nurses, no friendly helpers for him ; and he gave no 
 thought to the terror that his lonely child must feel. 
 
 As this world fell from him and the light of another 
 grew clearer to him, he saw more distinctly the face of his 
 lost daughter. 
 
 " Leah," he cried, incessantly. ** Leah, I want you
 
 A BROKEN 1 WEDDING-RING. 357 
 
 Leah, come to me ! Leah, I cannot die ! O, Heaven, I 
 
 cannot die ! " 
 
 Hettie had borne so much that she did not even cry 
 out when he turned his angry despairing, dying face to 
 hers, and said, 
 
 " Why did you not go ? Since one must leave me, why 
 did you not go and leave her with me ? " 
 
 They were cruel words that her tender heart did not 
 resent even then. She excused him even to herself, say- 
 ing .that he did not know what he was uttering, he did not 
 understand. The cold hand of Death pressed him more 
 closely. There was something of dignity in the way in 
 which Martin Ray threw out his arms in despair. 
 
 " I will not die until I have seen Leah ! " he cried. 
 " I know I have read what the curse of a father brings 
 to a child. She did not merit it. I must take it away. If 
 I do not, her life will be spoiled. Hettie, give me some-- 
 thing that I may live until she comes. I can hear horses 
 galloping up the hill I hear carriage-wheels ! I hear the 
 rush of the wind, the roar of the sea ; I can hear oh, Leah, 
 make haste ! " 
 
 But Hettie knew that no carriage could drive up to 
 their cottage, and she tried her best to tranquillize him. 
 his cries grew feebler ; the incessant beating of his hand 
 on the pillow stopped ; there was ? Curious look on his 
 face, gray, livid, and startled. 
 
 She knelt down by his side and took one of the numbed 
 hands in hers, and laid it upon her head. 
 
 " I have loved you and served you faithfully, father" 
 she said ; " have you no blessing for me ? * 
 
 The hand lay there like lead ; the dying eyes looked 
 into hers, and in them she read a terrible craving. 
 
 " I want Leah ! " he muttered. 
 
 Suddenly the gray shades changed into darkness ; and 
 Hettie, seeing a new and terribly strange expression on
 
 as g A BROKEN WEDDING-RtNG. 
 
 the worn face, rose from her knees with a startled cry. 
 The women waiting below came running up ; and as they 
 did so the sound of some unusual stir below told that Sir 
 Arthur and Leah had arrived. At the same moment some, 
 thing like a shudder passed over the dying man. The 
 next instant a soul had gone forth to meet its Judge, and 
 the Angel of Death sheathed his sword Martin Ray was 
 dead. 
 
 It was little wonder that Hettie, dazed and stunned, fell 
 forward upon the quiet heart that was to love and to hate 
 no more. 
 
 When she opened her eyes again, it was Leah who held 
 her in her arms. One minute had passed, yet to Hettie it 
 seemed many hours. 
 
 ' Too late ! " she heard some one say. Then Leah 
 placed her gently in the chair, and went over to her father. 
 she knelt down by his side, and a bitter cry came from her 
 lips. 
 
 " I am too late," she said " too late ! Oh, Hettie, he 
 has never taken that cruel curse from me ! I am too 
 late ! " 
 
 She took the cold, motionless hand in hers, and the 
 silence in the room was broken only by her sobs. All the 
 past, with its great dread, and her great horror of it, passed 
 over her as she looked at his face the face that would 
 never smile or frown upon her again. 
 
 The general, watching the scene, assured himself that 
 it was better father and daughter had not met. There 
 could have been nothing pleasant in the words thay would 
 have exchanged ; there would have been no real affection. 
 Yet he had a lingering, half-supersitious wish that the 
 terrible curse Martin Ray had hurled at Leah when they 
 parted had been taken back. 
 
 " I am too late ! " sobbed Leah. " Oh, Hettie, if I had 
 but spoken to him once ? I have often thought of him
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 255 
 
 often been sorry ; and now I am too late ! Tell me if he 
 spoke about me, if he said anything, if he wished to see 
 me ? He was my own father, after all. 
 
 Sir Arthur withdrew, signing to the women to follow 
 him. It was better to leave the sisters alone with their 
 dead. 
 
 An hour afterward, when he went back, he found them 
 locked in each other's arms, and he vowed to himself that 
 they should not be parted again. Death had softened his 
 heart, and had inclined it to the fair and devoted child of his 
 dead sister. He resolved that, if she would, she should 
 come away with him, and leave him no more. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 DEATH has a majesty of its own ; and General Sir Arthur 
 Hatton, who had shown scant courtesy to Martin Ray 
 when alive, who had indeed detested him, now that he was 
 dead, showed due honor and respect to his memory. He 
 remained at the cottage with Leah and Hettie, he attended 
 the funeral, and then the little council was held which de- 
 cided the fate of so many. 
 
 There was no sensation when the quiet funeral proces- 
 sion wound its way down the green hill to the pretty church- 
 yard. Few knew that the once popular "Voice of the 
 People" was laid to rest here, that the man who had taught 
 sedition and treason, whose voice had been as a flame of 
 fire, slept his last long sleep in the quiet churchyard. The 
 waves sang his requiem. 
 
 Martin Ray had left nothing but his name, In one 
 sense his daughters were pleased that it was so. It dis- 
 proved, they thought, most conclusively many of the
 
 26o * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 charges brought against him. He had not made money 
 out of his starving admirers. 
 
 The funeral was over, and the general and his two 
 nieces sat in the little parlor, where the blinds were still 
 drawn and the gloom of death still lingered. Now that 
 the last solemn rites had been performed, the general was 
 anxious to return home ; it was of no use spending even 
 another hour in Southwood. But he wanted to take Het- 
 tie back with him. 
 
 At their first interview he had been so entirely captiva- 
 ted by Leah that he had not taken much notice of Hettie. 
 He remembered only that she was fair, sweet, and win- 
 some, and that although he was angry and irritated with 
 her, he could not help admiring her faithful love and de- 
 votion to one of the most unprepossessing of men. He 
 had taken her sister away, and had forbidden all mention 
 of her name ; but his anger had been against the girl's 
 father, and not against herself. Now that her father was 
 dead, it seemed to him the most natural thing in the world 
 that he should adopt her. 
 
 He asked her to return with him, to live with him as 
 his daughter, and not to leave them again. He liked her all 
 the better because she was in no hurry to accept the invi- 
 tation. The girl's heart was still sore with the old pain. 
 She could not forget all at once that this man who was 
 willing now to make her his adopted daughter had de- 
 nounced her father in most unmeasured terms ; she could 
 not forget the scene in the gloomy littl ehouse in Manches- 
 ter. In death, as in life, her heart was faithful to her father. 
 Had he lived, she would have refused every overture from 
 Sir Arthur ; as it was, she was with difficulty persuaded 
 even to listen to him. 
 
 On the day of the funeral he asked her what she in- 
 tended to do. She told him that she should live on there 
 at the cottage and continue her teaching. She could al-
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 2 6t 
 
 ways earn enough money for her maintenance. Sir Arthur 
 looked at her, so young, so fair, so refined, and he vowed 
 to himself that it should never be, Then he talked to 
 Leah. He would do nothing without consulting her. Her 
 eyes filled with tears when she heard of his generous 
 proposal. 
 
 " It is the only thing wanting to make my life perfectly 
 happy," she said. " I love Hettie so dearly ! No one will 
 ever know what it cost me to leave her." 
 
 Yet it did not seem sure that Hettie would consent. 
 To live in grand houses, to wear costly jewels and rich 
 dresses, to have every luxury that the world can give, was 
 not much to Hettie. The world could really give her 
 nothing, for she knew it had nothing to give. The gener- 
 al's offer would have been no temptation to her but for her 
 great love for Leah. Sir Arthur was perfectly frank. 
 
 " Leah," he said, " I look upon as my adopted child, as 
 my own daughter. From the moment she turned to me, 
 acknowledging her mother's wish from that moment she 
 has been to me my own. You, Hettie, can never take her 
 place, nor even stand near her in my affections ! " 
 
 To which Hettie, with a slight flush on her fair face, 
 said that she had not the least wish to rival Leah, that she 
 had clung to her father, and that, if the choice were 
 offered to her again, she should do the same thing. 
 
 Sir Arthur was not in the least offended at her words ; 
 he seemed to like her all the better for them. He kissed 
 her, and her face flushed a little at his caress. 
 
 " Come with me, Hettie," he said. " You shall be my 
 daughter. Leah is my heiress ; but I will give you a for- 
 tune." 
 
 " I do not wish any fortune," she answered, simply ; 
 *' I have no use for money. But I do want Leah, 1 would 
 be Leah's maid in order that I might be near her." 
 
 And Sir Arthur thought, as he saw the two sisters em-
 
 262 A BROKEN WEDDING-RTtfG. 
 
 brace each other, that it would be a thousand pities ever 
 to part them again. They were in perfect contrast, yet 
 there was something similar in the two faces. Leah's was 
 proud, Hettie's was tender. Leah was brilliant with the 
 dark beauty of her face, the statuesque grace of her mag- 
 nificent neck and shoulders ; Hettie was all that was 
 most sweet and winsome. Men would probably admire 
 Leah more, but love Hettie best. 
 
 Sir Arthur wished with all his heart that his sister had 
 lived, that she might have seen these two fair women. 
 How proud she would have been of them ! How she 
 would have loved them ! And now they were both alone 
 in the world and quite dependent on him. In her way, 
 Hettie was as deserving as Leah. He would give her a 
 handsome fortune; he could do that without injury to 
 Leah's interests. She might marry well ; or, when Leah 
 had married Sir Basil, this girl, who had been so true and 
 so loving to her father, might prove a comfort to him. 
 Had it been the general's wish alone to make her home at 
 Brentwood, Hettie would have refused ; but she could re- 
 fuse nothing to the beloved sister whom she had loved so 
 well and had lost so long. 
 
 The general said all he had to say, and then went out 
 to smoke a cigar by the sea-wall where Martin Ray and 
 Sir Basil had often stood, leaving the sisters to finish the 
 debate alone. When he had gone, golden-haired Hettie 
 went up to her stately sister. 
 
 " Oh. Leah," she cried, " is there no other way in 
 which we could be together ? After all he said to our 
 poor father I feel that I shall hate to live under his roof 
 and eat his bread. If you would come and live with me, 
 I would work so hard to keep you, and you should never 
 work at alL" 
 
 Leah laughed. How little this good sister of hers knew
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 363 
 
 to what luxury she was accustomed ! She kissed the sweet 
 face. 
 
 " You must not forget, Hettie," she said, " all about 
 our mother. Remember that Sir Arthur represents her. 
 If she were living, if she could speak to us, I am quite sure 
 that she would tell us both that he stood in her place. I 
 can never leave him. Instead of asking me to do that, 
 make up your mind to come and live with me. He is so 
 kind ; we shall be very happy. Oh, Hettie, can you un- 
 derstand how much I have always wanted you ? " 
 
 " Yes, I can, for I was never happy without you. M 
 
 And then Hettie told her sister how she had watched 
 Harbury House, and how she had seen her once 
 at the theatre, and how she had purchased from the 
 footman the bouquet that she had held in her hands. 
 
 Leah's face softened and brightened. 
 
 " Did you really love me so much ? " she asked. " I 
 wish I had known you were so near to me, Hettie; I 
 should have risked a great deal to speak to you. How 
 strange we should be parted as we were ! I could not 
 have stayed. I could never have been what my father 
 desired. Oh, Hettie, do as Sir Arthur wishes come 
 home with us ! You must have suffered terribly. I will 
 make it all up to you. " She caressed the golden head 
 that lay upon her breast ; she kissed the flower-like face. 
 " You are so fair, Hettie, " she said " so graceful, so sweet ! 
 I long to see you dressed in handsome silks and laces. 
 You will be a queen of beauty. I know few women in 
 London so fair as you. " 
 
 " I do not care for that ; I want only to be near you, 
 Leah, where I can see you in the morning and at 
 night, where I can listen to your voice and hear what 
 people say of you. I could never live away from you, 
 again, now that I have found you, Leah. "
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " There is no need for it, Hettie, if you will but listen 
 to reason. " said Leah. 
 
 It was touching to see those two fair women, the 
 lovely faces so near together, the slender arms entwined, 
 the dark head bending over the fair one. Hettie looked 
 up at Leah. 
 
 " I should not like, " she said, " to interfere with your 
 prospects, Leah. You are Sir Arthur's heiress, and it is 
 quite right. I would much sooner have shared my father's 
 poverty than my uncle's wealth. I had my choice, and it 
 does not seem fair for me to interfere with you. " 
 
 " Our uncle is rich enough, Hettie darling, to adopt 
 half a dozen nieces, " her sister replied, tranquilly. 
 " There can be no question of interference with me. 
 Even if there were, and I had to share my fortune with 
 you, believe me, I should be only too happy. You are 
 more to me than any money, Hettie. I imagine that, 
 because you saw me leave a poor father and transfer my 
 affections to a rich uncle, you argue I love money. You 
 are wrong. Had my uncle been poor and my father rich, 
 I should have done just the same, I do not want to 
 speak of it ; but it was the teaching, the life that I dis- 
 liked. I would have done anything to escape from it. It 
 seems to me, Hettie, that Heaven has befriended us. 
 Last year we had no hope, no thought of ever seeing each 
 other again ; now we are offered the same home if you, 
 Hettie, will but lower your pride. I am sure that, if you 
 knew Sir Arthur, you would like him. He has the bravest, 
 truest heart, the noblest soul " 
 
 " He hated my father, " interrupted Hettie, " and he 
 took you from me. " 
 
 " I went of my own free will, " said Leah. " I should 
 have run away, Hettie, if I had not accepted his offer ; 
 and, remember, it was not my father, but his teaching and 
 his belief, that Sir Arthur hated. O, Hettie ! now that we
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 2 6? 
 
 J 
 
 have found each other, do not let us part ! I will bury 
 the past ; you do the same. We are alone in the world ; 
 let us live for each other. There is nothing but pride be- 
 tween us. Hettie, if you love me, you will let that pride 
 die." 
 
 " It is not pride, Leah. Do you not understand ? It 
 seems to me that if I go to Sir Arthur, I am disloyal to 
 my father. " 
 
 " That is only a fancy a morbid fancy. Your path 
 seems to me clear enough. " 
 
 " But, Leah " and the blue eyes anxiously sought the 
 dark ones " I have not had your advantages. I do not 
 see how I can. You and I are quite different now. You 
 are a lady of fashion and rank ; I am only a poor music 
 teacher. " 
 
 " What nonsense, Hettie ! We are sisters ! Can 
 anything undo that ? If you come to regard the matter in 
 its true light, which of us two has led the nobler life you 
 or I ? If there is any unworthiness, it is on my side, not 
 on yours. My pretty Hettie, for months after I had left 
 you, I dreamed of those golden ripples of hair. How 
 strange it was our uncle coming so suddenly and putting 
 before us so terrible a choice ! " 
 
 " I have never repented mine, " said Hettie. 
 
 " Nor have I mine, " declared Leah. " But now the 
 time has come when we may be happy together, if you are 
 willing Hettie. " 
 
 She prevailed at length, but it was after a long strug- 
 gle. Hettie promised to make her home with Sir Arthur 
 and her sister ; and Leah knew that she would keep her 
 word. 
 
 It was arranged that they should go first to London, 
 where a fitting trousseau and mourning could be provided ; 
 and the two sisters left Southwood with their hearts full of 
 love for each other, but each keeping her secret. Leah
 
 266 ^ BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 had not told Hettie of her passionate love, her approach- 
 ing marriage, or the pain which weighed at times so heavily 
 upon her ; nor did Hettie tell Leah of that episode in hei 
 life which was to her like a fair sweet dream. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 THERE was a long animated discussion between the 
 general and Hettie. She was so firmly resolved not to 
 relinquish her name, and Sir Arthur was as fully deter- 
 mined that the name of Ray should never be heard in his 
 house. It was Leah who decided the matter. She repre- 
 sented to Hettie that, if she lived in her uncle's house, if 
 she accepted a fortune at his hands, she was bound in 
 honor to accept it on his conditions. Again Hettie would 
 have held out, and have left him ; but Leah prevailed. 
 Hettie could not resist her " for my sake. " She could 
 refuse nothing to the beloved sister from whom she had 
 been parted so long. 
 
 There was nothing of obstinacy in the tender heart of 
 Hettie, but there was always a quick loving sense that she 
 must do nothing that would seem disloyal to the dead- 
 Had she met the brave, simple old soldier elsewhere, had 
 he been any one except her uncle, she would have liked 
 him at once ; but between her and Sir Arthur stood the 
 memory of the father whom she had loved and he had 
 denounced. 
 
 The more the general saw of Hettie the more he liked 
 her. He thought she was possessed of an extraordinary 
 combination of brilliant qualities. She was loving, gentle 
 and tender of heart, without being weak and undecided ; 
 she was firm and self-reliant, without obstinacy, She lack-
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 3*7 
 
 ed the touch of genius which Leah had, but she was the 
 very ideal of true womanhood. Every hour the general 
 grew more charmed with her. There was no restlessness, 
 no passion in her fair, calm face. 
 
 " Any one on seeing you would think, my dear," said 
 the general to her, " that you had gone through a great 
 deal of trouble." 
 
 " Why ? " she asked, with a smile they were driving 
 then from the station home to Brentwood. 
 
 " I should be puzzled, Hettie, to say why ; but your 
 eyes have a strangely calm expression." 
 
 Leah's dark eyes were fixed anxiously on her. Hettie's 
 thoughts went back to the hour when, under the twinkling 
 stars, she had bidden her lover good-by back to that pain 
 which had been so great that it had stunned her. Now 
 she would have time to realize it all. 
 
 The lovely face grew a shade paler as she answered : 
 
 " My life has been like all other lives, I suppose, 
 uncle," she replied, evasively. 
 
 " All the happiness has to come," interrupted Leah. 
 
 And the general, looking at the fair face, wondered 
 whether, if Hettie had come to him first, he would have 
 loved her best, at present he thought that he should never 
 in this world care for any one as he did for his beautiful 
 Leah. 
 
 They had been two days in London, and had been so 
 incessantly occupied that there had been but few oppor- 
 tunities for conversation, 
 
 The general was strictly just. Leah was his heiress ; 
 for her there were rare jewels, Indian spoils, all that was 
 most costly and magnificent. For Hettie there was posi- 
 tion, and there was luxury, but her fortune would by no 
 means be so extensive. Sir Arthur had soon made up 
 his mind as to what he would be able to give Hettie for 
 her dower ; and the interest on it was to be her own, to
 
 268 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 spend as she liked. All these arrangements were made 
 in detail during their stay in London. It was evident to 
 all who knew them that the general did not intend the 
 two sisters to be on an equal footing. Leah was to be 
 mistress and heiress; Hettie, the newcomer, was to be 
 subordinate to her. It was evident to all that he loved 
 Leah best. 
 
 Before they left London for Brentwood a better under- 
 standing was arrived at between Hettie and her uncle. 
 They were alike in many respects in simple honesty and 
 sincerity, in a certain unworldliness of character that was 
 beautiful in itself, in a certain sense of honor and loyalty 
 that both held most sacred. When Hettie recovered her 
 spirits, and began to talk more freely to the general, he 
 was charmed with her sweet, quaint wisdom ; she knew so 
 much, she was so helpful, so self-reliant, and she excused 
 herself so simply when he taxed her with much learning or 
 scholarship. She had been obliged to read, she said, in 
 order to converse with her father. Such was the love this 
 girl had borne him, so tender, so devoted so true, that the 
 general could not forbid all mention of his name ; and, 
 though Hettie seldom referred to her father, when she did 
 so she was listened to in silence, if not with respect. 
 
 Leah seemed much happier. Her love and her lover 
 were to her far too sacred to be lightly discussed as they 
 drove from shop to shop in search of elegancies and nov- 
 elties in the way of dress. 
 
 " Hettie, " she said, one morning, "I cannot tell you 
 much while we are here, amid the noise and bustle of 
 London, but when we reach Brentwood I shall have some- 
 thing to say to you. " 
 
 In the mean time, they were most happy together. 
 Leah was far too noble for jealousy. She delighted to 
 see her uncle lavish kindness, valuable presents, and at- 
 tentions on Hettie. She was far more pleased than when
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 269 
 
 the like were lavished on herself; and Sir Arthur was 
 proud of her generosity. During these ten days she had 
 heard repeatedly from Sir Basil. Why she said nothing 
 about him she could scarcely have explained, except on 
 the ground that she intended to tell Hettie all the story 
 of her love when they were at Brentwood. The general 
 had said to her one day that it would be better for her to 
 say nothing of Hettie to Sir Basil at present ; she could 
 tell him, however, that he would find another inmate at 
 Brentwood, one whom he would be compelled to like 
 very much, and that Sir Arthur had a communication to 
 make to him when they met again. 
 
 "He will think I am married, " laughed the general. 
 " How surprised he will be ! " 
 
 " Uncle," asked Leah suddenly, do you think that 
 Basil will like Hettie ? " 
 
 He looked at her uneasily for a short time, and then 
 he replied, 
 
 " I should think that he is sure to like her. I do not 
 see how he can help it. The difference between you two 
 sisters is this you take one's heart by storm; Hettie 
 creeps into it unawares. " 
 
 " The real question," laughed Leah, " is, which is 
 likely to remain the longer ? " 
 
 " You would. Loving you, Leah, would be a fever 
 which no man could shake off. Make yourself quite easy 
 about that. Basil is sure to like Hettie. " 
 
 But for a few minutes after he had spoken the words 
 tbe general did not seem quite like himself. 
 
 They returned to Brentwood ; but Sir Basil was n<i 
 there to meet them. He had gone to Glasgow on so.i\fj 
 sudden and unforeseen business, and was uncertain as to 
 the precise day of his return. He had written to Leah, 
 and professed to be most curious about the " new inmate" 
 and the communication that Sir Arthur had to make. It
 
 a7 o A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 was a very kind, affectionate letter, and Leah read it 
 with a flush on her face and tears in her eyes. She kissed 
 it when she had mastered every word in it, and thought, 
 with a glow of warmth in her heart, what a happy life lay 
 before them. And Basil would be sure to like Hettie. 
 Had not her tmcle said so ? and he was clear of sight 
 and keen of judgment. She had no fear; the happy 
 future for which she had longed and hoped was sure to be 
 hers. What of that curse, the memory of which had 
 haunted her and frightened her ? It meant nothing ; it 
 could mean nothing ; and after all, her father had wished 
 every word unsaid. Why need the memory of it pain her 
 now ? There came to her mind a sudden resolution ; she 
 would try to atone to her father by double love and good- 
 ness to Hettie. She determined that when they reached 
 Brentwood she would tell Hettie her love-story before she 
 saw Basil, and afterward they would be such good friends, 
 such dear friends. 
 
 The weather had changed on the day they left Lon- 
 don for Brentwood. There was something like a gleam 
 cf warmth and brightness in the winter sun ; the air was 
 clear, the sky blue. 
 
 Leah was proud of Brentwood. She saw Hettie's fair 
 face flush and her eyes open wide as they drove through 
 the magnificent avenue, and the first view of the grand 
 old mansion burst upon them. 
 
 "Is that Brentwood?" she asked. "O, Leah! I 
 never thought it was like that. It is a palace ! " 
 
 " There is many a palace not half so beautiful, " said 
 the general. 
 
 But Hetfie was thinking that Leah would one day be 
 mistress of it, and her wonder grew. She was honestly 
 pleased that Leah, and not herself was to be so favored. 
 
 " I snould not know what to do with such wealth, " 
 she thought to net self, aud her eyes wandered from the
 
 grand old mansion to the beautiful face of her stately sis 
 ter. What a perfect queen she would make for that per- 
 fect home ! 
 
 She liked the general more because of his warm wel 
 come to her. He kissed her, and bade her welcome to 
 Brentwood, his heart full of honest emotion, his eyes 
 full of tears. Surely, if the little sister whom he had loved 
 and lost years before, knew how fully he had carried out 
 her wishes, she would be pleased with him. 
 
 To Leah's eyes Brentwood had never looked so beau 
 tiful as it did in the gold and gray of this November day. 
 She was supremely happy. She had chosen her sister's 
 rooms they were to be next to her own and they had 
 been prettily arranged for her. Leah showed her all over 
 the house the music-room, with its magnificent carvings ; 
 the grand picture gallery, with its fine collection of 
 paintings ; the large drawing-room, with its beautiful dec- 
 orations ; and whenever Hettie interupted her sister, it 
 was to say how well suited she was to the home over 
 which she was to reign as mistress. 
 
 "We will go through the grounds and gardens to- 
 morrow, " said Leah. " I am tired now. " 
 
 " What would my father have thought of all this splen* 
 dor, Leah ? " remarked Hettie, wonderingly. 
 
 "He would have enjoyed it," was the quiet reply; 
 and Hettie said no more. 
 
 It was late that night before either sister slept the 
 happiness of being together was so intense. 
 
 " It is like reaching a safe harbor after sailing on 2 
 stormy sea, " thought Leah. But she did not hear " the 
 moaning of the harbor bar. "
 
 ;a 4 BROKEN 
 
 CHAPTER XLIL 
 
 A CLEAR frosty day in November, the first after Hettie't 
 arrival at Brentwood, the sun shining brightly and the 
 crisp air full of new life. Leah said that the lovely 
 weather was sent for her sister's benefit, that she might 
 see Brentwood at its best. 
 
 Hettie was made to feel perfectly at home. Her 
 costly outfit was all packed away in the fine old oaken 
 wardrobes; she had arranged her rooms according to her 
 own idea of what was best, and her favorite books were 
 all in their places. The sisters had enjoyed making these 
 arrangements, and the general was happier than he had 
 ever been in his life before. He rejoiced when he heard 
 the sound of the two voices. The happy, sunny laughter 
 was music in his ears ; and, after a day's shooting, he was 
 never so happy in the drawing-room, when dinner was 
 over, as when comparing the tv."> faces, each so beautiful 
 in its own way. 
 
 The general and his nieces were at breakfast together, 
 and an argument arose as to whether three in a family, or 
 in ordinary life, were not better than two. Hettie solved 
 the question at once, 
 
 "Two persons may have the same ideas, the same 
 opinions and thought, and thus may agree perfectly ; but 
 no three persons could possibly be alike. I should think, 
 uncle, " she continued, gayly, " that in our case it would 
 be Leah and yourself who would agree about everything, 
 and I who should naturally oppose both. " 
 
 By this time Sir Arthur and his niece were close 
 friends. They paid due respect and did homage to the 
 fine and noble qualities they saw in each other, Hettie
 
 a BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 373 
 
 Tiad all the gentle, graceful tact of a well-bred, refined 
 gentlewoman; she never touched on topics which she 
 knew annoyed Sir Arthur or irritated him. Once having 
 become friends, they could have lived together forever 
 without one word or shadow of disagreement. Sir Arthur 
 realized that his happiness was decidedly increased. He 
 looked forward with pleasure to the fact that Hettie 
 would be always with them. At first, remembering the 
 long and pleasant conversations that he had had with 
 Leah, he had fancied the new-comer might be in the way. 
 He found that it was just the reverse indeed that she 
 added to their happiness. 
 
 The general had determined that, as soon as they 
 were settled, he would give a series of entertainments, 
 and that Hettie should be introduced to the great world. 
 There need be no concealment, no mystery; she was 
 Leah's sister, and she had been living with a relative who 
 now was dead. He was still desirous, if it could be man- 
 aged, that it should not be known to the world in general 
 that they were the daughters of Martin Ray. 
 
 " I must have a long talk with Leah this morning," 
 he said to himself, " and later on I must see Basil. I 
 have much to say to him ; but the chances are that he 
 will not return to-day. I must wait. " 
 
 When breakfast was over, the general went to his 
 study, where the Times and various other newspapers 
 awaited him. There was no fear of his meeting with any 
 more strong articles denouncing Martin Ray. He could 
 open a newspaper now without hesitation. He was soon 
 engrossed in some article on British rule in India, while 
 the two sisters went out of doors. The morning was too 
 bright and too sunny to be lost. 
 
 " I will show you some of my favorite nooks, Hettie, " 
 said Leah. "I like this terrace better than any other 
 part. See what a magnificent view there is of hill and
 
 * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 dale, stream and meadow, rich farm-land and picturesque 
 woods. All that belongs to my uncle." 
 
 "And will one day belong to you, Leah," returned her 
 sister. " Ah ! my darling, you were born to be a great 
 lady ! Nothing else would have suited you." 
 
 " I should like it all the better it you were to share it," 
 she said, quickly ; and Hettie knew that she was speaking 
 sincerely. 
 
 " I was never intended to be a great lady," declared 
 Hettie. " If I had had my choice in life, I should have 
 preferred a pretty home, neither very luxurious nor very 
 poor a house among flowers and trees and some one to 
 love me to love me very much, more than all the world, 
 I envy no one wealth or fortune cr fame, but I envy every 
 one who is blessed with love." 
 
 For a moment the two girls looked at each other in 
 silence, and then Leah spoke, 
 
 "Come to the end of the terrace, Hettie,'* she said; 
 " from that trellis-work you will see all down the avenue 
 and drive. Sit down in this sunny nook and let us talk 
 here. The morning is not too cold. Do you see all this 
 tangle of faded green and dried branches ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Hettie, wondering. 
 
 " In the summer that presents the finest show of pas- 
 sion-flowers in England ; they grow all over the trellis- 
 work, and even spread down to the terrace below. They 
 ?re of all colors brown, purple and the one I love best, 
 rich scarlet ; they spread like a great vine. Do you like 
 passion-flowers, Hettie ? " 
 
 " Yes, but not so well as roses and lilies. They are too 
 sad and too mystical for me." 
 
 "And I like them best of any flowers. I wonder, Het- 
 tie, what there is in me which inclines me always to lika 
 what is sad better than what is bright and happy ? I won- 
 der if ever I should be perfectly happy ? "
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 275 
 
 " Are you not perfectly happy now, Leah so beautiful, 
 fio rich, so gifted, so beloved ? " 
 
 Leah, thinking of the shadow that she saw at times on 
 her lover's face, answered, 
 
 " No, not perfectly. I do not know why. I have not 
 a tangible sorrow, I have not even a very defined shadow 
 of trouble ; yet I could not from my heart say that I am 
 perfectly happy." 
 
 " How strange ! " said simple Hettie. " Perhaps, Leah, 
 you have one of those natures that nothing on earth can 
 render content. They are so noble, so lofty, the little loves 
 and little cares of this world do not satisfy them, and never 
 will." 
 
 " How strange it seems to me to hear you, Hettie, talk 
 in that fashion ! " said Leah, with a smile ; but she sighed as 
 she thought that, if Basil loved her with the same worship- 
 ping love she gave to him, she would be perfectly happy. 
 
 *' I have read of people,' 1 continued Hettie, " who are 
 never quite happy, who always want something better than 
 they have, who are filled with an indefinite longing, yet 
 who have no idea what they long for. Do you know,Leah, 
 that even when you were quite child I noticed something 
 in your face a story, a shadow, a something quite different 
 from the expression in other faces. You have it now a 
 shadow in your eyes. I cannot express in words just what 
 I mean. You always looked restless, as though you were 
 expecting something which never came." 
 
 " I ought not to have that now," said Leah, " for I 
 have found what I wanted that for which I hungered." 
 
 " Have you, Leah ? " and the blue eyes looked wist- 
 fully into the dark ones, " I have thought so." 
 
 " I brought you here, Hettie, to tell you about it. I 
 would not tell you until I could show you the very spot 
 where I saw him first. I want to tell you, Hettie, because 
 you must love him too. I was sitting here one lovely
 
 27 6 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 summer morning, a morning that stands quite apart from 
 the rest of my life. The sun was shining ; the river in 
 the distance there was like a line of silver ; the sweet 
 morning air stirred the leaves and flowers ; the exquisite 
 passion-flowers were all in bloom, and I stood here among 
 them, looking over this beautiful scene that has scarcely 
 an equal. In the distance I saw my uncle walking up the 
 avenue with a stranger. I looked in the stranger's face 
 and met my fate. Do you understand a swift, keen, subtle 
 love like that, Hettie ? 
 
 " Yes," was the whispered reply. 
 
 " He came on my life as the sun breaks upon the 
 flowers suddenly, swiftly and changed it all. What you 
 say of me is quite true, Hettie ; I had a restless fever on 
 me. My life was all longing nothing satisfied or con- 
 tented me ; but when I saw him, an exquisite calm came 
 over me, like the full shining of the noonday sun on a 
 broad, quiet sea. My life grew suddenly complete. Ah, 
 Hettie, how good it is to be able to talk to you ! I had al- 
 ways thought that I should meet my lover in this way 
 that some day I should come face to face with him, and rec- 
 ognize him. I did so. You will think me strange, I am 
 afraid Hettie ; but, before I had spoken to him, I had said to 
 myself, ' This is my love come from land or sea.' I stood 
 just where you are sitting, Hettie, and I had a cluster of 
 passion flowers in my hand. A great love is like a great 
 wave of the sea ; it sweeps over all before it, and bears 
 everything away. A wave of love swept over me. I be- 
 lieve that, had any one asked me, I could not have told my 
 own name." 
 
 Hettie's fair face grew paler and more wistful. 
 
 " Ah ! Leah," said she, " such a great love could never 
 be a happy one ; it could not end happily ! ' 
 
 Leah smiled, a gentle, tender smile, which spread from 
 icr eyes to her lips.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 277 
 
 M In most cases I grant that that is the case," she re- 
 plied ; " but in mine mine Ah ! Heaven be thanked. 
 
 mine is a happy love, and will have a happy ending ! I 
 was going to tell you, Hettie, t^at we shall be married 
 soon." 
 
 Hettie threw her arms arounu her sister's neck and 
 kissed the expressive face. 
 
 " Is it true ? I am so glad O, Leah ! I am so glad ; 
 for, of all things in the world, love is best ! I am so glad 1 
 Then I have found you only to lose you again ? " 
 
 " You will never lose me, nor shall I lose you," said 
 Leah, " I am sure that you will love him, first for my 
 sake, then for his own ; he is so noble, so good. Ah 1 
 Hettie, I see such a happy life stretching out before me I 
 I can hardly speak of it without tears ; " and into the dark 
 eyes came a mist, while the proud curves of the beautiful 
 mouth softened. " We are like two sisters in a fairy tale," 
 she continued. " How strange, Hettie, that we should be 
 together again ! I have told you my little love story ; tell 
 me yours, if you have^Dne." 
 
 Over the fair face of the younger girl there fell a 
 shadow 
 
 " Mine is not like yours ; " she said. " It was not a 
 great love that came to me all at once ; it crept into my 
 heart little by little, and was there before I knew anything 
 about it ; and then, when I found it, I knew that it must 
 die. It has no happy ending, my love story. Yours will 
 end in marriage ; mine has ended in parting and sorrow." 
 
 " Is it so, Hettie ? I am grieved. How was it ? Will 
 this change in your life make any difference ? " 
 
 " No ; it was all over, dead and buried, before the 
 change came. Nothing can make any difference. There 
 never was any hope. We did not know, either of us; it 
 came upon us unconsciously," 
 
 " Hettie/' whispered Leah, " will you tell me about itf
 
 B 7 g A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 Not unless you like not if it distresses you. But, if 1 
 knew, perhaps I could help you." 
 
 " I should like to tell you, Leah ; but I have always 
 been afraid it would distress you." 
 
 " Never mind that, Hettie ; tell me about it. No one 
 can understand it better than I." 
 
 " There is so little to tell," replied Hettie, " that I am 
 almost ashamed to call it a love-story. It is more like a 
 dream, only it ended more quickly than most dreams do." 
 As she spoke her eyes, with a far-away look, were fixed on 
 the winding river and the dark masses of wood. " I was 
 so busy all my life, Leah," she said, " that I had no time 
 to think about love. I do not believe that during the last 
 two years of my father's life I had one leisure hour. Yet 
 within me must have been the longing for love and a lov- 
 ing heart. Quite by accident I met some one. He came 
 to see my father ; and I and my father liked him. We 
 saw each other not only every day, but sometimes twice in 
 the day. My life was so hard, and he was so kind to me : 
 that I looked forward to seeing him as the only gleam of 
 happiness I had. When he went away, he left the music 
 of his voice with me. Ah, Leah, I was mad ! All love is 
 madness. I grew to love him with my whole heart, and 
 did not know it. When I closed my eyes at night, it was 
 to dream of him ; when I opened them in the daylight, it 
 was to see his face. One day he came to say good-by to 
 me. He was pale as death, and his voice shook with 
 pain. ' I must go,' he said to me ; but I oh, Leah, how 
 could I do it ? I clung to his arm. We were both stand- 
 ing watching the waves break upon the shore, and I cried 
 to him not to go. My father was ill and my life so gloomy; 
 I felt that, if he went away, I must die, I could not live. 
 He seemed sadly distressed, ' I cannot stay with you," 
 he said ; ' it is impossible.' I should not like to tell any 
 one but you, Leah. I clung to him, still weeping. Ho
 
 /f BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 279 
 
 was all the world to me all the world. ' Stay with me- 
 at least until my father is better, and the darkest hour of 
 my trouble is past.' Oh, Leah, much as I love you, I am 
 ashamed to tell you the rest ! " 
 
 Hettie buried her face in her hands and wept aloud ; 
 while Leah wonderd why her fate should be so much bet- 
 ter, brighter, and happier than her sister's. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 IT was some comfort to Hettie to have her tears kissed 
 away, to feel loving hands take hers, and loving lips touch 
 her forehead. 
 
 " Tell me all abouf it, dear, and then we will forget it. I 
 will try all I can for the remainder of your life and mine 
 to make you happy, and to atone to you for this unhappy 
 love." 
 
 " I have so little to tell you," said Hettie, " and I am 
 so much ashamed of it. I asked him to stay just a little 
 with me, but he said ' No,' he must go ; and I asked him 
 why. It all came out then, Leah. He did love me ; he 
 loved me with all his heart. Ah me, if you could have 
 seen his face the sorrow on it which no words could de- 
 scribe. He did love me living and dying, it will com- 
 fort me to remember that. I shall never know love again ; 
 but he loved me ; there was love unutterable in his eyes when 
 he looked at me. Only think, Leah, I have had but ten 
 minutes' real happiness in my life, and that was when I 
 first found out that he loved me before I knew what 
 stood between us. Leah, the great sea lay before us ; the 
 wind brought the brine of the ocean and the fragrance 
 from the meadows. I would go through a lifetime of tor*
 
 3 8c 4 BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 ture for one such hour again. He told me why he musl 
 go. What, of all the reasons in the world, should you 
 think it was ? " 
 
 " Was it that he was rich and you were poor, Hettie ?* 
 asked Leah. 
 
 " No ; he cared nothing about that." 
 
 " Was it " and Leah lowered her voice " anything 
 about our father, Hettie ? " 
 
 " No ; he liked my father ; he respected his peculiar 
 ideas, and would you believe it, Leah ? came often to 
 discuss matters with him. No, it was nothing about my 
 father. You would never guess, Leah ; it is too cruel to 
 guess. He did love me ; and he told me that because he 
 loved me he must go away and never see my face again. 
 Even while he said it all his great love was shining in his 
 eyes. And the reason was this that he was engaged to 
 marry some one whom I am sure he did not love. He 
 told me that a certain train of circumstances had '.ed to 
 his engagement, and that he himself, mistaking the friendly, 
 kindly admiration he had for the lady for love, had asked 
 her to be his wife. Ah, Leah, how much unhappy love 
 there is in the world ! He told me that this girl whom he 
 was engaged to marry would die if he left her, and that 
 unknown to himself he had learned to love me with all his 
 heart ; it was for that reason it was because he loved me 
 and could not ask me to be his wife that T "e parted, neve* 
 in this world to meet again." 
 
 " What a sad story, Hettie ! " cried Leah. 
 
 If she had but known, if she had but guessed who 
 it was that had thus loved Hettie, she might have died 
 then and there. 
 
 *' You must not think," said Hettie, " that he was want- 
 ing in loyalty and honor; he was engaged, promised, 
 pledged to this other, and he had no thought of loving me. 
 Neither of us knew or thought of it until all at once the
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 2 8 f 
 
 truth came upon us like a great blinding light; then honor 
 told him that he must go." 
 
 " I think he was cruel to you, Hettie," said Leah, all 
 unconscious whom she was judging. 
 
 " No ; he did not intend to be cruel ; he did not know. 
 It came on us all at once, just as when people think they 
 are wading through a shallow brook and suddenly find 
 themselves in a deep stream. He could never have been 
 cruel ; he was the most gentle, the most chivalrous " 
 
 " He should have thought more of the danger that you 
 ran ; the fact that you were lonely and friendless should 
 have made him all the more cautious for you." 
 
 " I do not think that love often reasons," said Hettie. 
 " There was not much harm done." 
 
 " Only two lives spoiled," put in Leah, sadly. 
 
 "I will not call mine spoiled," said Hettie. " I would 
 rather have loved him, and loved him unhappily, than have 
 been the beloved wife of any other man. Mine will be a life 
 apart ; but I will not call it spoiled. That night, Leah, he 
 kissed me. No man had kissed me before ; no man shall ever 
 kiss me again. On that night, Leah, just for one minute, 
 he took me in his arms and held me there ; and until I die 
 no arms shall clasp me again. I suffer pain ; yet even my 
 pain is sweet and pleasant to me. Sometimes I think that 
 we quiet women can suffer deeper pain than women of 
 more passionate natures. That other, whom my love will 
 marry, said she should vJie if she lost him. I love him as 
 much, but it will not kill me." 
 
 " Would you wish that it might, Hettie ? " asked Leah. 
 
 " No. I love you, and I shall find out many pleasures 
 in life ; but I shall be true as steel to my lost love. I wish 
 you could have seen him, Leah. To have loved one such, 
 even if unhappily, is joy enough for a lifetime. I have 
 told you my love story, dear, and you will now know why ; as 
 I go through life, aH men will be to me but as shadows."
 
 282 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " I hope it will not be so, Hettie. As the years go on 
 you will forget this incident, which is but a dream, and 
 meet with some one who will make you happy." 
 
 Hettie shook her golden head. Could any other man 
 have such a face as the man who had kissed her by the 
 sea ? Could any one ever replace him ? She laughed the 
 idea to scorn. 
 
 " How strange, Leah," she said, " that we two sisters 
 have a fate so different ! To you mind, darling I do not 
 envy you I am not even ever so slightly jealous of you 
 to you everything has come, even love." 
 
 14 You forget one thing," remarked Leah. " You had 
 your father's blessing. I had his curse ; although no harm 
 has followed it, still it lies upon me." 
 
 "I have wondered," said Hettie, with a sad smile, 
 " whether it has not fallen on me by mistake." 
 
 "No, I am quite sure it has not," declared Leah, 
 warmly. " You deserve every blessing. My life is not 
 finished ; it may overtake me yet" words which she after- 
 wards remembered as prophetic. 
 
 Just at that moment the general came down the terrace 
 to them. 
 
 " In your favorite spot, Leah ? " he said. " Do you 
 know how long you girls have been talking ? More than 
 an hour. What is it about ? Neither bonnets nor lovers, 
 of that I am sure." 
 
 Neither sister spoke ; and then Sir Arthur saw that 
 each face was pale and grave. He thought to himself that 
 they had probably been speaking of their father. 
 
 " Leah, I want you," he said. " I will not keep you 
 very long ; but I should like to talk to you before Basil 
 comes." 
 
 Hettie heard the name, and repeated it to herself. 
 *' Basil ? " It was an unusual name, and one she had hardly 
 beard before.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 283 
 
 "That must be Leah's lover," she said. "Happy 
 Leah ! Heaven bless her ! " 
 
 No knight would ride down the avenue to woo her. 
 She wondered if many women gave their lives for love. 
 
 " Come to the library, Leah," said the general. " I 
 like bracing, clear, frosty weather like this ; but I felt a 
 twinge in my right arm this morning, and I must not neg- 
 lect it." Seeing that Hettie looked at him inquiringly, he 
 continued : " An old wound is like an old friend. I received 
 a sword-cut on this arm more than twenty years ago, and 
 sometimes on very cold days it teases me even now ; the 
 moral of which is that it is easier to give a wound than to 
 cure a wound. Do not leave your cozy corner, Hettie ; I 
 will send Leah back to you in ten minutes." 
 
 As they walked down the terrace together, Hettie won- 
 dered if the time would ever come when they would dis- 
 cuss matters before her, if she would ever be really one of 
 themselves, if, when Leah was married, she would tdce 
 her place in her uncle's confidence. 
 
 Not caring to watch Leah and her uncle, Hettie looked 
 down the avenue, and saw a gentleman walking up to the 
 house. She drew back, thinking that it was some visitor 
 for the general, and the next minute had forgotten all 
 about the occurrence. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 SIR BASIL walked slowly up the avenue ; he looked 
 tired and pale not at all like a gay bridegroom. Shadows 
 in his eyes told of sleepless nights, of weary days, of sad 
 thoughts. Yet he had in his manner something of the man 
 who has fought a good fight and has overcome. He re-
 
 284 * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 fleeted, _3 he walked between the long lines of leafless 
 trees, that after all he was more fortunate than many men. 
 He had known the rapture of true love, even though it had 
 lasted so short a time. Many men lived and died without 
 ever knowing one such hour as had fallen to his lot by the 
 sweet southern sea. The glow of it, the warmth of it, 
 would last him through life, even through the chill of long 
 years. 
 
 How well he remembered the first morning that ha 
 came to Brentwood, and the beautiful face shining in the 
 midst of the passion-flowers ! What a fatal morning it had 
 been for him ! He could recall the peculiar expression of 
 Leah's face the first moment her eyes met his ; and she 
 had told him since, that in that first moment she had loved 
 him. How loving and faithful she had been to him ever 
 since ! How many men would give their lives for the love 
 she lavished on him and he was so cold ! He made many 
 good resolutions as he walked up the avenue, where the 
 November sun shone brightly through the bare branches. 
 He would be more loving to her. Never again should his 
 thoughts rove to the fair, pale face that had lain on his 
 breast for five minutes, never to lie there again. He 
 would forget it, and think of the beautiful face that had 
 smiles only for him. He would be loving and loyal to her, 
 and in time Heaven would send him peace. No man was 
 either great or wise, or truly noble until he had suffered pain. 
 It was the lot of every man ; some live without pleasure, 
 happiness, or love, but no one lives without pain. 
 
 "I will make it all up to her," he thought; and then 
 through the leafless trees he saw the terraces and the pretty 
 balustrade where the great clusters of passion-flowers 
 grew in summer the very spot in which he had first seen 
 her ; and, unless he was mistaken, she was there now. 
 Yes, he could see the folds of a long black dress on the 
 white stone of the terrace ; he could see one white hand
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING 285 
 
 lying idly on the ledge where the brown tendrils looked 
 withered and dead. She was surely there ; she had told 
 him she loved that spot best, because It was there she had 
 seen him first. She was looking toward the house. 
 He would go to her noiselessly and take her in his arms ; 
 fte would kiss her and say loving words to her. 
 
 He went quietly up the great white steps, where the 
 marble statues stood and the huge vases were filled with 
 evergreens, round the great clusters of almond-trees to the 
 corner that Leah loved best. He smiled to himself. Ah, 
 he was not mistaken ! 
 
 A tall, slender figure stooc. there, with a black dress 
 trailing on the steps, a white hand resting on the balustrade. 
 He could not see her face or head, for she was looking 
 toward the house. Should he call her name ? If he uttered 
 but one word, she would turn to him with her face all 
 bright with glad and happy love. No ; he would go up to 
 her and clasp her in his arms and kiss her, while he made 
 her guess who he was. 
 
 One arm was half round her, and his dark handsome 
 head bent over her before he perceived that the beautiful 
 masses of hair were of gold. The next moment the fair 
 face seemed to flash into his own, a cry came from the 
 pale lips, a great shock overwhelmed them. 
 
 There was a terrible moment of fear and pain, of be- 
 wilderment and surprise, followed by a deep silence that 
 was full of agony. Then faintly from him came the name 
 " Hettie ! " so tremulously spoken that it was like a 
 sigh. 
 
 " Hettie," he repeated, " is it you ? " 
 
 She shrank back with a little wailing cry, which seemed 
 to go straight to his heart. 
 
 Could it be Hettie ? Was that the golden head which 
 had lain for a few happy minutes on his breast ? Was 
 that the fair pale face which he had covered with kisse*
 
 286 A BROKEN- WEDDING-RING. 
 
 and tears ? Could it be the girl whom he had left by the 
 sea, never to meet again ? 
 
 " It is really Hettie," he said ; and he laid his hand 
 upon hers, as though he half fancied she would melt into 
 thin air. " I cannot trust my own eyes. Speak one word 
 to me. Are you really Hettie Ray ? " 
 
 He had seen her last in her homely dress, plainly made 
 of plain material, in the midst of her homely surroundings. 
 Now she stood arrayed in costly silk, with great folds of 
 crape, with an air of distinction and elegance, a certain subtle 
 change more fair and lovely than ever in his eyes 
 Hettie still, but a very different Hettie from the simply- 
 dressed maiden he had known at Southwood. 
 
 She raised her blue eyes and looked at him. 
 
 " Do you not know me?" she said reproachfully. " Surely 
 I am Hettie Ray, just as surely as I am the most miserable 
 girl in the wide world." 
 
 " Hettie, Hettie what brought you here ? " He made 
 no attempt to caress her. He drew back from her, and 
 looked at her with wild, troubled eyes. " What brought 
 you here ? " he repeated. " I have tried my best ; I have 
 fought a fiercer fight with my heart than any man ever 
 fought ; and now, when I had begun to hope for peace, you 
 rise from the very ground, as it were before me. Hettie, 
 in Heaven's name, tell me what brings you here ? " 
 
 The face before him was miserable enough ; there was 
 the very anguish of woe in the blue eyes. 
 
 " Do you not know,*' she said slowly, " who I am ? " 
 
 " You are Hettie Ray," he replied. 
 
 " Alas, alas ! " she cried, wringing her hands. " I 
 begin to see now ; I begin to understand. What have I 
 done that Heaven should punish me so ? What have 1 
 done ? " 
 
 "Hettie," he said, gently, "I do not understand 
 What is the matter ? "
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 287 
 
 " Who are you ? " she cried. She stood before him, 
 with her hands clasped, her pale face raised, hanging as it 
 were on the words that were to fall from his lips. " Who 
 are you ? " she repeated. " Do not keep me in suspense. 
 Tell me quickly." 
 
 Still no glimmer of the truth came to him. He won- 
 dered at the intense anxiety of her manner. 
 
 " I forgot," he said ; " you never knew my name. I am 
 Sir Basil Carlton of Glen." 
 
 She repeated the words after him, her white lips trem- 
 bling. They brought no memory to her. 
 
 " Sir Basil Carlton ! " she repeated. " I do not mean 
 that. Who are you ? Tell me for Heaven's sake, are you 
 Leah's fiance ? They said he was coming to-day. Heaven 
 cannot be so cruel you are not Leah's jfo/w/" 
 
 " I am Leah's lover, my poor darling," he said, sadly. 
 
 " And she loves you so ! Oh ! how has it happened ? 
 We were talking about you the other day no, this morn- 
 ing ; it seems to me long since she told me about her 
 lover, and how she loved him. O, Heaven, how it all comes 
 back to me ! I told her such a great love could never be 
 
 a happy one ; but how little I thought " She paused, 
 
 and thv-n, after a minute's silence, she looked at him again. 
 " You," she said " you are Leah's lover. She loves you 
 so dearly, she said she should die if she were parted from 
 you. And you I remember you told me that you did not 
 love her, that it was circumstances which had led to the 
 engagement. And she loves you so ! Oh, hapless Leah, 
 oh, miserable, thrice-wretched me ! " 
 
 She shrank back, crouching against the withered sprays 
 of the passion-flowers. All her strength and youth seemed 
 to leave her ; her white face and wild eyes were terrible 
 to see. 
 
 Half frightened because of her despair, he drew nearei 
 to her. 
 *- M
 
 288 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " Hettie," he said, " what is Leah to you ? Tell me 
 who you are." 
 
 " Do you not know ? " she said. " Have they not told 
 you ? " 
 
 " Told me what ? " he cried. What is it ? " 
 
 A sickening sense of insecurity came to her. If neither 
 Leah nor Sir Arthur had said anything to him, what could 
 she say ? Was he to know all about her ? If she told 
 him that she was Leah's sister, and that they were both 
 daughters of Martin Ray, what would happen ? 
 
 Her heart grew faint with dread and pain. She held out 
 her hands to him with an imploring gesture. 
 
 " Do you not know ? " she said. " Can you not guess 
 who I am ? " 
 
 " How can I ? Why, Hettie, what need is there for 
 mystery ? You can have nothing to fear in telling me. 
 What brings you, Martin Ray's daughter, here to Brent- 
 wood, and what are you to Leah ? " 
 
 " You cannot guess ? " she said. " You have no 
 idea ? " 
 
 " None. I cannot guess. What are you keeping from 
 me, Hettie ? " 
 
 " My story and Leah's," she replied ; " and I cannot 
 tell it to you. You must ask them to tell it." 
 
 In his sudden surprise and complete bewilderment he 
 never thought of what Martin Ray had told him of his 
 two daughters ; all power of thought and memory had gone 
 from him. 
 
 " Hettie, you have lost faith in me ! " he said. 
 
 " No ; it is not that. I See, there is some one 
 
 coming. Do not let me be seen." 
 
 The quick footstep of one ol the men-servants was 
 heard on the terrace. Without a word, Sir Basil went to 
 meet him. 
 
 " Sir Arthur would be glad to see you in the library at
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 389 
 
 once, Sir Basil," said the man. If he felt any curiosity 
 about the figure crouching against the balustrade, he gave 
 no sign. 
 
 " Say that I will be there in a few minutes," was the 
 reply ; and the man went away. 
 
 Sir Basil turned to Hettie. 
 
 " Let me take you to the house. Hettie," he said. 
 " You must not remain here." 
 
 " I cannot go. You must leave me here. I cannot 
 walk," she said ; " I cannot stand. Do you not see how 
 I tremble ? You must leave me.'* 
 
 He looked terribly distressed. 
 
 " My darling ! " he began. 
 
 But she held up her hand. 
 
 " Hush, Basil ! " she said. " Remember, you are 
 Leah's lover." 
 
 " I will not leave, you, Hettie," he said. " You will 
 faint." 
 
 " No ; do not fear ; listen to me. It will be all for 
 the best. You go now. No one will know that you have 
 seen me, and they will tell you the story. We must meet 
 after that as strangers. Go." 
 
 " Heaven knows that no man was ever more puzzled 
 or more unhappy than I," he said. 
 
 Her eyes were dim with tears as she watched him 
 Leah's lover ; and then, as he went slowly down the 
 terrace, a mist seemed to rise before her ; she swayed to 
 and fro, staggered, and, helpless, fell suddenly to the 
 ground.
 
 990 A BROKEN WEDtilNG-RING. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 As he passed quickly through one of the side-halls of 
 Brentwood, Sir Basil caught a glimpse of his face in a 
 mirror, and started back, almost frightened, by his own 
 reflection. Was that haggard face his ? He stood still for 
 a few minutes before he went to the library, to endeavor 
 to collect himself, to drive the weird shadows from his face 
 and eyes, to clear his brain. Then, when he was in some 
 measure himself, he went at once to the room where the 
 general awaited him. 
 
 Sir Arthur was alone, and so preoccupied with his own 
 thoughts that he did notice the pallor and agitation of 
 Leah's lover. He shook hands with him, and welcomed 
 him home most heartily. 
 
 " I am glad to see you, Basil," he said. " I assure you 
 that some of us have found the past ten days very long 
 ones. We have had a very unpleasant, anxious time of it 
 since we parted. I am thankful it is over. There remains 
 a duty perhaps even more disagreeable, and that is to tell 
 you a story which I would fain have buried in oblivion.'* 
 
 " A story ! " repeated Sir Basil. This, then, was what 
 Hettie meant when she said " they " had something to tell 
 him. 
 
 " You will always remember, Basil, that it is I who 
 have kept this secret from you. It was by my desire, my 
 wish that nothing was said. Leah would have had it other- 
 wise, if I had let her have her own way. The fault, if 
 there be any fault, lies with me. You can judge when I 
 have told you. Let me add this if anything which I tell 
 you should be adverse to your tastes and opinions, you
 
 4 BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 2 qt 
 
 are as free as air, Leah would not bind you. You have 
 but to say the word." 
 
 " Nothing can free me from Leah," he said ; and, Sir 
 Arthur, in his satisfaction at the words, did not notice the 
 tone of the speaker's voice. 
 
 " Thank Heaven for that ! Now listen to my story, 
 Basil. I will begin from my earliest recollection of the 
 one being I loved then better than the whole world my 
 little sister." 
 
 He did not think it strange that Sir Basil turned his 
 face to the window, so that no change passing over it 
 could be seen. 
 
 At first Sir Basil seemed hardly to realize the words he 
 heard they passed over him as it were ; then they began 
 to strike on his brain. Some faint glimmer of the truth 
 came to him when he heard the name of Martin Ray 
 enough to turn him faint and dizzy, to make his heart beat 
 wildly. 
 
 He never forgot that hour. From the window he saw 
 the sunshine on the distant hills and woods, on the bare 
 branches of the trees, on the white stone terraces and the 
 evergreens ; a little robin redbreast flew up and down : the 
 wind blew the brown branches of a dead guelder-rose 
 against the window-panes. He never forgot one detail. 
 
 The general's voice went on in dull monotone ; and 
 presently Sir Basil's attention was caught and riveted by 
 the names of Leah and Hettie, the two fair sisters. He 
 listened intently as the general told him, with some dran> 
 atic skill, the story of the choice they made. He was 
 back again with Martin Ray in fancy, listening to this same 
 relation, but told in so different a fashion ; and he remem- 
 bered with a bitter pang that when Martin Ray recited the 
 story he (Sir Basil) had condemned Leah he had judged 
 her cold and selfish ; he had admired Hettie, the daughter 
 who clung to her father, a thousand times more than her
 
 A BROKEN WEDDIh^ JIING. 
 
 Who had left him. And now the girl whom in his own 
 xnind he had considered selfish and heartless was she whom 
 ,he was to make his wife. He blamed himself that he haa 
 not discovered the truth ; it all seemed now so easy to un- 
 derstand. He could not even imagine how he had been so 
 blind, save that it had never occurred to him to connect 
 Martin Ray and his family with the general's household. 
 
 While these thoughts ran riot through his brain, the 
 general went on with his story, and Sir Basil listened in 
 silence to the end. 
 
 It was true then ; he the most unfortunate of men, 
 stood between these two loving sisters. He loved one 
 with his whole heart, and he was bound in honor to marry 
 the other, and both loved him. Was there ever such a 
 misfortune such a fate ? He was silent from sheer excess 
 of despair. Who could have thought that the beautiful, 
 queenly woman and the fair, winsome girl were sisters 
 one the very queen of beauty and fashion, the other earning 
 her living and supporting her father by teaching ? Fate 
 must have been laughing at them when it led him to South- 
 wood. 
 
 The general wondered at his silence, and, when he had 
 finished his story, waited for his young companion to speak. 
 Still, Sir Basil sat with his face to the window, silent and 
 still. 
 
 " You will understand," said Sir Arthur, " that it was 
 no question of social inequality. If my sister had married 
 one greatly her inferior in rank, and he had been a loyal, 
 honest man , I should have respected him ; but a man 
 like Martin Ray I could not tolerate. There is no use in 
 speaking ill of the dead ; but my sister would never have 
 written to me without due reason to ask me to save her 
 children. However it may be, whether I did right 01 
 wrong, it cannot be altered now. If you find anv reason,
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 293 
 
 Basil, in what I have told you for bringing your engage- 
 ment to an end, you will be justified in doing so." 
 
 The general was struck by the pain and the pallor of 
 the face turned to him. 
 
 " I do not complain," said Sir Basil, " though I wish 
 that I had known the truth from the first. I understand 
 your motives and respect them. I, in you*- place, should 
 probably have done the same thing ; but I think better of 
 Martin Ray than you do ; and the fact that he was the 
 father of the girl I loved would never have made the 
 slightest difference to me. I hope you will not be annoyed 
 when I say that Martin Ray's daughters would have been 
 the same to me as daughters of your own." 
 
 " I am delighted to hear it," returned Sir Arthur. 
 v< Affairs have changed considerably of late years. Martin 
 has been like a lion with his teeth drawn ; but, vhen my 
 poor sister ran away with him, he was a power in the land." 
 
 Sir Basil was thinking deeply. He decided that it 
 would be much better for him not to mention that he had 
 ever seen or known Martin Ray much better that the 
 whole sad story should be buried and done with forever. 
 Yet, as he framed these thoughts, he was dazed and blind 
 with his great misery. What manner of life lay before him 
 loving one sister, marrying the other, and ^he one he 
 loved always near him ? 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 LEAH had been terribly shocked at finding Hettie lying 
 unconscious on the ground. While she had been talking to 
 Sir Arthur in the library, one of the men-servants, who had 
 been told to watch for Sir Basil's arrival, had come to say 
 that he had arrived, and the general had at once sc^t for 
 him.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDMG-RING. 
 
 " I will leave you, uncle," she said. " You will be more 
 at ease if I am not here." 
 
 She went up to him before she quitted the room, and 
 put one arm round his neck, half hiding her face on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 ** Uncle," she whispered, " you do not really think that 
 what you have to say will make any difference as regards 
 Basil, do you ? " 
 
 With one hand she clutched the lace on her bosom, and 
 he saw that her very soul was on her lips. How well she 
 loved Sir Basil, this beautiful niece of his ! 
 
 " I am quite sure not," he replied. " You may rest 
 happy, content, and assured. I know him so well. I think 
 myself that he rather believes a rabid politician to be a 
 great patriot. You need not have the shadow of a fear, 
 Leah." 
 
 " I shall know," said the girl, " by my first glance at his 
 face whether the story has vexed him or not. If I thought 
 that it would, or that his love for me would grow less, I 
 should die now and here." 
 
 " Have no fear, Leah ; trust to me." 
 
 She quitted the room, and went back to the terrace 
 where she had left Hettie. No tall figure stood by the 
 balustrade ; but she saw an inanimate form stretched on 
 the ground. Full of alarm she hastened to the spot. It 
 was Hettie, white, cold, senseless, her golden hair lying 
 like a veil over her shoulders Hettie, whom she had 'eft 
 so short a time before well and smiling ! What was wrong ? 
 She raised the golden head and looked into the white face. 
 Was it death ? Was it sudden illness ? In a paroxysm of 
 terror she kissed the sweet face. " Some one has broken 
 her heart," thought Leah. She remembered the pathetic 
 little love-story her sister had told her. It was that had 
 caused her to faint. Finding it impossible to restore her
 
 A BROKEN WEDDTNC-RTNG. 39$ 
 
 *o consciousness Leah summoned aid, and Hettie was car- 
 ried to her room. 
 
 There was a look of intense pain in the blue eyes when 
 they unclosed at last, and when they rested on Leah a cry 
 escaped her. She opened her arms and folded her in 
 them. " Leah ! Leah ! " she cried ; and then she checked 
 herself. She must not betray her secret. Leah must not 
 know that her lover had swerved, even though uncon- 
 sciously. She must not stand like a shadow between Leah 
 and the full sunshine and gladness of her love. 
 
 Leah was very loving to her. 
 
 " Close your eyes and sleep ; you will be better then," 
 she said. " And I want you to come down to dinner ; I 
 have a surprise for you." 
 
 She little dreamed that it was the " surprise " which had 
 almost killed her sister. 
 
 Leah stole away gently then. Her lover would be wait- 
 ing for her the lover who now knew her story, and from 
 whose face she would learn at the first glance whether he 
 cared less for her. She went to the library, but it was 
 empty, and a deadly chill made her tremble. Had he re- 
 sented the disclosure and gone away ? She went to the 
 drawing-room. He was not there ; but from the window 
 she saw him walking slowly up and down the terrace, his 
 face pale and agitated. Better to know her fate at once. 
 She hastened out to him and touched his arm gently with 
 her hand. 
 
 " Basil," she said and there was a world of piteous en- 
 treaty in her voice " let me see your face." 
 
 He turned to her, and her heart gave one great bound 
 of relief, which was quickly followed by a smart of pain. 
 There was no trace of anger or annoyance on the face she 
 loved so well, but there was unutterable pain. 
 
 " Basil," she said, " my uncle has told you all. Has it 
 vexed or grieved you ? "
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 He gazed at her with a vacant wonder in his eyes, and 
 then came a gleam of recollection. 
 
 " It can never be," she thought, " that he has forgotten 
 so momentous a conversation," 
 
 " Grieved me ? No, Leah, not in the least." The 
 pathos of her face troubled him. " It has neither grieved 
 nor vexed me in the least. I assure you honestly that I 
 shall not be ashamed of the whole world's knowing that I 
 married the daughter of Martin Ray. After all, though 
 some of his ideas were strangely mistaken, he was a patriot 
 at heart, was he not, Leah ? " 
 
 " Do not ask me," she cried, with a shudder. Even to 
 her lover she could not speak of her father. " My uncle 
 has told you the whole story, and you say that it has not 
 vexed or grieved you, that you do not love me one whit the 
 less for it. Now, grant me one favor, Basil ; promise me 
 that you will never speak of my past life to me. It was 
 horrible. I had not, as I grew older, one thought or idea 
 in common with my poor father. I wake now sometimes, 
 heart-sick with horrible dreams, fancying myself once more 
 listening with a rebellious heart to doctrines and teachings 
 I hated. I say no word against my poor father ; but I can 
 never bear to think of the past, dream of it, recall it. You 
 know that I am Martin Ray's daughter ; you love me none 
 the less for that ; I am content. You are very good to me f 
 Basil," she said ; " I will try to repay you. My uncle felt 
 sure of your good faith ; he understands you well. He 
 told you all about my dear sister." Her face was trans- 
 figured in its tenderness as she spoke of Hettie. " You 
 will love her, Basil, I know ; she is so fair, so sweet and 
 good. I think her most beautiful, too. But you love dark- 
 haired women best, do you not ? " 
 
 " I love one dark-haired woman," said Sir Basil. " I 
 shall not plead guilty to more than that."
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 297 
 
 She laughed the happy, quiet laugh he was not often to 
 hear again, and looked at him with brightening eyes. 
 
 "How happy we shall be 'together !" she said. "I 
 could not have believed that so much happiness existed on 
 earth. Ah ! Basil, how much I missed my sister I could 
 never tell you ! In spite of all the luxury and magnificence 
 that surrounded me, I was desolate in heart until you came. 
 I have known no desolation since." 
 
 He would have given worlds to return her kind, loving 
 words, but he could not. His lips trembled, his voice 
 faltered, as he tried to frame some question about Hettie. 
 
 " I was sorry to hear," he said, " that your sister is ill. 
 Is it true ? " 
 
 "She fainted. I was talking to her on the terrace 
 when my uncle came for me ; he wanted to speak to me. 
 I left her well enough. When I went back, she was lying 
 with her face to the ground." 
 
 He strangled the bitter cry that rose to his lips. 
 
 " She has had a great trouble in her life," said uncon. 
 scious Leah, " and I am afraid it will be some time before 
 she will get over it." 
 
 The words smote him like a blow. It was impossible 
 that she could have told Leah. Yet what did this mean ? 
 
 " Trouble ? " he said. " I am sorry to hear it. What 
 trouble is it ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell you," she replied, gravely. " I do not 
 know much about it ; but it is a sorrow that has spoiled 
 her life, and we must be doubly kind and gentle to her be. 
 cause of it. Out of the greatness of our own happiness we 
 must be most loving to her." 
 
 " Heaven be merciful to me ! " he cried to himself. " I 
 am sorely tried ! " 
 
 " I know you will be like a kind elder brother to Het- 
 tie ; will you not, Basil ? And in time I hope she will for. 
 get this trouble and love some one very much some one
 
 2 9 g * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 who will marry her, she is so sweet and beautiful. I look 
 (orward to such a happy future, Basil." 
 
 " And she shall have one," he vowed to himself. " I 
 would rather die than see her made wretched ! " 
 
 He could not by word or look destroy the happiness 
 that shone in Leah's face ; yet the other face, more loving, 
 if less fair, was a thousand times dearer to him. 
 
 " Hettie will be down to dinner," continued the uncon- 
 scious girl, " and then I shall introduce the two people I 
 love best to each other. You will be all that is most kind 
 and loving to her, Basil, will you not, for my sake ? " 
 
 " I will do everything you wish," he replied. 
 
 He knew how well she loved him, and he knew also 
 that, if ever she guessed at the truth, her life would end 
 with her happiness. She was looking up at him with glad 
 eyes in which tears were shining 
 
 " I will be so good," she saiu. " Those wnom ffeaven 
 blesses should always be good and Heaven has blessed 
 me. Sometimes I think I might have been selfish had 1 
 been less happy." 
 
 He could not help thinking how, without knowing 
 that it was her story he had heard, he had judged her 
 selfish. 
 
 Strangely enough, her thoughts went in the same 
 direction. 
 
 " Basil," she said, gently, " there is one more question 
 I should like to ask you only one. When you heard my 
 story when you were told of my choice did you think me 
 selfish ? It was as though I had to choose between pov- 
 erty and wealth, between my love and duty to my father 
 and the luxury of a fashionable life. It was not so. Had 
 my uncle been poor and my father rich, I should have done 
 the same. It was the life sketched out for me that frigh- 
 tened me. Did you think me selfish ? Tell me." 
 
 He was silent for some minutes. He could not say
 
 A BROKEN WEDDfNG-RINd 399 
 
 *No," for had he not already condemned her ? He could 
 not say " Yes," because he could not wound her. 
 
 " I think," he replied, " that the circumstances were 
 unusual, and that no person but yourself can comprehend 
 them." 
 
 " Thank you," she said gently. " I wish it were in my 
 power to prove to you now that I am not selfish. I wish 
 there were some grand sacrifice I could make for you sake; 
 you would see that I should embrace it as some would a 
 gain or a pleasure. You would say to yourself then that I 
 was not to be judged by this one action of my life." 
 
 " I do not think so now, Leah," he remarked. 
 
 " But you would know it then, Basil" and the light of 
 heroism was on her face as she spoke. " I wish I could 
 prove it. If anyone attempted your life, I would cast my- 
 self before you- and receive the death blow instead." 
 
 " No one is likely to put you to the test, dear," he said 
 with a faint laugh. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 "TEN minutes more, and it will be over," said Sir Basil 
 to himself he was in the drawing-room alone, waiting for 
 Sir Arthur and the ladies. 
 
 The room was brilliantly lighted, and he saw there for 
 the first time a magnificent picture that Sir Arthur had 
 purchased that year at the Royal Academy. It was called 
 " CEnone." It was terribly, tragically beautiful. 
 
 " There lies a vale in Ida, lovelier 
 Than all the valleys of Ionian hills. 1 * 
 
 Hither came the beautiful-browed CEnone, she whom Paris
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 had worshipped so wildly, then deserted for golden-haired 
 Aphrodite CEnone, whose despairing cry will ring through 
 all ages 
 
 " Oh mother Ida, many-fountained Ida. 
 Dear mother Ida, hearken ere I die!.... 
 I am the daughter of a river-god. 
 Hear me, for I will speak, and build up all" 
 My sorrow with my song." 
 
 The beautiful face, with its restless passion of misery, 
 was turned to the fair valley where the cicala slept ; " the 
 purple flowers droop, the golden bee is lily-cradled." On 
 her face was all the pathos of her words 
 
 " My eyes are full of tears, my heart of love, 
 My heart is breaking, and my eyes are dim. 
 And I am all a weary of my life." 
 
 The despair shown in her face, in the clasp of her folded 
 hands, in the droop of the beautiful head, was grand in its 
 tragedy. CEnone was leaning against a rock ; the wind 
 seemed to stir the white folds of her robe and the dark 
 unbound masses of her hair, No one who saw the eyes in 
 the picture could ever forget them they were so dark and 
 lustrous, so full of burning passion and despair. 
 
 Sir Basil was engrossed in it. He did not hear Sir 
 Arthur enter the room, for he was in the land which human 
 sounds never reach. Sir Arthur laid his hand upon the 
 young baronet's shoulder. 
 
 " You are absorbed in my new purchase," he said. 
 " Was there ever anything finer than the tragic sorrow and 
 desolation of that face ? That long flowing black hair so 
 beautifully painted that one can almost see the wind stir- 
 ring it. I value that picture most highly." 
 
 " I have never seen such sorrow in any human face," 
 said Sir Basil. 
 
 Before he had finished the words the door opened, and
 
 ^ BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 301 
 
 he knew that he was in the presence of both sisters. 
 Never did man utter a more vehement, passionate prayer 
 for strength and calmness than he. One terrible moment 
 passed. He heard the rustle of soft silken robes as they 
 crossed the room. Then, with a desperate effort, he raised 
 his head, and looked at them first at her whom he had 
 loved and lost, her sweet face white as the leaf of a lily, 
 her golden hair shining like an aureole round her head 
 the woman to whom his heart flew, at whose feet he would 
 have laid his life, the only woman who had ever stirred his 
 soul with the fire and fever and ecstasy of passionate love. 
 Tall slender and graceful, her dark rich dress trailing, her 
 rich laces " falling in a fairy shower," she seemed to float 
 toward him. Her eyes did not meet his ; and no gleam 
 of recognition came into the sweet colorless face. He 
 looked from her to the radiant girl by her side, " in whose 
 dark eyes was the light of the setting sun," her face bright 
 with beauty and love, her color vivid and exquisite as that 
 of a wild rose, her every movement replete with grace and 
 harmony. They differed as does a tall white lily from a 
 queenly red rose ; yet there was something of a resem- 
 blance they were alike in grace and subtle elegance of 
 figure, and in the queenly carriage of the head. 
 
 Leah led Hettie by the hand. She brought her to 
 where CEnone, in her eternal sorrow, bewailed a faithless 
 lover, where the exquisite tragic face looked out in its un- 
 changing despair. Leah had never appeared nor felt so 
 happy as when she laid Hettie's white hand in that of her 
 lover. She did not notice that one was cold as death and 
 the other burned like fire. She did notice that, when she, 
 with happy eyes and smiling lips, went through the cere- 
 mony of introduction, those two shrank from each other 
 as though the cold and darkness of a grave lay between 
 them. 
 
 " Hettie is so shy," said the elder sister, looking with
 
 3 o2 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 a smile at her lover. " She has been ill to-day ,; that 
 makes her quiet. Hettie, look at the picture. I per- 
 suaded Sir Arthur to buy it. I think the last lines in 
 Tennyson's poem of ' CEnone ' are the finest ever written, 
 and they are expressed in her face that beautiful young 
 face which is never to smile again." 
 
 " I do not remember them. What are they ? " said 
 Hettie, more to gain time than anything else. 
 
 *" A sound 
 
 Rings ever in her ears of armed men. 
 What this may be I know not, but I know 
 That, wheresoer I am by night and day, 
 All earth and air seems only burning fire.' " 
 
 Hettie turned away with a shudder which she could not 
 control. 
 
 " I can understand those words," Leah added, musingly; 
 " a passionate misery must be a burning pain." 
 
 The dinner-bell rang, and the general offered his arm 
 to Leah. 
 
 " We will leave these two to make friends," he said. 
 And Basil in silence went to Hettie. 
 
 " We shall never be able to bear it," he thought. " 1 
 must retire, or she." 
 
 Hettie laid her hand timidly upon his arm. He seized 
 it with a vehement, passionate grasp his very heart was 
 on fire and then as suddenly let it go. 
 
 How many hours of this torture would there be to pass ? 
 he thought. The blood ran like fire through his veins ; 
 every nerve and pulse thrilled with the sense of her pres- 
 ence ; yet he must sit there as the happy lover of Leah, 
 smile and talk and laugh unconcernedly. 
 
 "What, in Heaven's name, shall I do with my life," he 
 cried to himself, " if I find one day so hard to bear ? " 
 
 Hetti^ was excused from all effort, and her pale face 
 was accounted for by the fact that she had been ill.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 303 
 
 The dinner passed, and Leah was dimly conscious of 
 something being wrong, something she did not understand. 
 She was just a little disappointed that Sir Basil was not 
 warmer in his manner to Hettie. He spoke to her but 
 seldom, and it was always with averted eyes. She won- 
 dered if it were his great love for her which made him so 
 indifferent to the charms of her sister. 
 
 The ordeal was over at last. When the two girls had 
 left the dining-room, Sir Arthur turned with a laughing 
 face to his companion. 
 
 " It is not of much use for you to remain here," he 
 said. "Your heart has gone into the drawing-room, and 
 you may as well follow it." 
 
 " That is true," assented Sir Basil. 
 
 " I told you," continued the general, " what a difference 
 it makes to have two nieces instead of one, though Hettie 
 looks ill. I suspect her life has been harder than we 
 know." 
 
 " If ever a man felt inclined to cast himself headlong 
 into a fathomless abyss, I am that man," said Sir Basil to 
 himself, as he walked along the hall to the drawing-room. 
 " There never was so cruel a fate. Why did not some 
 good spirit warn me not to go near Southwood ? I feel 
 like a murderer when I think of those two girls." 
 
 He found them standing side by side before the new 
 picture. Hettie did not look at him ; but Leah, with a 
 glance, invited him to join them. 
 
 " I am fascinated with CEnone," she said. " How well 
 she loved Paris ! Do you think he made the wisest choice 
 in giving the golden apple to Aphrodite ? " 
 
 " Not perhaps the wisest," he replied. " One goddess 
 offered unlimited power, god-like supremacy, rest in a happy 
 place, and absolute sovereignty. The second offered hin> 
 calmest wisdom, soundest judgment,
 
 3 04 * BROKEN WEDDING-RING* 
 
 " Acting the law we live by without fear; 
 And, because right is right, to follow right 
 Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.* 
 
 The third, Idalian Aphrodite, beautiful, 
 
 " ' Fresh as the foam, new bathed in Paphian wells. 
 
 offered him love. ' I promise thee,' she said, ' the fairest 
 and most loving wife in Greece.' Love conquered/' 
 
 " How could that be," said Leah, quickly, " when Paris 
 loved CEnone first." 
 
 Over Sir Basil's handsome face swept a great scorching 
 blush. Ah ! how indeed ? How can a man understand his 
 own heart, or the great mystery of love ? 
 
 " I suppose," he said, " that the gods of old, like men 
 of all time, have been inconstant in love. So all poetry 
 and all mythology say." 
 
 " Oh, Basil, you do not mean it ! " and the light of 
 Leah's eyes flashed right into his. " Some men are surely 
 faithful ? " 
 
 Hettie moved away from the picture ; she went to the 
 other end of the room and took up a book. He looked 
 after her with haggard, wistful eyes ; every step of hers 
 seemed to draw his heart with it ; he did not know that life 
 could hold such torture. 
 
 "Basil," said the musical voice "you do not mean thatJ 
 I thought constancy was the gift of the gods.'* 
 
 " I have read that inconstancy is the pleasure of the 
 gods," he answered, laughing somewhat bitterly. " It may 
 be the scourge of men." 
 
 There was a minute's silence, and then a warm, white 
 hand stole into his, a dark head drooped near him, and a 
 voice that was sweet as the cooing of a dove, said, 
 
 " No matter who is false, you are true, Basil. You have 
 truth in your eyes and on your lips. If all the world proved 
 false, you would be the one true man in it." The dark 
 eyes were full of love, the beautiful lips seemed to woo
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 305 
 
 him. What could he do ? " You will always be true to 
 me, will you not, Basil ? You will always love me, my love, 
 better than all the world beside ? " 
 
 On the other side of the room was the girl he loved, her 
 fair face averted; near him was the despairing face of 
 CEnone, nearer still the brilliant face of the girl who loved 
 him with her whole heart. It was like a scene from a 
 tragedy to him. He half wondered if the lights would go 
 out and a curtain fall. If only the picture had been away, 
 and the desolation of unhappy love out of his sight, he 
 would have felt less distressed. 
 
 " Better than all the world ! " continued Leah. " How 
 weak and worthless a half love is ! I would sooner have 
 hate When CEnone's love was over, her life was ended, 
 No half love is worth having is it, Basil ? " 
 
 ** Heaven knows that it is not," he said, with a great 
 sigh. He saw the golden head move with a gesture of 
 weariness. " How hard it must be for her to bear this ! " 
 he thought ; and his mind went back to that one hour by the 
 sea, when mad hope, love and despair had mingled. He 
 whispered some words that comforted Leah she was so 
 easily made happy by him and then he said to her : " Let 
 us do something to amuse your sister ; she looks quite lonely 
 there." 
 
 And Leah, full of regret for her momentary forgetful 
 ness, hastened to her. The face that Hettie raised to hfti 
 sister was ghastly in its pallor. 
 
 "You are ill, Hettie!" said Leah. "Oh, my deal 
 what is wrong ? I will get a glass of water for you " and 
 she hastened away. 
 
 " I cannot bear it, Basil," said Hettie, looking at him 
 with miserable eyes. " I have not strength." 
 
 " Oh, my darling, I would give my life to undo it, to 
 save you from the consequences of rov fault, my wretched^ 
 miserable fault 1 "
 
 306 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 " What shall we do ? " asked the girl despairingly. 
 " What will become of us ? Leah loves you so. Help me 
 to be true to her and true to myself, Basil. How can I 
 turn traitress to the sweetest of sisters, the kindest and the 
 dearest ? I must go away ; I cannot stay here ! " 
 
 Was it fancy ? When Leah returned with the water in 
 her hand, it seemed to her that Sir Basil suddenly drew 
 back from Hettie. Was it fancy ? And, as she opened 
 the door, she thought she heard the words, uttered in a 
 soft, murmuring sigh, " I cannot bear it ! " She must have 
 been mistaken. She smiled as she thought what an absurd 
 fancy it was. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 SIR BASIL'S thoughts were gloomy ones as he walked 
 home to Glen. What was he to do ? This state of things 
 could not last. Even if he could control himself, Leah 
 was so quick that she would soon perceive what it was that 
 
 was amiss with Hettie and then Well he thought it 
 
 would be far easier to meet death in any shape than to 
 meet Leah after she knew his secret. He could not wit 
 ness Hettie's suffering, nor could he bear to think of 
 Leah's despair. He could not understand the difficulties 
 by which he was encompassed ; he was like one groping 
 in the dark. He determined that he would rest his brain 
 and his thoughts, and then decide. 
 
 It was easier to plan than to do. No rest, no sleep 
 came to him that night. The sisters seemed to stand on 
 either side of his pillow Hettie whom he worshiped, Leah 
 who loved him. He told himself that, if this lasted much 
 longer, he should go mad. 
 
 The morning brought him sad intelligence a note
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-ZItSG. 
 
 3>7 
 
 from Leah saying that Hettie was ill, and that the doctor, 
 for whom they had sent in all haste pronounced it a danger- 
 ous case of brain fever. 
 
 " Come over as soon as you can and comfort me, Basil. 
 I cannot endure to think that I have found my sister only 
 to lose her." 
 
 " If she dies, I have murdered her," he said to himself 
 bitterly. 
 
 He went over at once and found the whole household in 
 despair. The general met him with outstretched hand and 
 grave face. 
 
 " Brain-fever ! " he said, " Basil, what can have caused 
 brain-fever ! I cannot understand it. And she is in dan- 
 ger really in danger ? Poor pretty Hetty ! What is to 
 be done ? " 
 
 There was no need for Sir Basil to express his sympa- 
 thy. If anything could have comforted Sir Arthur in this 
 hour of his distress, it would have been the hearty, honest, 
 evident grief of his young- companion. 
 
 " I have seen and known very little of illness," contin- 
 ued the general. " I can tell a case of jungle-fever, and I 
 understand ague ; but brain-fever it is positively awful, 
 Basil ! I thought brain-fever was the result of trouble, 
 worry, sorrow, or some great mental anxiety." 
 
 " So I have always understood," said Sir Basil ; *' but 
 then you tell me she has had a troubled life." 
 
 " So she has, poor child ; I am sure of that. This is 
 one of the evils of life that we must bear with patience. 
 We have done all that is possible. I have telegraphed to 
 London for two experienced nurses I cannot have Leah 
 always in the sick room and now we must await the 
 result." 
 
 " Does the docter think there is danger ? " asked Sir 
 Basil, with white lips. 
 
 ** "jcs the fever runs high, and she is very weak. X
 
 3 o8 ^ BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 hope for Leah's sake, you will spend as much time here as 
 possible. The days will be dreadfully depressing for her, 
 poor child." 
 
 " You may rely upon me," said Sir Basil. " Indeed, 
 the difficulty would be for me to keep away. My world is 
 here.'* 
 
 It was indeed a melancholy time. For many days 
 the shadow of death lay over the household. There were 
 hushed voices, silent footsteps, and fervent prayers for the 
 beautiful young girl who lay quite unconscious of all that 
 passed. Everything that skill and love could suggest was, 
 but done,for many days the issue was doubtful. It was Leah's 
 first experience of illness or physical suffering and it impres- 
 sed her greatly. The house was put under a discipline. No 
 visitors came ; there was no sound heard. Piano, harp, 
 singing all were tabooed. Leah would have shut out if 
 she could the soughing of the wind and the creaking of the 
 great bare boughs. It was the strange death like silence 
 that made the place seem so unearthly. Not even the bark- 
 ing of a dog was allowed near the mansion. The poor 
 tortured brain could not endure the least sound. It was a 
 piteous sight to see the fair head tossing restlessly to and 
 fro on the white pillow ; it was never still from one side to 
 the other it turned with unwearied motion ; and the mutter- 
 ing which is perhaps the most awful accompaniment of 
 brain-fever never ceased. None of the sufferer's words 
 were intelligible; her utterance was only an inarticulate mur- 
 mur vague and terrible. Once or twice, when Leah was 
 with her, she thought she overheard the word " Glen," but 
 she concluded it must have been fancy. It brought no 
 meaning to her, although it was the name of her lover's 
 home. 
 
 During those long weeks of weary suffering no man 
 could have been more miserable than Sir Basil. He wan- 
 dered round the house like a shadow. He could not bear
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING* 309 
 
 to leave it, nor could he bear to be left alone. He seemed 
 to spend the greater part of the day in asking but one ques- 
 tion from different people : " How is she now ? " He grew 
 thin, pale and haggard, years seemed to have fallen on 
 him. 
 
 Leah was troubled about him, and warned him to be 
 careful, for he looked as though he were about to have a 
 severe illness himself. 
 
 One day, while the general and Sir Basil were walking 
 along the high-road that led to Arley, they met a huge 
 lumbering wagon on its way to the hall. When they drew 
 near to it, they found that it was from the railway. The 
 driver stopped when he saw Sir Arthur, and asked if he 
 was to drive through the park. 
 
 " What have you there ? " asked the general, in wonder. 
 
 " Ten packages," answered the burly driver. " Would 
 you like to see the book, Sir Arthur ? " 
 
 The general looked at it, and found that there were ten 
 packages from Southwood. Then he remembered that, 
 when leaving there, several things in the cottage were 
 packed up, and left at the railway-station to be forwarded 
 to Brentwood Martin Ray's writing-desk, his favorite 
 books, one or two things that the girls prized, Hettie's 
 music, and what few mementoes remained of the dear dead 
 mother. It occurred to Sir Arthur that any knowledge of 
 the arrival of these things would be hurtful to Hettie ; so 
 he tore a leaf from his pocket-book, and on it wrote a note 
 to Leah, telling her that the packages were from Southwood 
 and that they had better be put away in some remote 
 corner of the house until Hettie had quite recovered, and 
 the sight of them would not hurt her. He gave directions 
 that the wagon should not go near the hall. 
 
 " No one can tell," he said, " what harm the sound 
 might do to Hettie ; " and Basil was struck by his kindly 
 consideration.
 
 jio * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 Leah read the note and hastened to give the necessary 
 orders. The packages were stowed away in one of the 
 unused rooms of the western wing. One of them, a square 
 packet, attracted Leah's attention. She unfastened the 
 canvas in which it was folded, and found that it was her 
 father's writing-case. Heaven only knew what burningj 
 bitter words had been written on it ! How well she remem- 
 bered the case ! How often she had seen her father seated 
 at it, with frowning brows and flashing eyes ! It lay open 
 before him on the day that she had left him the day he 
 had cursed her. She thought of Hettie's words, that the 
 curse must have fallen on her by mistake, and she reflected 
 that it was indeed true that everything had gone wrong 
 with her hapless sister. If Leah could but have known 
 what the desk contained, she would not have looked at it 
 with such careless eyes. 
 
 She forgot all about the packages. Hettie, though weak 
 as a little child, hardly able to see or hear, was out of dan- 
 ger, and the doctors agreed that she had taken the critical 
 turn which leads to health. The terrible strain of anxiety 
 was ended, the great mental stress over. Every one in 
 the house breathed more freely. During her illness Hettie 
 had endeared herself to all. Her sweetness and patience^ 
 the severity of her sufferings, her thought for others, hei 
 loving gratitude, were things to be remembered ; and, when 
 it seemed certain that she would not die of this terrible 
 fever, the rejoicing was great. 
 
 Once more the cheerful sound of merry voices was heard. 
 Hettie, half amused, half alarmed at her own feebleness, 
 slowly traced the path that leads from sickness to health. 
 It would be some weeks yet, the doctor said, before she 
 could be taken downstairs or allowed to see any one 
 even the general. It was five weeks since the evening 
 when she had cried out to Sir Basil that she could not bear 
 her pain, and the overwrought brain had suddenly given
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 31 s 
 
 way , it would be some weeks more before she saw him 
 again. When she was strong, when her brain was clear, and 
 she could think without a hundred fancies weaving them- 
 selves in her thoughts, she would make up her mind with 
 regard to her future. 
 
 Once or twice, when she had so far recovered as to be 
 able to take notice of what was passing around her, Sir 
 Basil had sent her, by Leah, a few flowers. She took them 
 without a word, and laid them down languidly. She did not 
 show the least desire to take care of them, and made no 
 remonstrance when they were removed. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 "WHAT shall I do to rouse her? " said Leah to herself, 
 one morning, after her usual conversation with the doctor. 
 " She is sweet-tempered, loving, and grateful ; but she seems 
 to have lost all desire to live." 
 
 Suddenly Leah bethought herself of the packages 
 from Southwood. Surely among them she would find 
 something that, by memory or association, would startle 
 her mind into activity. 
 
 Leah went to the unused room in the western wing 
 where the packages lay, and the writing-case was the first 
 thing that caught her attention. It was probable there 
 would be among her father's papers something which would 
 remind Hettie of her old home and rouse her into a more 
 active state of mind. She opened the case and found it 
 filled with documents. Martin Ray had evidently arranged 
 it before his death. There, all yellow with age, the thin 
 edges all worn with folding, were her mother's love-letters, 
 written many years before ! They were tied with blue
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 ribbon, and with them were fastened flowers that had soon 
 died. He had loved her fair young mother well to have 
 preserved these with such loving care. She would not 
 open them ; they were sacred to her, these letters written 
 by the hand so long dead. She kissed them with reverence f 
 wondering as she did so whether, if she died young, Basil 
 would keep her love-letters. She found certificates of her 
 parent's marriage, of .her mother's death and of her birth 
 and Hettie's. She found a life insurance policy for one 
 hundred pounds, which had evidently been intended for 
 Hettie. There were numerous other papers invitations 
 to political meetings, reviews of her father's books, articles 
 written in his favor, and articles that held him up to ridi- 
 cule and contempt. She found some letters which she 
 placed aside for destruction letters the contents of which 
 she well knew and shuddered to remember. There were 
 account books showing how Martin Ray had spent the 
 people's money : she turned from them with loathing. Ah, 
 what was this ? A letter in a square envelope, on which 
 was written, " For my daughter Leah, written now that I 
 know I am dying, to be sent or given to her after my 
 death." She looked at it again, mistrusting her eyes 
 while she read the words. 
 
 A letter from her father, written when he knew that he 
 was dying ! How was it that it had never been given to 
 her ? Plainly no one had known anything about it. He 
 had written it, meaning, without doubt, to give it to Hettie > 
 had put it in his desk, and had either forgotten it or his 
 sudden relapse into danger had put it out of his mind. 
 She recognized the bold, free hand-writing that had been 
 so characteristic of Martin Ray. She never doubted but 
 that it would be a loving letter, written to take from her 
 the horrible curse which had preyed so heavily on her 
 mind. She put it into the pocket of her dress ; she would 
 read it when she had finished her search. She would be
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 313 
 
 all the happier if that letter were a kind and loving one. 
 It had been a sore trouble to her that she had reached her 
 father's side too late, and that he had died calling for her, 
 and she was not there. 
 
 A few minutes later she had gone back to Hettie's 
 room, with many little mementoes of home that she thought 
 would interest her. Then a visitor arrived, one of the 
 ladies of the neighborhood, to make special inquiries after 
 Hettie. Leah went to the drawing-room to receive her* 
 and found that the general and the young baronet had 
 driven over to Glen. She v/as slightly disappointed. She 
 would have enjoyed a few minutes with Sir Basil ; it way 
 her one source of pleasure when she could leave Hettie. 
 She entertained her visitor, Lady Drake, with all the cnarm 
 of manner natural to her. Then, when she left, rrore 
 charmed than ever with the beautiful chatelaine of Brent 
 wood, Leah remembered the letter. 
 
 It was rather early to have the lamps lighted, though 
 the rooms were gloomy with a miserable yellow light. The 
 drawing-room was bright and gay with fiowers. A fire 
 burned in the grate ; the vivid flames rose and fell with a 
 dazzling light. The ruddy glow almost overpowered the 
 pale yellow light ; it fell with a wei'd effect on the beau- 
 tiful picture of " CEnone," and Leah was irresistibly 
 attracted to it. She drew an ea&y <:hair between the fire 
 and the picture, and looked at iC with wistful eyes. The 
 firelight fell on the vale of Ida, on the desolate figure, and 
 the beautiful face so full of despair. Then she bethought 
 herself that she would reau herl etter. She rose and 
 stirred the fire, rousing it ',nto a yet deeper glare ; then 
 she drew her chair nearer to the picture, watching the 
 ruddy glow as it lighted jp the despairing face of CEnone. 
 As she looked then, witw rest and repose in her dark eyes, 
 with tranquillity on hor beautiful face, she never looked
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 She opened the envelope ; it was a long letter, and she 
 half wondered what her father had to say to her. She 
 was lost to everything when she had read a few lines. Her 
 letter ran as follows, 
 
 " MY DEAR LEAH : I had sworn an oath that I would 
 never look at you, speak to you, or address you again. I 
 cursed you you, the child of my heart, whom I loved 
 better than all the world. You disappointed me in my 
 dearest hopes. The refusal to fulfil the mission for which 
 I had always intended you, has been the bane and the 
 blight of my life. In my rage and anger I cursed you. I 
 give you the opportunity of evading that curse by the no- 
 blest act of self -denial any woman can perform. Years ago, 
 when the choice was given you between a wealthy stranger 
 and your poor father, you gave up father, sister, home, and 
 clung to the stranger. It was a selfish and mercenary 
 proceeding. I will give you a chance of redeeming it by 
 an heroic act of self-sacrifice. You left your young sister 
 in a desolate home ; you left her motherless, friendless, 
 almost helpless ; you went to a brilliant, luxurious life. You 
 can atone for it now by giving up for her sake that which 
 you value most in the wide world. 
 
 " I have a story to tell you, Leah one that no one in 
 the world knows but myself, one that gives you a chance to 
 redeem yourself, to return sacrifice for sacrifice. I do not 
 demand it, I do not even ask it. When you have read what 
 I have to write, the issue must lie in your hands entirely. 
 
 *' In the summer-time I was standing before the cottage, 
 looking over the wall at the sea which washes the foot of 
 the green hill. There came upon me, quite suddenly and 
 silently, the handsomest young man I had ever beheld in 
 my life. Handsome is not the word ; he had a grand, noble 
 beauty, the like of which I had never seen. He came to 
 me and said that he was looking for the house of Martin 
 Ray. He was a frank, princely young fellow, and hf
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 spoke as though he rather admired Martin Ray. I talked 
 ro him. It was infinite pleasure to converse once more 
 with one who believed in me. I spent a pleasant hour with 
 him. He told me that he had been educated abroad, and 
 had but just returned to England, where he was anxiously 
 studyingpolitics, and that he wanted to understand my 
 political views. 
 
 " ' If you desire it,' I said to him, ' I will expound them 
 to you. If you are an aristocrat, do not say so, for I should 
 hate you ;' and he never told me his name. 
 
 " He came once when I was out, and I, returning home, 
 found him talking to Hettie. He said that he was waiting 
 for me ; but, if ever I read passionate love in a man's face, 
 it was in his. And then only did I begin to care about 
 who he was, for Hettie was changed, and I knew that her 
 heart had gone out to the stranger. I made inquiries, silent- 
 ly, cleverly, and I soon knew all. I found that his name 
 -vas Sir Basil Carlton, and that he was staying at Dene 
 Abbey with my foe, the Duke of Rosedene. I found that 
 my mortal enemy, Sir Arthur Hatton, with the girl who had 
 disowned me, was with him ; and once, in all your magnifi- 
 cence, I saw you, Leah. You passed me on the high-road ; 
 you were in a carriage with the duke and duchess, smiling, 
 proud, beautiful. I was on foot, and you did not know 
 that you had whirled past your father, without sign of rec- 
 ognition, without even the paling of your face or the 
 trembling of your lips. I heard, too, that Sir Basil was 
 your lover ; it was whispered to me, whether truly or falsely 
 I could not tell, that you cared much more for the young 
 baronet than he did for you, my proud, disdainful child. I 
 decided that I would watch events and see for myself if 
 that were true. O 
 
 " One day, when we were talking I was growing languid 
 and feeble then I told Sir Basil the outlines of our history 
 how the aristocrat, boasting of his birth and his wealti^
 
 A BROKEN WEDDIKG-RINQ* 
 
 had come to take my child from me. I told him of the 
 choice which the two sisters made how one had gone to 
 the stranger, giving up home, sister, me her father, how 
 the other, loving and faithful, had clung to me. I uttered 
 no name, I said no word which could lead him to think of 
 you. Then I asked him frankly what he thought of the 
 daughter who had deserted me and given up her sister. He 
 did not know of whom I was speaking, he had no clue ; he 
 simply heard, the story, and he judged you from his own 
 heart. He said the daughter who had so deserted me, 
 who had abandoned her sister, was ' selfish ;' that was his 
 word ' selfish.' Is it true, Leah ? If it be so, I give you 
 an opportunity of retrieving yourself, of making a sacrifice 
 that will prove you are not selfish." 
 
 Suddenly the blaze of the fire sec ,d to die out, and 
 the light faded. Leah could not see the letters ; they swam 
 in a mist before her eyes. She rose mechanically and went 
 to the fire ; she stirred it again. The flames flickered this 
 time on a face white as the face of the dead ; and she sat 
 down again where, when she raised her eyes, they must 
 fall on the dreary desolation and beauty of CEnone. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 THE firelight fell on the passages of the letter when Leah 
 opened it again, and it seemed to her as though the words 
 were written in blood, the scarlet flames leaping and playing 
 in mockery over it. It was a death-warrant that she Held 
 in her hands. She went on reading: 
 
 " I cannot tell what steps I should have taken or "Vhat 
 I should have done but that I was seize4 tAn wiU>
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 3I y 
 
 illness. Hdttie was mosc devoted to me ; she nursed me 
 by day and night. No man had ever a more devoted child. 
 1 contrasted my two daughters the one living at the great 
 house away over the green hill, in the midst of luxury and 
 magnificence, beautiful, dainty, and proud, ignoring my ex- 
 istence, not knowing, caring, or inquiring whether I was 
 living or dead, the other working for me by day and by 
 night, devoting her whole life to me. The contrast was 
 not in your favor, Leah. I was ill for many days, but I 
 know that he came. I slept in the front of the cottage ; 
 and during the summer nights, when the window was open, 
 I could hear the murmur of their voices, and I knew by 
 the sound of his, musical with love, how matters stood. 
 
 " Sometimes Hettie would tell me that the 'strange gen- 
 tleman' had been, and that he had left a message for me. 
 She always turned from me, lest I should read the secret 
 of her face. She never knew his real name ; if ever we 
 called him by name, we spoke of ' Glen,' which I knew to 
 be the title of his place. I was very ill during those few 
 days ; my thoughts were not clear. But there came a sum- 
 mer night when I felt better and stronger. I told Hettie 
 that I should get up and go down to the garden in the cool 
 of the evening. She objected very strongly. 
 
 " It would do me great harm, she said. And she seem- 
 ed so miserable about it that I lay still ; but afterward, 
 when she had gone downstairs, believing that I might 
 sleep for hours, I could not bear it. 
 
 " The summer wind came in at the open window 
 the birds were singing their even-song, the low chanting 
 of the waves sounded musical in the distance. I could 
 not rest. I rose, dressed myself, and stole quietly down 
 the stairs and out into the garden and round among the 
 trees, where * sfiould be hidden from sight, and could enjoy 
 thesweec evening air at my will. I was very weak, very 
 ill The fresh-scented air, for which I had longed so i
 
 318 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 tensely, sent me to sleep. I do not know how long I slept 
 there ; but when I awoke the moon was shining, and I 
 heard the sound of a woman's voice sobbing in great dis- 
 tress. I raised my head, and I saw a scene that has haunted 
 me until the memory of it has driven me to write this. I 
 did not listen purposely but I could not get away ; it was 
 to me as though I were present at a death-bed. The sobs 
 were Hettie's and she was bidding farewell to your lover, 
 Leah Basil Carlton. She loved him ah, me, how well ! 
 And he spoke up like the honest, frank, noble young fellow 
 he is. He told her how he had drifted unconsciously into 
 love for her, that he was bound in honor to marry some one 
 else, and therefore he must go. 
 
 " Leah, give heed to my words. I do not know why 
 Sir Basil asked you to marry him. I am sure that it was 
 not because he loved you. I am sure, too, that he acted 
 in all loyalty. He came down to Southwood and saw your 
 sister quite accidentally ; he fell in love with her without 
 knowing it. Hettie loves him with her whole heart, and 
 will love no one else while she lives. They parted in sor- 
 row and tears, both loyal, both honest, both true. Whether 
 they will meet again I know not I leave that with 
 you. The doctor has told me to-day that I have not many 
 weeks to live, and that nothing can change my fate. Leah, 
 I cursed you ; do this which I ask, and that curse will fall 
 harmless to the ground. When I am dying, I shall send for 
 you, and may be able to tell you this. When I am dead, ask 
 Sir Arthur Hatton to take Hettie home ; it will be safer, 
 far better for her : I can see it now. And, Leah, if )OU 
 would be truly noble, truly generous, if you would make a 
 glorious atonement for your selfish choice, if you would rise 
 far above the level of ordinary womanhood, if you would 
 change a curse into a blessing, if you wou'd do that which 
 will bring music, and beauty, and brightness into two lives* 
 give up your lover to Hettie, and let her wed him.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. pg 
 
 11 Do not -think I am heartless ; but, when I look at 
 Hettie, when I think of lier devotion and love, when I 
 think of her tenderness, and remember that those are qual- 
 ities you can live without, I urge upon you to resign your 
 lover, and let him marry Hettie. 
 
 " If and my heart does not deceive me as to what 
 you will do if you decide upon this, you must act wisely ; 
 for, if either of them suspect, the suspecting one will not ac- 
 cept the sacrifice, however much you may desire to make 
 it. Your desire in this world is to shine ; you prefer bril- 
 liancy to love. Love counted as nothing to you when a 
 stranger offered you wealth. Hettie would shun the bril- 
 liant glare of your life, and would care only for love. You 
 will wonder, Leah, when you have read this, whether I 
 have written it from motives of love or hate. From love ! 
 I alway thought you had something of the heroine in your 
 nature now I give you a chance of revealing it. If I may 
 map out your life, I should say, ' Marry for wealth and 
 position, where your beauty and grace will be appreciated, 
 where your pride will be looked on as an additional orna- 
 ment. Do not even seek the sweeter, softer consolations 
 of life ; they will be of no use to you.' " 
 
 She had reached the end of the letter, but her senses 
 were confused. Her brain was dazed ; she could not think 
 or realize her position. Her whole soul was steeped in 
 the horror of dull despair. Slowly she again turned to 
 the letter and re-read it line by line, word by word. The fire- 
 light, with its, red, flickering flame, fell on the white pages 
 as she did so, and on the desolate face of JEnone. 
 
 It was her sentence of death ; it was the warrant that 
 cut her off from all that was bright and beautiful in life. 
 The two whom she had loved and trusted had betrayed 
 her. Granted that Basil's betrayal had been unconscious 
 that he had fallen in love without knowing it he should 
 
 a
 
 j20 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 have told her. He should have trusted her, and have let 
 her decide. 
 
 " I should have given him his freedom," she said, with 
 a great tearless sob. " I should have set him free." 
 
 And Hettie, the fair young sister whom she had nursed 
 back from the very arms of death ? Ah, well she could not 
 say that Hettie had betrayed her, for she had learned to love 
 him without the faintest suspicion as to who he was ; but, 
 when she saw him there, when she knew that it was Leah's 
 lover for whom she had learned to care, she might surely 
 have trusted her then ! Lover and sister had betrayed her ; 
 lover and sister were both untrue to her. Her head drooped ; 
 the fire-flame died ; the desolate face of ^Enone faded. It 
 seemed to Leah as though her soul was leaving her body ; 
 a cold chill and sense of darkness came over her. 
 
 " If it be death, welcome death 1 " she said as the shad* 
 ows closed around her. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 IT was not death that came to Leah Hatton, only a 
 merciful insensibility. She woke to find all her nerves 
 tingling with pain, to find the crushed pages of her father's 
 letter hi her hand, the firelight shining on her. and the 
 face in the picture looking down upon her in its calm, 
 grand despair. She woke with a pain worse than the 
 thrust of a sharp dagger, with a low moan on her lips. 
 
 A faint glimpse of hope came to her. The story might 
 not be true. Her father did not like her, and he had per- 
 haps taken this method of punishing her. The very hope, 
 faint as it was, seemed to gladden her and startle her into 
 sudden brightness. The story might not be true. Let
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 32 K 
 
 her think, let her go back in mind to the past, and see if 
 anything in it bore out or contradicted it. She thought of 
 Dene Abbey first, and she remembered the great green 
 hill that rose between the estate and the town of Southwood. 
 It was on the other side of the hill that her father and sis- 
 ter had lived. She could not find that the faintest notion 
 of being near them had ever dawned upon her. No one 
 had spoken in her presence of a worn-out political agitator 
 who had come to Southwood to rest and die ; but she re- 
 membered that Sir Basil had been very strange when at 
 Dene. She thought of the long rambles, when, without 
 seeming reason, he had left her alone. They had puzzled 
 her at the time ; she understood them now. He had spent 
 those hours at the cottage with Hettie or with Martin Ray. 
 She remembered, his abstraction, his gloom, and her an- 
 xiety about him. 
 
 It seemed to her as though her brain were reeling. Strange 
 words rang through it, strange sounds came to her, and a 
 voice deeper and sweeter than any she had known sang : 
 
 " Sweet is all the land about, and all the flowers that blow. 
 And sweeter far is death than life to me that long to go." 
 
 There would be no sweet release of death for her. She 
 vould have to suffer through the long years alone. 
 
 The firelight played on the beautiful face of yEnone t > 
 whose sorrows she had sympathized with only yesterday. 
 Now a whole age seemed to part her from that time. She 
 tried to rise from the chair that she had drawn near the 
 picture, but there was no strength in her limbs. She could 
 not stand ; she must wait until the first shock of her pain 
 had passed. It seemed to her almost as though ^Enone 
 were living and was the only one who understood her 
 trouble. Great Heaven, how hard it was to bear ! 
 
 So, through all this time, Basil had never loved her ! 
 Why had he asked her to niarry him ? He had probably
 
 3 23 ^ BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 mistaken fancy for love, and only when he met Hettie 
 knew what love was. She (Leah) had worshipped him ; had 
 made no secret of it ; she had told him often, with kisses 
 and tears, that life held nothing for her but his love ! Oh, 
 bitter sorrow, bitter shame ! He had kissed her, listened 
 to her loving words, spoken to her of the future they 
 should pass together, He had prepared his house to be 
 her home ; he had given her a wedding-ring ; he had dis- 
 cussed his future with her ; she had thought of herself as 
 his wife. He had allowed her to tell him the deepest se- 
 crets of her heart ; to make her life one with his : he had 
 let her believe in his truth and his affection and all this 
 time he had no love for herself ! 
 
 Hettie had won him Hettie, with her ^air face and 
 wealth of golden hair, Hettie, whom ye.ars ago she had 
 forsaken ! It was Hettie whom he had loved, and not her- 
 self! 
 
 " I will judge him myself," she said ; and then slowly 
 in her own mind she went over the past, beginning with the 
 first hour that she had met him and ending with the pre- 
 vious evening, when he had parted from her with a pale, 
 worn face, as though life had little brightness for him. Not 
 one circumstance escaped her memory, She recalled the 
 little incident at the Royal Academy, when, referring to 
 the face that she had thought like Hettie's, he had said, 
 "It has the tenderness that yours lacks." Time went by un- 
 heeded. She forgot everything in the world but the task 
 she had set herself ; and each fact, each memory, as it 
 came home to her, brought with it confirmation of the 
 truth. 
 
 At last, with white, tearless face and with clinched 
 bands, she fell upon her knees with a bitter cry, 
 
 " It is all true," she moaned ; " every word is true ! " 
 How long she knelt in the glow of the firelight sh* 
 knew ; but it was the sound of the dressing-bell that
 
 A BROREfr WEDDING-RING. 
 
 3*3 
 
 at length aroused her. She stood up then, with a scared 
 look on her face. 
 
 " I must live through it ! " she said. '* I must meet 
 my uncle, and smile as though nothing were wrong ; I 
 must dress, talk, meet him who was my lover ; I must go 
 to see Hettie, with this sharp, bitter pain at my heart" 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 A month had elapsed since the fatal day on which 
 Leah had read her father's letter. She had made up her 
 mind now how to act. The doctors had agreed that Het- 
 tie would not recover until she had had change of air, and 
 it was arranged that, when the first breath of warm weath- 
 er came, the family were to go to the south of France. 
 The Duke and Duchess of Rosedene were already settled 
 there, so that there would be a " home party " after all. 
 There had been some mention of the wedding. Leah's 
 beautiful face had paled, and a wistful look had come in- 
 to her eyes. She said that the wedding must be delayed ; 
 there could be no thought of marriage when Hettie was in 
 such a fragile state of health. She spoke calmly, and smiled 
 when she remembered how little any one knew of the pain 
 at her heart. 
 
 The general had demurred slightly when she refused 
 to hear of the marriage taking place, as had been settled, 
 in the spring. 
 
 " Delayed marriages are always unlucky, Leah," he 
 said to her. 
 
 " Mine will not be so," she replied ; and he wondered 
 at the strange smile on her face. 
 
 He had thought a great deal lately about his favorite
 
 324 
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 niece she was so terribly changed. He tried to believe 
 that it was due to her anxiety concerning Hettie ; but that 
 was hardly possible. She had such a strange expression 
 on her face. He could not understand it, though he 
 watched her keenly. One thing in particular struck him. 
 She never spoke of the future, and her interest in every- 
 thing seemed dead. She laughed and talked ; but, to his 
 eyes, there was always more or less of effort when she did 
 so. Her face would flush, and the light in her eyes was 
 too bright. 
 
 Hettie noticed nothing ; her one great relief and source 
 of gratitude was that she would not have to go through 
 the trial of seeing Sir Basil again. The doctor had said 
 that she must go to Mentone as soon as possible, and that 
 in the meantime she must be kept perfectly free from all 
 excitement and must see no one. 
 
 Sir Basil and Hettie could never suspect that their 
 secret was known to Martin Ray : much less could they 
 imagine that it had been revealed to Leah by her father. 
 Whatever she did, they must believe it to be the expression 
 of her own feeling, the result of her own thoughts ; they 
 could not attribute it to any influence brought to bear 
 upon her. Her life just then was very quiet, owing to 
 Hettie's illness ; there was neither visiting nor the receiv- 
 ing of visitors, Had it been otherwise, the strain upon 
 her would have been too great, and she would have given 
 way. She lived through it, longing at morn for night, 
 longing at night for morning. Her heart was dead within 
 her she scarcely ate or slept. There were days when she 
 scarcely left her room ; when she sat there stunned, dazed, 
 bewildered with the weight of her own sorrow, the grief 
 piercing ever and ever deeper into her heart. 
 
 No one guessed her secret or imagined that, though 
 heiress of the vast wealth of Sir Arthur Hatton, and ac- 
 knowleged to be one of the most beautiful women in Eng-
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 325 
 
 land, she was, nevertheless, one of the most miserable 
 and desolate of human beings. There were times when 
 she reflected that she had read of the agonies of death, of 
 people lingering in torture, unable to die ; but surely no 
 agony had ever been so prolonged as hers. She saw every 
 day the man whom she loved so well, yet who had pre- 
 ferred another to her. She had to meet him, to appear as 
 usual with him, the horrible pain of wounded love and 
 jealousy gnawing like a hidden cancer in her breast. And 
 every day she had to minister to the sister who had sup- 
 planted her, to cheer and soothe her. When she was con- 
 sulted about the decorations and improvements at Glen, 
 which she knew well she would never see, she gave her 
 answer plainly and clearly. Without a break in her voice, 
 she chose colors and ornaments, and talked of harmonious 
 arrangements, and then went silently to her room to un- 
 dergo the agonies of despair. And when Sir Arthur talk- 
 ed about the future, about next year, when she would be 
 at Glen, she always replied to him with a smile but that 
 smile was sadder than any tears. 
 
 As the days passed, she grew thinner and paler, and 
 her eyes brighter. She never sang. She had never 
 touched her piano since the reading of the fatal letter. 
 Her interest in everything was dead. She spent more time 
 before the picture of CEnone than in any other place. The 
 terrible repression told upon her. If she could have spoken 
 of her loss, if she could have eased her heart by a flow 
 of passionate tears, it would have been better. But there 
 was no such relief : it was all speechless, dark, unchanging 
 sorrow. Great, silent woe looked out of the dark eyes. 
 
 " I wonder," she said to herself, " if I have accurately 
 measured my strength. 
 
 All the arrangements were made for the journey ; the 
 Duke and Duchess of Rosedene were awaiting anxiously 
 the arrival of the sisters, when a complication arose. The
 
 326 * BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 member for the county had died suddenly, and this brought 
 about the very opening for wh'ch Sir Basil had longed. He 
 was determined to contest the election, to secure his seat 
 in Parliament, and then to make for himself fame and the 
 name of a statesman. He was born for it ; politics were his 
 vocation. This was an opportunity not to be lost. With, 
 some exertion, and the help of Sir Arthur Hatton, he felt 
 sure of success. Of course he could not accompany 
 the sisters, as had been arranged, to France, so it was 
 decided that Sir Arthur should take them thither and 
 remain for a day or two, and then return at once to help 
 with his canvass. 
 
 The news affected the sisters differently. Hettie had 
 dreaded the journey with Sir Basil, yet had not liked to 
 raise any objection. Leah had told herself that she should 
 take her last look at his beloved face on English soil. She 
 made no remark when Sir Arthur told her of the change 
 in their plans ; and he was blind enough to think that her 
 silence arose from some little resentment against her lover 
 so little idea had any one of the true facts of the case. 
 They thought Leah very quiet for some days after that. 
 Who could guess that in her own mind she was bidding 
 adieu to the place she loved so well ? 
 
 Once she asked Sir Arthur to drive her over to Glen 
 Sir Basil had gone to London on business. The general 
 was delighted at the request ; he rejoiced to think that 
 Leah took so great an interest in the improvements. 
 
 As he drove her along the road he jested with her and 
 teased her, he did not notice that she sat by his side, cold 
 and pale as a marble statue with such an expression of bit- 
 ter pain on her face as would have startled even a stranger. 
 She was going to say good-by to the beautiful house that 
 would never be her home now. She wanted to look once 
 more on the lavish decorations, at the rooms prepared for 
 her, which she would never use. She tried to picture Het
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 327 
 
 tie there Hettie, with her sweet face and golden hair, 
 who would be so well suited to this dainty, picturesque 
 home ; and she wondered as she went through the rooms, 
 whether, when Basil was established there, with Hettie as 
 his wife, he would think of her ; whether he would remem- 
 ber her and her great love ; whether any idea would come 
 to him of her suffering or of her broken heart. 
 
 " You look very tired and ill, Leah," said the general, 
 in deep concern. 
 
 He had caught a sight of her as she came from the 
 room that was to have been her boudoir, and she was off 
 her guard. He was shocked at the white face and the 
 dark, haggard eyes. He kissed her lovingly. 
 
 " My dear Leah, what is the matter? Is there anything 
 more than fatigue ? " 
 
 She raised her brave face to his he never forgot the 
 look or the voice, and said, 
 
 " No, there is nothing wrong ; and I have done nothing 
 which could tire me." 
 
 She looked round for the last time upon a scene that 
 she was never to see again ; and, as she drove back, she 
 felt that the pain at her heart could never be sharper. 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 " THERE is something strange in Miss Hatton's face to- 
 day," said Leah's maid to her confidante, the housekeep- 
 er. " No one seems to notice anything wrong about her ; 
 but I am very anxious. She is so thin that I can never 
 make her dresses to fit her now ; and she is often so color- 
 less that I have to use poudre de rose to make her present- 
 able she who had the loveliest bloom in the world."
 
 A BROKEN WRDDING-RING. 
 
 " I see the change," returned the housekeeper, gloom, 
 ily. " She thinks too much of other people. There is 
 nothing like taking care of one's self. She has studied 
 everything for Miss Hettie's comfort, but I have never 
 heard her speak of herself." 
 
 " I cannot make it out," said the maid. " I am sure 
 she has not been to sleep all night ; she has sat up. I 
 saw death in her face when I went into the room." 
 
 " I should think there is nothing wrong between her 
 and Sir Basil," remarked the housekeeper. 
 
 " No, I am sure there is not," was the reply. " They 
 are to be married when she comes back from France. 
 Still I am unhappy about her; there is something the mat- 
 ter, I am quite sure. One night I had to go to her room, 
 and she was moaning in her sleep like a dying child : and 
 I have never seen such a face as she had when I went into 
 her room this morning. 
 
 For the day and the hour were come. Sir Basil was 
 to go with them as far as Dover, and see them safely on 
 board. They were all four to start by the midday train 
 from Arley to London. 
 
 Leah had measured her strength that morning, and 
 found it rapidly failing. 
 
 " I could not live through two more days of it," she 
 said. " Thank Heaven, it is almost over ? " 
 
 She was passive, while her maid took all the pains 
 she could to hide the shrinking of the graceful figure, the 
 pallor of the beautiful face. She must keep up appearances 
 while she was in England, among those who knew her ; 
 but, when she was across the sea, she could give way, she 
 Could droop and die as she would but not here. 
 
 She bade farewell to the grand old home where she 
 had been so utterly, but so falsely happy. She stood for 
 some time on the terrace where the passion-flowers ere\v - 
 the spot where she had seen her lover first, and where
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING^RING*. 339 
 
 her heart had gone out to him. She kissed the bare 
 brown branches. They would live again ; they would be 
 covered with green leaves and starry flowers when leaves 
 and flowers should gladden her eyes no more. She 
 kissed the pictured face of ^Enone, recalling every word 
 that had been spoken between Sir Basil and herself on that 
 day when they had stood in front of it. It was like part- 
 ing with a living friend. She stretched out her hands with 
 a great cry when she took her last look round the room 
 where she had spent such happy hours. All earth and air 
 seemed burning fire. Oh for rest, for change, for the cold- 
 ness even of the grave ? 
 
 Those who saw Miss Hatton's face when she left Brent- 
 wood never forgot it. 
 
 It was a strange journey to Dover. Sir Arthur was 
 the only one who talked. Hettie avoided either looking 
 at or speaking to Sir Basil, and Leah could have laughed 
 in bitter amusement at the scene. Sir Arthur spoke of his 
 nieces's return, of the marriage, of Glen, of Basil in 
 Parliament, and saw nothing wrong. 
 
 They stood together on deck at last, a blue sky above 
 them, the sun shining on the white cliffs of Dover and on 
 the sea, which was almost as smooth as a mirror. 
 
 Sir Arthur took Hettie to the other side of the vessel. 
 
 " They will have so much to say to each other ; lovers 
 always have. We will leave them alone, Hettie." 
 
 So they stood side by side, the deathly pallor of eah's 
 face bidden by her veil. A terrible calm had fallen over 
 her. She loved Sir Basil still with her whole heart ; she 
 could have knelt down there, and have covered his hands 
 with burning kisses and burning tears. She held them 
 for moment in a close grasp, while she looked in his 
 face for the last time. The solemn shadow of eternity 
 Jay over her. Q 
 
 He was telling her something about Glen and about
 
 330 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 Parliament. She did not hear the words. To her the 
 moment was solemn, as though her soul were on her lips, 
 and her eyes were fixed on his with a strained, lingering 
 gaze. How well she had loved him ! And he had cared 
 nothing for her ; he had preferred some one else. He was 
 asking her if she was sorry to leave him, and she was un- 
 able to answer him. The white lips were quite stiff and 
 cold. 
 
 Then there came a shout from the sailors. All was in 
 readiness ; those who were for shore must leave. The 
 moments were numbered ; her eyes never left him, her 
 hand still held his. 
 
 " I must go," he said. " Good-by, Leah." 
 
 He bent down and kissed her lips. He started to 
 find them so cold. 
 
 " Good-by," he repeated. " A pleasant, prosperous 
 journey, Leah, and a happy return." 
 
 " Good-by, Basil ; good-by my love," she said : and 
 the next moment she was looking over the waters alone. 
 
 The rest of the journey was like a dream to her, and 
 she never awoke from it until she stood in the salon of 
 the villa at Mentone, and saw the duchess regarding her 
 with tearful eyes. 
 
 " Great Heaven," she cried, " this is not Leah ; this 
 is a shadow 1 I thought it was Hettie who had been 
 ill!" 
 
 " So it was. I have not been ill," said a voice which 
 the duchess hardly recognized as Leah's. " I am well ; 
 $but my journey has tired me." 
 
 " What can be the matter ? What has gone wrong in 
 the girl's life ? " thought the kindly woman. " The only 
 thing that she reminds me of is a flower broken by a tem- 
 pest." 
 
 When chance gave her a few minutes alone with the 
 general, she turned to him with an anxious tace.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 33 1 
 
 ' Sir Arthur," she said, abruptly, " What has hap. 
 pened to Leah ? " 
 
 " To Leah ? Nothing," he replied. 
 
 " Nothing ! " said the duchess. " Are you blind, that 
 you cannot see ? She has death in her face." 
 
 " My dear duchess, you exaggerate," answered Sir 
 Arthur, laughing. " She has not been well lately ; she 
 has tired herself by nursing Hettie. Besides, the journey 
 has been a trying one." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said the duchess. " That will not ac- 
 count for the change. Tell me for I am her best friend 
 is all right between Leah and Sir Basil ? " 
 
 " Yes. The wedding has been delayed on account of 
 Hettie's illness, but Leah does not mind it. Basil would 
 have been with us now but for the Parliamentary busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " And you are quite certain that there has been no 
 misunderstanding between them ? " pursued the duchess. 
 
 " Certain ? Most assuredly ! Basil came with us a$ 
 far as Dover ; and you should have seen the lovers parting ! 
 All is right there." 
 
 " Beautiful Leah Hatton is going to die," said the 
 duchess to herself ; " and nothing will persuade me that 
 all is well between her and her lover." 
 
 The general did not feel quite so sure that all was right 
 when he parted from his niece. She was not looking well, 
 certainly, and the way in which she hung round his neck 
 with kisses, and murmured words of gratitude struck him. 
 
 The duchess made one effort to win the girl's confi- 
 dence. The family had been a week at Mentone, and 
 Het,tie was already much better. 
 
 " Leah," she said, gently, one day, taking her hand, 
 *' you know I have always been your best friend. I love 
 you with a great affection, and I am more than distressed 
 about you. You are not happy 5 will you tell me why ? "
 
 332 ^ BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 Leah bent her head and kissed the kindly hand that 
 rested in her own. 
 
 " I am as happy as it is my nature to be," she replied, 
 gently. 
 
 " Tell me, Leah, is all well with you and Sir Basil v " 
 
 "All is well," she answered. " Dear duchess, I have 
 nothing to tell. If I had, it would be told to you, my 
 best friend." 
 
 Her Grace of Rosedene was not satisfied. 
 
 " If there is nothing to cause you any unhappiness 
 then I am convinced that you are altogether out of health. 
 No girl could look as you do without some reason for it. 
 You have completely changed. Every one is asking me 
 what is wrong with you." 
 
 After that Leah took a sudden resolution. 
 
 There was in Mentone a celebrated English physician, 
 Dr. Evan Griffiths a skilful, prosperous man, very popular 
 among the invalids and the English at Mentone. He lived 
 with his mother in a pretty little villa. Topular as he was, 
 he had never married. It was said that he had no time 
 for wooing. 
 
 One evening, as Dr, Griffiths sat alone in his study, 
 the servant announced a young lady. She had sent no 
 card and had given no name, but looked very ill. 
 
 At first the doctor felt annoyed. He had no liking 
 for mysterious patients, and felt it hard that he could not 
 have one cigar in peace over the Lancet. 
 
 " Show the lady in here," he said, impatiently. 
 
 But his impatience died away when a tall, closely veiled 
 woman came in and stood silently before him. 
 
 She did not speak until the servant had closed the 
 door, then she raised her veil so that he could see her 
 face and he was startled by its delicacy and wonderful 
 beauty. 
 
 " I know that I am calling at an unusual time/' sha
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 333 
 
 said. " I thank you much for seeing me. I have a ques- 
 tion to ask a question of life or death. Will you answer 
 it ? " 
 
 " If I can," said the doctor. " Does it concern your- 
 self .' " 
 
 " Yes." she replied. 
 
 And then he felt that death and not life would be th< 
 answer, if he could judge from her face. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 DR. GRIFFITH placed a chair for his beautiful young 
 patient, and, standing by the table, waited until she spoke. 
 
 " Do people," she said abruptly," ever die of a broken 
 heart ? " 
 
 " I have never known a case," answered the doctor, 
 " though I have heard and read of such a thing." 
 
 " Some months since," she said, looking at him with 
 calm, grave eyes, " I was as strong as any one could wish 
 to be. I had splendid health and a perfect constitution. 
 Now I have hardly strength to live, and every one thinks I 
 am in danger." 
 
 " There must be a reason for it," remarked the doctor, 
 quietly. 
 
 *' There is a reason, which I will tell you, and I want 
 you to judge if it will kill me. I have had within the last 
 two months a trouble a terrible trouble one that I 
 have had to bury in the depths of my heart. I could not 
 speak of it, or hint it, or place confidence in any living 
 creature concerning it, I have shut my secret in my heart, 
 and it has been preying upon it, It has eaten my heart
 
 334 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 away. The constant repression, the desperate efforts I 
 have made to seem as usual, have been too much for me; 
 and now I feel sure that I have some affection of the heart 
 which will soon put an end to my life." 
 
 He began to understand something of the case. 
 
 " Do you want to live ? " he asked briefly. 
 
 " No I want to die," she answered. 
 
 Then came a string of questions, all which she answered 
 candidly enough. The doctor knit his brows, and was 
 silent for some time : then he listened to the action of the 
 heart, and grew graver still. 
 
 " I think," he said, " that you have always had a 
 great tendency to heart-disease ; and now, I am sorry to 
 say, it is a confirmed case." 
 
 Her face brightened, and she murmured a few words 
 to herself which he did not hear. 
 
 " I wish," she said gravely, " to hear the plain truth. 
 It will not frighten me. I prefer death to life." 
 
 " It is a hard truth which I have to tell you," he an- 
 swered, gently. 
 
 " I am ready to hear it," she said. 
 
 " It is this. I think it probable that you have always 
 had a tendency to heart disease. Perhaps, had your life 
 been happy and without trouble, it might never have de- 
 veloped itself ; but the pain you have suffered and the re- 
 pression have made it fatal. You understand the word 
 fatal ?' " 
 
 " Yes, I understand," she said, " and I thank Heaven ! 
 I am very ill. At times my heart seems to stand still, k 
 ceases almost to beat. A cold perspiration comes ; my 
 face, my hands, and lips grow cold ; it seems to me that in 
 another moment I shall die. Again it beats until I cannot 
 bear the trembling of my own body and my blood is all oa 
 fire." 
 
 " Yes ; those are symptoms of disease," he said.
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 335 
 
 " Tell me doctor," she asked " how long do you think 
 1 have to live ? " 
 
 " Not long," was the grave reply. " In a great measure 
 it lies in your own hands. If you could get rid of this care, 
 if you could prevent yourself from brooding over it, if you 
 could rouse yourself, you might live a little longer." 
 
 " I could not," she said : " the restraint has been too 
 great and too persistent. Will you tell me what the end 
 will be like ? " 
 
 " I wish you would not ask me," he answered, looking 
 pitifully at the fair face. 
 
 " It will be the greatest service you can render me," 
 she said. " It matters so little to me. If I have some 
 months to live, I shall carry out an intention which I have 
 formed : if not, I shall forego it ! Tell me, doctor." 
 
 " You will not live for months," he said" the greatel 
 the pity." 
 
 " The greater the joy ! " she cried. " Will it be weeks ? " 
 
 " Weeks in all probability," he replied. 
 
 " And the end ? " she asked again. 
 
 " The end will be sudden and peaceful," he answered. 
 " It may be at any time. Any sudden sorrow or joy might 
 prove fatal. Calmness, peace, resignation, are your great- 
 est helps. Poor child," he said, in an outburst of sud- 
 den, tender pity " poor child ! Life has been hard for 
 you!" 
 
 " Very hard," she declared. 
 
 " I wish," he said, " that you would follow my advice. 
 I could not save your life, but I might prolong it." 
 
 " No," she replied. " I am staying here at Mentone ; 
 I shall die here, and, when I die, they will be sure to send 
 for you. You will not say that you have seen me ? " 
 
 " I will not," he promised. 
 
 "Accept my best thanks," she said, holding out her 
 hand to him. " I knew there was something radically
 
 336 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 wrong ; I am happier and easier, now that I understand 
 Vrhat it is. You have done me a service. Farewell 1 " 
 
 He thought of her a hundred times. He wished that 
 he had detained her, that he had forced her to send for 
 her friends. He reproached himself until the end of his 
 life, and yet he had not been to blame. 
 
 " You look better to-night, Leah," said the duchess. 
 The deadly pallor had left the fair face, and there was a 
 smile in the dark eyes. " I feel more at ease about you." 
 
 Leah smiled to herself. She was better because she 
 was drawing nearer to the golden shore. 
 
 There followed two quiet, peaceful, and happy weeks, 
 of which Hettie liked to think afterward. It struck her at 
 times that Leah looked weak and ill, but she made no 
 complaint. 
 
 News came from England that Sir Basil had been re- 
 turned member for the county. The duke and duch- 
 ess were delighted. Hettie was pleased, and talked more 
 about it than she talked of anything else. 
 
 Leah went to her room ; the sun shone bright and warm, 
 and the air was full of the perfume of flowers. She was tired, 
 with a peculiar feeling of longing for rest which was new 
 to her, and her senses had been suddenly sharpened. She 
 could see further ; she could hear with almost painful dis- 
 tinctness. She had a letter to write, but the feeling of fa- 
 tigue was so strong upon her that she was hardly inclined to 
 commence her task. " I will do it at once, and then it will 
 not trouble rae," she said to herself. She went to one of 
 her jewel-cases which was kept locked, and which opened 
 only with a peculiar key. From it she took the small ring 
 case that Sir Basil had given her, and drew from it the 
 old-fashioned wedding-ring with which she was to have 
 been married. But, as she lifted it from the case, it 
 snapped and fell in two in her hands. Whether it had been 
 put away in gome awkward fashion, or whether some one,
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 337 
 
 in looking over the jewel-case, had taken the ring out, acci- 
 dentally broken it, and replaced it without mentioning the 
 fact, she could not tell. She was not superstitious, she 
 did not think it an omen or augury of evil ; but it gave 
 her a terrible shock. She trembled as though some great 
 disaster had occurred. She had intended to write to Sir 
 Basil, and return him the ring, leaving the letter to be 
 handed to him. Now it lay broken in two the ring that 
 had been worn by so many faithful wives, that had been 
 given by so many loving husbands the ring that she had 
 received with such loving trust and confidence the ring 
 that she had hoped to wear until she ".ay dead and Basil 
 took it from her. 
 
 It was broken now, like her love, her heart, her life. 
 What would Basil do ? she wondered. Would he have it 
 mended ? Would Hettie ever wear it ? She had never 
 shed a tear since she had found that Basil did not love her, 
 but her eyes grew dim as she looked at the broken ring. 
 She kissed it as though it had been a living thing and 
 understood her action. 
 
 A broken wedding-ring is never a pleasant sight, and 
 is always supposed to be an omen of misfortune, but there 
 was 'something unutterably sad about this. It signified so 
 much : the heart of the girl to whom it belonged was 
 broken as surely as the wedding-ring which lay before her 
 snapped in two. She took the two halves and folded them in 
 a sheet of paper, sealed it, and addressed it to Sir Basil, 
 then she drew towards her a sheet of paper to write the let 
 ter which she felt was to be the last she would ever pen.
 
 BROKEN WEDDING-RIMG> 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 LEAH looked out at the golden sunshine and the bright 
 blue sky.. How fair the earth was ! It seemed hard that 
 every one could not be happy, that hopes must perish, love 
 be wrecked, life all spoiled. Then she began to write. 
 That moment presented the supreme temptation of her life. 
 She longed so intensely to tell him that she knew all, to 
 reproach him that he had preferred another, to tell him 
 that it was the knowledge of this fact which had killed 
 her. She longed to say this to him. It seemed so hard 
 to die and make no sign. He would live and be happy, 
 and no one would ever know what she had suffered or why 
 she had died. 
 
 She sat for some time with the pen in her hand. It 
 was the one great temptation of her life. Should she tell 
 him or not ? When she came to die, should she feel any 
 the happier that she had left him with this sting in his 
 breast, this memory which would always be to him one of 
 bitter pain ? It would be ample vengeance. If he knew 
 that her unhappiness had killed her, he could never be 
 happy again. He was honorable and sensitive ; the chances 
 were that if he knew the truth he would never marry Het- 
 tie. He was not one to build his happiness on the grave 
 cf the woman who had loved him so well. She judged him 
 rightly. If ever he knew or suspected the truth, he would 
 never have another happy moment. It was a great temp- 
 tation. Her heart throbbed with it, her whole frame 
 trembled ; and then with a supreme effort she conquered 
 it. They nay, even he whom she loved, when he heard 
 her story had pronounced her selfish. She could prove 
 now that that was untrue. She could make the greatest sao
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ;.-> 
 
 rifice that any woman could make, all the more noble tnat 
 it would remain for ever a secret between Heaven and her. 
 self. She would not tell him one word. If in that past 
 life of hers she had been selfish, her selfishness would be 
 atoned for now. She could write a simple letter, saying 
 nothing of love or reproach, nothing of life or death, but 
 telling him that she had found the wedding-ring broken. 
 " My very dear Basil : To my surprise this morning, on 
 opening my jewel-case, I found the wedding-ring broken. 
 I inclose it. You know better what to do with it than 
 
 Swiftly, suddenly, as had been foretold, death came to 
 her, without pain, without bitterness, without agony. The 
 pen dropped from the white fingers ; her head fell upon 
 the paper. She died with a smile on her lips. There was 
 not even a spasm of pain, no faint murmur or cry. The 
 throbbing, laboring, broken heart had stopped at last. 
 With the wind that chanted a requiem among the great 
 trees her soul rose to heaven, and the body left behind grew 
 
 cold and beautiful in the embrace of death. 
 
 ********* 
 
 So they found her, dead, with the half-written letter 
 and the broken wedding-ring. 
 
 The duchess was almost frantic. She refused to believe 
 that Leah was dead, it was utterly impossible, she declared. 
 She called for brandy, wine, hot water every possible 
 restorative. She would not see the mark of death on the 
 beautiful face. She sent for doctors, and one of the first 
 was Dr. Evan Griffiths. 
 
 He recognized her at once This was the despairing 
 girl who had come to him longing with her whole heart to 
 die ; and the longing had been granted. He was accustom- 
 ed to many a sad sight and scene, to every kind of sick- 
 ness and distress ; but he had seen nothing which touched
 
 340 A BROKE* WEDDi AC-RING. 
 
 him more than the dead face of this hapless girl. Tear* 
 came into his eyes. 
 
 The duchess told him of the broken wedding-ring ; she 
 thought it a most marvellous coincidence. And the little 
 story conveyed to the doctor almost all that he wanted to 
 know. Of course there was nothing to be done. Dr. 
 Griffiths said that there was no need for any inquiry ; the 
 cause of death was heart disease there was no doubt of 
 it. 
 
 The duchess raised her hands in astonishment. 
 
 " Heart disease ! " she cried. " I have never heard her 
 complain of her heart ! " 
 
 " I have," sobbed Hettie. " I have frequently heard 
 her complain of a sharp, strange pain, and of her heart 
 beating slowly." 
 
 " She must have suffered for years," said Dr. Griffiths, 
 but he did not add that the disease had been aggravated 
 by some terrible shock. He respected the secret that he 
 had kept so well. 
 
 The duchess would not allow anything to be touched 
 in the room until the general and Sir Basil came. The 
 unfinished letter lay upon the table, and the broken wed- 
 ding-ring was in the folded paper. 
 
 They had telegraphed at once for Sir Arthur and Sir 
 Basil. Fast as steam could carry them, they went to Men- 
 tone, and found the terrible news true that Leah was 
 dead. 
 
 All the calm, imperial beauty of her youth came back 
 to her as she lay sleeping after her long fever and pain. 
 There was no pain on the beautiful face ; the thick, dark 
 eyelashes lay like fringe on the white cheeks ; there was a 
 strange beauty on the marble brow ; and the proud curves 
 of the perfect lips were set in a smile. The duchess had 
 covered the couch on which she lay with lovely white
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING 
 
 34 
 
 blossoms ; and so Sir Basil, who had parted from her on 
 board the steamer, saw her again. He kissed the pale lips 
 tnat had murmured so many loving words to him, weeping 
 like a child, and regretting that he had not loved her more. 
 
 The duchess gave him the letter and the ring. He re- 
 ceived them in silence. What had he to say ? 
 
 But that night, when all was still, he crept back to the 
 room, and laid the two halves of the broken wedding-ring 
 on the cold, white breast. No one else should ever wear it ; 
 it was buried with her. 
 
 Early the next morning he went out and procured some 
 scarlet passion-flowers. Sir Arthur liked him all the bet- 
 ter because he cried like a child when he placed them in 
 the dead, white hands. One could have fancied that a 
 smile passed over the dead face. Her secret was safe for 
 ever now, and no one knew why she had died. No sus- 
 picion of the truth came to any one of them. 
 
 So they mourned her, and no sting of bitter memories 
 increased their pain. Hettie and the general learned to 
 love each other in the midst of their trouble more than 
 they would ever have done in prosperity. They mourned 
 long and sincerely for Leah. The general for a long time 
 was quite unlike himself he seemed unable to recover 
 from the blow ; and there were times when every one 
 thought that Hettie must follow her sister. 
 
 There was a great outburst of sorrow in England when 
 the papers told that Leah, the beloved niece of General 
 Sir Arthur Hatton, h^d died suddenly at Mentone, of 
 heart-disease. 
 
 English visitors go now to see her grave ; none leave it 
 without tears. They tell each other how soon she was to 
 have been married to some one whom she loved dearly, 
 and how she was writing to her lover when the summons 
 
 came. Leah's grave is the most beautiful in the cemetery. 
 
 i
 
 34* A BROKEN WF.DDIKC-RIVG. 
 
 A tall, white marble cross bears her name, and masses or 
 superb scarlet passion-flowers creep up it and overhang 
 
 the grave. 
 
 ******** 
 
 Five years have passed since Leah's death, but her 
 memory lives bright and beautiful among those who loved 
 her best. Sir Basil and Hettie have been three years 
 married, and they live entirely at Brentwood. Sir Arthur 
 implored them to let it be so. He could not bear to live 
 alone again. So they had consented to make Brentwood 
 their home; leaving it at times to go to Glen, when the 
 general always accompanied them. He loved Hettie, and as 
 the years rolled on, he looked to her for all the comfort 
 and brightness of his life. But those who knew him best 
 eaid that she had never occupied the same place in his 
 heart which Leah had. 
 
 One spot of Brentwood was sacred to Sir Basil he 
 would never allow it to be touched or changed and that 
 was the nook on the terrace where the passion-flowers 
 grew. He would not have them cut or pruned : they grew 
 in luxuriant profusion, and he allowed no one to gather 
 them. He loved his fair young wife Hettie with all his 
 heart, yet he never once walked up the avenue without 
 thinking of the beautiful face among the flowers which 
 had brightened into new and sudden life at his approach. 
 
 He was very happy. Life had been one long success 
 with him. His fame was ever growing : the time was 
 coming when his name would be honored wherever the 
 English language was spoken. No one ever knew that a 
 woman had died for love of him. 
 
 There is no fear that Leah will be forgotten at Brent- 
 wood. The beautiful picture of her shown at the Royal 
 Academy and called " The Passion-flower," hangs in the 
 drawing-room there. Every one who sees it stops and looks
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. ?4 ^ 
 
 wonder at the lovely face and dark eyes that seem to 
 follow one. 
 
 Lady CarUon has a fine, handsome boy, whoiu she has 
 named Arthur, who inherits her blue eyes and golden hair. 
 She thinks that there is no boy in England like him, and 
 Sir Basil is of the same opinion, though perhaps in his 
 heart he loves best the baby girl called Leah, whose dark 
 eyes and lovely face bring so vividly back to him the one 
 buried forever from the sight of men. 
 
 One morning Lady Carlton, at play with her baby-girl, 
 caught her in her arms and held her up in front of the 
 picture of " The Passion-Flower." 
 
 " See, Basil," she cried " little Leah will be the very 
 image of her aunt." 
 
 Sir Basil crossed over to his wife. 
 
 " She will resemble her. ' he said, quietly ; " but I hope 
 baby's face will not have me snadow of melancholy that 
 lies on this one." 
 
 " I hope not," returned Hettie. " Leah always had 
 that look,even when her face was most radiant it was there. 
 Oh, Basil, how young and beautiful she was to die ! " 
 
 " I oftei) wonder," said Sir Basil, " what would have 
 happened had she lived, Hettie. I never like to think 
 that our happiness and we are happy, swee. v wife comes 
 from Leah's death." 
 
 Hettie looked at him thoughtfully. 
 
 " It is not so, Basil," she said. " If Leah had lived, 
 you would have married her, but she never would have 
 been happy. I think she wanted something more than one 
 finds in this world, Her nature was noble and lofty ; I do 
 rot think any human love would have satisfied her. Do 
 you remember the restless longing on her beauteous face ? 
 See it is there, even in this picture, She would oevei 
 tave been happy."
 
 344 
 
 A BROKEN WEDDING-RING. 
 
 "Perhaps not," allowed Sir Basil, thinking of the 
 broker, wedding-ring and the letter over which she had died 
 "perhaps not, Hettie. I think you are right," he said, 
 as they moved slowly away from the beautiful, passion* 
 e.te face. 
 
 That was how they judged licr
 
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 trations by F. L. Stoddard. Dedicated by permission to Mrs. John 
 A. Logan ; Autograph letter from General Sherman. 500 pages, 
 large 12mo, cloth. Price 91.00. 
 
 For sale by all Book and Newsdealers, or will send to any address 
 in the United States, Canada or Mexico, postage prepaid, on re- 
 ceipt of price, in currency, money order or stamps. 
 
 M. A. Donohue & Go. 
 
 407-429 DEARBORN ST. 
 
 CHICAGO
 
 Comic Readings and Recitations 
 
 Complied by CHARLES WALTER. BROWN, A. M. 
 
 Few of the selections contained in this book 
 have ever before appeared in printv Copyright 
 matter has been procured at great expense from 
 the greatest wits of the age. Such delightful 
 entertainers as Ezra Kendall, LewDockstadter, 
 Josh Billings, James Whitcomb Riley, Marshall 
 P. Wilder, Mark Twain, Bret Harte, Opio Read, 
 Bill Nye, Petroleum V. Nashby, Artemus Ward. 
 together with the best from "Puck," "Judge, 
 "Life," "Detroit Free Press,""Arizona Kicker," 
 renders this book the best of its kind published. 
 
 Paper covers, printed in two colors on enameled paper, 25 cents. 
 Cloth, gold titles, original designs, stamped in Inks, 50 cents. 
 
 The American Star Speaker 
 and Model Elocutionist 
 
 By CHARLES WALTER. BROWN, A. M. 
 
 Many Speakers are advertised to be the 
 best, but a comparison is all that is nec- 
 essary to convince anyone that our claim 
 that The American Star Speaker & Model 
 Elocutionist is beyond all question the 
 best from an Elocutionary point of view. 
 Of the 600 or more selections there is 
 not one that is not available for reading 
 on any_ desired occasion. The treatise 
 on Acting, Delsarte, Elocution, Oratory 
 and Physical Culture is by the prof essor 
 of these departments in the Missouri 
 State University, while its mechanical 
 make-up is that of a work of art, for the 
 text and half-tone illustrations are the 
 best made. No home, school, church, 
 club, literary society, lodge or library is 
 complete without this book. It gives 
 more for the money than any similiar work published. Space for- 
 bids further details. Satisfaction is guaranteed. Elegantly and 
 substantially printed and bound in the best silk cloth, the national 
 emblems being stamped from artistic designs in the patriotic 
 colors. Price, $1.50. 
 
 For sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any 
 address in the United States, Canada or Mexico upon receipt of 
 price in currency, postal or express money order. 
 
 M. A. DODOHUE & GO. 
 
 407-429 Dearborn Street 
 CHICAGO
 
 PATRIOTIC 
 
 RECITATIONS AND READINGS 
 
 Compiled by Charles WeJter Brown, A. M. 
 
 This is the choicest, newest and most complete 
 collection of Patriotic recitations published, and 
 includes all of the best known selections, together 
 with the best utterances of many eminent states- 
 men. Selections for Decoration Day, Fourth of 
 July, Washington's, Grant's and Lincoln's Birthdays 
 Arbor Day, Labor Day, and all other Patriotic occa- 
 sions. There are few more enjoyable forms of 
 amusement than entertainments and exhibitions, 
 and there is scarcely anything more difficult to 
 
 procure than new and meritorious material appropriate for such 
 
 occasions. This book is designed to fill the want. 
 
 Handsomely bound in Paper Covers 25 Cents 
 
 Cloth BO Cents 
 
 COMPLETE GUIDE TO DANCING 
 
 Ball Room Etiquette 
 and Quadrille Call Book 
 
 Containing all the new and modern square dances 
 and tabulated forms for the guidance of the leader 
 or others in calling them. Full and complete 
 directions for performing every known square 
 dance, such as Plain Quadrilles, Polka Quadrilles, 
 Prairie Queen, Varieties Quadrille, Francaise, 
 Dixie Figure, Girl I Left Behind Me, Old Dan 
 Tucker, Money Musk, Waltz Lanciers, Military 
 Lanciers, Columbian Lanciers, Oakland Minuet, 
 Waltz Quadrilles, etc. The "German" introduces 
 over One Hundred of the newest and most popular 
 Figures, fully described, and conveniently grouped 
 for ready reference. Every information in regard to the service 
 of Bali-Room Etiquette, duties of Leaders and general instruc- 
 tion is fully and clearly given. 
 
 Handsomely bound in Paper Covers 25 Cents 
 
 Cloth 50 Cents 
 
 For sale by all book and newsdealers, or sent to any address 
 hi the United States, Canada or Mexico, postage paid, on receipt 
 of price, in currency, money order or stamps. 
 
 . A. DONOHUE & CO.
 
 LIFE ^/l J* 2> T> E E T> ~T OF 
 
 ETHAN ALLEN 
 
 AND THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS 
 
 BY CHARLES WALTER BROWN, A. M 
 
 Autker o/ "John Paul Jones" "Nat/tan Hale," "^Lafayette." "Pulaski,'' 
 "Washington." ''Abraham Lincoln," "Sherman." 
 
 16 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 The hero of Ticonderoga and leader 
 of the Green Mountain Boys is best 
 known for his characteristic demand 
 upon the British garrison at Fort Ticon- 
 deroga, on Lake Cnamplain, to surrender 
 "in the name of the Continental Congress 
 and the Great Jehovah." This book not 
 only gives a full account of the exploits 
 of Colonel Allen, but contains also a 
 brief history of Vermont, formerly called 
 the New Hampshire Grants, in her con- 
 tention with New York authorities, who 
 opposed Vermont's admission into the 
 Union, but which was finally accom- 
 plished by Ethan Allen. "It is the best 
 uife' of Ethan Allen published." 12mo, 
 cloth, size 6%x7%, nearly 300 pages. 
 Price, Postpaid .$1.00 
 
 LITE 
 
 JOHN 
 
 JV 1> 2> 
 
 PAUL 
 
 X> ^T OF 
 
 JONES 
 
 OF NAVAL FAME 
 
 BY CHARLES WALTER BROWN, A. M. 
 12 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 American history gleams with the 
 brilliant achievements of her adopted 
 sons. No historian ever wearies in tell- 
 ing of the glorious deeds and self- 
 sacrifices of Lafayette, de Kalb, Pulaski, 
 Kosciuszko, de Grasse, Rochambeau, 
 Steuben, St. Clair, d'Estaing and John 
 Paul Jones, who gave up home and 
 country to aid the struggling colonists 
 in their fight for freedom. This is one of 
 the most patriotic books, both from a 
 literary and artistic standpoint, ever 
 issued. It is printed on a superior quality of paper with a dozen 
 or more half-tone portraits of the principal actors, who partici- 
 pated in our struggle for independence, together with a chart and 
 views of Jones' most daring exploits on the coasts of England and 
 on the Black Sea, with his portrait in the full uniform of Admiral 
 of the United States Navy, of which he was the founder. Coyer 
 stamped in red, white and gold on a navy blue silk cloth, showing 
 in beautiful colors the colonial flags and American shield with its 
 thirteen stars and stripes, with Jones' sword in gold as ornamen- 
 tal back stamp. Size, 5%x7% ; nearly 800 pages; 12mo: cloth. 
 Price, Postpaid ..................................... $1.00 
 
 This et of 2 volumes, "Allen" and "Jones" sent to one 
 address, express paid, for ...................................... $1.50 
 
 M. ^/t. T>OJVOH\/E f3L CO. 
 
 407-429 Dearborn Street. CHICAGO
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FAOUTy 
 
 A 000 059 567 8