''TbrkeleyN LIBRARY UNIVFRMTY OF CAIIFORNIA J Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2008 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/bonniejeanorpoweOOIondrich s?- ^ »)ONNIE JEAN: Or» The Power of Love. fj CHAPTER I. AM dyingj my Bonnie Jean — flying' like the day, darling ; and you will be left alone. While I wake to the light of eternity, you, poor child ! will weep for your cross old aunt, who, for all her sternness, loved you dearest on earth. Come here, child; let me look into your face once more, a face so like my angel mother's that it excuses the greatness of my love." The setting sun casts its last glory upon the prim room in Avhich grim death was about to take up its abode. A soul was passing away with the sunbeams — a soul as honest, as cleai", as the day had been. Miss Pridie, the prim, the pious, the hater of vanity, was about to drop the reins of government so long and vigorously held ; her stern and uncompromising reign was over, and the management of all her worldly wealth, and the noble estate of the Pridies, was to be left to the timid girlish creature who knelt heart-broken by the bedside of her best friend and only relative, Aunt Bridget. " Sing, child ; the light is leaving these old eyes that have long looked upon your blameless life with pride ; let your voice speed my passing soul. You love me, dear ? " "Sk- No. 1. iinr NOTICE.— With this Number is Given Away a Coloured Picture for binding with the Work. Other Coloured Pictures will fnllnw. IJOAN STACK BONNIE JEAN ; " Better than all tlie worlJ Lesicle. Oli^ auntie, what shall I do without you ? " '' Do well, as you ever have clone, and look for guidance to your God. Sing." The sweet girlish voice rose in quavering cadence : " Yital spark of lieavenly flame, Quit, oil quit, this mortal frame." Two gentlemen standing by the deep bay-Aviudow turned at the sound, and their eyes grew damp with sympathy at sight of the lonely little figure by the bed- side, and the grey drawn face upon the pillow, upon which there shone that light which is never seen on earth or sky. The sweet voice faltered and failed, the pretty brown head fell forward upon the old hands that had tended her since babyhood. " The end has come, and the poor child is insensible to her loss. Better so, doctor. Help me to carry her away ; she is worn out, poor girl ! " Pausing a second to close the sightless eyes of the dead, the doctor raised Jean in his arms and carried her to the door, where a crowd of silently- weeping women stood waiting for the end of that stern self-governed life that had gone from among them for ever. A grim-looking old woman with a formidable white starched cap and cape, after one unsympathetic look^ at the insensible girl, entered the bedchamber, and locking the door against intruders, threw herself down beside her dead mistress, and taking one of the limp chill hands in hers, stroked it tenderly, her old eyes fixed mournfully on her face. She made no moan over her old friend and mistress, but her grim face hardened, and her eyes gloomed like a landscape where clouds obscure the light. Meanwhile Bonnie Jean lay sobbing out her sorrow in her own little white bedroom, and the dusk crept tenderly down upon the earth, and stars peeped in at her lovingly as though seeing in her a sister-light. A week later, Miss Bridie was carried to the tomb of her ancestors, and Jean, in sombre mourning-robes, sat ^% OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 3 alone in the big library, waiting foi* the reading of the Avill. It was a sunny, breezy spring day, and dear little crocuses gemmed the ribbon-boi-ders of the lawn. Aunt Bridget had planted them, but had never lived to see them blossom, so Jean had picked some and placed them in her coffin, crying quietly at sight of the placid pleasant face, from which all the stern hard lines had been smoothed by the tender touch of death. Jenn Pridie was an orphan, who had been adopted by her father's cousin, who had brought her up upon strictly Puritan principles, and now died, leaving her heiress to half-a-million of money, a grand estate, and an unblemished name. Jean had never had to think for herself, or been allowed an opinion of her own all her life. Obedience had been her only duty, and she had done that duty so well that she had sunk all individuality in almost slavish surrender to her aunt, who was strong- willed, stern, and stolidly intolerant of interference. Now she was her own mistress, young, beautiful, and free to follow her own sweet will in all things ; yet she was not elated by this thought. It seemed terrible to her to find herself responsible for all her actions — to have to think, and plan, and perform all the duties of her life alone. She shrank timidly now from seeing the lawyer, hearing the will read, and learning how her aunt had left her ; but when the servants came crowding into the room, and her aunt's old friends gathered about her, a pleasant feeling of importance took possession of her, and her pretty bronze-brown head lifted itself regally, as though she challenged anyone to dispute her right to the title of mistress of Deepdane and the unblemished name of Pridie. The sunbeams crept lovingly to her feet as she sat in a big brown-leather chair, her bronze head, with its ripples of hair, fettering the sunshine like a siren's net. She looked so childish and unpretending, for all her twenty-one years, that the good rector looked towards ^ -^ 4 BONNIE JEAN ; her with commiseration as the lawyer opened the will and briefly explained its contents. After a few legacies to servants, friends, and charities, it stated that Jean was the possessor of all the late Miss Pridie's wealth, estates, &c., on condition that she married before she attained the age of twenty-two. She was her own executrix, and was only requested, for old acquaintance sake, to keep with her her cousin's faithful friend and servant, Eliza Large, to be her friend and body-servant. This good, but unlovable woman v\^aB bequeathed her late employer's good will, recommendation, and thirty pounds a year, and her grim old face expressed intense satisfaction at the same, while Jean felt her to be the one blot on the brightness of her future, for Eliza had all her cousin's prejudices without her justice or tenderness. Jean was her own mistress, an heiress in her own right, on condition that she mai'ried before the year was out, and that her husband took the name of Pridie. Consternation seized her. She did not know a man whom she would willingly take to be her lord and master. Her cousin had never allowed the place to be besieged by young folks, and Jean knew nothing of the world outside Deepdane, a pretty Sussex village, bounded by chalk cliffs and windy heaths, and that seemed endless space and emptiness. She had never been beyond the hills that walled her in like huge green sentinels, since she came, a desolate child, from broiling India, long before our gracious Queen claimed title of Emj^ress. Jean's first feeling was one of desolate friendlessness and overpowing responsibility ; her next, an intensified dread of her grim maid-servant, old Eliza. When kind friends clasped her hand and congratu- lated her, she seemed dazed, and was glad to see them go, that she might creep away and read a bundle of old letters her dear dead friend had left for her. It was a lovely spring evening when Jean sought her own room, letters in hand. She felt very lonely. on, THE POWER or LOVE. 5 A life witliout support or sympathy was liers^ and in her ears rang the words that she, who never had a sweetheart in her life, was compelled to marry before the year was out, or forfeit all the property, which would go to enrich an already wealthy society for the protection of single women. The • setting sun gleamed on the beautiful grounds and grand-looking gables of Deepdane as she looked out miserably upon them from her pretty bed- chamber. "What was she to do? Where could she look for a husband ? Certainly not in Deepdane. Jean's thoughts had never been led into the groove that encompasses most women's lives. She was twenty-one, and had never had a sweetheart. Aunt Bridget's rule had sternly set such frivolities asidcj and in her innocent childishness^ Jean had been content to differ from other girls in this matter, Now she wished she had a strong arm to rely upon^ a loving heart to care for her ; she was so lonely, so friendless, and there was only a year to secure fortune. She looked upon poverty with dread, for she was realistic and sensible enough to see the prosaic side of it, and feel luxury and pleasant living desirable. A chill of despondency settled down on her young heart as she faced the difficulties of her position. Her childish face looked wan and sad in the soft light as she leant out of her window and plucked a cluster of yellow jasmine. A hoarse voice aroused her. Hastily pulling her head in, she said : " Wliat do you want, Eliza ? " "Want? Well, I want to know what you think of my poor mistress's will, Miss Jean, and I want to know Y/ho you intend to marry. There's the rector, a decent kindly man." "I fancy one looks for more than decency in a husband, Eliza ; and the prayer-book says a man may not marry his grandmotlier — a statement that cuts both ways. The rector is old enough to bo my father, has 6 BONNIE JEAN ; grown-up dangliters, and goodness knows wliat all, to make liim objectionable." " Ugli ! Well, there's Lawyer Dove." "A dear old dissembler who dyes his beard and wears a wig, who is older than the rector. Don't trouble your- self about me, Eliza ; there is plenty of time to look for a lover six months hence." " What, and marry a man of whom you know nothing ? Better marry someone who has known you all your life. There are several young gentlemen about here, I dare say." " I dare say there are, but I don't want to be married for my money, or want to lose my money by not marry- ing. It would be dreadful to give up Deepdane, I love it so ; it is the only home I ever had. I wonder, if Aunt Bridget was such an advocate for marriage, that she never married." " My dear young lady, your father was to blame for that. He jilted her to marry her bosom friend. This soured my poor mistress ; she shut herself up with mo here afterwards, and held intercourse with no one. I believe she loved your father as long as she lived. When he died she was cut up dreadfully, and when, after a year's struggle with sickness and poverty, your mother died, leaving a helpless infant, she took you to her heart like an own child. She never loved any man except your dead father, and grieved for him in secret ever since. The day before she died, she bade me bring her a packet of old letters, his likeness, and a lock of hair, and told me to put them in her coffin when she died. 'Mine has been a lonely, empty life, Eliza,' she said. 'I see the folly of it all now. I ought to have married. Thank God, Jean's life will be brighter ! She must marry, you know, and be happy, or I shall think I have spoilt her life by secluding her here so long, and giving her such sober views of life.' " " Poor auntie, she was very good to me, but I do wish she had left me enough to live on unconditionally. I would not care how little I had, if I could be happy in my own way. I do not want to be married for my money, yet I know there is little else to love me for, I s?- OKj THE POWER OF LOVE, 7 am so plain, so simple; I know nothing oE the world's ways." '* Wisdom and weariness will come together," said Eliza, as she unbound her young mistress's chestnut tresses, and brushed their sunny ripples until they shone like waves of ruddy gold. With her loosened hair about her delicate oval face, Jean was as fair a sight as a young vestal, whose pure beauty, in the words of Longfellow, would " appear a smile of God." A sweet, shy, pale face full of sensitive refinement and spiritual sweetness — a face full of budding grace, likely to blossom into unusual beauty in maturity, for Jean, was over-young for her age— a tender, clinging, child- like creature, full of unsuspected fire. In figure she was tall and slender as a willow-wand, with a complexion like white rose-petals, smooth, pure, and pearly; her almond-shaped hazel eyes were shaded by heavy dark lashes, and straight decided brows almost met above the amber light of her bright eyes; her mouth was somewhat wide, but full of fine white teeth, and lips red as a ripe cherry. The love of her adopted mother, while it made of her a little unwise Puritan, also kept her soul unspotted from even the shadow of sin, Jean knew of no sorrow but that brought by poverty, sickness, or death, dreamed of no sin but such glaring disregard of laws, human and Divine, as divided the evil-doers from th«ir kind for ever. Hers, indeed, was a charity that thinketh no evil, a soul as free from guile as once Eden was of sin. She had all life's hardest lessons to learn, and shrank from the learning as from a penalty too hard to bear. Docile, gentle, yielding, and silent she had been under her adopted mother's rigid rule, but her heart had burned within her often with hot restless longing for something above and beyond her tame existence. Now the time had come for her to take part in life's fever, her bonds were broken, she was free to soar upon her untried wings far away from the narrow limit of her present stagnant life, with its dreary routine of dull 8 BONNIE jean; or, the rOWER OF LOVE. domestic duty, and feeble little peeps at pleasure ; tho wine of life liad been so largely diluted for lier so far tbat she was unconscious of its subtle intoxication. Yet, nnicli as sbo longed to spread her wiugs and fly away to " fresh fields and pastures new," she shrank a little from the ordeal before her. What a desperate fight with fate she had to encounter she little knew, or she would gladly have stayed in the calm home-nest, and married the rector. CHAPTER II. -■^ OUR months liave fled^ aud I am disgusted with human nature ; every available man has proposed to me for the sake of my money; friends I hoped were tried and true have proved fortune-hunters/' thought Jean, who had got to fear the very sight of a man, lest he should turn out a lover. Bonnie Jean got desperate, and decided to leave her lovely home until she could return provided with a protector. Eliza was getting anxious, she thought her young lady hard to please, and told her so plainly, declaring for her part she believed one man as good as another, and she was sure that being so '^ picksome,'' Jean would, after all, stoop to pick up nothing- ; so the good soul was not sorry when Jean bade her pack her trunk for London, and prepare to accompany her there in search of adventure. Eliza, arrayed in a cloak that covered her completely, with an uncompromising cottage-bonnet on her prim old head, waited one sunny morning impatiently in the hall for her mistress, who told her they would be an hour too soon if they started then. '^ Better an hour too soon than live minutes late, ma^im ; and when I go a journey, I like to start vdien I am ready.'' "You must remember, Eliza, that my pleasure must be considered as well as your own." " Why, certainly, ma'am, 'tis your interest I am always thinking of," answered Eliza, tartly. The coachman, who had grown grey in Mi.ss Bridie's service, saw the train containing his young mistress steam out of the station with dismal forebodings that Jean had gone to court cruel fate in the sinful city to 10 BONNIE jean; some dire end; but Jean, borne swiftly through the balmy air in golden sunshine, felt hopefully elated, for she was young and full of the spirit of adventure. Anything would be preferable to staying in the quiet country house, feeling herself the object of all the gossip of the place. She felt delightfully independent and high-spirited, and Eliza noticed, with a grim smile of scornful displeasure, that there were decided signs of fashionable coquetry about her young mistress's hand- some mourning. Arriving in town they took up their abode at a fashionable West-end hotel. " I shall not stay here long," said Jean, looking round her handsome bedchamber, " everything is so un- homely." " And expensive," added Eliza, with a sigh of dis- pleasure, as the pretty chambermaid, with her snowy mob-cap and frilled muslin apron, came in with hot water. Jean liked the look of the girl, and did not in the least mind how expensive the place was, so that she could enjoy her stay there. She peeped out of the window upon the bustle and din of the big public thoroughfare, and the life and brightness of the place pleased her immensely ; it was so new and strange after her quiet country life. ''Plenty of men about here. Miss Jean; I should think you would find one to suit you." " Eliza, I do wish you would not talk as if I came to town husband-hunting. I mean to marry if possible, but I shall not forget what is due to myself ; so far I have done nothing to forfeit self-respect." "But goodness knows what you may not be tempted to do in this wicked city." " Wicked city ! How absurdly you talk. I don't believe people are any worse here than in the country ; human nature is human nature all the world over. If we do not look for wickedness we shall not see it : 'To the pure all things are pure.' " Eliza sniffed wearily; really this young mistress of hers was changing greatly. She would have liked to OR^ THE rOWER OF LOVE. • H bliut her up on bread-and-water till lier spirit regained its old docile weakness, but she thought it wise to keep silent ; and so she busied herself unpacking and storing her mistress's dresses away in the wardrobes. Such dainty costly garments they were, further proof to Eliza of her mistress's vanity. While Eliza was thus engaged, Jean went down to her sitting-room, which was on a floor below. As she went down the carpeted corridor two gentle- men came towards her, laughing and talking gaily ; one a broad-shouldered, unusually handsome man, with a jolly laugh and a face of mobile beauty. Jean heard the elderly red-headed little man say : ''1 tell you what it is, Paul, that lucky hit you made on St. Blaise was the ruin of you, it gave you the o-ambler's fever ; the best thing you can do is to marry an heiress, my boy — someone with money well tied up, who will leave your earnings to you as pocket-money." "But Vv'here shall I find this queen of the rosebud garden of girls, who is like the fabulous bird with the golden eggs ? Only let me see her and I will say, ' Be mine, sweet little hen of golden promise.' " " Ton my soul, I pity the lady if you do find her, for you are a sad rogue, my Paul." ... " Gratitude for favours received, and anticipation ot favours to come, v/ould make me kind and considerate to her heiresship, I assure you." Here the speaker ran up agamst Jean, and there came a confused apology, a long silence ; and as Jean hastened into her little sitting-room, the handsome youno- Hercules said to his friend : "By Jove! what a bonnie little girl! What beautiful hazel eyes and chestnut hair ! So primly set-up a little figure I have ^rarely seen; she sets one thinking of Miles Standish s heroine, that pretty Puritan maiden. By Jove ; I hope she did not overhear my nonsensical speech ; she looks capable of despising a man who boasts such sordid sentiments." _ -.j, n . ":My dear fellow, why disquiet yourself about a perfect stranger ? Handsome dog as you are, I don t believe the girl gave you a second thought. Come, you n- 12 BONNIE JEAN ; OR^ THE POWER OF LOVE. will be late for rehearsal if you stand mooning about that demure little divinity." Jean, sitting alone in the prettily-appointed sitting- room, listened to the far-ofif tones of that mellow, reck- less voice, marvelled not a little at the interest the handsome stranger had awakened in her. A pretty waitress entered while she was thinking of the stranger, and, impelled by an irresistible impulse, she said : • '' I met a gentleman a second ago whom I fancy I have seen before — a big blonde man, clean-shaven, and very tall. Do you know who he is ? " The girl smiled, and said : "Yes, ma'am, I know who you mean. That is the famous actor, Mr. Martinet; he is acting at the Saville. He is a very affable gentleman, full of fun, but a little gay, I fancy, and fond of horse-racing ; but he is very generous, has a helping hand to hold out to everyone. He comes here to visit the American gentleman." " Thanks," said Jean to cut short this very exhaustive communication. But she took up that day's Times, and scanned the theatrical column, and determined to go to the Saville that very night. So after dinner she told Eliza to prepare to accompany her to the theatre. Eliza, who had a pious horror of theatres, looking upon them as places of iniquity, shook her head, and suggested a milder dissipation in the form of a sacred concert. Jean's pretty foot patted the floor impatiently, and her voice had a suspicion of temper as she said sharply: "If you cannot take the trouble to attend me, Eliza, I must get someone who will; there are plenty of com- panions to be got, I dare say; so after a few days I will not take you away from your duties as maid." Etiza did not answer, she felt too intensely indignant, and longed to get away to quiet and comfort in the country again. Jean hired a private-box, and went to the Saville to see Paul Martinet act. Eliza accompanied her young mistress under protest, and sat back in the box in silent disapproval, hiding 14- BONNIE JEAN ; her face in lier hands^ but all the time peeping through her fingers. Jean strongly objected at first to her silent and sombre companion, but as the play progressed, she for- got all but the actors, and Avas lost in their spirited per- formance. She forgot her own troubles, her pi^essing anxiety to save her fortune ; her eyes, her heart, her mind, were full of one voice, one person, one man, and that Paul Martinet ; his deep clear voice held her in bondage, his noble presence excited her admiration ; he seemed the noblest, best, and brightest of mankind. Her simple, tender heart went out to him uncon- sciously. Love, such as woman feels for man and man for woman, hitherto had been a sealed page in the book of life to Jean ; she wondered now why this man's voice thrilled her like the song of birds in early spring; she wondered vaguely what was the meaning of the fluttering emotion, half pain, half pleasure, that stirred the hidden depths of her heart. All the woman in her asserted itself; she felt grateful for her youth, her wealth, her comeliness. One moment a rapturous gladness lifted her above herself, the next the ache of love came o'er her, chilling her like an icy breath ; doubts, fears, forebodings, bore down her spirits, then again radiant hope spread its bright'Vings, and bore her upwai'ds on its strong glad pinions to unknown heights of blissful anticipation. A strong resolve rose in her heart to be this man's best beloved upon earth. Carried away by excitement, when he came before the curtain she threw him her big bouquet of violets and white roses, then hid herself behind the curtain, ashamed at what she feared was an unmaidenly action. Hot blushes scorched her fair young face, her breath came quickly and painfully. When she plucked up courage to look again her hero was gone, and she felt relieved; her nerves relaxed their tension, and she tried hard to compose herself. OE^ THE POWER OF LOVE. 15 Love at first sight, that cruel glaraourie that affects the youug, had come upon her like the kingly masterful young god it was, and she knew that come what would her heart had gone out of her own keeping for ever. But how should she win him, this lord among men ? By what subtly sweet spell did she hope to subdue that gay indifference that made an armour hard as iron mail about the heart of this handsome actor. AYealth, wine, and women were certainly his strong weaknesses ; but when, how, and where would Bonnie Jean blunt Cupid's arrows on his broad front. While this gallant actor held the fragrant flowers before his face, and smilingly wondered what wicked little woman thus challenged his regard, Jean, already repenting the mad impulse that had led to the flower- throwing, recalled some lines from an old poet, that say: A maid may own a well-placed flame, Not loving first, but loving ill is shame. CHAPTER IIL EAN hoped the actor had not noticed from "whence the flowers canie^ but this hope faded before the bold regard of his hand- some eyes when the curtain drew up at the last scene ; yet she felt foolishly elated to see he wore a few of her favours in his coat_, and smiled at her when their eyes met. An agony of shame suffused a burning blush over her neck and face. Lnckily for her Eliza had gone to get her an ice when the foolish, and, as she now felt, forward act had been committed, so that Jean did not fear her disapproving looks. Her own sense of shame was keen enough to kill all pleasure. Unhappy as only self-dissatisfaction and shame can make one, Jean went to her hired carriage through a crowd of staring pushing people ; on the steps stood the huge form of the man whom she just then feared more than all others. In her hurry, the lace wrap she wore dragged behind her leaving her white neck and arms bare. A cross of diamonds glittered on her bosom, suspended by a slender chain. Eliza pushed on in front just as a brawny ruffian hustled up against Jean, and with one clever wrench snatched the jewel from her bosom; in doing so, his brutal nail lacerated the tender flesh. V/ith a cry of terror Jean put her hand to her throat, and in a second felt herself swung back, while a heavy blow felled the thief to the ground. A crowd bore down upon the struggling men, and two policemen quickly restored order, and secured the thief, while Jean, white and scared, and eager to get away, cried out : BONNIE JEAN; Oil, THE POWER OF LOVE. 17 "Let liim go; I do not wisli to punisli him if ho g-ives up my cross." " Nonsense ! '^ said a firm^ frank voice ; " if you do not charge him with his crime, I will. 'Twas the most barefaced outrage I ever saw. Get into your carriage out of sight. Poor child ; you are frightened to death. Give me'your address, I will settle this matter for you." Jean was glad to be led to her carriage and creep in out of sight ; the prying eyes of the crowd disconcerted her terribly. Eliza was all nerves and nonsense, worse than her mistress, who lay back on her cushion and kept silent till Mr. Martinet returned. " May I o-et in ? these people's curiosity is embar- rassing." " Certainly; we are indebted to you already for your courageous rescue." " Thanks. See, here is the cross, a splendid prize ; let me restore it to you. I am afraid you were hurt as well as frightened, I saw blood on your throat." ''A mere scratch; nothing to speak of, I assure you," said Jean, nervously, dragging her lace wrap closer about her bosom. The scent of violets stole on her senses wretchedly as he leant towards her, anxious, perhaps, to see for him- self that her fair white flesh had received but little injury. Jean's face grew hot. How he must despise her, she thought, when Eliza, suddenly missing her mistress's bouquet, said: " Oh, Miss Jean, you have lost your lovely flov/ers ! I hope they were not trampled beneath the feet of those brutal people." Jean said nothing, but in the bright light from an electric lamp she saw the actor's eyes seek here, then droop to look at the flowers he wore. Jean positively shivered with shame as he said, meaningly : " Let's hope the flowers have fallen on fertile soil." By this time he and Jean knew each other's names, so he said : 18 BONNIE jean; '^ Miss Pridie, may I call upon you to-morrow, to kuow how this excitement has affected you ? I shall bo at your hotel to see a friend/' Jean hardly knew what to answer ; but his blue eyes were fixed on her almost sternly, so proud and com- pelling was their expression. She faltered out an assent just as they arrived at their destination. Paul Martinet handed Jean from her carriage courteously, and bowing, left her in the hall, to seek his friend. Just as they parted, with a brief hand-clasp, a sweet clear voice struck up this strain, that pervades the whole opera of " Satanella " : " There is a power whose sway Angel souls adore, And the lost obey, Weeping evei'more. Doubtful mortals prize Smiles from it above ; Bliss that never dies — Such is thy power, oh. Love ! " Jean met the kind light of Paul's blue eyes as the sound died away, and again that mysterious sympathy, that blending of all power to one sweet end, stirred her very soul. Was this man to master her destiny ? Had the fate of most mortals come to her ? Had all the love of her life left her to be supplicant of this man's mercy ? The thought troubled her vaguely with a sweet un- rest. She would gladly bow her proud young heart to the power of love. On her sleep came again the spell of those bold blue eyes and the charm of that frank, rich voice, and when she awoke the sun streamed in upon her — a flood of living light that bathed her spirit in a gloryof glad, bright hope. She arose, dressed herself hurriedly in a soft grey morning-robe, rich with frills of lace, and fixing some flowers in her neck, descended to the sitting-room, where she found a beautiful bouquet of delicate blossoms r -^ OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 19 lying by her plate, and attached to them a card bearing the name of Paul Martinet. ' She raised the flowers to her face with a smile, then placed them in water with her own hand ; and all her innocent head and heart were full of rapture, for Paul Martinet had remembered her in the early morning — Paul, who in her dreams had figured as a young god, with pansies for eyes, ripe corn for hair, and lips with the slumberous beauty of scarlet poppies. To her he was a marvel of manliness, a man she deemed any woman would be proud to call '^master." Meanwhile, the object of her thoughts was presenting just such a dream of a bouquet to another lady in the same hotel; a lady who lay full length on the couch, with pretty bare feet slipped into gold-embroidered slippers ; a lady who wore a dressing-gown of vivid scarlet satin, and sported a cigarette, and a Turkish cap into which was thrust a mass of crimpy, tumbled, flaxen hair ; a woman white and wonderful to see, with saucy crimson lips pouting to be kissed, and slim white hands upon which priceless jewels flashed like shafts of fairy fire. " You are not well, dear boy ; you look as white as a ghost. Ring for a bottle of Monopole, and go in for that pate clef oie gras ; it is grand ; and when the inner man smiles, inform me what you meant by not waitino- for me last night. I hear you had an adventure — • damsel-in-distresa line of business, with my Polly to the rescue." K ^ CHAPTER IV. jJAUL smiletl as he listened to tlie lady's remarks^ then said coolly : "My dear Mab^ wliy concern your sweet self about my actions^ when they do not concern you ? " "But all your actions concern me, my pretty Poll, and I want to know wlio tlie forward young person was wko favoured you by snch a public token of ber approving favour ? " " My dear, liow sliould I know wlio the fair incognita was ? You know so many countesses, duchesses, and such- like make a pet of your pretty Poll, that it's impossible to -single out the particular star who beamed upon me in this circumstance. This is a very fair bottle of wine ; let me fill your glass ; I dare say you too are in need of a ' pick-me-up/ after last night's dissipation. Duke Dandergard knows how to make his freo-and-easies famous. You were no end of good form last night, ma helle, that salamander-like dress of gold and black was wonderfully becoming. By-the-bye, what's your little game, dear old ladybird ? Do you mean to marry Sir Marmaduke? He is rich, desperately spoony, and not at all a bad fellow, and at the utmost is not more than four-and-forty." Paul was sagely watching the smoke from his cigarette curl upwards in tiny blue-grey columns, so that he did not notice the strange, half-pained, half- angry flash of his fair companion's fine green-grey eyes, as with a shrug of her shapely shoulders, she said ; " It's not a month ago you told mo you would marry me yourself if you could afford so great a luxury as a wife." " Sweetest Satan ella, what Vv'ill not a man say under the wicked witchery of your spells ? Now don't get into BONNIE JEAN J OR THE POWER OF LOVE. 21 a ridiculous rage, there's a tlarling ; marriage for both of us must mean promotion. I thought we agreed our friendship should never interfere with our interest ; you know, dear, ' friendship is love without its wings.' " ''Very likely, dear boy, and therefore, unlike love, cannot soar to any such height as self-sacrifice. But I cannot grumble ; we are well-matched, both worldly- wise and ready to sell ourselves for that which makes the world go round — money, beautiful god of our idolatry — money ! " She spoke in a reckless mockiug tone, and the look on her beautiful face was not good to see ; but Paul never troubled himself about a woman's looks unless that woman smiled, and just now there came between him and this white witch the memory of soft brown eyes and an innocent upturned glance, guileless as that of a child, soft brown hair, and tender girlish features; a form slim and upright as " a hazel twig," and the most sweetly sensitive of mouths. Bonnie Jean, in the grace of budding womanhood; Jean, with a soul and life as lansullied as snow newly- fallen from heaven ; and before him sat one whose bond- slave he was supposed to be — a woman all fire and passion; a woman who la,ughed at sin, and gloried in the name men had given her, Satanella, after the heroine in Balfe's famous opera, which character she had sustained with great success. Mabel Mansie had the face of an angel, the voice of a siren, and the disposition of a fallen augel, and so far as it was in her she loved Paul Martinet; not with the love that counts the world well lost for the sake of its beloved, but with the firm selfish abandon of a spoilt nature that seeks to bind the loved one for ever in the bitter bondage of blinding passion. Paul smoked his cigarette, glanced at the " Pink 'un," and then said, as he stretched his long logs out indo- lently : "Mab, didn't Dengal drop a lot of money last night ? Unlucky beggar he is." "Yes ; he went the pace pretty stiff for a young 'an; but one can part with other folk's money with com- 22 BONNIE JEAN ; posure. Considering Bengal has not a penny of his own, Avhat does it matter to him who wins his wife's ? It isn't as if she let him have a lot at a time. That man's I U's would start a paper-mill. By-the-bye, what do you think of this for a birthday present ? Duke sent it last night." She passed a jewel-case, containing two massive diamond bangles, and a pair of solitaire earrings." " They are worthy of the acceptance of Satanella herself. But you had a birthday two months ago ! " " I always have a birthday when I am hard up — like the babies. I reckon I can take one once a month. I want you to take them to Whistler's for me, and pop them to the tune of two hundred pounds ! " " Suppose Duke bought them there ? " " So much the better; they will know their value." " You always seem to be wanting money, Mab." " Like you, dear boy. You see there is yet more sympathy between us. Are you going to rehearsal at noon ? " '' No ; I shall practise my new song at home. Home ? Ah, that is an empty name to me. I think I shall go in for matrimony and money." " Nice things when combined ; but the very deuce if divided, dear boy. Do you know if I shall have a good part in the new play, ' Gloire de Dijon.' " " You know the play was written for you. It is exclusively a one-part piece. The company mean to kick against it; it will have to be altered — you'll see." "I shall see no such thing. I mean to make it a success." She spoke with insolent pride ; frequent successes had made her sure of herself. She knew she held the British public at her feet ; power Avas very sweet to her — power in any shape; very cruel and relentless she could be. Alas ! Bonnie Jean little knew that in loving Paul Martinet, she had earned the deadly hate of Satanella ; the hawk and the dove had yet to learn the power of love and the power of hate. ^ OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. - 23 Fate liad woven tlieir lives in one web, tlie white and crimson threads crossed and recrossed in fantastic fashion fearful to contemplate. Which would prevail in the future had yet to bo proved. •,•■,• " I wonder yon will gamble, Mab — it is foolish m a woman/' said Paul Martinet after a pause, " And wise in a man, I suppose ? " exclaimed Satau- clla. " Well, I wonder, too ; I am cautious enough in most things. The greatest marvel is that I honestly pay my debts of honour. Shall 3-ou dine with Duke and I to-night at the Royal ? " '' Well, I accepted the invitation, yet I hate myself for sitting at that man's table; knowing what we have been' to each other, and his bebef in us both." " What we have been to each other. You speak in in the past tense." She rose and faced him stormily, her nostrils dilating, her eyes blazing. " Because I wish our connection ended. What's the use of continuing it ? It must end some day j as well now as at any other time, if you are serious in your designs on Duke." "Designs? Serious? Of course I am._ Am I to drudge for a living all, the best years of my life ? " " It's your own fault if you will work ; I would have gladly worked for both a year ago." " A year ago ! Good heavens ! What can happen in a year. It is well you w-ere not taken at your word, since you have tired of me already." " Not tired of you, my girl, but tired of deceit aud dishonour; tired of playing at hide-and-seek with fortune ; tired of being dragged along tied to your chariot-wheels. I want to be free to find peace, if not happiness; the feverish firefly fancy yon have for me will die out like your other caprices. I am not brute enough to let you marry or marry myself until all entanglement is at an end between us." " And you believe I will let you go free— you believe I will tamely submit to being cast aside like an old glove or a faded flower ? I am fond of you, Paul— 24 BONNIE JEAN; OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. fonder than you believe it possible for so bad a woman to be ; and — oli, my sweetheart, I cannot give you up, I would rather drudge till life were ended for both. You are changed to me, Paul ; what have I done to deserve it?" " What have you not done ? Am I made of stone that I can stand by and see you sin against yourself and me ? It is not too late even now, Mab — marry me and let us begin afresh. You will tire of all this vanity, this sinfulness soon, when it is too late. I shall not ask you this a second time, I give you till to-morrow to decide ; let me know your decision by letter, I could not bear to hear a refusal from your own lips. We have loved well, and may yet be happy. I will work for you, dear, and be good to you if you will try too." Mabel had passed to his side, her face softened, her lips quivering ; she clasped her white hands about his neck and kissed him gratefully, though in her heart she knew it cost him a cruel wrench to ask, and she also knew she could not accept his sacrifice, for sacrifice it was, even if he loved her. She laid her soft cheek against his for a second, saying quietly with a little thrill of emotion in her tone : '' I am grateful to you — remember that always, Paul — and I shall love you, and you only, as long as I live. I am not a good woman, yet I can see all you offer me in a right light ; it is noble, it is good of you, dear, and I am proud of loving such a man. I will consider every- thing carefully, and if I can truthfully promise to give up the things so dear to me, I will do so, and you shall never repent your goodness to me. Drudging at our pi'ofessiou does not look tempting ; besides, there are your vices as well as mine. Could you give up betting and other Jittle vanities ? " " Yes, I honestly believe I could if you were true to me and loved me. We shall both have much to forget and foi'give, dear ; but I do believe we could do it." '' You might, Paul ; after to-day I can believe you capable of anything, but I am not so sure of myself. But I promise to think it over. Kiss me, dear, kindly — so ; it may be for the last time." No. 2. 26 BONNIE jean; or, the power of love. Paul gatliered lier up to liini ; under tlie spell of ter glamouriej any sacrifice seemed easier than to lose her, yet wlien away from her, he shuddered at her power over him, and hated himself for his weakness in hugging the chains that were dragging him down to hidden depths of dire dishonour. Ah, how little can good women understand the spells that women such as Satanella weave about the lives of men, who, but for their weakness and their siren's accursed power, had been loyal men, and true to wife, friend, or mother ! When once a man learns to love a bad woman, he unlearns all that good life and pure affection have taught him. Yet Paul had the making of a good man in him, because he realised the sinfulness of that woman, and secretly shrank from her, unless tempted by some such softened mood as this to believe her better than she ever could be in this life. And this was the man to whom Jean's innocent love had gone out, " won by a look, wooed with a word " ; and the favoured man had already half forgotten her existence, while the white arms encircled his proud neck, and the soft lips sought his. r ^ CHAPTER V. IDNIGHT in Mayfaii-j and a bijou mansion sparkling with life and light ; in a luxurious drawing-room a merry party liad assembled, playing cards, singing rollicking songs, and conducting themselves in uproarious frivolity. Amoug the card-players were Mabel and Paul,'both reckless and unhappy, for they had decided to say fare- well. Mabel gambled away everything she could stake, and still a cool, handsome, middle-aged man won her stakes, till she, in a mad mood, said : "I have nothirg to stake, Sir Duke, but myself — here is my hand, that shall be my stake. If I lose you shall marry mo ; if I win you shall pay me one thousand pounds. Gentlemen, be witness to our con- tract." A buzz of excitement went round, and an anxious group gathered round, and many an eye wandered to Paul's set face. But he was proof against all pain, a reckless jollity had seized him ; he felt almost glad to be free of fetters his folly had forged. He flashed a defiant glance into Mabel's flushed face ; a hard cruel pang came into her heart at the thought of parting with the only man she had ever loved better than her own beautiful selfish self. The game progressed briskly, the chances seemed equal, but after awhile fortune told in Sir Duke's favour; his eagerness pervaded his silent attentive manner, but he kept a steady control over himself. At last the game ended, and Sir Duke rose victorious, saying in an exultant tone : " Gentlemen, Miss Mansie and I will invite you to our weddinff in a month's time." 28 BONNIE JEAN ; Mab sat silent^ as i£ turned to stone^ till the man to whom she had staked herself roused her by putting his hands over hers, and saying* : " We shall both win our stakes ; you shall have your one thousand pounds the day you become my wife^ and I shall have my happiness, having you." Meanwhile many of the guests were laying " ponies " against the match ever coming off, and Paul felt glad that the decision was taken out of his hands. '' The marriage of Satanella will be the best thing that ever happened to Martinet. I always feared he would marry her himself, they have been spoony so long," said a well-known actor, a chum of Paul's, to the little American manager, who was drinking " gin sling " with a relish rarely displayed by his cool countrymen. " The affair has hung fire too long to come to any- thing. Satanella was made for a bi'illiant future, she will fulfil her destiny. As to our handsome Paul, he must marry money and take a theatre, and be a big pot. I pity the wife, whoever she will be, for Satanella will never allow Paul to forget her. Sir Duke must be mad to marry her ; but there, most men are mad on one point, and his is Satanella." " How splendidly beautiful she looks to-night ! She is a fair excuse for any man's folly ; she reminds me of an animal at bay. Look how her eyes with their haunted expression appeal to Paul, as though entreating him to come to the rescue." The American grinned, as he said to his friend : '' My dear fellow, do you really believe you can see all that in a woman's ej^es ? You could certainly say with the poet : " My only books were woman's looks, And foUy all tliey taught me. Come, old man, let us go to the billiard-room and have a hundred up before we go ; I'll give you fifty. How ridiculous a man in love looks ! Now Duke, one of the jolliest chaps going when he is away from his guiding star — just look at him now, hiding his head behind her big fan. There he'll stay till she gets into a temper and stamps at him. How any man in his senses could take OK; THE I'OWEll OF LOVE. 29 Bucli a wicked vixen to wife surpasses my comprelien- sion ! Certainly you Britishers are the most reckless fellows in love and war, and Sir Duke a fair specimen of the lot. Now, hang mo, if Satanella has not got rid of mine host, and has hooked Martinet, who looks like a cat on hot bricks ! What a consummate fool he is to clank his chains in public ! " Mab's eyes followed the two men who had so freely discussed her from the room wrathfully, then, lifting her splendid eyes to Paul's, she said : " Are you satisfied now ? " " Mabel, if you are wise you will not question me. You have chosen your lot, and for your own sake, and for the sake of that poor fellow who believes in you so, I hope you mean to make the best of it; he desei'ves great consideration from you, Mab, and I entreat you not to lessen his love for you. As his wife, you will be lifted above temptation. Try to be a good woman, dear, for the sake of the little souls who may come to link your heart to heaven." "Don't preach to me, Paul; I hate children. I only hope I may never have any ; if I do, I shall hate them. As to being lifted above temptation, I shall never be that while you live and I love you. Duke takes me with his eyes open. I never wished to be his wife.'' "But you will try to be a good one, dear." " I shall just be myself, Paul ; I am as Nature made me — nothing more nor less." " No, dear ; Nature made you a good and beautiful woman, the world has spoilt Nature's work. One thing I promise you ; I will not cross your path if I can help it, and I will believe in you in spite of your wicked words." " Very noble of you, I am sure, sir ; but I fancy you will find you have set yourself a difiicult task. You will come to me to-morrow ; I want to talk to you." Paul looked inclined to refuse, but an imperious " I insist" silenced him. "A wilful woman will have her way," he said, shrugging his shoulders, but he felt restless and •^ 80 BONNIE jean; unhappy, and swore to himself nevei* to enter into such bondage again. Somehow, amid this scene of gay ahandon, he recalled the scent of fresh sweet violets, and connected them with an innocent girlish face that had a look for him such as he had never seen in any other face in the world, such innocent regard and trust, such shy pleasure. Somehow, the thought of Jean solaced his sore heart, as gentle dews renew the beauty of parched flowers. Paul had a good heart, the follies of a reckless youth had not spoilt him ; his inclinations were all pure and noble, but he found it hard to shake oif the habits of years; his wild oats had bi'ouglit him a harvest of regret, and he felt a yearning to make better use of his life, and the gifts heaven had showered upon him. He longed to be free from evil influence, and begin afresh with what he called " a clean slate.'' Somehow, Jean's violets had recalled his boyhood and all its promises, and he felt he had not made the best use of his life. Paul's friends said he was a queer customer, never to be got at thoroughly ; and they were right, for they could never quite understand the boyish sensitiveness that made him ashamed of the evil he had not self-denial enough to shake off. Mabel Mansie had curled herself about his life like a boa-constrictor, that threatened to strangle all that was good in him ; now he breathed more freely, for another had eagerly taken his place, and, as Paul put it, " bound himself to the wheel," and Paul hoped he should be free to find happiness in a purer source. He felt strangely elated at even the thought of freedom, and many a time that night Mabel started with anger at sound of his happy boyish laugh. "He is glad to get rid of me," she said to herself, clenching her small jewelled hands. "How dare he feel glad when my heart seems turned to stone, and I have not a hope left under heaven ? What a weak fool I am ! Many a woman would give the best years of her life to stand in my place to-night. And Duke loves -^ ^ — ^ OE, THE POWER OF LOVE. 31 me, yet his very love repulses me more tlian Paul's indifference. Oh, why can't I follow his example ? But, God help me, I cannot! God help me, indeed! What have I to do with God ? " What had she to do with the great Master of the universe, whose breath would condemn her to ever- lasting death ? Jean Pridie passed the beautiful actress in the corridor at their hotel in the early morning, and started at sight of the lovely haggard young face and great, haunting, sombre eyes, Mab paused a second, looking at Jean enviously ; she seemed to her like a vision of what her own life might have been. As she stood before her, Jean looked like a spirit of dawn, her starry eyes and cool fresh cheeks bright with health and heart's ease. " Good-morning ; you got up to see the sun rise, I suppose ? " said Mab. "I got up to go for a blow in the park before the day got stale ; everything is so fresh and sweet at this hour. Like myself, you are an early riser, I imagine." Mab drew her handsome oriental wrap closer about her, and laughed as^ she said, amused by Joan's amazed looks : " I never rise till twelve ; I have not been to bed yet. Go, my child, enjoy the sunshine while you can ; the time will come when you will tiro of even the light of heaven." Without a word Mabel passed her; a knot of moss rosebuds, falling from her dress, were crushed beneath her feet. Jean picked them up tenderly, she loved roses, and as she tried to shake them smooth again, she sio-hed and thought, " So many a life is trampled to death beneath the feet of those who should love and cherish them." Jean passed the astonished hall-porter with a good- natured nod. His eyes followed her curiously, and he mentally compared her with the gay young actress who had 32 BONNIE JEAN ; OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. just passed liim^ tossing liim money as tliougli it wore dirt. "A sweet, winsome little lady, briglit as a bird seeking tlie sun and air, as all healthy, innocent young things should," thought he of Jean, as he watched her away in the clear morning light, a vision of innocent, beautiful youth. ^ CHAPTER VI. OOD-MORNING, Miss Pridio, you rise with tlio ]avk," said a pleasant voice to Jean, as slie stood feeding the swans by the Serpentine, humming to herself in gayest, brightest spii'its. Jean turned sharply to see Paul Martinet standing beside her, looking tired and unhappy. Like Mabel, he had not been to bed, and intended to try a cold plunge instead, as soon as he could get into the Floating Bath. As he came for a stroll in the park, and smoked a weed, he was surprised to see Jean alone, and so early ; but somehow the sight of her harmonised with the hour and with the scene, and he felt the better for her presence, as he did for the sight of the sun and the dew that glinted gem-like on the freshened grass. Jean held out her hand kindly and said : " You see we country folks are accustomed to early rising, we like to see the world with its face clean. I ran out to be before folks ; I cannot get about alone in a crowed, and Eliza is soon tired, so I explore the places before breakfast. Sometimes I go by the Embankment, sometimes to the Temple Gardens, and I get into all sorts of grand old churches while they are being cleaned. I got lost in the City one day, and got so tired and thirsty that I stopped a milk-cart and got a drink — not such aa I used to get at home." "Where is 'homo'?" enquired Paul, taking some crumbs from her open palm, and throwing them to the water-fowl. " My Lome is in Sussex — Deepdano, a pretty village bounded by big chalk cliffs, on the top of which are the South Downs, and beyond them the sea. I love the sea ! I >> 34 BONNIE JEAN ; " So do 1," said Paul, wliile he looked into her honest little face and sighed. This girl, with her innocent purity and childishness, appealed to all that was best in him ; he loathed his life as it passed before him; in the clear light of morning he saw the hollow sham it was. " You ought to be very happy," he said, looking at the demure little face with kindly interest. " I daresay you have a clear conscience; you look as if your life might be opened at any page and cause you no shame. I feel sure yours has been a happy, uneventful life, full of quiet joys, and disturbed by but few sorrows." He spoke so gravely, bo regretfully, that Jean was touched. " You are young, too ; surely your life has been what you imagine mine ? " •*I wish to Heaven it had! Ah, child, you cannot gauge the extent of the temptations in this great city." *' Ah, but you are strong and brave, and can overcome difficulties and resist temptations." " I wish I were half as strong as you believe, child. Do not think too well of me, for I am as bad as oppor- tunity and sinful inclinations can make me." '' Yet you have the desire of virtue, and it is never too late to mend, you know." " But, my child, I am morally in tatters ; I should need a complete suit of new good qualities to make me even respectable. No; I am constitutionally a vagabond, beneath even your pure prayers. Where are you going: " Over to the other part of the park to see the soldiers exercising. It is a fine sight. I like to see them, and try to realise what real fighting is. Would you like to be a soldier ? If I were a man I should." " You sanguinary young party ! " with mock horror. " Why, I could not enjoy killing in imagination. At least, everyone escapes my malice but my tailor." " Why do you feel so wicked about your tailor ? " " Because he absolutely refuses to make me his adver- tisement any longer. Says I am getting too stout, and immediately tries to reduce my bulk by persecuting me OR, THP] rOWER OF LOVE. 85 for a paltry bill tliat would not pay for a dozen bonnets. All, here are our lieroes ! I see by your kindling eyes you are a lass that loves a soldier." They stood on the grassy slope and watched the mimio fight; listened to the sound, so shrilly sweet, of the bugle-call. Jean's cheeks were flushed bright as a rose m Juno, and her little dew-damp feet beat time to the stirring march. Paul looked down on her with indulgent envy ; how sweet to be so fresh to all things ! He longed to hear the history of her simple life, which he could picture, serene and tranquilly beautiful as a pastoral poem. Jean, meeting the kind enquiry in his eyes, said : " What are you wondering about ? " " Wondering if ever you will let me hear the history of your innocent past, which I can picture as a fair prospect of a golden dawn over peaceful meadows. You are a country girl, I see, a fresh, bright field flower, reared in pure air and sunshine, amid scenes of pleasant- ness and peace." " Yes, God has been very good to mo ; mine has been a sheltered life. I can look back upon it as a cheerful Sabbath-day, spent to the glory of God. If every girl could boast such tender guardianship, such loving care as I, there would be little excuse for sin. _ But I have suffered a severe loss, the guardian-angel of my life has passed to her homo on high, and left me alone and friendless, and without that experience that should guard against evil I do not understand." '' Child, have you ever read Longfellow's poem called 'Maidenhood'? Follow the precept that bids you bear a lily in your hand; that symbol of innocence will shield you against the serpent coils of sin. Are you going?" t i ^ " Yes ; Eliza will wonder where 1 am, iaucy i am lost : she cannot credit that I am no longer a child." " She is right — you are a child." " I am nearly twenty-one." " AVhat an immense age, to bo sure ! You must feel quite world-worn." 36 BONNIE JEAN ; M " I do not feel like a cliildj I assure you ; I have a grave responsibility on my head. I must be married in a month, and I do not know how or to whom." " What on earth do you mean ? " " Just what I say ; but I cannot explain now^ my breakfast will be spoilt, and I confess to being most un- romantically hungry/^ " I am glad you are not ashamed of a healthy appetite.'' " Ashamed ! I should think not. I am very grateful to possess one." "Yet there are many young ladies who pretend a great delicacy of appetite, eat largely in private, and pick out a crumb with bird-like prettiness in public, and think it fetching." "How foolish! A good appetite shows health, and health is one of the greatest blessings in life." " Then you confess you are not all soul." Jean laughed, and answei-ed : "No, thank Heaven; I am just "A woman not too great or good For liuman nature's daily food. May I hold your hand crossing the road ? I am so afraid of the traffic. I know it is silly, but I can't help it; the^ policemen are very good, they generally see my timidity, and come to my rescue." " Fine fellows, our London police ; we ought to be grateful to them, ' for a policeman's life is not a happy one.' " Paul had led his companion to the opposite pavement, when a flower-girl came up with a basket of flowers fresh from Covent Garden — lilies, roses, ferns, and tender leaves of verdant green. " What beautiful blossoms ! " said Jean* pausing a second. ° "Buy some for the pretty lady, sir— do ; only two- pence a bunch, and as she says, such beauties." Paul picked out a dozen bright bunches, then, tossing some money into the mossy basket, gave the flowers to Jean, and passed on by her side, noticing with pleasure the pretty pink flush in her cheeks, and the delighted sparkle of her brown eyes. ^ ORj THE rOWER OF LOVE. 37 AYlien they came to the hotel steps, he held out his hand to say good-bye, and Jean put her little hand in his, smiling confidingly into his handsome face. " Thank you for my pleasant morning ramble, Miss Pridie ; I hope we may have many such before you leave town." 1 J • T Simple words these were, but they re-echoed m Jean s young heart all the long summer day. That night saw her again at the theatre, watchiug her hero as though he were some young god sent from Olympus to gladden the hearts of youth. The next day her lawyer waited upon her and suggested the urgent need of her finding a partner for life. . , He gave her some very hard wordly-wise nuts to crack, showed her the value of money, and the power for good it would be in her hands ; made her, in fact, as anxious as he was that she should receive her aunt's fortune ; painted her aunt's lonely life so gloomily, that Jean recoiled with positive aversion from the idea of being an old maid. Each day that passed made Jean more anxious ; the only man she could care for seemed as far off as the stars, not only in body but spirit, for though Paul and she had met since the morning when they had walked home from the park together, their intimacy had not increased; and since then Paul had taken a trip to Paris. Only a week now remained for Jean to secure a husband and her aunt's fortune. The thought of leaving the old home at Deepdane troubled her more than all; it was the only home she had ever known and she loved it dearly. She was getting desperate, said she would write to some matrimonial paper, but had not courage to do so. At last she was seized with a bold resolution. She would ask Paul to marry her, she knew he was deeply in debt, and would be glad to catch at anything to save himself from beggary, and she fancied he liked her ; she would tell her story, and leave herself to his mercy. K BONNIE JEAN; OK^ THE TOWEE OP LOVE. 38 She hardly realised wliat slie intended to ask, or maiden modesty would liave made the task she had set herself impossible to perform. Her own partiality made it the more difficult; she feared he would read her heart, and she wanted him to believe the whole aifair a strictly business transaction. She knew so little of love and lovers. Novels had been kept from her as though they were moral poison. She had seen only the Darby-and-Joan-like lives of old married people. She dreamed not of the rush of passion, the un- conquerable desires of youth and love; all she knew was that she needed a protector, someone to secure her home and fortune ; and knowing Paul to be in difficulties, she turned to him, thinking he would not begrudge the help she needed. Yet the time was at hand when her girlish head would bow with shame, and her heart cry out despairingly for irretrievable mistakes. r CHAPTER VII. LADY to see you, sir. She Avill not give her name ; she is young and alone, and seems upset." The speaker was Paul Martinet's in- valuable valet, a discreet, keen-sighted fellow who had shared storm and sunshine with equal ffood temper with his master for years, and entertained a sincere affection for him, for Paul was kind and considerate to a degree rarely seen among such as he Paul looked perplexed ; he had 3ust left the theatre, had taken a fresh part, and the acting had fatigued him to such an extent that, for a wonder, ho had gone straight to his chambers, a quaint suite of old-tashionccl apartments in the Temple, that ho had kept over since he had been a briefless and despairing young barrister, and an enterprising manager had put it into his head to study for the stage, which he had done with great success, and had he been as provident as he was progressive, he would have been the richest as well as the most successful man on the boards. His chambers were exquisitely appomed m rich, artistic style, and his sitting-room showed him to be a man ot culture and taste. -, ^ ^^ ■ i. A water-colour sketch stood on an easel by the quaint window, a black carved cabinet in a queer corner was resplendent with richly-tinted old china; a f ew ^^luable etchino-s hung on the walls. Paul, in a gorgeous Turkish dressing-gown and slippers, with a crimson cap on his head, smoked in a cosily-cushioned rockmg-chair, while a grey parrot, chained to a stand, regarded him with critical approval; beside him, full length, lay a splendid collev, and in leisurely ease a big tortoise crawled across the polished floor. Paul looked hastily at his sur- roundings, and then bade his man show the lady up. 40 BONNIE JEAN ; Jeau liad followed liim straig-lit from the theatre^ and now entered with nervous haste, as though she dreaded her courage would ooze out at her heels. She wore a rich brocaded silk, cut square at neck, with elbow sleeves ; a wreath of starry white blossoms encircled her small head ; her face was white as snow, and her great childlike eyes were dusky with emotion. She had a thick lace shawl thrown Spanish fashion over her head, and it struck Paul, even in the midst of his surprise, that the black lace was infinitely becoming to her. He put aside his pipe and apologised for the smoke ; then he placed a chair for her just w^liere the light from the shaded lamps fell full on her scared face. She clasped and unclasped her hands convulsively, and looked at him with imploring eyes, like a dumb creature soliciting charity. " My dear Miss Pridie, you are in trouble, and have come to me to help you. I feel honoured. Tell me, how can I assist you ? You may command me ; speak, child, do not be afraid, we are quite alone; I have sported the oak, as they say at the ^ Varsity.''^ Yes, they were quite alone, and a tiny chimney-clock struck the hour of midnight. What could he think of her ? The shamed blushes flew to Jean's face, making her for the moment look positively beautiful. How should she tell him her errand ? Vv^ould he despise and spurn her, or Avould he be pitiful and judge her mercifully ? For one wild moment she felt inclined to run away, leaving her words unsaid, but his eyes were bent upon her with keen enquiry in their gaze. " Do not be afraid to speak plainly to me. Miss Pridie — have I not offered you my frieudshijs ? — an offer I rarely make, but always mean. I can see you are timid of telling me your errand, but surely I do not seem so very formidable." He held out his hands to her, and she placed her own in them, and faltered out faintly : " I am afraid when you have heard what I have to say, you will despise me.'" ^- OR^ THE rOWER OF LOVE. 41 " DespisG youj my dear girl ! AYliat do you mean ? I am sure you deserve everyone's respect. Try me : I positively promise not to bo shocked by anything you can say or do. See, I am all attention,'' " First read this/' said Jean, passing him a letter from her lawyer — a letter she had requested him to write, detailing in full the terms of her aunt's will, and tho conditions under which she could alone retain its benefits. The letter was very explicit, and detailed the amount of her income, and how much her husband could take out of the estate, what sum of ready-money down, also amount of personal and landed property, and even the date when the will was proved and registered. Paul's legal mind quickly mastered the contents, and ho drew a long breath of amazement. Yfhat had the extraordinary will to do with him ? Did she want him to be heavy father, bridegroom, best man, or what, that she came at this unearthly hour to consult him, and he almost a stranger ? "Of course you must get married within a given time. Miss Pridie j so splendid a property must not be allowed to go to strangers. Who is the happy man upon whom your choice has fallen ? His will be an enviable lot ; but there, some fellows have all the luck. What is his name, and what can I do to help you both ? " He stood in true English fashion, with his back to the fireplace, toying with the letter in his hand, and a puzy.led expression struggling y,-ith amusement in his handsome face. Jean rose impulsively, and crossed to his side, layino* a timid hand on his arm, and looking up into his face with painful embarrassment. " I came to ask you if you would mind marrying me yourself ; I know it is asking a great favour, but I know no one else whom I could trust my life to. I would be very good and gentle, and grateful if you could manage to like me just well enough to be kind to me. My lawyer knew you were in difiiculties — ' a bond slave to the tribes of Israel ' he called you. I don't know what that means, but it does seem a pity you should want money, when you can have it so easily by marrying me." 42 BONNIE JEAN ; This droll spoecli was delivered witli many gasps and stammers ; at its close — to liave saved his life he could not have helped it — Paul burst into a roar of laughter, at which Jean drew herself up, tried to look dignified, then dismally failed, and resting her arms on the mantelshelf, burst into a fit of passionate weeping. She had thought he might have other ties that would have made his acceptance impossible, but she had also thought he would deal tenderly by her, and not turn her into ridicule. " I told you you would despise me, but you are cruelly unkind, and I hate you ! I will go away and never see your face again. 1^11 go home and marry the rector; he at least respects me, and he is a nice, dear old gentleman, and if I shall not enjoy being his wife, I shall at least feel I am not misunderstood." Sob, sob, sob, and the lace shaAvl slipped from the pretty bare neck and arms, and the white flowers beamed like pearly stars in a midnight sky. Paul tried to realise the position, but it was full of perplexity ; one thing only Avas clear to him — that this poor childish creature must be comforted. So he in- sinuated his hand cautiously under her chin, and lifted her tear-stained face. " Do not cry, poor little woman ! I beg your pardon, I ought not to have laughed, but I could not help it, really, the situation is so droll ; but I feel the honour you have conferred upon me deeply, and will consider your generous offer until to-morrow, when I will give you my answer." "I can't bear suspense; it must be 'yes^ or ^no^ at once. I should get so ashamed and troubled I should drown myself before to-morrow. I see now that I have done dreadfully wrong, and that I have forfeited your respect." " You sweet little absurdity, instead of forfeitiug my respect as you say, you have increased my interest in you. Come, now, dry those dear eyes, and let us under- stand each other. You come to me because you have heard I am a ruined man, and you, kindly taking some interest in me, wish to befriend me ; you offer to take -^ a?- OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 43 me for a liusband out of pity and need of someone to nndertake such a serious charge as yourself; you offer me wealth, ease, comfort — in return you ask but the protection of my name and interest. My dear, the bargain is horribly unequal. I am a blase bored man of the world, guilty of every indiscretion I could commit ; you are good, pure, and sweet — you would bind your spotless life with mine with blind, unquestioning faith. You are a wonderful woman ; what can I have done to deserve such trust, such generosity ? " "What have I done to deserve such generosity?" repeated Paul tenderly. " Well, you see," said Jean simply, " somehow I like you, and think you much nicer than any man I ever knew ; and if one must marry, one may as well have a husband one can like and admire." '' Sweet incense this to masculine vanity," thought Paul ; '^really this girl gets interesting." " Then, you see," said Jean, trifling with the flowers in her bosom, " I want to be wife in name only ; I don't want to be a tax or trouble. You should do just as you like and be happy, and those dreadful Jews should be satisfied, and you be free to rest when it pleased you." "Then you would not expect me to be perpetually making love to you, and you would not object to my profession ? " " I wish to be of use to you, to make you feel in- dependent ; but I am proud of your talent, and should not dream of interfering in any way with your life ; all I want is that you will save my fortune, and share it with me." " Nobly spoken, little silver-tongue. I see, you did not anticipate buying a lap-dog." "A lap-dog ! Oh, sir, now you mistake me ! I thought to win a friend and guardian whom I could respect and feel proud of. Beyond friendship and good faith, I ask nothing of you, only that you keep the terms of our marriage secret." "This is tempting a fellow with a vengeance, little girl." Jean looked pained and troubled. 44 BONNIE JEAN ; OE, THE POWER OF LOVE. " I do not wisli to tempt you to do anything against your conscience, Mr. Martinet ; I should never forgive myself if I caused you unhappiness." " I am afraid you would be the sufferer, little girl ; I might prove a hard master." " I am not afraid/' said Jean, lifting her innocent eyes to his face. Something- in that unabashed childish look discou- certed Paul, he felt in his heart that she was a pure- minded innocent girl to whom the rites of marriage were a sealed book. Then came the memory of his mother, a noble old lady, who, on her deathbed, had said : " Never marry a bad woman, Paul ; remember, a good woman is the best gift of God, her price is far above rubies," and Jean was a good woman. There was a somewhat lengthy P.S. in the old lawyer's letter that appealed strongly to Paul, for it told of a life secluded from temptation, of a young mind innocent of evil, of a heart honest and clear as the day. He knew she did not understand or realise what she asked in begging him to be her husband. Womanhood had not yet awakened in that Undine- like heart; she asked him simply because he pleased her, and came up to her ideal manhood. Yet, between him and the treasure of her trust and love stood a past full of follies and indiscretions that almost amounted to sin ; and between him and Jean there flashed the evil vision of Satanella's fatal love and beauty. Yet Satanella was promised to Sir Duke ; surely a husband's jealous watchful love would keep Satanella safe. " Why do you knit your brows and look so troubled ? Tell me, yes or no, and let me go. See, it is so late, and Eliza, terribly scandalised, waits outside in a cab." CHAPTER VIII. AUL paced the room lieavilj. He wislied to do riglit by this child isli creature who trusted hiui so purely, but he did not like to give away liis freedom. Liberty is sweet, and he had not the inclination of a Benedict; yet prudence bade him take the favours fortune held out for his acceptance. "There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." He was still undecided, when he heard footsteps in the corridor, and a voice of rare witchery sang sweetly words that caused him to turn deathly pale, and stagger to a seat like one stricken with sudden pain: " Source of joy and woe, Foiler of stern liato ; Lord of liigli and low, Woman calls thee fate. Fierceness owns tliy spell, Ynltiire thou and dove. Language cannot tell Half thy power, oli love ! " Then there rang out a light, silvery laugh, in which a deeper tone mingled, and Jean asked rapturously : "Who was that singing? What a wonderful voice. Someone is coming here. Hide me, hide me ! What will they think of me ? " Paul looked up in a dazed way. "Staj where you are, child; I cannot hide you. There is not a nook or cranny in this place sacred from Satanella." Just then there came a knocking at the door, impatient, imperative. Paul rose like a man in a dream, and opened it. 46 BONNIE JEAN ; " All, old man, we carats to look you up, to know why you disappointed us. The queen of the revels insists upon knowing tlie reason of your disobedience." The speaker, a handsome young fellow, fell back in consternation as Satanella, magnificent in old-gold satin and Spanish lace, her neck, arms, and hair glittering with jewels, passed him with regal grace, saying at sight of poor frightened Jean : " See, the reason stands before us ! A very charming reason, I am sure. Pray introduce me, Paul." She raised a pair of double gold-rimmed eyeglasses to her eyes, and surveyed Jean's shrinking figure insolently. Paul felt his heart sink for Jean, who looked almost ready to drop into the earth. She could see by Miss Mansie's manner that she put the worst construction upon her presence in Paul's chambers at that hour, and worse still, a look of profound pity dawned in the eyes of Satanella' s escort. " This is Miss Jean Pridie, my future wife, who has honoured me by coming here to-night with a note from her lawyer on important business connected with our speedy marriage. Jean, deai*, will you go to your maid, or shall I send for her here ? " Jean bowed and said she would do as he thought best. Satanella threw herself into a chair Avith a cruel little laugh, saying : " Pray do not go, Miss Pridie. I hope we may be better acquainted. Paul and I are dear old friends." '' It is veiy late," faltered Jean, nervously, pulling her wraps about her, and looking towards Paul, as though waiting his instructions. Paul saw Satanella was jeiilous, and bent upon tor- turing her rival, and determined she should not do so if he could help it. Jean had a new interest in his eyes since Satanella's unexpected appearance, and the compromising position he stood in with Jean had rushed him into the rash admission of their intended marriage. Paul looked at his guest in perplexity. He did not quite know how to act, so Satanella decided for him. on, THE rOWEE OF LOVE. 47 Seating herself in his rocking--chairj she propelled it backwards and forwards viciously. " Don't trouble about me, I can wait till you returu_, if you wish to escort yovoc fiancee home." She shut her eyes with a queer smile, and picking up the smoking-cap Paul had dropped in his agitation, put it on her elaborately-coiffured llaxen head. She looked such a daredevil, such a winningly wicked white witch, that Jean shuddered, and wondered vaguely what power she posessed over the man who was to be her husband. Surely not the "power of love." " May I enquire, without offence, Miss Pridie, what day is appointed for your nuptials ? Mine I hope to celebrate soon." " I do not know. I have not decided. It must be in a week. Ask Mr. Martinet," said Jean, nervously. Mabel laughed. " What, not decide the date of your own wedding ! My dear child, you are as docile as a little child. And 'must be in a weekM What a wonderful admission ! What can it mean ? I am afraid Paul is doomed to the delectable fate of domestic tyrant. Sit down, dear child ; he will take some time to change his coat. You look worried. Brides should look bright. Look at me; am I not a shining example — eh ? " "You certainly look very merry. Miss Mansie, but you must pardon me if I refuse to discuss our private affairs without Mr. Martinet's permission." " You dear little oddity ! Oh, you have much to learn, I fear, but my right here I allow no one to question — not even a wife dare tell me to leave, if Paul's eyes say ' stay.' " Jean flushed hotly. Somehow, though she did not understand quite all Mabel intended to imply, a sense of shame, for Paul's sake, took possession of her, and her woman's wit prompted her to retort : " Does your husband that is to be approve of your stay here, Miss Mansie?" ■»- 48 BONNIE jean; or, the power op love. " My dear cliilJ, you sliall ask him wlieii you see liim. He will be liere directly. Hark ! Ah, here he is ! My dear 8ir Dnke, this younr^ ^^^y takes a marvellous interest in your future happiness. Kiudly assure her you give me your whole couHdence." A grave-faced gentleman had entered, and now stood gloomily gazing from one to the other. At last, seeing Satanella's eyes flashing ominously, he said : '' Of course I trust the lady I intend to marry, that goes without asking ; but I do wish, dear, you would not drag me all over London." "After dark — because you are so young and in- nocent," interrupted Mabel, insolently. Just then Paul entered in walking apparel, and said cordially : " My dear Sir Duke, I'm glad to see you. I shall not be long ; I am only going to see my little girl as far as her hotel. Allow me to introduce you to the future Mrs. Paul Martinet." Sir Duke started, gazed at Jean with evident relief and interest, then said gravely : " My dear young lady, 1 am glad to see you — ■ more glad than I can say. I hope you Avill be happy Avith our friend Paul. Have you been introduced to Miss Mansie ? " " Yes, thanks. Really I must go. Mr. Martinet, you need not desert your friends on ray account ; Mrs. Large will see me home. How tired she must be of waiting ! Good-night, everybody." In a second Jean was flying down the dim staircase, followed by Paul, who felt like a man in a dream. He caught up to her at the foot of the stairs, and laying his hand on hers, said hurriedly : "Miss Pridie, I must see you to-morrow early. Promise me to try and believe I am your ti'ue friend, if nothing more. I will explain more fully to-morrow. Mind you do not slip. Give me your poor little hand ! How you tremble ! Lean on me ; from to-night we link our lives together, trusting and relying one upon the other." -^ NOTICE.— This Work will be published every Wednesday. Orders sbotild be given to your Bookseller esrly. A Coloured Picture given with the next Number. No. 3. NOTICE.— With this Number is Given Away a Coloured Picture for binding with the Worli. Other Coloured Pictures wiil follow. 50 BONNIE jean; They stood by the hall-door, Jean tretnbling from head to foot, Paul calm and strong. He put his hand under her dimpled chin and lifted her head so that he could look into her eyes. Then he said kindly : " Little girl, hope the best of me. Whatever my faults, I shall not fail you, or betray the trust you have reposed in me this night." Then very gravely he stooped and took his first kiss from her fresh sweet lips. She turned white as death ; emotion overcame her. He was surprised at the excess of agitation, and respected her the more for that modest maidenly shrinking. " Forgive me, dear, if I have presumed. Consider it a seal of betrothal." He led her to the cab, saw them ofE, then with gloomy looks and resolutely set lips turned to enter the house. In the hall he found Satanella's escorts, who said a little ironically : " Miss Mansie prefers to see you alone, old chap, so we will wait for her here ; see she does not keep us long, it is deuced late." Paul flew upstairs two steps at a time ; he found Mabel pacing the room, in a state of extreme excitement. As he closed the door she confronted him fiercely, saying : "Paul, what is the meaning of that girl's presence here. What is she to you ? Do not trifle with me, I must and will know all. I am desperate with misery. I came here to-night to ask you to take me away, to marry me, for oh, Paul, my darling, I cannot live with- out you. I love you more than life ! Speak to me ! your silence is weighing on my heart like lead. Oh, Paul, you do not love me ; you must think of all we have been to each other all these years, and forgive and pity me ! " Paul's face went white with pain for her and himself, as she threw herself into his arms, and he said in a strange stricken voice : " Mabel, my poor darling, you have come to me too late, I have given my promise to another; it is quite :^ _ ^ OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 51 true I am to marry Jean Pridie in a week. We must keep our promise, Mabel, and, perhaps, it will be the best for both of us. You were never meant to share a poor man's lot; remember your own oft-quoted words : " Love in a hut witli -water and a crust, Is — ^love, forgive us — cinders, ashes, dust. Love has triumphed for a season, bat you would repent in a month. Marry Duke, and forget your destiny as a rich and beautiful woman ; he loves you, and will make you happy. Time, the great consoler, will heal your wounds, and some day you will wonder why you cared for such a worthless dog as I." Mabel burst into a fit of passionate weeping, crying out that she should go mad or kill herself. She accused Paul of the basest deceit and cruellest of treachery, she stormed and raved till she was exhausted, then gave way to the most pitiful protestations of unhappy love. Paul was most miserable. After a long and most wretched scene, he persuaded her to let Duke take her to her hotel. He was thoroughly upset, all night he paced his room. Prudence, common-sense, and honour all pointed to Jean and a peaceful future ; inclination, desire, held him still in bondage to Satanella, whom he knew he could neither trust nor respect. He had hugged his chains so long that he forgot they dragged him down to dishonour. The spell of Mabel's beauty was still felt by him, a sort of glamourie graced her in his sight as softening mists clothe the rugged ugliness of bleak mountain-peaks. He resolved to break through his thraldom and begin afresh. A new road in life had opened to him — the wide straight path of honour was lighted by the pure radiance of a good woman's honest eyes, and he determined to follow the path of honour, and make Jean happy. Her bonnie looks shone clear as a star above the volcanic blaze of Satanella's fatal fascination. He would be free from his bondage, free to find peace with Bonnie Jean. -A CHAPTER IX. OU are an angel of goodness, Jean. I should be bad indeed if I could betray so sacred a trust. I would indeed prefer to take you without question as to your wealth. Why do you wish me to see this lawyer ? " '' I want you to understand my position. I do not wish you to take a leap in the dark. You might be dis- appointed. I know my money is mostly secured to me, though there is a provision for a husband. Auntie evidently looked upon a husband as a useful appendage in a home, and she did not wish me to marry for any- thing but love." Paul smiled, this innocent candour amused while it delighted him. " Yet, my Bonnie Jean, I fear you will not quite carry out her idea. You are marrying without love." " Oh, not exactly. You see I like the look of you. I admire your manner. I feel it would be nice to be with you always, and for you to get to care for me. You are the only man I ever felt interested in. You know you are so much nicer than any man I ever knew ; I feel as if your friendship would content me more thoroughly than any other man's love. I suppose I ought not to tell you all this, but you must not despise my childish- ness. The life I have led has kept me ignorant of things most girls understand — love and lovers, for instance. I have seen love acted, and read about it, but somehow neither ever struck me as the hond-fide article. You are the nicest lover I ever knew, but I should not like you to gush over me as you do on the stage. I should always feel it a soi^t of rehearsal, after seeing you as Orlando; besides, I should like the man I love to respect himself too much to be very humble to a woman." BONNIE jean; or, THE POWEK OF I.OYE. 53 " All, I understand. You'd like a masterful lover, sweet little buttercup, and I'll prove a perfect tyrant." " I'm sure you'd prove very pleasant, and vro shall get along swimmingly together. ^Ve will be such friends, and go about together. I can walk miles, swim, skate, row,°play tennis, billiards, and all sorts. I shall not prove so very dull, you'll find." " I'm sure I shall find you a perfect gem." Paul gave a sigh of profound relief and satisfaction ; he was so glad to find Jean had no nonsense about her, and did not expect him to do a lot of spooning, which he really did not feel equal to just then ; for, in spite of all his grand resolutions, Satanella's witching face and soft seductive voice made memory a torture to him, with visions of what might have been had Mabel been good and trustworthy as this honest little girl who so frankly opened her pure heart to him, offering all the treasures of her sweet nature for his acceptance. He wished with all his soul and strength that he had a heart to give her worthy of her acceptance, but he read such innocent preference in her eyes, that he lelt confident of making her happy in spite of his past follies and Satanella, so he allowed her to persuade him to see her lawyer, and after a long interview with him returned grateful and subdued. He saw a way out of all his worldly difiiculties, knew he could start with a clear slate, but felt a little over- powered by the greatness of the gifts fortune had forced upon him ; to be independent, and possess a fair income, a good wife, and a grand home, seemed too good to be true after his precarious career, and the constant need for work and worry. . The old lawyer had impressed upon him the sacred- ness of the trust he had undertaken, and Paul had made a clean breast of all his difficulties, debts, &c., and left it to the lawyer to settle everything up for him, promising faithfully to turn over a new leaf, and keep it a spotless page in his history. The lawyer had been prepossessed by Paul s manner and his open confession, and saw it would be wise to smooth the crumpled rose-leaves that hia new client ^- 54 BONNIE JEAN ; miglit be at ease, basking in tlie sunsliine of wordly success. "Blessed are tliey that expect little, for tliey shall receive much/' said Paul, as he buttoned his gloves on the lavsryer's doorstep. He was naturally elated, for he was honest enough to feel his debts a dishonour, and was grateful that the load was to be so speedily lifted from his shoulders. All he feared now was that Satanella, in her mad jealousy, might snatch the cup of content from his lips, even at the eleventh hour. It was reassuring to feel his little lady-love's hand in his, and see her beautiful brown eyes beaming upon him, brimful of pleasure, because the interview with her lawyer had passed off so satisfactorily. There was but little time to do all that was to be done before they could clasp hands as man and wife. Jean never looked beyond the wedding-morn, or if she did it was only to see in Paul a hon camarade — a second nobler self, whom she could look up to as the guiding- star of her life, her master; the one man among all others worthy of honour and trust. Paul felt very unworthy and small beside this frank, fearless, trustful young creature, whose innocent life and pure heart, lay open before him like a pleasant book. He knew she could not always remain the simple childish thing she was, and somehow he dreaded — he knew not why — the time when her heart should open like a flower to the sun, and she know herself a thinking reasoning woman. "How the girls of Deepdane will envy me my husband ! " thought Jean, as she watched Paul depart the day that made their betrothal binding by reason of its open acknowledgment. Paul hoped that Jean would come to him without the knowledge of Satanella's evil love to blight her hope of happiness. He was surprised by his own anxiety on Jean's account, and began to realise that it was possible she might creep into his heart and brighten it like the little sunbeam she was. ^- OE, THE FOWER OF LOVE. 55 She rested and solaced tis weary heart as no other ever had power to do, and her society had all the charm of novelty and unexpected sweetness. All his anxiety was that Satanella would come between him and this new strange happiness ; he knew a jealous woman could be capable of any meanness, and dreaded that Jean might be made to suffer for his past follies- follies that he felt keenly remorseful for. Jean and he had agreed to travel for a month, and then pay Deepdane a visit before settling down as husband and wife. -i • j Meanwhile Mabel was wearing away body and mmd in the vain endeavour to crush her unhappy love ; her caprices grew more unreasonable, her temper more fitful, till her lover, Duke, almost despaired of ever contenting her; her altered looks perplexed and pained him, he feared her health was breaking up, and used every persuasion imaginable to make her consent to a speedy marriage, that he might take her abroad, away from work and worry. One morning he discovered her singing to herself with tears of anguish in her beautiful eyes. Unseen he watched her, as with pathetically quivering lips she sang these despairing words of woe : " Ah me ! too imman thou Sad heart of mine ! Since not despair Can make thee love resign. "With woman's weakness Woman's pride still keep, Breathe sighs unlieard O'er anguish unseen weep." She started at sight of him with a cry of anger, and in one of her mad moods said, stamping her dainty foot : "How dare you come spying into my privacy. Remember you do not yet possess the right of annoying me. Suppose I do cry and shriek out in my madness, my misery, why should I not do so ? Who dare deny me the right of easing my tortured heart ? " " Mabel, my darling, do not excite yourself so ; you are not well, or you would not be so unreasonably angered because I interrupt your practice— your 56 BONNIE JEAN ; Oi:, THE POWEli OP LOVE. reliearsal. Be calm, pet, and give me a kiss. I cannot bear to see you so upset/^ "Upset ? What a word to express my misery ! Listen to me, and try to understand my despair, my weakness. I do not love you, I shrink from the touch of your hand, the sound of your voice. I am wretched, shrink from my very self; I loathe my life. Why Avill you marry me? It must mean miseiy for both of us. Release me before it is too late, for if you marry me in spite of myself, you will rue the day I became yours all your life long. Come, be generous, say I may have my freedom ? ''' " Mabel, do you wish me to set you free that you may marry another ? " "No, no; the man I would marry Avill not marry me. Remember, " She tliat will not wlicn sLc may, When she Avill, she shall have nay." ^ ^ ^ CHAPTER X. UKE stood silently regarding the enraged woman_, pain and perplexity in his kind eyes. He loved her against all reason^ and was willing to sacrifice much to marry her ; the prejudice of caste and common-sense had been set aside, trampled underfoot by his insane passion. Now he saw his folly in all its naked ugliness, yet knoAV he could not break his chains and be free, even though Satanella craved her freedom. The mere thought of losing her was keenest torture; such mad love as this he knew must mean misery, unless vSatanella could be brought to love him. He made no appeal against her unkind request then, but wisely left her with quiet dignity and complete silence. So unusual was this mode of treatment, that Satanella could hardly believe he had left her; a sort of panic seized her. What had she done ? What did his strange silence mean? Did he intend to take her at her word, and end all between them ? She thought of the malicious delight of her lady friends if the match v/ere broken off and Paul still held aloof from her. Then came the thought of all that marriage with Sir Duke meant to her — ease, lusury, and all her worldly heart held desirable. Dressing to go to the theatre she was startled by the haggard face her glass reflected, and realised for the first time that beauty must fade, and youth be but a flitting favour. ^ ^ 58 BONNIE JEAN ; A life of single blessedness was not at all in Satanella's line of business. As a young matron sbe would be lield as an honourable member of the beauty club^ but as an old maid she would be blackballed. That night she took part in the new play, " Gloire de Dijon/^ and Mabel wished to appear at her best, for she was sure Sir Duke would not dare to slight her by staying away from the theatre on a night of such im- portance to her; but gazing eagerly round the house from the flies she failed to see him, and felt her heart sink. She little knew that he was anxiously awaiting her appearance from behind a curtain in a private box. He had sense enough to see he must assert himself, or become a slave to Satanella's rule. He saw her fine eyes of steely grey-green glitter, wander round the house, saw the vivid lips compress Avith vexation, and his kind heart, lightened of half its load, began to beat hopefully. She loved him a little after all ; she could not lose him without a struggle. He longed to show himself, and to see her eyes gladden ; but prudence warned him that if he were wise he would for once assert his independence. Poor foolish fellow ! he little knew how cruel, how relentless, this beautiful woman could be ; it would have been well for him if he had freed himself from her serpent-coils at any cost. While he was looking round the house from behind his concealment, he noticed a little eager flower-like face, fresh as a newly-gathered sprig of meadow-sweet, full of anxious interest, looking at the actors. The scene was a brilliant one ; it represented Parisian Court-life; Mabel Mansie being the heroine of the piece, a celebrated beauty better favoured by fortune than fair fame. Paul Martinet was the injured husband of the play, whom Gloire de Dijon loved, but left, because with him she had to bear the curse of poverty. The acting was superb, Gloire de Dijon's love battling with prudence ; and Paul's despair, disdain, and -^ OR, THE POWER OF LOVK. 69 passiou were almost appalling in their grandeur and intensity. Seeing him so moved, the Avhole vast assembly hanging on his breath, as it were, and their hearts beating in unison with his, Jean felt afraid of her future. How great he was, hoAV grandly ho could love ! and she, poor insignificant little field-flower, had dared to beg that her little span of life might be engrafted on the grandeur of his. Once, when Satanella's white round arms encircled his neck like a necklace of pearls, Paul looked up at the bonnie girlish face, inclined with such flattering interest towards him, and he started to see a look of intense pain, a despairing anguish of love in the brown eyes, and he longed to unwind the white arms and go and comfort the childish heart that had given its first fresh passion of affection to him. In spite of himself and Satanella, Bonnie Jean was becoming an object of surpassing interest and tender- ness to the young actor ; her innocent trust, unbounded love, and great, true womanly faith flattered him into a fondness he might otherwrse have not entertaiued. Then her purity and childishness appealed to his protection and his pity; and while this woman, whose evil passion had deadened the best in him, clung to him, her heart beating like a wildly surging sea, he resolved to go to his little lady-love as soon as the play was ended, and win her back to smiles and brightness. Could Satanella have seen into his heart, and read its disloyalty to her regal self, the dagger with which, in acting, she tried to bring herself to kill her inconvenient husband, would have gone straight home and done in doleful earnest that which she nov/ only pretended to try to do. " I wish they did not act together ; the acting is so like earnest that it makes my heart ache,^^ thought Jean, sadly; and, strange to say, the same thought crossed Sir Duke's mind, as he saw Satanella shower a passionate rain of kisses on PauFs pale face. -A 60 BONNIE JEAN; Jean saw only the grand proportions^ the regal heauty^ and siren-like fascination of Satanella; she did .not look for hidden evil or debasing passion. Love to Jean meant faith, loyalty, tenderness, and irust; not jealous rage, insane delight, and fleeting rapture, that made heaven of earth one moment, hell of heaven the next. To her love meant unselfishness, Belf-surrender, and cai*e for the beloved. What did she know of the fire that consumes that which it loves, the worldly wisdom that condemns one to self-torment and despair for ambition^s sake ? Hei-3 was the love of the flowers for the sun, the eyes for the light; while Satanella's was but the lust of beaut}^ the love of power, the dominion of desire. The difference was as great as the soft sound of sweet Sabbath bells and the clash of war-demanding martial music. Paul, bred in cities, with the custom of fast living, had jet to gauge the extent of the difference between Jean's life of peaceful purity and his own life of excitement and artificial joy, such as he led in the city of sensation and servitude to custom. All the best in him inclmed to Jean, all the worst in him embraced Satanella; between two such jarring elements how he would fare time alone could prove. It was well for Jean that she could not hear Satanella's smiling aside to Paul, which for all its light- ness was full of bitterness : ''Paul, if you don't leave off making eyes at that little rustic fool, Pll spoil your part, drop your cue, and make you look an unmitigated idiot ! " And Paul replied, saying : ''What a vixen you are, Mab ! Surely I may see a pretty girl while my eyesight is spared me.'' _ " A pretty girl ? Why, she is like a little brown bird, all on the alert and twittering! Don't call her pretty while you can look upon beauty." So the play progressed, and the audience was charmed, and Satanella scored a triumph. Success is sweet to the successful, and her vanity was gratified , besides, there was always pleasure in acting -^ ^ _ ^ OR^ THE POWER OF LOVE. 61 with Paul, becaupe love for him expanded her genius as warmth opens the petals of frozen flowers. Directly the play was ended, Jean drew her wraps about her ready to depart; suppressed excitement and expectant lovo made her feel nervous, feverish, restless. Would he come to clasp hands with her, to smile into her face and say some kind sv/eet words, or would he stay behiud with that siren, Satanella, for another glimpse of whom the house rose as one man ? Her question was answered. Paul led Mabel before the curtain — Mabel, whose fleecy golden hair hung unbound about her like Diana's veil, and Avhose full white bosom rose and fell proudly above the pearl-embroidered bodice of the soft, rich satin robe she wore. Paul looked pale and tired ; his had been an anxious time, but he, too, had scored a huge success. He longed for the restful presence of his little sweetheart — his Heartsease as he loved to call her ; and so when he sought her, Jean was gladdened by seeing his tired eyes brighten as they looked into hers, and her little fluttering hands went out to him eagerly. He took them in his, and bending over her, said : " Jeannie, take me home and pet me ; I am tired out. Let me go to your hotel, and spend a quiet hour, dear, in your presence. I shall find peace and rest." " Are you so tired, poor boy ? Come then ; it will not take us long to get to the hotel, and you shall have a nice supper, and I will wait on you.'' " You little darling ! " ho said, as he drew her wraps about her. In the brougham he lay back wearily, with his hands clasped before him. Jean, like a timid child, watched him, while Eliza discreetly looked out of the window. All at once, with a yearning sigh, Paul leant towards her, laying his aching head on her breast. He felt the innocent heart throb like an imprisoned bird beneath his head, heard the soft breath como hurried by emotion, and felt there was a fascination 62 BONNIE jean; about her puriiy that no other woman would have for him. Until now, no loverlike caress had passed between these twain, so soon to become one ; but now he laid his hot lips upon hers and kissed her— a long lingering kiss that set her nerves quivering with strange sweet rapture. Arriving at the hotel, Jean went straight to her little sitting-room with Paul, who threw himself down on the couch, like one exhausted in mind and body. Jean longed to go to him and comfort him ; she slowly unbuttoned her long gloves, a shy consciousness upon her that made her avoid his eyes. She felt he was watching her, and jumped guiltily when he said : ''• Don't try to appear insensible of my presence, ma petite, but come here to me." She obeyed him mechanically ; and ho drew her down towards him, and looking into her shy bright eyes, said softly : '' Well, wee woman, how did you like the new play f " I think it is very wicked.'' " Naughty, but nice, childie, the sort of thing to fetch the public, who are always hungry for sensation. Mine is a terribly tiring part, and I expect Mab feels fatigued ; did she not act superbly ? " "Yes; it seemed more like reality than acting; one would think the despairing love portrayed so splendidly was mad, aching reality." ^^ " Suppose it were, sweetheart, would you bo jealous ? ''I don't know; I would rather not think it a possibility." Paul toyed with the cross at her throat; the cross that had led to their acquaintance. "I want petting, Jeannie ; I want you to take my head on your arm, and kiss the pain away." Jean flushed up hotly, and shrank back a little. Paul sighed. " So my little woman won't comfort her poor old man. Well, pet, perhaps you are right, I ask too much. I am afraid I have been spoilt. Give me a glass of »■ OEj THE fOWEE OF LOVE. G3 wine, pet, and fan my miserable head; it feels like a mill-wheel — throb ! throb ! throb ! " His eyes looked heavy, his cheeks were pale, and Jean felt compassionate, so she got the wine and knelt beside him as he drank it, her adoring eyes fixed on his fine face. "My innocent little love, my treasure, how sweetly good you are to me ! Try to care for me, Jeannie, for I want your love — want it really, poor little one, even as I want you. We shall not have long to wait for the right of loving each other, little girl; in two days you will be my darling wite, and then I will teach you to love me." Jean said nothing, though she knew the lesson had been learnt already, never to be unlearned in life, so she inclined her childlike face to him, and allowed him to bathe his fevered spirit in the freshness and purity of her love ; and when exhausted he fell asleep, she knelt patiently by his side till his eyes unclosed, and with a start of dismay he said : '^ My pet, you should not have let me sleep so long ; see, it is midnight. How cramped you must be ! Let me help you up. Why, you can hardly stand, my poor patient treasure." He held Jean up in his strong arms, and kissed her tenderly, saying as he prepared to go : " What a lazy ill-bred fellow you must think me, but fatigue must be my plea for forgiveness ; I will never so transgress again. I feel so bright now, it is as if you had lifted all my burdens from me in my sleep." " I wish I could, Paul." " I wish so, too, darling. Now say good-night ; I will see you to-morrow." Jean stood at her door watching him away down the dim corridor, when she saw a door open, and Satanella stand in weird white loveliness before her lover. She could not hear what they said, but she saw Mabel's hands go out to Paul, and draw him into her apartment. n- 64 EONNIS JEAN; OB^ THE TOWER OF LOVE. Jeau's lieart sauk, all the exultant joy faded away, leaving but a jealous ache, and she was glad to see the chambermaid come with her candle, and still more glad to creep into bed, and sob out her sorrow on her pillow. Poor jealous tortured heart ! a foretaste of future pain had come to warn her against the fragile hopes of happiness a union with Paul held out to her ; but it was too late to draw back, she must carry out tlie contract in which there had been no question of love. '^^ CHAPTER XI. IhE first person Jean met tlie next morning Avas Paul; she met Mm at the foot of the stairs. She turned pale, and pretended tp be too busy buttoning her gloves to see him ; but he was not to be ignored, he barred her path, saying ^"^^ " Why, Jeannie, what is tho matter? How have I offended?" . , . -, .1 1 , '' I do not know," she said simply, at a loss how to express the strange suspicion his early presence had possessed her with. i i , t t;i " I slept here last night ; it was so wet and late, 1 did not like to turn out. 1 am just going to breakfast with my friend Peters, who is staying here." ''' Indeed ! then pray don't let me detain you. 1 am going for my usual stroll.' " May I come with you, Jeannie ? " " No, I really prefer to stroll away alone ; the hour is too early for sociability." "Are you going into the park, Jeannie r « Ye§." " It will be very damp, dear. Are your boots thick ? " '' Yes. Good-bye." "Good-bye, dear. I wish you would let me come with you. Why are you so cold and strange." " I do not mean to be either, I assure you. It is only a little morning surliness that the sun will disperse." There was something in her manner that perplexed and pained Paul, who was innocent of any known offence against her. . i , i > So Jean was allowed to leave him with her heart aching wretchedly, and her faith in him shattered, for ghe believed he had won her innocent heart, and had 66 BONNIE JEAN ; gone Btraight from her pure presence to the society cf a woman "whoj instinct told her, was a formidable rival. Yet she knew she had no right to complain ; their engagement was a purely business transaction, and the obligation mutual. A miserable sensation of despair and defeat weighed down her young heart as she walked in the morning sunlight ; only two days before her marriage, and this keen jealous dread deadening youth, hope, and happi- ness within her. How could she endure it and live ? " Women cannot argue, they can only feel,'^ says Shakespeare, so Jean set aside the arguments of the mind, and let her passionate u'ndisciplined heart direct her; and Paul little guessed, as he met her on her return, the dire conflict that had torn her tender heart. She smiled on him, a sad soft smile that thrilled him, for he thought it told of a newly-awakened heart, for the first time expanding beneath the warm breath of love. " I want you to come to a private view of pictures iu Bond Street, Jean ; they are said to well reward a visit. I will call for you at three this afternoon ; until then good-bye." Jean had little appetite for luncheon, and drove Eliza distracted by the difiiculty she had over her toilette. At last she decided to wear a plumed hat and a pelisse of rich black plush trimmed with chenille frin^-e Suede gloves that buttoned to the elbow, and boots to turn a Parisian green with envy ; this, with a big bunch of white flowers at her neck, and plenty of jet and brilliant jewellery, made Jean look a most distingue little person. Paul started with surprise at sight of her elegant toilette, her simple taste and deep mourning had led him to believe her rather a doAvdy, and he was delighted to see she had come out of her shell for once to do him credit. The gallery was crowded with gaily-dressed people — "real swells" as Paul explained, pointing to a handsome young duchess and her serious middle-aged ^ M OR, THE POWEK OF LOVE. 67 lover-liko husband ; a royal duke and a pretty foreign princess T.'ere also among the throng, and a group of I'amous men of letters and artists. Jean was greatly entertained, for she loved pictures, ' and here was a collection to gladden the heart of a connoisseur. Thus chatting together on such a pleasant subject as art and artists, Jean and Paul spent a pleasant after- noon, and seemed to know each other better than they had yet had time to do. Just as they were about to leave the gallery, a buzz; of admiration went round ; ladies put up their glasses and stared at the new comers with haughty displeasure ; men bowed, smiled, and whispered together mysteriously. The new comers were Mabel and Sir Duke. As Mabel entered, a gentleman said to another : " Look, that is the woman they call Satanella, the most beautiful and most dangerous woman on the London stage. Is she not superb ? Paul Martinet has been her constant lover for a long time, but Sir Marmaduke Dandergard has completely cut him out. See Sir Duke ? lie is a devil to go the pace ; he won the Liverpool Cup with a horse of his,'' &c. Jean instinctively turned to Paul, who smiled upon her kindly, saying : '^ Mere gossip, dear child ; do not let it trouble you. Satanella and I are good friends — hon camarades, nothing more. She is a desperate little lump of deter- mination, and means to get into society somehow ; she is out-and-out the handsomest woman in the room, which, added to the masculine admiration she provokes, makes the grandes dames dead set against her." Satanella had not noticed Paul, she stood in the centre of an admiring crowd of men ; she was robed in cream plush and cashmere, and her dainty head was decked with a huge hat made entirely of cream feathers. She carried a large bouquet of purple flowers, and her fair proud face was flushed with excitement. Sir Duke had called for her according to a previous arrangement, but he had not as yet made the complete 3fe- ^p 68 BONNIE jean; surrender of his pride that slie desired ; he was politely cold and distant, and had not referred in any way to their quarrel, if so one-sided a diif erence could be called a quarrel. He meant to make a stand against her domineering temper, but he yearned to be friends with her; and she guessed his desire, and did not mean to make the reconciliation any too easy for him. Just now she contented herself with tormenting him by flirting with his favourite chum. Paul gave a sigh of relief to think she did not sec him ; he still retained a lively recollection of a terrible scene he had with her the night before. Just as Jean and he were going out of the doorway, Satanella saw them. For a second her eyes blazed and her face was livid, then by a strong effort she controlled her emotion and continued her chat, but in her heart there was but one thought, and that a dread that Paul would learn to love Jean, and forget her and her exacting love. Glad to be away from Satanella's siren face, Paul led Jean out into the fresh air, his heart full of tender- ness for her. He hailed a hansom and drove to a restaurant in the Strand, where they had a delicious repast, and then went on to the theatre together. It was the first time Jean had been behind the scenes, and she was greatly disenchanted by what she saw ; such a dismal, ugly, dirty place she declared she had never seen. The green-room was less objectionable than the rest. The manager, a little busy man, with a jolly, honest face, was introduced to Jean, and did the honours of the place to the best of his ability, while Paul went to dress for his part in a gamekeeper's garb of shabby brown velveteen, leather gaiters, and a wide-awake hat. " Miss Mansie is late as usual," fumed the manager ; " do you know where she is, Martinet ? " " I met her in Bond Street two hours ago with Dandergard. I do not think she will trouble to change OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 69 lier costume; slio had an extensive get-up of croara colour, a costume suited for the first act." " That is tidings of comfort and joy, for she takes no end of, time to get into her gorgeous array as a rule. Ah, here she is ! " A radiant figure flashed in upon them, laughing brightly at some remark from her companion, whom Jean recognised as Sir Marmakuke Dandergard. " Well, little fly-by-night, did you think I meant to be late ? " said Satanella, tapping the manager's cheek with her fan. " Yes, I did think so ; as it is, you are only just in time — there's your call." ^' Where is my woman, Lucy ? Lucy, you little wretch, bring me some powder and a fresh handker- chief at once." A meek-looking little woman came forward with the desired articles, in a swift, silent way that struck Jean as an invaluable quality in a maid. A second later, Mabel stood before an euraptui'ed audience as Gloire de Dijon, and the man who was so soon to be Jean's lord and master, brought Sir Duke to Jean before going to enact the part of the wronged and loving husband. Sir Duke and Jean stood by the wings, and watched the actors, a jealous aching in the heart of each, as the actors went through their passionate scene of remorse, reproach, and love. Theirs was splendid acting — so real, indeed, did it seem to the two who watched them^ with their hearts in their eyes, that both were glad when the first scene was over, and the actors before them. Satanella favoured Jean with a nod and a smile, and bade Sir Duke get them some claret-cup which he did, delighted to be of some use to his queen. " I saw you at the gallery to-day, Paul , why did you not speak to me ? " '^ I thought you were too busy with your swell friends to find time to talk to an old friend ; besides, I did not \Yish to inti'oduce my little girl to the fastest set of men about town." Satanella laughed unpleasantly. 70 BONNIE JEAN ; " ' Your little girl ' may not thank you for keeping her out of the best company the place contained. I warrant before she is a year-old matron she will flirt with fifty such fine fellows to your face." " Heaven forbid ! " said Paul, looking at his little lady, who, with heightened colour and defiant eyes, said : " I hope I shall never desire to know anyone whom my husband deems unfit for a good woman's society." " Hush, child ! don't promise too much ; he can be very exacting when he cares for anyone, and I hear yours is quite a love match. A dangerous trial of love is marriage. Now, Paul is a fearful flirt, and you must keep a strict look-out unless you would be a deceived, deserted woman." Satanella had spoken in an undertone, seeing that Paul was intently talking to the manager about some plight alteration in the last act that dragged a little. Jean felt vaguely uneasy ; she did not like Satanella for all the witchery of her smile, and the thought that Paul had gone so late to her room rankled. Not that she thought evil of them — " to the pure all things are pure " — but she was secretly jealous, and wished beyond all things that Satanella's friendship, if friendship it was, with Paul would cease. Sir Duke came back and tempted Jean to taste the delicious compound. She liked Sir Duke ; he was so manly, upright, and honest — a man to trust. Poor Jean ! her heart was uneasy ; she wondered if she did well to marry a man who had no love for her, even though, by so doing, she saved her dear home. She could not help thinking her poor aunt had been a little mad to make such a will, and yet she guessed that she had done it at the time a very clever, sensible young doctor, who had been staying at the rectory, had been paying Jean some tender attentions; but this young doctor had suddenly left Deepdane to go abroad on a foreign mission, and she had never seen or heard from him since, though she knew that an uncle of his, near Deepdane, had promised to leave him a pretty property at his death. -^ OE, THE POWER OF L0V15. 71 A dear old gentleman was this uncle, by name Silas Drake, and lie had gone out of his way to hint to Jean that she must think of his nephew, Bertie Drake, as a friend only. Jean had felt a little hurt at this hint ; for, child as she was, she had a woman's pride, and did not like to be supposed to have given her love unasked — for, indeed, she had not ; beyond thinking of Bertie Drake as a pleasant, clever fellow, she had felt no interest in him. Paul came up, and seeing her so thoughtful, said : " Well, petite, what are you brooding over ? " " I am not brooding, I assure you. Miss Mansie has given me food for thought : she says you are a fearful flirt." Paul laughed, but his eyes flashed ominously, and he said a little sternly : " Jean, you must not attach any importance to such foolish statements. Miss Mansie only meant to tease ; yet it was hardly kind to me. You must learn to trust me, childie, and believe the best of me if we are to hit it off comfortably together. Ah, my call ! Get out of the draughts, dear; you will take cold. Are you tired ? Would you like to go into a box ? " ''Yes, I think I should, please." " Merrick will look after you — won't you, old fellow ? " said Paul, as the manager came up. The manager, of course, was delighted, and led his pretty chai-ge away, pleased to get someone to listen to his plans for future improvement in the theatre. Paul came to her box at the end of the play looking tired and wretched, and Jean, always kindly sympathetic in cases of physical suffering, said tenderly : "You look tired, Mr. Martinet. Come to my hotel and get some supper ; you will be quit^t with me." "1 will come with pleasure. Miss Pridie, when you ask me properly. Say, ' Paul, dear, come home with me,' and Pll come. That 'Mr. Martinet' of yours is enough to curdle one's blood." He was putting Jean's cape on as he spoke, and pulled her head back so that it rested on his breast. Jean blushed^ and said shyly : rl BONNIE JEAN J OR, THE POWER OF LOTS, " I will always call you Paul if you wish \i" Paul touched her forehead lightly with his lips. "That's a good lady to humour her old man ! Come^ dear^ the crush is tremendous ; we will avoid it by going through the stage entrance/' The light was dim, and but for his strong hand Jean would have stumbled many times. At the stage-door he left her a second to send a message to Mr. Merrick, and Jean stood back in the shadows. Someone, muffled in snowy wraps, passed her, and paused a moment to speak to a little lady who wore diamonds in her hair : " Mab, dear, tell me, is it really the truth that you are going to allow Paul to marry some ugly little heiress ? I heard it from Bertie." " Why, certainly, Sophy ; why not ? I am going to marry myself, so it was best my poor boy should have some tie to keep him in order. He is dreadfully cut up. Hates the girl like poison, which is bad form, for she is rather a nice little nonentity — a perfect baby, to be moulded like wax in Paul's strong hands. 1 heard something of a honeymoon among the lakes, but put my veto on that. I can't afford to give him up till I've hooked Sir Duke, so I made him promise to spend the honeymoon at Brighton. There are the races, you know, and all our set make a grand ' meet ' of it. You know my motto is, 'Eat, drink, and be merry, for to- morrow we die ! ' " "Ah., Sat, you are as shocking a daredevil as ever ! Well, it will be rough on the little wife. I hoped better things of Paul ; he has such a kind heart, hates so to inflict pain." " Therefore, for the sake of ' auld lang syne,' spares me all he can. W^here is my brougham ? Duke has been a deuce of a time getting it. Can we srive vou a lift, Sophy ? " ^ ^ "Not to-nio-ht, dear. Ah, here's Sir Marmaduke ! You lucky girl to have so gallant a wooer. Good- night ! " Jean felt her heart sink sadly ; all the pleasure of the evening had fled. NOTICE.— This Work will be published every "Wednesday. Orders should be given to your Bookseller early. BONNIE JEAN. Ho. 4 NOTICE.—With No. 5 will be Given Away a Coloured Picture for binding with the Work. » 74 BONNIE jean; or, the rOVTER OF LOVE. Should slie tell Paul what she had heard ? Modesty and maidenly reserve said No ; indignation and pain said Yes. Yet what right had she to interfere in his arrangements ? He was going to marry her because she had begged him to do so to save her from beggary. He had professed no affection, only friendship and trust. It was for her the task of winning his heart, and wean- ing him from the follies of the past. But what could she do against Satanolla ? Yet surely, when she was Sir Duke's wife, she dare not keep the love of another woman's husband.- Just then Paul came back, apologising for the delay. ^'How you shiver, dear; are you cold, tired, or what ? " " I think I am both. Oh, Paul, take me away from the gloom and darkness of this place. It feels like a tomb." Out in the lamplight, Paul started at the ghastly pallor of her face, and said tenderly : "You poor, patient child, you are ill. Tell rae, are you in pain, dear ? " Jean put her hand to her heart with a little gasping Bigh, saying : " Yes, the hurt is here; I have a pain in my heart." ^^^^^^^^^^m^L.^^^^"^" >t ^ CHAPTER XII. E ANNIE, hold out your left hand, and let me see if this will fit/' Paul stood by the open window in Jean's pretty sitting-room; the sun glinted on his fair head and bonnie blue eyes, and danced gaily on the glittering ring he held. Jean had a basket of red roses in her hand, and was dressed in pure white, with rufifles of fine soft lace at her throat and wrists. Yery pure, sweet, fresh, and maidenly she looked, though her brown eyes were heavy, and her cheeks white as early snowdrops. She came towards him a little reluctantly, and kept her eyes upon his hand. He lifted her slender pretty hand, and placed upon it a splendid hoop of brilliants, saying as he did so : " It fits beautifully ; now I know the size of the other, the ring that will link our lives together in a golden bondage." Somehow the words hurt Jean, and her lips quivered as she said : ^'Now the time draws so near, Paul, do you repent '' Ai*e you not afraid of all marriage means ? Remember, it is for life, Paul ; a lifetime without love looks bleak and barren." '' Ah, but the love will blossom out brightly and sturdily as the everlasting gorse that gilds the barren places of the earth. Cheer up, little girl, and look for sunshine, that must gleam somewhere ahead for us. i don't like to see your bonnie face gloomed by doubt, Jeannie." " And you like me a little, Paul ? " "My dear little baby-face, I like you a great deal, how much you will know some day, when our heads are grey, and there are sturdy sons and daughters growing A 76 BONNIE JEAN ; up about us, like young saplings beside the parent tree." Jean liuug lior bead and twisted the ring about thoughtfallj. "By-the-bye, Jeannie, do you mind spending part of our honeymoon at Brighton. There are the races and lots of fun. I never miss the races. I should be dis- appointed if we did not go." Jean's lips quivered. She remembered the dark entry at the theatre, and Satanella's boast, and felt inclined to coax him out of the idea. Then pride came to the rescue ; she must trust him if she would respect him, and surely Satanella's was but a vain boast ; she should see a v/ife has a charm in her husband's sight that no other can possess. Besides, she shrank from opposing his first request. She was so keenly sensitive about putting him under pecuniary obligation ; she wanted him to keep his independence ; she hated the idea of a man being too heavily weighted with his wife's wealth ; so though her heart sank, and she had to gulp down a great sob of disappointment, she said bravely : " Anywhere that pleases you will please me." And her poor little heart lightened absurdly when, in the shamefaced manner some men use when speaking of their best motives, he continued : '' I am sure you do not mind, dear, for the fact is, a few professionals propose to get up an entertainment, race-week, for the benefit of a poor little widow, whose husband managed a provincial theatre that got burnt down, burying poor Tom Staincr in the ruins. There are a heap of healthy handsome youngsters, and the poor little woman is fairly cornered ; so you see, I can combine business with pleasure." Jean heaved a sigh of relief, and stroked the strong white hand that held hers approvingly ; she was so glad to find an excuse in that good deed for her hero's weak- ness. She had grand schemes, poor girl, of winning him from past follies and present temptations by the power of love in her pure heart. Alas ! how hard a task she had planned she little knew, or surely the OR^ THE rOWER OF LOVE. 77 briglifc spirit had drooped, and the good purpose die J, strangled at birth. The heat was almost tropical on the morning that was to make Paul and Jean man and wife. Jean rose early, and looked out on the bright earth and sky with powerful eyes. She felt the need of a motherly sympathy; it seemed hard to stand alone on this, the most important moment of her life. Eliza, grim and unsympathetic, brought her mistress a cup of tea, and while she drank it, shook out the soft rich folds of her French-grey ottoman-silk dress, with its pearl buttons, and soft feather trimming; a bonnet made of the same coloured feathers, with a wee wideawake- looking little bird in front, and a pair of ten-button gloves of the same tint, lay on a table close by, pretty trifles that should have delighted the eyes of a bride. But Jean was not to be interested in any such trifles ; the only thing that made her eyes brighten with plea- sure was a beautiful bouquet of pure white blossoms, fringed by delicate maidenhair ferns; this, of course, came from Paul. Jean was nearly dressed when there came a quiet knock at the door, and the chambermaid gave Eliza a package for her mistress. Jean tore it open eagerly. It proved to be a handsome jewel-case, and flashing and sparkling like an April sky there lay on the sofl bed of white velvet a magnificent set of opals — brooch, earrings, bracelets, and rings. "A most costly present," said Jean, her heart sinking at sight of the ill-omened gems. "I wonder who sent it ? '' she said, turning the bracelets, so that they fla'^hed fiery red in the sun. "Here is a card, miss," said Eliza, upon which Jean read : " From Satanella and Duke, with sincere congratula- tions, hoping the bonnie bride will wear the gems with her wedding bravery." ''I don't like to put them on, Eliza; they are con- sidered so unluck}'.'' »- 7S BONNIE JEAN ;- '' Stufi i How can an insensible stone influence your future for good or ill ? They are very handsome^ and will look well with your dress. Mr. Martinet might not like his friends' presents slighted." Jean put one of the solitaire earrings into her shell- like ear — it looked lovely; then she clasped the brooch among the lace at her throat and put the bracelets over her long gloves. The effect was dazzling upon the soft tender tint of the robe she wore ; never had Jean seen herself look so charming. Her soft nut-brown hair, with its feathery crown, looked beautiful; the flowing train gave her petite girlish figure dignity and grace. " Do you think 1 look well, Eliza ? " "Too well for a play-actor's wife, Miss Jean." " Hush, Eliza ! you forget Mr. Martinet, though he i,■^ an actor, is also a gentleman, and the man I most honour under heaven. Wish me God-speed, dear, cross old woman, if not for my own, for poor auntie's sake ; remember she loved me, I was her Bonnie Jean, her own little lassie." Tears dimmed the beautiful eyes that looked so appealingly at the hard-faced woman, whose rugged face worked nervously; then like a storm over a gaunt mountain came the signal of distress. Taking her young mistress in her old arms, Eliza kissed her, while tears splashed down upon the bridal bouquet from her hard old eyes. May God bless and guard you, dearie. You are very near my heart, though I am so cold and hard. I can never forget that you were the one sunbeam that brightened my poor old mistress's dreary path through life. Never, while I live, shall you be without a friend to watch over, ah, and fight for you while life lasts. Now dry your eyes, my pretty; never take tears to church on your wedding-day. Hark ! the clock is striking ten. Go down, dearie ; your friends are waiting." Jean wiped her eyes, and left the room with a radiant smile. In the sitting-room she found Mr. Dove, the lawyer, and the rector of Deepdane, a fine, florid man of sixty, with a handsome white head and a cheerful smile. J^— : ^ OE, THE POWER OP LOVE. 79 He had brought with him one of his daughters^ a bonnie buxom country lassie, with bright blue eyes and flaxen hair, a girl Jean had known all her life. " I am glad to see you, Violet ; it was kind of you to come, dear,'' said Jean,, shaking hands with tho girl affectionately. " Father said you would not want me, Jean, but 1 knew better. If I may, I should like to go to church with you j father has arranged v,-ith the clergyman to marry you.^^ ;'I am glad of that, Mr. Brassy; it is nice to see Friendly faces about one at such a time as this. 1 suppose we can all crowd into one brougham. We want the affair to be kept quiet; it is so soon after the death of dear auntie.'-" ''Jeannie, why wear those gems, dear? They are very beautiful, but so unlucky/' said Violet, pointing tu the jewels Jean wore. " They are a present, dear, from some of Mr. Mar- tinet's friends ; I w^as afraid they would take it as an offence if I did not wear them," " Of course, my dear child, you are quite right ; they are very fine stones, the most beautiful, I think, of all precious stones. As to their being unlucky^ that's nonsense ! God never gave a beautiful thing to the world for an evil purpose. Wear them by all means, Jean, if only to prove you have a mind above petty superstition. Come, we have no time to lose." Mr. Brassy drew Jean's hand through his arm, and led her down to the carriage. With much laughter and bustle, they managed to comfortably settle themselves in the carriage, and in a second were being driven through the sunny streets to the quiet square where at the entrance of a gaunt grey stono church Paul paced impatiently. He brightened up at sight of Jean's lovely flushed face. He was introduced to her friends in the vestry, and Vi felt her friend was to be envied when she looked up to Paulas magnificent manhood with admiration. 80 BONNIE JEAN ; " They grow nothing so splendid at Deepdane, dear," bIig v/liispered to Jcan^ with an admiring look at the bridegroom, Jean smiled a sad, proud little smile, as she thought how proud, how happy she could be if she knew her he 10 loved her. There were only a few people in the church. Jean knelt by "the altar-rail, but just as the service commenced there was a slight commotion, and four people entei^ed with much subdued bustle and sound of suppressed laughter. Paul frowned, and looked round to see Satanella, radiant in ruby satin and cream plush, with Duke looking sheepish by her side, followed by Sophy Shad- dock and Mr. Merrick. Satanella's heart wa:3 in a flame of disappointed love ; she would willingly have struck Jean dead where she stood. Paul clasped Jean's hand closer, and his face had a hard set look, like an animal at bay, though his heart, hotly resentful, felt a glow of pride in the grace and beauty of his bonnie bride. The uuinvited wedding-guests arranged themselves round the bridal party, evidently intent upon being part and parcel of the ceremony. "With an impatient sigh Paul looked at the rector as much as to say " Proceed. ^^ Satanella raised the bouquet of lovely damask roses she carried to her face, against which her dazzling fair skin showed white as death. Sir Duke looked uneasy ; he did not relish his posi- tion, particularly when he saw the frown gather on Paul's stern face. It seemed to Paul like desecration for Satanella to stand beside his pure girl-wife in God's house ; a sense of the unfitness of thiugs disturbed him ; he longed to order these uninvited guests away_, but dared not make a scene at such a time. So the beautiful service proceeded, and Jean's soft clear voice responded calmly, and Paul's heart softened towards her as he felt her hand quiver in his strong clasp. OE^ THE rOWER OF LOVE. 81 Everyoue knelt for the benediction^ and wlien Paul and Jean rose from tlieir knees man and wife, a sliglit commotion caused tliem to pause on their way to thu vestry, to see Satauella still kneeling insensible by thu altar-rail, Paul hurried Jean into the vestry, while means were sought to restore the insensible woman, who, with a shuddering sigh, unclosed her eyes, to see before her a cross of pure white flowers, and about it, like a heavenly vision, the pictured face of the Saviour. -With a gasp and cry she turned to Duke, saying : "Take me away; this place stifles me. We will wait outside. Take me away.'' —^ — ^ CHAPTER XIII. iHEN Paul and Jean sought their carriage^ they found Sir Duke waiting for them. "Tell the man to drive to Richmond^ Paul," said Mr. Merrick. " Sir Duke has ordered a spread; we weren't to be left out in the cold by such a dear old pal — not if we knew it. The day is delightful ; you cannot disappoint us. Mrs. Martinet, I appeal to you." " 1 leave it to my husband and my friends/' said Jean, timidly, as she seated herself by Paul's side. " Hang it all, man ! a fellow ought to be able to direct his wedding-day as he desires, I should think. Surely I see enough of you fellows every day, without being obliged to share my bridal bliss with you. Confound it ! you know it's deuced bad form to crowd m upon a fellow like this ; but I don't want to seem ungrateful or make a scene so order the carriage to Richmond." Mr. and Miss Brassy were delighted at the pro- gramme, and as Mr. Dove revelled in the good things of life, they soon settled themselves cosily down among the others, and started for the delicious drive. Jean and Paul rode alone. There was a heavy cloud on Paul's face; it hurt him bitterly to think that Satanella should gloom the brightness of his wedding- day by her evil presence, yet he knew he could not shake her off without making a scene, and that could not be thought of; he would not degrade Jean before her friends. A grim sense of humour made him smile to think how the highly-respectable pious country folk would shudder if they only knew the society in which they had consented to be entertained. Some of the fastest folk about town, thought Paul — pretty companions ^ BONNIE JEAN ; OR, THE rOWEK OF LOVE. 83 for this quiet country parson and liis HcLe-liko daughtors. So engrossed was lie by bis own tbougbtSj tbat be bad not noticed bis little wife, who sat witb ber bauds clasped before her, looking miserably out on the summer sunshine. She felt oppressed by a presentiment of evil ; it seemed so hard to her tbat Paul's friends could not give him up to ber for this one day, and the gloom on his face added to her wretchedness. Presently two big hot tears welled up to her sad eyes, and splashed down on her gloves. Paul, who bad turned to her witb a sigh, saw them, and his heart ached for her. Taking her in bis arms, he crushed her up to him, saying : '^ What, tears, my v/ee wifie ? What do they mean ? Let me kiss them away. Poor little pet ! I pray Heaven you may never have cause for tears tbat I cannot charm away with caresses. Cheer up, Jeannie ; look how the day sparkles upon us, full of bright promise for our future. Where did you get those wonderful opals, dear ? " '^ Miss Mansie and Sir Duke sent them as a present to your bride, Paul." " Confound them ! why did they not select something of better omen ? Never mind, dear, they are very lovely ; and aite*" all, there can be no truth in the saying that they bring bad luck. I am sorry we bad to come • hero to-day. I ordered apartments at the Bedford; we must wire to say we cannot come till late, or leave it till to-morrow.''^ ^^\ would rather go to-night, Paul. Eliza has gone on with the luggai^e; she said you gave her directions." " So I did, which was fortunate, for it makes things easier. We must manage to get away eai'ly. Look at the flaming sun, it seems eager to outshine itself. Do you feel the heat ? Let me draw down the blin,d — that's better. But what a ghastlylook tbat green silk throws on ^nyone^s face ? You look like a corpse." She smiled sadly; she felt impatient of ber own low sprits ; she shrank from meeting these strangers on her wedding-day. But they were PauFs friends, so sho ^ 84 BONNIB JIAN; kept silentj watching the changing scenery with heavy eyes. Paul looked silently at the little drooped figure, and felt remorseful ; it was hard to see such a heavy shadow on his bride's face. His heart yearned over her; she was so youngj so lonely, so dependent upon him for happiness. An impulse of tender compassion moved him to stretch out his arms and draw her into his embrace. She lay silently upon his breast, her face hidden, vaguely wondering what could be the cause of the dull dreary ache of her heart. Somehow, Paul's caresses increased rather than lessened it. She longed for the privacy of her own chamber to give way to her emotion, and to relieve her overcharged heart by a good cry. Arrived at the Star and Garter, they were bois- terously received by their friends, who crowded round in ridiculously high spirits. A private room was reserved for their reception, and a charming champagne breakfast already prepared. Satanella sat by the open window, overlooking the lovely view of the Thames. On the balcony outside. Sir Duke and Paul smoked their cigars, while Jean talked in an undertone to the rector about home and Deepdane gossip, while Violet gave her whole attention to Mr. Merrick. Sophy Shaddock leant over the balcony, picking ■ some red roses to pieces, and scattering their petals upon the head of a bald old gentleman, who, like " Queen Anne,'' sat in the sun and slept. Sophy had a kind heart, and she was touched by the trouble in the poor little bride's face. Why did Satanella torture this young heart ? Why did she still try to cast her glamourie around that good-natured Paul ? Sir Duke strolled to Sophy's side, and said : " Well, sly-boots, what mischief are you up to now ? Pelting that aged man with roses ? Why, who is it ? By Jove, I do believe it is Shaddock I " s? -?^ OEj THE POWEE OP LOVE. 85 "Right you are^ old man; there slumbers my * lord and master.' He told me he had pressing business in the City, and I thought it was good enough to come here. Now you see the idle rascal taking his ease like this. I wonder who he has brought with him, the old sinner ? I mean to keep dark and see. Horrible old reprobate ! you should have seen him kissing his hand to me as he went away, with a rose I gave him in his coat. How he will shrink into his shrivelled old shell when he knows I am up to his tricks — little, deceitful, hoary old villain ! He is always preaching propriety to me and begrudging me money. He shall treat me to a trip to Brighton and the races for this." Sophy's fine eyes sparkled. Sir Duke looked amused ; he knew Sophy to be too cool a hand to make a scene, so he did not mind ; and like her he was wh* lly engrossed in looking for Shaddock's " Little Vanity."_ She was not long in appearing, a pert, barmaidish young party, with a ridiculously waspish waist and dollish face. Sophy smiled at sight of her. While Sophy and Duke were discussing Sani Shad- dock's little scandal, Satanella was saying behind her fan to Paul : " What is the use of being angry ? you could not expect me to take this miserable business quietly. Why, I could shoot that silly baby-wife of yours as easily as I could a sparrow. I tell you you may drive me too far ; I will not be set aside for any woman in the world, not even your wife. It is quite useless to glare at me' and pretend to be disgusted. I know better — you love me; I hold your heart in the hollow of my hand. This marriage is but a business transaction, a mere matter of money ; if I thought it was not, I would do something desperate." " I think you have been desperate enough already — making a scene in church, and then compelling us to come here to avoid a row. I wonder you have not more pride, more discretion. What will Duke think ? " " Duke, indeed ! What do I care ? He may think what he pleases ; I have never tried to deceive him , I »- ■^ 80 BONNIE JEAN; OK^ THE POWER OF LOVE. am uot afraid of losing liim. 1 have iried to get rid of bim, witliout success; lie takes me witli his eyes open." " MoiHS fool he, ma helle diahle ! " said Paul, savagely, as he stole a look at his bride's pale face. She was watching the group at the window with a sad heart-sinking. Satanella's unusual beauty seemed to strike her afresh. ''What a very lovely woman Miss Mansie is," said the rector, following Jean's eyes. "Yes, she is very beautiful, and has great talent. My husband and she are old friends ; they act together so charmingly." " Does your husband intend to give up his profession now he is master of Deepdane ? The estate needs a master." ''Yes; but I cannot exjDect my husband to give up his gi'eat aim and interest in life to dwindle into a mere land-steward. I intend to look out for a good man of business to take the management." The rector grunted out his dissatisfaction, and changed the subject, saying : "■ By-the-bye, Albert Drake has bought Dr. Dengel's practice; he desired me to remember him kindly to you." Jean's face lighted up. Bertie and she had been such real good friends, it was nice to think they would be neighbours. Here breakfast demanded their attention, and they sat down to one of the maddest, merriest meals imagin- able. IsTo one would have imagined, to hear the light laughter, the witty jokes, that there were aching hearts hidden under the gay exterior. -^^^^Mzzzi:^ s?- CHAPTER XIV. I HE sun was setting in a glory of crimson and gold as tlie bride and bridegroom bade their friends farewell by tbe side of the rivei'j for the party had decided to wind-np with a row on the glorious Thames. As they got into their boat^ Mr. Shaddock came to the boat-house to get a craft. Sophy's voice attracted hinij he saw her sitting beside the manager, rosy and roguish; she waved her hand to him, and shouted, "Bon voyage, mon mari," and with those light words, and the 'flash of her fine eyes, there faded in fearful gloom all the enjoyment out of Sam Shaddock's stolen holiday ; for the old sinner, dog-in-the-manger-like, could be insanely jealous of the wife he deceived daily, and she looked quite too jolly by the side of fascinating Mr. Merrick. * Paul laughed immoderately at the sight of the little old man's indignant look; he explained the little contretemps to Jean, who heard it with a shuddering sense of disgust. " How can you think so lightly of such a wretched state of things ! Fancy how miserable poor Mrs. Shaddock must feel after finding her husband out." "What! Sophy feel miserable. Not she; she is simply highly delighted and diverted. It is Sammy who seems upset; he was always jealous of Merrick, because he knew he admired Sophy. They were eno-aged once, I believe, but broke it off foolishly for a lovers' quarrel. Then Sophy, always a madcap, married, out of pique, that rich old idiot, who has not the sense to know that he gives his wife rope enough to hang herself by his own disloyalty." ^^ Don't talk about it any more, Paul; such things Bpoil the charm of this beantlful Wdrld. What a 88 BONNIE JEAN ; lovely place this is; I almost envy our friends their row ! " " Shall I get a boat for you, pet, and row you back ? I should like to do one thing to please you to-day. Somehow I feel sure jow have not been happy to-day ? " And- Paul took the little hand in his. Jean smiled bravely and brightly into his face, and said : '^I think we had better get back by road; it is getting late, and we have another journey before we can rest." " And you are tired ? "What a selfish fellow I am, dear ! You must teach me to care for you. I am afraid I am not at all a lady's man. Shall we put up at the hotel here for to-night, and go on to Brighton to- morrow i " No, no ; let us get away before they come back ; I cannot bear any more excitement to-night." Jean spoke with such suppressed excitement that Paul felt puzzled. Was it possible Satanella had found time to pour the poisoned sting of her cruel jealousy into this girl's tortured heart ? , Yet no, they had not been alone ; she could not have found an opportunity. Anxious to spare her further annoyance, Paul put her into the carriage, and started for town. The poor little bride was very silent ; she sat picking the lace at her wrist, and wondering vaguely if all wives felt miserable on their wedding-day. Somehow Satanella's weird haunting beauty filled Jean with dread. How could any man resist such v.itchery, she wondered; why, even the stately rector was captivated. " A penny for your thoughts, ma petite" Jean started guiltily, the lost colour flaming to her cheeks. "My thoughts were not worth record, Paul. I feel the air very oppressive; I am afraid we shall have a Btorm." "'It certainly looks like it, dear. Hark! that was thunder. Did you see the lightning ? It looked crand 8^ OE^ THE rOWEK OF LOVE. 89 teariug up the grey vapours of the upper air. By Jove ! how those horses tear along." Here he put his head out of the window and shouted : " I say, coachman ; what's wrong with your horses ? " " A bit skittish, sir ; they shied at the lightning." " I should think they did. By heavens^ what a down- pour ! " Paul turned to look at Jean, who had hidden her white face in her trembling hands. " Why, sweetheart, what's the matter ? " '^ Nothing; only I am so afraid of the storm. Oh, Paul, is it not dreadful ? " " Why, you poor child, how ill you look ! I am sorry you are scared; think what it must be like on the river." " Awful ! Oh, I wish we were under shelter. I know you think me very silly, but really I feel as if I should die with fright." Paul took her in his arms compassionately^ and hid her face on his breast. Still the thunder tore up the terrified clouds, and the vivid lightning flashed its forked glances, turning the grey heavens to flame-lights. Boom, boom, boom ! The horses plunged, then started as though .lashed into fury by the elements. All at once, a more vivid flash than any struck a gnarled old tree by the wayside, shrivelling its grand limbs, and laying low the greatness that had been tho growth of centuries. Crash came the blackened tree, right across the high- way ; there was a confused upi'oar, a terrible rocking and swaying of the carriage ; then it fell over a wreck, and the maddened horses tore away, freed by the broken shafts and maimed hands of the insensible coachman. Paul came to his senses to find himself bleeding horribly from a wound in his head. His ^rst thought was of Jean, who lay white and still beside him, her little hands clenched, and her lips compressed as though in resolute calm. He dragged her out of the debris, and laid her on a soddened bank, 90 BONNIE JEAN ; The storm still raged_, and the rain beat down on the insensible girlish face. Paul then hastily looked for the coachman, who wag thrown some distance off ; he was recovering himself as Paul got to him, and said dolefully : " Dash it ! Here, guv'nor, this is a pretty go. I wonder what those brutes will do next ? My arm's smashed into smithereens. I feel like a plum in a pan- cake or in a batter, don't you know.^' " Can you get up, my man ? Give me your hand — so. Ah, that's better ; two of us have found our feet at any rate ; but I am afraid my poor little wife is more badiV off. Confound that crooked old tree ! I wish it was not Eo devilish dark.'^ Paul had groped his way back to Jean, and after hastily tying up his broken head, he lifted her up. She opened her eyes with a groan, and said ; "Oh, Paul, I am afraid my leg is broken; it is in agony. Hide me from the lightning, dear; it is so very, very dreadful ; I cannot face it." Paul sheltered her as well as he could; the rain beat down heavily upon his uncovered head, making him feel cool and clear of thought. Poor Jean lay a helpless load on his breast, her pretty silken draperies drenched and soiled, her beautiful hair loosened into bonnie brown waves. The coachman had made a sling of his handkerchief and secured his arm, but ho was in great pain, but not so taken up with his own sufferings as to forget the others. He looked compassionately, after a while, at the little helpless figure in Paul's arms^ and asked kindly if the lady was much injured. " I fear so," said Paul. " Something must be done , we can't stop here all night. Where are we ? " " We've done about half our journey, sir. There's a village close by; if it wasn't for the rain you would see the lights shining ahead of us. Pll get on there as quick as possible and get a conveyance of some sort for you and the lady. Perhaps I may overtake those brutes on the way; I hope they have come to no harm; -k >?— - ^ OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 91 fhey are vakiable beasts^ and I've got fond of them. We call ttem Tom and Jerry, because they know their way so well about town. 1^11 be back in a brace of s-hakes, sir. You sit down on that tree-trunk, and just ^ive a shout if you hear any horses coming. TU get a man or two to more this somehow.^' Paul groaned impatiently as the man paused a moment to inspect the broken carriage ruefully. Sitting alone amid the gloom of the storm-swept meadows, Paul felt his heart sink as he laid his hot lips against his wife's wet cheeks. This was a bad beginning for a honeymoon, he thought, with just a little self-pity mingling with his compassion for Jean. The time lagged horribly, and still Jean lay like a dead thing, insensible to the voice that had become the sweetest music in the world to her, and Paul found him- self counting, with frantic impatience, the minutes. '^ She will die if she is left much longer like this," he thought wretchedly, as he smoothed the tumbled hair back from her broad low forehead. Surely that must be the tramp of horses in the distance, but they came from the wrong direction. Paul shouted for the oncomers to stop ; two shining lights flashed through the gloom, and a man, with the rattle of cab doors hastily thrown back, sprang out of the hansom, and said sharply : " Good heavens, what a narrow escape. You, I see, have met with an accident. I hope there is not much damage done ?" The speaker had a frank, pleasant voice, and hastily leapt to Paul's side, followed by the driver with a lamp. The light flashed across Jean's livid face, and Paul's haggard eyes saw with dismay that it was grey and drawn ; and with a cry of intense dread, he said hoarsely : "Merciful God! I am nursing a dead woman! Oh, poor darling ! can nothing be done? What would I give for some brandy ! it might revive her. Will that wretched fellow "never come? Oh, thir? is horrible! 1 cannot endure this suspense. Is there nothing we can do ? Speak, man, cannot you help me ; she is my wife, mine only a day, and to die ! Oh, it is too horrible I " }k -^ CHAPTER XV. -^ S Paul's frantic speecli endecl, the sound of horse's hoofs in a different direction was heard. With a fervent "thank Heaven!'^ Paul looked towards the rapidly ap- proaching lights. A gentleman hastily jumped out of a low cliaise and advanced, followed by the coachman, who was looking ill now with the pain in his arm. The light from the cabman's lamp shone on the anxious group, and lighted up the noble face of the new comer — a young man with his hair prematurely white, and a heavy drooping moustache that shaded a mouth as sweet as a woman's. It was a fine face, with strength and gentleness combined. He took in the situation at a glance, and throwing down a rug, he made Paul lay Jean fuU-lengtli upon it; after this he bathed her forehead and poured some cordial between her lips. With a shuddering sigh, as though loth to be called back from the border of the shadow-land to which her young soul had drifted, the first sight that attracted her opening eyes was the kind uncommon face of the strange doctor. It made a great impression upon her, for by instiuct her heart at one elected him for a chosen friend. So gentle, so sweetly compassionate and patient was he, even in the painful operation of splinting* her slender ankle, from which the dainty boot and pearly silk hose had been cut to give her ease, and as Paul had got dizzy with pain and anxiety, the doctor lifted Jean in his strong arms, and held her so supported in the chaise that she rode easily. Paul sat opposite, pale, weary, dispirited, while they drove slowly along the drenched road, leaving the -^ ^ BONNIE JEAN ; OB, THE TOWER OF LOVE. 03 group about the scone of the accident discupsing the event; the cabman had to take his fare back by another road, and found himself thinking much of the youn^- bride "who liad come to such misfortune on her weddin^-- day. " Tour wife must be got to bed at once, Mr. Martinet," said John Granger, gravely. " Dr. John," as the villagers called him, was turning over in his mind the very limited accommodation of his modest home. '' I suppose so. Is there a decent inn or hotel near ? " "Mrs. Martinet needs perfect quiet, complete roposc I fear it would be difficult to find either at any public resort, but if you will permit me, I shall be glad to shelter you both if you will be my guests. Mine is a very primitive bachelor household, but it will be better than an inn." "I am sure you are very generous, and 1 rnn exceedingly grateful and glad to avail myself of youi' kind offer; some day I may be able to return it. Doesn't it seem strange that my wife remains in- sensible ? " "No, not to me; she has suffered intense pain, and injured her head seriously, I fear. I shall be glad to see her in bed, we can then determine the extent of her injuries. I am glad the rain has ceased ; it has been a horrible storm; several accidents have happened — the clergyman of our parish dropped dead at the church- porch at my side, just as he had said ' Truly thn grandeur of the Creator's power is beyond compre- hension; look at the flame-clouds piercing the black expanse above. What infidel, in face of such Divine rage, dare raise a dissenting voice against the power that moves the world? Praise be to God, who doeth all thinks well ! ' Then he dropped at my feet, a blackened corpse. So the generous friend, the loving husband, and proud father fell, and I, a lonely, woi-ld-worn, trouble-wearied man, was left ; T who would gladly have given my life for his. " There was a break in the kind, strong voice, and Paul's hand went out involuntarily in sympathy. 94 BONNIE JEAN ; '• What a shock for you ! " "Ah, sir, some lives are made up of shocks. I thought an earthquake could not shake me^ yet the loss of my friend has made a baby of me/' After this they rode on in silence, and the moon crept out like a frightened vestal, the shrine of whose patron saint had been disturbed by warring discord. The damage to trees and gardens and homesteads was considerable" the storm-king had swept over all in gigantic disregard to injury, and like other warlike pro- cessions, his train was mai-ked by desolation and ruin. Peaceful meadows were flooded ; silver-clear rivers ran like molten lead ; trees and flowers fell faint and dying beneath the breath of the tempest ; frightened animals fled before the wind, like the dumb driven cattle they were ; roofs fell off, chimneys flew about as though favoured by witches' wings; and above this the calm moon, like a prude that glorifies self by the folly of her friends, smiled out broadly, serenely, as a mother smiles upon a child whose faults have received deserved cor- rection — tenderly, indulgently, and with a pretty pity. Jean still lay in the doctor's embrace, and her bride- groom felt a sudden unaccountable jealousy, that prompted him to say : " Give her to me ; she will tire you." " Not at all, she is a mere feather-weight ; it would be cruel to disturb her." And so she lay in his arms till the quiet little village was passed, and they stopped before a quaint, gabled house on the high-road, a grimy, grey- black stone building, that looked as if its owner had stolen it from some old cathedral city to enshrine it amid his own pastures as a holy retreat. At the gate stood a very tall and angular woman in the garb of poverty known as a workhouse dress : check shawl, blue dress", and a starched cap of most un- becoming stiffness. " So you have come at last, master ; I thought you had forgotten you had a home. Supper is cold, and there's not much of it. I hope you've not got company." s?- — ■■ — ^ ORj THE rOWER OF LOVE. 05 "Husli, Hagar ! some one liere is very sick^ my girl. Open the gate and give me your help. See^ I've two patients, and a third coming.''^ " It has been a foul nighty master." "It has, Hagar — a foul night, indeed; full of heart- breaking disasters.'^ While they spoke Jean had been kindly lifted out by Hagar, who seemed of herculean strength for all her Blimuess and slight, long hands; her eyes — fine, flashing dark eyes — took in every detail of the case. Weary, dispirited Paul saw in this meanly-attired woman a glorious picture of perfect womanhood; slim, tall, graceful, and not more than thirty-three. Paul followed them up the neat garden-path made of cnished shells, and into a bare hall scrubbed to the perfection of cleanliness; not a mat or a scrap of carpet covered the bare oak boards. They went into a room as bare as the hall, with stiff leather-covered furniture, and a table that looked, from its length and hardness, like a dissecting-board. The only thing of beauty in this strange room was the portraii; of a blooming flaxen-haired woman in bridal bravery that hung over the mantelpiece ; a woman with a passionate beautiful face, and a stalk of tall white lilies at her side. A scrupulous cleanliness and order prevailed in the place, which had a weird, fantastic, unhomelike look, very chilly and repellent to a stranger. Paul was reminded of a prison, a workhouse, and sat silent in the stout leather chair provided for him by Dr. Granger, who, with Hagar's help, had removed the bride to the only spare room the house afforded. Paul could hear them above, walking about what he could imagine was an equally bare room. Paul, who loved ease, luxury, and bright, rich tints, felt chilled and uncomfortable; his thoughts wandered to the cheerful pleasant rooms at The Bedford, and he wished most heartily that Ratanella had not crossed their path that day; but for her interference he felt 5=ure they would have been happily eating their supper together in quiet content. M CHAPTER XVI. OUR wife is very ill; will you come and speak to laer ? Hagar and I have made out' examination, and she is now composed and quiet, and I fancy she would like to see you. You see she is a mere child, nnused to suffering, and we are strange to her; you who love her can comfort her, and persuade her t<.) rest, and so regain her strength.^' Paul eagerly followed Dr. Granger from the room, up the painfully clean staircase, into a room with a deep bay-window full of flowers; a room devoid of all adorn- ments, but fresh and clean, with a wide, cosy white bed, rush-boLtomed chairs, and a terribly appalling picture of Martha and Mary over the high carved chimney-piece. Paul started at the sight of Jean, who lay propped up by pillows on the lavender-scented bed in a night-dress miles too big for her, with wide crimped frills that half hid her delicate hands, and stood up like an Elizabethan ruff round her slender neck. On her childish head Hagar had put a night-cap— such a night-cap ! Never, surely, did a bride present a more comical picture to her husband. But the cap, ugly as it was, hid still uglier bandages. Hagar stood grim and unbending by the bed, looking a protest against all such frivolities as bridegrooms and bridal-favours. At a glance from Dr. John, Hagar vacated her position, and Paul was left alone with his wife, who was now quite sensible, though very faint and ill, and wearily held out a soft white hand as Paul approached. He was so overcome by emotion, that he sank down on his knees beside her, and hiding his face in the bed-clothes, burst into tears, a thing he had not done since he saw his mother in her coffin. NOTICE.— This Work will te published every Wednesday. Orders should he given to yonr Bookseller early. A Coloured Picture given vyith the next Numher.j BONNIE JEAN. No. 5. NOTICE,— With this Number is Given Away a Coloured Picture for binding with the Worl(. 98 BONNIE JEAN ; Jean was upset, and tried to comfort Paul with winning words and the shy caresses of her soft tired hands. Paul caught them and kissed them tenderly, while he asked if she felt much pain, if there was anything he could do for her, if she would ever forgive him for taking her to that disastrous breakfast; to all of which she smiled and answered sweetly, though her breath came shortly, and her eyes drooped as though she were weary. Paul said every kind thing he could think of, and Jean's soft slow smile thanked him better than words. She even allowed him to pillow her head on his arm, and went to sleep so, and looked so sweetly innocent and childlike that Paul hoped he might always find her so docile, so childish, and full of confiding trust. She looked so young in her sleep, and there was such a troubled curve about the rich red arch of her lips, that Paul stooped and kissed them tenderly, and felt well rewarded when she nestled closer, smiling in her sleep. Somehow she seemed to creep into his heart in her hour of need more than she had done in her brightest, bonniest moments. Had all been well with them they would have come together from that night, and all the worst troubles of their lives been avoided. But Jeannie slept, and said no word to her husband, and he soon was called away to have his head bandaged, and eat supper with his new friend. Paul was agreeably surprised to find that the table did not share the dearth of luxury that marked the rest of the house ; a well-spread table, good wine, and well- cooked delicate food awaited him ; and Dr. John proved a pleasant host, well read, and full of witty remarks, though every now and again his fine face would gloom at thought of the good friend taken from him so suddenly. So when supper was over he excused him- self, and lighting a big black pipe, hastened off to tho vicarage to condole with his dear friends, take the con- trol of things in his strong helpful hands, and relieve the widow of all worry. ^ OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 99 Paul found tlie time drag liorribly wliile lie was goue^ aud was glad to go into the garden to smoke a medita- tive pipe. After the rain, everything seemed fresh and sweet, the moon rose resplendent in silver glory, and the trim garden became a fairy scene in its refining light. Paul leant on the gate and thought bitterly of the misfortunes of the day, till the peaceful scene brought a more tranquil mood, and turned his thoughts to Jeannie, who had been the most unlucky of the party. He smiled to himself as he recalled the quaint little form in its huge frilled cap and night-dress, and thought it was not as his little bride had meant to appear before him on their bridal-night ; he could imagine the dainty white garments of soft linen and snowy lace that Eliza would have laid ready for the young wife. Then he thought he would walk to the nearest post-office and send a telegram, also letters of advice to Brighton, for he could not hope to move his young wife there yet. He en- quired the way of Hagar, who advised him to postpone his journey till the doctor's return, in case Jean should need him; but Paul had a restless fit on, and would not be dissuaded, so he waded through the mud to the little town and posted his letters. After doing so, feeling a little tired, he went into the bar of an hotel and ordered a small bottle of wine, and looked at the evening paper. He kept his hat over his scarred forehead, and puffed away at a big cigar with something nearer content than he had know since the accident. Some young fellows were disputing near him; one contended that Lord Brent was a fine fellow, plucky enough to confound a whole constitution, &c. He listened inattentively; he did not interest himself in politics. The night was very fine, and the moonlight came in at the open door, which faced the little room where he sat. With his hands deep in his pockets and a discontented frown on his handsome face, he heartily wished some friend were near to play a game of billiards with him ; his long legs stretched out indolently, his eyes half closed, he looked a queer bridegroom. 100 BONNIE JEAN ; Just as everything about liim became indistinct^ and a drowsy sense of repose stole upon him, a carriage drew noisily up to the door, and champagne was demanded by a voice he knew. He started up with disgust : here were the very people he was most anxious to avoid, the people who had spoilt his wedding-day. He hoped he would be able to avoid them, but to his disgust, Merrick got out and entered the room where he sat; the gas was turned up and flared in Paul's face, and the manager started back in amazement : " By all that's uncanny, man," exclaimed Merrick, quickly recovering from his astonishment, " why are you skulking here on your wedding night ? Have you deserted your bride ? By Jove ! don't look so savage, man ; what's the matter ? " Paul briefly acquainted him with what had happened, and then was dragged out to recount the adventure to the others. All merriment ceased ; the rector, good Mr. Brassy, bounded out of the carriage like an indiarubber ball. Satanella turned white as death, her great eyes glittering evilly as she whispered, while her slim, soft fingers grasped Paul's wrist : '' Will she die ? Is there danger ? " He shrank from her with disgust ; there was such an eager, expectant light in her eyes. " God forbid ! poor girl ; I hope she will soon be well. Ours is an unlucky wedding-day, thanks to our dear friends' fondness for our society." " You reproach me for this unforseen adventure — yet why should you not ? I entreated of heaven that yours should not be a peaceful wedding." "You entreated! Remember, Satanella, there is an old and homely saying which tells us ' Curses, like chickens, come home to roost ' ; the evil you desire for my poor little wife may revert to yourself." He wrenched his hand free with a look of loathing which cut Mabel to the heart, and intensified her hatred of Jean tenfold. 1 s^ OR^ THE POWER OP LOVE. 101 Paul shuddered a3 she said aloud that the others might hear : " Mr. Merrick, kindly enquire if I can have apart- ments here. I feel tired and anxious about our good friend Paul ; Sophy and I will remain till to-morrow. I must see the poor little bride. It is so sad. I feel terribly upset." Paul set his teeth hard, then controlling his voice, bade Miss Mansie not to trouble on Jean's account or his, declaring it impossible for her to be of use to them. Satanella, who was arranging all with Mr. Merrick, smiled serenely, saying in her sweetest tone : " What, would you disdain sweet sympathy ? '' Paul's heart sank ; he did indeed disdain sympathy in such serpent-like guise as Satanella, but he feared to annoy her by further opposition, knowing only too well the ominous fire-fly flash of her eyes that spoke of a smouldering passion. She was quite capable of making a scene before Jean's friends — aye, even of exposing her own evil nature^ and proclaiming him her recreant lover. Paul, manlike, gave in ; fate, in the shape of Satanella, was too much for him. Amid the amazed whispers, the sympathetic condolence, he heard her low, level voice bidding Merrick order supper for all, that the horses might rest, and the party recover from the shock of hearing about the accident. Paul gave in gracefully when he found he could do nothing else, and in spite of his fear of Satanella, he felt relieved by a chat with kind Mr. Brassy and cheerful, hopeful Violet, who declared it her intention to walk back with him to hear about, and, if it were allowable, to see Jean that night. He thought it would comfort his poor little woman to see so old and dear a friend, and so he consented, walk- ing with the daintily-attired damsel through the muddy roads, and smiling a little when her father, in careful economy, lifted her skirts higher, regardless of the display of pretty ankles and shapely feet he treated his companion to. r ^ 102 BONNIE JEAN ; While Paul hastened back to Jean, Satanella and her friends regaled themselves at supper, toasting the absent friends, and making merry to their hearts' con- tent over the bridegroom's disappointment. Satanella was vexed about the delay that would keep Paul from Brighton. " He must not miss the races," she thought; ''should he ward off the gambling fever that is the only weakness through which I may be able to reach him. He shall not reform into a model husband, he shall not shake off the old glamourie for the sake of a girl's fair face. Bitterly, bitterly shall she rue the day when her money tempted him from my side. But she has bought the empty shell alone ; I, and I only, can find and keep the fruit. His heart must not be softened by her suffering ; he must be tempted, lured to my side again ; once more in my power, and he is mine for ever. He looked as though he were learning to hate me to-day, but the look only meant fear of me ; I must believe that, or I should go mad." These evil thoughts did not shadow the brightness of Satanella's beauty. Sir Duke was full of hope; his darling had deigned to be unusually affable to him during the day ; he even dared to sit beside her and smooth her soft, chill hand in his, and when no one was looking, carried the tips of her pretty fingers to his hot lips. Oh, how he loved this enchantress, this siren with songs to suit everyone ; how sincerely he believed in the power of his great love to win responsive tenderness from her ! There was something pitiful in the grand humility, the hope, the manliness of his affection, yet she thought no more of him than of the ground beneath her feet, or the stars that shone so high above her. All her heart went out wrathfully to Paul, who, plodding along by Violet Brassy's side, looked up to the tranquil sky with prayerful eyes, entreating mutely in the depth of his heart that Heaven would give him strength to be true to Jean, in spite of himself and Satanella; and in his heart, like a tiny stream that ripples away to the great, grand ocean, there kept leaping and dancing ^ — 5^ OR^ THE POWER OP LOVE. 103 within him an ever-widening stream of tenderness for the generous girl- wife who had given her all, asking nothing in return ; and he told himself manfully : ' " I will be good to her, I will guard her against all evil, my lily-souled love, my little innocent child-wife ! " And while he walked by Violet Brassy's side, listening to stories of Jean's quiet childhood, and the peaceful purity of her home-life at Deepdane, Jean had awakened m loneliness and pain, and sobbed in the silence of her bedchamber, watched over by the grim, ungentle care of Hagar, who paced the room noiselessly, with arms folded across her burning heart, and haggard eyes that watched with crushed-down passion for the appearance of her master. •*»rj»qra CHAPTER XVII. -^ RE you awake, Jeannie ? " Paul's voice softly broke upon tke silent room. Jean eagerly looked at tke tall figure looming above lier, and said wearily : " Yes ; I am glad you have come back, I felt so lonely."' " Poor little girl ! you sliall not feel lonely again. I have come to watch witli you till dayliglit. Mr. Brassy and Violet are downstairs, dear ; do you tliink you feel equal to seeing them ? " " Certainly not, Mr. Martinet ; I cannot allow my patient to excite herself further to-night.-" It was Dr. Granger who spoke, coming quietly to the bedside. Ha gar crept away at sight of him. Paul shrugged his huge shoulders, and suggested that Dr. Granger should inform Jean's friends of his ungracious decision. Dr. John smiled, and left the room to do as Paul said. In the bare, ugly parlour Vi sat in her bridesmaid's finery, her rosy face puckered up in perplexed thought ; beside her, contrasting strangely in her sombre grim appearance, stood Hagar. Violet and Mr. Brassy had been questioning her about Jean. The lamplight shone on the bare polished table, the bare walls, and stiff unlovely surroundings. As Dr. Granger entered, Mr. Brassy rose, and said regretfully : " This is a bad business. Dr. Granger, so very unlucky happening upon a wedding-day. How is the poor girl?" '' Doing as Avell as one could hope, but unfit to receive even her nearest and dearest friends." -^ Sf liUNNlE JEAN; UKj THE TOWEK OF LOVE. 105 " Oil, I am so sorry ! " said Yi in a tearful voice. Dr. John turned his fine eyes upon her fair open face. Hagar's dark glance went swiftly from one to the other, as though eager to mark the impression Vi made upon her master. Her face hardened us she saw, by his bright smile, that he approved of the young lady's appearance; indeed, who would not approve of a fresh bright English maiden, who was innocent of pride, affectation, or vanity ? Vi never forgot her first impression of John Granger. He personified her ideas of all that was manly, master- ful, and uncommon ; something about his expression told her he had lived his life, a man with a history at variance with his present surroundings. Paul came down before they left, and walked by the rector's side down the narrow garden path, followed by Vi and Dr. John. Vi paused by a rose-bush, where one solitary pale rose bloomed. '' What a lovely rose ! may I gather it. Dr. Granger ? " ''No ; I will pluck it for you, in case the thorns prick your fingers. It is a bonnie blossom ; like the sweetest of women, it is set round by wilful thorns to keep one at a distance." Dr. John gave her the flower with a smile that made him look quite young and handsome, and watched her while she fixed it at her smooth fair throat. Hagar, cutting some lettuce for supper behind a hedge of sweetbriar, saw the pretty scene, and her face changed with a look of intolerable suffering. " Is it coming at last, that which I have dreaded so long ? Is he going to enshrine another in the empty niche in his heart ? Oh, how shall I bear it ? why did God give me back my reason to endure such torment ? Oh, how I hope that girl will take her winsome woman- hood out of his, path before I hate her, as I did that other. But what have I to do with love, with passion ? What is this consuming fire that is perpetually burning into my heart and brain — is it love, or madness ? What am I but a poor castaway, who has done with sweet 106 BONNIE JEAN; womanly ways ? All me ! yet I live, and am not old or dead." , -, i ^^ ,i Hagar hid her face in lier hands, knoelmg on the damp earth in the moonlight, like one stricken with sudden and mortal fear. Dr. John, coming back that way, found her so, and put his hands out to help her up. "Hagar, are you ill or mad, to kneel there m the wet?" ''Neither, master. Oh, do not touch me, 1 cannot bear it." . , , , She staggered blindly to her feet, turnmg a blank scared face to him in the moonlight. ^ -r. t i. > A tender compassionate look crept into Dr. John s eyes at sight of that appealing look, and putting out his hand, he said, as he laid it upon hers : , en. n t '' Hagar, is the old restless mood upon you ? Shall I make you up some medicine ? " " No, no ; I am all right. It is only the old pam in my heart." . She pulled herself together with an effort, and went hastily towards the house, forgetting the salad. . Dr. John picked up the crisp, damp vegetables and took them into the house. In the clean, neat brick kitchen he found Hagar seated by the table, her face hidden on her hands, her whole body convulsed by sobs. A look of divine compassion crept into the doctor's eyes, but he went away noiselessly, making no sign; only when he was in the open air again he brushed the hair off his forehead, as if it hurt him, and said under his breath : , " The old sorrow, the old, old pam. Why do not our hearts grow old? Why must one bear a burden all one's days? I hoped she was learning to forget; yet why should I hope that for her which I find impossible to myself ? I wonder where the bridegroom is. Gone to his poor little wife, I suppose. I wonder if theirs was a love-match. Ah, even love means misery sometimes, but I trust not in this case." W : .-___ ..5^ ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 107 Paul Lad orepfc quietly up iuto tlie bed-cliambei' wliero Jean lay tossing her head from side to side, and biting her lip to silence all expression of pain. The pretty tumbled head and flushed face looked very fair and childlike to Paul, as he linked up the sleeve of her nightdress that had fallen over her hand ; such a pretty plump little arm it was, white as snow, and soft as thistledown. Paul put his lips to it tenderly. " I wish you were well, wee wife, and that we were watching the moonlight from the pier at Brighton." " I wish so, too, Paul. It is very hard for you to be so disappointed, and you know you do not often have a holiday; Mr. Merrick told me so. You had better go to-morrow, and come back for me when I am better," " What, leave you here among strangers ? No, my pet, I'm not quite a brute, I hope, and it would be a queer honeymoon without one's wife. We will wait together, my pet, and directly you can be moved we'll go. I have sent for Eliza to come at once to nurse you, and I shall not leave you until I am compelled. Hark ! Who is that ? Satanella, by all that's abominable 1 What can she want here to-night ? " " Oh, please send her away. She will never leave you to me, Paul. Oh, tell me, do you love her very, very much ? Can't you give her up for my sake ? " Jean had thrown her arms round Paul's neck, and clung to him despairingly. His face paled as he said, almost sternly : '' Child, child, can't you trust your own husband ? There, there, do not cry, pet, or the doctor will not let me see you.- I will send her away at once." " Oh, but you won't go with her. She will make you hate me, Paul ! " "Make me hate you, my own dear little wife? Impossible ! By contrast she would teach me to love you even better than I do." Paul put her gently back among the pillows. All the Avild-rose bloom had faded from her face, leaving her white as death, with an agony of fear in her sweet eyes Bad to see. ¥t- CHAPTER XYIII. EAN lay in Paul's arms, and listened to the sound of Satanella's clear high voice as sho said to Dr. Granger : " You will pardon my intruding upon you so late, I trust. Dr. Granger, but really I could not rest. I was so anxious to hear for myself how the poor little bride progressed. Could I see Mr. Martinet for a few moments ? I want to speak to him upon a matter of business important to him." Jean heard Dr. John's courteous reply, and the frou- frou of Satanella's costly garments as she entered the house. The moonlight gleamed at the window, and the sky showed bright and clear, gemmed with gloriously- glittering stars. Jean relaxed her hold of Paul with a profound sigh as she heard Dr. John's firm tread on the landing. '' I will not see her if you do not wish it, dear. Why should I ? She is nothing to me, while you are my SAveet wee wife." Jean's eyes sought his with a keen glance of enquiry, but she said softly : " Go, Paul ; it would seem strange to avoid her, and perhaps she means kindly, though I can't trust her." Paul sighed, for in fact neither could he, and he dreaded the interview with a strange shai'p repugnance but he obeyed Dr. John's summons, and left him with . Jean while he went down to the dimly-lighted sitting- room. Paul found Mabel standing by the open window with two dewy roses in her hand. She was strangely pale, and her great eyes glittered with a wicked light as she turned with a mocking smile to him, saying : '' Ah, moil ami ! I did not expect to see you so soon again, but I wanted to know for myself what are 5!^- ^ BONNIE JEAN ; OR; THE TOWER OF LOVE. 109 tlie chances of your being made a widower in your honeymoon. Will the girl die and leave you free and rich ? Your lucky star will be in the ascendant if sho does die." "Hush! for pity's sake, Mabel, do not make your- self out worse than you are ! How horribly you talk ! I am sure in your heart you would be the last to wish ill of that innocent girl. I only wish I could bear her suffering for her; it cuts me to the heart to see her in such pain." Mabel came closer and locked her white hands upon his arm as she looked up into his face with deep adoring eyes, and whispered in low impassioned tones : " You have no pity for me, and my pain is more terrible to bear than a physical hurt; my heart is torn with jealous despairing love for you, and you preach to me compassion for the girl w^ho has brought this misery upon me ; you are mad, knowing me, to incense me so. Say something kind to me and kiss me, Paul, for I am so wretched, so desperate, I feel as if there is nothing under heaven I could not do to be as I once was — your nearest and dearest." She lifted her face to his, a passionate, desperate, beautiful face, aglow with love and distress. Paul shrank away as though a serpent had stung him, and his voice was harsh and full of agony as he said : " Don't tempt mo with your bewitching wiles, Mab ; surely I have suffered enough at your hands. You cannot cast your glamourie about me again ; I will not bear it — it is beyond endurance. Do you think a man is a puny puppet to be pulled here, there, and every- where as your caprice may dictate ? Surely I have suffered enough. The full measure of my punishment has passed ; I have put you out of my heart and life. I want to start afresh, unfettered by such madness as your beauty once bred in me. Do not come between me and the light ; let me go on in honesty and simple-mindedness. If you are miserable, it is a misery of your own seeking. I gave you the chance of choosing between love and riches ; you preferred wealth to work and honesty with me. I did my level best, no man could do more. But Ik -^ 110 BONNIE JEAN; I will not be the victim of your jealous fury, and I will stand between my wife and all harm, God helping me ! Go away from here, leave me to find peace in my own way ; you have poisoned the best years of my life, I am determined to be free now. You must let me see you back to the hotel. What will Sir Duke think of this stupid show of interest in another woman's husband ? " " What do I care for Duke's thoughts or your cruel taunts. You love me ; I know it, I can see it in your face, hear it in your voice. I did all for the best. Marriage was the only lift either of us could hope for. I did not want to cripple you— my love is less selfish than yours — but I will keep my place in your heart and life. Another woman's husband you may be, but at heart you will be my lover till you die. In this new penitent mood you may shake me off, lop off the greenest limb in your tree of life if you will, it will shoot forth again fresher, greener, brighter than ever ; be cruel to me if you will, make me suffer for the sin in yourself, but what will you gain ? " '' Self-respect, the love of a pure womau^ fresh interest in life, and a hope of heaven." " Ah, and weigh all those against the power of love, the rapture of requited passion, the glory of self-forget- fulness, the joy my beauty can give you, the triumph and happiness of my perfect love. Ah, Paul, we have not loved all these years without forging strong links to bind our lives together." " Mab, you will drive me mad. What can you want of me, what can you expect, seeing we have both broken the old bonds and formed new ties ? " '' I have broken no bonds or formed any ties that could tear you out of my life, my love, my darling ! Put your dear face to mine— ah, so, my king— I knew you could not be so cruel to me." Paul's head had drooped till it touched hers. Swift as thought her soft arms wove their witchery about hiui, her warm lips, dewy as a sun-kissed rose, clung to his in one long rapturous caress ; but soft, warm, thrilling as her tender passionate kiss was, it won no response from Paul. He seemed to shrink with shame at his own X ^- OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. HI weakness, a fehudder of horror shook liim, aud utterly wretched and despairing, overwrought by the excite- ment of the day, great heart-rending sobs shook the strong frame, and a manly heart lay bleeding, torn by the terrors of an evil love and a wicked woman's in- fluence. , . He felt out of spirits, disheartened, despairmg. Me had willingly saddled himself with his heavy yoke years before, and now feared the burden would crush out every hope, every joy in life, for he desired to do well, to live purely ; "but, against his desire, the power of a woman's witchery, a woman's reckless love, warred with mighty strength against which he had no weapon to defend himself, since his heart fought with his brain, his desire against his conscience. Yet Jean's power was mighty to save ; her love was a living stream of purest truth, capable of washing his life white, and weaving a strong armour against sin. But Paul was not sure of his wife's love, and his heart was hungry for affection. He fancied Jean a child, a spotless, pure-mmded maiden, who had never awakened to the full harmony of life and love, who had not yet struck the key-note of a master passion. Yet he longed to be worthy of her sweet companionship, her beautiful trust and faith. " She shall not find me wanting if ever she need my care," he said aloud. Mabel frowned impatiently. Her slave had indeed turned restive under her strong hand, since he could thus repel her. " Paul, what ails you ? " she asked tenderly, for she was shocked beyond expression by his tears— tears mean so much in a man. " Need you ask what troubles me, Mab ? Are you not trying me beyond my strength ? Why will you not leave me to live my own life in my own way ? Had you not interfered to-day, my poor Jean would not have met with this injury, we should have been at Brighton now." ,. 1 J Mabel frowned and bit her lip, then answered vindictively : JSr 112 BONNIE jean; " I am glad I did stop your pretty trip ; I did not relish the idea of your playing Romeo to Jean^s Jxiliet. What should I have done while you were spooning there ? You seem to think I am made of stone. Tell me, when do you intend to start ? Of course you must go. I will meet you at Brighton — or we might travel together; you have not forgotten in your new-found bliss that you promised your help at the benefit ? '' " 'Ko, I have not forgotten ; I shall run down just for the night.^' " What ! and miss the races— and I hear you have made a book ? " " You hear too much," said Paul in a displeased tone, as he threw himself in a chair and looked out moodily upon the peaceful scene. "Had I not better see you back, Mab ? '' "You are in a hurry to get rid of me, I think." " Can you wonder at it if I am ? What can Jean think of me to be away from her at such a time ? " " Jean does not enter into my calculations, Paul ; she is but a silly child, who has had the very good taste to select you as a bridegroom. So far, by rendering you independent, she has been of use to you; how long her usefulness will continue remains to be seen. A wife is a respectable thing to be possessed of, a sort of guar- antee of respectability and steadiness, but a man is a fool to let a wife shut him out from the society of old friends, of former helpers." ... . .. .„ " Yet if I had been your husband, ma belle, you would have held other opinions. Here comes the doctor. Now I must insist that you go back to Duke like a sensible girl ; I shall have him calling me out." " You need not be afraid of Duke ; he is too sensible to assert his authority till he is sure he possesses some. I admire this new friend of yours ; he looks a fine fellow. But tell me, when shall I see you again ? It must be soon ; and your Brighton appointment cannot be postponed on any pretext." Dr. John came in as she finished, and said he should be glad if Paul would go to his wife, as she had been asking for him, and seemed feverish and restless. -^ OB, THE POWER OP LOVE. 113 He very courteously offered to escort Miss Mansie Lack to her hotel ; but just then the forms of two men loomed in the distance, and Mabel said with a light laugh : " Ah, here are Sir Duke and Mr. Merrick. Paul, speak to your wife, and return to supper with us." " Do not ask me, Miss Mansie ; nothing could make me leave my wife to-night." Mabel laughed lightly, and went out to meet her lover. His fine face was troubled evidently ; he was vexed with his lady-love's caprices, for he said coldly, as he wrapped her mantle about her shapely shoulders : " You are very foolish to risk your health ; 'tis cold, and the dew is falling. Miss Brassy could have given you all the information you needed, if you had only waited." " But it did not suit me to wait, so I came, and I enjoyed the walk immensely." " Because I was not with you, I suppose ? " whispered Duke. " Why certainly ; you are getting quite shrewd. We will not detain Paul, his wife wants him." "May she long continue in the same mood, lady mine, if only to keep you out of temptation," thought Duke drearily, as he paced the garden-path, while Mabel made her gushing adieux to Dr. John and Paul. Mr. Merrick's eyes twinkled mischievously as he saw Paul's miserable face and Duke's dreary smile, and he said to himself : ''Satanella makes it pretty warm for her adorers. What a vixen she is! 1 pity Paul, for he is in her power." Poor Jean lay looking out on the bright sky with sad appealing eyes, that seemed to entreat protection from the all-seeing Power above. When Paul returned, he found her still wide awake, and with a gentle caress, told her she must try to rest. Nestling close to him, she said timidly : " Will Miss Mansie come here often, Paul ^ " ^- — ' ^ * ^ 114 BONNIE JEAN; OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. " No, my dear child — wliy should slie ? If it annoys you she shall not come again. Naturally, she felt anxious to know how you got on. I don't think you quite approve of her, do you ? " " No, I do not ; it is a case of Dr. Fell, I fancy, for I do not know why I should not like her — most people do; she is very beautiful and charming, but I fancy she is better appreciated by the men than the women. Is she good, Paul ? '^ Jean's innocent honest eyes were uplifted to Paul's troubled face. He looked uncomfortable ; what could he say to this childish creature, who knew only of evil by instinct of self-preservation ? Yet he could not speak ill of the woman he had loved so long, badly as he thought of her, so he merely smoothed Jean's brown hair from her childish brow and said : " Certainly she is not good in the sense that you are, you white-souled little sorceress, but she is good- natured, loyal, and free from affectation : things to be hio-hly approved in one that has led the life she has. Do not trouble your pretty head about her, but get to sleep, and let me see cheeks less wan, and lips that can smile on me to-morrow." But when Jean slept that night, it was to dream a dream of misery in which she imagined herself floating in a deep clear lake; above her, a dead weight, pressing her down into unknown depths, was a wide white water-lily with the face of Satanella, and the heavy leaves that entangled her like a net seemed to be the costly bejewelled garments of her rival, and all above and about her whispering voices murmured mockingly : " Kill her, kill her, and take her place in the home of the man who loves you." ik- '^- CHAPTER XIX. WEEK had passed, miserab]^ enougli to Jean. Paul had gone to Brighton to take his part in the performance that was to benefit the widow of his dead friend. Jean's heart sank ominously. Satanella had driven from town to fetch him, and Jean could hear her silvery mocking laugh as they drove away, Sir Duke occupied with his horses. The summer sunshine streamed in upon Jean's white face as she turned to the wall to hide the tears that dimmed the brightness of her hazel eyes. Hagar was in the room, and she watched the changing face of the young wile with keen scrutiny. She waited till Jean turned her face to the liglit again, then she said, sitting down on the bed and twisting the check duster she held into a rope : " So you're jealous. Don't speak, I see it in your eyes. Listen to me. Jealousy is the cruellest self- torture, a torment common to us all, and in some it amounts almost to madness. " I could tell you a story of two ruined lives, a story that would warn you to keep a check Upon yourself, but to tell you this I should lay bare the secret of a life now desolate." " It is your own story, Hagar; tell it me, I entreat ; it will ease your heart, and divert me from my foolish brooding." Hagar turned her haggard face to Jean, who was struck by its pallor. Hagar shuddered as she said, in a voice hoarse with emotion : " Ten years ago I Avas a bright bonnie woman with but one trouble in the world, and that a hopeless ■^ ^ 116 BONNIE JEAN ; love for my cousin, John Granger, who in his early youth had imagined he entertained an equal love for me ; we were engaged, and for a time all went well ; then John went to London, and fell passionately in love with a public singer. He tried to be true to me, and wished to keep his engagement, but I could not be con- tent with such half-hearted affection, so I gave him his freedom, and my father dying about the same time left me utterly alone. " I left the quiet country vicarage, where I had lived all my life, and went to Salisbury, entered a training- school for nurses, and in time, became qualified to per- form the duties of attending the sick. During a professional visit to London, I met John again. He was gentle, kind, brotherly, and we resumed the old friendly intercourse that had existed in childhood, and I believe he quite forgot the mad love-making that had lent such a transient glory to my lonely life. He took me to his pretty home, and introduced me to his young wife — a beautiful, cbildish creature, full of fond jealous love for her adoring husband. I soon saw that she was suspicious and jealous to a degree. This troubled me, for I knew John deserved the most generous trust. I saw breakers ahead for them if this fault in her was not corrected. John's love blinded him to this littleness in his darling, and he showed the most perfect patience with all her moods. " I never saw a more devoted pair ; the sight of their perfect happiness reconciled me to my own lonely life. The only gleam of warmth and brightness I had was reflected from the light of theirs ; they made me their friend and confidante in all things, and I always found a welcome at their home. " After a time trouble came. John caught a malig- nant fever. I was sent for to nurse him, his poor young wife being too prostrate to be of use. John re- covered, and declared he owed his life to me. " One bright spring morning, during his convalesence, when I had made him cosy among his pillows in a sunny window, he thanked me in earnest manly words for what he called my goodness and devotion to him ; ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 117 he also said how exceedingly he regretted laying waste my life by his inconstancy, spoke bitterly of the boyish passion that had led him to do the great in- justice of binding me to him, spoke also in bitter self- reproach of the fickleness of the human heart, said ho had never been worthy of my love, begged for my forgiveness, gave me a cousinly caress, and avowed himself my lifelong friend. " I was startled by the sound of a smothered sob in the next room, and hastened there to find John's wife insensible. She had heard all. When she recovered, there was a stormy scene between us, and she accused me most cruelly of winning her husband's love, of other and graver faults, and incensed me to such a degree that I left the house at once, vowing never to set foot in it again. I went to a nurses' home, and for some time heard nothing of cither my cousin or hm wife. "One day I met him accidentally in the Pemplo Gardens, and he made me go to tea with him at a neighbouring restaurant; said his little wife had treated him to some ridiculous scenes on my account, but put her evil moods down to her condition, which just then was one that appealed to all consideration. A few months later he sent me an urgent appeal to come to him in his trouble ; his poor little wife was not expected to live, and believing greatly in my skill as a nurse, he sent for me. I went at once, everything forgotten 'but John's trouble and his need of me. " After a time the poor girl recovered, but it was a tedious sickness, and John's care and love were wonderful to see. Their child died ; it had always been a little weakling, and yet when it was gone, its mother grieved over its loss as only a mother can. " In vain we tried to console her ; she sullenly refused comfort till poor John was worn out with useless concern. He feared the illness had affected his wife's brain, and would not allow me to leave her, saying he could not trust her in strange hands ; so some time passed, and we began to hope that she was better. But she had altered strangely ; she no longer met her -m 118 BONNIE JEAN liusLand with loving words and kind caresses; and he grew haggard and ill with misery. " One day he quite broke down, wept like a child ; and, forgetting all but my great love and his need for comfort, I knelt down beside him and poured out a passionate avowal of love and compassion. I think I went mad then ; forgot my womanhood, my self-respect, even my religion. What I said I know not, but John was shocked beyond power of expression ; he tried to comfort me, to reason with and win me back to my own sober senses, but I was not myself, I seemed possessed by a legion of fiends ; all the violence, all the suppressed power and passion of years of false calm were broken down, love leapt triumphantly from the bonds of prudence, and I stood and declared I was a madly- loving, miserable woman." For a moment Hagar seemed too agitated to proceed with her story, then meeting Jean's compassionate glance, she sighed, and continued : " John succeeded in soothing me at last, spoke ten- derly to me of my beautiful childhood, of my dear dead father, of the mother who had left me so long before ; and I saw myself as I really was, a woman who had pride and sense enough to despise herself. I told John I must leave at once ; I felt I could not face his wife, now that he knew how insanely I still cherished my hopeless love. I was humbled to the dust. I had but one excuse, and that was that he had once given me the right to love him, that he had been my lover long before he had known his wife. He said he was grieved for me, and regretted his part in my life's sorrow. " That night I left, and the next day I was horrified to hear my cousin's wife had committed suicide. '' I went at once to him, to find him distracted by grief. He reviled me madly, said I was the cause of his poor wife's death. " I bore all in silence. He described her death in harrowing details ; it seemed she had accused him of caring for me, of forgetting his vows to her, of want of faith. He had assured her of his undying love for her; had humbled himself to entreat her belief, her trust ; ^- -^ OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 119 had spoken to her of our old betrothal, aud how he had deserted me for her, and explained all that needed explanation, but she had been sullenly incredulous, and ended bj taking an over-dose of sleeping draught, and dying asleep in his arms. It seemed by a letter she had left that she had long suspected us, and determined to make away with herself. There was an inquest, but little scandal, for it was known that the illness that she suffered from affected the brain. '' Dr. John sold his practice and went abroad. I had a dreadful illness: brain-fever, that left my mind so enfeebled that I was unfit for my usual duties, and sank lower, and having no income fell into fearful poverty; I was too proud to appeal to old friends, and so wretched that I longed to die. Then again came illness. I was carried to a workhouse infirmary; they were kind to me there, so kind that they kept me to help harmless lunatics, and I slipped out of count as completely as if I had never existed. What followed is a blank till years later, when during a visit of inspection, John found me, took me home, and nursed me back to life and reason. " I never cast off my workhouse dress, or resumed my old position. I feel that this garb keeps me humble, and reminds me of the misery I brought upon my master. It is my happiness to work for him, to put myself beneath his feet, to be his humble friend, his devoted servant. My punishment is light considering how great was the evil I wrought in his life. I used to think the sight of me was repugnant to my cousin, and therefore I was glad to disguise myself in these ugly garments. He remembers me only as young, bright, bonnie, and surrounded by all that was beautiful; now you see ^yhat I have become, and can understand why I do not wish to recall the past. "You see how jealousy can canker the root of all happiness; do not let it ruin your hope of happiness. Trust your husband all in all, or not at all, and look well to your life that it may not drift into the shallows of suspicion and want of self-esteem." Jean clasped the hands of this poor outcast, a profound sympathy making speech impossible. -^ CHAPTER XX. jOW long you have been away, Paul. I thought you had forgotten me." " Forgotten my wife, fooHsh little soul ! Why, you have never been out of my thoughts. You see, I meant to come back at once, but there were such a lot of people I knew, and I was over-persuaded. The races were most enjoyable. I had a rare good time. Sir Duke potted a pile on Silversides. I wish you had been with us. I am longing to get you down by the sea ; the breeze will freshen you up splendidly, my lily-maid." " By-the-bye," he added, " how does Eliza get on with Hagar ? She quarrelled confoundedly with my .valet. They are not likely to let much love be lost between them, I can tell you. I am glad Dr. John managed to run down for those two days. A splendid fellow is Dr. John, but I have grave suspicions that he came to see that I was not going the pace too stiff. He is awfully fond of you, dear child. If I was not the most trusting of men I should be jealous." " To be jealous one must love, you know, Paul, and you have not had time to love me yet." "Have I not, my wee wise woman? We shall see. Time tries all. Here comes Hagar. By Jove, how glum she looks ! She is a deuced fine woman, if she did not make such a mummy of herself. But, there, I forgot you were sweet on that fantastic female. Don't look so severe ; it does not suit that rosebud of a mouth a bit. Bah ! Visitors again ! What a nuisance ! I thought I was going to have you all to myself for a while." Paul knocked out his pipe impatiently, and put it into his pocket, for he saw Satanella coming up the garden- path with Dr. John, and he knew a visit from her meant mischief of some sort. NOTICE.— This Work will be published every Wednesday. Bookseller early. Orders should be given to yonr -^ BONNIE JEAN. \^^ kj:^- :.^-.__ ) Mi ZTo. 6 122 BONNIE JEAN ; Jean's fair face fluslied up painfully as Miss Mansio entered^ briBging with her tlie scent of the roses. She looked superbly beautiful, and Jean felt her loveliness like a blow : how mean and miserable she must look beside such a queen among women ! Paul's greeting was stiff and constrained, and he looked more than annoyed when she said jokingly to Jean : " Ah, Mrs. Martinet, it is time you got about, to keep that bad boy of yours in order ; he went the pace fear- fully at Brighton, flirting, fighting, gaming. Ah, Paul, you may frown, but I promised to report you at head- quarters when you got me into hot water with Duke. A husband is an awful undertaking, yet I have come to ask you to a wedding. I am about to put my head in a yoke, and I want my friends to witness the perfor- mance." "Mrs. Martinet must not venture out for some time, Miss Mausie," said Dr. John ; " she is not half as well as she looks. I have been telling Mr. Martinet she will need his tenderest care for some time to come ; we want to get her away to the sea as soon as possible. I am afraid gaiety would disagree with her." " I assure you I don't look forward to the ceremony as a gay matter ; to put me into bondage will be like putting a butterfly in a bath. The whole affair will be quiet and take place at Brighton. Duke has taken a house on the Parade on purpose ; we mean to stay there a month, then go to Paris. I want patching up first, I fancy, and the air at Brighton agrees with me beauti- fully. Duke wants Mr. and Mrs. Martinet to stay with us ; it is such a large house, there will be plenty of room for us all to isolate ourselves at pleasure. By-the- bye, here is a letter for you from Duke, Paul. I am sure we shall be a pleasant ip^rtj, and I have set my heart upon your coming; I will not take a refusal." Paul took the letter rather ungraciously, and asking permission, opened it at once — as he did so a note in Satanella's bold square writing fluttered from Duke's letter to Jean's feet. She saw it and recognised the writing, could even see the bold signature. Sf- OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 123 Dr. Jolin picked it up and gave it to Paul in silence. Paul started, flushed, frowned, and after reading it crammed it into his pocket, while he read Duke^s brief scrawl. Jeau felt puzzled about the two letters. Why need Satanella write when she could speak to Paul. A little later, after much gay talk. Miss Mansie left, both Paul and Dr. John escorting her to the carriage. Directly she had gone Jean noticed a piece of paper lying not far from her. It was Satanella's note ; Paul had pulled it out with his handkerchief. Jean raised herself on her elbow and dragged it towards her with a stick she used in getting about. For a moment she held the paper unopened ; all honourable instinct was against her reading it, but all the Mother Eve in her whispered : " Read it ; you should know all that passes between them." There was no time to be lost ; she opened it with shaking fingers and read what seemed to burn into her brain like hot iron — these words : My Very Own Dakling, — I nmst write to ease my beart of its misery. Sir Duke's jealousy is aroused ; he insists upon my being his wife at once, or giving me up for ever. Tet after the joy of being loved by yon it seems torment to think of any other man as my husband. Oh, why did you make it impossible by jour marriage with that poor fool ? Paul, I must see yon alone to-night. Make some excuse to meet me at my hotel ; 3^011 dare not deny me. When that girl becomes more than a wife in name, I shall know what I ask is a sin, but as yet you are mine and mine only. — Your wicked little love, Satanella. Jean held this miserable effusion for a second before her, then crushing it up in her hand, cast it away from her as though it stung her, as indeed it did, to the heart's core. She lay in the sunlight like one stunned, the roses on her bosom rising and falling stormily. She felt as though all that was best in life had perished. Her heart ached, and her brain throbbed wretchedly; a mad passion of jealous resentment filled her soul to overflowing. »- -^ 124 BONNIE JEAN j Her first wish, was that death would end the strife. Never before had she realised how deai4y she hjved Paul. The treachery of his conduct appalled her. Surely, she thought, such wickedness had never been kno^Yn upon the earth before. Hot blushes of shame dyed her face as she thought how Paul had left her with her pure kisses on his lips to go straight to the arms of this siren — keenest pain blended with sense of injury. What had she done to deserve such cruelty ? If Paul had loved this wretched woman, why had he left her ? " Money ! " whispered her evil genius ; " money tliat Iniys up all things ! " The shame and misery of her situation shocked her. She dared not look ahead to a long lifo beside the man who had done her this surpassing wrong. For Satanella she felt the fiercest contempt. '^ A poor fool, am I ? They shall see I am not so weak and simple as I seem. I will fight them with their own weapons. I can keep a secret more cleverly than they. I can sec how glad this woman would bo io separate Paul and I, yet she shall see I can win hearts as well as she. He shall love me as much as he can love. Then my revenge will be sure, for I will scorn him as proudly as the best, and he shall know what it is to feel such a torment as tears n^y heart now ! " A second later Paul returned, saying as he entered : " Why, ma ijetite, you look quite rosy; Mab's visit has roused you a bit." " It has, indeed," said Jean, stifling a sigh. Paul sat down at the head of the sofa, and smoothed Jean's soft hair tenderly. She was glad he could not see her face for she felt sure it must express the pain she felt. She was anxious to know what excuse he would make to get away that evening, for she felt sure he meant to go. She wondered if he would miss the note, and felt half inclined to tax him with his infidelity, but maidenly shame and a little awe of her husband kept hor silent. OBj THE POWER OF LOVE. 125 After all, she was wife in name only; yet tlie vows made at God's altar she felt should have been a harrier between Paul and sin. '' How quiet you are, wee wifie. Are you tired ? Shall I get you some wine ? You must tnke all you can to get up your strength. I want to take you away to have you all to my own self ; I am getting jealous of your Dr. John, he is too masterful — takes you too much to himself." Jean shivered. She wished Paul would not affect an interest in her that she imagined he could not feel ; her heart was hot with anger as she felt him stoop to kiss the little bit of her white neck that the lace of her dressing- gown left uncovered. A few hours ago the touch of his lips would have stirred a rapture in her heart, his very presence had been to her an exquisite pleasure j now she felt changed, cold, unloving, repellent, for his caresses recalled the cruel thought of those he must have given to her rival. Paul little knew the agony of jealous love that made misery in his wee woman's heart or ho would have died rather than confirm her worst suspicions, as he did a little later, by saying : " I shall run up to town lo-nighr, pet, to see Merrick ; he wants me. It will be late when I leave him. I am sorry to go away, little wife, but I want to get all btisiness matters settled, so that when we go away wc can have a good time together ; ' the world forgotten by the world forgot ' sort of thing, you know." " If you are obliged to go to town, Paul, I wonder you did not go with Miss Mansie ; she would have been glad of your company." " Would she ? Well, that depends upon circum- stances ; besides, if I had gone 1 must have left you three hours sooner, and I was vain enough to fancy my society would be welcome to my wife." At any other time this pretty speech would have won a shy sweet smile and blush from Jean, but to-day sho seemed insensible to all his blandishments; and he, seeing her so changed, thought she was not so well, and suggested that she shotild go to her room ; but she shook ^- 126 BONNIE JEAN ; lier liead at that, and lie got a book to read to her. It was an old society paper, and knowing her to be fond of poetry, he picked out the first to hand because it had a pretty frontispiece that he could show her to fix hei' interest ; yet he was sorry ho had made such a selection when she fell into a passion of weeping that shook her delicate frame as stormy winds shake the young saplings. The verse that touched her sore heart was : Is it for this my life has weary grown, And yellow leaf instead of bloom appears ? For this that care upon my head has thrown The early snow, that tells of early tears ? Is it for this I feel so lonely now, Though he is ever near and at my side, To tempt me toward despair, and tell me how My days are narrowed, and the world so wide? The day is dearest when the day is dying, And sorrow sweetest if she's softly sighing Low to my heart, " Forget All that is past." Bat yet, Is it for this ? Paul, being a splendid actor, read with impapsioned power, turniiig the wcrds to fiie; they burned into Jean^s heart with a marvellous sensation of self-pity. Ah, was it for this she felt that she had given the best life has to give — love, joure and unsullied, a heart as fresh as the new-blown rose, with the dew of life's morning upon it ? Was it for this she had chosen him kiug of her heart, her lord, her master, her heart's dearest ? She felt she would give all the world to wake from this dreary dream-like pain, to find herself an innocent child again, free from the world's temptation, free from care or knowledge of life's stormiest lesson — love. Paul was puzzled by Jean's emotion ; Dr. John said it was an attack of hysteria, when he was consulted, and he only smiled as at the whim of a capricious child when Jean would not allow Paul to carry her up to her room as usual, preferring to nestle in Dr. John's strong arms instead. Paul felt hurt by her preference, but said nothing, only lingered longer over his farewell to her, and pro- mised a speedy return. OR^ THE POWER OF LOVE. 127 When he had gone out into the Yight of the ffraudiv her and through face in her pillow, Paul, striding along a field of golden and foil 1 tho corn. dying sun, Jean hid into bitter weeping ruddy sunlight thought sadly : "Poor pet! she is but a child; I must be patient with her; she shall be my first thought, my dearest care I must be stern with Satanella; I cannot let her spoil my life, or make my wee woman miserable 1 never thought Jean could touch my heart, chanr^o my hte, as she has done, little darling. It will be hlird if i can t teach her to love me— love begets love, and, by Jove ! 1 feel a better man by the mere fact of possessinrr such a jewel." ^ CHAPTER XXI. IhE bright sunliglit danced on the frolic- some sea round tlie West Pier at Brighton^ and reclining in a batli-cliair under a Luge umbrella sat Jean, lier bonnie face shaded _ by a large bat of soft cream lace and graceful feathers, a fleecy wrap of the same tint tucked cosily round her shoulders. At a little distance Paul sat reading the paper, and smoking his everlasting black pipe. He had just taken his little wife a new novel and a bunch of pale pink moss-roses, and she had accepted them with a cool little nod of thanks. She never spoke to him if she could avoid it, and he was unable to ace unt for the change in her; she used to be so sweetly gracious and gratetul for any attention, but since Satanella's visib to Dr. GranL-er'S; Jean had altered. At first Paul put the change down to ill-health, and was patient and tender with her every mood, but his attention seemed on'y to pain her, and so at last he felt it only kind to leave her in peace. He thought her constraint due to maidenly reserve, and felt p^^sitive she was afraid of him as a husband ; a poor, timid, modest little maiden, afraid of the power of her own beauty. So he told himself he must not shock her by any unseemly haste ; theirs had been a marriage^ of con- venience, and he must bide his time to win his bride's love; but the wooing was uphill work, sh^^ setaned so childishly insensible to his attentions, and day by day the breach widened until they seemed as far apart as the poles. A miserable state of things for both, and Jean so much in need of tenderness and sympathy. In spite of his an'i-er, Paul felt a growing regard and interest in BONNIE JEAN; OBj THE rOTNEE OF LOVE. 129 the sousie maideu avLo called liiiu husband^ yet kept herself as sacred from him as a holy vestal. Jean had at first refused to go to the house on the cliff that Sir Duke had prepared for his bride. She did not like the idea of accepting hospitality from the man who was so soon to make Satanella his wife, and Jean liked the kindly honest fellow, and felt grieved for him as for a brother ; it seemed so horrible to her that he should marry Satanella while she loved Paul and kept him still in bondage ; but the thought came that being Sir Duke's guest and seeing his love for his unworthy betrothed would be a barrier between Paul and a con- tinuance of evil intercourse. But somehow, in spite of her anxiety and the change in her condition, Jeau felt her life had fallen to a dead level, an nnprofitable state, barx-en of honour, peace, or hope; her heart Avas rapidly hardening. Yet in spite of pride and resentment, Jean knew she loved Paul with the best love of her life, and she despised herselrv/itb a passionate anger because she could not stifle the yearnmg of her heart. She was proud of his talent, his handsome lorks, and his courtly manner, proud of the in:erest he excited wherever he went. The jealous ache in her heart never ceased ; it gave a grave subdued sorrow to her looks, that gave her girlish features an added charm. Her great hazel eyes had a sombre haunting beauty, like deep clear lakes seen in the midnight splendour of a summer moon. Paul looking longingly at her in the snnlioht, saw the change in her fully for the first time; she no longer looked a bonnie, bright, merry, thoughtless chikl, but seetTK d to be a silent, self-contained, sorrowful woman. She had her gloves ofi: to do some pri tty womanly trifle of lace-work ; and the sun sparkled on her jewelled white hands — little slender tnt^wflakcs they looked. A longing came to Paul to gather them close in his and kiss them. He had a tender heart, and it grieved, him to see his wee wite keep him so far off. He knew she must feel lonely, and the barrier of reserve she had 130 BONNIE jean; set up seemed impossible to put down ; lie chafed under a sense of ever-increasing obligation; liis wife should have let bim repay her with love and faith. How would it all end ? he wondered, as he watched her and noticed with a pang how wan she had grown. "What if he should lose her? A sense of terrible desolation and fear seized him, that told him she was as dear to him as life. An impulse led him to her side ; she flushed up as he approached. No one was near ; the band was playing a dreamy waltz ; crowds of gaily- dressed people promenaded in an endless circle round it. Ah, both Paul and Jean realised how lonely one can be in a crowd ! Paul's firm white hand covered the hand that wore the symbol of wifehood, and he said tenderly : " Jean, do you think you feel better to-day, dear ? " " Yes, thanks ; much better.'* The tone was cold, though the lips quivered like those of a grieved child. " Jean, you look unhappy ; it cuts me to the heart to see you so changed. Tell me, is there anything I can do to make you happier, little wife ? Our lives are drifting far apart, like those two white wind-clouds, that lay closely entwined in the sun's warmth not a moment since. Why is it so ? "Won't you let me love you, darling ? We can't live like this always. Surely there will be some years of sweet companionship and sympathy for us ? Marriage is a dead-lock that shuts our stream of existence from the ever-flowing life about us. I want to be patient and tender to you, pet ; but I want your confidence and sympathy. I am lonely, little one — lonely as only one can be shut out from the only light that would really brighten and perfect his life." He bent over her, his eyes tenderly gloomed by emotion, his hands pressing hers so hard that they hurt her, and she gave a little exclamation of pain, at sound of which he released them, saying : " Forgive me, Jeannie ; I did not mean to hurt you. What a big brute I must seem to my little delicate blossom of a bride. Have you no crumb of comfort to fl.ing to the most miserable dog alive ? " OEj THE POWER OF LOVE. 131 He carried tlie little hand to liis lips, thou lield it iu liis, toying with the ring that sealed her as his own, and she could only look up with timid, entreating eyes; and whisper brokenly : " I am sorry if I make you unhappy. Does not joy or sorrow depend upon one's self — one's own life ?" "No— a thousand times no ; not if that life is bound up in another, and that other holds aloof in spite of love and love's best service. Jean, after Mab's wedding I shall take you home to Deepdaue ; alone there we may come together, and be truly man and wife ; ours is now a bitter mockery of marriage, and I for one cannot bear it. I must have you all in all, or not at all. I knoAv 1 could teach you to love me, dear, if you would let me ; life is not life without love. Hark what the band is playing—' Strangers Yet.-" Do you know the song ? " A sweet hope sprang up in Jean's heart that this was not acting, that he real y cared a lit le for her. A timid uif^ssaore v/ended its w ^y from her heart to her lips, then died there unuttered, for between her and the sun flashed the syren beauty of Satauella. Clad was she from head to foot in azure tints, like those of the sky above, and her hair, waving about her in flaxen abundance, reflected the sun's rays ; her saucy lips Avere smiling, her daintily-gloved hand was held out to Paul, and to Jean her looks seemed to say in their insolent sense of power : " I claim my slave." Jean did not see Paul's look of vexed disappointment, nor notice the mockmg laughter in his eyes as he greeted his tyrant. Jean fancied the net that encircled them as strong as that which Vulcan's jealousy forged about the false queen of love and her warrior lover. She did not know — how should she, poor, innocent, unv/orldly girl ?— that a man wearies of a bondage tl.at links him to dishonour; love must be pure, or it cannot last. A man must respect his beloved, or love has lost half its charm; to know a woman to be really wicked is to know her as something too low for a constant affection. 132 BONNIE JEAN ; While tliey exchanged merry greetings, a little toddling child strayed away from its nurse after a gaudy ball ; its tiny feet caught in Satanella's lace skirts, and it fell heavily. " What a horrid screaming thing ! " said the queen of the stage. " Poor mite ! " said Jean, " oh, I hope she is not hurt, such a dear little dimpled darling. Bring her to me, Paul." Paul picked her up tenderly, and carried her to Jean, who quieted her with kind words, soft, sweet kisses, and a big box of bonbons. " Let her stay with me ; she is no trouble. I love little children, Paul ; don't you ? " " Indeed I do. Nothing would delight me more than to have some of my own to love. There is nothing so desir- able as the pure love of little white-souled children, dear.'' He spoke so earnestly that the colour crept to Jean's cheeks, and she nestled her face close to the child's sunny head that he might not see how well she under- stood him. A strange little thrill, half pain, half pleasure, stirred in her heart as she thought how sweet it would be to hold a child of her own to her heart, and to see Paul's eyes soften at the sight. She gave the child up to its nurse with a sigh, and her eyes followed it yearningly till it was lost to sight in the gay crowd. Satanella's light laughter seemed to irritate her. 8he looked to where she stood in the circle of an admiring crowd of men. Paul was among them, " talking horses," as Jean called it, to a young nobleman who got himself up like a groom. He only wanted a piece of straw in his mouth to make the get-up perfect, Jean thought, as she looked at him with good-natured disapproval, for she knew that he was a good little fellow at heart, and she rightly thought a man had better love good horses than bad women. Jean, depressed by ill-health and a sense of injustice and wrong, and a hopeless want of interest in life, had ^- OK^ THE POWER OF LOVE. 133 it not beeu for a faith in the Divine haud which directs all for good, had never boiiie up so bravely. As it was, she looked back with intense yearning- and regret to the days when she was innocent of the knowledge of all evil, when her days were spent in quiet content amid the arcadian scenes of pleasant Deepdane. Paul, looking at the little, lonely figure in the big bath-chair, at the small, childish face that recalled Byron's lines : A pure, transparent, pale, yet i-adiant face, Like to a lighted alabaster vase, felt his heart heave with regret over his wild past. What had Jean and he in common ? — she so pure, so spotless, innocent of guile, whose whole life had been a white unsullied page ; and he, a scapegoat, a wild-oat- sowing simpleton, could only sigh over the gulf wIiIl-Ii divided them, and wish God Avould give him grace to span it with the might of a lasting love. CHAPTER XXII. {OU poor little misery, I hate to leave you moped up here alone wliile we are such a merry party below. Could not Paul carry you down — like tlie nurses do tlie babies — • for dessert ? " " I don^t think I should care to take dessert witb even so noble a company as you describe, Miss Mansie/^ said Jean with a half smile, as she looked up from ker book at the radiant vision before ber. Satanella wore a daring dress of sea-green satin, with water-lilies upon her superb head and beautiful bosom; she was a sight to make an old man young. She had allowed her maid to deepen the bloom of her cheek and lips, so that they suited the dress, and she held a fan formed from the wings of white sea-gulls in her slim hand. Satanella was jealous of Jean, and very foolishly had so loDg despised her rival that ji alousy had come upon her unawares as disease does upon the most healthy. Saianella had the sense to see real witchery in modest Jean's sott voice, sad eyes, and exquisite little face; and since Eliza Large had taken herself off in a huff to Deepdano and left Jean free to find a more suitable maid, Jean's dress showed signs of extreme taste and culture. Her elegant little figure had lost some of its pretty plumpness, but it had gained an added charm of refine- ment and style. Style is never to be despised ; it makes a plain woman pleasant to look upcn, a pretty one it makes noticeable, a beautiful one queenly. The room was a very pleasant one, large, lofty, and airy, locking over the cptn sea, and had hangings of cool mosfe-gieen r'elicved by flashes of pale primruse. -X BONNIE JEAN; OE^ TUE TOWER OF LOVE. 135 blue, and deep crimson ; a few art treasures lay about, and some rare engravings liung on the Avails. Jean being privileged as an invalid, had intended to dine in her own room, the doors of which opened into a white-draped bedchamber. Her maid was busy putting out a soft dress of delicate Indian muslin and lace, a girlish dress with a dash of gorgeous colour given by a spray of scarlet passion- flowers. She delighted to adorn her young mistress, who had won her love by her unfailing patience and sweetness. Satanella complimented Jean upon the treasure sho had in her maid, chatted a little about a new play, admired herself in the looking-glass, and sailed away, well satisfied that Jean was cosily settled for that evening, and Paul all her own for the time being. Jean heard her light laughter as she met Paul coming up the stairs three steps at a time. A second later Paul came in bright and jolly, and, sitting down by the open window close to her couch, said : i r • i " Duke's a deuced good fellow, ma helle ; he fancied you did not feel quite satisfied with the doctor now attending you, so he has invited Dr. John, who is coming to-night. I know you like him. Are you not pleased ? " " Yes, I am indeed ; Sir Duke is very good. I fear I am a sad wet blanket at such a festive time. Miss Mansie has been persuading me to come down to dest^ert like a child, but I prefer to stay quietly in my own room, it is too hot to exert oneself with a bad leg." "Poor little woman! I am afraid you feel the heat. Let me take you for a drive after dinner; there will bo a splendid moon, and it is delicious to drive past the old pier, right away by the beach to Kemptown. I will lift you'in°and out very tenderly, darling, and I daresay Duke and Mab will come too. By-the-bye, Duke has bought a ' sociable,' and Mab has got a tailor-made costume to wear when she rides it." Jean sighed. She hated to hear Paul speak familiarly of Mabel ; she marvelled that he dared, believing him Btill a slave to her charms, and Sir Duke believing in l36 BONNIE JEAN j them both. She hated the atmosphere of deceit that surrounded her; she despised herself for consenting to become Sir Duke's guest, knowing what she did of Mabel ; but now she had borne all so far she would continue to endure it to the bitter end. Mabel was soon to be married now, and Jean hoped that marriage would lift her above temptation, and make a good woman of her. Jean was there to look to Sir Duke's interest, she told herself, and she would try to do so ; but she did wonder how he could marry a woman like Satanella, knowing what her life was. She forgot that love believes its power omnipotent, and that it is not the best of women who are the best beloved. A gladsome, thrilling voice broke in upon the silence of Jean's chamber ; it was Satanella singing in the pretty drawing-room below : " Time and cliance are but a tide Ha, lia ! the wooing o't. Slighted love is sair to bide. Ha, ha ! the wooing o't. ' Shall I like a fool,' quoth he, ' For a haughty huzzee dee ? She may gae to — France for me ! ' Ha, ha ! the wooing o't." Jean sighed ; there was a witchery even in Mabel's voice that could call Paul's attention from her. He was listening now with a half smile on his lips, his fingers keeping time to the tune on the window-ledge. Jean watched the strong, white hand wiih impatient misery, and said, sharply tor her : " Do not let me keep you, Paul ; my book is very in- teresting, and my maid is waiting for me." Paul looked at her with some reproach, saying bitte-rly : " Pardon me, ma helle, I had no idea I was intruding-." His brow was flushed hotly as he left the rooiu ; he had come m good part to keep his little woman company, and she preferred her book. Not so Satanella. She welcomed him with a smile and a merry word, for she was in one of her happiest moods, and bent upon conquest; and Paul, turning over her music, inhaled the subtly sweet perfume that OK^ THE POWER OF LOVE. 137 pervaded her dress, and gave himself up to the glamourie that was Satanella's greatest charm. Her smiling eyes sought his, and when alone she audaciously lifted her vivid lips to him for a caress. Man is but mortal, and beauty is a spell that tries many a more constant mind than Paul's. After all, what is there in a careless kiss ? " Kiss " rhymes to " bliss " in fact as well as verse, I wisb it never led to something worse, says Byron, and so also say we. And Dr. Granger coming in quietly, his footsteps deadened by the thick carpet and the soft strains of music, saw this contact of the lips with hot indignation, for he held Jean's interest dearly at heart, and saw in the witchery of this woman's beauty and Paul's weakness, the unsounded depths of sorrow for the young girl-wife who waited above for her husband's return, her pale face flooded with penitential tears. Satanella started up with a glad little cry of surprise and welcome as she saw Dr. John, while Paul, with a smothered cnrse, saw in his friend's face that the foolish caress had been seen and condemned by him. Paul had felt reckless, and as usual with him had become the victim of Patanella's wiles. Why are women so wicked, I wonder, that they cannot let a man even keep faithful to his wife ? Sir Duke coming in just at this awkward moment. Dr. Granger gave his whole atrcntion to him, so showing Paul tliat he at least had the grace to despise treachery to friend and wife, and meant to have it out with Paul at the first opportunity. When he came to his room to dress for dinnei-, he passed the open door of Jean's pretty parlour, and pnused a second to note the sad droop of the graceful head, the weary pose of the girlish figure, outbned by the glories of the sunlit sky; and as he looked he sighed, and slipped away unseen, saying to himself: " How can men be so cruel, so bl'ud, to neglect the priceless pearl of pure and perfect love, for the firefly light and the self-consuming glow of that mad passion 138 BONNIE JEAN ; tlia,t burns up liouour, liappiness^ and peace ? That poor cliild feels the blight of unrequited love — oil, how I wish I could give her happiness. The man must bo mad. ni speak plainly to him j he shall see his sin in all its hideous deformity.'" When Dr. Jolin returned to his host, Satauella was by his side, her silken-soft hands clasped closely about his arms, her great starry eyes turned tenderly to his. With a soft little sigh and a timid smile, ISatanella released her betrothed, and holding out a white seductive hand to Dr. Johu, led him to the window to look at a pretty Spanish girl in a picturesque dress, siuging and playing the tambourine. When he was far enough away from Sir Duke, she said softly, seeming to poiut at the beauties of the sea : "Do not judge me harshly for what you saw just now; I will explain later." "There is no explanation due to me. Miss Mansie; ' men were deceivers ever,' and it seems women are the same, if not worse. Yes, she is a pretty gipsy girl; I like her voice, it has the freedom of fields and forest:j about it, and recalls the song of birds on the Aving. Dinner, Sir Duke ? Yes, I am ready to dine; the drive aloug the clilf was delicious, and it has given me a delightful appetite.'' No one seeing the little dinner-party through the open window could have credited that each heart contained its own bitterness — love at cross-purposes, disap^Dointed affection, mistrust, and grim depression. Like the beads on the wine, and the sparkle of the gems on Satanella's white breast, wit and laughter rang out softly on the mellow air, for these were society folk, accustomed to show a sunny side, to shine in good and bad moods alike, and, really, society has much to bo grateful for in this shallow brightuess, for it glosses over many a barren honour, hides many a miserable heartache that it would oppress one dismally to be made aware of. Jean, hearing the ripples of light laughter, aud the chink of glasses below, felt her heart sink more heavily thau usual, and she pushed her plate aside impatiently, sayiug she was too tired to eat. on, TFiE rnwKU op i.ove. 189 Tlie-Q, in tlie gloamiuo-, slie looked out with tear- dimmed eyes on the darkening scene, and in her heart prayed that life might not be long with her, for "verily her little body was aweary of this great woi-ld." Dr. John found her thus when he sought her an hour later. The moon had risen and flooded the sea with wan white fire; it lay, too, in silvery streamlets about Jean's sad face and soft white draperies, and the sight of the lonely little figure stirred a strange jealous ache in Dr. John's heart. Had she been his he could have made her happy, could have flooded her life with light and love. Somehow, in the silent hand-clasp and the tender, lingering look of his dark eyes, Jean felt his sympathy, gp.w that someone understood her sorrow; and her tender lips quivered so that she could say no word of greeting, only with a childlike yearning for comfort, she drew his hand against her cool damp cheek, and rested against it as one rests on the promise of the great Unseen. They stood thus silently for some seconds, "soul to soul, as hand to hand," and Dr. John's great true heart throbbed like the heart of the ocean, grand in its unknown power. At last Jean spoke in a pitiful, broken voice, saying : " I am so glad you have come. Dr. John ! I have missed yon so much, and 1 am sure you can make me well — can't you ? " "I will try, God helping me, dear child. Ah, I will try as I would to save my own soul. But you must look uj), be bright, hopeful, and at rest." "At rest? Ah, Dr. John, only the dead are at rest, and I am over youug to die." " Who talks of dying ? " said a cheery voice, and Paul was with them, his face flushed with Avine, his spirit all friendliness and faith in his power to make Jean joyful if she would only give him the chance; but she shrank away from his careless caress, and looked up at Dr. ] 40 BONNIE JEAN J John with mutely-appealing eyes, as though seeking his protection. " You won't let me kiss you ? Very well, Jeannie, my caresses shall not worry or weary you. I wonder what I have done to (>ifend your serene highness ? Ah, doctor, wives are wasteful witches. They throw away the tribute of love we husbands sacrifice at the matri- monial shrine, let the golden sands of love and time slip through their fingers, as thongli they could be gathered again at their will. Come, I won't scold. Don't look so glum, Jean, but let me carry you down to the drawing-room; there is light, and life, and cheerfulness there ; here you are as dull as dead wine." He tried to lift Jean, but she resisted, saying : " I accepted Dr. John's offer of assistance before you came, Paul." Then she held up her arms like a child to John, who forgave the little white lie she had spoken, in the pleasure of feeling her heart beat so near his own, and the locks of her soft hair brush his brow. The sudden delight that came to him while she lay in his embrace frightened him. He was strong in all things, but like Samson, just now seemed shorn of all his strength by the power of a tress of hair. Paul held back, biting- his lip angrily ; his liege lady's caprice cut him to the quick. It was not the first time she had preferred Dr. John's strong arms to his, and a jealous fury flew up to his brain and swept away reason like leaves before an autumn wind. With a quick curse he turned to the window, and tried to stifle his sudden rage. "The coquette, how dare she slight me for that fellow ? I'll teach them what is due to me ; I am not to be made the victim of their whims. Confound it! that wife of mine makes a fool of me. Hang it ! here is Satanella ; she is always at. hand when I am at my worst. Well, what use is it to fight against fate ? If Jean does not want my love, it is not valueless. Mab has power of appreciation about her. I wish I OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 141 was not Tnarried, I'd make the darling* si'nnor my very own ; as it is, I don't think I can g-ive her np to Duke." '^'Corae, Paul, they are wondering what detains yoii below. I am afraid Dr. John has made you feel out iu the cold?'' '^Not at all, my queen; you are the only one who can do that. Come here, I want you." "Nonsense, don't be so indiscreet; remember your wife's maid may be about." CHAPTER XXIII. WO men stood on tlie brow of the tall chalk cliff that margins the windy heights of the sunny South Downs. The morning was in its early glory, and they had strolled side by side in the bright breeze till they paused to look at a passing ship, whose silver sails hung white as a seagull's wings over the shining sea. Dr. John looked at Paul's moody face in silence a second, then said earnestly : " Paul Martinet, I gave you credit for some sense, and I thought you could see where the wind that carries your good fortune blows. Now I know that, like many another, you will make a shipwreck of your life among the shallows, after sailing half a lifetime safely among dangerous depths." " What do you mean Dr. John ? Speak plainly ; I am not in the mood to unravel riddles for any man's amusement." '' I will speak plainly, and if I offend, let my f riend- £.hip be my excuse. Paul, you are playing with fire in trifling with this mad infatuation for Miss Mansie ; you will break your "v^ife's heart, ruin your own and your friend's life ! Let the bad passion pass, hold to the right, respect yourself ! Be true to the child who loves you, and to whom you are bound by every tie in life. Oh, I entreat you, consider the misery you may bring upon innocent heads ! Let Miss Mansie be free to find safe anchorage in Sir Duke's honest love — ■ let her have a chance of redeeming her womanhood; save yourself and her from lifelong misery ! Make your young wife happy; remember you are all she has in the world; if you fail her, where can her sore heart find solace ? " -^ BONNIE JEANj OE, THE POWER OF LOVE. 148 Paul turned fiercely upon liim, saying hotly : " She can find comfort in you/^ " Hush, man ! you forget your words insult yourself j you know your wife is a true, good woman." " She is no wife to me, I know nothing about her -, to you she may be the bread of life, to me she is a stone, I have fought with the fate that seems determined to drag me down to dishonour. I have tried to be true, to win my wife's heart ; but while I am a man, strong to feel temptation, with a heart all hunger and emptiness, she is serenely insensible to the ruin her indiiference drives me to, and openly prefers another man — yourself.'^ " Nonsense ! she turns to me because she fancies she is a bore to you ; she, being a woman, does not like forced favours, cold kindness, or pretended passion. I tell you candidly, were she not your wife, I would do my best to win her from you, for she is well worth a man's best wooing and gladdest winning ; but as it is, she is as far above my wishes as that white wind cloud that kisses the skirts of the rosy sun. A man may have honour, and virtue, and right feeling, I can tell you, and I fancy I am a man of that sort. I don't profess to be a saint, but my soul is unsoiled by the sin of a pure life left polluted by my love. I respect your wife if you do not; and for her sake I make this appeal to you. " Take her home," continued Dr. John earnestly, " be patient with her, and forget Satanella, let her live her own life; there may be good in her, if so, let the good have a chance — do not stand between her and peace. You have a treasure above price in your wife ; keep her unsullied, let her be held above all evil ; love will live for her in your heart in time, for she is to be won by kindness, and I am much mistaken if she has not given you her heart already, and shame for the free and unvalued gift keeps her aloof when she longs to lay bare the burden of her soul to you. God bless her innocent, childlike heart, and give her the happiness I would lay down my life to win for her." Dr. John's voice shook. Paul v>^as touched. Paul held out his hand, saying frankly : "Forgive my mean thoughts, old man, they lower me -K 144 BONNIE JEAN ; OE, THE POWER OF LOVE. alone. Try to believe iu me ; I am not all bad, and if my wife could love me I believe the future would find I could deserve it. She is an angel and I am a fool ; but I have been wretched. I thought she cared for you^ and this thought was torture ; now I see clearer ; I see into what a pit my folly would hurl me. Give me your hand, old man. 1 know I don't deserve your trust, yet I dare to ask for it, and assure you as man to man that I will try hard to be true to my better nature, and make my wife happy if she will let me. " But I fear it is too late/' added Paul, sadly ; " she has steeled her heart against me, and such gentle natures as hers can be very firm and hard ; their very pride and. virtue make them cruelly cold. But I will hope for the best, I will be patient. Help me by your counsel and. friendship, and I shall not fail. We will prove the power of love, for though you may not credit it, I do love my Bonnie -Jean with the best love of ray life." " If you do all will be well. You lift a load from my heart. To see Jean happy would make life endurable to me. Poor girl ! my heart has yearned over her as over an own child. "Who is this coming ? Miss Mansie. I will leave you to meet her alone. I don't feel equal to fencing oif the fire of her blue eyes. IJemember your promise; steel your heart against the beautiful witch. Leave her for her good, foolish Duke. 'Pon my soul, he is to be pitied, but, like a wilful woman, he will have his way. Fancy being such a fool at four-and-forty ! " Paul smiled as Dr. John swung away with long, swift strides over the thymy turf, and the sun was in his eyes as he met Satanella, so that he was dazzled by a power greater than her beauty. " I shall hate that Dr. John if he takes so much of your time, Paul. How can you be civil to a man who openly makes love to your wife ? I only hope Duke will be as indulgent ; I declare such blind trust must be most desirable. How happy you look ! What has elated you ? Are you thinking of an elopement ? " " Yes ; with my own wife. A novel programme — eh, ma telle ? The truth is I owe it to Duke to go away. I am not quite a villain." NOTICE.— This "Work will be pnblislied every Wednesday. Orders should he given to yonr Bookseller early. BONNIE JEAN. No. 7. CHAPTER XXIV. -s^ 'hat are you going to wear at tte wedding to-morrow, Jeanuie ? " " I left it to Maggie to decide for me," said Jean, lifting her eyes a second from her sketch-book to look at Paul, who lay at her feet on the grassy slope that led down to the beach in front of the vast square on the cliff. Jean was busily sketching a narrow slip of sea, upon which a pretty yacht lay at anchor. The rest of the party had strolled down to the sands. Jean wondered why Paul stayed by her side instead of Dr. John, and so far had" not found the change advantageous, for Paul had kept silently smoking by her side, reading the paper. Jeannie was much better ; she could now walk with a stick, and the unusual exertion had brought the bloom back to her face, and her hair still hung damp from bathing; such pretty, bright, wavy hair it was, and Paul, surprised at its luxuriance, wound a tress round his finger as he spoke, and said admiringly : " What beautiful hair you have, little woman ; it looks so ruddy and bright in the sun ! " Jean blushed, thinking how few husbands could find a surprise in their wives' looks after some months of marriage, yet they were drifting — ever drifting farther apart. In vain he tried to thaw the ice that had frozen round his wee wife's heart, in vain he laboured with a right good-will to win her to himself ; she was sweetly cold, . kindly distant, always gentle, docile, and agreeable, while he kept his distance, but timid as a bird if he approached too nearly, or presumed upon his privilege as a husband ; between her and her husband was the secret of Satanella's fatal love. ^ BONNIE JEAN; OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 147 Jean could not credit that he could change and lii3 heart turn to her ; and, strange to relate, her coldness increased Paul's interest in her. Women were all too prone to fall at his feet, a repulse was indeed a novelty. Her gentle dignity made him feel proud of her, and each day brought some fresh surprise to him, for Jeannie's mind was not an empty waste, but cultivated ground. Never until this morning had he seen her sketch- book, which now proved her to be no mean artist, lurnmg over the sheets he came upon a spirited sketch of himself, and also an exquisitely-finished portrait of Satanella. Jean had caught her bright perverse expression and the delicate tints of flesh, and eyes, and hair; and, under it, m Jean's neat square hand, was written, " There is a garden in her face," and under that these lines, so truly expressive of Satanella : A wild where weeds and flowers promiscuous shoot, A garden tempting with forbidden fruit. Paul mused over the sketch and the lines, and sighed, wishing sincerely that he had never been led by the serpent of sin into the garden of Eden. "She is very beautiful; I could not do her justice," said Jean, looking at the sketch in his hand. "My dear girl, that is the very best likeness of Mabel I have ever seen. I will put it in a plush frame and give it to Sir Duke; he will be delighted. Really, you are a very clever little woman ; I ought to be "proud of my wife." Jean's lips quivered, she had rather a man be fond than proud of her; love, deep and adoring, was the only thing that could content her. "Would you not like to keep the sketch vourself, Paul ? " "Yes, as a piece of my wife's work; but I would rather it were the pretty sketch I can see you doing now. When you have rested shall I take you for a row ? " " Yes, I should like that; it never seems so hot on the sea as it is here^ and the glare makes my head ache." -^ SSJ 148 BONNIE jean; " Poor little head ! I wish I could kiss its pain away." Paul laid his head in her lap as he said this, and looked up at her with a smile. Something stirred in Jean's heart like hope at the sight of that loving smile. How kind and patient he had been with her ; how she wished she could trust him. For a second her hand toyed with his hair^ and her fair face softened. '^Darling little wife, can't you say something kind to me ? Oh, Jeannie ! if you only knew how my heart hungers for some sign and token of love from you ! Why can't we be happy like other married folk — eh, dear ? " Jean was about to answer him, when a gay voice said : " Oh, you shockingly spooning people ! what an example you set us ! " " Why should we not, Miss Mansie ? you forget we're licensed to love as much as we like," answered Paul, meeting Satanella's stormy eyes with a defiant smile. She threw herself down beside them, saying wearily : " I shall be glad to get away to France ! I am tired of these everlasting white cliffs and the glaring sun. "You get tired of everything, Mab." " Fie, mon ami ! I have never tired of yo.u." "It's a blessing my little wife is not jealous," said Paul, fondling Jean's fluttering hand, and kissing it tenderly. " Perhaps she is, only is too wise to show it — eh, Mr.s. Martinet ? " Jean did not answer, and Mab Avent on recklessly: " Dou't you believe in that young man, my dear, he is up to some mischief or he would not seem so meek ; quite a model benedict. Dear me, hoAV droll it is to think of our pretty Paul as a benedict ! " " Not more droll than the idea of that wicked witch Satanella as a wife." " Ah, but you will never think of me as anything but your old chum Satanella." As she said this she laid her hand familiarly upon Paul's, and he turned pale at the sight of Jean's face. a^- OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 149 The strange fierce look soon passed, leaving the old expression, but the memorj of that look lingered; like lightning, it had shown there was hidden fire smouldering in Jean's breast. Sir Duke came up and joined them, whisperino- soft nothings m Satanella's shell-like ear. ^ She was in a good humour, so she listened very graciously, and after some remark, quoted archly : " Out upon it ! I have loved Three whole days together, And am like to love three more. If it prove fine weather. Give me a cigarette, Duke, there's a darling. I am dying for a smoke." " Someone will see you, sweetheart." "Let them; they are bound to like the sight. What do I care for what folks think or say ? " " Well, if you will smoke, we had better get on to the . open sea." "I wish you would. There's this idle fellow, Paul full of promises, but I don't believe he likes the role of Jolly Young Waterman. Come, Mistress Jean, don't look such a kill-joy." " I did not know I looked glum," said Jean, with a slow soft smde, rising with the help of Paul's strono- aiTOs as she spoke, and clinging to him for support". " I am cramped with sitting." "What wonder if you are after nursing your good man's heavy head. For all its flaxen locks it is a large head— m fact, to quote a fellow actor, it is a thick head!" A very gay little party started in a pleasure-boat. None would imagine anything but harmony existed between them, but Dr. John saw Jean's eyes gloom when they looked upon Satanella in her insolent beautv, with her voluptuous form swaying gracefully backwards and forwards as she took steady strokes, for Satanella would row in spite of the heat, and even bared her beautiful arms to the task, glad, perhaps to show such shapely limbs. Sir Duke watched her with enraptured regard, and Paul, seeing the light of love in his looks, pitied him K Jl^- 150 BONNIE JEAN; from the very bottom of his heart, for Duke was a good fellow, and deserved a kinder fate than that which awarded him Satanella. Rowing out to sea they came alongside the yacht Jean had sketched, and Satanella saucily hailed them with a musical " Ship ahoy ! " Then, to everyone's surprise. Sir Duke said : " Why, I declare, it's the Lady Bird — Lady Lyston's craft. We'll go aboard and get a bottle of fizz ! " " Lady Lyston ! Let me see, Duke, was she not an old flame of yours ? " "Yes ; when I was a younger son she had a romantic notion that she could care for even love in a hut with me, but I was sent abroad, and she married an earl, and they made a model couple ; he died, deep I } lamented by his widow, three years ago." A little later they were climbing the ladder, and standing upon the spotless deck of as pretty a yacht as ever skimmed the foam from the wave. Among a heap of crimson cushions sat a sweet- faced woman of five-and-thirty, a perfect oval face, fair and serene, with a tender mouth, and true and steadfast eyes. She paled a little at the sight of Sir Duke. She had long known Satanella by report, and had shrunk from the introduction ; but now it was forced upon her she behaved charmingly, and took Jean's heart by storm by her pretty attentions to them all. Luncheon was got, and as there was a nice party on board, it was very merry, Satanella and Paul shining like twin stars in their brilliant spirits and clever chat. Jean rested by Lady Clare's side, with her only child, a little lad of eight, beside her. Sir Duke was rather silent; in spite of his mad love, and Satanella's fatal beauty and wonderful witchery, she lacked the grace, repose, and polish that dis- tinguished his old love, who regarded him kindly, speaking only praise of his beautiful darling, though her heart misgave her on his account, and she wished, since he had ceased to love her, that he had chosen such a one as Bonnie Jean. 5p ^ OE, THE POWER OP LOVE. 151 A younger brother of Lady Lyston's took a great fancy to Jean, lingering "by her side, and making her talk to him. Paul, seeing his young wife^s smiles and brightened mood, felt unreasonably angry. " She can flirt as well as the worst of her sex ; she is only cold to me,'' he thought bitterly. "The party stayed quite late, got up a moonlight dance, and managed to enjoy themselves amazingly. Satanella, after a dance with Paul, leant back in the shadows fanning herself. He was looking across the deck to where Jean sat by Lady Clare and her brother, Dick Gordon. Satanella laughed lightly, spying : " Jean means to take her revenge ; I must say she has made a very fair choice. But hoAV savage Dr. John looks ! Anyone can see the man's madly in love with her, Paul." " Can they ? Then it's a blessing I was born blind. I see nothing so silly." "Oh yes, you do, dear boy; don't try to deceive yourself; but of course you do not care — why should you ? You only married her for her money, you know." " I do care — by Heaven I do ! If I thought she cared for anyone but myself, I'd kill her ! " "My dear boy, you forget we are off the boards; why upset yourself ? There is plenty of consolation left in life, even if your Bonnie Jean fails you." " Mabel, why do you try to pour poison into my heart and mind ? Why can't you let me find happiness in my own way ? " "Because I love you, Paul, more madly, more deeply and dearly than ever, and I cannot bear to think another has taken my place in your heart." " I wish you would not gush, Mab ; some one might hear you, and the situation would then be deucedly unpleasant for us both. Surely that foolish girl cannot mean to dance, Gordon must be a fool to ask it. Excuse me, Mab, I must stop that ; she is not fit to dance yet." He alluded to Jean, to whom he crossed at once, leaving Satanella alone. » ^ 152 BONNIE JEAN; OE, THE POWEE OF LOVE. She leant over the side of the ship and muttered miserably : " How I hate her ! She is stealing his love from me. Oh, it maddens me ; I cannot bear it — it will kill me ! " The moonlight danced on the waves, the soft splash, splash, of the water made music below, but there was evil at work in the mind of Satanella, a demon of jealousy was rifo within her to work ruin and de- struction. She saw Paul bending over his wife, saw young Gordon leave them with a shrug of his broad shoulders, and then saw Paul put Jean's wraps closer about her, and draw her down to a seat beside him ; and Satanella's teeth shut cruelly, and she thought to herself : ''He is jealous, mistrustful; all the better for me. He thinks to shake me off, but he shall find there is a power beyond him in Satanella's love or hate. I wish I could hate him as I hate her, for " Hatred is by far the longest pleasure ; Men love in haste, but they detest in leisure. Ah, here comes Gordon to ask me to dance, and Duke looks daggers. Heigho ! what would the world be without a few flirtations ? " CHAPTER XXT. -|4 ATANELLA^S wedding morning' dawned bright and clear; not a cloud was in the sky^ and Sir Duke^ bright as tlie morning, rose full of hope and joyful anticipation. Not so Satanella ; never was she in a more evil mood. Now that she was about to give up her liberty, she loved it more than all else ; she loathed the thought of her kind lover, and she shuddered as she thought she must give up much to keep her place by his side. But her affairs were in a desperate coudition; she was surrounded on every side by debts and difficulties. Magnificent diamonds lay ready to her hand, costly laces, rich silks, and all that can gladden the eyes of a woman ; but looking at the price of them — herself — she thought them dearly bought. A title, ^tis true, Avould tickle her vanity, give her importance in the sight of her old comrades. She promised herself good times, but she knew she must jsay the penalty by sur- rendering herself, body and soul, to the calls of her new position. Arrayed in all her bridal bravery, she brightened up, left off scolding her maid, and was pleased to become agreeable. Jean, whose room adjoined hers, heard the scolding, the crying maid, the insane bustle and excitement, and smiled as she serenely buttoned her own gloves and surveyed herself in faultless get-up of exquisite pale pink and pearls. Paul knocked at the door, and entered with a beauti- ful bouquet of wild roses and sweetbriar, to match the wreath in her hair, and the maid discreetly withdrew while he 'kissed the little gloved hand held out for the flowers, saying : -^ X 154 BONNIE JEAN; " My dear, I hope you did not raise sucli a storm in a teapot as Mab has this morning. I pity Duke ; I am afraid he^ll never have the courage to take her in hand after Burns' direction." " What was Robert Burns' direction^ Paul ? " " Well, I'll tell you, as they are exactly my own sentiments, but if the words offend, you must blame Scotland's peasant poet : " Ciirsd be the man, the poorest wretch in life, The crouching vassal to the tyrant wife. Who has no will, but by her high permission. Who has not sixpence but in her possession. Who must to her his dear friend's secrets tell. Who dreads a curtain lecture " Jean smiled, and said archly : '^Hush! If Miss Mansie heard you she would box your ears." " My dear child, I assure you if someone would box her own, she'd respect them for ever. I like your dress ; you look like a sweet moss-rose ! I never saw you look so well. What makes you so bright, love ? " Jean laid her hand on Paul's a moment, saying hurriedly : " I am so glad to see a fresh barrier raised betAveen you and a sinful passion. I want to respect my husband if he will not let me love him." " Not let you ! Oh, my wife, it is the one desire of my life to see those dear eyes lifted to mine, shining with the light of love." Jean, moved by his earnestness, lifted her clear eyes to his with a look in them that sent the blood from his heart to his brain. " Oh, Jean, is it possible you can care for me ? Do not leave me. Speak, child, let there be peace aud joy for us." But Jean fluttered away after whispering hoarsely : " Are you worthy of my love, Paul ? " And Paul felt he could not answer her. " What fools we men are," he thought, " to fritter away the best, and purest, and freshest feelings of our natures on wantons and gamblers ! " V ^ OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 1^5 Satanella appeared composed and sweet when she met her bridegroom at the church. Mabel felt a strange thrill pass through her as she saw the ring gleam brightly as Sir Duke pressed it on her finger, and some long-forgotten rhymes flashed through her brain in letters of fire. The minister's mellow tones spoke a benediction on them, and mingling with his words came the surging rhyme : , i i The magic circlet on thy hand, Is shining in the snn ; \ It tells of girlhood passed away, Of woman's life begun. Mabel almost staggered as she rose from her knees ; somehow thoughts of happy innocent childhood stole m upon her with the light that shone on God s altar. She sighed as she thought how amazed her hard- hearted old mother would be to see her now— knew that she would scorn the proud Lady Dandergard as sturdily as she did the girl who ran away from home and innocence to the gay life of London. Paul saw the changing expression of the beautiful cold face then turned with a sense of relief to look upon Jean's pale, pensive face with its starry eyes of purity. When the wedded pair started on their bridal-tour, Jean felt her heart lighten as from a burden. Paul was left to her now, and she hoped he would learn to forcret the white siren who had so long held sway over him'', body and soul. Dr. John saw the brightened look in Jean's eyes with thanksgiving. Surely Paul would win his wife at last. i- i , v j It was night again, and the moonlight lingered lovingly about the pure white bed where Jean lav sleeping tranquilly, though the tear-drops still glittered on the long dark fringes of her young eyes. AH the house was hushed, nothing was heard but the sound ot the sea Outside Jean's window there lay a wide stone balcony, upon which Paul, restless and unhappy, paced slowly, smoking his pet pipe. ., r ,i i The balcony ran along the whole length of the house, and at one end was considered unsafe, so that a number 156 BONNIE JEAN ; of shrubs and ferns were grouped there around a statue of Venus. Along the front o£ the house on this floor French Avindovvs opened out on the balcony. Paul had passed Jean's window, and paused a second there to think of her Avho slept within. Now he moodily rested his arms on the balustrade and looked out on the foam-flecked sea. A wild longing was in his heart to feel himself free to roam over the wide world in search of excitement, forgetfulness, peace. Oh, if Jean would but let him love her, how different life might be for both of them ; but Jean was cold and distant, an ice-woman unsunned by the purple light of love. A faint sound made him turn quickly. Jean's window opened cautiously, and out on the cold stone stole two little bare white feet supporting a dream- maiden, " so smooth, so white, so wonderful, it seemed a lioht came from her Avhen she moved.^' The summer air stirred the soft brown hair upon her slumberous brow, and swayed the soft snowy night-drapery about the girlish form. The rosy lips were parted in an absent smile, the great soft eyes were wide open and shone with an unseeing light, for sleep still sealed the soul of Jeannie. She looked like a child with her bonnie brown hair streaming about her, and her little jewelled hands i-pread out before her as though to shield her from danger. Paul stood still, rooted to the spot by this unlooked- for apparition. His heart beat high, then stood still, as she came slowly towards him, gazing beyond him at the starlit sky, with the wide, unseeing eyes of sleep. Jean looked so shadowy and unsubstantial that Paul at first thought it must be a delusion ; but she sped on, fleet of foot, and silent as the night, till she stood beside him. He held his breath and drew back that he might not scare her, for he could see she was asleejj. She folded her hands on her breast and sighed softly ; her loosened hair blew back, disclosing her soft bare throat. 5- ^ ^ OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 157 The waving tresses lay across Paul's breast ; he lifted a tress reverently to his lips, and stood silently beside her, wondering where her wandering fancy would take her next. To his surprise she began to sing softly a low tender melody like a lullaby, a little soul-sweet song without words, that touched Paul with memories of other happier, more innocent days. A great yearning to lift her in his strong arms, and bear her back to her cosy nest seized him, but he resisted the impulse, afraid of awakening her too rudely and she moved noiselessly towards the dangerous part of the balcony — moved so swiftly that he had hardly time to stand between her and danger before she brushed against him, and in puzzled bewilderment paused beside him. He fancied for a moment that she would retrace her steps, and so return to her bed-chamber, but she did not; she only stood quietly beside him, till he, afraid for her, very quietly and cautiously took her hand, and silently guided her back to her window. Here she stood still, as though debating whether or not to go in, and he, fearing she would wake and be both startled and ashamed, put his arm round her, and compelled her with gentle force to enter her chamber. He led her to the side of the bed, then patiently sat down to await her pleasure. He recalled to mind the " Eve of St. Agues," and he wondered if Keats's imagination had pictured a more beauteous vision for his Madeline than Jean looked in her moonlight beauty, as she sat before him, slowly rubbing one snowflake foot over the other. Paul felt rather frightened by his discovery : to have married a somnambulist seemed a serious thing, and sleeping alone as she did with her window unguarded was dangerous in the extreme. Paul watched her till she drooped like a lily-pale flower, overpowered by fatigue, and lay in deep repose upon her pillow. »r -^ 158 BONNIE JEAN ; OR^ THE POWER OF LOVE, When she awoke^ the rosy dawn bathed all things in golden glory, and beside hei- sat her husband sound asleep, the sun lighting up the gold of his hair. Hastily performing her morning toilet, she hurried away to the sands. Here Paul seeking her found her, and was startled at the change in her sweet looks. Sitting dow^n by her side he took both her trembling hands in one of his, and putting his other hand under her dimpled chin, raised her face to look into her eyes. Jean's lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears that she in vain tried to blink back. The sight of the troubled face touched Paul. He pressed her trembling lips with a long lingering kiss, and smiled to Fee the pale face flush into positive beauty. Hiding her face in her hands, she whispered : " Take me home to dear old Deepdane, Paul ; I shall be happier there." " And I shall be bappy anywhere in the world with you, for I love my Jean, and hope to win her to love me in return. I can be patient, and believe everything comes to him who waits and hopes." " And you will not regret Satanclla ? " " Satanella, my darling ? Having a wife of my own, T covet no man his. I only hope Satanella and Duke will be as happy as we mean to be." ^- K CHAPTER XXVI. ACK in Deepdane all in the golden weather, when the beautiful place was at its best, and every hour of the day enjoyable. Paul had left Jean at home alone for a whole day, having to go to town on business. Paul was very happy; he loved Jeannie dearly, and every day bound them closer together. Paul was proud of the princely possession that his wife had endowed him Avith, and looked forward to a long life of happiness with her. She seemed to have gained grace and dignity in returning to her old home, and was now quite a gay little lady, moving among the best folks in Sussex. Her horses, her hounds, her dresses, were the envy of the county, and her handsome talented husband added not a little to her social success. There seemed nothing wanting to make their lives perfect, and the future spread out a fair and pleasant prospect. Yet, unseen and unsuspected, the storm-clouds were crathering thickly about them, and peace had already spread her silvery wings for flight. Jean waited on the lawn, under the shade of a spread- ing beech j a cloudy dress of grey lace, with scarlet velvet bows to brighten it, made her look very charming. The day had been intensely hot, and the rays of the setting sun were fierce, and when Jean grew impatient and left the shelter of the tree, she opened a big scarlet umbrella. Wandering among the rose-bushes she plucked a bunch of creamy roses, and tucked them in her belt, watched the while by a splendid collie that followed her with stately strides. PauVs train was overdue; she felt anxious and lonely. » ^- 160 BONNIE JEAN; Paul had promised faithfully to return that night, yet Jean felt a foreboding that told her he would not come. Just as the second dinner-bell rang out on the still evening air, Jean decided to go in — what use to wait ? Tears were in her brown eyes, a sense of bitter dis- appointment made her heartache. The stately dining- room, with the white-haired butler in attendance, looked very desolate to Jean. Just as she sat down, a footman brought a telegram which explained that Paul was detained at the theatre, and would not return till the following day. Jean had hoped he would return by the midnight mail, and her disappointment was hard to hide. She hurried over dinner, then finding a wrap, she went over the dewy meadows to the vicarage. The Brassys were always glad to see Jean, and this was one of their At Homes. Quite a merry party had assembled, among them Dr. Drake, a handsome young fellow, whose face brightened at sight of his old sweetheart, who was so much improved that he could hardly realise the shy Jean of old in this radiant vision of perfect womanhood. It was hard to think of her as a wife, and not his, for he had loved her long and tenderly ever since she had been a timid stag-eyed child, who had looked up to him as a young hero. Bertie Drake and Paul had not met, for the young doctor had been from home on a pleasure-trip. Jean was glad to see him and chat over old times, so that the evening passed very pleasantly, and when she returned through the moonlit meadows with him by her side, she felt like a happy girl again. Meanwhile, Paul had taken part in a new play which had pi'oved a great success, and afterwards had stayed with Mr. Merrick and another old chum at his club to supper, and then they played cards till late, and Paul made an arrangement for Septembei^'s sports. So that time passed pleasantly for him, too, though his thoug-hts often flew to his Bonnie Jean. sr : ^ OB, THE POWER Of LOVE. 161 The next morning as lie was Btrolling along Pall Mall, just by the Water Colour Gallery, he ran against Sir Duke and Satanella, who were delighted to see him. •• i Mabel saw the look of happy content on his face with secret misgiving. He seemed, she thought, totally to have forgotten his blind love for herself. She was feeling annoyed ; honeymoons, I fear, have a tendency to make people dull ; she was now longing for a little genuine excitement, and had the misfortune to find the doors of society shut to her. In vain Sir Duke insisted they were society enough for each other ; she could not see it. Her grand house in Park-lane, her perfect horses, fine clothes, and splendid jewels had no power to charm her unless she could show them off to a crowd of admiring friends. Sir Duke naturally objected to many of her former acquaintances, and she found he could be firm even with her when he chose. So he hailed the sight of Paul with delight, fished for an invitation to Deepdane, and, alas for the weakness of the masculine mind, got it. Directly Paul had asked Sir Duke to pay them a visit, his heart misgave him. What would Jeannie think? and after all it was her home. Though she never made him feel his obligation, he knew it existed, but he would not retract his words, especially as Duke seemed so delighted with the idea of the visit ; so he made the best of his blunder and left them with a feeling of having made a fool of himself. When he reached Deepdane he found a merry party assembled in the tennis ground. Jean, in a white dress, with a wide hat shading her face, stood under a pear- tree ; flushed and breathless, hat in hand beside her, looking very handsome in flannels, stood Bertie Drake, his sleek dark head bent towards her. They were both laughing heartily and did not notice Paul until he was close to them ; and Jean started with a bright blush and introduced her old friend the doctor to her husband. The two men bowed a little stiffly, Paul being the first to speak. ^ ^ ^ 162 BONNIE JEAN; OEj THE POWER OF LOVE. " You knew my Avife when slie was a child^ I believe, doctor ? " '* Yes, and a queer little kitten slie was ; we were great churns. You would hardly credit she could climb a tree like a squirrel, and bottle tadpoles, steal apples, and still be a demure little duckling, after the prim pattern of dear Aunt Pridie." "I think Jean can be just what she likes — everything to everyone," said Paul, not illnaturedly, but, somehow, his words hurt Jean, who hastened off to Violet Brassy. Violet bloomed like a rose in a pretty pink muslin gown, with knots of wide black velvet at her throat, Avrists, and waist. When the game was over, and the young people rested under the shade of the trees to eat strawberries- and-cream, Paul said to Jean : " I met Sir Duke and Satanella ; they both seem very jolly. I have invited them on a visit here; I hope you are not vexed about it, dear.""^ Jeau felt the sensitive colour ebb from her face ; a dull presentiment of evil weighed upon her; but she answered him quietly that all his friends must be wel- come in her home. Yet had she known the misery that was to come from that visit, she would have cast pride to the winds, and entreated Paul to spare her the pain of ever seeing Satanella again. " You know Dr. John and Hagar are coming, too, f^'aul, very soon, and a host of other guests as well, so we shall not have a chance of boring each other much longer." "For which, I suppose, you are intensely grateful," answered Paul bitterly. " Of course, " said Jean with a smile, picking out a large strawberry, and offering it to him with an arch look. Bertie saw the look and sighed, for Jean lay deep down in his heart. In vain he told himself she must take no part in his life, and love for her be ever a canker at the root of his existence. -^ » ^ CHAPTER XXYir. IR MARMADUKE and Lady Dauder- gai'd, " announced the pompous butler at Deepdane, just as Jean was serving tea in pretty Crown Derby china. Quite a merry party had assembled in the quaint low-roofed room leading out on to the lawn — a room called the summer parlour^ because it wa? a favourite sitting-room in hot weather. The oaken floors were covered with strips of cool Indian matting; the ivy low-latticed windows were open, and the scent of jasmine and climbing roses came into the shady room. Big bowls of flowers stood on the quaint spiral-legged tables;, and across the oak-beamed ceiling ivy had been trained. Bertie Drake was teasing Yi Brassy, and a group of pretty girls and men in tennis costume gathered round Paul to hear him recite a poem. Paul looked splendid in white flannels and a blue cap, and many a maiden envied Jean the possession of such a hero. Satanella created quite a diversion as she entered in a cool grey travelling-dress with a jockey cap of ruby red. The coldness of Jean's greeting was not noticed amid the general buzz of conversation that followed. Sir Duke professed himself delighted with the picturesque room, and his eyes lingered admiringly upon Bonnie Jean in her quaint chintz dress and gay ribbons. " By Jove ! the little Quakeress promises to become a beauty. What a change in her since I saw her last ! Health is the best beautifier in creation. " " I was thinking how well your wife looks, Paul. " " Yes ; she is very well^ thank God I and happy^ toOj I hope. " A y ^ H 164 BONNIE JEAN; " If looks can speak, ste certainly is both. " Satanella came to Paul's side, and said, as she laid her jewelled hand familiarly upon his arm : "You have not said you are glad to see me, Paul." Paul bowed, saying gaily ; *' Do we thank the sun for shining, or the flowers for blooming, ma chere amie ? " Jean heard the jesting words and sighed ; she felt at least her heaven of blue would be clouded while Satanella shared her home. A little later she showed Satanella to her room, a quaint bedchamber hung with tapestry : a room which was enshrined in its traditions, and noted far and wide as being the scene of an ancient court-scandal. A peal of thunder broke up the tranquil serenity of the air as Jean ushered her unwelcome guest into the room. Satanella shuddered; she hated thunder and lightning ; it set her nerves quivering with superstitious dread. " Are you afraid ? " said Jean, whose heart sank at sight of the blinding flashes. " Yes, sometimes, when I am tired or out of sorts." " I will send some wine by your maid," said Jean, backing out of the room. In the dim corridor she met Paul, who put his arm round her tenderly, saying : " I came to look for you, petite. I was afraid the storm would scare you. How yoa tremble ! Foolish child, nothing will hurt you here." Jean nestled close, one bare white arm, from which the sleeve had fallen back, clasped round his neck. Satanella, impatient at being left alone, opened the door, and saw in a white sheet of flame the man she loved, holding to his heart the sweet girl-wife. There was love and protection in his looks, and as the light died out, leaving them in gloom, Mabel crept back to her room, her heart consumed by a jealous rage that made her even afraid of her own thoughts. When Satanella returned to the other guests the storm had passed, and she flashed out upon them bright as the sun, in a costly dress of old-gold. » — « >? — a^ ORj THE POWER OP LOVE. 165 As she entered the room, Jeaniiie was singing, and Bertie Drake stood beside her, his handsome face look- ing down upon Jean with an expression of intense admiration. Satanella saw Paul was watching them with an un- easy look in his eyes, and the thought struck her that if he loved his wife he could be made to suffer even as she, Satanella, suffered now. Bertie took Jean's place at the piano, and sang m a rich full voice a song of praise. Paul's brow darkened as he listened. Bertie had a roving eye and a smile that spoke sweet things, and never in his life had checked a caprice or denied himself a pleasure. Light-hearted, hopeful, and thoughtless, he never looked beyond the hour. Jean's society pleased him more than ever it had done : he meant no real harm, but a spirit of mischief moved him to pay his pretty hostess very marked attention. . ,_• . i Satanella's keen eyes took in the situation at a glance, and she determined to turn it to good account. Most of the guests stayed to dinner, Bertie Drake among them. During dessert a man came breathless to inform him that Dr. Drake's pretty old house was on fire The gentlemen rushed away m a body (how is it men are so fond of fires?)— and Jean almost as excited as Bertie, waited impatiently for their return. After some hours the gentlemen came back. Bertie was dreadfully cut up, for it had proved impossible to save the old place that was dear for association s sake. Jean was very tender and sympathetic, and Paul in- sisted that Bertie should make Deepdane his home for an indefinite time. ,^ , , , , ^i j Jean's grateful eyes thanked Paul better than words, and he felt glad he had been able to gratify her by kindness to her old friend. Satanella smiled quietly ; they were playing into her hand; she felt she had the trump card. A week later a hop-picking picnic was proposed, and Jean got up a charming affair, all the ladies wearing garlands of hops upon their white hats, and soft ^- 1 66 BONNIE JEAN ; sea-green muslin gowns. There were some hop-gardens ten miles from Deepdane ; here the party assembled^ meri'v and careless as children out for a holiday. Many a merry romp was afterwards remembered with regret; one Satanella led Paul into. Tempted by her raillery, he lifted her and ducked her into one of the hop-bins. This silly act brought a frown to Sir Duke's frank face, and filled Jean, who had somewhat prudish notions, with indignation. Jean went off in a huff with Bertie, and Paul was left to escort Mabel, while Sir Duke devoted himself to his old flame, Lady Lyston, who was of the party by Jean's invitation. Lady Lyston was staying with her father, at his country seat a few miles distant. Satanella was glad to see her lord so well engaged, thus leaving her free to follow the bent of her own pleasure, which was to keep Paul at her side during her ramble in the hop-gardens ; but Paul was vexed to see Jean with young Drake, so that he proved anything but a pleasant companion to Satanella, who resented his in- difference keenly ; but she was too proud to show it, only her resentment grew gigantically, and she deter- mined to be revenged for this slight. All sorts of wicked wishes and ideas came to her, yet she could not see clearly how to carry them out. Her great wish was to lower Jean in Paul's eyes, to compromise her in some way, and Dr. Drake's attentions opened a tempting vista of possibilities. She believed him as unscrupulous as herself. Paul seemed vexed that Jean kept up a flirtation with young Drake, though he trusted her too well to tell her how her indifference pained him. He regretted ever re- turning to Deepdane; still more keenly he regretted allowing his home to be crowded with visitors, thus making it possible for Jeannie to separate herself so often from him for whole days together. The time had come when Jean had arranged to end the day's entertainment; they were to drive home through a wooded scene by moonlight. Everyone was very merry, and some were very tired ; among these were Jean and Lady Lyston. There was a 8? — . - - ^ ^ OR; THE POWER OF LOVE. 167 g^reat deal of discussion as to who should ride together. Duke wanted his wife to ride on the box-seat of a drag with him ; he was a splendid vrhip^ and enjoyed driving immensely ; but Satanella, to Paul's surprise and annoy- ance, said : " I have promised to ride back with Mr. Martinet.'' Jean cast a reproachful look at Paul, and at once accepted a seat by Bertie Drake. She was bitterly annoyed, for she had humbled herself to say to Paul : "Let me ride back with you, Paul. I have not spoken to you to-day " ; and Paul had smiled brightly upon her, saying : " My darling, that was what I wanted to ask of you, but feared you would not care for my company after that of your old sweetheart." Now Jean thought he had forgotten her request, or chosen to ignore it, and she was angry and hurt. Paul helped her into the seat by Drake, and as he did so, whispered : " Confound the woman's impudence ! I could not con- tradict her though I was horribly annoyed. I shall speak to her about it presently." " Why trouble about it, Paul ; it certainly does not matter to anyone ? '' Joan's eyes flashed, and her pretty lips were set with a look of anger. '•' Take care of my little woman, Drake, for her life is precious," said Paul, as Bertie gathered the reins in his hands, and started off in fine style. Satanella found Paul a sullen companion. She only laughed spitefully when he said fiercely : " Why did you tell Duke that falsehood, Mab ? Is it impossible for you to tell the truth ? " " Perhaps ; but I wished to ride with you. You ought to feel flattered ! " " Ought I ? There may be two opinions about that. Another time, please consult me before settling things." Sir Duke, always sweet-tempered and easy to please, found his return journey very pleasant with Lady Lyston by his side, and Bertie, thanks to the summer moon, and ^- 168 BONNIE JEAN; ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. Jean's sweet society, to say notliing of unlimited cliam- pagne, was in the seventh heaven of delight. Jean found him a little too friendly, and his compli- ments slightly too pronounced, but she thought if Paul did not care she need not, and she was in just that des- perate jealous mood when one delights in punishing oneself. Paul passed them on the road, a big cigar in his mouth, and a look of annoyance on his haudsome face. Jean heard Satanella's silvery laugh, and flashed a look at her that showed no meek spirit. " Lucky dog that husband of yours. Mistress Jean ; he gets it all his own way with the women. ^' Jean did not answer, and he continued : " I hear we are to be treated to some theatricals to- morrow night. I suppose Lady Dandergard will conn- out strong as Lady Teazle." "Yes ; she is very clever, and very beautiful." *' But when you have said that, you have said all you can find to say in her favour; is it not so ? " " No; I think she has many good qualities, beside the virtue of being wife to one of the best and dearest men •alive." " Look at that gleam of light on the lake yonder, is it not beautiful ? And what a sky ! I wish we had twice as far to go ; driving is very enjoyable on such a night as this." But like all pleasant things, the drive came to an end, the quaint gables of Deepdane showed against the opal sky, and Paul lifted Jean out tenderly, telling her he wished to speak to her when she went to her room. Jean nodded, and turned to take a glove she had dropped from Bertie Drake. -e=^«-^|=l=§ir=5#B='=t>- -^ NOTICE.— This Work will be published every Wednesday. Orders should be given to vour Bookseller early. BONNIE JEAN. No. 8 ^- CHAPTER XXVIII. ATANELLA songlit her room iu an evil mood. Everyone was glad to get a wasli and some fresh clothes, free from dust. Jean had sent her maid, Maggie, away ; the girl liad a headache, and was glad to be spared to go out for a blow and a glimpse of her sweet- heart at the smithy. Jean was brushing her hair, her face fresh and bloom- ing from cold water ; a loose white wrapper covered her pretty form. She turned, brush in hand, as Paul entered and throw himself on a couch, saying : *' (Jome here, Jeaunie; I want you to say you forgive me." '" I have nothing to forgive," said Jean, coolly. She parted her hair carefully, then continued : " Of course, if you pref^n* Lady Dandergard's society to mine, it is natural that you should seek it." " But I do not. Confound the woman ! I wish she was at the bottom of the sea; she's spoilt the day for me." He caught Jean's gown, and drew her towards him. She pushed her hair from her face, and allowed him to draw her down beside him, and lay his hot head on her shoulder ; then one soft arm stole round his neck, aud he eagerly kissed her, saying : "You darling! I knew you would not keep cold to nie. You do not like to see me so miserable, do you, pet?" "I think you deserve to be miserable to-day, f(n' making me so. How hot your head is ; lie back on the cushion and let me send you to heaven." " Sending him to heaven " consisted of this process : First she lavishly bathed his head in some sweet perfume, -X BONNIE JEAN; OE; THE rOWEE OF LOVE. 171 tlien she blew gently upon his forehead till it was cool and painless. Paul liked to be petted, and Jean did not hasten over her task, till he said, lifting her from her knees : " I am tiring you, darling. What a selfish fellow I am ! I feel quite refreshed now. Kiss me, and I will lie still and watch you fix all this lovely hair upon this dear little wise head." Jean rose, saying : " I am awfully tired and sleepy, I must lock my door to-night. When I get over-tired I often walk in my sleep. Poor auntie had many a scare with me." "Yes, you cannot be too careful. The night I stayed in town I was so nervous about you. I think you ought to have your window barred, and always lock the door; you might get into an awkward fix. Hark ! there's the dinner-bell ; can I help you in any way ? " " No ; I can manage to get into this wonderful arrange- ment somehow, I dare say," said Jean, looking adijiiiungly at a heap of finery on the bed, a dinner-dress of silver tissue and pansies. Paul laughed, telling her not to get into that birdcage at the back ; then he went to his di-essing-room to curse his buttons, and tear his ties. When Jean went down she met Satanella on the stairs — Satanella in a cloudy dress of pale blue and passion-flowers. She was looking haggard and worn, and the sight of Jean's fresh young beauty annoyed her. The dinner went off fairly well, and afterwards there was some music and a few flirtations. The ladies retired early to bed, and the gentlemen went to the room where Satanella had first seen Jean in her own house. The men meant smoking and a gossip, they did not care about beauty-sleep. Satanella sat up in her own room, with a book, and some cigarettes and claret-cup. Jean got to bed as quickly as possible, and fell into a deep dreamless sleep. J%- 172 BONNIE jean; The liouso was very quiet, all the servants hntl reti od, and Satanclla threw open her window and listened to the sound of laughter that floated up from the room below, where the gentlemen were. The air was so still that she could distinguisli their voices, and heard Bertie Drake say : " Well, I'm off to bed. IVe had enough Nap for to- night. I guess Sir Duke will win the ' Kitty/ Good- night, old chappies." She heard the door open and shut, and Bertie's footsteps pass her door ; then she heard the sound of boots flying about, and then quiet again. Then, wanting a fresh book, she stole out in her soft slippers to go to the library. The long corridor was dimly lighted with globes of shaded light; the soft carpet deadened all sound ; down below the darkened hall looked like a gulf. Satanella had come to the top of the wide centre staircase and stood irresolute. Was it worth while to ])roceed ? The little lamp she carried made a circle of light about her as she stood. Suddenly her quick ear caught a sound ; she turned quickly, to see stealing along the long corridor, like a pale spirit of sleep, Jean. Satanella slipped back with a stifled cry. What could Paul's wife mean by prowling about at this unearthly hour without dressing-gown or slippers — just her lace- trimmed nightrobe to cover her ? Jean came quietly on, noiselessly as a white dove sails across the sky. As she neared Satanella she could see she was walking in her sleep ; she seemed to be vaguely feeling her way in a lost, purposeless manner. An evil smile crossed Satanella's face. How easy to end the life of this hated rival by pushing her down into the dark hall below. Who could tell what cruel hand sent her to her doom ? Who need know but that, wandering in her sleep, she had fallen to the mosaic floor below ? Satanella pictured her lying there stark and still in the pure fresh beauty of her girlhood. ^ ^ OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 1 ~3 Jean was close upon her now, sigliing as softly as the summer wiud. Satanella's soft cruel hand stole out to her stealthily. Jean shrank not from that soft warm clasp of a hand that would have hurled her to her death. Suddeuly a thought all evil came to Satanella. She would lead Jean to Bertie Drake's door, open it, and gently compel her to enter, thus causing a scandal, for even if Jean woke at once and left him, the situation would be compromising. Quick as thought she carried out her cruel idea, then fled to her room to await events with what patience she could. . 1 1 1 i.-ii Dr. Drake, who had been reading m bed, and still burnt his light, saw the door open noiselessly. He Avas half asleep, and a feeling of awe crept dully over him as he saw the slim white-robed figure enter and pause before the wardrobe, where she stood reflected in the dim light. i i i A patch of moonlight lay on the floor, and bathed her feet in silvery radiance. Bertie's pulse quickened. Here in his very bed-chamber, at this quiet midnight hour, stood his heart's desire, beautiful as a fair white lily, pure as unsullied snow. A fierce temptation fought with his nobler instincts ; he knew Jean was unconscious of the risk she ran, for, years before, he had seen her steal out to her favourite swing between two apple-trees, and Aunt Pridie had followed, and between them they had brought her back safely, without rousing her from sleep. The memory of her innocent childhood came like a reproach ; his heart softened, he heard, like an augel whisper, the voice of his soul that said: "Take the better part, save honour, save her pain." He crept hastily out of bed, put on his dressing-gown and slippers, and looking hastily round to see Jean ran no danger, noiselessly left the room, locking the door behind him. . His heart thumped against his side, he felt sick Avitli anxiety ; had she been missed ? Quickly going down to the room where the gentlemen still played cards, he said to Paul : 174 BONN' IE JEAN; " I say, old fellow, pour me out a glass of brandy ; I am awfully seedy. I've had a spasm/' Paul rose, all concern and kindness ; and as lie passed tlie glass, Bertie whispered : " Come with me, Martinet. Pretend you want to see me safely to my room. I want to speak to you alone." Paul looked surprised, but said lightly : " Come along, old chap ; I'll see you safe. Take the brandy with you. You may need it." Bertie took Paul's arm, and amid murmurs of sym- pathy left the room. Directly they were out of earshot Bertie said in a troubled voice : " I suppose you know your wife is a somnambulist ? " "Yes, yes — speak, man ! Surely no harm has come to her, poor darling ? " " No harm ; but she is in my room, and hang me if I know how to get her out without scandal." " In your room ? The deuce she is ! What a dilemma ! What a blessing everyone is out of the way. I'll carry her back to her bed. She must not know of this ; she would die of shame. I thought she was getting over these attacks. Did you know she walked in her sleep before to-night ? " " Rather ; I have found her as a child asleep on the damp grass, with her snug bed deserted. I think Miss Pridie was afraid she would come to some harm, and so insisted that she should marry, and have some one to guard her." " You keep a bright look-out, Drake, while I go in. I should not like anyone to know of this." " Of course not, though it is easily explained. I should have taken her back to her room myself, but was afraid some one might see and misunderstand." " I shall never forget your kindness, old boy. I am more grateful than words can express." Paul crept quietly into the room ; not a sound was there but the even breathing of one in deep and dream- less sleep. Jean lay on the bed, one pretty dimpled arm under her flushed cheek, her tumbled hair falling about her like moss round a buddinsr rose. OK, THE POWER OF LOVE. 175 As Paul lifted her, she murmured his name fondly, and he laid his cheek against hers, saying, " My darling." At the door Drake checked him, saying : " Hush ! not yet ; one of the doors moved." Then a second later he whispered : "Quick — now ! " and Paul, bearing his lovely burden, hastily left the shelter of the room, and strode rapidly towards his own. Satanella, peeping upon them, ground her teeth, and cursed Bertie's cowardly stupidity. A second later she saw Paul come out, shake hands warmly with Bertie, and then return to his wife's room. Satanella, in a fury, paced her room, and felt there was nothing she would not do to make Jean suffer. -?^ CHAPTER XXIX. HE nig-lit after Jeau's escapade, Bertie was called away on business, and Dr. Granger and Hagar arrived at Deepdaue. Hagar was attired in quakerish simplicity, but in garments suited to her position. Jean, grateful for her care of her in her illness, had determined to make her enjoy her holiday, so she had given her a suite of rooms to herself, filled them with books, music, and beautiful flowers, and gave her to understand she might keep her room when she chose. The day the new guests arrived. Sir Duke informed Paul he had made him executor of his will, and Paul, not liking the idea, asked him to alter it; but Sir Duke spoke so eloquently of his faith in him, that Paul, think- ing Duke might outlive him, troubled no more about it, till Dr. Granger told him Sir Duke was suffering with heart-disease, and not likely to be long-lived. Just now Paul was busy, trying his hand as a play- wright, and much of his time was passed in his study. Satanella^s experience as an actress made her sug- gestions valuable to him, so that she had an excuse to spend much of her time with him. He was feverishly anxious about this play ; he longed to show Jean's friends she had not stooped very low in marrying an actor. Satanella had the sense to see that PauFs passion for her had abated, yet he still cherished a great regard for her talents, and a firm belief in her opinion, so she enacted for the time the role of the fair penitent. Jean saw the growing intimacy with a sad heart- sinking; she longed for the time when her husband Avould be left to her again; but as yet he would not hear of Sir Duke's departure, and Sir Duke was content to stay, for Satanella seemed more amiable and G'a BONNIE JEAN; OB, THE POWER OP LOVE. 177 affectionate to him here, and ho hoped it was the home iutluence. Dr. Granger was charmed by the beauty of UeepdanOj and determined not to leave Jean's side till her dan- gerous rival had gone. He saw the risk Paul ran of being overcome by the old glamourio, and warned him of his danger ; but Paul laughed at his warning, saying his love for Jeannie made him proof against all other charms. Poor Jean ! Her heart was torn with cruel anxiety ; it made her Avretched and jealous to see Paul so often with Satanella; she knew some bad end would come of it, and her heart sank at the thought. She formed wild plans of lessening the evil influence that she saw surrounding the heart of her home. Just at this time, too. Sir Duke was called away to attend the sick-bed of an only brother. He seemed very reluctant to go, and Paul urged him to leave Mabel behind, saying it would be dull for her in town alone, and she certainly would be out of place as a stranger in his brother's house. Sir Duke, when alone with Satanella, took her in his arm.^, and said with yearning tenderness : " It grieves me to leave you, ma belle, but I suppose you will be just as happy without me. Do not quite forget that you belong to me; I feel as though I were looking my last upon the dearest face in all the world to me." He pushed the soft hair from her forehead and looked yearningly into the heaven of her eyes ; saint or sinner, slie was his heart's dearest, and he was leaving her before the honeymoon had really waned, to travel a distance, and his return was uncertain. Satanella, softened by his tenderness, put her arms about his neck and kissed him, for the first time since their marriage, of her free will. Long afterwards, in times of loneliness and heart- sickness, Satanella remembered his look of grateful love, and the fond glad words that rewarded that caress ; yet Avhen he was gone she gave a sigh of satisfaction and went straight to Paul, to help him with the play that was now a bond of union between them. ^- m 178 BONNIE JEAN ; It was Jean who watclied Sir Duke away with real regret; she knew that Satanella would now be more than ever PauFs shadow, and she began to despair of ever separating Paul from his past, and her young heart grew heavy with its load of disappointment and dread. What to her was her beautiful home, her youth, her beauty, since Paul found other sights more fair than her princely possessions and winsome self ? Strange to say, the more distant seemed the prospect of winning his love, the more desirable did it appear to her. One thing she was determined on, and that was, that when once Satanella left Deepdane, she should never darken its doors again. Dr. John saw the sweet face of Bonnie Jean sadden, her step grow listless, with bitter resentment. He would have left Deepdane before, but feared to leave the woman he loved with such unselfish devotion to the mercy of Satanella. He saw below the surface, and knew the danger that lurked in this seemingly innocent friendship. He did not suspect Paul of evil intention, but he knew Satanella loved him with reckless passion, and he feared her power over him would return and ruin his life. Hagar, silent as a woman of stone, saw with her mas- ter's eyes ; the domestic drama was clear to her, but she believed, with the firmest faith, in Paul — all her mistrust was directed to Satanella. Jean had endeared herself to this strange woman to such a degree that she would have gone through fire and water to serve her. Sir Duke had left Deepdane two days when Dr. John was summoned home on a matter of life and death. Hagar prepared to accompany him, when he checked her, saying earnestly : " You will serve me best, Hagar, by remaining here till I return. I leave Mrs. Martinet in your charge. Pemember, yuu are on guard; should anything occur to alarm you, should she be menaced by any dan- ger, send for me, and, until I come, stand between her and harm, for my sake." OEj THE POWER OF LOVE. 170 He spoke so earnestly, pressing' both Hagnr's cold hands in his, that she was moved out of herself to sjjeak her sympathy with Jean. When he was going, she said stoutly : "Leave our dear little friend to me, master; those who would harm her must strike through ine. I am neither weak nor simple; trust me to guard her as my life." " Thanks, Hagar ; now I can go in peace, for the thought of that poor gir]_, alone and in trouble, would have unnerved me wretchedly." Hagar's eyes grew wistful; laying a hand on his shoulder she looked into his eyes with a deep questioning- gaze. " Master, forgive me if I offend, Lut I must speak, or my heart will burst. Do vou love Paul Martinet's wife ? " Dr. John flushed up hotly, then looking into her eyes unflinchingly, said : "Hagar, I confess I have felt more than a rightful interest in her; she is so sweet, so true, so lovable, but this fever has fled. I am ovit of danger — quite cured, in fact. Do not fear for me; my greatest safeguard is yourself, my gii'l." He smiled so kindly into her anxious eyes, that she felt her heart leap gladly, and a beautiful flush brightened her sallow face into a faint reflection of its old loveliness. A comely woman she looked, standing in the sunlight, shading her eyes Avith her hand, her slim tall figure thrown into bold relief by a background of cloudless sky. Dr. John carried the memoiy of her away in his eyes. Somehow, Hagar, as he saw her now, seemed a new woman, who was the substance of that shadow that had haunted him with unrequited love so long. Had Jean awakened his heart for the good of another ? Would Hagar be righted at last ? Who could tell ? Back in his bare unlovely home, he misa^ed Hagar more than he could have believed possible; her slow soft foot- n- ^ ^ 180 BONNIE JEAN ; steps echoed througli liis memory, bringing back thoughts of the vanished yearSj during which she had hovered about him, a ministering spirit, eager to smooth his path and promote his fortune. After Jean's beautiful home, his ugly empty house seemed intolerable. He began to see that hrs had been a buried life, barren of all that makes existence desirable. He knew he could leave it at once, and buy a better; or — a more sensible task — beautify this one until not a sign of its emptiness remained. He pictured Hagar moving about the now empty rooms as she looked at Deepdane ; he felt he had been unjust to let her sacrifice herself to him so long. He wished he could recompense her for all she had suffered on his account ; he longed to see her grow young again. He hoped she yet might blossom out afresh to a more bright and perfect womanhood. Visions of possible happiness cheered his heart. He had been blind and insensible long enough to his own interest and hers. "'Tis never too late to mend," he told himself hope- fully, as he ate his lonely supper in the bare kitchen that Hagar had left so neat and clean. Every inanimate thing about his home spoke of her. He never imagined he could miss her till she was gone ; now he knew her value. His heart had been shut out from human sympathy so long that the mere thought of loving looks, caressing words, and constant and affectionate companionship set his heart to a new tune. Why should his life for ever remain a wilderness of wasted years ? His unfortunate wife's death was no fault of his. He had mourned her truly, and even now her image was recalled with keen regret. The past could not be recalled. All the best years of his life had been passed in sorrow and useless self-sui'render. Now ho would begin afresh; ho would live at last in the fullest, ti-uest sense of the word. With this t]jiouglit bringing a pleasant look into his haggard face, Dr. John fell asleep for the first time »- OK, THE POWER OP LOVE, 181 alone in liis desolate house ; for home, for the first time he realised it could not be. A few days later he had a letter from Hagar ; he had not seen her handwriting for years. He opened it with anxiety. It was rather cold and formal, but he read between the lines, and knew she dared not allow herself to write naturally, for fear her heart would speak. The letter contained startling- news. Satanella was a widow. Sir Duke had met with an accident — fallen from his horse in a fit, and died immediately. Paul had gone at once to look after Satanella's interests. She professed to be overcome by grief, knocked up by the shock — in fact, acted the part of a disconsolate widow to perfection. Jean seemed in bad health and out of heart, and had brightened up at thought of seeing her friend. Dr. John, soon. Hagar said no word of herself, but gave him good counsel as to take good care of himself. She said Jean seemed falling into confirmed ill-health. Dr. John pondered over this news long and stead- fastly ; it was the worst possible news, considering Jean^s interest. Dr. John wished he could go to her at once ; he hoped she would get rid of Satanella. Freed from her husband she was more than ever dangerous, and her power over Paul more to be feared than ever. " She will bring misery upon poor Bonnie Jean," thought Dr. John, sorrowfully, and he little knew how great the misery, how deep the wrong, or how grave the consequences, Satanella's power would be. That night he dreamt he saw Satanella strewing flowers on Jean's coffin, and the lilies were stained witli blood that came from Satanella's hands. CHAPTER XXX. HEN Dr. John arrived at Deepclaiie^ lie found I Jean looking very ill ; her spirit seemed oppressed by a feeling- of hopelessness. I Satanella^ as beautiful in widow^'s weeds as !1 she had been as a bride, kept much to her own rooms; she knew that now Paul was away she had no friend in the household, even the servants mistrusted her, and served her grudgingly. But Satanella did not allow this to trouble her ; she was under Paul's roof, Paul was all sympathy and friendliness ; her influence, thanks to his literary work, grew daily ; she was making herself indispensable to him, had schemed to increase her power by persuading him to take a theatre with her, to share risk, profit, and honour. The idea enchanted Paul, but as yet he had not ventured to broach the subject to Jean, though he did not anticipate much opposition; she had grown strangely listless of late, seemed indifferent to every- thing. The fact was she was in ill health; and had Paul but known the cause he would have given her all the increased care and love her state needed ; but he did not know the cause and felt impatient with her, and aggrieved that she showed so little interest in his work. Satanella^s ready help and flattering approval touched his masculine vanity ; manlike, he was too dense to look below the surface and see SatanelWs deep-laid scheme for Jeannie's downfall. Poor Jean, she felt a power for evil fighting against her in her own home; and, to her own great sorrow, felt that she was powerless to avert the fate fast closing in upon her. She loved Paul with all her heart and soul, but seemed cold to him, simply because she did not believe he cared to Avin her love ; sometimes she would kneel and pray that God would succour her. -X BONNIE JEAN; OR^ TUE POWER OF LOVE. 183 raise her young life from the Dead Sea ashes into which it had fallen. Hagar had become a great help and comfort to Jean, and now Dr. John had come as well, Jean felt less lonely and more safe. The first night he was with them again he persuaded Jean to put a shawl over her head and come out into the moonlight. A spell of silence seemed to be upon all things ; the heavy air was laden with sweet perfumes ; the flowers hung their heads in drowsy beauty. " We shall have a storm, I fear,'' said Jean ; the weight of silence seemed to weigh down her heart. She paused by a rustic summer-house that stood on the margin of a deep clear lake, w^iich was shaded with Avater-lilies ; a rustic bridge spanned the narrowest part of the water, and led into a wilderness of fruit trees. " Shall we go in ? I know you are afraid of storms, Mrs. Martinet." " The storm will not come yet," said Jean, lifting her sad eyes to the fast darkening sky; "and the air is cooler here by the water." " But I am afraid you will take cold if you get wet, and you have double cause to care for your health now." He spoke with such kind significance, that Jean flashed up and said : " Hagar has told you." " Yes ; and it was glorious news, for I knew the sense of increased responsibility and hope would give you strength and courage." " God knows I need both now," said Jean, leaning over the bridge, and looking down into the still lake with tear-dimmed eyes. Dr. John put out a strong kind hand, and clasped it over Jean's, saying tenderly : " Courage, little woman ; all will be well in the end. Does not hope whisper of bi'ighter days ? " "^ Not yet ; everything seems hopeless, undesirable, and life itself seems an unvalued blessing." '*' Ah, you are young- ; experience teaches wisdom ; some day you will see things difi^ercntly. All you want" ^ va 184 BONNIE JEAN; is plenty of courage to hold your own ; you think you cannot live without love, because you think of only one love that it seems hard to keep. There are other bless- ings — the love of a child for its mother, the true deep love of God, the regard of friends, for 'friendship is love Avithout its wings,' You will yet hold undivided empire over your husband's heart, only keep cheerful and brave ; men hate a grievous spirit, they love bright looks, sweet smiles, and kindly words." " Then why do they kill the brightness, sweetness, kindness, they would prize ? " " Heaven only knows, dear ; men are queer mortals, full of quaint contradictions, but most of them come round to the purest and best about them in time, only no woman or wife should allow an evil influence to canker the heart she loves dearer than life. Why do you stand aloof and allow Lady Dandergard to till your place ? " " I cannot help myself ; Heaven pity me ! " " Heaven helps those who help themselves, little woman, and if I were in your place, I should shift that siren of a Satanella as soon as you decently can." " I will j Paul must choose between us." " Nonsense ! he has no choice ; do not suggest such an absurdity. The mere notion puts her on a par with you ; she is as far beneath you as the earth is beneath heaven. She has gained an ascendency over Paul by flattery ; she is no fool, she understands him ; he possesses untried talent for authorship, and believes she inspires him by her contidence in his power ; you, on the contrary, are cold, indifferent to his ambition, which I believe has gained strength simply by a desire to be worthy of you; he wants you to be proud of him. Every man has his merit and his -weakness ; vanity, more or less, moves all of us; remember too, ' none but an author knows an author's cares, or fancy's fondness for the child she bears.' It must be galling to find one's nearest and dearest grossly neglectful of one's most sensitive feelings; it shuts up the ■ flood-gates of the heart, kills love's closest tie of sweet sympathy." -X. ^^ ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 185 ''But while Paul has Lady Daudergard's interest, confidence^ SA'mpathy, he finds no use, no need of mine.'' "Nonsense ! your approving smile is worth the whole soul of Satanella to Paul, but a man cannot starve if the nectar of the gods — the wine of life, love — is denied ; he must solace his thirsty soul with the murky water of a lesser life. Hark ! there is the first warning of the storm. We shall have a run for it." He took Jean's hand and ran across the damp grass to the house. On the threshold he paused for Avant of breath, and looked at Jean ; she was flushed with un- usual exercise, her ruddy lips apart, her cheeks dimpled with smiles; her hair had blown about her face, she looked a lovely, dearly desirable darling, a woman to delight a man with her many moods. A few rain-drops glistened on her tumbled head like devv-^-drops on a moss-rose. Satanella, driven from her room by a desire for companionship, met her pretty hostess on the stairs, and envied her her bright younf looks, and flattered herself not a little with the thought that she could keep Paul's interest in spite of his youno- wife's charms. In the midst of a violent storm Paul returned ; Satan- ella was the first to greet him, but he put her almost rudely aside to draw Jeannie to his arms ; somethino- changed in her looks attracted him, a yearning look in her bright soft eyes, a grieved quiver of her ripe young lips. " My darling, have you missed me ? " " Yes, Paul ; oh, so much." ''And you are glad I have come home ? " " Need you ask ? " " No, sweet wife, I see it in your eyes." He held her hand and went to his dressing-room ; drawing her in and closing the door, he said anxiously : " Have you been ill since I left 3"ou, Jean ? " "No," with a bright blush; "I shall be quite well now you have returned." Paul drew her into his arms, and leant his cheek against hers, saying, oh, so lovingly : ^ 186 BONNIE JEAN ; OR, THE POWEE OF LOVE. " Jeannie, Dr. John wrote and said he believed you had news for me. Is it true ? " Jean hid her face and whispered, " Yes." Paul kissed her gently with a sort of reverent awe, and tried to say lightly : "' How could you be so naughty as to keep such a secret from the one next to yourself it most con- cerned ? " "I did not think you would feel interested." "What a libel ! am I a man or a monster ? " " Take off your wet ccat, Paul." " Get me another then, sweet mistress mine." " Shall I call Peters ? " '•' No; it is your duty to attend to me. Am I not your master ? " " Yes ; and see how cleverly I can help you. Oh, Paul, I wish there were just you and I alone to-night." " So do I, pet ; company^s a nuisance." '^''Come into my room and have some coffee, Paul. I'll go and see to it." She slipped away with a shy sweet smile, and Paul, left alone, looked after her with self-reproach. "How could I think she was indifferent tome? Why, she's the sweetest wife in the world. Confound Sataii- ella^s subtle suggestions ! why was I fool enough to lis- ten to them ? There can be no truth in what she says ; I have been a fool to listen to her so long; she is a modern Delilah, 'pon my soul. I wish poor Duke had not hampered me with such a charge; I expect Satanella suggested it. I believe the 'Bonville' a good spec. I must talk to Jean about it.'^ Here Paul's thoughts flew to his hobby — the theatre —and he busied himself with pictures of future fame. CHAPTER XXXI. ^^^^ OME will be a dull place to you after your L-^^'Ki stay here, Hagar/' fjij^liM Dr. Joliu was standing by an open ^^^pij window in the breakfast-room at Deep- ■"- dane. The morning sunshine streamed in, Avith the light breeze laden with the scent of flowers. jHagar looked up from her work, some lacey trifle for Jean, and said cheerfully : "I am ready to return when you want me, sir." " Ready to lay aside these dainty garments, and re- sume your coarse apparel and your dull domestic duties —a life lonely and cheerless, in an unlovely home ? " "A home 'where one's heart is is never unlovely. Labour that is honest and useful is never without a certain charm. Dress does not give pleasure to a strong mind, except such pleasure as is derived from another's approval. 1 am ready to take up my life where it left off. The pleasant break this visit has been wnll not spoil me. I dedicated my life to your service long ago, and have never repented of my bargain." " Yet I have been a hard, ungrateful master to you, Hagar." " No ; you have been just, I deserved less at your hands." " Hagar, I have been a blind fool to let you sacrifice yourself to me so long. You are still young and hand- some ; the future is full of possibilities for you. I break your bondage, I set you free ; your servitude is ended henceforth. Model your life after your own heart; forget the past ; redeem your youth ; be happy, and live as if love for me had never poisoned your life." Dr. John's renunciation was sincere, though his heart yearned for her as life's best gift. He feared to take -^ 188 BONNIE jean; her lest tlie past should rise up a barrier between them and happiness. He thought if he left her free she would find peace and pleasant living without him, but the wild terror of her eyes, the sudden pallor of her fine face, the mute entreaty of her outstretched hands, undeceived him. She was shaking as with an ague, emotion stopped her speech. " How have I failed in my self-imposed duty i is my presence a blot upon your life ? Have you found a nearer and dearer friend to share your life ? Why am I cast away, why made an outcast ? " The words of agony leapt at last from her heart, this passionate protest was not the manner of an indifferent woman. . '' Am I in the way, John ? Oh, what shall I do with' my life if it is useless to you ? " . " Hagar, you misunderstand me ; it is for your sake alone that 1 would end your servitude ; your life is wasted, shut out from the world with me." " You are my world ; what care I for life unless it be passed in your service ? " " There is one way that you could serve me, Hagar ; be my wife, let us begin afresh. Say you will marry me." "No, no; you say this out of pity, you would repent. Do not tempt me, the shadow of your dead wife stands between us like a wall of ice; jealousy of me sent her to her death. Do not deceive yourself, John; you would soon hate me if I presumed to fill her place." " But, Hagar, I love you, I have need of you. Why wreck both our lives by such a vain and foolish senti- ment. If in the next life, where the secrets of all heart3 are laid bare, my poor dead darling cannot see her mistaken folly, there is no justice in heaven. While she lived I loved her, and was a true and faithful husband. I have mourned her long and honestly, I shall never cease to regret her and the mistaken past; but why waste all one's life on a vain sorrow ? Life is too short for perpetual pain. Let us be happy together in -^ OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 189 a new bright borne, for the sake of llic old love tliat made life so beautiful to us years ago." Dp. John had taken Hagar's quiverlug hands, and looked long and yearningly into her dark eyes. She shrank back from him, afraid of her own delight ! the rapture his words had made in her heart brought a radiant gladness to her looks ; as the sunlight brightens the desolate ice-bound sea, so did his words glorify with momentary brightness her barren, frozen life. Dr. John saw the yielding in her looks, and hastily throwing his arms about her, kissed her passionately upon her lips, her eyes, her hair. ^ _ She clung to him joyfvally, passive as a babe m its mother's arms; then with a sigh, as though saying farewell to her chance of joy, drew herself out of his arms, saying entreatingly : "Have pity upon my weakness, John; I dare not yield to this temptation." " Hagar, you are hard and cruel ; loving mc, how can you cut short my hope of happiness ? " "Because I believe I am acting for your good, darling. I would gladly die if my valueless life could be a useful sacrifice. If I consented, you would soon be sorry ; yet I am grateful to the feeling that prompted your proposal." " I see you do not believe in the sincerity of my love. Try me, Hagar ; I can be patient if my reward is sure ; what can I do to win you ? " " Wait till Jean's need of me is over ; make the best of your hfe without me ; do your best and noblest in the world ; try to forget me, and if you succeed your silence will speak for you, and I shall trouble you no more." .^"You do me a cruel injustice, Hagar, yet I submit; I will ask you again when Jean's need of you is over. I do not wish to be selfish; I have had your un- grudging goodness to myself so long, it wore liard if I could not spare a little of it to comfort that poor child. "Ah, here she is. Good morning. Mistress Jean, I am glad to see the storm did not drive away your roses." Jean smiled brightly, and sat down to the table, gathering her soft white draperies about her; as she sat, tVi* X -X 190 BONNIE JEAN; Paul came beliind her, pulled back her head, and im- pressed a kiss on her lips, laying a bunch of dewy roses under her chin. Just then Satanella entered in her flowiug sable garments. Her eyes met Paul's with such keen sorrow that he, in a flutter of self-reproach, handed her a chair, feeling he had been cruel to flourish his connubial bliss before the poor bereaved woman whom he knew loved him. Jean saw him submissive beneath the reproach of Satanella's eyes with hot anger in her heart. How dared he feel ashamed of caring for his lawful wife because of this white widow ? Satanella sat silent as a marble image of grief, and her presence oppressed the others wretchedly. Dr. John sighed impatiently, the meal would have been so bright Avithout this woman's gloomy presence. He hated to see Bonnie Jean's sweet smile leave her fair face. He determined to speak to Paul that very morning, but when he went to the study a couple of hours later, he found Satanella copying MS. for him, and Paul flushed and excited by the triumph of authorship. Nothing would do but Dr. John must hear an act read splendidly by the beautiful actress, and listen to their plans for taking the Bonville Theatre. The play was really good, and their plans about the theatre feasible enough. Dr. John hated to be a wet blanket, so he held his peace, and waited for a more favourable opportunity to urge upon Paul the advisability of putting Satanella out of his life, and looking at home for happiness. He left them in silence, and sought Hagar to consult with her how best to serve Jean. " Jean must assert herself, she must make Lady Dandergard understand her presence is an intrusion. Of course this will be difiicult, considering the woman's recent trouble, and it will not be an easy task to oust her, for she can be extremely dense when it suits her to be so ; but Jean owes it to herself to stand between Paul and temptation. The man is not worthy her regard; s?- OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 191 indeed, few men are Avortliy a good woman's best and teuderest feelings. This theatrical craze will keep Lady Dandorgard and Paul together. My only hope is that, like most partners in business, they will soon quarrel, and become the deadliest enemies. Hark ! here comes Jean." Jean came in with her arms full of lovely sweet- scented flowers. " I am going to put some of them in Paul's study ; it smelt quite stuffy this morning. Paul and Lady Dandergard smoke all day long, and declare it assists study, which is all stuff, you know — it must muddle their brains." Some of the flowers fell to Jean's feet. She hastily made a bag of her skirts, and Dr. John filled it with flowers. He thought he had never seen her look so pretty as she did with the sunshine shimmering about her. He followed her across the cool, shaded hall, till she entered the study. As he threw the door open for her, a startling scene met their perplexed gaze. Paul stern and cold, with a look of anger in his eyes, stood directly facing them. He was saying in a pained tone : '•'Mab, you will drive me mad. Why tempt me to wrong my wife, myself, and, most of all, you ? " Satanella crouched at his feet, her blonde head bowed low, her white hands clenched as though in mortal agony. The tiny widow's cap she wore usually had fallen to the ground, her heavy crape skirts made a midnight about her wondei'ful loveliness. Tears of anguish fell on her heaving breast as she gasped : " Cruel, cruel ! you break my heart, and yet you loved me once." Here Paul's eyes, full of abashed misery, met the fair picture framed in the doorway with a background of tall green palms, and the pained perplexed face of Dr. John, who said entreat ingly : "Come away, for God's sake, Mrs. Martinet." 102 BONNIE JEAN: OV., THE POWER OF LOVE. "No, I will not, I have been duped long enoug'li, I insist upon an explanation. Paul, what is the meaning of this scene ? " Dr. John followed her in quietly, closing the door behind him. Satanella, dashing her tears aside, rose with an exultant little laugh, saying : " Paul," mon ami, what a compliment ; your wife thought it all real. What an appreciative audience. 1 feel flattered. Dr. Granger, why do you look so shocked ? Don't you know we were only acting, re- hearsing a scene just to see the force of it ? Paul declared I could not fit the part, and I wanted to show him his mistake. Come, Paul, confess you are pleased with me." Paul's eyes were fixed on Jean's face, which was white as death, with a strange glitter in her golden- brown eyes. Jean stood erect, in utter loneliness and misery. " Hush, Paul, do not lie to me, I can see the truth in your eyes. I suppose I deserve this for tempting you to sell yourself into a loveless bondage for the sake of my accursed money, but this treachery is cruel. I trusted, had faith in your honour. Hush ! for God's sake do not tell me an untruth ; I could not bear that from you. I know all now; I do not blame you; I will not reproach you. You had no love to give, yet you might have kept your promise. Take that woman away, her presence under this roof is an insult to me, and. the good soul who owned it before me. The world is wide enough for you to keep your sin out of my sight. I never imagined you would allow the same home to shelter your wife and your mistress. All is over between us from to-day. For the sake of our unborn child I will bear your name, hide my despair, my disgrace from the world, but there can be no tie between us after this ; such unnatural treachery would kill trust in a saint." The excitement suddenly left Jean's face, she stretched out her arms blindly, the flowers making a paradise of sweets about her feet. NOTICE.-This Work will he publis'ied every Wednesday. Orders should be given to your Bookseller early. i^ BONNIE JEAN. No. 9. 194 BONNIE JEANj Paul sprang to lier side_, and clasping lier closely, said hoarsely : " My darling, my own dear little wife^ listen to me. This is a cruel mistake, I love jou, and you only in all the world. There is nothing but friendship between Mabel and I ; I swear by the holy name of our Creatoi-, who, seeing the secrets of all hearts, will acquit me of the vile charge you would bring against me. I am not quite villain enough to betray your generous trust, nor ungrateful enough to reward your love with base treachery ! " Jean lay passive on his heart; her life seemed to have suddenly stood still. His words and the pro- tecting hold of his strong arms reassured her, in spite of herself and the mad jealousy that made such stormy misery in her heart. " Speak to her, Mabel ; assure her of the truth of what I say." " I have spoken, told her we were only acting ; what more can I say than the simple truth ? 'Tis clear enough no man dare disown me if I have a hold upon him. I am sorry I am here ; ^tis hard to hear such serious accusations in the first flush of my bitter bereavement. I will leave you. Doctor, I am upset. May I trouble you to get me some wine ? Mrs. Martinet, I regret that I have innocently incurred your mjstrust, your displeasure — I will not vex you by my presence. Lad}^ Lyston has kindly invited me to spend a month with her at Lausanne ; I shall accept her invi- tation at once ; she at least can credit me with virtue. I only trust that if ever j^ou are left alone in life you may never be so cruelly misjudged as I now am. Good- bye, old friend ; do not quite forget your comrade.'^ Satanella left the room, followed by Dr. John, and husband and wife were alone. What passed between Paul and Jean is better imagined than described; enough that Paul, by the subtle eloquence of love and earnestness, convinced Jean that she had been unjust in her conjectures. Happy and penitent, Jean an hour later sent Paul to apologise to their guest for her outburst of anger, and % OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 195 Satanella accepted the apology and decided to remain at Deepdane a little longer. Dr. John groaned with disappointment when he heard the news, yet after the agony Jean had passed through in the morning, he had not the heart to shake the foundation of her false security. So events were left to take their course, and Jean lost the golden opportunity of saving herself misery, and her husband remorse. A deceitful calm reigned at Deepdane for some time. Paul had persuaded Jean's lawyer to advance the money to take the Bonville, and Jean had promised to go to London for a month to help Paul in the business arrangements. Paul could not bear her out of his sight, they were like a pair of young lovers. Satanella looked on Avith smouldering anger in her heart. Paul had repulsed her in silence, and was now genuinely devoted to his girl-wife, while she, Satanella, suffered all the torments of baffled hate, disappointed passion, and unrequited love. So intense, so masterful was this madness becoming, that Satanella could not tear herself from the torment of watching PauFs love for his darling increase daily as she needed his care more. Very lonely and heart-sick was Satanella. Oh, how she mourned Paul's marriage ! If he had been free, and she now rich and willing to be his wife, how bright the future, how hopeful the present. She nursed this hatred till it became a madness in her, increased by the idea that Paul did not encourage her intimacy with his wife — the fact was, he did not like Jean to meet the people Satanella most affected. Sophy Shaddock, who had been divorced from her husband, was living with Satanella at Park Lane ; they met Paul daily at the theatre, he was always bright and jolly, and answered their enquiries about Jean with pride, went into society a great deal, was highly thought r 196 BONNIE jean; of, and was justly proud of his wife's spotless repu- tation, and the social success they both enjoyed. Time sped on rapid wings ; the Bonville had proved a marked success; Paul was enraptured, Sophy Shad- dock, who had been given the role of heroine till Satanella's term of mourning had expired, was trium- phant. Christmas came, and in the snow and sleet Jeannie went back to Deepdane. She wished to spend the holiday time at home. Paul was to go backwards and forwards, when necessary, to attend to the business of the theatre. Jean was learning to trust him sincerely, and was looking quite bright and cheerful. Hagar still stayed with her ; and Dr. John -was to come to them at Christmas for a week. Hagar's heart grew light at thought of seeing her master again ; his beautiful letters had been a great comfort to her during their separation ; and he had been very busy preparing the home for the reception of its mistress, for he was sure Hagar would come to him when Jean^s need of her was past. The cold weather tried Jean dreadfully; she had a troublesome cough, and looked languid and ill. Paul was very anxious about her; his tender care made it quite a pleasure to be ill, Jean said. It was Christmas Eve, and Jean looked out on the drifting snow anxiously. Paul was late, he had already missed one train. She wondered what detained him ; the drawing-room was bright and warm, a strong contrast to the dull scene without. Hagar sat in a low chair by the fire, making some bead mats ; the bright beads glistened in the fireglow. She was looking extremely well in her close-fitting brown silk dress, with ruffles of old lace. She kept looking up from her work to Jean, whose delicate beauty was well set off by a rich dress of myrtle velvet, with dull gold jewellery. " Mr. Martinet is late." OR; THE POWER OF LOVE. 197 "He is, indeed ; I cannot think wliat can detain him to-night of all others/' said Jean. Just then a footman brought her a telegram from Paul, which said : "Lady Daudergard's house has been burnt to the ground ; she will return with me unless you wire to the contrary." Jean stood silent a second, then crossed to Hagar's side and said : " Read this ; I cannot refuse to receive her under the circumstances, and at such a season.'^ Hagar's heavy brows lowered as she read it, and she crushed the paper impatiently. " How annoying, but I suppose she must come." " Yes, I will wire a welcome. Heigho ! how delight- fully rude I could be if I were not a lady." " Anyone would think she had a fire on purpose to make an excuse to intrude upon us. Much peace and goodwill we shall get with that element of discord among us ! I suppose they will catch the next train, and so we had better dine, dear." Jean took Hagar's arm, and they went to the dining- room together. It was a dull meal, both were too disappointed to eat. Hagar had hoped Dr. John would have arrived before this, and Jean was uneasy about Satanella. An hour later the sound of wheels roused Jean from a reverie. She hastened out into the Avide hall; the door was open, great gusts of wind and sleet blew in, and with them, leaning on Paul's arm, came Satanella, arrayed in sables that would have been the envy of a Russian princess. Her face was very pale, and Paul seemed anxious to spare her fatigue, bidding her lean upon him. Jean welcomed Mabel coldly, but her face lighted up with a loving smile as she turned to Paul, her pretty lips uplifted for a kiss. " Come in out of the cold, my darling," he said, putting an arm round her, and drawing her into the drawing-room. i5 198 BONNIE JEAN; Satanella sank into a cliair and drew lier long gloves off her chill hands; she then knelt down by the fire, and held out her pink palms to the blaze. • Jean, looking at Paul, said anxiously : " You are hurt, darling. How ill you look. What is the matter with your arm ? '^ " It is broken, Mrs. Martinet. Paul, like the hero he is, rescued me from a dreadful death, and in doing so injured his arm. Oh, it was awful ; I was never so frightened in my life.^' Jean pressed her soft lips to the tips of Paul's fingers, and the splintered arm, and said : " How did it happen, Paul ; and how came you there ?" Jean fancied Satanella flashed an exultant look at her, as Paul answered reluctantly : " I returned home with Lady Dandergard after the play yesterday, to meet some old chums. We stayed up late, playing ' Nap.' Sophy and Merrick were there, and others you know, and we kept the game up awfully late, so Lady Dandergard gave us a night's lodging. Towards morning, we were awakened by cries of fire ; all managed to get out but Mabel. By some blunder she was supposed to be the first to be rescued, when, to our horror, just as we thought the roof would fall in, we saw Mabel on the ground floor. I rushed in natu- rally, and brought her out ; to save her from a falling beam, I put out my arm, and so injured it. It is but a simple fracture, and will soon be well, dear; don't look so troubled, it might have been worse you know." "Yes, it might have been worse, but I can't help feeling miserable abovit it," said Jean in a depressed tone. " Ring the bell, Hagar dear ; Lady Dandergard would like to go to her room." " I shall soon return, I rested well at the hotel, where Paul was good enough to take me." As Satanella followed Hagar from the room, Paul put an arm round Jeannie. She put her little hands aga^inst his chest to keep him off, and said reproachfully : " I cried myself to sleep last night, I was so lonely without you, and you passed the night with your old love Satanella." yk- OR, THE POWER Of LOVE. 199 '^ Passed the night witli Satanella! What a wicked way to put it, you sweet little absurdity. There, don't look so vexed, I am a weak fool, I know, and I ought to have known my visit to her would pain you ; but there was no harm, pet, you must not think so badly of us both. We are a set of Bohemians, I know, but we're not so black as we are painted. Come, kiss and be friends.'' He bent his handsome head over her fondly and kissed her with evident sincerity, but Jean was jealous, she detested Satanella, and dreaded her power over Paul. She dared not put her doubts into Avords, there was a look on Paul's face that forbade her, yet jealousy whis- pered evil in her heart, and all the joy of the season seemed dead. '' Let there be peace and goodwill in your heart for all saints and sinners to-night, wee wife. Come and help me dress, I left Peters in town. I must return on New Year's Day, and he wanted to visit some friends in Scotland." Jean followed Paul upstairs, half-way he paused and held out his hand to help her. She did not smile or thank him, her eyes were full of unshed tears. In his dressing-room she helped him with sweetly ser- viceable sympathy, but she was very silent, and he looked enquiringly at her with something of shame in his eyes. He knew he ought to have spared her the pain of mistrusting him again. He knew he had been to blame, he felt sorry that Satanella was under his roof; he hated the thought of that night of mad revelry, and its swift punishment in the awful danger that followed. He felt sick with fatigue, longed for rest and peace, and yet had driven peace and comfort away by his reckless disregard of Jean's feelings. What could he do, he wondered, to win the smile back to her lips, the light of love and trust to her eyes. ''Darling, try not to feel vexed with me; indeed — indeed I meant no disloyalty to you. I feel wretched ; you seem to shrink from me. I have done nothing to deserve it. Try to trust me, Jeannie ; do not be so cold ^- 200 BONNIE JEAN ; OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. to me, love ; I have so longed to see your dear face." Jean sliuddered as she wished she could believe him. She- hated herself for her instinctive mistrust; she felt the bitterness of her suspicions, and the shame of her thoughts brought a flush to her fair cheeks. Why could she not trust him and be happy ? Ah, she would try ; come what may, he should not be driven to sin through her, so she tip-toed to kiss him. As they went out of the room she stooped to pick up her skirts, which were long and costly ; in doing so she saw a scrap of half-burnt paper, and picked it up from a mere orderly habit she had and hatred of litter. When she was in the drawing-room, she went to put it in the fire, when she saw it was Satanella's writing, and put it in her pocket; later on she shaped the disconnected sentences thus : "I shall be alone to-night, come without fail; if you cannot come with love, keep away." CHAPTER XXXII. ^ Is Jean put the scrap of paper back in her pocket, Satanella entered in a low black A^^lvet dress, diamonds sparkling about her like stars in a midnight sky. Paul placed a chair for her by the fire, and stood a second speaking to her in a low tone of interest and anxiety. Jean watched them with a dull ache at her heart, seeing this superbly lovely woman with adoring eyes uplifted to her husband's face. The poor young wife wished she could leave the path clear for them, for what was she in comparison with Satanella ? Simply a pure wild flower beside a glorious exotic. Satanella could give the man she loved greater beauty, equal wealth, and, though not greater love — love to him that might appear the more desirable ; she was in his world, while Jean could take no part in it. Jean felt her heart grow faint with pain; she was glad w£en friends arrived to fill up the gap that lay between her and her husband, who was full of life and high spirits. Lady Lyston was among their guests — a pale pen- sive guest with a moonlight smile ; she seemed to study Satanella, as one does a book or poem a loved and lost one had both prized and praised. Dr. John had stolen to Hagar's side, and their hearts spoke through their eyes. Jean alone among that merry throng was hopeless and absent. Paul thought it was ill-health that made her silent, and he spared her all he could, tenderly screening her from observation when she seemed weary, and bearing patiently her haughty coldness to him. The merry hours sped on, the snoAv ceased, and the air grew keen, and bright stars and moon shone brightly. 202 BONNIE JEAN ; While they were at supper, a madly merry meal, Jean raised her hand to invoke silence — the waits were singing a song of peace and pardon. Paul threw open the window, and the chill air streamed in laden with music and moonlight. Jean went to his side, that she might see the singers. The air fanned her fair pale cheek, and renewed her drooping spirit. Looking up at the far-off heaven, she sighed, sayino- to herself : " Ah, there is rest, peace, truth, love, and loyalty ! Oh, that I might be lifted up above the pain called life ! '' " What are you whispering about, wee wife ? " said Paul, putting his hand tenderly upon her shoulder. Jean turned her dark pathetic eyes upon him icily, saying in an intense undertone : " I was wishing that I was dead." Before he could answer she had mingled among her guests. Paul saw her with Vi Brassy's dimpled arms about her ; beside that blooming young Hebe, Jeannie looked but the wraith of a woman. " Surely she was only half of earth that night," thought Paul sadly. Could she be nearer gaining her sad wish than he thought ? She was so young ; surely death inust be afar off for her. Yet she had yearned for it as for the face of a friend. All the mirth died out of Paul's heart ; a sad fore- boding made him seek Dr. John and ask if he saw any change in Jean. Dr. John shook his head gravely, saying : " She is a sensitive plant; she needs great care and kindness." ''Do you imagine I am not good to her, man ? " "I imagine you mean to be, but then there is Satanella." "Lady Dandergard is nothing to me. Granger." " Make yoar wife believe that if you are convinced of it yourself." ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 203 " If I am convinced of it myself. The man's mad! Does he take me for a fool, or a knave ? " muttered Paul savagely, as Dr. John buttonholed the vicar about a certain charity which was interesting Jean and Hagar just then. It was midnight, and all the guests had departed, and Jean stood in the now deserted drawing-room a picture of dejection. The echo of kind wishes and friendly speeches were with her still, floating about her like kindly spirits trying to cheer her, but she would not be cheered, her heart lay cold as ice in her bosom. Love lay bleeding to death within her ; she felt desolate, despairing; life seemed undesirable, but that much-wished-for, though somewhat dreaded, death would not come. She drew the curtain back and looked out on the white world ; frost flowers hung on the trees, sparkling moon- beams turned their pure crystals to angel tears. A great calm lay over all things, a tranquility sweetly deep as an infant's slumbers. Jean felt soothed in spite of herself; she vaguely wondered why Paul had not missed her until she saw him sauntering aimlessly to and fro, smoking his big pipe, with his head drooped despondingly, and his sound hand thrust deep in his pocket. He, too, was restless, unhappy, and ill at ease ; he did not know what to do about Jean, her jealousy scared him. How could he soothe her, how assure her of his good faith ? He pitied her from the bottom of his heart, for ho knew she was ill and suffering, and would not be com- forted ; it made him miserable to think of her in her loneliness, yet what could he do ? She shrank from him ; her faith would not be restored. He cursed the folly, the weakness that had led him to trust to Satanella's friendship. Could it be possible that she had poisoned Jean's mind against him ? No, that thought was too vile to be entertained. 204 BONNIE JEAN; He knocked the ashes out of his pipe, refilled it, and paused before the window to light it. Jean saw in the glow of the match that his face was white and drawn, and her tender love yearned over him. Ah, her little life would be cheaply bought if the price secured him happiness. She stole away to her bedchamber in the dark, her heart beating fast with a stifling pain. Her maid, Maggie, removed her dress by the tire, brushed and braided her hair, and left her. Jean crept into bed, and worn and weary fell asleep, to dream that she was falling from a great height through frosty air that chilled her to the bone. Then came a cruel blow from behind, and she staggered into deep water. * -^ * •}«• -x- Paul had entered his wife's room from the dressing- room adjoining, and found her in deep still slumber, with tears still wet upon her cheek and pillow. She looked so young, so pure, so childlike, with pallor of ill-health upon her ; her pretty hand with its heavy wedding-ring lay under her face; the hand had grown thin, the face delicate and sad. Paul's heart ached for her — his sweet child-wife. He lifted one hand and placed it round his neck, then laid his head beside hers on the pillow, and watched her slumbers as fondly as a tender mother a sick child. He longed to wake her, to assure her of his un- changing love — longed to feel her warm kisses on his cheek, and see her eyes brighten with the light of love. Her pale slumber looked so like death that his heart stood still with awe. He realised the strangeness of the wish to die in one so young. He wondered if she suffered much, for her brows were knit as she slept, and her lips quivered as with pain. He threw his arm about her, as though its strength had power to guard her from all ill ; then, weary with the pain of his injured arm, and the excitement of the day, he slept too, the heavy dreamless sleep of a tired body and overtasked brain. ^- ^- OE, THE POWER OF LOVE. 205 So Jean slept^ her sinless soul relieved from half the tension called living. Satanella sat in her room by the frosted window-pane. The fire flickered to an untimely end, and lay like a wasted life among its own ashes. She felt no cold ; her blood was at fever-heat, her heart throbbed heavily. She had not moved the jewels from her breast, or loosened the flaxen fetters of her hair. A great unrest was on her. A spirit all evil seemed ij uttering about her, whispering possible sins. She was planning how to separate man and wife. She was not softened by the thought of Jean's suffer- ing or Paul's love for his wife. She fancied that, once freed from Jean, his heart would return to her. She had never realised how dear his love was till she had lost it. . In vain she had tried to entrap him into an intrigue. He was proof against temptation, and she was despe- rate, fearing that the new tie that was to come to him would bind him closer still to his wife. " Oh, if she were dead — if she were only dead ! " said Satanella, beating her hands together, and pacing the room as though it were a prison of which she had grown weary. " The devil led her to me once, and gave her life into my hands ; why did I not kill her ? She must have died if I had hurled her down into the hall. I can fancy her slender bones crashing against the stones. Paul could no longer have fondled her he fancies so fair. How I hate her. But for her he would be my very own now. "What could we not have done with wealth, talent, fame, fortune, such as could have satisfied our great ambition ! Now we are for ever divided; she hates and mistrusts me, she will steal even his friendship from me, and I live only in his presence. He loved me before he saw her baby-face, mine is the prior right; I will wrench happiness from her in spite of fate, there is nothing I would not do to win my darling. ^ 206 BONNIE JEAN; OB, THE POWER OP LOVE. '' Ohj I am mad with jealous pain ! If I saw lier sleeping in his ai-ms in reality, as I now picture them in imagination, I would kill them both as joyfully as I would go to a bridal. Only last night when alone with him I was all gentleness, softness ; and womanly pride made me seem that which I was once, before passion and sin scorched my soul to the restless burning blot it is. Oh, if I had his love, his faith again, how differently I would use my power, my beauty — it should be a sacred shrine of love for him alone." So thoughts and words mingled amid her musing. " I wish I could sleep," she said miserably, looking longingly at the open bed. " Sleep is for those whose minds and hearts are at rest, not for such untranquil souls as mine." She stood still and silent for a second, with her hands pressed to her burning forehead. As she stood thus she heard a faint sound as of bare feet outside her door. She opened it hastily, to see Jean slowly descending the wide staircase, her night-robe gleaming white in the moonlight. A strange smile flickered over Satanella's face as she slowly followed, her slippered feet making no noise. The stairs were steep, and the mosaic pavement lay a long way below; it would be a fearful thing to fall from such a height. Jean walked on, a serene smile on her unconcerned lips ; behind, like the shadow of death, crept her remorseless enemy. One swift sure blow, and the little white figure flew through the chill air to the stone below. A dull horrid thud sounded, mingled with a smothered cry. Swift and silent Satauella flew to her room, hastily disrobed^ and crept into bed. ^^^^^^'f'"^ ^s!X^^'^ (s^j'.-t*;-*,*^- CHAPTER XXXIII. [ATJL woke witli a start, liis heart beating with alarm ; his arm lay no longer across the warm white form of his wife ; she had gone. He was immediately convinced she had come to some harm, and ran from the room impressed with vague terror. He fancied he heard a faint moaning below; he looked over the carved balustrade, and in a path of brio-ht moonlight that came from the high sky-light above, saw a form huddled up at the foot of the grand staircase. To fly along the corridor and spring down the stairs two at a time was but the work of a few seconds. As he passed Dr. John's door, he shouted : " Help — (|uick, for mercy's sake ! " and Dr. John was quick to follow. At the foot of the stairs, bathed in silvery light, lay Jean, her brown tresses dappled in blood, her white face drawn as in death. With a groan of agonised despair Paul lifted her just as high as his knee. As he knelt beside her, Dr. John came down, and, leaning over her, said : " Do not move her yet. I'll get assistance and a lio'ht ; she is only stunned, but this may be her death. Poor girl ! God pity her ! How came she here ? " " I do not know. I missed her from her bed but a few seconds ago. She must have been walking in her sleep, and so have fallen." Stark and white lay Jean, her head resting on her husband's knee. He watched with wild eyes of agony, great beads of perspiration standing on his face. How vfould it end ? 208 BONNIE JEAN j Would he lose the brightest jewel in his crown of life ? Her breath came faintly in broken gasps. How Pau?s heart ached none but himself knew. What if she should die with her last words to him wishing for death, and she so young and so beloved ? He bent his head and pressed a passionate kiss upon her cold cheek, she was so dear to him. Satanella, coming down the stairs in a costly Eastern wrap, saw the little group fenced about by the moon- beams, saAV the pearly pallor of Jean's fair face, the agony of despairing love in Paul's eyes, heard the hurried tramp of advanciog feet, and said in a hoarse whisper : " What is wrong ? I was awakened by a confused noise. Is anyone hurt ? Oh, Paul, your poor wife ! — surely she is not dead ? " " Dead ! Oh, God forbid ! She has fallen in her sleep. Go, call Hagar and my wife's maid." Glad to get away from the sight of her murderous work, Satanella sped on her errt n 1, haunted by the death-like look in Jean's face, and still more by the misery in Paul's eyes. Even if Jean died, would she wan Paul's heart again ? A dreadful doubt assailed her — what if she had sinned in vain ? Hagar responded to Satanella's call, cool, collected, helj^ful. Jean, still insensible, was carried to her room. Paul felt certain she would die ; he could not be persuaded to leave her. " Only let her open her eyes and speak to me, and I will leave her in your hands. Dr. John." There was something pathetic in this appeal, and Dr. John Avas glad to see Paul felt his wife's danger so acutely ; but even he was unjust, and in spite of his more charitable judgment, thought When love begins to sicken and decay, It usetli an enforced ceremony. But Paul's devotion was not feigned, it came direct from his heart; Jean's danger awoke his truest, deepest feelings. He felt that if she died life would be indeed dark, desolate, an(J undesirable ; he had never thought to care so much for any woman as he did for Jean ; he ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 209 esteemed her as much as he loved her, and respect is a safe anchorage for love. After remedies had been used, Jean opened her eyes, and said with a groan : " Paul, where am IV " Safe, hei'e in your own bed, my darling,^^ said Paul, as he burst into an uncontrollable fit of sobbing; the relief was so great, his joy so intense. Jean looked perplexed, then pitifully put out her hand and laid it on his head. He took it in his and kissed it with rapture. Then Dr. John roused him, saying : " We must make examination to know the extent of her injuries. Send at once for Sir Eustace Jenner; I shall need assistance before the day is over. I will let you know the result of our examination. Wait for me in the smokiag-room, and keep the house quiet ; she has much to undergo before she is out of danger.^' " There is hope for her ? " " Yes, there is hope ; but it is faint and vague as yet." Paul, with a yearning look at his wife, went into his dressing-room, and after a cold bath, dressed and went down to the smoking-room. There was a bright fire burning, and crouching down before it, her head pillowed on her arms, sat Satanella. She lifted her haggard face as Paul entered, her dry lips refused to frame the question ; she was anxious for news, yet feared to put her anxiety into words. At last, with a mighty effort, she gasped : ''Is she dead?" *'No, thank God ! there is hope for her. Come, Mabel, rouse yourself, the shock has been too much for you ; why not go back to bed and try to rest ? " Mabel shuddered; the quiet of her room she felt would be intolerable to her. What if she had sinned in vain, and her rival should recover ? But the chances were in favour of her dying. Satanella looked into the fire with eyes that saw there a vision of unholy joy. Paul stood silent by her side ; he was grateful to find Mabel had so much sympathy and womanly feeliug a "^^ 210 BONNIE JEAN; about her; it raised her in his regard ; the kindness of his tone increased. Ah^ if he had but known^ how differently he would have felt towards her ! Could he have looked into her heart he would have seen a hideous resolve that, so far as evil determination wentj meant to end Jean's life, if not now, at the first opportunity. He little knew the lurid lig-ht of her eyes meant murder; a sort of madness had risen out of Satanella's jealousy of Jean ; now she had gone so far she would go still farther, and sin, if possible, more deeply still. She had a weighty weapon in her hand, in the fact of PauFs passing a night at her house; true, he had stayed simply because he was too tipsy to leave, but, then, who should knov^ his motive ? Not Jean, at any rate. Paul was too anxious about Jean to notice Mabel's absent manner, or the long silence that fell upon them. The fire burnt low, and the driving sleet beat against the window-pane. Every now and again Paul stole on tip-toe to his wife's room, but was not allowed to enter. Hagar met him each time, and told him how Jean progressed, and he had to be content with her sentence of banishment. At dawn she was taken worse, and at noon, on Christ- mas Day, when the joy-bells were ringing, a celebrated physician arrived and took the case in hand. He gave little hope of her recovery, but said he might save her child. Satanella heard him tell Paul this, and started with horror to see her hero's face change; an awful pallor was upon it. " For mercy's sake save the mother — never mind the child ! " baid Paul in an agony of fear. " A very natural feeling, my dear sir, but I fear it is beyond us ; life and death are higher decrees than man's. We will do our best ; perfect quiet, extreme care, and unremitting watchfulness must be used; the poor lady's life hangs on a thread." on, THE POWER OF LOVE. 211 Paul sliivered and began pacing the room impatientlj, " You will send for me if there seems any danger of her dying ? You will let me speak to her ? Remember, she is my wife, the nearest and dearest tie on earth to me ! ^^ " My dear sir, you shall be sent for directly w^e see a change for better or worse. I assure you, everyone gives you the most sincere sympathy, and if human power can save your poor young wife, she will be restored to you." Satanella watched Paul anxiously ; her heart was sore, she could not bear to see Paul's concern ; she loved him well enough to suffer in his suffering, yet she was cruelly jealous of the cause. Never had she hated Jean with such deadly hatred as she did now. She felt afraid of her own mad passion, for she feared it might betray her, and earn her Paul's contempt and enmity. The doctor looked at the lovely haggard face regard- ing them so fixedly, and wondered where he had seen it before — a face full of fatal witchery and evil passion. While the two men talked, Mabel's evil genius was whispering temptingly to her of what her life might be made without Jean ; and Jean above battled with death for the sake of the child that was so dear, since it would call Paul father. In those long hours of agony Jean learned to look beyond earthly love to that higher Power that proves in our extremity the might and mystery of Divine guidance. When Hagar laid a wailing mite of humanity against Jean's fair breast, her wan face lighted up gratefully, and pressing the cold baby-fingers to her pale lips, sho said : '^ We both live after much peril, and yet there are those who can tell us they do not believe there is a God ! '^ When the good news was taken to Paul, he wept like a child. After the horrible suspense, the relief was too great, he could not control himself. Mabel, with hatred and evil wishes in her heart, knelt beside him, trying to persuade him to control his feelings. A jealous feeling of regret made her say : ^ 212 BONNIE JEAN; OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. " 1 don't believe you would ever liave cared so much if you had seen me torn to death by wild beasts ! " Paul looked up and answered honestly : " Of course a man cannot care for anyone as he does for his wife, the mother of his child. Run, Mab, there's a darling, and ask them to let me see my wife and child, if only for a moment. I will not excite Jean. She is far too precious for me to let her run any risk on my account, poor suifering" child ! " Satanella rose from her knees. She had sunk down beside him and tried to soothe his excitement. She went away to do his bidding-, every nerve quiver- ing, her brain in a tempest of baffled hate. As she crossed the hall a stray chill sunbeam struggled thi'ough the gloom and shone upon a pool of blood — ■ Jean's blood, spilt by this her cruel enemy. As Satanella passed it she shivered, and drew her wrapper closer about her. That little crimson stream had dyed her soul with the dark stain of murder, that was none the less a sin to be rendered to her account because her evil wishes had been frustrated by a more merciful power. CHAPTER XXXIV. iT tlie door of tlie sick room Satanella paused. vS appose Jean sliould by some subtle instinct know the evil hand slie bad in bringing about her suffering ? Satanella recoiled from the thought; then, with courage and determination, put the idea aside, and asked permission to enter. Hagar opened the door with a frown, saying shortly : " I cannot allow anyone to see Mrs. Martinet now, except it be her husband. She is doing well. There is no immediate danger, yet we cannot be too cautious." " No immediate danger, you say. Then there is danger ? " " Of course. But do not tell Mr. Martinet anything but that, so far, -Jean does fairly well, and he may see her if he promises not to speak to her or excite her.^' As Hagar closed the door Paul came up very quietly, and receiving her message entered. Jean lay white and still as death, her bloodless face turned towards the door, her eyes half closed like one recently dead. Her hair lay about her face in dark brown masses, increasing the whiteness of her skin; pressed to her breast lay a little sleeping infant that she clasped with one weak hand. She did not notice Paul, and as he neared her his heart sank; she seemed to him more like a dead or dying woman than one of whom there Avould be hope of recovery. He knelt down beside her, and laid his burning- head against her hand, yet she did not stir, she seemed in- sensible to his presence, and he, poor fellov*", felt a terrible disappointment because she gave him neither word nor smile. »- 2H BONNIE JEAN; Hagar felt sorry for liim wlien she saw liis despairing ]o6k, and laying a kind hand on his shoulder, said : " She is exhausted, poor girl ! she has had a mar- vellous escape. Do not disturb her ; you may stay if you keep quite still. Is it not a bonnie baby ? " Paul peeped at the little pink face, and a new feeling stirred in his heart, for this little life was his very own, and a bond of love 'twixt Jean and he — something they could both love and cherish. After a time Jean's breathing became more regular, and she slept the blessed sleep that was to bring such wondrous healing. Paul's head sank on the side of the pillow, and he watched her lovingly. The firelight danced about Hagar's stately form as she stood by the fire, and Dr. John, who had come to watch with her for a time, thought how sweetly womanly she was, and how well worth winning. He glanced towards the bed. PauFs wretched looks aroused his sympathy. The clock ticked steadily, the fire sparkled, and the world without was white and still as the poor girl-wife who slumbered so heavily with her husband's aching heart throbbing so near her own. Presently she murmured uneasily in her sleep, and Hagar crossed hastily to the bed. " I tell you he lied to me ; he spent the night with Satanella, with my heart aching in loneliness, and she wrote ' Come without fail, and come with love.' With love ! Oh, merciful God, I love him — I love him, yet he leaves me for this woman ! I will go away and leave him free, but no stain must rest upon the child — the child shall be ray very own to love and live for. Oh, the cruel pain, the awful fall. Why drive me to my death ? 'Tis so dark and cold, I do not know which way to turn. Oh, for one gleam of light to lead me safely out of the gloom ! " So on in broken sentences Jean's misery found words, and Paul shrank back appalled, and the doctors gathered round and spoke of the shock to the system through the fall; but he knew better; he knew some evil was ^- OR; THE I'OWER OF LOVE. 215 working against him in her brain, and lie loved lier dearer than all else life contained. No one noticed bim as lie shrank back behind the bed-curtains, stricken with a deadly fear. Medicine was given, and after a while Jean was quiet again, but her words had given him a clue to her mys- terious coldness ; the words, " Come v/ithout fail, come with love,'^ haunted him; he knew they were in the note Mabel had sent him, and he had spoken sternly to her of the indiscretion and bad taste of writing such a note, yet he was sure he had burnt it. He could quite remember lighting his pipe with a piece of it. Ah, but which piece ? Surely not the blank sheet ? Poor Jeannie ! what could she believe in face of that note, and his absence from home, and his return with Satanella ? A bitter curse on his own stupidity and weakness, and Mabel's wicked love, rose in his heart. Was this woman to blight his whole life and Jeannie's because he had once been fool enough to find her chains endurable ? No — a thousand times no ! He would have none of her ; he would shut her out of his life ; she should not have the chance of injuring him, for she would injure him though he knew she loved him better that her own soul. But what could he say to reassure Jeannie — Jeannie who had just passed through such dire suffering, brought about by his love and her wifehood ? Suppose she should die without a word or sigra of forgiveness ? His heart sank, and a wordless prayer winged its way to heaven ; tears splashed unchecked upon his hands. Presently he felt a slight pressure from her white hand, and looking down through his tears he saw Jean's great anxious eyes uplifted to his face. He bent over her eagerly. She tried to smile, and he stopped the pitiful attempt with a fervent caress. " Why, your cheeks are wet, love, and you sob ; then you are sorry for me, you cai-e enough not to like to see me suffer ? " " My God, Jean, why speak to me so ? Don't you know you are dearer than life to me ? I would gladly » — ^ 216 BONNIE JEANj OR, THE POWEE OF LOVE. cut off my right hand to save you an hour's suffering-. You must not talk, or they will send me away, and it comforts me to sit beside you and see our dear little baby." Jean looked down fondly at the little sleeping face, then said with quivering lips : "You will love him, Paul, for my sake ; she will not be jealous of your little child ; but promise me never to give that woman the right to be called mother by my child. I may die, I feel as if I should, but I cannot bear to think of that wicked woman in my home ; anyone who is good and womanly I would gladly give to fill my place when I am gone, but not such as Satanella. Promise me, Paul — promise me; it is hard, perhaps, but believe me it is best/' Jean had spoken in a low excited tone, her sentences broken by gasping breath, and an awful anxiety for Paul's answer. Hearing her voice, Hagar hastily came to the bedside. " You must not talk, Jeannie darling. If you do Mr. Martinet must be sent away." " Oh no, no— not until he has answered me. Paul, promise while I can hear you and take your words away to be registered in heaven." " My own sweet wife, I swear I will never put another in your place, come what may. I will own but one wife. She will live ever in my heart, though her home be earth or heaven. By God's name I swear never to have another wife but you, Jeannie." With a sigh of relief Jeannie sank into a deep insensi- bility, and Paul staggered blindly from the room out into the drifting snow, that the chill air of heaven might cool the fever of his brain, and calm the awful emotion that made all things seem so dreamlike and unreal. " Oh, God, spare my darling to me a little longer ! Let me prove worthy of the blessing of her love. Give her some years of happiness, and let punishment fall upon my sinful head ! Oh, fool— fool that I have been to risk her beautiful faith ! " -^ NOTICE.— This Work will be published every WedneBda^, Orders should be given to vour Bookseller early. BONNIE JEAN No. 10. CHAPTER XXXV. "K^^^ f AUL, come in, I eutreat. You are quite ^\!|^^y,l| I covered with snow, and will take an ^^i^^BI ^^ ^^'^^ Satanella who spoke from the 1^^^^^ stone porch ; Satanella with her lovely head enveloped in a thick crimson shawl, and her dainty garments held up from contact with the spotless snow. Paul paiised in his impatient march past, and said wearily : " Leave me in peace, Mab ; my head aches. The air is delicious. I have just left Jean. She was not so. well — excited herself at sight of me." " What a pity ! You musjb really leave her in peace. Only nurses and doctors are to be trusted at such times. Come aud have some dinner; v^e are all starving." '^ I can't eat. You must excuse me to-day; apologise for me, I mean to have a brisk walk to the village to see Mr. Brassy." " May I come too ? " " Not to-day, dear ; it is too cold, and I shall make but indifferent company for you." All the time Paul spoke he was wondering upon what pretext he could get Satanella away from Deepdane. He could not bear to think her presence should be the cause of unrest and vexation to Jean. He did not wish to offend Satanella, for he was, to a certain extent, in her power, and she was a most un- scrupulous woman, whose enmity was to be dreaded. His professional fame was very dear to him, and she was mixed up in it, for she shared the expense of the Bonville, and had a written agreement to appear in his new play directly the year of mourning for her husband should be ended. ^- ^ BONNIE jean; OEj THE POWER OP LOVE. 219 The success of this new play was a matter of great importance to Paul, and he was also very anxious that Satanella's fair fame should not suffer through him, and, manlike, he thought more leniently of her failings than a woman would ; and, somehow, she had always made herself so much a part of his professional life, that it would have been hard to sever their fortunes ; but he meant to speak plainly to her, and show her that love for his wife was in future to be the loadstar of his life. After being wedded to such a sweet good woman as Jean, had he°been free to marry, he certainly would not have chosen such a woman as Satanella ; the mere idea of it brought a strange feeling of shame for her and himself. He regretted the part he had played in her life, though he knew the evil was of her own seeking. He admired her as an actress, valued her as a friend, but beyond that was quite indifferent to her many charms. Just now the sight of her seemed a sin against Jean, who lay so near to death, with such a cruel jealousy of Satanella cankering her pure mind. Satanella fetched Paul's warm coat, hat, and gloves, and watched him pub them on, with a strange feeling of her attentions being unwelcome to him ; still, she stifled the thought, coaxed him into the hall, and watched him drink a stiff glass of hot negus. Then, with a quivering lip and downcast eye, she whispered : " Oh, Paul, pray do not be vexed with me. What have I done to offend you ? You have not spoken one kind word to me to-day." " Don't be fanciful, Mab ; I am not vexed with you, but I am greatly troubled for my poor little girl, and can think of nothing but her peril and pain. I am sorry you should have such a dull Christmas ; perhaps, after all, if you did not mind the walk, it would be as well for you to come to the Brassys ; they are sure to be full of fun and frolic, and you will be wretched here." This last proposition was prompted by a desire on Paul's part to have a fair chance of speaking to Satanella without fear of interruption. ^ -_ -^ 220 BONNIE JEAN; Slie gladly availed herself of it. What was snow or sleet if she was by Paul's side ? She hastily ran away to don her sables, some thick shoes, and a short skirt. Paul's heart misg-ave him when she appeared flushed and breathless, with a look of radiant pleasure in her beautiful face. He was going- to pain her, and he did not like the task, for, after all, his fancy had helped to make her what she was, and he knew no ill of her but such as had been of his own bringing, and she loved him with a force and passion that frightened him some- times. Well, he would deal as tenderly as he dared with her, tell her the simple truth, and ask her for his sake to make life easier for them all. She slipped her pretty hand through his arm as they walked together through the frozen fields. He felt it hard to damp her high spirits ; she seemed so merry, so full of life and hope, and he knew one cold word from him would weigh upon her heart like lead. He was strangely absent-minded, unconsciously noticing the richness of her furs, the pale gold of her hair, and the slim beauty of her tiny feet. They came to a tiresome stile all hung with icicles, and when Paul helped her to stand on the top rail, she suddenly shook away his hold and said with audacious fondness : " If you don't kiss me immediately, and say you are not vexed with me, I'll jump off on to the slippery ice and sprain my aukles — I will, Paul, see if I don't ! " She swayed her graceful body dangerously. Paul, nervous through sitting up, said sharply : '' Don't be idiotic, Mabel ; you will certainly come to grief. Give me your hand, you silly girl ! " "Kiss me then. See, here is the mistletoe." She pointed to a spray in her plumed hat, and pouted her blossom of a mouth. Paul frowned. " Satanella, how can you be so silly ? Suppose someone saw us, what would they think ? Come, dear, let me help you down. You must not be such a naughty little temptress. I shall be cross with you now if you ")$- OR^ THE POWER OP LOVE. 221 make a scene. Don't flasli out at me like tliat. I am not afraid of tlie daring Lady Dandergard.'^ Satanella sat down on the stile and began to cry quietly, wiping the tears away witli a dainty silk hand- kerchief. Paul was touched; a woman in tears was a weak point with him, and after all, what harm had this beautiful creature done him except by loving him ? He wiped the tears away and said soothingly : "Come, queenie, don't cry; you'll make your nose red, and spoil your pretty looks. I was only in fun, I did not mean to hurt your feelings, only I must sometimes re- mind you my caresses are not my own to give but in one direction. You can't expect me to spoon with you here in the fields, and my poor little wife lying on her bed of pain at home ; just put yourself in my place, dear." . " I wish to God I could ! " said Satanella wickedly, and these words recalled Paul's oath so sharply, that he said in the impulse of the moment : " I should never put anyone in Jeannie's place if she did die, which God forbid, poor little darling ! She deserves a better husband, but such as he is he can be faithful to her." " Can he ? I'll ask you that question again a few months hence, Paul, and see how you will answer me." "As I do now. Heaven helping me ! " " I don't believe you ; if I did I should die of misery. You love me, and would forget the whole world for my sake; is it not so ? " "Forgive me, dear. If I have changed to you, it is because my heart has been born afresh by the surpass- ing goodness of my girl-wife. Try to see things in the right light, Mab. A long time ago we were lovers, but ambition and love of money parted us ; we became bound in honour to two honest loving souls of whom we were both unworthy. Your new life and its duties ended abruptly, mine continue, and I am happy to say love has made mine an easy path. I pity 3-our loneliness, care for you as a sister, value your friendship as one of the most precious gifts of life, but beyond that I cannot go ; honour and love for Jean forbid it. s? 222 BONNIE JEAN ; " A brilliant future/' continued Paul, " slilnes ahead of you; look to the golden light, and forget you ever cherished a foolish fancy for another woman's husband. If you have ever cared for me or feel one spark of com- passion for that poor girl, my wife, do not tempt the weaker, more wicked part of me to betray her generous trust. But a night or so ago your friends found out the demon of gambling in me, and made me a fool and drunkard. I want to live honestly and worthily, but everything seems against me, and I know my greatest enemy is myself. Shake hands, Mab, and say you Avill help and not hinder my taking the better part in life." Satanella was silent, her nervous fingers twisting the handkerchief she held into a silken rope. How should she answer this appeal honestly and fearlessly without telling him she would liold him in bondage body and soul again, or die in the attempt ? Or, she would use the woman's weapon — deception, disguise her evil intention, meet his friendly advances half-way, beguile him in to a deceitful security, and soothe his awakened conscience with pretended sympathy with his good intentions. At last she decided how to act. The tears still hung on her long lashes, her lips trembled like a grieved child's, as she said sadly : '' It shall be as you wish, Paul; I could not bear to lose you altogether. I know I ought to have more pride, and say we will be strangers ; but oh, I cannot — I cannot ! You must not ask it. Let the past be buried; let us begin from to-day as fast friends for evermore. Do not despise me because my love has lived through neglect and contempt ; you taught that love to exist, and must not grumble because it will not die at your bidding. Remember you gave me the right to love you first by loving me." '' Nothing could make me despise you, unless you tried to injure my wife, or cause her jealousy ; but that would be beneath you ; you were never mean ; even your sins were splendid sins, and there must be a nobility about a woman who could so readily renounce them and live a worthier life. You must forgive me, dear. s?- OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 223 and we will begin afresh from to-day ; a real friend is better than a disloyal lover." "Sigh no move, ladies, Men were deceivers ever, Since summer first vras leafy; One foot on sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never. Sigh not so, but let them go, _ And be more blithe and bonnie." This verse floated to them in full, rich, frolicsome voice, borne from a distance on the still air. They both looked round sharply ; Satanella sprang to her feet, Paul, with a heavy frown ; and swinging towards them in a fur-lined coat, gun in hand, came Dr. Bertie Drake, looking handsome and jolly. He had been hidden by a turn in the path, and was as surprised to see them as they were to see him. Shaking hands heartily with Paul, he said : t , , nr " Where are you off to, old fellow, and how s Mrs. Martinet ? " '' Horribly ill." Here Paul in an undertone related the nature and seriousness of Jean's illness. Bertie was upset ; this was bad news indeed. He dared not think of his dear little friend dyiug. His sympathy touched Paul; he had always liked Bertie, though he did sometimes feel jealous of Jean's regard for him, Paul explained that he was going to the vicarage to inform Jean's old friends of her state, and that Lady Dandergard had offered to accompany him to get out of the way at home. " I am glad we met you, old fellow for now I mean to make you come back with us, to keep Mabel company ; 'tis awfully dull for her at Deepdane." ''With pleasure, my dear fellow, for I am anxious to hear the latest news of my old playfellow." CHAPTER XXXVI. EW YEAR'S EVE came round very quickly, it seerued to Satanella, and still Jean did not die ; on the contrary, she slowly but surely progressed towards recovery. No one had been allowed to see her ; she was too weak and ill to bear any excitement, and suffered greatly with her head. The baby thrived splendidly, and the thought of the child was the only thing that seemed to rouse Jean. She made all sorts ot excuses to avoid seeing Paul ; and when she heard from Hagar of Satanella, she shuddered and shut her eyes. Hagar had grown very cautious how she spoke of Mabel, and if she was out riding or driving with Paul, managed to keep the matter from Jean's ears ; but the nurse, not being in their confidence, was less discreet. Satanella was a great favourite with that worthy woman, for she was lavish in bestowing presents, and had a way of enquiring after the mother and child that impressed the nurse with the notion that Jean and her child were veiy dear to her. The nurse, too, did not like Hagar — in fact, few strangers did ; her cold manner repelled those who did not know her real worth ; then, too, the nurse resented her authority in the sick-room, and Jean's preference for her. This Christmas time, in spite of the shock of Jean's accident and illness, had been a very happy time to Hagar; already happiness had bi'ought back the soft- ness and brightness to her dark eyes, and the faint bloom to her cheeks. Many were the happy hours she had spent with Dr. John, when she could be spared from the sick-room ; and these hours were getting* more frequent now that Jean was getting- better^ and had long' sleep. r- BONNIE JEAN; OE^ THE POWER OP LOVE. 225 This bright New Tear's Eve, when dinner was over, Hagar and Dr. John stood by the window in the loug low drawing-room, and whispered together of the new life that was to begin for them with the new year. Paul was moodily reading; Satanella sat by the piano, playing a dreamy nocturne with exquisite taste and skill ; music was a passion with Satanella, nothing solaced her like sad little songs and love-suggestive melodies. To-night she seemed in a very pensive mood. Paul and she had patched up a piece, and she had arranged to leave Deepdane on Twelfth Night. They were very much interested in business matters concerning the Bonville, which was succeeding beyond their boldest expectations. Paul, in spite of instinct and reason, had allowed Satanella to make him believe in her; he even felt sorrowful on her account, seeing her lovely face sadden, as it did to-night. While Hagar and Dr. John whispered by the v/indow, Satanella sang, and the beauty of her voice blended witli the tranquil hour, and Hagar found herself listening, even Avhile Dr. John held her hand, and her eyes were uplifted to the frosty stars. The words came meaningless and vague at first, then they impressed themselves upon her so that she compared their import to the might of her own love for John, who was listening now as intently as herself. "Like dewdrops sparkling on the spray, Like an iris o'er a fountain; Like frost-work 'neatli the snn's bright ray, Like snow-wi'eaths on a mountain; So perish all the joys we seek, So pleasures one by one die So fades the rose on beauty's cheek; Sic transit gloria mundi. " Like the sun that shines with undying light On rocks, on waves, may shiver; Like the stars that bejewel the brows of night And gleam on a ceaseless river ; So burns the fame of heavenly hope And the storm of fate but fans it — Yy'hich aloiie with the darkness of death may cope, iTon cxli gloria, transit!" ~-M -^ 226 BONNIE JEAN; The feeling one has on earthly joys, and the wisdom of looking beyond the things of earth, struck Satanella's sinful soul with divine truth as she saug ; yet what had she to do with things of heaven ? The dying year was drawing its last gasping breath, the new smiled in its birth. Why not begin a new life, have done with that which was evil, and rely upon that only which was good ? Why not, indeed. Because of a sinful all-devouring love, because of jealousy and a vain striving to gain that which was justly another^s. For one fleeting moment Satanella's relentless heart softened. Should she leave Deepdane and sever the connection between Paul and herself, and try to begin a new life far away from temptation ? There was the yearning for a peaceful conscience, a quiet mind, a heart at ease in Mabel as there must ever be even in the worst among us. For a moment Satanella deemed it possible to give up all thought of taking Paul away from Jean ; but the idea became impossible and repugnant as she looked up at the handsome earnest face above her, for Paul had crossed the room to see the name of the song she sang, and she felt all her higher impulses fade before the might of her love, as a passion of tenderness surged up in her heart at sight of the smile that made the light of life for her. " Are you going to the midnight service, Mabel ? Dr. John, Hagar, and I are going, 'tis so beautifully fine and bright." Satanella shuddered ; the thought of the chapel-scene in the opera from which her pet, name, Satanella, had been derived was recalled to her vividly. What had she to do with churches or prayer, with an unholy love in her heart, and the fire of passion fevering her blood, and evil thoughts stirring her brain to madness ? She almost wished heaven's thunderbolt would strike her out of life as it did the Demon Page. Hagar saw her face upturned to Paul's full of love and passion, and hastily crossed to them, saying to Paul : " I think we might ventui-e to leave Jean for an hour or so to-night, she has taken a composing-draught, and V. s^ OHj THE POWER OF LOVE. 227 is likely to sleep for hours. She has been very restless all day, and her pulse is high, and she seems feverish ; perfect quiet alone can restore her.^' " Yes, I think Ave might go, I have just been asking Lady Dandergard to accompany us. Vi and Bertie Drake will call here before going ; they said we should be quite a pleasant party." "I would rather not go," said Satanella with a little shudder; " I have a cold and a headache. I mean to go to bed early and have a long rest." "I am sorry you do not feel up to it," said Paul as he sorted out some music, and Hagar looked enquir- ingly at him. Was his indifference real or affected, she wondered ; looking at his open honest face she was inclined to believe him. Just then a knock was heard, and directly after the footman announced Miss Brassy and Dr. Drake. Vi and Bertie came in like a gush of invigorating wind, both rosy and bright with exercise and enjoyment. They carried their skates, for a big pond had been frozen over, and they and some of their friends had enjoyed a splendid spin under t\\Q moonlight. '•' Oh, ^tis so delicious out, Mr. Martinet ! you ought to have been with us, we had torches, and oh, it was such fun flying over the ice in the sharp frosty air," said Vi, her rosy face dimpled with smiles. " V\\ have a turn presently. Miss Vi, since you advocate it. Pour out some wine. Dr. John, and persuade this energetic young person to partake of it, while I go and enquire how Jean is before we start. If she does not seem so well I shall ask you to excuse me." Lady Dandergard, Bertie, Dr. John, Hagar, and Vi stood round the blazing fire chatting merrily while Paul went to his wife's room. The nurse allo^ved him to peep at the sleeping pair, and Paul went away contented. It was a jolly walk across the frozen park ; they waited on the pond for about an hour skating, then had to run to ofet in time for church. s?- 228 BONNIE JEAN ; OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. They arrived rosy, bright, and breathless, Mr. Brassy gave them a reproacbful glance as they entered the rectory pew. The service was impressive ; as the clock struck the hour of midnight, everyone knelt in prayerful silence. Paul's thoughts were with his wife and child, his prayers were made up of supplication in their name; he felt hopeful, almost happy, as they left the church, and kind wishes for the coming year greeted him on every side. He was easily persuaded to go to the rectory, and stayed longer than he had intended hearing the girls sing. When Hagai', Dr. John, and he left the rectory, it was two o'clock and snowing fast. *'I wish you had allowed me to send for the carriage, Miss Hardheart; I am afraid you will take cold." " Not I, it will be a delightful walk, but we must keep to the road ; I think the snow lies less thickly there." Their voices sounded strange in the still heaviness of the air. A strange oppression seemed to have fallen upon them, perhaps the contrast of the warmth and brightness they had left with the coldness and gloom of the outer world had dulled their high spirits. Dr. John tried to make his companions talk, but ifc was a useless effort, so he sang a stirring song about a winter night. Paul took up the refrain, and the distant hills echoed back their voices, as though throwing the song in their teeth, indignant at the quietness of the night being dis- turbed by such sounds of revelry.' The snow deadened the sound of wheels, but Paul started as he saw his carriage spin past like a phantom ; the horses were flecked with foam, and the usually sedate and careful coachman was beating his horses till they tore away like mad beasts, " That Avas my carriage, Granger ; what can it mean — what can have happened ? Surely Jean is not worse. Pun, man — run for dear life. Miss Hardheart, excuse my leaving you, anxiety has given wings to my feet. Oh, my poor darling ! why did I leave her ? " CHAPTER XXXVII. EEN tlie little party started off for the ice- pond, and Mabel found herself alone, a restless dulness came upon her, that made her feel very unsettled and weary. Since that fatal night when she had given way to temptation, and tried to send Jean to her death, Satanella had suffered frequently from these savage fits of depression. It was not so much that she suffered remorse, but that she was angry that she had sinned and Jean suffered in vain. She had but little excuse to linger at Deepdane, yet she felt she could not bear her life apart from Paul. She pictured him sitting in this very room with Jean and her child ; she knew his heart would be irretrievably lost if Jean once put the rosy chains of wifely love about him with his boy on her bosom. Satanella suffered a torment of jealous pain at the thought of husband and wife living together in domestic happiness. " I should go mad if I, like the serpent of Eden, was cast out of a Paradise shai'ed by Paul. Truly he was right in saying I am an epigram,^^ she thought, re- calling the lines Paul had quoted to her : Follow a shadow, it still flies you ; Seem to fly it, it will pursue. "When he was all my own, I held his love lightly. When he offered to give up wealth, ambition, power for mj sake, to keep me true to myself and him, I gave him up — cast his love aside as a well-worn garment of which J had grown weary. Now he seems lost to me I would sell my soul to have him captive once again ! I know no peace, no joy, but iu his presence.. Jealousy con- sumes me like an unquenchable fire. I am worn with longing for his love, yet, maddening thought, it once -^ 230 " BONNIE jean; was all my own ! If that girl liad died, he would soon have forgotten her, and been happy with me. " I understand him, can charm his heai't out of his body, turn his brain, make him who is now my master the slave of my caprice, a puppet moved only by the power of love. Only a feeble flickering flame of life stands between me and my heart's desire ! If that little flauie were quenched, the obstacle gone, I could make my darlino- happy, as he will never be with that feeble creature he calls wife. Her life was once in my hand, but fate was against me. Oh, that the hour were mine again ; I would make my work sure ! Hark ! the hour of midnight. Ah, how Eolemn the bell sounds. " I once heard that a wish spoken with the last breath of the old year wa^ at once granted. Oh, that it were true — and that girl's life given iuto my hands ! How relentlessly I would cast her after the old yeai-, and begin afresh. Oh, to have her in my power for one hour ! Hark ! the last stroke, twelve times the clock has spoken, and the time is passed. What a ridicnlous superstition to be cherished in the nineteenth century ! Surely my brain is weaker than it was. I brood too much. I will drink some wiue." She poured out a glass of wine, and was about to put it to her lips, when there came a quiet knock at the door. The glass fell to her feet, casting a crimson stream on the polished floor. 'Ihe nurse entered, her comely face all beaming with cheerful smiles. " Oh, my lady, I made so bold as to come and ask a favour of you. I want to go dov.-nstairs for half-an- hour in the servants'-hall to drink success to the Isew Year, and I don't like to leave LIrs. Martinet alone, so I thought perhaps, as you are always so kmd, you might not mind taking my place." " Certainly 1 will, with pleasure. It must be dull for you to sit so much alone ; but you must promise not to say I stayed with my poor friend, for I said I was going- early to bed to cure a headache. What a deafenmg, distracting jingle those bells make — enough to madden anyoi?e ! I'll come at once ; leave me my directions." OR, THE POWER OP LOVB. 231 " Nothing, but that if the lady seems restless, there is a draught beside the bed for her to take ; she is very drowsy, does not really rouse up, will take the medicine quite quietly, and settle oif again without trouble. All signs of hysteria have passed, or I would not ask you to take my place." " All right ; just say you ran down for a chat while the lady slept, and let them think you left her alone. Mr. Martinet might be vexed with me for taking your place. Don't be long; they will be back almost directly; they are sure not to stay long at the rectory." With a beating heart Satanella hastened away. She went first to her own room, then she sought Jean ; her face was bloodless, and she crept to the fire shivering with cold. The fire in Jean's room burnt brightly, throwing flickering shadows on the bed where Jean lay in uneasy slumber, her baby at her breast. Jean was very wan and ill, and she moved her pretty head ceaselessly to and fro as though it pained her. Satan ella looked at her with a shuddering sigh. Why did she not die — why live to tempt her on to sin ? The baby awoke with a little wailing ciy, and Jean patted him off to sleep again. They were a very pretty pair, mother and child, as they lay together in their warm white nest, over which the ruddy firelight and the ruby-shaded lamp threw a fitful glow. The gems on Jean'sthin white hand glittered brightly, and her sweet lips were parted, showing the pearls beneath. Satanella looked at her critically. Certainly she was sweetly pretty ; Paul might think her charming if she could shake off the shadow this sickness had thrown upon her beauty, and be the bright Bonnie Jean of old. Bonnie Jean ! Bonnie Jean ! Bonnie Jean ! ticked the clock monotonously. Satanella bent over the sleeping woman and studied her critically ; her helplessness did not soften her hard heart, for did she not hold Paul's baby on her breast, and Avas she not what she most desired to be — Paul's wife ? -^ 232 BONNIE JEAN, Jean stirred in lier sleep, and seeing her likely to awaken, Satanella poured out her draught and held it towards her. Jean was now leaning drowsily upon her elbow, and did not look up, but took the draught, and was about to drink it when her eye caught the sparkle of the glittering gems upon the long, slender, cruel-looking hand. She then looked up with a start, her cheeks flushing, her eyes flashing tempestuously. Throwing the glass to the ground, she said sharply : " HoAv dare you come here ? Do you want to poison me ? " Satanella laughed a low unpleasant laugh, and said : " Poor girl, you ravo ; I cannot be angry with one who is not accountable for her actions. Had you not better take this other draught, and try to sleep ! You know excitement is veiy bad for you, and everyone is so tremendously anxious you should get well." " You lie, you false-hearted fiend. You know nothing would delight you and Paul more than to see my coffin shovelled out of sight ; but 1^11 live to spite you — live to rear my boy. God was wise in keeping innocent little children from such a mother as you would make." " You do not know that I am childless, ma petite. I may have a host of youngsters kept well in the back- ground. Ask Paul if I am childless; you see I keep no secret from him." Jean turned white ; the words were so spoken that they suggested a host of painful ideas that made Jean's brain whirl. She tried to calm herself, but could not ; she felt her throat swelling, and knew the wild excitement so fatal to her was coming on. Satanella's insolent beauty and calmly smiling face maddened her. " Say on, you cannot sink lower in my estimation than you now are. I knew you for a shameless woman, one who brings misery upon those who trust you most ; you are so deeply degTaded, so utterly beneath me, that I for ever refuse to hold converse with you. l\ing for my nurse, and leave this room at ouce. AYerc it not ~y^ OR; THE POWER OF LOVE. 233 that I wish to spare my husband exposure and scandal, I would order you to leave this house at once; you forget I am mistress here ! " " I forget nothing. You think I have wronged you ! I know you have wronged me. Paul loved me before he had ever seen your baby face ; he was tempted by your wealth, and married you, when by every right of love and honour he was mine. I forgave him — what will not love forgive ? — but I never forgot that had it not been for your accursed money he would have been true to me — true he is ; but the law has raised a barrier between us that ought never to have existed.^' '■'' What does that barrier matter to one so lost as you ? I know you for the vile adulteress you are. I know that Paul stayed with you when Hea.ven sent its scourge of fire upon you ; the knowledge of his treachery is killing me; but I fight against it for my child^s sake, and I will not have you stay here to madden me. The. world shall know you for the foul blot upon womanhood you are ; you shall not be free to pollute the homes and ruin the lives of good women." " Who will suffer most, you or I ? I have my pro- fession to fly to; the world will say your accusations are but the wild ravings of a jealous woman. Paul will hate you, and seek solace with me. Speak ! you cannot injui-e me, you will but bring punishment upon your- self ! The world were well lost for Paul's love to be secured ; had you any pride you would seek your free- dom ; the law is on your side, get a divorce — I will help you." " Yes, that Paul may be free to marry you. Never while I live shall you be his wife, nor after — I swear it by this little life God has sent to comfort me ! Paul swore solemnly to me the night my child was born that he would never marry you; he dare not break his oath.'^ Satanella had turned ghastly pale, and grasped the top of the chair on which she knelt with a convulsive grip. Could it be true that Paul had so bound himself ? Oh, impossible ! Besides, what were oaths against the power of love ? 234 BONNIE JEAN ; OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. Jean saw her face change, and said in an exultant voice : " You are foiled ! you hoped to see me die, to drive me to my grave, or a madhouse, that you might take my place, but you shall not. No, I am not the weak fool you imagine me, and I have right on my side." " I have Paul on mine." Satanella's cruel triumphant smile cut Jean to the heart; she was so ill, so lonely, so desperately wretched, and still so powerless for all the boast that she made of courage and security, and she loved her husband dearer than life, and it was the very bitterness of death to her to believe he cared more for Satanella than he did for her, his own young wife — the mother of his little help- less child ! Yet the thought of horror and hopelessness — what if he had other dearer pledges of love, that called Sata- nella mother ? Was it but a vain boast made to wound her ? Surely it could not be true ; if so, Paul must indeed be an accomplished villain, and she a more wronged and wretched woman than she had as yet reason to believe ; but if he were false enough to leave her for Satanella, what could he not do ? Suddenly she lost command of herself, and broke into a passionate fit of sobbing that ended in acute hysteria. The nurse came ; Satanella seemed grieved, said Jean had just awakened. The doctor was sent for in hot haste — the whole household was astir. "Do not say I took your place, nurse; say you only left her to get something for the sick-room, as all the maids were making merry below," said Satanella quickly ; then she bent over the bed where Jean lay in semi-insensibility, and said with that cruel smile of hers : " A Happy New Year, dear ! " Jean opened her eyes wildly, and with nervous force pushed Satanella from her. r CHAPTER XXXVIII. IHEN Paul reached home the doctor was with Jean, and she was more composed. Satanella had gone to her own room, and no one couhl account for the sudden out- burst o£ excitement. The nurse said she had only gone downstairs for a moment, leaving her patient fast asleep. The doctor looked grave, and questioned her closely. He knew her to be a careful, sober, clever nurse, and he did not care to attach blame to her, but he cautioned her severely, and left strict instructions as to her treatment of Jean. So alarmed was he on Jean's account, that he decided to remain at Deepdane till the morning. Hagar blamed herself for going out, and felt sus- picious of Satanella. But, according to all accounts, Lady Dandergard had not left her room, and Jean was too delirious to explain. Paul was terribly upset about her. He had hoped the dano-er was past, and his heart sank when the doctor said to him : " Your wife must be humoured ; she has many strange fancies; one is a most firmly-rooted objection to you. You had better keep out of her room, and see that no one sees her who would be likely to cause her any un- pleasant emotion. Miss Hardheart and the nurse are to be trusted to take care o£ your wife, who, by- the-bye — pardon my mentioning it — seems strangely possessed by an idea that you have other chil- dren." ' ■ Paul turned pale, and bit his lip nervously, while the doctor placidly sipped his wine, and continued : " Of course, as a medical man, I naturally hear many family secrets, which, I need not say, are sacred to me. 236 BONNIE JEAN ; I fear, from what I hear from your young wife^ she has a burden of sorrow on her mind." Paul was about to speak when the old doctor's upraised hand checked him, and the doctor went on in his tranquil way: " As I was about to remai-k, men of the world such as we think differently of things. We should, I am sure, be sorry to have our womenkind see things in the same light that we do ; it would not bo consistent with the purity and innocence of their minds. I want to speak plainly, but find it is a difficult and delicate task. I want — I see you will not help me — to suggest that if you have had any entaiiglements prior to marriage, for you to promise your wife that the connection is, or shall be, broken off. She will never get well while she grieves over any secret trouble. Forgive me if I have touched too rudely upon so delicate and private a matter ; believe me, I have only your wife's interest at heart. I have known her ever since she was a child ; and I have daughters and a dear wife of my own. Married miseiy is, in my sight, the height of all unhappiness ! " "My dear sir, do not ask my forgiveness for per- forming what is a duty. I assure you I have no entanglements. What follies I committed before marriage — and I confess I was not a Joseph — I, of course, ended before I took Jean Pridie to. wife. I love my wife dearly, and would not wrong her by word or deed. I am afraid someone has been poisoning her mind against me. We were happy enough until this illness. She seems to have got into a morbid state of mind ; her illness must be to blame for it. I know 'tis not my fault ; I would die gladly to save her pain. Is it reasonable that I should wrong her ? Is she not all that could content a man ? I respect and love her too much to risk losing her affection and esteem. I am most miserable on her account. A jealous wife is a great misfortune." ''Mt is; but before v/e condemn her jealousy, we should seek the reason of it. I pity the i^oor girl from the bottom of my heart. She is not one Avho is usually fanciful or capricious. She was always of a just and ■^ OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 237 unsuspicious nature. She is so lonely, too, without a relative or friend to cheer her. Her husband must be more to her than to those who have other ties. The child will be a comfort to you both." "God knows we need comfort/' said Paul, drearily. It seemed a miserable look-out, this NeAV Year's night. He saw no ray of light in the distance, all seemed dark; and a despairing pain crept into his heart — an unbidden, but an abiding guest. He did not think Mabel could have been playing the traitress ; he trusted her only too well. He longed to see Jean, and assure her of his love and faith; but she shrank from him as from her greatest enemy, and he feared to upset her by persisting in his request. Satan ell a, now that the excitement had passed off, felt anxious about the effect of the scene she had passed through with Jean upon Paul's friendship with her, should he know of it. She had tipped the nurse handsomely, and learned that Jean would not see Paul, and that so far her share in that night's work was unknown. She was scheming now to increase her hold on Paul, and darker thoughts still whispered to her of possible success. How soon evil loses its horror to one who has once trodden on the downward track ! Mabel could now calmly look upon the possibility of helping on Jean's death. She felt fate was against her, and that the good Providence had already prevented the success of her evil plans. Never, while life lasted, did she forget the dreariness of that New Year's day. The household was as silent as the grave, and when some of them met at meals there seemed a weight upon their spirits impossible to over- come. When the doctor brought a slightly better account of Jean, everyone but Satanella brightened up. Satanella followed Paul to the smoking-room after dinner, and throwing herself on a lounge by the blazing log-fire, said ; ^- 238 BONNIE JEAN; " Paulj liglit me a cigarette, and make me a glass of something hot ; I want to talk to you about business." Paul did as she desired in dull silence, then looked at her with a wan smile, saying : " I don't feel up to talking business to-night, Mab ; I am fairly tired of everything." " Utter nonsense ! Rouse yourself, man ! You cannot be tired of the profession you love, or the bright young life, full of grand possibilities, that is yours. I won't encourage your stupidity. If all men got the ' hump ' like you when their wives were sick, what a miserable place the world would be ! Jean will be all right ; people often suffer horribly with their first baby, but they rarely die; she will pull through, never fear. Now, if she were the poor mother of a dozen little desolate souls, all dependent upon her, she would most likely die — such is life, you know." Here she crossed her pi-etty feet on a chair at the foot of the couch, and dismissed the subject with an impatient sigh. There was silence some time between them, then Paul said, brushing his hair back from his forehead wearily : " You said something about business, Mab ? " '' Yes ; I was thinking you told me you had some heavy payments to meet at once. Now, you can hardly bother your wife about money matters at present, so you had better let me fill up a cheque for you." " But you have already put too much into the affair, Mab; I hardly feel justified in using your money. Suppose we were to have a run of ill-luck and lose all ? " "Don't suppose it for one moment; besides, we are partners in this ; we sink or swim together. Paul, for Heaven's sake don't take away my only interest in life by shutting me out of your life in London ! " " I do not wish to do that, Mab ; but really this is a very heavy sum." "What does that matter? If I don't mind, need you ? '' " I suppose not ; but yet " ' But yet ' is a bad beginning to a graceful speech. Come, consider the matter settled." -^ ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 239 "You shall have my bond, fair lady," said Paul, playfully, and she, in the same spirit, answered : " Set your seal upon these lips that love you. There can be no better bond of good faith than a sincere caress.'^ She held out a white hand to him, and pouted a pair of vivid lips. Quite carelessly he stooped and kissed her, then she wound her arms about his neck, and whispered words to him that made him find it a hard task to be stern with her. The door opening sharply, caused Paul to turn round hastily. It was Hagar, with his infant son in her arras. She looked from one to the other with comprehensive eyes, then said nervously : "I thought you would like to see the baby, Mr. Martinet." " A kind thought of yours, Hagar ; bring him to the fire." Hagar sat down on a low chair Paul placed for her, and tenderly nncovered the little rosy infant. '^May I takS him, Hagar?" said Paul, looking lovmgly down at the bonnie wee thing as it layblinkiu^ in the fire-light. "^ Satauella watched him lift his little sou in his arms with a bitter feeling of defeat ; this innocent love of his for his child made her mad passion seem all the more evil by contrast. Love for a child often extends by very sjTnpathy to the mother, and Mabel felt that this new tie, nnless she interposed to prevent it, would soon drav/ husband and wife closer together. Satanella's face hardened as she looked at the man she loved, his face was so soft and bright as one upon whom heaven smiles. He lifted the soft baby-fingers to his lips and sighed; in his heart he sent the kiss to the soft bosom upon which the baby-fingers so often rested. " How is my wife now, Hagar ? " ''Better, we hope, she is sleeping quietlv; Avere she not so sound asleep I should not have dared' to bring the boy away; she seems afraid .some one will harm him. I 240 BONNIE JEAN; OR^ THE POWER OF LOVE. believe she fancies Lady Dandergard means to kidnap him." Maloel tried to smile as she said : "Mrs. Martinet need not fear that I covet anything that is hers." " There are thefts of love/' said Hagar meaningly. Again Paul coloured hotly, but Satanella only laughed that low mocking laugh of hers, and said that Miss Hardheart chose to be mysterious. Presently a bell rang sharply, and Hagar hastily took the child from Paul, saying : "Nurse said she would ring when our patient woke." " I hate that woman, Paul ; she is a busybody, a sus- picious cantankerous toad ; I should like to shake her. Don't you see she is a spy creeping about in slippered feet, listening and looking for harm where none exists." " You wrong her, Mabel ; she is a good, honest, tender-hearted soul, full of kindness and charity. Don't be unjust, Mab." " 'Tis strange how much evil you find in me since you married a saint, yet once you found the sinner, bewitch- ing." "Mab, you promised to let the dead past bury its dead; do not try to warm yourself by the ashes of a burut-out passion. Come, do not look so vexed; come and play a game of billiards." NOTICE.— This Work will be published every Wednesday. Orders should he given to youx Bookseller early. BONNIE JEAN. No. IX. CHAPTER XXXIX. |HIS is a letter from Dr. Joliu, Jeannie dear, asking me if I can be spared to go home for a week to make the final arrange- ments for our wedding." Hagar, her face flushed into positive beauty, stood beside Jean in the pretty bedchamber that had been beautified for its young mistress until it looked a fairy bower with its rose-silk curtains, snowy laces, and soft white fur mats. Jean w-as sitting up for the first time ; she looked very fragile and spiritual in her soft quilted white satin robe. She held her baby to her bosom, and both her pretty slippered feet were on the marble fender. A pet canary was singing sweetly in a gilded cage, and the bright firelight flashed upon the polished mirror. Hagar looked unusually well in a soft clinging cash- mere dress of ruby colour, with old lace at wrists and throat, and she held in her hand a big bunch of snow- drops and violets Paul had given her to take to Jean. " I am sorry to part with you, Hagar, you have been so sweetly good to me, dear ; but of conrse you must go. You will come back and be mai-ried from here — remember, you promised that long .ago. I wish Lady Daudergard had gone ; I hate to be left in the same house with her. Paul sends me word she is gning at the end of the month ; she has taken a house close to Prim- rose Hill, and will go on the stage in Paul's new piece directly her year of mourning is up. I hate the idea of their acting together, I shall give him up to her altogether; a husband is one of the things a woman cannot share with another. I shall get Mr. Dove to do all the legal business, and free Paul as far as I can." ''Oh, my dear, do not talk like that; he loves you dearly ; he is not to blame, whatever is wrong. See ^ -m LONNIE JEAN; OE^ TUE POWER OF LOVE. 243 him, and tell him what you suspect and begin afresh, Marriago is a life-long contract, not to be put off and on like a garment as the wearer pleases. If 30U send Paul out free to fall a prey to temptation, you help on his ruin, for ruin it will be, body and soul. Put the thought that he loves you before all others, and act up to that thought." "He does not love me, Hagar; if he did he would get rid of that woman ; his is but a pretence of affection. You know it is my money and not my love that Paul wants to keep ; he is ambitious and desires in- iependence." "A very honourable desire in a man, dear. I am iorry you put the question of money in the matter ; mischief always comes of such ideas between married folks. I say by all means rid yourself of Satauella, but give Paul another trial. If you don't like the idea of the'r acting together again, after the success of the piece is secured, get Paul to engage another actor in his place. I heard him tell Dr. John he had signed an agreement with Lady Dandergard, so that he could not legally dismiss her; besides, half the value of the play is in her part; he wrote it for her, and all London will rush to see a lady of title star it on the stage." " I hate the stage, and all belonging to it ! " "Then you should not have married an actor." "I suppose not, but since I have, the best thing is to see how to get rid of him." Jean spoke coldly, yet Hagar guessed at the miserable ache of her heart, and pitied her profoundly. Jean had an idea that if she were really separated from Paul she might feel happier, and meant to try, for she had her child to love and live for, and anything was better, she felt, then the perpetual misery of being near one she so dearly loved, and yet live apart from him as her wrongs made her do. He was the father of her child, therefore she did not wish to make him the subject of public scandal, neither was it her wish to deprive him of the power her money gave him. She meant to divide her income equally, and live at Deepdane while he lived in Lotidon. » ^ ^ 244 BONNIE JEAN ; She had been engaged that very morning making a clear statement of her wishes for her lawyer, and writing a letter to Paul explaining her intentions. She fancied he would be glad to be released from the restraint of her presence, and she felt it would be better he should sin while apart from her than shame himself and her by perpetual deceit and cruel treachery. She was afraid to tell Paul ; she knew the sight of his beloved face, the eloquence of his dear voice, would make her weak as water, and she told herself he was too good an actor to let her read his heart. No, she would not give herself a chance of softening, she would let her lawyer act for her, and maintain her decision at any cost. Paul should see she could respect herself if he could not respect her; she was not a weak child to kiss the rod that smote her. Seeing her set face Hagar feared she would carry out her ideas, so she said coaxingly : '^ Jean, dearie, promise you will do nothing till you have seen John ; if you need a friend to act for you, let him be that friend.^' " Ah, but, man like, his sympathies are with Paul." " Nonsense, Jean ; he is too just, too honourable, to hold with anything wrong, but if he seems to side with Paul, it is because he believes you judge him too harshly. He may be right; after all, jealousy is like a smoked glass; it darkens all that is seen through it." " I will promise one thing, dear : I will not do any- thing without your knowledge — tliat is all I can say. I must live in peace if I cannot be happy. You will not be long away, Hagar ? " " Not more than three or four days, dear ; nurse will take care of you for me while I am gone." '^ Yes; she is very kind. I think, if she will stay, I shall engage her permanently, to take care of baby. I suppose he must be christened soon. I mean to call him Pridie Martinet." "Have you told Paul what you wish to call him ? " "No; I will write. I don't fcuppose he cares. He nay have other children by a dearer mother.^" if OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 245 " Oil, how suspicious you are, Jeannie — wiclS— JS 248 BONNIE JEAN; " Certainly I will, nurse. What a beautiful moonlight night it is ! I envy Dr. Drake his walk back/' "Yes, it is a lovely night, but bitterly cold/' "I do not feel it," said Satanella with a smile, dancing away gay as a child. The nurse watched her descend the stairs lightly as a swallow skims the sea, heard the soft bright little song- sang in her rich sweet voice, and went into the silent sick chamber with a sigh. " I need not ask how you are, Lady Dandergard, you look so well," said Bertie Drake, shaking hands with the lovely actress, admiration in his eyes. Satanella was really looking lovely, and seemed in her wildest, brightest spirits. Dr. Di'ake had ridden to Deepdane from the rectory with a message from Vi for Jean. Vi had a horrible cold and could not keep her engagement, but sent all sorts of kind messages. " How is Mrs. Martinet ? " " Much better, I believe ; nurse gives a good account of her. Won't you take your coat off and' have some wine ?" " I think I will, you look so cosy here. Come, I chal- lenge you to a game of chess," he said, sitting down by a chess-table that stood near the fire, and arranging the men as he sjDoke. His pleasant face looked so cheery and companionable that Satanella felt she would do anything to detain him, for she feared to be left alone. Never had she been in better spirits, laughing, talk- ing, humming snatches of songs, and altogether making herself so distractingly charming that Bertie felt be- witched. She, like the syren she was, cast her spell upon him, while he yielded to her glamourie, and whole- some honest Vi was forgotten. " Check ! "5 cried Satanella, meeting his ardent eyes with flushed and radiant looks. *'We will not play again to-night, mine must be the victory. I will sing to you— shall I ? " " Do ; you know what a pleasure your songs are to me. Sing that pretty fresh song you sang at Brassy's ^ J^_„ ^ OBj THE POT^■ER OF LOVE. 249 the other night, it has been running in my head ever since." Satanella sat down, ran her white fingers over the keyboard, then with the throbbing melody of a bird, sang sweetly. She was nervous and distracted all at once, and Bertie, wondering at the cause, took up the refrain brightly. Why did Satanella stand with bent head and fearful expectant eyes ? What, was she listening and waiting for? " Hark ! " she said in an awestruck tone ; " did you hear anyone call ? Surely someone is waiting outside. Give me a glass of wine ; I feel faint. Quick, quick ! I would not'be ill for worlds to-night." Amazed at this sudden change in her, Bertie hastily put her in a chair, gave her wine, and fanned her. The awful pallor of her face, her great startled eyes, with their steely snake-like gleam, repelled Bertie. What a strange creature this was, and what won- derful eyes she had, clear crystal grey, with just that faint tinge of green one sees in deep water. " I am better now. How capricious you must think me! The fact is I am nervous through being alone all day, and I suffer so often now with a spasm" — here she laid her hand on her heart — " that is bad to bear." " You must take more care of yourself, you are too excitable ; you should live quietly." "Quietude would kill me; there is quiet— eternal quiet in the grave. Life was made for activity ; rest and rust is not my motto." " Hark ! " " Yes there is someone now. I will see what they want." Bertie went to the door, opened it quickly, and asked anxiously : " What is the matter ? You look scared. Have you seen a ghost?" Jean's nurse stood outside, ashen white and trembling like a reed : -K 250 BONNIE JEAN; " Oh, sir, send Lady Dandergard to Mrs. Martinet at once, she wants her. Oh, she is in such a mad mood she fairly frightens me. She has sent me to get her mustard-and-water and milk, and she will walk about the room with nothing on but her nightgown. Oh, I wish the master was here ! I don't know how to manage her.'-' Satanella had joined them and stood between with a cold intent look in her eyes as though she saw some scene of horror invisible to their eyes. She pulled herself together with an effort, saying : "Nurse, you ought to have more nerve; how can you expect to control your patient when you cannot com- mand yourself ? I will go to your mistress— follow me." " Shall I come too, Lady Dandergard ? " asked Bertie, who was anxious about Jeannie. " No, not yet. If you can do any good I will send for you. On second thought, nurse, do your mistress's bidding; I will go to her alone. Poor girl, I hope she will not have a relapse." AVhen Satanella and the nurse had left him, Bertie paced the room impatiently ; he was terribly anxious about his playfellow, poor "Bonnie Jean, and wondered what had gone wrong with her. Satanella went up the stairs, halting on every step ; her eyes were hard, pitiless, defiant, her face perfectly bloodless. Excellent actress as she was, she had a difficulty in controlling her emotion ; she could have cried aloud in the agony of her fear and dread. But she did not ; she only pressed her hand on her heart, compressed her stiff lips, and went doggedly on to meet her fate face to face. . She found Jeannie in a state of excitement bordering on frenzy. She was clinging to.the rail at the foot of the bed, her wild white face and horrified eyes turned to the door. As Satanella entered, she stood erect, a gleam of hatred in her dark eyes, " So you have come to look upon your work, mur- deress ! Ah, I know you ! You have succeeded at last; 1^ ~^ OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 251 Could of sill I have taken tlie poison you put in my glass, already tlie agony is tearing my very heart asunder. You shall not go unpunished, you shall stay and see me die. Are you afraid of death ? It must come to you some day ; do you think you will be happy when your work is done and you have your lover to yourself again ? No ; I will haunt you ; he shall know and loathe you as I do, you demon woman, you white fiend ! Oh, oh ; the pain — the pain ; I cannot bear it. Heaven have mercy, kill me quickly ! Oh, my God, the bitterness of death is upon me ! Spare me — spare me this horror, this fear. Oli, I am so young to die ! Save me from my fearful fate ! " Jean had thrown herself upon her bed, her tender limbs convulsed with pain. Satanella looked on like a woman turned to stone, such suffering appalled her. She thought her heart was hard as adamant, but she found it melting with pity, weakened by remorse. Should she give up all at the eleventh hour ? she not part husband and wife without the murder ? Ah, surely it was too late ; already the delicate form lay still, prone upon the bed, its pearly limbs relaxed from the rigour of pain. She bent over Jean, and said quickly : " Why do you accuse me, Jean ? " " Because I know you came into my room when nurse was away — because you sought my life once before. I thought I was safe from you, but I was not. Oh, it was cruel — cruel to make my baby motherless ! Would Paul keep an oath ? " " Yes ; why not ? " " Then you will have sinned in vain, for he SAVore to me in God^s name and by the innocent life of his son that he would never marry you ; were I to die to-morrow you would still be separated by his oath." Satanella started back in horror. Jean again was convulsed with pain. The nurse entered silently. Satanella motioned ber away imperiously; then, bending over Jean, said in a low -distinct voice : »- 252 BONNIE JEAN; " Denounce me if you dare^ and brand your son as tlie cliild of a murderer ! I am but Paul's accomplice. He instructed me to kill you ; but the poison is slow ; you have not taken it all. I will see you saved if you promise to say you took it yourself in a moment of jealous excitement. Life is precious ; you are young. Choose quickly — life, and the blame of this, to save Paul ; or death, and leave your Avild accusation to be con- sidered the raving of an unhinged mind. Dr. Drake is below ; he will keep council. Let me take some of the stuff to him, and ask him to save you. He will be secret. Think ; is not life sweet ? " " For my child's sake I consent. But life is not sweet to a woman who has lost her husband's love and pity. Since he wishes me dead, I will be dead to him. I will never see him again. I will keep your cruel secret. It is hard to brand myself with the sin of the suicide, but I would do more for my boy's sake. Quick ; go to him. Tell him what you will, only save me — save me from this torment ! " " You must not give way, Jean. Get up ; walk about ; drink this emetic. I will send Dr. Drake to you. Say nothing to the nurse ; avoid scandal ; none need know but Dr. Drake." Swift as lightning- Satanella left the room, sent the nurse in, then ran down to the drawing-room. Dr. Drake was walking about excitedly. He asked directly he saw her : " What news of Jean ? Is she better ? What is wrong with her ? How white you are ! " Satanella sank down at his feet in a passion of tears, saying in a tone of entreaty : " Oh, Dr. Drake, what shall I do ? That poor foolish child, in a fit of insane jealousy, has tried to poison her- self. Make haste — save her for my sake. If she dies I shall feel her death lie heavy on my conscience. See, that is what she has taken ! " She hastily took a bottle from her pocket. It con- tained a clear colourless liquid. Bertie was calm now; all his professional instincts were aroused. ^ ^ §i »- -SSI ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 253 He hastily uncorked the bottle, put his finger to the mouth of it,«smelt, and tasted it, then quietly littmg Satanella to her feet, said : " Bid a man ride, as for life, to my father, and bring back the things I will name here." , , , ^ He wrote rapidly on a leaf of his pocket-book, tore it out and gave it to' Mabel, who in breathless haste sent a groom with it, saying his mistress was worse, and needed immediate help. • ■ , -, j Then she crept up to the door of Jeannie s bed- chamber, and listened. i • • - She heard Bertie's deep kind voice speaking m tones of encouragement ; saw, through the open door, that he was alone with Jean, helping her about, supporting her on his strong arm, and talking earnestly to her m that gentle tender way the sick and poor knew so well. She heard Jean say : , . i, ,-, ^ • i j " What can you think of me ? But His all that wicked- woman's fault. I will never willingly look upon her face again ; she must leave my house to-morrow ; dead or alive, we cannot rest under the same roof. You may tell my husband of this attempt upon my life ; he will understand why I was driven to it. Oh, the cruel ^\heii there was the sound of sobbing, and with a shudder Satanella crept into an adjoining room which was used for a nursery. -,■,-,■ Here she found the nurse, upset and excited, hushmg Jean's child on her motherly bosom. . i, i.- " Oh, my lady ! what is the meaning of all this bother?" , , ^„ " My good soul, I know no more than you do. it you would take my advice you would hear, see, and say nothing. Mrs. Martinet is in good hands; she will be all right soon. For my part, I am sick of such scenes ; I shall get back to town to-morrow ; that excitable capri- cious young woman would wear out nerves of iron. I will leave you my address; when you can be spared come to me on a visit ; your patient kindness to Mrs Martinet is beyond praise, it has made me your friend for life. I am going to my room ; bring word when your »v> »r -k 254 BONNIE JEAN; OR; THE POWER OF LOVE. lady is better, I am anxious for news. I am writing to Mr, Martinet for her to-niglit, and want to give him fullest particulars. He will be disappointed ; he hoped his wife had turned the corner, and would soon be well. It is bad for him to be tied to such a sick and fanciful woman ; I wonder he has patience with her." " Well, ^tis true she is very trying, my lady, and Mr. Martinet is very sweet-tempered to her." " Sweeter than she deserves," said Satanella shortly, as she passed to her room, her brain on fire, a deep resentment in her heart. Paul had sworn never to marry her ! Then he had discussed her with his wife — a meanness he would live to repent bitterly, thought Satanella, as she clenched her small hands silently, but furious with defeat, dis- appointment, and rage. " What will Paul say when he hears his wife's jealousy has led her to attempt her life ? " she asked herself. Hers was a desperate venture. She must manage Jean cleverly, or exposure would be her portion. -a s^ -^ CHAPTER XL. URSE, get me pen^ ink, and paper; I must write some letters. What time did Lady Dandergard start ? '^ " Two hours ago, ma'am ; Dr. Drake drove her to the station in his dogcart. I heard him say he had business in town, and would escort her there." Jean lay among her pillows pale and wretched ; she had not slept since the awful time when she believed her young life had been wrenched from her. Only that morning she had received a note of farewell from Satanella, and a visit from Bertie Drake, who had talked wisely and well to her of what he supposed her insane attempt at suicide. Jean had listened in silence, heartsick and ashamed that he should believe her capable of such sin, yet to vindicate herself she must confess Paul's wickedness and Satanella's hold upon him. She did not doubt that Paul was in league with Satauella, for Satanella had sent her a letter in Paul's handwriting that read thus : '• Deae Mab, — I send what yon asked ine for ; be careful how you give it. I almost think it would be best to leave it till I return. Jean might make a scene with you ; I can manage it better. Everything all right at the Bonville ; old pals asking anxiously after you. I shall be glad to have you in town again. Tlie house will be habitable in a few days. — With kind love, yours ever, " Paul." This, reading it as Jean read it, with a conviction of Paul's guilt already firmly rooted in her mind, seemed conviction strong as proof of holy writ. She determined never to see her husband again, and to gain her freedom somehow, but for the child's sake she would avoid exposure. ^- -^ y- 256 BONNIE jean; She thouglit Paul would need no accuser^ iis con- science would sliame him. Oh, it was horrible to think he longed for her death that he might marry his mistress ! Night and day the thought burned into Jean's brain like a consuming fire ; a feverish energy possessed her. She wrote quickly and clearly, then lay down like a dead woman, weary, heart-broken, and despairing. Meanwhile Satanella and Bertie Drake were going to London at express speed. Bertie found the lovely lady very charming, she seemed in the highest spirits, chatting gaily and singing snatches of songs in a sweet low voice. " We will go to the Bonville ; Paul is sure to be there about three. He keeps my favourite bi-and of champagne, and can get us a delicious luncheon from the Grand. Have you ever been in a theatre by day- light ? " " No." " Then it will be amusing to you ; my friend Mr. Merrick is great larks, and you would hardly know Paul when he is among what he calls his playfellows. We will take a hansom. I love hansoms. I keep a private one myself. I am afraid Paul will be terribly cut up about his wife. The fact is their marriage was a mistake, there is someone else whom Paul cares for and can't get rid of; and really I think the wisest way would be for Paul and Jean to separate till they can come together unfettered. I can't imagine anything more miserable than two people living together in enmity." " Nor I," said Bertie thoughtfully ; he was picturing Jean as a happy wife with someone who would have loved and been true to her, and he felt incensed against Paul for blighting her life. They rode in silence for some moments. Satanella was afraid she had gone too far in accusing Paul, and so said, laying her soft hand on Bertie's : " Of course, what I said of Paul was said in confi- dence, he would be bitterly hurt if he thought such an old friend as I could side against him; but being a woman my sympathies are with Jeannie. She is so ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 257 sweetly good she dcperves every liappiness in life, and really I believe it is foi' her good to separate from Paul, for a time at least ; just now he is not in a frame of mind to have the care of her. Surely he must come to his senses some day, at any rate. We must put him out of the question, and think only of Jean. Here we are ! You would not think, looking at it from the outside, that the Bonville is one of the prettiest theatres in London." Satauella jumped out, and, while Bertie paid the cabman, ran up the steps and into the hall, where she found Paul chatting* with an eminent comedian. "^ Whatever brought you to town in such a hurry, Mab ? How is Jean ? " "Very well. I came up because I feared I should die of dulness. A friend of yours brought me. Ah, here he is ! While I look up Sophy, you can talk to Paul, Dr. Drake. I suppose Sophy is here, Paul ? " " Yes ; in the green-room, with her usual court about her. You will be hailed with delight. Come into my sanctum. Dr. Drake." Paul led the way through a dim corridor to a bright little room, where every conceivable litter lay about: satin shoes, pieces of music, a desk strewn with letters, some questionable sketches of favourite actresses, play- bills, posters, pots of flowers in bloom, and a quantity of books, pipes, canes, and boots. The room was snug, and by an open window, on a table, stood some glasses, decanters, and unopened bottles of wine. -Paul took a stage-costume off a chair, and asked Bertie to be seated; then he pushed a box of prime cigars towards him, and began to open a bottle of wine, saying, as he broke the wire with the champagne- nippers : " I hope you have good news to give me of my poor little woman ? " " I wish to God I had, old fellow. The fact is I've come on deuced unpleasant business, pressed into the affair entirely against my will, by my old playfellow, Bonnie Jean. Give me a glass of wine; shut the door. ^ 258 BONNIE JEAN J and assure me we are safe from listeners, and I'll tell you all about it/^ Paul did as desired in silence ; his heart sank at sight of his friend's sober face ; some presentiment whispered to him that there was misfortune in store for him. Paul lighted his pipe with an unsteady hand, and prepared to listen, saying as he crossed his legs and leant back luxuriously in his easy-chair : " Fire away, old fellow, I am all attention. We are safe from interruption here ; no one dare intrude after I have ' sported the oak,' as we say at the 'Varsity." Bertie drank his wine at a draught, and leaning his elbow on the table bent forward toward Paul, saying in a quiet expressive tone : "Martinet, what trouble has your wife that is serious enough to cause one so pure and good as she to attempt to take her own life ? " "Attempt to take her own life? What, my Jean ! You are mad, man ; she would shrink with horror from the sin of it. My wife is no coward. What can make you think so meanly of her ? " Paul had turned white as death, and his hand shook as he poured out another glass of wine. "I am no more mad than you are. Martinet; the fact is your wife poisoned herself last night." ''But is not dead? Speak, for God's sake; the sus- pense is killing me." " Then you would be sorry if she died ? " " Sorry ! why, I love her dearer than my own soul. Sorry ! what a meek word to attempt to describe so intense an horror — so awful a pain. She is not dead ? You would not dare to face me so calmly if she were — if you have a human heart in your bosom." "No, she is not dead, fear or paia frightened her into confessing what she*had taken to me. I was luckily (if there is such a thing as luck in the grand scheme that governs the Universe) at your house an hour after she had taken what she firmly believed to be her death potion, but thank Heaven! she relented at the last moment. For my own part, I believe the poor child's brain was turned with misery, and that fear of death, i ^ _ — . — _ — __ __J^ OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 250 when the first agony of it came to her, opened lier eyes to her sin. Lady Dandergard and I are the only two besides yourself who will ever know of this mad- ness. " To prevent a repetition of such a domestic tragedy, your wife demands a separation, much against. my will, jfor I have a sincei'e regard for you both. She has chosen me to be her advocate in this delicate mission. I can't tell you how sorry I am for you, old fellow ; it is a bad business from beginning to end, and the only chance of winning your wife in the end is to humour her now. " She is very ill, her brain is turned by jealousy and disappointment ; it is firmly set on this one idea — ^to free herself from you. I firmly believe if she does not get her own way she will cause some scandal, openly leave your protection, try to obtain a divorce, or do something disgraceful. A jealous woman is a dangerous thing, capable of any madness. My advice is, humour her for a time, and try to win her afresh when this insane idea has died out.'' "But what have I done to deserve this at her hands ? I swear to you I have never been false to our marriage- vows. I truly love my wife, and respect her too much to do anything that would make me unfit to be her husband. What can I do with such a woman ? What can she accuse me of ? Oh, 'tis all a horrible injustice." For an instant Paul paused, deeply pained, then added excitedly : " Someone is working against me ; I am in the dark as to their motive, but I am sure my poor Jean would never be so cruel to me if she were not under some evil influence. I will see her, swear my innocence upon my knees, if need be. I cannot allow this mis- understanding to part us ; I cannot live without my darling, and I was so full of hope of a happy future now there is a new tie ; surely our child must be some bond — surely her heart must soften towards me for our child^s sake ? A separation will ruin both our lives. I will not consent to it. I will go home at once, and try to reason with her." » ^ 260 BONNIE JEAN; OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. " If you take my advice you would do iiotliing of the kind. As a medical man I tell you you must not, unless you wish to unsettle lier reason, and perhaps kill her outright. She is in a highly nervous state ; her life depends on perfect tranquility ; she would only fly in a rage at sight of you, and undo all the good I have tried to do her. There is no argument I have not urged in your favour. She is as firm as a rock ; she will not see you, and she insists upon an immediate and complete separation. If you take my advice you would do as she desires. I honestly assure you I believe her life depends upon your giving way to her in this." " But to give way to her is equal to saying I deserve her desertion ; and I do not. You would not have me condemn myself unjustly ? I cannot do that." "But you can consent under protest; it is your only way. Jean said to me before I left her : * Tell Paul, if he will not consent to separate, he will drive me from my home, blight my good name, and make my life more wretched than it now is. I know I do right in leaving him; I must act up to my principles, which are self- respect and honest right-feeling. To live with Paul now would be to condemn myself to what I consider a life of shame. I should feel degraded, and worthy of the contempt of all right-feeling women — unworthy of the name of Pridie ! ' " " Hang the name of Pridie ! " said Paul, indignantly. " I am not to be sacrificed on the domestic altar. I cannot submit to such a stupid arrangement. Why, I do not even know of what she accuses me ! " t. Bertie was puzzled. He had a firm conviction that Paul was in the wrong, yet who, in the face of his pro- test, would think ill of him ? Yet, right or wrong, he knew Jean must be humoured, and so resolved to stand by her to the last. a ^- CHAITER XII. lOU assure me my "wife will not see me ? It is very cruel of her ; I am sure I could convince her of her mistake." " Mrs. Martinet has left EuQ-land for a ■-^■^ time, to try a warmer climate ; all your letters are returned unopened. I do not understand the oifence she has against you, I can only express my sym- pathy with your anxiety, and bid you wait and hope, trusting to time and your wife's love for you to mend matters." The scene was Mr. Dove's office in Staples Inn. The old lawyer looked very uneasy; he could not divest his mind of the idea that Jean had been unjust to Paul, and Paul's haggard face and earnest manner impressed him painfully ; he had even gone so far as to write to Jfean on his account, and ask her to recon- sider her decision. "Only see the man, dear child, and let him speak for himself ; no one should be condemned unheai'd, and 'tis enough to send a man to the dogs to be treated as you are treating your husband. His offence must be serious indeed if it is beyond a loving woman's pardon." But Jean had passed by the old man's appeal in silence, merely remarking casually in her letter that if he gave her address to Paul it Avould compel her to move away from her present resting-place, a pretty village in the South of France. Jean had arranged to return to Deepdane Avhen the gossip her separation from Paul occasioned had time to blow over. She hoped to be back by harvest-time, and trusted in time to find peace, if not content. She was greatly altered ; from a sensitive loving girl, she had become a resolute suffering woman — strong to endure, difficult to persuade. She suffered in silence, -S5 2G2 BONNIE jean; devoting lier time to lier boy. Her love for Paul had become stronger, yet she dared not confess to herself her own weakness, her j^earning to be reconciled. She steeled her heart against him by thinking of her wrongs, his treachery, and the sinful passion for another that had tempted him to try and take her life, just at the time Avhen she needed his love and care most. " Oh, how could he be so cruel to me ? f What had I done to deserve it ? I only loved him better than life ; but I stood -between him and Satanella ; my love was a sin against her.'' Thus Jean hardened her heart against her husband, and, as weeks drifted into months, gradually grew resigned to her widowed lot. Her boy Avas a great com- fort to her, and still Jean stayed on with Eliza Large at the pretty cottage by the sea, in the sunny South of France. Siowly health and strength returned to her, and with them a more matured beauty and a greater strength of character. She had become self-reliant, reserved, and cold ; brooding over her wrongs had made her bitterly resentful. She was so young to have her life stripped of all romance — made a barren waste ! How different all might have been had she found a pure life, a perfect love ! Dr. John and Hagar Hardheart were coming to Jean to spend their honeymoon — they had been married quietly in England — and she expected them every hour now. Jean felt quite excited, for their visit Avas quite an event in her quiet life. The best and largest bed- chamber and the prettiest sitting-room were set aside for them, and Jean filled the quaint vases with fresh flowers, and looped up the lace curtains with bright ribbons. When everything was trim as hands could make it, Jean went to her own room, and changed her white dress for one of soft blue-grey spotted with scarlet ; a scarlet close-fitting hat and a red umbrella completed a toilette dashing enough to startle the quiet fisher- folks. V - OKj THE POWER OF LOVE. 2G3 Then slie went into the garden — a largo enclosure shaded by bonnie trees; hero under a splendid grassy silver birch, which we Britishers call " the lady of the woods/' sat a rosy-cheeked bonne with a chubby, golden-haired, blue-eyed baby-boy. Little Pridie was dressed in a pretty white-work frock with blue sash and shoes ; his dimpled arms were held out gleefully to the pretty young mother, whose big brown eyes softened into wondrous tenderness at sight of her little son. Kissing liira tenderly, she gave a few directions to the nurse, then went down the gravel path to the green gate, where her pony-chaise and prim groom waited for her. She patted her ponies, two sleek black-pointed chest- nuts, and jumped in, taking the reins, and starting the ponies into a brisk trot. At the quaint station that stood on a hill she got out and paced the platform impatiently. The train was late, and Jean had got tired of waiting just as it steamed into the station, and John, jolly as a schoolboy out for a holiday, jumped out, and in the fulness of his heart kissed her before turning to assist Hagar out of the train. Hagar with her dusky face all aglow with happi- ness — Hagar in dainty tasteful garments suited to her beauty. Jean recalled the ugly workhouse garb with disgust; how could such a splendid creature have disguised herself so long in such hideous garments ? "HoAV pretty you look, Hagar, dear, and oh, how glad I am to see your dear old face again ! I should hardly have known you, you are such a tremendous swell ! " " That's John's doings ; he has such dreadfully extra- vagant ideas of dress." " I am glad he has, dear, since he makes you look so bonnie." " You see, Mistress Jean, I consider it a woman's duty to make the best use of the gifts nature has bestowed upon her. A plain woman tastefully attired K ^ ^ -^ 20 1 BONNIE JEAN; OR, THE POWER OF LOVE, is a more comely sight to me than a slovenly beauty." Dr. John bustled away to see after his luggage, and Hagar said anxiously : ''You look quite the old Bonnie Jean; are you happy, dear ? " "Not as you can count happiness, Hagar; but I am tranquil, and my boy is a perpetual pleasure to me. Jean led the way to the carriage, and they were off through the sunny high-road to the breezy cliff where the pretty cottage stood ; and at the gate Nurse Felice waited with the baby under a big umbrella. Hagar took him in her arms and admired him to her heart's content. Sitting in the quaint, dark, wainscoted parlour, Dr* John smiled on the two women, who were glorying over young Pridie. "He does your nursing credit, Mrs. Jean. He is as much like his father as a baby can be." Jean's face hardened, and she at once found a pretence to leave the room. When she had gone, Hagar said reproachfully : " How thoughtless of you to mention Paul, John ! " " Was it, dear ? Well, you see much of my sympathy has gone over to the enemy since I saw him and heard his version of the affair. The fact is Jean has been a great fool in this matter, and I mean to tell her so before we leave here." "1 hope you won't, dear; she will never forgive you." "Never's a long day, darling; and I hope to see Paul and Jean as happy as you and I are some day. Give me a kiss, and tell me, would you not be tremendously proud of such a youngster as this — eh, wife?" Hagar flushed up hotly, and hid her face against king baby. Just then a neat maid- servant came to tell them tea was served, and they gave up the baby to its nurse and followed the maid to a pretty drawing-room over- looking a trim lawn, beyond which was the sea shining like an opal lake. NOTICE— This Work will be published every Wednesday. Orders should be given to vour Bookseller early. BONNIE JEAN No. 12. 26Q BONNIE JEAN; Jean liad recovered her composure, and was very bright and charming — so bright and bonnie, indeed, that Hagar doubted if she suffered so much as thej imagined. They little knew how her heart ached over her ruined happiness at sight 'of their happy love. "There are not many sights worth seeing about here/' said Jean, in answer to an enquiry of Dr. John's. "But there is a grand show-place, half castle, half ruin, that belongs to a noble French family. The grounds are lovely, and the ruins picturesque and genuine. There is a beautifnl chapel, and a grand picture-gallery, and my nurse tells me that the master, a certain old-young marquis, is likely to return and fill the habitable part of the place with gay folk from Paris. I am sorry, for it will spoil the place for me." " What is the name of this noble marquis ? " " St. Clare, and the name of the estate, Claremont Castle. We will drive round the grounds after dinnei-, if you like ; it will be a lovely evening. If Hagar is not tired, I shall be glad to go." " Oh, I am not at all tired, Jean ! I should like it above all things. I long to look over those high cliffs." " W^e must manage to get some boating," said Jean. " The coast is rough, but there are a few pleasure-boats, and some enterprising fellow has started a few bathing- machines, where men and women bathe together in the most primitive fashion. I have a hood-machine all to myself. I fancy it does Pridie good to give him a dip every morning*." " Undoubtedly it does, and you too," said John, as ho sauntered towards the sunny window, longing for a smoke. While the ladies were discussing the merits of cream lace over white for baby's hats, he hastily wrote a letter, and directed it to Paul at the Bonville. This he put out of sight when his bride and Jeannio entered. " Why don't you smoke, Dr. John ? " " I will, i£ I may." " Of course you may ; it will be quite a treat to smell a cia'ar a^'ain." 5?- OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 267 Jean sighed. Seeing Hagar lighting John's cigar reminded her how she used to fill Paul's favourite pipe, sitting on his knee, and how fondly he would kiss her as thanks for her pleasant service. Ah, how full of deceit he had been ! What a poor deluded fool he must have thought her! K CHAPTER XLII. " I cannot tell, not I, why she, Awhile so gracious, now should be So grave. I cannot tell you why The violet hangs its head awry." j^^^^AGAR quoted the above verse in reply to a I'i^^^^S I'smark of Dr. Joliu's about Jean, ''^pO'S He bad noticed a great change in her, a ^^^^ hardening dauntless spirit, a certain loss of ~ ^ - ^' ' ■ '--^•J the soft charm of perfect womanhood such as characterised her as a wife during the uneasy time she had spent with Paul. The fact was, Jean was trying to stifle her higher, nobler, sensitive self, and in excitement and novelty to drown memory, and win back health, spirit, and courage, even if the process killed the womanly heart within her. Dr. John looked grave, and he said : " I never saw a woman change so. Trouble hardens some natures, I know, or makes them mad; but Jeau seems a new woman, a reckless dare-devil spirit seems to prevail in all her projects, and she used to be the gentlest girl alive." He pulled at the heel of his sock viciously as he spoke, and Hagar, brushing her long black hair, parted it to look at him, and say prophetically : ''Mark my words, John, Jean has only just begun to live, and her life will be full of stirring excitement from this time forth. Do you notice how strong she has become ? Her one soft spot seems little Pridie ; he will be her safeguard ; but for her child, I should fear Jeau would develop into anything but a good woman. The secluded life she led as a girl and child gives zest to intercourse with the world, and she is showing signs of great brain-po'v^ er, pluck, and spirit. It is a pity she is ^J BONNIE JEAN; OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 269 SO heavily liaiidicappecl ; as a wife living apart from lier husband, she will have to run the gauntlet with heavy- odds against her." "■ Why, you talk in quite Jean's new horsey style, Hagar." " Do I, dear ? Well, thank God I do not feel as she does ; and if I go a step with her to try and understand her, ^tis but to win tw^o steps back to her old sweet simplicity." " I know that, darling, and could trust you to the world's end; but I must own I do detest going to these French races, and meeting second-rate London society. If Joan must get into a set wdth plenty of ' go,' she cer- tainly would do better in England, where, say what one will to the contrary, morals do exist, though at best it is but a feeble existence. You have dropped one of your earrings, dear ; look, ^tis just by your feet. By-the-bye, those heavy gold things have a barbaric richness that suits you immensely." " I wear them because Jean gave them to me, but I confess I like something quieter." Just then there came a sharp tap at the door, and Jean's bright voice said : " Come, good people ; we shall be late for the picnic." " Coming at once, dear," answered Hagar. '' I wish we were not going to this picnic, Hagar ; St. Clare may have taken a fancy to our friend Paul's wife ; she is very fresh and pretty among the spare brown-skinned French women." " If Jean means to go into society, she must learn how to take care of herself. I do not fear for her ; she is morally strong. ^- I am glad to see she takes so much interest in books, flowers, and music." " Yes ; but her riding and driving lessons are needless, and she has taken to swimming like a fish, and dresses too loud for good taste." Hagar smiled, and advised her old man to give his friend a talking to. " She does not take a scolding so docilely as she did," remarked John, setting his tie under his handsome chin. 270 BONNIE JEAN; Then, kissing his wife fondly, he declared himself ready to descend. Jean rose and welcomed her guests with a radiant smile. Her face was bright and sparkling, her laugh light and gay as a chikVs. She sang a little bright melody as she ran out to pick some roses ; and seeing her so John found it hard to believe her a heart-broken deserted wife. " She does not mean to wear the willow,'^ he thought, and he tried to stifle a feeling of dissatisfaction with her. After all, why should she not make the best of her life ? Why should he like her less, bright and bonnie as she now appeared, than he did when she was dull and sorrowful ? Could he not read between the lines, and see that her gaiety was but a mask put on to hide her weariness, and ni.ake her life endurable ? Reckless she might be, but bad, never, while the woman's heart beat in her bosom, and baby lips could call her mother. " I should be mad if I was not merry," she had said to Hagar once; and with a regretful sigh, Hagar answered that she feared she was both. After breakfast, when Jean went to dress for the pic- nic, Hagar followed her. Jean's dress was of rather a daring style — white serge, trimmed with gold braid, a tailor-made garment of ex- treme fashion that fitted her slender shape to perfection. She had a wonderful waistcoat, high collar, and a hansom-cab bonnet with knots of gold braid and white feathers, a hugh white umbi-ella, lined Avitli gold, and gold-coloured gloves. Never had Hagar seen a sweeter haj'mony in gold and white, and she trembled to tliink of the effect of Jean's fi-esh beauty on the impressible fancy of the Marquis of St. Clare, whom Jean had met while visiting some friends who were passing through on their way to Paris. Jean had accepted the marquis's attentions with ex- treme kindness, and he w^as quite chaimed with her frank ways and sweet girlish looks. »- >? OK, THE POWER OF LOVE. 271 How would this friendship end, Hagar wondered, for she wisely thought there could be no such thing as a truly platonic attachment between a man and woman who were not connected by ties of blood or marriage. But Jean took no thought for the future; enough for her that she found the present endurable. What Jean's real sentiments were, no one knew ; enough that she seemed inclined to take life lightly. She wisely thought there was no need to wear her heart on her sleeve for daws to peck at. Jean drove to Castle Claremont in high spirits ; the marquis, a good-looking man of middle age, met hor at the iron gates, and paid her a very florid compli- ment, which Jean laughed at, and Hagar on her account resented. A gay party had assembled. Jean seemed quite at home among them ; the marquis never left her side, but followed her about like a shadow. He was what the golden youths of our day would call fairly "mashed" on Jeannie. For her he picked his finest orchids and ripest grapes, well rewarded by her merry thanks and bright looks of gratitude. Towards evening his attentions became more than ever marked and even fearless — Jean grew anxious to be rid of him. They had supper by moonlight on a big stone terrace, and the marquis never left Jean's side. He tried to tempt her to go with him to see the ruins, but Jean was wise in her generation and de- clined, so her host sat beside her fanning her with her big red fan and telling her all sorts of interesting things about Paris and past generations of St. Clares, In spite of herself Jean became interested and gracious ; it pleased her to see Hagar vras having a good time, with Dr. John in attendance. Listlessly, Jeannie watched the waiters about, one splendidly-built dark fellow seemed familiar to her — so much so that she questioned the marquis about him, and he said the whole supper, rout-seats, waiters, &c., c ame from a Paris cafe, and this fine fellow among -^ 272 BONNIE JEAN ; OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. them^ and teased her about her interest in a waiter. He called him to fill her glass with champagne. To his surprise this accomplished waiter seemed nervousj and sent the champagne over Jean's faultless toilette. He hovered about them too, and when Jean asked the marquis where Dr. and Mrs. Granger were, and the mar- quis replied, " Gone to view the ruins ; come and look for them, I know exactly where to find them " — upset a chair, and said in bad French : " I will find madame's friends if she wish it." The count turned on his heel at this insolence with a severe rebuke on his lips, but Jean laid her hand on his arm, saying : '' Who is this man ? For God's sake tell me ! " But before the marquis could reply the man was gone. He had vaulted like an acrobat over the stone terrace, and the marquis said lightly : " An insolent fellow ; I suppose he has been drinking. Come, madame, we will find your friends ; it is a beauti- ful night, as light as day. Nay, why shrink from me ; what have you to fear ? Are you not my most honoured guest ? When was the honour and hospitality of Clare- mont outraged by its owner. Madame, I adore, but I respect you ; come, or I shall fear you cannot trust me.'' C^4 f^^^C^MJ^O^^ -<- CHAPTER XLIII. T was a delicate position for a woman to be placed in who had set up a character for independence of thought and action. Jean accepted the situation bravely; of course the waiter was drunk, and she could accept the marquis's escort to look for her friends — roue though he was — alone among the ruins. She had not such a bad opinion of roves as some ; she thought, as a rule, they were trustworthy enough with good women, and she was right in most cases ; but '' wine in, wit out," is a true saying, and the marquis was in an amorous mood. Jean was anxious to get rid of him, and to find her friends ; anything was better than to sit still listening to St. Clare's nonsense. The moon made the landscape look like fairy-land ; beyond the ancient garden, with its ghostly statues, loomed the ruins, gaunt and weird; owls hooted out of the walls, the moonlight streamed through the turret- windows and crumbling loopholes. The scene was of great picturesque beauty ; the distant sound of music came softly floating in the summer air ; lights flashed out from the habitable part of the castle. Jean was impressed by the grandeur of the scene, and the marquis, too, seemed under the spell of this most beavitiful night, for he was silent and subdued. They walked together among the sweet scents and £;ounds, until they came to the shadow of the ruins. Here Jean was glad to take the marquis's hand, for she did not know the path, and had enough to do to keep her pretty dress from the brambles. She climbed slowly with him to the crumbling battle- ments, then rested to gain breath and look round at the wonderful view. S«8- s?- 274 BONNIE JEAN ; " Are we safe here ? '^ asked Jean, clinging to the ivy beside her. " Quite safe, dear madame ; we had a dance on the flat part of the roof last summer. 'Tis not wise to trust to the wall yonder ; it seems shifting. I am proud of these ruins ; I think them the most picturesque I have ever seen. Sit here while I explore them further to find your friends." Jean watched the tall figure of the marquis disappear behind a projecting turret, and leant luxuriantly back on her stone seat, glad to be left alone to enjoy the quiet and beauty of the night. She heard him singing some bright little French ill an son. The soft night breeze fanned Jean's hot cheeks. She rested her chin iu her hand, and waited. Gradually the sound of the marquis's voice died away, and a feeling of loneliness and helplessness came to Jean. Presently she heard some one climbing up the uneven steps behind her, and turued to see the dark head of the eccentric waiter who had offered to find her friends for her. He passed her without a word, and went carefully ahead. She saw him slowly descend as the marquis had done ; heard his steps on the stone floor of a chamber below that the marquis assured her was unsafe. She felt inclined to warn the man of danger, but some instinct kept her silent. Why had he dogged their steps? Had he come to succour her in case of danger to life or honour ? What a strange fellow he was, and how familiar his figure and walk were to her; surely she had seen him before. She sat still, idly hugging her knees, lost in thought. Time passed very quickly in this brooding mood. At last she roused herself. Where was the marquis ? AVhat was the time ? It must be very late. She started to her feet with a vague feeling of alarm, took out her watch, and was amazed to find the time midni?- OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 283 her. Wliile lie did this someone entered the room stealthily, and stood between the insensible woman and her enemy. St. Clare turned to her again with tender anxiety, to see standing over her in passionate abandon the waiter who had so offended him on the terrace. The man was bending over her, sprinkling her white face with water ; he seemed lost to all thought but her danger. St. Clare laid his hand angrily upon his shoulder, and threw him round with an oath. To his suprise, the man shook off his hold as though it had been a feather-weight, and said sternly : " Do not try to hinder me, you pitiful coward ! You shall answer to me for this outrage on an innocent woman, and your guest. Stand back, or I shall be tempted to kill you ! This lady goes with me ; her honour is mine. You will answer for this outrage, if you are worthy of your name." The man bent over Jean and Hfted her lightly, as though she had been a child. A heavy blow caused him to stagger, release his hold, and confront his antagonist. They closed ; both were athletes, well-matched and merciless. The table fell over with a crash. Jean recovered with a scream of terror, to see two dark forms struggling in a patch of moonlight. Bitter curses, cruel blows ! A sickly terror seized Jean's dizzy brain. What was the meaning of this ghastly scene ? Suddenly, with an awful thud, one man cast the body of the other from him ; it fell with a groan in a patch of moonlight by an open window. Then with the one word, "Come !" the strange man held out his hand, and led Jean, staggering, half blind with terror, from the room, up the steep uneven stairs, out on to the moonlit terrace, then down again ; guided her tenderly until she stood in the shadow of the ruined wall, with the green tui^f under her feet, and only heaven above her. K ^ ^ 284 BONNIE JEAN ; ■ Without a word, seeing she was too weak to stand, the strange man lifted her in his arms and put her in a pony-chaise, untied the reins, and drove away briskly. Jean, breathless and dazed with terror, gasped out : " Tell mo who you are ? Oh, I cannot thank you enough for saving me from a fate worse than death. Who are you ? " '^A friend who has only done his duty as a man. Keep silent, and rely upon me. There is no time to be lost if you would get home before daylight." Jean looked at the dark set face beside her en- quiringly. Something seemed familiar to her in the pose of the head and outline of the throat, yet the voice was strange to her. The man spoke French like a German, and was swarthy as a Spaniard. Who could he be ? And why did he risk his life to save her honour ? His tone was so stern, she dare not disobey him, so kept silent while they tore over the uneven road, jolting from side to side till she expected to be overturned. Her heart was full of gratitude to her deliverer. No words could express how deeply she felt her position — how sincerely she regretted the indiscretion that had led her into such peril. When they eame in sight of her bijou house, the man stopped the carriage and got out. As she faced him, she saw his face was cut and bleeding, and she felt the hand that held hers tremble. " Will you not tell me your name ? " '•'Not now; it is better for us to part unknown to each other. Believe me, I have only done my duty. I am well rewarded by your safety. Some day you will know, but now nothing remains for us but to say fare- well." " Good-bye, then, my brave defender. May God reward your goodness to me ! I shall never forget you, or forgive myself for the trouble I have given you. Oh, you should not do that; it was not worthy of you." This last sentence had been wrung from Jean by the strange conduct of the man, who had pressed her fiercely to his breast and kissed her face, now crimson s?- ORj THE rOWEK OF LOVE. 285 with shame, witli passionate fondness. A second lat^r she stood alone at her own gate, trembhng so that she had not power to open it. Just then Dr. John came striding towards her, saying : ''Where have you been, Jean? Hagar and i have been so upset about you. I was just about to return to Clareniont." "Don't ask me anything to-night, let me rest; you shall know all to-morrow." To John's surprise Jean burst into a passionate tit of weeping, and trying to soothe her, he hall: led, halt carried her into tho house, to be comforted by idagar s care and sympathy. ■VliJ UT" CHAPTER XLY. HE next day found Jean too prostrate to get up, and all explanation was deferred. Hagar would spend the day with her, cheering her with pleasant talk and affec- tionate attention. In the cool of the eveniug, Jean crept down into the little sitting-room, and roused herself to take some interest in her surroundings. Dr. John lectured her pretty severely about taxing her strength too much, wai'ued her not to excite herself, and then, firmly but gently, asked her to explain her strange behaviour of the previous night. But Jean had decided to keep her shameful secret, so put him off by saying the men had mistaken the way and been upset by tramps. The falsehood limped off her tongue lamely enough, and she was chagrined to see he did not believe her ; but he was too well-bred to express his doubts, beyond remarking stiffly that he was sorry he had troubled her to talk, since it seemed to have upset her. Jean said no more, but slipped her soft hand in his, and said in a broken voice : " Be patient and trust me, dear old friend." Hagar, to avoid further discussion, rose, went to the piano, and began to play softly some dreamy melody that suited well with the hour. Jean lay back upon her pillows and cried quietly, while John slij^ped outside to smoke his pipe. John was uneasy on Jean's account ; he had noticed St. Clare's admiration and somewhat compromising attentions; he meant to persuade her to return to England and live among her own people. He by no means despaired of seeing Jean reconciled to her husband; that was, if Jean were not allowed to s?- BONNIE JEAN; OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 287 lose lier Hking for dear domestic duties and a lawful love, and just now Jeannie's thoughts were all of home and lost happiness. In imagination she saw Deepdane, and the pictured past rose up reproachfully. Uad she done well ? Ah, sad heart, who should say ? Hagar, leaving her music, took up a book, and kneel- ing to catch the waning light, read aloud in a clear sweet voice some verses from a poem of Dr. W. C Smith's. Attracted by the music of Hagar's voice, Dr. John paused by the window to listen, and the gloaming deepened into purple shadows. The moon rose like a fair v»-hite spirit, touching with refining grace every commonplace object about them ; and Hagar's voice sank into silence, and she sat with clasped hands, and eyes looking heavenward, till her husband, alarmed lest this rapt look should lead to sadness, said, softly touching her hands : " Come and pick me a rose, dear. Why am I denied a button-hole to-day ? " And Hagar, with an absent smile, slipped out into the moonlight, and moved on by John's side like some gracious spirit lent by the moonlight. She paused by a bush of pale blush roses, picked one, and pinned it in John's coat. He caught the hands and kissed them, drawing her close to whisper that she was his dearest, his heart's delight. And seeing them so happy in their love, Jean turned her face from the pleasant scene, and felt doubly desolate. Some new pain was stirring in her heart to-night — a yearning to be sheltered by an assured love as other wives were. Paul, too, came into her heart and mind, as if an instinct of the heart drew them closer together. Then, scaring her heart's lord from his resting-place in her heart, came the memory of Satanella. Only that morning she had read an account of Paul's new play. It had proved a great success, and crowned the famous actor with fresh honours. -^ 288 BONNIE JEANj OR, THE I'OWEE OF LOVE. A review of the play showed a powerful plot, bright with wit and poetic perceptions. There was also an account of Lady Dandergard, the Peerless Peeress of the stage. She was commended for her genius, sympathetic acting, and marvellous grace and beauty. Paul came in, too, for his share of praise, and was envied for the privilege of clasping such a goddess as Satanella in his arms. Jealousy stifled the tender impulses of Jean's nature. She pictured them — her husband and her rival — as sufficing for each other; two beings, but with one spirit; and she, forsaken, forgotten, was left to wear her heart out with longing for a happiness that could never be hers. Why, she asked herself, was her heart so faithful to its truant lord ? Why could she not forget her wrongs in fresh hopes and new pleasures ? Must she always suffer in silence, and live a lonely life devoid of love or sympathy ? ]s[o — a thousand times no ! She would mix with the world, find new friends ; make the best of her spoilt life. She would not meekly sit down to suffer, Avhile her life was young, and the world seemed fair. Sorrow disappointment, and dull despair were not for youth or courage such as hers. She would go back to England and show Paul she could live v>'ithout him. Satanella should not triumph in her misery. Just then the postman came up the avenue and gave Eliza a letter for her mistress. Jean opened it with trembling fingers. It was from the Marquis of St. Clare, a humble contrite letter, entreating her forgiveness, and begging for an inter- view. It ended with a sneer to her deliverer — the sup- posed waiter — who, it seemed, had insisted upon meeting the marquis as a man of honour. The marquis pooh-poohed the idea of fighting an inferior, said he should have had the fellow arrested had it not been that he feared to compromise Jean. The letter disgusted Jean. " Oh, of what mean materials are men made," she said bitterly, crushing the letter in her hand. NOTICE.-This Work will be published every Wednesday. Orders should be given to youi Bookseller early. BOKNIB JEA^. > ^ « o w CD in ^ O No. 13. 290 BONNIE JEAN ; Jeau wondered St. Clare dared seek to see her again. She was glad he had refused to fight, for she did not wish her deliverer to run any further risk on her account, and, woman like, had a horror of duelling. "1 wish French laws were as severe on such mur- derous practices as they are in England," she said to herself as she rose to go to the nursery to wish her boy good-night. Felice was bathing the bonnie little chap, and he was laughing with delight as he splashed the water right and left, frolicking like a little Trojan. Jean smiled at the pretty rogue with motherly pride, and stayed in the nursery till the dimpled limbs Avere composed in sleep, then granted permission for Felice to go out for an hour to see a friend, and sat beside her sleeping child till it was almost supper-time — then sud- denly recalled to her duties as hostess, she sought Dr. John and Hagar. They were in the garden, walking about arm-in-arm as happy as a pair of lovers. Jean teased them a little about spooning, then with a sigh opened the gate that led into the high-road, and looked up and down the road aimlessly. To her surprise, she saw Felice pacing up and down talking to a man. Something familiar in his walk made Jean scrutinise him sharply; she could not be mistaken — it was the mysterious waiter. He seemed impressing something upon Felice ; she saw her nod and shrug her shapely shoulders — saw also that money passed from his hand to hers, and that their farewell was distant, as though they were almost strangers. Puzzled, and not a little ashamed of having played the spy, Jean turned away from the gate, and joined Hagar and John again. They were making arrangements to spend part of the next day on the sea, and Jean decided to join them. Felice entered the gate, and passed them sedately, unaware that her misti'ess gazed after her with newly- aroused mistrust. s?- OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 291 Jean hated mystery of any kind, slie was naturally as open and honest as the day, and it vexed her greatly to think her servant knew the man in whom she herself felt so much interest. "Surely," she thought, "he could not be mean enough to tell her of my midnight adventure at Claremont ? " Yet Jean felt uneasy — she knew not why — and was even alarmed Avlien in the early morning, happening to look out of her window, she saw Felice, with little Pridie fresh as a dew-bathed pink, walking under the shade of the tall hedgerow with the mysterious waiter, who held out his arms to take the child, and caressed it with passionate fondness. " He can't be a bad fellow, or he would not be so fond of babies," thought Jean, but she determined to speak to Felice that very day. Suppose someone were to steal the child, her one treasure. The thought was horrible. After her bath, she dried her hair hastily, and hurrying into her clothes summoned Felice. "Felice, I saw you from my window talking to a stranger, to whom you entrusted little Pridie. You should i-emember how I have cautioned you against strangers ; I cannot trust my only child to your chance acquaintances." "Ah, del! what does madame suspect? Le hon gargon has been betrothed to me for years. He loves little children, and admires madame's little son. I will be more discreet in future. Madame shall not have cause to complain of seeing me with my lover. Can I get madame's coffee, or assist her in any way ? " " No, not now, Felice. Give Master Pridie his bread- and-milk, and bring him to me ; and tell cook to pack a hamper. I am going on the sea for the day. Let Petre take the things to the shore and engage the Fleur de Lys." Felice bowed with quaint foreign grace, and smiled as she closed the door behind her, shaking together two gold coins in her brown palms. CHAPTER XLVI. ELICE, I want you to take a letter from me to a friend of yours — the gentleman I saw talking- to you at tke gate. By-tbe- bye, can you tell nie who he is, and his name ? '^ Felice, who was tying a rose-coloured sash round little Pridie, flushed hotly, and looked a little ashamed, as she said : " I believe the man's name is Werter ; he is a waiter, and speaks well — like a gentleman. I met him at ^ fete. He is no more to me than an acquaintance. Of course, I will do as madame desires ? " '^ When will you see him again ? " The flush deepened on Felice's olive cheek, and she said quietly : "Perhaps to-night — perhaps never again." " Manage to make it to-night, Felice," said Joan, giving her a letter, and a present of money. Jean had laid awake all night, worrying over St. Clare's letter. She was disgusted with his impudence, and determined to send him a reply that would set his conceit down, so she had written : " Sir, — I am deeply liurt and amazed to see a letter from you ; lienceforth we cannot even be common acquaintances. If you molest me further, I shall know to whom to appeal for pro- tection. The waiter you so greatly condemn showed himself superior to you in all things ; it is he, not you, who should refuse to fight one so far beneath him. I am glad that nothing so serious as a duel will take place on my accoiint. There are those in England who would drush the conceit out of your cowardly head with their British fists, but you have proved yourself even beneath such brute revenge. — Hoping never to see or hear from you again, J. M. P." To the waiter she wrote : " Sir, — I am deeply grateful to you for saving me from a fate far worse than death. I am a lonely defenceless woman, BONNIE JEAN ; OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 293 woiglicd down by a groat sorrow, a great wrong. Your help caufe to me like a voice from Heaven, saying, ' Courage, there is good in life yet.' I honour your courage, your goodness, and shall ask you to add to my happiness by ignoring that vile man. He is beneath you. For my sake leave him to Higher Hands, and remember that if ymi are in trouble of any kind, you can rely upon me as a sister. Send a letter to me at any time and 1 will come from the furthermost end of the earth to help you.— God bless yon for yoin- goodness to me is the wish of your sincere friend, ^ Jean." Here followed tlie address of Jean's lawyer, and a request that lie would apply to Mm if he needed money, for Jean believed him to be a poor man; and though she did not wish to put a price upon the service he had done her, longed to lessen, if possible, her obli- gation to this stranger. This letter she gave to Felice, and then went m search of Hagar, whom she found attired in a cool grey linen dress, waiting, with her hat in her hand, ready to go to the shore. Dr. John in white flannels, with a wide sailor-hat on his white head, looked very jolly. " By-the-bye, Jean, I have just received a note saying Lady Lyston's yacht is at anchor about two miles out; she heard we were here, and very kindly invites us out to see her. 1 think Lady Dandergard has disgusted her by going back to the stage ; she speaks very slight- ingly of her." "I liked Lady Lyston very much," said Jean, as she drew on her long cream silk gloves. Jean was looking charming in a dress of soft cream muslin tucked to the waist, with a wide satin sash of the same soft shade ; a lace hat, with a big bunch of real moss-roses resting against her hair. She was paler than usual, and looked anxious ; the fact was, she was beginning to realise that a woman cannot cast the prejudices of society aside, and live an independent existence, and she had determined to return to England, where she had friends. The sight of Hagar and John had recalled Deepdane, and she felt home- sick. 1 1 ii 1 f The sea was calm and smooth as a lake, the sky ot that indescribable blue seen only in southern skies. 294 'BONNIE Jean ; The wTiite-capped fislier-girls turned to stare at tte pretty brown-liaired girl in tlie exquisite costume^ and the fishermen looked up and smiled, for, by the Holy Virgin, hers was a face that could charm the Pope from his papal throne, or set the hearts of a mighty army beating with one pulse. Truly Jean was blossoming into a rarely sweet and winsome woman. When they got into the pretty little boat, under a fresh white awning, Dr. John opened his morning paper, andHagar looked out her lace-work, while the boatman, a big black-browed fellow, with gold earrings and silver bands upon his fingers, rowed away steadily. Only Jeannie was idle; she sat in deep brooding thought, while Tlie boat leapt out in the open sea, With a ripple of laughter at her prow, And a rush of bubbles under her lea. Jeannie was thinking of all that had passed since she saw Lady Lyston last, and Avas hoping she would not talk to her of Paul or Satanella. Presently they left the shore with its golden sands and brown-sailed fisher-boats behind, and made for the open sea. A slight breeze played upon the waters, and frolic- some wavelets leapt and danced about them like fairy children. "I can see the yacht, it is to the left ; do you see it, Jean ? " said Dr. John, laying down his paper, and adjusting his glasses. Jean looked as he directed, and a flood of recollections swept across her mind. She remembered the night she had danced on its deck, with Paul's eyes following, full of love and yearning, and she felt it had been well for her if she had died befoi-e she had lived to bear such sorrow as now tore at her heart. It was not long before they came alongside and hailed their friends. A merry party were gathered together to meet them, and foi-emost among them jolly Vi Brassy, who greeted Jean with tears of pleasure. %' T ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 295 Lady Lyston was all kindness and courtesy, and her brother Fred as restive and merry as ever. He was delighted to see Jean, and told her so in his most impressive manner. When Jean could get a quiet time with Violet, she asked anxiously : " How do you and Bertie Drake get on, Vi ? I thought you would have made a match of it by this time." "1 thought so, too, dear, but I was mistaken. Bertie rarely comes to see me now; he spends most of his time worshipping at the shrine of that goddess of glamourie, Satanella ; he changed to me directly she began to notice him. I am sorry for Bertie; he was meant for a better fate than loving a bad woman. Somehow I could not bear home after he altered so, and Lady Lyston, wanting a companion, took me. She is so kind, and I am gettiuo- quite happy now, so you need not look so pitiful, dear little woman ; I don't really deserve sympathy. I was misled by my own vanity ; Bertie was not to blame.'^ " Not to blame, indeed, when he was like your shadow following you from place to place, and keeping other suitors from your side ! I think he was bitterly to blame. I am disappointed in Bertie ; but better to find out his fickleness in time, dear, for a faithless husband is a heart- breaking business, as I know to my bitter cost.^^ A look of pathetic anguish crossed Jeannie's features as she spoke; the remembrance of her own sorrow was so keen and recent. Violet was glad Jean had made reference to Paul, for she had something to say for him, and flushing- up and fidgeting with Jean^s bracelets she said softly : " Jean, forgive me if I offend, but I must tell you I believe you wrong Paul. Whatever Satanella was to him before he married you — and I believe she was bad enough to be anything — I am fully persuaded that she was only a friend and the Avife of a friend to him after he met you. Paul is a nobler fellow than you take him for ; you were more than foolish to give him up to that bad woman — why, you almost threw him into her arms, and, man like, having permission, he ceased to wish to go there. ^' 206 BONNIE JEAN; " You speak of Paul as if you had seen liim lately, Violet/^ " So I have — at least, just before I started for this sea-trip. I went with the rest of the world to see his play. Oh, Jean, it was wonderful ! I felt proud of calling such a man as the author of that grand work, friend, for grand work it is, full of noble thoughts portraying with a master hand human nature as it is, both bad and good. To think that he wrote that to be worthy of you, and show you there was something in him worth loving, and you of all people should never see or appreciate his work ! The night I was there Satanella acted with Paul ; they made a magnificent pair. She is as clever as she is beautiful, and he — well, it is a good job he is married, or half the girls in London would be running mad after him ; as it is, they say many ladies of title — ah, and even those of royal bleed — are wild about him. Folks say ho and Satanella are not such good friends as they were — at any rate, he has got a famous American actor to take his place, and only acts occasionally now. -"Tis reported he is busily engaged writing a new play, and he has already published a novel called, ' Since Yesterday,' such a delightful book ; I had many an enjoyable cry over it." Jean listened intently to all she heard, her heart aching horribly ; to have lost such a man was indeed a matter of regret, but had she ever really possessed him? She believed not, for the memory of Satanella's evil words still stung her to the heart. She was glad to hear public opinion did not credit Satanella with the power of keeping Paul's love. All Jean's fancied indifference vanished at the mention of Paul's name. Ah, how she loved him — what she would have given to have been able to begin afresh a new life by his side ! After this Lady Lyston came to talk to Jean of little Pridie, and the two mothers found making notes about little ones intensely interesting. There was a piano and harp on board, and they had some very charming music while they ate fruit and drank iced wine, and chatted a-bout the deck in merry groups. OK,, THE rOWER OV LOVE. 297 In the saloon below a gentleman lounged icily, smoking and listening to the sound of voices above. Once he started, flushed, and with a profound sigh dropped his face in his hands ; it was when Jcannie paused at the top of the saloon ladder, and said in her bright clear voice : " Hush, Master Fred ! you forget I am an old married woman, and proof against all such flattering tongues as yours/' '^ Whose fault is it if we poor fellows forget yon aro what you call an old married v/oman — eh ? '' " I am sure I don't know — not mine, I hope." The man looked up to see Jean's slender figure out- lined against the deep blue of the sky ; the sun was on her ruddy locks, turning them to gold, her cheeks were flushed. The light breeze caught her muslin skirts, showing a trim pair of ankles and a pair of such fetching little feet as one rarely sees out of a French sketch- book. Again the man groaned in bitterness of spirit as the wind-tossed garment and lovely looks of Bonnie Jean passed beyond his vision. Oh, Love, there is no joy like that thou bring'st, Nor any grief like that thou leav'st behind, Being gone. God pity me, I was so happy ; And while my heart was singing in the light Of its great bliss, the arrow pierced it through, And I fell prone to this. ';Sy^d- ^- ^- CHAPTER XLYII. [he deck of Lady Lyston's pretty yacht was cleared at one end; four or five couples Avere dancing to the Maydew Waltz ; the water lay calm beneath and sunny all about the ship. The cool of the day was approaching, and Lady Lyston's guests had newly awakened to a sense of enjoy- ment. Jean was dancing with Fred, and Dr. John with Violet ; Hagar sat in confidential converse with her hostess. Beside them, busily icing wine and polishing glasses, stood a man, with his back towards them. His dai-k head was bent in a listening attitude ; every now and again Lady Lyston glanced his way, and she seemed to direct her voice towards him. Hagar's back was to him, and unconscious of her unwished- for auditor, she talked confidently of Jean and Jean^s life, feelings, and wishes, even expressed her fears of Jean's carelessness and love of novelty leading her into mischief ; also told Lady Lyston that Dr. John in- tended to pursuade Jean to return to England with them the following week, and if she would not return to Deep- dane, see her settled in town, for a time at least. " She certainly is too young, pretty, and inexperienced to go about the world Avithout a protector ; it would be a grievous thing to see her compromised by what she meant to be only blameless liberty of a nature that knows no evil," said Lady Lyston, watching Jean coquetting with her brother Fred. The waiter left the deck, and, as he disappeared down the ladder, cast a lingering look upon Jean, who was. smiling at some merry joke of Fred's. Fred, Avho with daring admiration in his fine eyes, was fanning her with a big black fan. BONNIE JEAN ; OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 299 And wliile they danced above on the deck, and their merry voices made mnsic on the breeze, the dark man lay, face downwards, in his berth in an ag-ony of self- reproach. Presently, tired of this exertion, Lady Lyston's guests sat doAvn to rest, while Fred sang a seasong, and gradually. The wind fell low as the sun Avent down, And every cloud bad a golden crown, A jewelled belt, and a crimson gown. And every corrie, and rock, and bill. Was veiled in pink and purple, till Tbe glory was quenched in the gloaming still. And the moon leapt up in the heavens so high that one marvelled how its light could fill a world so far below with its radiance. Then there was a dainty supper set out on tlie white deck, and much mirth and jollity among the j^leasuro- seekers, till Dr. John decided it was time to return ; then it came out that many of the guests were from land, and much pleasant bustle was the consequence of their seek- ing their boats. A timid married lady, who just then had some excuse for her caprices, took it into her pretty head that she dared not return, as she had come, in a cockle-shell gig, with Fred for her boatman ; so Jeannie, at Fredas urgent request, gave up her seat to her, and agreed to return with Fred. "Be very careful of her, my boy," shouted Dr. John as he helped Hagar down the ladder. Jean was the last to start, because Fred had so much to do in seeing the others off. She saw a little boat dancing up and down on the wave, and in it a dark man in a wide straw hat. " Give me your hand, and turn your back to the sea ; keep a tight hold on the rope, and let me guide your feet— so." Thus spoke Fred, as he assisted Jean over the side. Lady Lyston Avas watching them Avith a troubed look on her kind face. Jean got safely into the boat, and looked with a smile, as Lady Lyston called out : s?- 300 BONNIE JEAN; " Fred, come back ; there are some letters I want posted ; you can give them to Jean. I daresay she will get them stamped for me. Will you, dear ? " "With pleasure, Lady Lyston. Make haste. Master Fred ; the boats are almost out of sight.^^ While Jean watched the boats, she did not notice that the little gig she was in was swiftly moving, till she observed the distance that lay between it and the yacht, then she said sharply : *' What do you mean by rowing ? return at once, and wait for my friend." "I have my instructions, lady," said the man in a queer muflfled voice. " I am to take you to land alone." Jean started up, and called to Fred, whom she saw waving a handkerchief to her in a comfortable, at-easo sort of way, that set her temper blazing. " How dare you put such an indignity upon me ? Return to the yacht. I cannot — will not trust myself with you ! " The man made no reply, but bent to the oars sturdily, lifting the little boat over the freshening sea at such a pace that they were soon beyond hail from the yacht. Jean amazed, indignant, and distrustful, took the rudder-lines, and steered for the shore. The moon was behind a cloud, when she saw indis- tinctly the man ship his oars, and bend towards her. In a second he was kneeling at her feet, his great arms encircling her in a passionate impulsive embrace, and a voice, hoarse with emotion, said : " Jeannie, darling ! don't you know me ? 'Tis I — Paul — your husband. Speak to me. Do not struggle ; we are in deep water, and death together would be prefer- able to me than life without your love." Jean felt faint and sick with surprise, her heart beat stt '.mily. How dared he break through the silence and separation she had meant to last till death ? " Take your arms away ! I hate, I despise you ! How dare you trap me like this ? You forget I am a despe- rate woman, made so by the wrongand treachery I suffered as your wife. We can never be anything but strangers, I would rather die than return to the life you made -^ s?- OR^ THE POWER OF LOVE. 301 hateful to me. Have you no sense of sliame, no loyalty of love even to your mistress ? You chose between us, therefore be true to your choice; do not deceive Satanella — she at least loves you.^^ " Satanella is nothing to me — you know that, Jean ; you, and you only, have my love ! Oh, Jeannie, have pity ! for God's sake do not leave me desolate ! I cannot live without you. Tell me what fault you have ag-ainst me. I was a true and loving- husband to you. Did I ever lose patience or disappoint your trust in me ? Oh, my darling-, my beautiful treasure ! be kind to me, I entreat; lay your dear lips on mine, mv own Bonnie Jean," '^ You were false, cruel, and are so still ! Take your Judas-kisses to Satanella, I'll have none of them ! I would rather die than be disgraced by yielding to your traitor wiles. See how the boat rocks — a moment more and "we shall be in the water ! " " What matter if we are together, Jean ? Tell me why you left me." " No need to tell you ; does not your own heart accuse you of the cruellest, worst of crimes ? " *' It accuses me of nothing worse nor weaker than loving you to distraction. I swear I never wronged you ! I Icve you, I respect you too truly. Let our little child plead for me; you break my heart, Jean." "Your heart ! Ah, you are a clever actor, Paul ! Plead in the dear name of our little child even, and you plead to deaf ears, for did you not try to deprive him of his mother's love, his mother's care ? Release me, I say, or 1 shall strike you ! Oh, I could kill you; you madden me— kill my Avomanhood. You coward to entrap me like this ! I will never forgive it ; I swear I will never yield to your pretended love ; your plot is played out. Go back to your mistress, the serpent-woman who has the soul of a murderess." "My darling, you are mad to struggle so. We are alone on the open sea. I love you dearer than life; I cannot live without you. I will not leave go. Why struggle ? Why hurt your dear hands, Jeannie ? They cannot harm me," n 302 BONNIE jean; or, the power of love. Jean, freeing- her little hands, struck him a cruel blow in tlie face. He flushed, and set his teeth hard, but held her still, in silence, " This shall be my revenge," he said, kissing with eager lips the lovely indignant face. Excited to insaoity, Jean threw herself desperately on one side, and fell with him into the water, A wild sense of fear — for life is dear to the young — • possessed her, as she realised her danger ; and then came the touch of PauFs hands, the sound of his voice, and she remembered no more. It was for Paul to battle with the mighty waste of water; ^twas for him to rescue this perishing soul from the unpardonable sin of self-slaughter ; and while he dived down into the grey depths of the sea, his mind was busy with her past. This, he believed, Avas the second time she had tried to end her life — driven to seek death as a refuge from his love. p^'^"^^^ ^- CHAPTER XLVIII. iBKI^ \^m ^^^^^. EANNIE, you are safe. Look up ; speak to me, I entreat ! Only one word, to say you .forgive me." Jeannie opened her eyes. She was in a fisherman^s cot, before a blazing wood fire, rolled in a blanket. She had been very near to death, but Paul had saved her, and now she was miles away from home with him, on a desolate seashore, in a hut where the people were all strangers to her, entirely in Paul's power. The colour flushed her fair face like rising sunlight. His kisses were showered warm and kind upon her. A sense of weakness, lassitude, and weariness weighed her down. She closed her eyes, and felt all the rapture of his love enfold her like a dream of paradise. She would not yet awake to the misery of living; slie would enjoy first the bitter-sweet pain of hearing him declare his love— his love, which irhe believed wholly given to Satanella. If he had longed for her death, why had he saved her ? If he wished to be free to love Satanella, why did he forge fresh fetters now ? Oh, the exquisite joy, the death-dealing weight of water feel the warmth of the woi*ld Paul, thinking her still unconscious, but seeing signs of returning life, busied himself in restoring her, doing all with such infinite love, such tender compassion, that, in spite of herself, Jean's heart softened as it had never done for him since that horrible New Year's Day. A strange numbed pain in her head puzzled her ; then she remembered striking a rock as she fell like a log from the boat. relief — to s from that awful '6 the light, and i-'-'WA^-^--' 304 BONNIE JEAN; Paul's voice grew indistinct, her brain swam^ and with a feeble cry she fell back, lost to all sense and sound. When she awoke, the morning sun Avas shining in at a tiny diamond-paued window, and she lay on a little white bed. By her side Avere Dr. John and Hagar. They motioned for her not to speak, gave her medicine, attended to her head, putting cold bandages upon it, and doing all with the tenderness shown to the newly- born and helpless among us. Her languid eyes wandered round the room in search of Paul. He was not there, and a dull sense of disappointment made her close her eyes and try not to think. Why was she alive ? why had she not entered into her rest ? She was so tired — so heart-tired of life and all its de- lusions and mockeiy. She felt Hagar's soft cool hand on hers with no sense of gratitude ; her heart seemed asleep, she did not want to wake to the world and its wickedness again; she hated the sight of the sun and the cheery sound of the fisher-folk. Why Avas she not spared the pain of waking thus, ungrateful and despondent ? She fell into slumber and dreamed of her little child; she saw him all alone on a barren shore, crying to her to come to him. His little hands were held, out to her beseechingly, and yet she could not go to him; she Avas bound hand and foot under a weight of earth ; she had a frantic desire to go to him, to take him to her heart, to soothe his childish grief upon her bosom — but no; she felt the food that should have nourished him heavy in her bosom, paining her Avith a dull aching. She awoke in the dusk Avitli an exceeding bitter cry, to find her baby on her breast, and her heart overfloAved with gratitude to Heaven for sparing her to her little child. But Avhere Avas Paul that he was not near to take ad- vantage of this softened mood ? on, THE POWER OF LOVE. 305 lie was wandering disconsolate on the desolate sea- shore. Dr. John was with hini^ urging him for a time at least to give up all hope of a reconciliation with Jean. ^•' Time must soften her heart and change her mind. If we could only find out what she considers'' your un- pardonable sin against her, we might hope to explain it away. For my part, I believe it is something more than your su^jposed intrigue with Satanella." " But what in Heaven's name can it be, Granger ? I swear to you as man to man, with God to witness above us, that I have never wronged my wife by word or deed. I love her more than I can say. Life without her is not' worth living. Never was a man more miserably placed. Is it possible she loves someone else ? " " No ; I believe Jean loves you, and you only ; hers is the lover's creed : " Ah, one, and one only, is tlie lover's creed !'' " But am I the one ? that is the question." " Of course you are. Who else could she care for ? " " Bertie Drake, perhaps." " Utter nonsense ! If she had preferred him, there was no need to marry you, for he asked long before she saw your face. No, it is a mystery which she only can clear up, and she will not do so until it pleases her ; women are queer beings, Paul." " Yes ; there's no understanding them. Why, Jean shrank from me as if I had committed murder." '^ Aw^oman considers some crimes deeper than murder." " Well, I should be glad to know the particular crime of which my wife accuses me." "Patience, my dear boy, all will come right in time ; everything must work well in the end." '^ It is easy for you to preach patience, Granger, you don't know how miserable I am. If I could understand what she fancies I have done it would be better to bear, but I can't get anything out of her but reproaches. My letters are unread ; if I try to speak to her she flies into an insane rage, and is as un- reasonable as it is possible for a woman to be. Then these horrible attempts on her life frighten me; this is the second, the third may be fatal.-*^ -k 306 BONNIE JEAN ; OE, THE POWER OP LOVE. " The second ? " said Dr. Jolin incredulously ; '^ impossible ! Wliy was I not told of it ? When did it occur ? What was the reason ? " " Hysteria^ yoii^^g Drake called it. I was in London at the time. She went near to dying ; if Drake had not been on the spot help would have come too late. I have never seen her to speak to her since ; it seems impossible to fathom the mystery. '^ Dr. John looked puzzled ; his practical mind took in another view of the case. Where did she get the poison ? What was the nature of it ? were the first questions he put to Paul. Paul could not answer them, but determined to question young Drake directly he got back to London. " I'll tell you what it is, Paul, someone must act for you ; if Jean won't speak to you, she may to me. Directly she is well I will question her closely. I cannot understand why she should act so strangely ; she must not have all her own way and ruin both her life and yours. I expect Satanella is at the bottom of the mystery ; I always mistrusted that woman." "I don't see how Lady Dandergard could prevent ray wife from making a fool of herself. Satanella is not so bad as she seems ; hers are mostly surface faults. But I really should be glad, and grateful if you would try to befriend me iii this matter ; my position is a wretched one. I begin to lose all interest in life." . " I sympathise with you. Only leave your wife to me ; Hagar and I will work well for you." '^ You are a real friend, Granger ; I shall never forget your kindness. You will let me know how Jean gets on, won't you ? and if you can persuade her to see me, I should be glad. I cannot help thinking that if I once get her to give me a fair hearing I could make her change her opinion of me." "I suppose you think with Shakespeare, " A man wlio liath a tongue, I say is no man I£ with his tongue he cannot win a woman. But Jean is stubborn ; it is her greatest fault ; but there, who is without fault ? Cheer up, old man, I see the silver lining to the cloud — only wait and hope." ^ M. CHAPTER XLIX. AM goino" to England directly I can travel. I have written to my agent to see about letting the house here, also about renting a house in London. I think I should like to stay near Prim- rose Hill, it is open and healthy, and it is nice to be near a park. I like little Pridie to spend part of every day under the green boughs.^' Jean sat under the shade of a silver birch, little Pridie playing at her feet. She had been suffering from injury to the head, and a slight attack of low fever ; though she was very despondent she was still firm in her refusal to see Paul, and Dr. John had not gleaned any intelligence so far as to her reason for leaving Paul. Paul, utterly hopeless and disheartened, had left Lady Lyston's pleasant party, and returned to London to drown care in hard work. He began to despair of ever softening his wife's heart, he had left his cause in Dr. John's hands. " Shall you take Felice with you, Jean ? " asked Hagar, as she matched some silks in the sunlight. "Yes, she is good to Pridie, and not usually false ; though she did deceive me about Paul, that was only a blind. She really had been under his management some time. ^, It seems she was a ballet-girl who met with an injury to the hip, and Paul got her into a gentleman's family as under-nurse, and got her a good reference. I suppose it was natural for Paul to like to hear of us, but it was an underbaud trick. It is not nice to think one has a spy in the house. She is anxious to return to England, so she shall go there in my employ ; but if I find she continues to keep up her friendliness with Paul, she shall fro." 308 BONNIE JEAN ; A fortnight later Jean was settled in a pretty villa near Regent's Park, Hagar and Dr. Jolin still being lier guests. It was a pretty house, near Primrose Hill, overlooking the pai'k. It had a balcony full of bright flowers, and some good stabling for Jean's horses. Jean found much to do in the great city, visiting the sick poor, and taking presents to the children's hospitals. She loved all little children for Pridie's sake, and found much comfort in doing good. Dr. John said hers was a beautiful life, and he honoured her for living beyond her disappointments and defeats. 'Twas true she still mixed with a fast set, and made herself conspicuous by her caprices. Her At Homes were well attended; her pretty face was to be seen at most of the gTand assemblies. She lived a life of feverish unrest and excitement, and when she said good-bye to Hagar, who was anxious to go to her own pretty home, her face was sad, and her eyes dim with tears ; what she would have given for a quiet peaceful home, a husband's honest love and faith, none knew. Her home seemed very empty without her friends ; she fell into a despondency again, and her doctor advised horse-exercise, constant change, and pleasant society, all of which she had. But hers was a sickness of the brain, a moi'bid jealousy and a great self-pity. One bright sunny morning when Jean was riding in the Row, with a spruce groom behind her, she saw Paul on horseback, riding beside Satanella, who was looking radiantly lovely in a myrtle-green habit, and a big plumed hat. Paul raised his hat, and Satanella nodded in- solently. Jean felt the hot blood fly to her face, then surge back to her heart ; her head swam ; she had a difficulty in keeping her seat. Her horse, a magnificent creature, pranced on proudly. The trees and the brown earth seemed mingled strangely ^ — OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 309 to Jean ; slie set Lei* teelli firmly, put spurs to lier beautiful brute, and dasbed on. Many a man turned to watcli ber admiringly. Sbo was a goodl}' sigbt, more cbarming in ber natural loveli- ness tban Satanella, witb all tbe aid of art. A young duke, wliose bouours were fresb upon bim, said to a gentleman by bis side : " By jove ! wbat a beautiful girl ! Wlio is sbe ? I'd give sometbing to know ber." " Tbat is easy enougb, your grace ; sbe is on view At Home every Wednesday. I'll take you to ber place in Eegent's Park. Sbe is a woman witb a story. Sbe is living apart from ber busband, tbat handsome actor, Paul Martinet, whom folks say is in love witb Lady Dandergard, tbe widow of tbat good fellow, Sir Duke, W'bo kept sucb a splendid stud. You remember bis borse, Scatterbrain, won tbe St. Leger in 18 — ." '^ Ab, poor old boy ! died suddenly, I believe ? I remember well. I'll certainly look bis widow up. Fine woman. But 'tis ratber infra dig. for a titled lady to take to tbe stage." " Well, wbat will not a woman do for tbe man sbe loves ? I wonder Martinet's wife does not sue for a divorce. I suppose tbere is sometbing against tbe fellow. But sbe is too young and pretty to live alone all tbe best of ber days. Nice borse, tbat of bers ; and, by Jove ! ber groom is an old servant of mine — a splendid judge of borseflesb. I must remember tbe fellow." Jeannie repassed, still riding at a breakneck pace. Tbe gentleman wbo was talking to tbe duke caugbt ber attention ; sbe bowed. Just tben Paul passed alone ; Satanella was gossiping witb some people be did not affect. • Paul was feeling very wretcbed ; tbe sigbt of Jean made bis beart tbrob wildly. He rode on, trying to tbink of a plan to gain access to ber. He wislied sbe was safe in tbe quiet and seclusion of Deepdane ; be did not like tbe idea of seeing ber become a woman of fasbion. ^ ^ — _ .. ^ 310 BONNIE JEANj He felt utterly despairing and tired of life ; his only interest now was in his profession. His play was a success^ his theatre flourishing ; he was fast becoming a rich man. Society recognised him as a man of genius ; his social success was as great as his public triumphs, yet nothing gave him heart-ease, for he was hopelessly in love with his own wife, and she would have nothing to do with him ; he wondered sometimes : " Were the bounds eternal set To retain them strangers yet ? " At a fashionable reception Jean was introduced to the Duke of Ormsby, and he charmed her by his clever chit- chat, sympathetic manner, and knowledge of art. Hearing she was charitably disposed, he interested her in an account of a convalescent home he had started for sick children at a fashionable seaside resort, asked her to take a stall at a bazaar, or fancy fair, that he had got up at a public building. Jean, always glad of any fresh excitement, undertook the affair at once, and entered heart and soul into his plans ; promised to attend a garden-party to be intro- duced to the duke's only sister, a certain go-ahead little widow who moved in one of the fastest sets in London. The day of the garden-party came, and Jean drove down on the duke's drag to a pretty riverside retreat, where she was made very welcome by Lady Culmore, a dashing little brunette with a score of lovers. They played tennis, rowed on the river, and wound up by a dance on the velvety lawn by moonlight, the duke all the time paying respectful court to the new beauty, as our Bonnie Jean was called. He was more interested than he cared to confess in Jean, and when he drew rein at her own door and said good-night, her little tired hand in his, her languid eyes lifted in dusky beauty to his sight, he felt his sated heart beat with a new sensation strange and delifi'htful. For the first time he was really and truly in love, and meant to leave no stone unturned to win this witching girl-woman for his wife. The very next day he made private enquiry about her, set a clever lawyer to work, and discovered all there ■^ OKj THE POWER OF LOVE. 311 was to know of Jean's liist:ry ; found lier Lirtli and fortune good, tlie chance of lier freedom being gained great, and at once resolved to pay court to her. What if she were the wife of another, that other was unworthy. Satanella took pains to spread reports against Paul, for she, too, was anxious that his marriage with Jean sliould be annulled, and tried by all her subtle wits to compromise him in the world's eyes. She cared nothing for her own reputation, love was the supreme power that ruled her life ; to become Paul's wife she would gladly have beggared herself of all the goods of life she possessed. She schemed cleverly to entrap him, but indifference kept him at a safe distance ; women and wiuo had lost their charm for Paul, the gambler's spirit had died out, too, done to death by misery. Mental suffering had set its stamp upon Paul ; he had altered greatly. Satanella felt she was losing her hold on him, and the thought drove her almost mad with jealousy. Oh, how she hated Bonnie Jean, the innocent cause of all her anguish and rage ! Satanella was still in a dejected mood when a private detective sought her, and boldly asked her if she knew anything against Paul Martinet that could be brought forward as evidence against him if his wife could be persuaded to apply for a divorce. Satanella's heart leapt at the idea, but she was very cautious how she trusced a stranger; but the man gave a good report of the interview to his employer, and poor innocent Jean knew nothing of these schemes that were to alter the Vvhole course of her life. * The Duke of Ormsby became Jean's most constant guest, his respectful attention and interesting friendship filled Jean's life with fresh aims and ambitions. He very cleverly disguised his deep regard under a platonic friendship, and Jean was happy in a false security. Lady Culmore was her constant companion ; Jean seemed never to have a lonely moment, never isn- 312 BONNIE JEAN; OR^ THE POWER OF LOVE. Lad slie been so liappy since Panl and slie parted. In the innocence of lier heart she saw not the risk ran in this dangerously-sweet intercourse with the duke, whom she regarded with confiding friendliness^ owning to herself he was, next to Paul, the most attractive and interesting man she had ever known, and he was very careful not to scare her out of her delusive peace. Life was pleasant to him, sweetened by her constant companionship, and his gratitude to his clever little sister knew no bounds ; she helped him in silence, with a rare tact and sympathy, fully persuaded that in doing so she was acting kindly by her new friend, Bonnie Jean. A bright sonsie little woman was Lady Culmore, with a rare attractiveness and charm in her many moods and merry manners, and she was sincere' in her liking for Jean, whose fresh unspotted nature appealed to all the best in her. She could wish no woman a greater happiness than the love of her brother, Gaythorne Winge, Duke of Ormsby, whom she knew for the first time in his life to be truly in love. " Constance," said the duke, one bi'ight morniug when he had called upon his dainty little sister. " I want you to do me a favour. I am getting up a party of friends to visit me at my place in Kent, Ormsby Rise. I want you to be hostess, and persuade Bonnie Jean and somo of her people to be of the party." "It will be a bother to leave town just now. Gay; but anything to please you, dear. I will call on Jean to-day and persuade her to go to the Academy, and as it is Wednesday, I think I shall go on to the Exhibition^ to finish up with. We have no particular engagement except the ball at Devonshire's to-night ; we can look in for an hour quite late ; it is sure to be a dreadful crush, and it is really too hot to dance. You had better meet us at the Academy, and please bi'ing a man to help me play ^Gooseberry.'" Ormsby promised and went away, his heart and head full of Bonnie Jean. NOTICE.— This Work will be published every "Weduesdav. Orders should he given to vour Bookseller earlv. iS BONNIE JEAN No. 14. CHAPTER L. I'EAN sat among' lier flowers on the balcony under a sunblind, listening to a military baud ; at her feet_, on a cushion^ sat little Pridie. Jean was looking lovely in a soft dress of Indian muslin^ witli clusters of yellow jasmine at her throat and waist. She was reading a novel, and her heart was stirred with sympathy for the hero, a gallant fellow who gave up home and happiness for the w^oman he loved. While she sat listening and thinking, dipping the tips of her pink fingers in a tiny perfumed fountain, and w^atching the crystal drops drip from her hand, a carriage drove up, and a thundering knock resounded through the house. A second later, the footman announced Lady Cul- more. The pretty little gipsy came in, her maize-coloured Ottoman silks and priceless laces making a picture of artistic beauty. "Don't move, dear; I will come out to you. What a glorious day it is, but so warm ! How that child grows ! you ought to get Millais to paint him as the infant Hercules, or Cupid asleep in a bower of roses. Now, I entreat you not to send him away, you cannot imagine what a picture you make together. I came to drag you out, dear; 'tis a grand day at the Academy — • everyone worth seeing will be there." Lady Culmore sank down among the purple cushions of a lounge-chair, and began to fan herself vigorously with a big black fan. " How kind it is of you always to include me in your arrangements. I should be very lonely without you 5?- ^ ^ -^ ^ BONNIE JEAN; OR, THE PO-WER OP LOVE. 3l0 now, but I am afraid you are making me too fond of pleasure." " Nonsense, dear child ! Youth is tlie time for enjoy- ment — gather the rosebuds while you may, you know. Go to your maid and put on a big hat, and come as you are ; that dress is perfect." Jean, looking at the costly lace that edged the flounces, and fell in a creamy cascade from her neck to her feet, thought it ought to be perfect of its kind, considering it had cost her as much as a whole year's wardrobe when she was a girl at Deepdane. What a long way back her life of serene maidenhood seemed as she recalled it ! The scent of the meadow- sweet, the music of the birds, came back with beautiful distinctness, and she said as she plucked a spray of pale pink blossoms : "' This bright weather makes one think of the country. I am afraid mine is a very restless disposition, I am always desiring a change. A month ago I longed for London ; to-day I yearn for fresh fields and pastures new " My dear child, that is exactly how I feel. I saw a rainbow over the grim chimney-pots of our square this morning while Gay was talking, and an idea struck me how different the rainbow would look over the hop- gardens of beautiful Kent, and I immediately said to Gay, ' Get up a party to spend a month at Ormsby Rise/ and Gay, like the good-natured darling he is, consented. Suppose you make one of us, dear ? An old friend of yours, Lady Lyston, her brother, and a certain protegee of theirs, 'Miss Brassy, will, I believe, be of the party. It is really a pretty place this Ormsby Rise, and we can get up some charming picnics, have splendid boating, and enjoy our sweet selves in sylvan simplicity that will rest and restore us after the fatigues of town. Say you will come with us, dear, or my project will lose half its charm." A big brown moth, with under wings of vivid crimson, flapped'^down like a dead leaf upon the bosom of Jean^s white dress. She watched it unfold its beauty to their sight absently. » 316 BONNIE JEANj Should she accept this tempting invitation ? Lady Culmore's society was truly pleasant to her^ but would she not seem to accept the brother's homage if she became one of the party ? She was undeciiipd; prudence said, ''Deny yourself this pleasure"; inclination said, " (jO ; why should you not enjoy your life ? Gaythorne knows you are not free to accept his love." Then chance came to the rescue and whispered, "Let this lovely moth decide for you; drive it from its resting-place amid the flowers on your breast; if it fly away to the city of pleasure, remain here and refuse this tempting offer; if it fly to Lady Culmore, go, and say to yourself, '1 am by destiny directed.' '' She shook the pretty moth from her breast and watched it breathlessly. It fluttered its golden-brown wings a spcond, as though undecided which way to take, then, tempted by the softness of Lady Culmore's shimmeriag silks, nestled down like a dewdrop on her sleeve. " Oh, what a lovely moth, Jean ! Did you ever see a finer fellow, with his russet coat and crimson vest, and such big bright eyes ? I wish I could catch it ! See, 'tis in my handkerchief ! " She held up a cobweb-like piece of lace and cambric, and carried it into the drawing-room, where she lifted a fern-glass and put the fluttering thing inside, admiring its size and beauty as she did so, while Jean went away to dress for the Academy, and Felice, in pale pink cambric, with sash and bows of rich brown velvet, entered and carried Pridie away, and Lady Culmore fell into a deep thought. How would Gay's love-story end ? Would Jean seek her freedom, and give her youth, beauty, and riches into his keeping ? Truly life is full of chance. As the Duchess of Ormsby people would forget Jean had ever been the injured wife of the successful author and actor, Paul Martinet. The child was the greatest drawback. But there, he might die, or a thousand things might happen. ^^. ^ 5^ OR, THE POWEE OP LOVE. 317 Gay's happiness must be tlie first consideration. Marriage would steady liim, and keep liiin at Lome; and of all things, Lady Cnlmore most desired her brother to settle down in England. When Jean returned to her, the idea of her brother's marriage had become a mature conviction of good, and her bright dark eyes looked very kindly on the girl- woman who already had felt the weight of love too heavy for her innocent heart. At the Academy they met many friends, and Jean was relieved to find Ormsby was not among them. Just as they were about to leave, after a fleeting glance at the pictures, and much good-natured quizzing of their fair friends, they met the duke talking to an artist friend. His frank handsome face brightened up at sight of Jean, and his clasp of her soft hand was close and tender. " How tired you look, and pale too ! Has my energetic sister been dragging you about too much ? " " No ; it is warm here, and there is so much to see, one gets tired unconsciously." " Come and have an ice, some wine, and a rest. Constance won't go for an age now she has found some- one who understands her tall talk about art. I like the ' Leyton's ' ; don't you ? " " Yes ; they are poetic as Klat's world-paintings," answered Jean, as she allowed the duke to lead her through the crowd, and find her a seat by a marble table. She was bound to confess she felt tired, and was glad of a rest and refreshment. While she sat chatting brightly to the duke, who seemed to be devouring her with the adoration of his eyes, she saw her husband approach with a group of gentlemen. Jean felt her heart leap resentfully, as she met the reproach of his deep blue eyes, and a reckless gaiety took possession of her. She said witty things, sparkled, laughed, coquetted till she saw, strong man as he was, Paul grew heart- ^- 318 BONNIE JEAN J OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. faint with pain — his face went white, and his eyes closed. The duke seeing his sister and her friend looking for them, rose and went to them, and Paul seeing Jean was alone, bent over her chair and whispered hoarsely : " Beware how you drive me to desperation, Jean. What is that man to you ? " '' More than ever you were ; he is my dearest, truest friend." She saw the strong white hand, that still wore the beautiful ruby ring she had given him on his birthday, clench as it rested on the marble table. She felt his breath upon her cheek, and heard him whisper : " If you forget you are my wife, the mother of my child, I will kill you — I swear it ! I have been too weak, too yielding; all that must end. I must see you soon and alone. This sort of thing cannot go on ; you are the talk of the town." Jean laughed lightly. " Poor town, to be possessed by an object of so little interest ! Go, sir, your notice is an insult ; I have no husband." Paul left her with a groan ; he respected himself too much to make a scene, and he knew he dared not trust himself further. Jean saw him stagger blindly away, heard a crash, saw the crowd sway and surge towards a prostrate form, hid her eyes in her hands, and waited with intense horror to hear what had happened. The duke hastily came up, and said : '' Come, dear ; the heat has overpowered a man ; the crowd is awful. Let me take you out — this way. Ah, that is right, lean on me. I would to God I had the right always to guide you thus ! " ^- ^ CHAPTER LI. Y mistress has left towrij sir. I do not know wlien she will return. Yes, she has taken the nurse and Master Pridie. She travelled by the Mid-Kent line. I am sorry I can give you no further information." Paul turned away from Jean's door with a groan. What a will-o'-the-wisp Jean had become, flitting here, and there, and everywhere, never to be found long in one place ! And he felt too ill and disheartened to follow. For the first time in all his life he was overpowered by illness. His head swam ; his blood coursed heavily ; he felt listless, languid, glad to rest. He could go no farther now. For that night, at least, he must let things slide. His head was dazed ; he could not think ; he could only feel tired, disheartened, despondent. He hailed a hansom, and bade the man drive to his old quarters — the quaint chambers where Jean had come at midnight to ask him to marry her. He leant back with closed eyes, and wondered vaguely what the awful pain in his head meant. The lamps glinted to his dazed eyes one against the other ; the noise of the busy streets maddened him. Presently everything grew vague and indistinct, and at last a blessed insensibility soothed him. He leant his head back against the cushions, and fancied it was on Jean's breast that he reclined, then murmured her name in tones of all-pardoning love. When the cabman stopped his horse, and opened his little trap-door to peep in on his fare, he saw him huddled up as though in a deep sleep. 320 BONNIE JEAN j Hastily dismounting, he looked, called to Paul, l>ut lie took no notice; his lacklustre eyes only stared helplessly, and he said in a thick, indistinct voice : " Let me sleep a little longer, Jean. I have had such a happy dream, darling. Hold me close ! 'Tis so long since I slept by your side." The man scratched his head, tilted his hat over his eyes, and said to a policeman who had come up : "Bless me if I don't think it's sunstroke ! That comes of wearing a pot-hat without a cabbage-leaf inside it in the dog-days. ¥7hat shall 1 do with him ? " The policeman looked at Paul, then hastily got into the cab and lifted his head. " Why, it is the great actor, Paul Martinet.^ Lend a hand, mate. His chambers are here, and his man is looking out of the y,^indow.'^ The faithful Peter came out, all anxiety and alarm. . Between them they carried Paul into the house, sent for a doctor, and got him to bed. The doctor, after a brief examination, declared it a serious case, and asked that his friends might be sent for. " Friends ! " said Peter, with a sardonic grin. " I reckon Pm about his best friend. His wife has forsaken him, his lady-friends are a gay lot, and he has neither mothen nor sisters, and I never heard him mention his cousins or his aunts. Of course they must know at the Bonville that he is ill, and Mr. Merrick Avill take all responsibility. This illness has been coming on spme time. I knew it. I have warned him, but he is as wilful as a woman. La'iy Dandergard will take on. She, at least, cares for him, though she has been his curse." " I am going that way. I will call at the theatre, and send you a good nurse,'^ said the doctor, drawing on his gloves. Peter would gladly have told him to mind his own business, but feared to offend him. So the doctor called at the theatre, saw Satanella at the end of the play, and told her of Paul's sudden and serious illness. Satanella was shocked. Paul and she had not been very good friends of late, his coldness had repelled her ; -X ORj THE POWER OF LO\'E. 321 but the idea of him alone and ill aroused all the dormant love in her heart. ''You need not send for anyone; I will attend to Mr. Martinet mj'-self/' she said with great decision. A crowd of admirers waited for her in the green- room ; she passed them with a curt ncd went to her dressing-roomj and hastily divesting herself of all her stage finery^ put on a soft dress of cool cloudy grey, got into her brougham, and ordered the man to drive to Paul's chambers. !She found Paul with his head covered in wet ban- dages; he was raving like a madman. Peter had as much as he could do to hold him down, and was glad of Satanella's help. Satanella had nerves of steel ; quietly and calmly she tried to soothe the sick man by humouring his fancies and coaxing him to drink his medicine. After this, for weeks, he lay 'twixt life and death, attended by Satanella's untiring devotion. While he lay unconscious of his peril, Jean was having a good time at Ormsby Piise — a beautiful place in the prettiest part of Kent. Lady Culmore made a splendid hostess; never had Jean spent a more enjoyable time. She had no leisure for regret, every hour of each golden day was filled with pleasure ; parties of all descriptions were got up in her honour. Gaythorne paid respectful court to her ; his homage was patent to all eyes. Lady Lyston had not been there a day before she noticed it, and taking Jean aside, she said kindly : "Jeannie, dear, you have blossomed into a very beautiful and attractive woman. I never thought when I first saw you that you would develop into a heart- less coquette. Hush, dear! hear me out. What I say is good for you to hear — a true friend never flatters ; and I must say I am greatly disappointed in you. You are a wife, yet allow men to lose their hearts to you, knowing you can never reward their love. Can't you understand how a man can suffer for a ^^o:nan? We are only too fond of ignoring the r ftelines, and fancying We monopolize all the sentiment, but we do n 322 BONNIE JEAN j not ; notliing could convince you of the suffering you can inflict, unless you had once experienced the same pain. Ormsby is a good fellow — generous and affec- tionate to a fault ; he loves you.'' She paused for breath for a moment, and then continued : '' Paul is breaking his heart for your forgiveness, and is puzzled to determine what is his unpardonable sin against you. My foolish brother, Fred, is full of you ; that gallant old roue, St. Clare, is distracted on your account ; and you mildly say you cannot help it, but I say you can ; flowers would not incline their faces to the sun if the sun did not smile upon them and make them feel its warmth. If you lived quietly at home, or returned like a dutiful wife to your husband, men would not go mad about your pretty face." Jean drew herself up to her full height, and said haughtily : " There is a wise saying, Lady Lyston, that tells us none should interfere between man and wife; each heart knows its own bitterness. I am not bound to proclaim my wrongs on the housetops. Let it suffice that they are so serious they have endangered more than happiness — they have endangered life. My hus- band has wronged me in every way a man can wrong a woman. I could claim ns-j freedom to-morrow, if I liked to enlist the sympathies of the world and call in the aid ot the law. I may yet do so. Who knows ? I am very young to be alone in life. I hope this is the last time you will interfere in my affairs. You did so before, and your interference led to the most disastrous results. If I choose to suffer in silence, I suppose I am at liberty to do so, but I have yet to learn why the sins of others should shut me out from all the pleasures in life. Suf- fering has not made a recluse of me yet, and if I can help it, never shall do so. Forgive me if I have spoken plainly ; I feel hurt that you should think ill of me." Jean hastily sought her own room, to indulge in a good cry, and Lady Lyston, bewildered by her outburst, stood where she had left her, in the conservatory, under a great green palm. ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 323 Just as she was about to follow Jean, to make peace^ tlie Duke of Ormsby stopped her, saying: " Lady Lyston, I have heard all you said to that poor girl. Listen to me. I love her dearer than all else in life, and believe she would, in time, learn to care for me. It is my great happmess to think that; and I mean to leave no stone unturned to win her. I have had advice as to her case, and find it will be easy to procure a divorce if I can persuade her to consent to a public trial. Constance thinks she will. Of course, until she is free, my love must be a secret from the world. I can trust you ; I know you are stauncii and true. I ask your help, your sympathy. You are Jean's friend; you must wish to see her happy. You are my friend, and so must sympathise with my suspense and suffering. Martinet has already found consolation in Satanella's love." Lady Lyston stood silent for a moment, then said : " I suppose I have strange notions of honour, but my idea is that the death of man or wife alone can cancel the vows that in God's name bind them together till death does them part. Marriage is indeed a lottery, yet we take the vows upon us with our eyes open, and should have strength enough to stand by our bond or never be bound. I don't say a woman or man should be com- pelled to live with anyone who had proved unworthy, but I do say there should be no second marriage till one of the partners in the first contract were dead." " I do not agree with you, and I sincerely hope you will not make a convert of Jeannie to your strange creed." " I shall not discuss the subject with Jean ; she must act as she thinks right. I am sorry for her, for I do not think she has yet seen an end to her suffering, for she loved her husband dearly, and one cannot love and unlove by the direction of law or reason." The duke's face clouded, and he left her abruptly, fully persuaded that his love would never find an advo- cate in Lady Lyston. She certainly was an enemy to this new loYe, for she sat down at once and wrote an ^- 324 BONNIE JEANj OR^ THE POWER OF LOVE. account of both conversations to Paul^ and bade him lose no time in acting on the defensive. Satanella took the letter from Peter^ and having no scruples of honour, opened it, and read the contents with sparkling eyes. That very night, while Paul slept the dead sleep of exhaustion, Satanella wrote to the Duke of Orms^by, shamelessly degrading her womanhood, by declaring she Avould be a witness for the prosecution saying that she was at that very time living with Paul as his wife. ^- CHAPTBR LII. |HE grand drawing-room at Ormsby Rise was brilliant with light, life, and gaiety ; the duke had given a grand ball, and the guests flocked from the heated ball-room to the cooler drawing-room, to rest and hear an impromptu concert, got up among the guests. Jeannie had sang a bright little song, and now sat playing the accompaniment to a love-song for the duke, who had a fine rich tenor voice, and was given to com- posing very charming little melodies. He had put a little poem to music, and sang it now with great feeling, for Jean had been unusually de- pressed, and he wanted her to understand his love and sympathy. " If my heart could speak, Jean, it would surely find words that could console you,^' he had said but an hour before, and Jean had flushed and trembled under his gaze ; and even now, as she struck the key-note to his pretty prelude, she recalled his honest words and listened to the sweet burden of the song with pleasure. When the song ended a breathless hush prevailed the room, for the song had gushed from the heart of the singer, as the melody of birds rushes on the air in golden dawn. The music throbbed in Jean^s brain like a syren's song ; the glamour of this man's great passion stirred a subtle sense of sympathy in her that was not love, though it was so like it that it might have been called love's twin- brother. Later in the night, when she stood in the silver moon- light by Gaythorne's side, she felt powerless to check the flood of speech that rushed over her like a fiery torrent. A 326 BONNIE JEAN; Gayttorne was moved out of himself to speak as he had never spoken before to mortal ; something of a poet, he found eloquent speech, full of passionate appeal. His was a true and enduring love. Jean felt the passionate power of it through all her being, though she knew she never could return its intensity of tender- ness. They stood together beside a deep still lake; willows waved their drooping branches above them. Gaythorne had taken Jean's hands in his; his eyes looked into the moved face of the woman he loved with such a bewildering passion. Jean's face looked pale in the moonlight, and her great dusky eyes had a frightened look ; the silvery sheen of her dress made a light about her; the jewels on her bosom rose and fell stormily with her quickened breathing. She could not find words at first to answer him, she seemed under a spell, powerless to still the torrent of burning speech, till he, emboldened by her silence, drew her hand up to his breast with a kind close clasp, and tried to draw her within the circle of his arms. " Hush, please ! I ought not to listen to you. No, do not touch me, or I shall hate you. What have I done, to make you forget I am a wife ? " " You have done nothing, darling ; 'tis my own mad love that makes me forget everything but that I love you, and we are alone — together. Forgive me, dear ; I would not vex you for the world. I honour you as dearly as I did my dead mother. I want you for my wife ; only give me permission to act for you, and before the year is out you shall be a free woman; all trouble, anxiety, and expense shall be spared you. You need do nothing, darling, but consent to be legally freed from your cruel bondage. Only give me a word of hope to live on, and you shall hear no more of my love till I can make it lawful, and you are free to be my wife ; then, iu the beautiful future, we will be happy— so happy, that you will forget you ever called another man husband.'^ S? 5€ on, THE POWER OF LOVE. 327 Jean was bewildered, carried away by the charm of his persuasive voice. She did not love him yet; the picture he painted dazzled herj to be his honoured, well-loved wife, would be to be lifted above tempta- tion. He would make a kind wise guardian for her boy; best of all, he would love her, and she would never feel lonely. Then his exalted rank had its charm for her ; society had made her ambitious. She was sorely tempted; he saw that, and pressed his argument so cleverly that she at last, with a great heart-throb, yielded — gave her consent for the legal proceedings to be set on foot, sincerely believing she was doing her best for everyone concerned. His rapturous gratitude well repaid her for the con- cession while she was with him, but once, alone in the solitude of her chamber, her mind misgave her. What had she done ? Consented to a lasting separa- tion from her husband, the only man she had ever loved — the father of her child. Her heart cried within that it would be monstrous to marry again while her first husband lived — a legalised adultery, revolting to a pure soul. Some instinct of purity warned her against such a step — jealousy, too, put in its protest; if she were free, so also would Paul be ; and why should he not marry, call another woman wife — have children — ah, and perhaps be happier than he had ever been with her ? She threw herself down by the bedside in a passion of tears. She loved Paul dearer than life; dared she shut the door against his possible return and repent- ance ? Yet, had he not wished her dead ; had he not wronged her as only a man can wrong a woman who is his wife ? Should her whole life be spoiled for a foolish sen- timent ? Why should she not learn to love the duke ? he was all that is desirable in a man, and madly in love with her ; and after all, might it not be better to be loved than love ? 328 BONNIE JEAN J Perplexed beyond the power of human reason, Jean fell on her knees, and prayed to he God-directed. Fervent, though few, were the heart-felt words she spoke in the silent chamber, with the light of heaven upon her; and her prayers eased her heart of half its burden. Ah, what new pain would to-morrow bring ? What wrong and ruth watched and worked foi- evil while she slept the pure still sleep of those who pray ? On his bed of pain, crying for her with fever-cracked lips in vain, lay Paul, and by his side, where his wife should have been, stayed Satauella, plotting to destroy for ever his chance of a reauion with his wife. The lamp cast a yellow glare over the ghastly face of the almost dying man, glinted on the pale gold of Sata- nella^s head, lighted up her lovely evil face, with its grey-green eyes deep hid by the heavy fringe of dark thick lashes. Her long supple fingers held a pen; she wrote quickly burning words that shamed her womanhood, and brought a pained flush to her pale cheek. '^'Tis hard to condemn, degrade, disgrace oneself, but ^tis my only chance ; I am drawn to it by the power of my great love. Will he ever forgive me ? Surely he must for pity's sake shield me from the world, which I count well lost for love of him. What if he were to die, and this wrong against his honour unforgiven ? Oh, the thought maddens me ! He shall not — must not die ; my whole existence is bound up in his, my poor, heart-sick, world-worn lover — my own dear noble sweet- heart ! " Paul, moved by her pained afresh. She moistened his burning head with sweet- aside the curtain that the upon him ; kissed his hollow cheek, pressed his thin hands to her aching heart, and cried over him as mothers cry over sick children. So the night passed away during her weary vigil, and the purple dawn crept in caressingly and lay like a caress upon Satanella's pale face; and the sick man Satanella knelt beside thoughts to pity him parched lips, cooled his smelling essence, pulled cool night air might blow OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 329 slept at last quietly, his weary plaint no longer stirred tlie silence like an echoed pain, and with a gratetuL heart Satanella laid her lovely head beside him, and slept the deep dreamless sleep of exhaustion. So Peter found them, when he came noiselessly m to offer to relieve Satanella's watch. He hastily shaded them from the light, a softened look on his hard face. His dear master was at last enjoying that greatest of boons— healthful sleep. Looking at Satanella, Peter said to himself : " She may be a bad one, but she is good to him-- better far than that young fool of a wife. I wish he had chosen differently. This poor lady deserves his dearest love ; she has earned her right to him, for under Heaven her care and love will save him." A sunny breeze sprang up, and fluttered the white curtains of the bed, lifted Satanella's hair from her fore- head, and stirred the lace upon her breast, yet still she slept, worn with watching. Peter noiselessly set the room to rights, then crept away to make a fragrant cup of tea for Satanella when she awoke. The sun was high in the heavens when Paul awoke to reason to find Satanelhi sleeping by his side, her soft, white arms wreathed about his neck. He was too weak to move, and so lay wondering why she was there, marvelling at his weakness and the strange weight in his head. Peter came to the bedside and fed him like a child from a spoon, whispering : oi • i if " Don't wake her, sir, for pity's sake. She is halt dead with fatigue ; she has tended you with a grand devotion, regardless of the scoffs and sneers of the So Satanella slept, and Paul dozed by her side, too weak to care about anything but perfect quiet and repose. ^:^ l He was deeply grateful to Satanella— who would not have been ?— and when a few days later his shrewish landlady protested against Satanella's stay, ho yielded to Satanella's entreaty. She had whispered : 830 BONNIE JEAN ; OK, THE POWER OF LOVE. " Do not let lier send me away, Paul. Silence her by saying I am your wife. What can it matter ? I do not mind, so surely you need not. Only don't let her insult me before Peter.^^ And Paul, against reason and instinct, complied with her request. " Anything for peace — eh, Peter ? " he said with a faint smile ; and Peter said he Avished tho falsehood had been truth, for Peter was entirely won over by Satanella's devotion to his beloved master. -^ I'G) &\ s?- Cn AFTER LIIT. ATANELLA'S letter gave Orrasby a liuge heap of satisfaction; it simplified matters, and made Jeannie's case clear. Poor Jeau, full of remorse, had come __- to him and humbly begged him to release her from her promise, and at once stop the legal pro- ceedins's he had set afloat. Ornisby for answer gave her Satanella's scandalous letter, and left her alone to read it. o ■ ■ -, ■ When he returned he found her in a dead famt m his study, Satanella's letter by her side. He did not ring for assistance, but brought her to himself ; then per- suaded her to lie down on a couch by the open wmdovN", and try neither to think nor speak till she felt better So Jean lay silently looking up at the serene blue sky, her heart on fire with jealous anguish. All her pride was aroused ; she would not break her heart, spoil her life for a man who could be so base, so lost to all sense of honour. She would be free, she would forg^jt him, and find peace in a new life. So her bewildered brain ran riot, and her heart hardened. The duke looked at her from time to time, but said nothing ; he wanted the matter to get well worked into her mind; he knew she suffered, and felt sorrowful for her pain, but ho honestly believed he was acting a good part bv her, and when, after a long silence, he saw her enforced calm break up, and two great tears f al upon her pale cheeks he conld bear it no longer, and talhng on his knees by her side clasped her hands m his, saying tenderly : , , . i • i. lt, " Do not grieve for that man, darling; he is not worth a sino-le thought from you ; he does not merit one regret I know your heart is sore, the wrong is so recent; but take comfort and courage from the thought there is ^- -^ 332 BONNIE jean; happiness and honour ahead for you. Love like mine is unchanging ; it must win its reward. Oh, my darling ! what can I do or say to comfort you ? It makes me wretched to see you so upset."- Jean did not repulse him, though she would gladly have been left alone to realise her sad position, to read again Satanella's cruel letter, Jean felt she had little right to blame Paul, since her desertion had driven him to put another in her place, yet she felt she would never see or speak with him again. After a time she subdued her emotion, and went to find solace in the sight of her child. She took him from Felice, and bade her leave them alone. Sitting down on the floor, with the child cradled on her breast, she wept bitterly, saying sadly : "■ We are alone now, little one — quite alone ; you have no father, I no husband, and all is hopeless wretchedness and gloom.'' This mood lasted for hours ; and, Felice returning, frightened by Jean's white face, said : " Oh, ma'am, what is the matter ? You are ill ! " '' No, not ill, Felice, only wretched ; I have had bad nevv^s. I shall go to my room ; say I am indisposed. I cannot see anyone to-day." Jean shut herself up in her room and wrote a long letter to her lawyer, bathed her eyes, and tried to rest. Lady Culmore came, full of tact, kindness, and sym- pathy, coaxed Jean to eat and drink, and after a time persuaded her to go down among her other guests. Jean allowed her to dress her in an opal-coloured satin, trimmed with cloudy lace, and finding among her jewels the magnificent set of opals Satanella and Sir Duke had sent for a wedding-gift, clasped them on her fair throat and wrists. The efl'ect was superb. Jean looked like a white cloud flushed with purple ; never had Lady Culmore seen her look so sweet ; her beauty seemed a revelation. Jean shuddered at sight of the gems, and would have taken them off, saying : "^ Oh, Constance, they are omens of misfortune, and surely I have suffered enough ! I want no new trouble." -^ OE, THE POWER OF LOVE. 333 But Constance was strong-minded, and did not believe in omens, and Jean allowed her to persuade her. Gaythorne met her at the foot of the stairs with a bunch of cream-coloured roses; he looked so handsome and full of concern for her that Jean felt comforted by his presence. She allowed him to take her hand and lead her into an ante-room ; even smiled faintly and tried to look happy when he asked if she felt better. She allo^yed him to fix some of the moss-roses on her shoulder, and almost pitied him when she saw him flush and tremble as his hand touched her. He at least loved her truly ; she had been ungrateful to feel so desolate while he held her so dear. His smooth head was bent over her lovingly as he held her hand, and said in a tender undertone ; " My Bonnie Jean, my own fair sweet love, how beau- tiful you are ! My duchess will be the most beautiful that ever bore the name of Ormsby.^^ And Jean felt flattered by his homage, and the power of his exalted rank ; she, the deposed, deserted wife, would show the world her spirit was not yet broken ; she would wrap her pride about her like a magic mantle — none should say she broke her heart because of Satanella. That night there was no brighter face, no gayer laugh than hers. Men made much of her, women envied her, and Gaythorne felt an exultant delight in watching her, for he believed she w^as gladdened by his love. Could he have seen her sobbing her heart out in the solitude of her chamber, he would have felt less assured of her happiness. The next day Jean told her host she must shorten her visit ; under existing circumstances she thought it better she should not remain under his roof, and he sensibly saw she would avoid future scandal, and he liked this discretion in his future wife. He was sorry for her to break up this pleasant party so soon, still more sorry to miss her from his side. "Give me three days' grace, darling; I cannot say good-bye yet; and give me all your time while you are 834 BONNIE JEANj liere. I wani you to get used to my love — I want you to know me thorouglily, and take away with you a plea- sant memory of your future liome." Jeannie allowed liim to take lier on the river, and spent a pleasant day. He managed to keep her all to himself. Never while life lasted did he forget the gracious beauty of that long summer day spent on the shining river under green boughs. He remembered evei-y detail of Jean's pretty boating- dress_, the sad softened expression of her pale lovely face. They landed on a pretty wooded islet, where luncheon was spread, and a very merry party greeted them. Jean's hands were full of fairy-like ferns and pale blue forget-me-nots, and as he helped her to land, looking very handsome and manly in his flannels, Gay thorn e plucked a bunch of the wee blue lovers'-mottoes from her breast, and placed them in his pocket-book, say- ing they should lay upon his heart when he was dead. Jean shuddered at his words ; death and he seemed as far apart as the poles. She dreaded the quiet of Deepdane, and felt she could not live in London knowing Paul was there. She longed now for her freedom as intensely as she had once dreaded it, and she now quite decided to take Gaythorne for a husband, and let him take her abroad till the scandal had blown over. She knew she could trust him, and felt that in time she might learn to love him too ; already she felt the comfort of his love, the pleasure of his society. She dared not think of Paul ; it made her heart ache, and her mind whirl when she did. Ah, could she have known the truth about him, how differently she would have felt, how gladly she would have gone down on her knees and begged his forgive- ness. She looked forward with relief to the time when, as Gaythorne's wife, she would be safely sheltered from all interference from Paul — Paul who laboured back to life but for the hope of winning her. OB, THE POWER OF LOVE. 335 Satanella was very sensible with him^ exacting no attention, seeming to care only for his comfort and return to health. She -waited upon him as a slave does on a sultan ; read, wrote, thought, worked for him, as if to show him what a model wife she would be if he could care for her, Peter was w^on by her devotion, and gave her com- plete obedience, even at a hint from her informed his master that she had a favoured admirer whom she was likely to marry. Paul was glad of this, but felt anxious lest lier attention to him should do her injury, and sug- gested as much to her, at which she smiled and said : " Hush, dear boy ; as if my care for you in your extremity could prejudice me in any just man's eyes ! I am not a model of all the virtues — I never professed to be; people take me just as I am, or not at all. Don't trouble about me ; I shall be happy iu my own way." And Paul, worn and weary, too weak to think, too stupid almost to feel, fell asleep, and Satanella smiled her sad hard smile that had so much of self-scorn in it, knowing well that the Duke of Ormsby was work- ing well to gain his end, and that, though her part in the transaction might make an enemy of Paul, at least it would part him from Jean for life. "If you could only coax him away from England and work till he is quite recovered, we could save him,'^ said the doctor gravely, in answer to Satanella's enquiry about Paul. " I will try," she said, '' even if I have to lure him away by some dear deceit, for there is business of importance coming oE that if he is dragged into will kill him.'^ She was thinking of the trial, and dreading its effect upon him. That very day she set to work to plot and plan how best to coax Paul away, now that, with care, he was well enough to be moved. -k 336 BONNIE JEAN; OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. She enlisted the aid of Sophy and Mr. Merrick at the theatre, and took them back, after the perform- ance, to see Paul. Paul could just manag-e to sit up for an hour now, and it went to Sophy's heart to see how altered and ill he looked. She squeezed his hand sympathetically, and suggested all sorts of things to win him to think of a change. '^ You will never get well, caged up here, old man ; make a complete cure of it while you are about it. Why not try Scotland ? My old man has a pretty shooting-box there on a breezy mountain-side. The air of the Highlands is the best pick-me-up laossible, and Peter would go to take care of you,'' said Sophy, stroking his thin hands with both her plump jewelled ones. '' Leave the theatre to my old man and me, business to your lawyer, and shake yourself free of all uiipleasantness, and only think of getting well. Nothing is done without health. Come, lady fair, add your persuasion to mine, and make him promise." Sophy drew Satanella towards her by the skirt of her dress, and Mabel, moved by Paul's haggard looks, went down on her knees by his side, and said softly : "Paul, you have daily told me of your gratitude for my care, and asked me to name my reward. I name it now. Go away unknown to everyone; refuse to see and hear anything of business till you are well. It only wants a complete change of air, scene, and a perfect tranquility for you to be yourself again. Do consent, deai-, if only to please me." And anxious to end a companionship he knew to be compromising iii sight of the world, Paul consented to be sent away, just when he was most needed to fight his own battles. Before going he wrote to his lawyer, telling him to transact all business in his absence, also refused to give even his business people his address, saying he intended to have a complete rest, and, weak as an infant, went away with Satanella, leaving the coming case undefended, and his conduct open to all sorts of misrepresentations. NOTICE.-This Work \v-:ii he pntliahed every Wednesday. Orders should he given to youi Bookseller early. bomnle .trak No 15. r'TTAPTET! hlY. |IlKM i Lave seen you safely settJed in your ne-w quarters, Paul, I must go back to work. i don't care to trust my part too long to tkat pretty American; she vrill win my people's hearts from me." '•'Not .she," said Paul, his profound belief in Sata- n&lla unimpaired. Ue sat in a first-class carriage wrapped in n plaid, looking but the shadow of himself. Ho had vainly protested against Satan olla accom- panying him, but a wilful woman will have her way, and he gave in from sheer weakness. She petted and helped him to her heart's content, and he was grateful, for he knew nothing of her treachery, and only saw her loving care and kindnes.-. A soft mist was falling like a silver veil when they arrived at their destination— a quaint Highland village. An old-fashioned pony-chaise waited to take them to Loch Doon, the name of the shooting-lodge where Paul hoped to recover his lost health. Everything about them looked so quaint and fresh that Paul was roused to take an interest in his sur- roundings. His artist taste was pleased by the sight of the purple hills, wild vegetation, and rippling rivulets. They drove through a straggling villnge toahillv high road, from whence they branched away to a verdant valley. Close to a narrow river that ran through the valley stood a sort of Swiss cottage, surrounded by birches and big Tmshy garden plants ; inside, the little house was cosy in the extreme; warm-hued carpets and hangings, dark polished walls and furniture ; everything for .sub- stantial comfort. ^ 150NN1E JEAN ; OE, THE POWER OF LOVE. 389 A pailuur that looked out on the orchard behind the house was bright with firelight, and a table laid for two tempted the appetite, Tn the narrow hall stood a tall bony old woman, with soft bands of white hair drawn back from an open noble forehead. She wore a bright crimson merino dress, full and pkiin, gathered at waist and wrists like a ploughman's smock-frock ; a big white linen apron with a bib^ a wide white collar, deep cuffs, and a white cap with a crimson ribbon, buckled shoes, grey stockings, and a bunch of keys hanging from her girdle completed her becoming though quaint costume. The old lady had fine eyes, strongly marked features, a slim upright figure, and a good set of strong white teeth ; in fact, a handsome, well set-up characteristic old woman, full of life, energy, determination, and will, Paul looked at her with interest as she took his coat, wheeled a chair to the fire, and poked it into a bright blaze. " Well, mother, what is your name, and who are you ? " asked Paul, peering up through the uncertain light at the towering form before him. " My name is Prair. I am housekeeper, cook, nurse — anything in reason.^' " Well then, Prair, get some warm wine, there's a good soul, and send Lady Dandergard somewhere to re- move her wraps." Satanella had been standing by the window, a hand- some figure in her plain cloth travelling dress, with a close hat made of the crimson breast of a bird. She turned nervously as he spoke, and obeying a sign from the old woman, followed her up the ill-lighted narrow stairs to a chamber above — a bright fresh-looking room, hung with pink chintz. Directly they got inside the room the elder woman closed the door, and said sharply : " So this is the man that you have been mad about so long. A poor sickly wretch, I could crush him like a fly ! " " I hope he will not be sickly long ; you are a clever nurse, you can pull him round better than any doctor." >*■ 340 BONNIE JEAN; SataiU'lla llii'ow hev liat on tlio l)eJ^ pulled off Lcr Joug gloves, and with a sigh of satisfaction plunged hor face in a basin of fresh spring water, laving it with hor hands as some men do ; then she rubbed her soft oval cheeks till the colour came bright and fresh, and looked up like a terrier through her damp hair at the old lady, v,dio, upright as a dart, stood by the open window pick- ing the dead leaves oif a climbing rose-tree that put forth its pretty pink buds close to the diamond-paned casement. " You look well, old lady/' " I live well, young one ; I ' only wish you could ^v.y the same. How long do you expect me to sta.y here ? Eemember home needs me.'' ''I want you to stay till Mr. Martinet is well; I want you to keep all letters, papers — in l'act_, all business matters away from him till I return ; it is the only chance of curing the disorder of the brain from which he suffers. Peter will help you ; ho loves his master dearly. Ah, and when he is well I want you to go to Dandergard Park as housekeeper, friend — what you will." " No, my girl; I go back to my own humble home, it was honestly got, not a stick or stone in it is stained by a dishonoured recollection. When you want me you can come home; when I want you I can send for you ; only don't try to drag me into any of your schemes. It I discovered you played me false, I'd serve you as I did when you told me that lie about the silver cup — you remember ? " Mabel's face darkened. "'Ah, I remember; that vra3 the turning-point in mv life you have to answer for ; that hardening process that made me what I am. But times are changed; I am no longer a weak hot-tempered girl. I think the process would be dangerous, old lady." " I'd ri,sk that, Molly." That name brought a softer look into Satanella's eyor., for the old w^oman had spoken it tenderly. " How did you leave the old man ? " she asked. "Hearty, my girl ; he writ you a letter — see, here it is. Now mind me, if he's asked for money, he's not to ^z^. . , . ^ 01?, THE r.")TVET7 OF T.OVE. oil Iiave it; lio don't want it, and he shall not tulce it; if yon give it, it goes to tlio poor — I swear it ! ^' ]\Iabel took the letter and put it in her pocket. '' Yon are over hard on him, old lady/' "Because I happen to care for him a little still ; if I did not, he might drink liimself to death and v^'olconic, certainly no one would miss him l3ut me ; homo would not be home without Jim." Without another word the old lady departed, grim, upright, and severe. She crossed Peter on the stairs, and favoured liira with a deep scrutiny, then went into a sweetly-clcun Icitchen at the back of the house to dish up a goud dinner. A sandy -haired, big-boned Highland lassie helped her, and a stupid-looking man, who v/as gardener, coachman^ groom, footman, and goodness knows what, watched them with hungry eyes. Satan ella stepped out on the landing at sound of looter's footsteps j a little bath-room faced them. She motioned him to go in, closing the door as she followed, and said : " i^ou are sure yon understand wh.at yon have to do for me, Peter ? '' "Yes, my lady; you eicplained clearly: If lettera come, forwarded by Mr. Merrick from the theatre, I nni to find out their contents and get the master to let mo reply as you have directed, and he is to sign at foot of letters. I also understand, that when this unpleasant business is ended, if the master cuts up rough and dis- charges me, that I may take butler's place at Dander- gard with a heavy screw, or accept a small public to put my Pollie in by the sea-side, money being no object to your ladyship, as you have already obligingly proved." " Yes, that is all right, Peter. Remember, he must not interfere in this legal business, the case must go unde- fended ; when he is free he will be happy. ^' " I hope so, my lady. 'Tis a ticklish business, but, a.^ you say, his interference could do no good, and might bring on the old illness ; and if the lad}^ wants her free- dom to bestow herself n])on another, she will find away -k 342 BO^NLK JEAN; OR, THE POWiai OF LOVE. to get it, and, perhaps, will soil her pretty soul with sin. Well, I'm tired of service, and both ready and willing to serve yon, since you are so very liberal; but I certainly can't quite see how the master is to be hoodwinked to the extent you describe/' " I have other help, Peter. A lawyer's clerk will come here, misrepresent the matter, pretend to stay proceedings till Mr. Martinet is better. Paul will do anything to gain time, and may try to see Mrs. Marti- net ; but, of course, that must be prevented. She won't see him if she can help it, and we must manage that she can help it. Hark ! the dinner-bell ! Pll see you again before I go. Believe me, you shall never repent be- friending me. You know me to be a woman of my word." " I do, my lady, and I'll keep my part of the contract." Satanella held out her little jewelled hand impulsively. Peter clasped it respectfully, and she hastened away, leaving him looking ruefully at his open palm. " She clutched it like a vice, and her fingers burnt like live coals. One would think there was liquid fire instead of human blood flowing in her veins. I should not like to play her false. She is fierce enough to shoot a fellow who dared play the traitor." ^ !^- ^ CHAPTER LY. HE night had closed in chill and dull. Satanella drew the crimson curtains together, stirred up the fire, wheeled the sofa close to the table, shook iip the pillows, filled and lighted PauFs pet pipe, poured out a bumper of prime claret, and coaxed him to make himself comfortable, " 'Tis my last night with you for a long time, dear old boy, so let us enjoy it like sensible folks. What shall I read to you ? Here is Bret Harte's ' Man on the Beach ' ; will that do, dear ? " " Admirably,^' said Paul, blinking at the bright blaze. Satanella had changed her travelling-dress for one of rich purple velvet, braided with gold. Her regal beauty struck Paul almost like a revelation. She read on and on with pathos and humour, missing nothing that the author would count a good point. The mellow lamplight shone on MabeFs wavy golden hair and the waxen whiteness of her skin as she sat in a low chair at Paul's feet, smiling up at him lovinglv. " I shall never forget to-night, Paul ; you and I alone together, shut out from the world and the weather in cosy companionship ; we seem to belong to each other so entirely. Oh, how I wish it could be always so ! " She laid her soft cheek against his hand, and looked into the fire-glow with tear-dimmed eyes. "You made your own choice, my dear Queen Mab, and I thing you chose wisely. I am not good to get on with now, and there are brighter things in store for 3'our beautiful womanhood than comforting a man sick iu mind, heart, and body. You will go back to the world that worships you, and I shall struggle to get well alone. It is better so ; each has work to do, and though our paths in life must separate, we can keep a kind memory ^■ -k 344 BONNIE JEAN ; of each other. I for oue shall uever cease to rcmemher tlie woman who forgot all for friendship, and nursed me as a dear sister. Had it not been for your care I must hiivo died, dear; no one else would have had patience with me, poor love-sick fool that I am." He put his hand on her head and smoothed her soft. crimpy hair caressingly. He was very fond of Mabel, she had been so faithful and kind ; when all else forsook him, she had been by his side to succour and save. Satanella took his hand in both hers and pressed her lips to it passionately, saying : " Ah, Paul, if you only knew hoAv much I care foj' you — what a terrible wrench it is to tear myself from 3^our side, you would pity me ! '^ " Poor little woman, I wish I could make you happ3\''^ '• So you could, Paul, if you could truly tell me I am your heart's dearest, the one true love of voui- life.'^ She had fallen on her knees and turned an im- passioned face to him. A bitter pang of pain for her stung Paul to the quick ; but he could not be false to himself and Jean ; so, takino- her face in his hands and kissing her forehead kindlv, he said with a deep sigh : " Ah, my girl, I wish for my own sake and yours i could say the words you wish to hear, but — God help me ! — I cannot. I love as men love — but once, and dear as you are, poor queen, it is not you I love v/iih undying pain. 1 could not speak falsely to you, dear; the truth is kindest and best. Next to my wife and child you are my dearest; it might have been other- wise had the womanhood awakened in you sooner, and you had shown how sweetly good you could be; but the time is past, our fates are fixed; always friends, loyal true friends, but lovers never more; between us lies an impassable barrier — vows taken in God's name. Wo are in honour bound to remember my wife. Do not cry, dear; you^ll like mo some day for my cruelty io-night. Dry your tears, poor queen. Don't you know mcu'j hearts lie like daisies under your feet y Yi;u lia-rc hui io -t'joi-i (o L'-ather them.'-' !^ ^- OK, THE POWER OF LOVE, 345 '' Ah, Paul^if you could look into my heart you would not taunt me go ; you loved mc oncOj surely the lovo cannot have died out for ever/^ '■' Sometimes^ Mab^ I think that luad passion that made such delirious rapture for us long- ago was not love, but fulness of life — youths inexperience, and natural sympathy for each other. True lovo laughs at death. It is eternal happiness or eternal pain to its possessor. That is how I feel about Jean.'' " Heaven pity me ! That is how I feel about you. Don't despise me, Paul ! Eemember, if I degrade my womanhood, you taught me to love you, and yuu alone !" Paul sighed, and pressed her hands tenderly. it unmanned him to see her so moved out of herself. • This queen of pleasure, this butterfly of society, could feel deeply, truly, as the best and purest of her sex. How he wished Jean had been as loving and forgiving ! To end an unhappy scene, he said wearily : " Let the dead past bury its dead, dear; it is beyond- retrieving novr. Do not let us quarrel to-night. Sing to me, and forget, if you can, that truth has compelled me to speak harsh things to you, who deserve only good at my hands. God bless you, dear ! The time \\ill come v/heu you Avill thank me for trying to de- stroy an illusion that might cost you dear. Sing t-j me, sweetheart, sitting there in the hrelight. Let mo keep a pleasant picture of you in my mind. Never mind music j your voice is music enough for mc. Sing, and let your song ease our hearts.^' Satanella locked her hands over her knees, and rocking herself backwards and forwards, like one in pain, sang a wild sweet melody. Satanella's weird melody died away like the sigh of a lost soul, and she sat silent seeing visions in the fire, her great green-grey eyes gloomed by an awful pain and jiassion that Avas half anger. Why should Jean have all Paul's Ionc and cast it from her as a useless weed, Avhile to her it would be as a flower of Paradise, to be placed deep in her heart and live while her eoul had life ;; ~=^ 846 BONNIE JEAN ; OK^ THE POWER OP LOVE. She would not despair, her love should triumph over all obstacles ; Paul should be won afresh, or her beauty had lost its spell ; her power to cast a glamour of passion over the heart of a man had never failed before. With a sobbing sigh she threw herself on Paul's breast, saying in passionate abandon : "Hate me if you will, but hate cannot kill love, and I only live to love you ! Spurn me from you, and my heart shall cling to you as to the light of life.'^ Her dewy lips were pressed to Paul's, her heart beat like an imprisoned bird. Paul put her from him with a shuddering sigh, saying : "You try me too much, Mabel; I am but mortal. Leave me while I respect myself and you.'"' Stung by the severity and reproach of his voice, Satanella hid her face in her hands, and left the room, feeling as Eve felt when she said good-bye to Paradise Early in the morning she crept, white and chill, to Paul's bedside and kissed his sleeping face softly. Tears fell on the pale cheeks beneath her own. Paul woke with a start, and sat up saying ; " Why, what is the matter, Mab dear ? Can't you forgive me for the cruel kindness of last night ? " " Yes, dear , there is nothing I cannot forgive you. I came to say good-bye. Peter is waiting to take me to the station. Take care of yourself, and write to me often, there's a dear old man, and remember" — she held up a warning finger — "you must have complete tranquility; quiet and rest are the only things that can restore you. I shall forward only pleasant letters, business must wait; anything of real importance that may turn up you must get Peter to see to; he can obey orders — none better. Now, good-bye; try to think kindly of me while we are apart, and send at once if you have need of me : my life is dedicated to you," She drew Paul into her arms in silence, and held him 80 a second ; then, with a hasty kiss, departed and left Paul feeling very lonely, for love is a precious gift, even though it cannot be returned, and Satanella's love had havened Paul of late as happily as if it had been a heaven-sent gift, instead of the deadly curse it was. CHAPTER LVI. PI'jACEF UL pleasaut month passed at Luuli Doou did more to restore Paul tliau any- tliing else could liavo done. He was boginning to look quite himself through living in the pure sunny air of the mountains and hills and valle^-s, fishing in the tranquil streams^ shooting over the wide moor-j and resting- in the homely rooms of the cottage. Still Paul's dreams were all of Jeannie and hopes of a reunion. He had written part of a nev/ play^ read up lots of old authors^ and wasted not a moment of the goodly time of convalescence. He had follov/ed his doctor^s directions^ and allowed business to slide for a time^ and felt all the brighter and better for doing so. His mind was now clear, his health almost restored to its old manly vigour. Hope returned v/ith his newly- born spirit — hoDo and faith in himself^ and the powor of his great love. Mrs. Prior and he grew to be great chums j he liked the blunt, handsome old woman and her motherly ways, that made a home oi; this strange abode, and created comfort, as only a womanly woman can. He was grateful to Mabel for finding him such a nurse. Mabel had written daily, bright, chatty, loving letter^., that wore very pleasant to receive in that out-of-tht- world spot. Paul began to hope she was getting over the mad pas- sionate love his illness and lielplessness had aroui-edinto now Hie. Paul, feeling su well, spoke of returning to town and his many dutie'j. This brought a huap of good advice en his head. -^ 348 BONNIE JEAN ; Merrick implored him to complete the plot and prin- cipal part of the new play, so that he could fill it in at his leisure; reminded him of his many engagements, and the little time they left for literary labour ; asked to be allowed to bring Sophy to see him, and let them both benefit by the change for a few days. Satanella wrote to say she insisted upon him staying till she had leisure to come for a few days with his other friends^ to make holiday in the Highlands. Mrs. Prior said that if he went back too soon, he would be as bad as ever in a week. His doctor urged him to remain a little longer an exile from business and work ; and Paul, prevailed upon by all these appeals, agreed to stop, and return with the Meri-icks and Satanella; and while he liugered in tlu Highlands, leaving others to transact his business, fate, in the shape of the law, was working against hira, Jean^s case was clearly made out, and no question of the result troubled the man who hoped to free her from her cruel bondage, to leave her at liberty to forge new fetters. Satanella was beginning to feel nervous about the part she had played ; she feared Paul would not forgive her; yet she knew she would be happier, even if he did cherish an offence against her, than if he still clung to the idea of a reconciliation with Jean. It was a glorious day in the Highlands, the rarified air made everything bright and clear, as Paul waited on the platform of the rustic station to receive his friends the Merricks. Paul was feeling quite his own self again, thanks to the clever nursing of Mrs. Prior, and the life of ease and liberty he had led since he left town. His face was brown, his eyes bright, his step had all the elasticity of youth; his spirits had revived, too, and he felt equal to anything. Sophy looked anxiously into his eyes as he shook hands, and saw no shadow in their smiling light. "Well, you have made wonderful progress, old man, you look better than you have done for years ; you must R s?— ^ ORj THE POWER OP LOVE. 849 not be allowed to skulk much longer. Wc must take you back to work." " Ab, work will be welcome, but I have not been idle, I can assure you ; my publisher will tell jou I have made good use of my leisure. I have not read a business letter or troubled at all about the outer world; time enough to take up its burden when I leave this haven of rest." "Have you bad any sport, Paul?" asked Mr. Merrick. " Yes, tolerably good ; the fishing has not been up to much, thanks to frequent storms, but shooting over the moors has been delightful. I thought Mabel was coming with you." " She was detained by business ; she said she would write and explain. She is not looking well; this legal business is awfully harassing." "What business ?" " Is it possible you do not know ? Well, you^ll get a letter to-night or to-morrow. I expected to see you in town; in fact, it has been a matter of huge surprise to many that you have not undertaken your own defence." "i^ 51 -^^ — -, « CnAPTEii LVli. JEANNIE sat in the pretty blue and gold drawing - room at . Eegent's Park witli Lawyer Dove ', they had been engaged in a rather stormy dispute about the case now comiDg on in the Divorce Court. The usually mild-looking little lawyer was looking hot and worried, and he drank his claret quitj savagely, as he said for his part he hated the whole business, and regretted it for little Pridie^s sake. "Your money is tied up hrmly; you are free to live your ov/n life. You have your boy to lo7e, and a hundred duties to employ your time." Jean coloured hotly, and toying with a bunch of purple heartsease, said nervously : "But I am over young to have lived my life; otlier love may come to me. Would you have me live alone for ever ? " '• My dear child, is it possible you have already found some new interest, formed some new tie ? '' " It is possible." •' Ah, inconstancy, thy name is woman. I thought you loved your husband." " So I do v/ith the best love of my heart ; but I want to forgot him. He does not deserve my faith or aifection ; he has no regard for mo. I am iu his way — stand between him and happiness with another. I want to think of him as one dead, gone out of my life for ever." "And you are still firm in your refusal to see him ? " "I am still firm; I feel it is best, for I know uiy own weakness and. the power of my love." "And this new lover Avho is to briug your Kors heart ■'=uch wondrous healins' is ? " J^ ^ BONNIE JEAN ; OR^ THE POWER OF LOVE. 851 " The Duke of Ormsby." "Ah, I see society has set its seal upon you. You have grown ambitious." " I have grown wise ; I know the false from the true. I leave my case in your hands ; fight for me with all your might, spare no expense, only win me my freedom, and my everlasting gratitude is yours." " And will you have courage enough to face this matter publicly, child ? It will be a hard trial. I see no danger of your losing the case, the evidence is too strong against your husband. Lady Dandergard^s confession seems trustworthy ; a woman would hardly stoop to blacken her own good name for spite. The landlady is a strong witness, too, and even the valet, Peter, all condemn the man. Then the plea of cruelty, which is a mere form, seems strong enough; you can swear he tried to endanger your life during your ill- ness. I suppose you mean by undue excitement, and keeping his mistress constantly in your sight ? ^ '' I do not wish to say what the cruelty consisted of if I can avoid it, it were too black a sin against him. I do not wish to injure his character more than I can help." " And you are willing to meet him in court ? " "I am willing to undergo any indignity that will bring me the reward of freedom." " Well, I think there is no more to be said." Mr. Dove sorted a heap of papers, took a few notes, drank another glass of claret, and departed, leaving Jean a prey to much anxious thought. The last few days had been full of excitement and hard work. She had, her counsel said, clearly established her case in his eyes; he saw no question of fear of failure. The witnesses for the prosecution were unimpeach- able. Paul seemed to have no shadow of dependable defence ; the case was to come on in a few days, and BO far as one could see now, promised to go unde- fended. ^ ^?^ my' 352 BONNIE JEAN ; \\ hull tlio trial came on Jean felt her heart fail her ; hho had never been in a court of law^ and the publicity Beared her^ yet she determined to hear her joarL lj]-avel_y. I'aui, to the disgust of Satanella.^ turned up in luwu ill time to defend his case himself. He was in a state of great indignation and excite- ment. He tried to compromise the matter with Jean's lawyer, tried to see Jean, but she avoided him, and he, like a man distracted, flew from his home to his laAvyer, and exerted all hi.s ])ov/er to prevent the day going :igainst him. I'o his horror he found Satanella, his valet, friends, etc., all retained on the other side^, and with the courage of desperation determined to face it out alone, trusting- to justice and right to protect him from defeat. He employed a good counsel, and on the day of the trial appeared firm and determined at the Divorce Court. The court rvas crov/ded. The counsel for the peti- tioner made a splendid speech, detailing a harrowing history of domestic misery and disloyalty. Satanella was called to give evidence criminating botli to herself and Paul. She gave one entreating glance at the anxiouL'. haggard face of the defendant, then in a clear calm voice, v/ith an ap]3earance of proud self-scorn, said she had been seduced by Paul years before, borne him a child, and loved him faithfully ; but that, tempted by the wealth of Jean, he had forsaken her, but never really discontinued the iutimac_y ; SAvore he had met her by appointment at Brighton during' his honeymoon, and also had stayed at her house all one night a year before, and had taken her to his home against the desire of his wife, and after that had, during his ill- ness, allowed her to pass as his wife at his chambeiv;, and had accompanied her to Scotland. ■^riie landlady and valet were called to bear out her f:tatenlen{^, and Jean was with great consideration allovred tu make but a very brief statement. ^ -^ ORj 'ini; rowEE op love. 853 bo far all was in her favour. PauFs despairing yearning eyes were fixeJ reproach^ fully upon her. The sight of him^ haggard and aged by misery and sickness, stirred a strange excitement in Jeaunie's tender loving heart. She was taken into the air in a fainting condition, but quickly recovering, insisted upon returning to the court, where she sat more like a statue than a living suffering woman till the end of the trial. Paul denied the charge v/ith earnestness and sin- cerity ; confessed he had known Satanella as a lover before his marriage j but called God to witness that he had. faithfully kept his mai'riage-vows in face of fierce temptation, injustice, and provocation. So eloquent was his defence, that Joan felt her heart throb with wild excitement. He swore there had been no more than friendship between him and Satanella since his marriage, and, to the surprise of Jean, called Lady Dandergard's mother to bear out his story, especially regarding his trip to the Highlands. Satanella's face changed as Mrs. Prior rose in the Witness-box, her handsome old face stern and full of contempt and condemnation for her only child. She stated she was a decent married v/oman, who kept a general-shop at Reading, and that foolishly she had years before married a no^er-do-well, a handsome idle acrobat, who had been a source of trouble to her ever since their marriage till when their daughter Mary was seventeen, when he had met with an injury to his back, and became a helj^less cripple. This daughter Mary, it seems, had been an endless source of anxiety to her mother, who set her face against her taking part in any public performance. Mary, or Molly, as the old woman called her, hafl been a vain idle girl, greatly given to flirtation. She had got into disgrace Avith a cousin, a certain '1 oni Creody, a small farmer, and, Avheu her mother dis- covered the connection, had refused to be made an honest woman by marriage; had formed a fresh attach- -^ 354 BONNIE JEAN; ment to a showy circus-manager, and, to get tlie money to follow him to London, stole her father's silver prize shooting cup, for which her mother administered a sound thrashing. That night Molly had stolen away, and her mother had seen no more of her till she came one winter night and left her new-born child to her mother's care, and slipped away again to her efay London life. Little Tom had found a good home with his grand- parents, and was dearly loved by his father, Molly's cousin, Tom Greedy. Then she had been lost sight of till Paul Martinet's illness, when she wrote an imploring letter for her mother to meet her in Scotland and take care of her dearest friend. The old lady swore no Avrong had been committed in the Highlands ; her daughter had slept in her room, and she had overheard Paul swear the old intimacy should never be resumed, saying he respected and loved his wife too well. She also stated that Satanella had tried to keep Paul from attending the trial, and had told her mother she meant to move heaven and earth to free him from his first marriage, sure that he would return to her if once legally freed from his wife. She spoke highly of Paul, and declared her firm belief in his innocence of the charges her daughter had brought against him, emphatically denying little Tom to be his son. An evil look darkened Satanella's white face; she feared she had condemned herself in vaiu. Paul's con- temptuous looks cut her to the quick. Then Dr. John Granger appeared and stated Paul's denial of blame, or reasons for his wife's leaving him, and denied the cruelty with which Paul was charged,' Jean's counsel contending that he had endangered her life in France by his outrageous treatment of her on the open sea. John explained how Paul had risked his life for her, and also saved her from dishonour brought on by her own indiscretion at Claremont, n- OR, THE POWER OF LOVK. 355 Public favour was veering towards Paul, but circum- stantial evidence proved too strong; the judge, in his summing-up, described it as a romantic but heart-break- ing case, and gave judgment in favour of the petitioner, granting a decree nisi with costs. Paul tried to protest against the judgment, but fc U forward with a groan, a thin stream of blood flowing from his white lips; his excitement had caused him to break a blood-vessel. Jean hid her face in her hands -with a cry of horror, and was hurried out of court by her friend, Lady Con- stance Culmore ; Mrs. Prior and Dr. John taking Prail into their custody. It was a painful scene, and Jeannie, in spite of getting that which is so dear to a woman — her own way — felt full of remorse and misery beyond earthly comfort, fur the sight of Paul had revived the old love. Dr. John, when Paul was slightly recovered, moved him down to his pretty home, and put him under Hagar's care, comforting him with the reminder that he could move for a new trial before the affair should be finally settled. -<^^ ^ ^ ^/? CHAPTER LYIII. DEN in miud aiid body, dispirited^ miserablej and filled witli an unreasoning sensation of remorse, Jean retired to the seclusion or Deepdane, and shut herself up with her sorrow, refusing to see anyone hut her friends the Brassys, who, though they pitied her pro- foundly, loaned to Paul's side, rightly judging him more sinned against than sinning, deciding that Lady Dan- r]oi"gard had borne false witness for her own ends, and if she could accuse him falsely about her child, she could accuse him falsely about other things. Jean tried to interest herself about home matters, increased her attention to the poor, and for some time lived an uneventful outwardly peaceful life, devoting- laerself to her child, and trying hard to stifle the vain regret she felt for her ruined happiness. Hagar wi"ote long tender letters, full of sympathy and belief in Paul. Jean read them tearfully, but answered coldly that she wished never to be reminded of the past, or her connection with one to unworthy, and Hagar, out of patience with her, ceased to write. Jean felt her deser- tion keenly, but she was too proud to complain, and determined to shnke off her depression and try to find content, if not happiness, in life. The Duke of Ormsby wrote her beautiful letters full of love and hope, and Lady Culmore offered to come and enliven her solitude by her bright presence. Jean, tired of the dulness of her almost deserted liouse, wrote a warm welcome, and in answer to it came Lady Culmore in person, determined to rouse and refresli Jean by reviving her interest in the great world. Her brother, the duke, had seen her off, charging her with all sorts of kind messasres to Jean. ^ m -^, BONNIE jean; or, THE POWER OP LOVE. 357 ''Tell lier I bitlo ray time, full of love and liopo, aud that if it were not for feai* of compromising lier in sight of the world, I shonld have sought hor long since; hut her honour is as dear as my own, no shadow must rest upon the future Duchess of Ormsby. I shall steal a few hours, by her permission, to visit her in private ; you must appoint the time, and bo sui-e that no one elst^ is there/' When Lady Culraore gave Jean her brother's message they were taking tea together in a quaint little parlour Joan had loved as a child ; it was commonly called the ' mnsic-room, because it was full of musical instruments, and so arranged as to be suitable for music and singing; it opened out on the lawn by Rtained glass doors, and commanded a fine view of the park and an ornamental lake that was spanned by a rustic bridge that led to one of the lodge- gates. Jean sighed as Lady Culmore sipped her tea, and, .playing with the azure ribbons of her pretty quaint tea-gown, said : " The duke is most kind and considerate ; I wish I could reward him by a Avarmer regard. Of course [ shall be pleased to see him any day he likes to appoint ; tell him so, with ray kind love." " I warn you, dear petite dame/' said Lady CulmorG, shaking a jewelled finger playfully at Jean, '"'that you are too meek; men must be treated independently^ they are all upstarts and tyrants if allowed to get the upper hand of a woman. Take Ormsby's homage as your due ; do not allow him to feel sure of you. He loves his little Lady Disdain, and I am sure would feel disappointed to find her changed into a jiatient Griseldn ; he knows you are " Beautiful, therefore to be wooed, A woman, therefore to be won. ]\[en like the wooing to bo difficult ; a tame courtship means a dull honeymoon, an indifferent husband, and domestic discontent. To make a man a lover all his life the wife should be bright, independent, full of little tricks to keep his interest alive ; nothing is half so tamo -m 358 BONNIE JEAN; in life as the sweets of mai-riage if never enlivened by change. A wife must be to ber husband : " Sometiinos his pest, sometimes liis darliiii^', To-day loving, to-morrow snarlino*. 1 led my poor old man an awful life, but he liked it and was happy, for all my tricks were but trials of love, and we lived together v>4thout a dull day, devoid of dis- content or jealousy. We were happy as I hope you will be, dear. I want to see you cheer up and be our own Bonnie Jean again." She drew Jeannie down and kissed her fondly. Jean looked beyond at the emerald-green lawn, and said with a smile : '^Here comes Mr. Brassy in a great hurry. How hot he looks ! Poor man ! " She ran out to meet him ; the lace flounces of her dress, caught back by the light breeze, displayed feet that would not shame a fairy. Mr. Brassy took both her hands in his, and said nervously : "I came to ask a favour, dear little girl. It is that you give the vacant situation of lodge-keeper to a young friend of mine who is studying hard, yet cannot afford to devote all his time to his favourite pursuit. He is poor, and anxious to increase' his income by some light duties, and as I am directing his studies, I should like to keep him under my eye. I was afraid if I did not bother you at once you might promise the post to some- one else, and it is such a pretty cottage, I should begrudge it to a stranger/' " Can your man assist the gamekeepers if it in necessary ? And is he single ? I should not like a swarm of children about the place." " He is quite alone, and would hire a woman from the village, as poor old Grant did, to do his domestic work. Suppose you agree to try him ? I will see to all arrangements for you, and really I should feel obliged." " Certainly there can be no harm in trying your prott'ge. You seem worried; is there anything fresh in the villa?- 0K_, THE POWEE OF LOVE. 867 Oil wife, wife 1 if you could only read my heart aright, all might yet be well. * She kept the flowers our baby took her — if she could have kaown I kissed them, every one, before I sent them ! Ah, and she cannot shut me out of her heart, though she has driven me from her side. My darling ! my own Bonnie Jean^ I will win you yetl- , 6-) (2/ s^- -^ CHAPTER LIX; jHE shadow of a man lay ou the moonlit walk, outside the music-room j lie stood by the wall listening to Jeannie siugino-. Her voice was sadly sweet as slie sang of golden days, now long past for her. " Ah, but tlie days brought changes after Clouds in the happy sky, Pain to the lips that curled with laughter, Tears to the radiant eye. Parted asundei-, worn with grieving; Wearily each one prays. Oh, for the days, beyond retrieving, Oh, for the golden days ! " And Paul felt the echo of that miserable remorse in his heart; yet he felt he had not deserved his fate. He had acted no worse than other young men who never look to the future, and give way to a woman's witchery • but the woman under whose spell he had lain so lonc^ was worse than other women, and when the time came to lead a better, nobler, higher existence, she had stood between him and happiness, a mocking love-light in her eyes, a light that sought to lure him on 1o deeper degradation. ^ To love Satanella had seemed like selling one's soul to the Evil One ; yet time had been v/hen ho had huo-o'cd the chains that bound him in sinful bondage ; but^that was long ago, before a purer iafluence like Heaven's own breath had blown away the murk of a misspent passion and taught him what beauty a pure life can contain. Tears of bitter regret came unbidden to his eyes, aud he did not feel that they shamed his manhood. As he walks miserably away to his lonely rooms savagely telling himself he is a fool to be perpetually looking back at his lost Paradise, he wonders whv he "^^ E» BONNIE JEAN; OE^ THE PO^ER OP LOVE. 369 stays buried alive^ as it were — wonders what good ho can do ; yet to be near his wife is bliss indeed. Yet has not the just law of his country freed her from her fetters ? She is^ after all, no wife of his ; but he feels it is not in the power of human law to sever those who have been bound by pure bonds of love and sympathy. " Oh^ if she had but believed in my love ! " Paul groaned^ as he sat down in his dark little parlour, hiding his face in his hands. Alone — all alone for evermore unless he could win his darling to love him afresh ! But what chance had ho against her noble suitor ? Could he draw her to him by the power of love alone ? Would the golden days ever dawn again for them? Who could say? . His loiieliness weighed him down, yet he had no desire-- to leave it for the gay life of the city. His Avork. could not content him while his heart still bled over his wronu'S. .-. '.; .'If he had sinned he had suffered — hoAV intensely only he knew. His marriage with Jean had b.een a miserable mistake from beginning to end. Both had played at cross-purposes, and Satanella, like a spirit of evil, had been ever at hand to sow seeds of mistrust and jealousy. He fancied he had done with his evil genius, as he called Satanella; he had yet to learn how hard it is to free oneself from such a tenacious hold as hers. She had ruined herself for his sake. Henceforth her name would be held one of infamy. She had risked her all and lost. .In vain, with desperate courage, she faced the public vt'hose idol she had been.- . . ■ . Her reign was over. The crown of homage her beauty and genius had won was wrenched from her ; she v/as dethroned ; the no longer queened it in the hearts of the people. Ife- ^- 370 BONNIE JEAN; Hissed off the stage, she crept to her grand home, and in loneliness and despair hid herself like a stricken thing. Her brave old mother came to her to try and comfort her, but in vain ; she had but one interest in life, and that interest was centred in Paul ; until she had won his forgiveness she refused to be comforted. " Go to him, mother, plead for me as for my life, for I cannot live without his love. I shall go mad or die if this misery continues much longer." Satanella, wild and haggard, stood in her beautiful chamber, her great steely eyes blazing with inward fever. Her mother had been trying to coax her to go to rest, but she had scorned the word, saying there would be time enough to rest when her heart had ceased to beat. She refused food, shut herself up in her room, and would not see anyone but her mother, whose maternal tenderness had rerurned with MabePs need. She was her only child, and after all blood is thicker than water. The honest old soul was grieved beyond expression by the mad passion that threatened Satanella^s reason. Surely, she thought, Paul must relent; he could not be so cruel as to let her die for love of him. " If you will promise to keep quiet till I return, and try to rest, I will go to Mr. Merrick and get Mr. Martinet's address. I believe he has left town, but I will follow him, and if a mother's voice has power to plead better than another, I shall win him over. Only try to keep calm, dearie, and remember there is One above whose pardon is dearer than the love of man." Satanella laughed that low soft laugh so full of mockery that beyond all other sounds was hard to her mother to hear. Bettor her wildest sobs or heaviest groans, for they told of human feeling, and this bitter mockeiy of laughter seemed tlia mirth of a lost soul. To please her mother Mabel got to bed, and promised to keep quiet until her return. She even drank some wine and ate a piece of bread, and Mrs. Prior, with tears in her old eyes, went to Mr. Merrick's house. FP' OEj THE rOWEE OF LOTE. 371 He had a supper-party on_, and at tirst refused to see the old lady_, but a pleading look from Sophy softened him. /• Send Mrs. Prior to my study, and say I will be with her in a few moments"; then with a brief apology he followed the servant. Mrs. Prior stood by the window, her upright form and white hair making her look a commanding hgure. Mr. Merrick placed a chair for her by the table, then sat down, saying : " Well, what can I do for you, ma'am ? " "Nothing for me, sir. I came on my daughter's behalf; she is very ill, and desires, above all things, to see Mr. Martinet. Will you tell me where I can hud him? Believe me, I would not ask, did I not believe it a matter of life and death to my daughter. .For my part, I shoiild^ be glad never to hear his name again." Mr. Merrick rufSed his hair, and v/ith a perplexed look, said : " 'Pon iuy soul, I am very sorry to refuse you any- thing, but i pledged ruy word of honour not to give my friend's address to anyone. He has been cruelly used, ma'am ; he deserves our first consideration. Your daughter's behaviour has been bitterly bad from beginning to end. And I canuot see Avhat g•^od can come of your s^-eing Paul ; he will never consent to see Lady Dandergard, and no one can blame him; she has ruined his life. " He swore to me,'' continued Mr. Merrick, '' she had been no more to him than a friend since the day he married, and I believe him. Surely he has suffered enough. He is ill, too, in mind and body, and quite unfit to bear excitement of any kind. Really, I feel I must refuse ; friendship is a sacred thing, and Paul aud I are friends of long s.tanding ; I cannot lose him for a. woman's cruel caprice.. I wish you had not asked me— indeed I do, for I respect and pity you, ma'am^ from the bottom of my heart, and it goes against my inclination to seem insensible to your appeal. Is Saianella really ill, or is it but another of her evil tricks ? " i$ S72 BONNIE JEANj '' She is ill — very ill^ I assure you ; she cannot deceive her mother. I came herej moved by pity for her, which even you, who so justly condemn her, would share if you could see her sufferings. I fear for her reason, she is like a woman gone mad with misery. Oh, surely in hi 5 heart of hearts, Mr. Martinet must feel some mercy, for, after all, she sinned for love of him." " You do not know Paul ; he is a queer fellow, tender as a woman — soft, yielding, gentle, till he is turned against anyone ; then, when he is angered, he is hard as flint, firm as a rock, he will hear neither argument nor reason; and he is very bitter against Satanella. She befooled him so long that now she is unmasked he flies from her as from a pestilence — so should I." "But I assure you he shall not see Lady Dandergard unless he likes ; it is I who wish to see him. I have never Wronged him; on the contrary, I have tried to befriend him, even though I had to expose my own child to do so, I am sure he would not refuse to see me. Give me his address; I promise you faithfully I will keep it from my daughter unless ho gives me per- mission to tell her," Mr. Merrick reflected a second ; then, as usual, left the burden of the decision to his wife, saying : " I will consult Mrs, Merrick ; if you will wait a second she shall come to you." He left the room, sought Sophy, explained the situa- tion, asked her advice. Sophy at once said : " Give the address to the old woman; she has been very good to Paul, he cannot object to seeing her. I will see her and make her promise not to let anyone know of Paul's whereabouts." Sophy went at once to the room where Mrs. Prior waited, made her drink some wine, explained how Paul had prevailed upon Mr. Brassy to get the situation of gate-keeper at Deepdane for him, told her of his de- &ponding ill-health and hard work ; pointed out the cruelty of disturbing him ; then after Mrs. Prior had pledged her word not to divulge the secret of Paul's hiding-place, directed her how best to get to him, ^- -_-^__. __«^ OE, THE POWER OF LOVE. 873 cautioned her about not letting anyone recop^nise her, and sent the old lady off quite content with her work. and hugely taken with kind-hearted Sophy. Satanella was sitting up in bed, two fever-spots glowing in her transparent cheeks ; her eyes shone like stars. " You know where to find Paul — I see it in your face, mother. Tell rae quickly^ where is he ? '' "A long way from here, my girl, and I have given my word not to tell you his address ; but I will go to him to-morrow, and try to make him come back to you. Try to rest ; I wish you would have a doctor.'^ " I do not Avant doctoring ; I want peace of mind and happiness. Get to bed, mother ; you look fagged out. I will see you before you start. Nov,- send my maid to me, I am so tired. ^^ Glad to get away to rest and think, Mrs. Prior went to her room after sending Satanella' s maid to her. She was a keen-witted, bright-eyed, little French- woman, this maid of Lady Dandergard, by name Madame Blanche ; she liked her mistress, valued her place, which was a good one^ and would do anything to serve Satanella. "" Blanche, I want you to follow my mother to-morrow to the station, find out where she books for, and return post-haste to me. You must be cautious ; if she sees you I shall not discover what I wish very much to know. Get ready a few things for me, and some dark clothes, a thick veil, and a neat bonnet. I mean to follow my mother without loss of time." '' Tras hien, madame, but I fear you will overtax your strength; you are ill, you should value yourself. Come to sunny France, and forget the scorn of these cold English. In Paris you would be a queen ; here you are an exile." ••'Ah, Blanche, some day I will go with you to your beloved land, but not till I am happy; sunshine and brightness are not for the broken-hearted. Get me Bome wine and leave me ; I want rest — only rest can restore me.'* S?^-==-. CHAPTER LX. ^RKe' 14 1 i 8 ^g m SOFT rain was falling on meadow and hill, refreshing trees and flowers, on the pretty lodge with its jasmine-blossom embowering the walls and peeping in ab the windows. At the gates, Deepdane looked a pleasant retreat to the tired old woman who had tramped along in the rain from the village. A beautiful rainbow arched the clear blue heaven, and dipped down behind a green hill. . So peaceful and beautiful was the sceue, that Mrs. Prior drended to spuil the peace it brought by breaking in upon the sobt'ude of the man to whom her daughter had brought so much misery. ... • . . ...... ■ .Paul was alone in his .little" sittihg-i*6om resting froiti a hard day^s work. A pile of ihauuscript lay befbrS hini, showing the day's labour had been a prosperous one. A little black teapot on a tray stood by his elbow,! s.ome slices of plain cake, and a jug of rich cream. . ■ There was a look of rest and satisfaction on Paul's face that recalled his own bright look through the dark disguise that disfigured his handsome face; no one would have recognised him as the bloude actor whose classical beauty was perfect as that of a Greek god. .. Illness had made him lauk, lean, and hollow-eyed; his skin was stained a dark olive; black hair hid hi;^ broad forehead ; and he walked with the heavy slouch- ing gait of one who has laboured for a living. A perfect actor was Paul, and he seemed to have dwarfed his nobility, to fit -the part, he chose to play, so that he might, unseen^ unsuspected, keep. watch and \Yard over' his best beloved. " ..',."" He dared not look ahead. He.had.no hope to chaugu, his loneliness into happiness. Some instinct had madu' him seek this solitary life. f OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 879 But she reasoned witli lierself that it must be one of the maids, and the resemblance wholly fanciful. The music had filled her mind with thoughts of her ; the air was charged with electricity ; and Jean felt strung up, as it were, to a state of feverish unrest and intense excitement. She was glad when it was time to retire. The duke lingered over the good-night, and said yearningly : " Jeannie, dear, I know you are either ill or unhappy. Can't I help you, dear ? Would it not ease you to speak of your trouble ? " "No, no, I am well enough; don't notice me,^' she answered impatiently, looking down at the strong manly hands that held hers so tenderly. Before she could stop him, he had drawn her into his arms, and kissed her passionately ; then releasing her Avith a sigh, he left her trembling in every limb. That kiss awoke a great revolt in Jean ; if a simple kiss could be so repugnant to her_, how could she be his wife. Yet he loved her and was worthy of her love, and she had promised. Upset and worried, she went to her room and said to her maid : " Go and ask Mrs. Large to attend to me to-night ; I am not feeling well." " If you please, ma'am, Mrs. Large has gone to bed very ill with rheumatism." " Has she ? I am sorry ; do not disturb her then ; I am only a little over-tired with the heat. Do not men- tion it, it is not of any consequence ; I shall be all right in the morning. You need not wait; I shall not need you again to-night." Left alone, Jean, divesting herself of her dress, and baring her little feet, threw herself on her bed ; she felt tired, and hot, and uneasy, fearing that her old habit of sleep-walking would return. She remembered that she had often walked after feeling these fits of restlessness ; she knew she ought to shut and lock both window and door, but felt she could not endure the heat if she did so. There seemed not a breath of air, and every now 380 EONNIE JEAN; and then tliere sounded a distant rumbling of thunder. After a time, just as she had decided she must really undress and go to sleep, her ejes closed in deep troubled slumber; the first drop of rain fell upon the window- pane. * Paul, in his shirt-sleeves, sittiug by the back door, smoking", and drinking- good old ale, felt the rain splash doAvu oil his bare head, but did not attempt to seek shelter ; like the Howers, he felt thirsty for the rain, he felt a good soaking would do him good — cool his parched skin and heated brain. He felt wretched, had tried to study, but was too restless. In his little sitting-room his lamp burnt brightly and his book lay ready to his hand, but his mind and heart were too full to allow him to calmly lay his troubles ar-iclc to study. He felt in the fullest sense in sympathy with the ele- ments ; he had been sullen, gloomy, stupid, and idle, and now wanted to tear and storm and relieve his mad vrretchedness in a hurricane of emotion. He felt fiercely elated when the first forked flash rent apart the storm-clouds, and the thunder delighted him, for it found an echo in his heart. He got up and went down the garden-path to a gate that led into the park. The trees shivered under the heavy downpour, the flowers hung their heads like down- trodden beauties; but Paul's eyes looked heavenward, and his pulse throbbed with the wild fury of the storm. Oh, to be but the breath of the tempest, that he might fly away when his rage was spent, and die on the heart of the gale ! At the gate he paused, blinded by a fearful flash; as he leant on the gate in the intense darkness, he heard hurried breathing- and felt two cold damp hands laid on his bare arm. He shrank back with an exclamation of surprise ; then as the lightning flashed out again, discovering the wild white face of Satan ella, he shook her off roughly, saying: -a -^ OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 381 " What derilisli influence lias bronglit you here ' Your illness, I see, was but a blind. Has that old woman, your mother, betrayed me ? " "No, I followed her; I could not rest without seeing- you. Oh, Paul, for pity's sake say a kind word to me ! I am half mad with misery. I shall die if you are not kind to me. I cannot live without your love, Paul." She bent her head over his bare arms, and kissed them with hot dry lips. He shook her roughly aside, saying in a voice hoarse with emotion : " Don't touch me, I loathe the sight of you ! " Do yon not understand there cannot be eren friendship between us ? You have wronged me horribly ; I can never f oro-et or forgive you. I will not have my steps dogged by you. If I cannot get rid of you any other way, I'll appeal to the law. By Heaven, I wonder I do not kill you ! You deserve nothing less at my hands." ''Kill me ! It were kinder far than to refuse me for- giveness. Oh, Paul, Paul ! cannot you understand the power of love that drew me on to do you wrono- ? I thought my love, the whole devotion of my life, would excuse me. No other woman will ever love you as I love you ! " " For which I am profoundly grateful, I can assure you. A second edition of such devotion as yours would about settle a -fellow. What is your motive in hunting me down like this ? " '' Oh, how cruel you are ! Have I not told you ? I crawled here in my misery to die at your feet, or live in your arms. You had a kind heart once, Paul ; surely there is a soft spot in it somewhere for me ? Think of the happy times we have spent together. Think how I have lost the Avorld to win you back." " By treachery such as only a fiend could practice ! By black deceit and cruel fraud you have lost me all that made life worth living — my home, my wife, my child, the good opinion of honest men, the trust of a good woman." They had been speaking quioldy"in the lull of the storm; now the tempest increased, a hurricane-wmd ^ ■882 BONNIE JEAN; tore up young saplings, and thunder roared like a lion above the raging wind. Satanella, weak and ill, swayed and would have fallen had not the gate been near enough for her to cling to. Paul saw her trembling, beaten down by the storm, without compassion. To him she seemed an unsexed thing, a creature too vile for pity. " Let me come in and rest, Paul ; I am afraid of the thunder, and see — the lightning is blinding ! " " The fury of the storm is less deadly than my hate. Why should I shelter you that you should again compromise me ? "What pity have you shown me that I should compassionate your fear ? I wonder that out- raged Heaven does not lodge a thunderbolt in your heart.'' '' Paul, Paul, you would not drive a dog from your door in such a storm as this ! I only ask for a cup oi water and a chair to rest on ; if you drive me away, I shall die by the roadside." "A suitable grave for such a shameless thing." " Oh, where is your manhood, your humanity ? " " Dead, dead — killed by your treachery and the wrong you have brought upon me." His voice was drowned in a tremendous peal of thunder. Satanella hid her face in her hands, afraid of the lightning that was not more fierce than the glare of Paul's furious eyes ; he seemed possessed by a demon of cruelty. Mabel's illness and fatigue did not appeal to him ; he felt he could see her drop dead at his feet without com- passion. Hatred of her filled his heart with evil ; never in all his young life had he felt as he now felt for mortal being. He shuddered at himself. Satanella felt the change in him — the instincts of love are keen ; she felt despair, hopelessness, and a certain sense of defeat chill her to the soul; for the first time she realised the folly of her sin against him, and knew that love for her was dead in him for ever. >§— ^ ^ J^ -H OR, TUT. POWER op LOVE. 060 Tlie bitter knowledge came to hex- as suddenlr as the lightning flashed, showing the dark scene abont tlitm as in a vision. Giant ^ Despair with iron hand crushed out, hope for ever froni the' sinful soul of Satanella ; she longed to creep away like some wounded thing and die unseen, unpitied by the world that scorned her. She bowed her head before the storm, feeling for tho first time her littleness, hor helplessness. " Won't you say one kind word to me, Paul. It may be the last time we shall meet on earth." "I hope to God it will be ! I would not say a kind word to save you from madness ; only take your serpent soul out of my path for ever. You have been the curse of my manhood, the blight of my life, and heaven only knows how I loathe myself and you when I think of the past ! Go in darkness and danger, accursed as you are ; and never, if you value life, cross my path again. You have been false, cruel, pitiless as fate ; death were too swift and kind a punishment,'" Satanella bowed her head lower, and a groan of in- tense misery burst from her overcharged heart. She had hoped to move him to tenderness and compassion, had thought to coax him round by the syren charm of her beauty, her love, her fondness ; but it was not to be. The old, gentle, affectionate, easy-going Paul was dead ; in his place there existed this stern relentless man whose words were all bitterness, whose heart was all hatred; and in all the wide, wide world there was not a creature she could cling to, not a soul she loved, for she had crushed out all womanly affection, severed all tender ties of kindred, and was utterly alone now that this one madly cherished passion failed. Her love for Paul had been the motive-power of her life, and now he was for ever lost, life had lost all charm, and had suddenly become undesirable, unendurable.* Yet her own suffering did not arouse her sympathy for Jean. Jean still appeared to her to be the cause of all her suffering. Had she not stolen Paul's heart from her? and w^as not that a crime beyond pardon in her sight ? ■-=^ 384 BONNIE JEAN ; OEj THE POWER OP LOVE. Paul saw her stagger under his harsh words^ and creep away in the darkness^ howled over by the wind, beaten down by the pitiless rain, and her misery filled him with exultation. Suddenly an idea struck him. He had been mad to let her go ; he should have compelled her first to confess all her falsehood, to clear him in Jean's sight ; she alone could tell her of his innocence, prove his good faith, and he had driven her away, and perhaps, by doing so, had lost all chance of softening his wife's heart towards him. He swung out of the gate in eager pursuit ; the storm threw him back at every step, the rain blinded, the wind deafened him. Where could he go to find her ? Surely she would be lost in the darkness ? Die, perhaps, with her guilty soul still burdened by her un- acknowledged falsehood. Fool that he had been not to think of this sooner ! He struggled on madly, a fierce impatience urging him on through the mazy wood. "What a fearful night for a desperate despairing woman to be driven out from all earthly sympathy ! " thought he for the first time, as he paused in the blank darkness to brush the damp hair from his forehead, and to curse his stupidity and ill-luck. Jeannie slept calm as an infant through that terrible storm that ravaged the beautiful woods like a wild beast in search of prey. While she slept so calmly, little Pridie, whose night nursery adjoined his mother's room, roused out of his slumbers by the storm, began to cry bitterly. Felice, always a faithful watchful nurse, was quickly aroused, and took the child into her own bed to soothe him to sleep again. The sound of her child's crying crept into Jeannie's dreams, and disturbed without awaking her. She had a vague idea that her most cherished treasure was in some kind of peril, and, still dead asleep, rose from her bed and wandered aimlessly about her room. NOTICE-This Woik will be putUalied every Wednesday Order? ebonld l9 girea to yow BoolrseUer early. BONNIE JEA^. No. 17. ^p. 386 BONNIE JEAN ; The damp air blew in at the open window without awaking her; she seemed puzzled, and stood still a second, with the door in her hand, to listen. She fancied someone called her by nam.e — someone out in the open air. The voice came to her from the pretty bridge that spanned the lake, and she went slowly downstairs into the music-room, unbolted the glass doors, and went out into the storm ; the rain, the thunder, and the lightning all seeming part of her dream. Her fancy still echoed with that voice from the lake. Her scarce covered shoulders, thin white skirts, and dainty feet, were quickly covered with damp, but the night was hot, and the rain did not chill her. She knew every step of the way, asleep or awake, and in a short time stood on the rustic bridge. It seemed as if some evil fate had forced her to leave the shelter of her home this awful night to work out her destiny to the bitter end. Her little wet hp.nds clung to the rail for guidance ; the lightning lighted up her slowly-moviug figure in weird uncanny fashion. . Satanella met her thus on the bridge — Satanella, whose mad brain had hurried her here to seek shelter from the misery of living by finding a peaceful bed in the quiet waters of the lake. '' He told me to go to ni}' death, I will obey him ; since he can wish me dead, what wish have I for life ? " she had whispered to herself, while she struggled on through the storm, tottering at every step. A vivid flash of lightning made the scene light as day as she stepped on to the bridge, and saw gliding towards her, like a phantom, the slender shape of Bonnie Jean. The little drenched figure came to meet her with slow slumberous steps, and Satanella, frightened out of her self-absorbed grief, stood still, as if turned to stone. It seemed as if some pure spirit were sent to warn her against the unpardonable sin she contemplated. Then her shivering dread left her ; with superb self- scorn she stood still, right in the way of the shadowy form. s^_ ^ _ ^ OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 387 Again tlie blinding lightning flashed out full on Jean^s face, and Satanella, with exultant hate, recog- nised her rival. She understood it all at a glance ; Jean was a prey to her old complaint, somnambulism. Swift flashed the thought, all evil, to Mabel's mad- dened brain : Why should she die alone, and leave this woman to be happy in the love she longed for as the only good in life ? Why should she not drag her into the dark water with her, and so in death, as in life, rob Paul of his heart's desire ? No pity softened the cruel heart ; Jean's helplessness seemed only to incense her. Suppose Paul had met her instead, surely he would have snatched her to his heart, or led her home, like Undine, to be awakened by love, thought Satanella, her jealousy aroused by Jean's pure beauty. In a second a firm hold was laid on Joan's arm, and with a vigorous shake, Satanella awoke her, resolved on a double torture. She should not go to her fate un- prepared, she should know and feel her peril to the uttermost. She should first be tormented with a knowledge of all she had lost and was leaving, then go to her death wide-awake, and Satanella's vengeance would be com- plete. Never had she hated Jean more fiercely than she did now she knew how Paul had given all his heart to her. With a faint shivering cry, Jean awoke. " Who called me ? Where am I ? Oh, the awful thunder. Speak, I entreat. Who are you ? Oh, I am so afraid ! " Shivering with fear, hiding her eyes in her hands, Jean shrank back against the rails, the rain beating softly on her bare head, her damp tumbled hair falling about her, her little feet tottering. Oh, why was she here in this awful storm ? " Wake up, Jean ; it is I — Satanella. We have no time to lose ; we die to-night before the Btorm is spent. I want to tell you many things. Be calm ; there is no time to lose. How you shiver ? surely you are not Ms- 388 BONNIB JEAN5 afraid ? I thouglit it was only the wicked who feared deaths and see — I am calm." "I am not afraid/' said Jean; "at least, not afraid of yon * and the fury of the storm is already abating. I came here in my sleep prompted by an evil dream. I must get back ; I do not know what your wild words mean, there is nothing I wish to hear from you ; you ought to feel there can be no intercourse between us — thank God Ave are as wide apart, as the poles ! " " Yet we shall be close together in death ; death levels all distinctions." "Except that between good and evil/' answered Jean almost angrily, as she tried, in vain, to make Satanella's hold relax. " Listen to me, you poor fool/' said Mabel, holding her fast. " I came to tell you wonderful news. Your husband was true to you in word, and thought, and deed; he loved you alone in all the world, and even now is wearing out his heart with longing for you. I deceived you. I wanted to win him back! he was my lover long ago, and I loved him more than life; he would have married me then, only we were poor and both of us ambitious, and I knew marriage would mean misery for us both. Paul was good and honourable; he said good-bye to me as a lover when he promised to make you his wife ; it was my fault that even friendship continued. I would nob let him rest, I threatened to tell you of the past, and to save you pain he endured much. I do not spare myself, you see ; I want you to understand that I alone am to blame. When Duke died I was mad with envy of you ; I felt sure if Paul had been free I could have won him afresh, but in this I believe I was quite mistaken. I could not believe, you see, that he could love you, yet he did, how dearly you will never know, for you will never see him again in this world. The night he stayed at my house, the night of the fire, he was intoxicated and knew not what he did. I tried to persuade him he had sinned* against you, but he knew better. I forced myself into his home, mad with love and jealousy. I tried to poison you ; he knew nothing of it. The letter you read OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 389 referred to my gift to little Pridie ; you must remember the coral and bells I gave you tliat night when yoii told me Paul had sworn never to marry me." Jean remembered ; all semed clear as day now. Oh, how cruelly she had been befooled ! " Why tell me this now — why not have acknowledged your fiendish work before ? " '^Because, until to-night, I had hopes of winning Paul's forgiveness ; now I know 'tis hopeless, his love is yours alone ; and so I came to baulk him, for by Heaven you shall die with me to-nigh.t ! In the lake below there is a grave for both the loved wife and the despised mistress. Do not resist — I will force you to go with me ! " With a cry of horror, for Jean felt the cruel grasp tighten about her arms, Jean struggled to free herself from Satanella; but in vain, she held her as in a vice. The storm had ceased ; the darkness was terrible. Faint and sick with emotion, Jean fought for dear life, her great desire to live increased by Satanella"s words, which had been impressed on her heart and brain by the stamp of truth. She knew now how cruelly she had been deceived, and how unjust she had been to her husband. Oh, why had she not listened and believed him ? why had she taken this wicked woman's word against his oath, for he had svrorn he was innocent of the charge she brought against him ? And he had loved her — even in her dire extremity sbe was gladdened by the thought of Paul's love. Oh, that she could crawl to his feet and beg for pardon, and give herself to him again on his own conditions, if only to prove her love. She struggled with the frenzy of despair. Satanella's arms held her like serpent coils; escape seemed im- possible. The dark water of the swollen lake waited below for both ; only a slender rail stood between Jean and death ; even in the water, if she could free herself from this awful vice-like grasp, she could save herself, for, thanks to her lessons in France, she could swim well. ^ - ^ -^ 390 BONNIE JEAN; OE, THE FOWEE OF LOVE. There was a gap in the rails, where some steps led to the water — a place easy to land from the pretty pleasure- boat that was anchored there, away from the rough shallows of the lake. Satanella was forcing Jean towards this with maniac strength ; she had resolved to separate Paul from Jean in spite of all, and it seemed she would be successful. In vain Jean clung to the rails and screamed for help — none came ; and with one cruel wrench Satanella tore her away, and jumped down into the black water, Jean's despairing cry ringing in her ears like sweetest music. yk ^ ■ -^ ^ CHAPTER LXI. lAUL, searching for Satanella, heard Jeannie's I despairing cry, and ran in the direction I from whence it proceeded, felt his way I along the bridge, and listened. Again in il muffled tones came that awful cry of " Help ! " and " Murder ! " a sudden splash, a light mad laugh, sweet and clear as a bell, and then silence awful to endure in the density of darkness. In a second he had thrown aside all caution, flew down the steps, and struck out boldly, his idea being that Satanella had fallen or thrown herself into the lake, which was deep and treacherous. Directed by a sound, he grasped a human form that was sinking fast; he bore it swiftly to the steps, succeeded in landing it safely, when again on the awful stillness there rang out the cry for succour. He plunged in blindly, swam about, but in vain; at last, diving cautiously, he felt a struggling form, grasped it, and made for the steps. His strength was spent as he reached them, and he had great difficulty in landing, sinking down when he had done so beside the form he had rescued, almost insensible. Just then the moon peeped wanly from behind a storm-cloud, and to his horror and amazement he saw his wife stark and pale beside him, her face white as the driven snow, and set with a look of dread. * " My God, how awful ! Jeannie, my darling, what shall I do ? Surely she can't be dead ! " He hastily laid his hand upon her heart ; it beat faintly, and a cry of gratitude escaped him; then he turned the other figure over, and saw it was Satanella. Satanella, with wide-open unseeing eyes staring up at the heavens ; death, swift and terrible, written pn every feature. ■k 392 BONNIE JEANj Paul shuddered ; he saw she was beyond hope^ and believed she had died hugging her black secret, her cruel treachery, to her heart. Relentless to the last, she had obeyed him — she had gone to her death. With a shudder he turned away, lifted Jean in his arms, and sped away to the house. His impatient summons roused the slumbering house- hold, and swift as thought the help so much needed was got. Jean was placed in a hot bath, was tended by the almost heart-broken Mrs. Large ; a groom rode post haste for a doctor ; and the duke, wild with anxiety, waited while Paul and a footman hastened back to the bridge to fetch Satanella. They carried her between them to the house, and remedies were tried to revive her. Meanwhile the doctor came, succeeded in restoring Jean, and did his best for Satanella ; but she was gone beyond the reach of human help — gone, in the full flower o^ youth and beauty, to her doom, her sinful soul passed to its natural element. Truly "The wages of sin is death.-'' Seeing her so beautiful in death, Paul felt it was hard to judge, and when 'no one was looking, he, in a softened mood, pressed his lips to the poor clay, and prayed the AU-mercifiil God to have mercy on her soul. " 'Tis Lady Dandergard,'' he said, as Eliza Large entered the room. " Oh, sir,'' said the old woman, shivering with terror, *' what does it all mean ? I know you have saved my poor young mistress from a dreadful death. How came this poor sinful creature to cross my poor darling's path V " Heaven only knows." '" Judge her not. She has gone to account for herself in the Most High Court of Justice. Her mother is in the village at the Deepdane Arms. I will go to her. Forget that you have seen me, there's a good soul. I am not wanted here — I knoAV that. Some day, when Jean is happy in the love of a better man, tell her I held her in these arms to- night, and felt as though these poor arms of mine encompassed Paradise. I shall go away for ever. My OR; THE POWER OP LOVE. 393 fate is a liopeless one, the only voice that could proclaim my innocence of the most foul charge brought against me, is hushed in death. She could have cleared me; my case is hopeless now." Eliza watched him depart in his drenched garments, and said : " Have a care, sir, or to-night's work will bo your death/' ' " If it were, I would bless to-night's work, Eliza, for indeed I am tired of life." He went away without another word, his soul full of despair, his heart aching with hopeless love. He stopped at the lodge-gates to get a coat and hat, then made his way to the village. Mrs. Prior said she would stop that night in hopes that he would change his mind or send some kind message to her girl. The old woman had long since gone to bed, and the house was all dark; but Paul rang them up, for he meant to go away the first thing in the morning, and he wished to tell Satanella's mother all he knew of that night's work. His idea was to go right away from England and settle somewhere far away from his old friends. All home-ties were broken ; there was nothing to keep him where memory of happier times renewed his misery daily. He felt his fate was decided — all hopes of a reconciliation with Jean was over for ever. Scared by his summons, Mrs. Prior got up and met him in the landlady's parlour. The first glance at him prepared her for trouble. " You bring me bad Hews ? Speak ! What has happened? I am used to trouble. Tell me quickly what has brought you here ? " Paul made her drink a glass of wine and sit down, then very tenderly he told her of all that had happened since she left him. She did not cry out or shed a tear, but rocked herself slowly to and fro with closed eyes, as though she prayed. When he had told her all there was to tell, she staggered to her feet, and whispered : — ^ 394 BONNIE JEAN ; " Take me to her. She was my only child, my hand- some wilful girl, but still the child of my heart ! I loved her for all her^faults ! I can't believe she is dead — I must see her first. Ah, this is hard to bear, to see her cut off in her prime. I suppose she fell into the water. You were hard on her ; she had wronged you, I know, but yon should not have driven her to her death." "1 tried to save her.'' *' Ah, it was not to be ; her fate was to die young, and who knows that it were not better so, since she was so unhappy ? God is more merciful than man. God pity my poor girl ! Oh, this will break up poor Jim ; he was so proud of his girl." So the poor old woman murmured all the way to the lodge-gates. Here Paul left her, after directing her where to go. He was feeling worn-out, but there was work for him to do before he slept. First, he wrote a long letter to Jean, then he packed his books, papers, etc., and directed them to his chambers in town. After this he smoked a pipe in moody silence, then, worn-out by the events of the day, fell asleep in his wet clothes at dawn beside the open window. The hot glow of the morning sunshine awoke him ; it was nine o'clock, and he was so stiff and sore he could not move ; all his limbs seemed turned to lead, and his blood boiled with fever. Illness had overtaken him; he could only creep to his bed and throw himself upon it with a groan of agony. He felt like a wild bird caged; he longed to get away, but could not. Must he lie there and die ? Would no one bring him a cup of water to cool his parched throat ? The heat of noon-tide came and found him raving ; his brain, bewildered by illness and worry, kept going over the events of the night before. Paul never knew how long he lay alone, ill and wretched; but after a brief sleep he awoke, to find Mrs. Prior by his side, her old face grey and drawn with trouble. ■^ ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 395 "You are very ill, my poor fellow ; I have sent for a doctor. You must have been mad to keep on your wet . clothes. I have seen my poor girl; there is to be an inquest ; then I shall take her home and lay her in the churchyard where she played as a child — such a pretty, lively child she was ; ah, if she had only died while her soul was white ! " " Ah, old lady, it were well for us all if we died while our souls were white ; but the parsons preach pardon for all. Give me something to drink; I am parched. ^^^lat shall I do when you are gone ? " he said, as she put damp cold rags on his forehead, and found a cool place on the pillows for his aching head. " I shall not go till you can spare me ; I shall never forget that she loved you. Does the light hurt you ? it has been such a sunny day." Paul turned his tired gyes to where the settmg sun with gold embroidered gorgeously the vaults of the high heavens. '■ No, do not shut out the light. Tell me, how is my poor Jean ? " " Quite well, but terribly upset. She has a kind, tender heart ; I wonder anyone could wrong so sweet a woman. She does not know who rescued her; she believes it was really only a gate-keeper. She asked me many questions about you, all of which I answered, you may be sure, in your favour. I think my poor girl must have cleared you in her sight, for she cried out when I had spoken of you : ' Ah, how cruelly have I misjudged him, the lord of my life, the father of my child!'" Paul sat up, his eyes glowing with hope. " Did she say that ? Do not trifle with me — remember it is a matter of life and death ! " " Trifle with you ? Do I look like trifling — I with my sore heart and my new sorrow ? " " No, no ; forgive me ; my brain is dazed. You have given me hope ; if Mabel cleared me in my Jean's sight, I can pardon all else." Then he laughed a strange witless laugh, and his mind wandered away on wildest fancies. ^ 396 BONNIE JEAN ; The doctor came just then, and after examining him said : " Your son, I suppose, ma'am ? " "No, sir, he is no son of mine, except in affection." " Do you intend to nurse him ? " "Certainly, sir; he has no one else." " Then you must be prepared for a hard task." " I owe it him, sir/' said Mrs. Prior, her mind full of the great wrong her only child had done him. She received the doctor's directions, saw him out, and stood at the gate a second looking after him, her hand shading her eyes. Just then, Felice came up, and timidly enquired after Paul. " Come in," said Mrs. Prior, recognising the girl as a friend of Paul's ; she had seen them talking together the day before. " The poor iellow is very ill indeed, and I am going to stay to take care of him ; there are reasons why I do not want people poking and prying about here — perhaps you know why ? " " Yes, I am the poor gentleman's confidante ; no one else knows who he is. My mistress believes him to be just the gate-keeper, Burt ; but she is anxious for news of him, and grateful to him for saving her life. She is quite a different creature to-day, restless, full of hope one moment and fear the next. The inquest is arranged for to-morrow; I suppose the poor gentleman will be "too ill to attend ? " " Yes, the doctor will send to say so ; his evidence will not be wanted ; Mrs. Martinet's will suffice." " So I imagine. It is a shocking affair ; the storm was to blame, I suppose. My mistress says she must have walked on to the bridge in her sleep, professes not to know how she got into the water, thinks Lady Dander- gard lost her life in trying to save her." " Did she say that ? Your mistress is what is next door to an angel — a perfectly good woman — God bless her! Keep her away from here somehow. Now go, my girl, and don't forget that the poor fellow upstairs expects us to keep his secret till he gives us leave to speak." in- !8^- OR, THE POWEE OF LOVE. 397 "I shall not forget, ma'am. Good-bye." ''Good-bye. Tell Mrs. Martinet her preserver is in good hands." Felice went away at once^ and hastened over the dewy grass to the house. Jean was waiting for her in the hall. " You have been quick, Felice. What news ? " " Bad news, ma'am ; the poor fellow, Burt, is in a high fever. Mrs. Prior is with him. She says it will divert her from her sorrow to nurse him." " How good she is, the grand old woman ! Can we do anything to help her ? " '' She says not, ma'am ; but I should think we might send beef-tea, wines, jellies, and so on, if you feel inclined." " Of course I feel inclined. Send Mrs. Large to me, and then fetch Pridie ; he has been fretting for you." Jean was dressed in a plain white dress, relieved by a bunch of pale moss-rosebuds at her neck. She sat on a low chair with a novel in her lap, trying to read, but she could not ; that still white presence in the guest-chamber oppressed her fearfully; the gloom over the house was dismal in the extreme. Lady Culmore and her brother had gone for a ride, and Jean had spent much of the day alone. Her heart and mind were full of Satanella; her con- fession had eased her heai't of its great load of jealous pain, and left in its place a new and perplexing trouble. " Where was Paul ? " she wondered. How she longed to beg his forgiveness — how love for him leapt with new life in her heart ! How grateful she was that Satanella's confession had not come too late ! Suppose she had been the duke's wife ? Ah, she had been saved from much misery, yet how should she tell the man who loved her so dearly that she was lost to him for ever ? And tell him she must, before she slept that night. She dreaded the task, for she knew it must give him pain, but she owed it to Paul to undeceive her lover at }k — a 398 BONNIE JEAN; once. Her lover ! — the words made a hot bhish spread over the fairness of her cheek. Would Paul ever forgive the fact that she had a lover ? The soft breeze blew in upon her gently, birds sang, and flowers bloomed about her, yet there was a winter's chill and sadness in Jean's heart, for she feared she had put happiness for ever out of her reach by her stubborn disbelief. What would Paul say to her when he knew she had discovered her injustice ? Paul was proud and free, she had done enough to kill all love in him ; must they always remain strangers ? Her heart bled at the thought. She had written to her lawyer requesting him to arrange a meeting between her and Paul, and waited with vast impatience for his answer. She little knew that Paul lay so near, sick unto death. While she worried over her fresh perplexities Mr. Brassy came up the long avenue. Seeing him, Jean rose and went to meet him. " This is a sad affair, my dear child; I am so grieved for you. It seems you are never to be left in peace." " Yon have heard all, then ? " "Yes, and I am greatly grieved that the sinner should have gone to her death with her siu uure- pented." "My dear sir, who but the Great Master of the universe can read the heart ? She may have repented ; silence hides many a sore heart." Jean linked her fair hands on his arm and quoted in a ]>roken voice : " Make no deep scrutiny into lier mutiny ; Rash and midutiful, past all dishonour, Death hath left on her only the beautiful ; for truly ' all that remains of her now is pure, womanly/ You should see her, with death's seal upon her, so sad, so fair a sight, one wonders that corruption dares to taint so beautiful a thing. Her hair is of the colour of the golden bloom one brushes from the wings of a » ^ OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 399 moth ; her skin is white as milk and cold as snow ; her lips half closed like a pale pink shell that holds a prize of pearls; her eyes, like steel mirrors dimmed by a passing breath, shine under shadows; her lashes are curled up like the petals of a freshly-faded flower. Were I a man who loved her I should do as the knight did, who, looking on his dead love, said : " It's I will kiss your bonnie cheek, And I will kiss yom* chin, And I will kiss your clay-cauld lips, But I'll never kiss woman again. Her sins have melted away like last winter's snows ; we will forget them, for the dead have no faults, and " Owning her weakness, Her evil behaviour, and leaving With meekness her sins to her Saviour, we will remember only that she was one of us, and, like us, in need of peace and pardon." Mr. Brassy patted Jean's pretty hands affection- ately ; he was very fond of Jean, and grieved greatly oyer her ruined happiness, and he was also proud of her piety and gentle womanly nature, for he had been one of the tutors of her youth, and naturally took some credit to himself seeing her so good and pure of heart. " Why has Vi deserted me to-day, sir ? " " Well, the fact is, my dear, Mr. Fred Lyston turned up this morning, and Vi and he seem to have for- gotten the world contains aught but themselves. I sent young Drake away disconsolate; I expected to find him here. He was terribly shocked to hear of Lady Dan- dergard's sad end ; had it not been for her fascination, I fancy Vi would have found a husband sooner. By- the-bye, some friends of yours are expected to arrive at the vicarage to-morrow — guess who they are ? " " I am in no mood for guessing, sir ; tell me who is coming." ''None other than Dr. Granger and his wife ; their baby son is to be christened at our church, and Vi is to be godmother." Jean looked at her old friend reproachfully. "You might have told me Hagar had a child; she resented my conduct to Paul, and we have not been s?- 400 BONNIE JEAN ; quite sucli friends as we once were. But I love lier dearly, and am truly glad to hear she has a son. John must be pleased." " ' Pleased ^ is a poor word to express his state, my dear; but there, yoa will judge of his content when you see how stout he is getting. Here are your grand friends, Jean; now I'll be off, you will have enough to do to entertain them. Good-bye, my deai*, I suppose you will find time to run in and see Hagar's new baby ? By-the-bye, I hear your gate-keeper is in a dangerous way." " Oh yes ; is it not sad ? It is a real trouble to me. The doctors won't let me see him to thank him for saving my life. Do you think he will die ? " "My dear, his life is in God's hands; none of us can foresee how this illness will end." " Not unhappily, I hope," said Jean, her gentle eyes suffused with tears. Mr. Brassy hurried away, and Jean, feeling more miserable than ever, waited for her friends. Lady Culmore came slowly towards her in her riding- habit, held up in her slim well-gloved hands. Her brother and she had been discussing the prospect of an early marriage with Jean. " Lose no time ; a woman loves an ardent wooer," were Lady Culmore's words as they came up to Jean. "Have you had an enjoyable ride ? " asked Jean with her sweet sad smile. "Delightful, my dear; I A^^sh 3'ou had gone with us, though, of course, under the circumstances, it were not possible. I am going in to get rid of my habit. Don't come in, dear; the house is all gloom. Let's have a cup of tea out here under the limes. Sliall I tell Mrs. Large to attend you here ? " " Do, it will be delicious, and I will go and get some pears from the orchard if your brother will come and shake the tree for me; we boast some real sweet Williams." Sf- OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 401 " Of course, it is my pleasure to attend you, Jean/' said Ormsby, watching the pretty chaugeful face with eyes of adoration. Seeing the love-light in his eyes, Jean's heart smote her ; she dreaded the idea of giving so good a heart pain. Jeat sat on a rustic seat in the grass-grown orchard, her lap full of luscious golden pears. Her eyes were full of tears, and her sweet lips quivered. She had been trying to tell the duke of the great change Satanella's confession had made in her feelings towards Paul ; and Ormsby leant against a tree with a strange stricken look upon his face, his eyes looking upon " the happy autumn fields, and thinking of the days that are no more." " Try to forget me ; try to understand how impossible it is that we can be anything more than friends in future. Oh, please speak to me ; look at me. I am so grieved for you." Jean took the strong white hand that hung so listlessly by his side, and pressed it against her cheeks, her lips, her heart. 1* She had never felt so truly fond of him before ; had he been an only brother, leaving her in pain and trouble, she could not Lave felt differently. The touch of Jean's soft, dewy lips upon Ormsby's hand made him, strong man as he was, tremble from head to toot. He loved her so, and felt he was losing her for ever. Turning hastily, he took her in his arms and pressed her convulsively to his breast, saying in a voice shaken Avitli sobs : " Must I lose you, Jeannie ? Oh, my dear, my dear, must I carry this ache in my heart to the grave ? Is there no hope for me ? Think of my great love, my everlasting faith. Oh, Jean, Jean, the pain is more than I can bear ! Pity me, my darling, and ^ do not take all comfort from me ; my heart seems dying within me. Oh, love is an aAvful joy, too often a curse ! Forgive me if I seem rough to you. Think of all I am losing." 5§- 402 BONNIE JEAN; " I do think of it ; I feel it is hard for you to bear, yet I must maintain my decision ; I dare not marry another man, knowing my husband has never forfeited the right to my love and loyalty. I do not suppose he cares for me now : I have been so cruel to him — killed love and trust in his kind heart for ever. « But though he is cold to me, I can be constant to him, and retrieve, by a pure life dedicated to the memory of past joy, the great wrong I have done him. For honour's sake, all must be over between us ; it is hard for you, but it has been harder for my poor Paul." Jean looked up imploringly at the troubled face that looked down upon her with such despair in his eyes. Ormsby still held her clasped in his arms ; her tear- ful eyes moved him to pity her even as he did him- self. '' Suppose, Jean, that your Paul proves unforgiving — suppose he prefers to keep his freedom and refuses to take you back ? " The crimson crept into Jean's cheeks. " Then I must bear it as best I can; it will be a well- deserved punishment; but then I can live alone for his sake. I have our boy to love." " Love him well as you may, Jean, the love of a little child will not satisfy the craving of the woman's heart within you. And so you give me no shadow of hope ; not even if you are condemned to loneliness, you will not let me comfort you ? " " No. If I am to remain unforgiven, my trouble will be beyond comfort. 'Tis best to face the matter out at once. You must understand that if Paul will not take me back as a wife, I must remain widowed all my life." A great glory of feeling flooded her fair face as she continued, with a sly blush — " Cannot you understand what Paul is to me — the light of life, the one desire of my heart, the end and aim of my existence ? I would rather serve him on my knees than be the loadstar of another man's life. Even as you love me, I love him. Now let me go ; it grieves me to pain you. I hate to see your eyes so troubled. J^ --— — — . ,^ ^ : ^. : ^ ^ OR, THE POWER OP LOVE. 403 All my life I shall think of you with pain and regret, and blame myself for your disappointment/' " Kiss me, Jean — kiss me as you would were I dead, for from ^to-day my dream is ended. I will be your friend always, no other woman shall take your place in my heart, but I will never again forget that you are a wife and a mother. God bless you, dear ? You are not to blame for my trouble ; it came to me without help from you. It was my fate to love and suffer, and it has made a better man of me; love for a good woman never works evil in a man. Do not torment yourself with self-reproach; we may be happy yet, though we may not be happy together.'' Jean's lips responded to his warm caressing, a suffocating pain in her gentle heart. He was so kind and true, and loved her so well, and she gave him only sorrow in return for all his love and sympathy. His eyes lingered lovingly upon her sweet face.; then, with a sigh, he left her, saying he did not feel fit for any company but his own. Jean watched him stride away to where the golden cornfields waved under the soft breeze. ''God comfort him, and forgive me!" she said, as she buried her face in her hands, and cried as if her heart would break with excess of pity. Lady Culmore, seeking her among the soft green shadows, found her thus, with the golden pears at her feet, and her pretty head bowed in deep despon- dency. A few broken words explained all. Lady Calmore was greatly concerned for her brother. She knew this decision of Jean's would be a terrible blow to him. Naturally, he had her sympathy, and she felt vexed with Jean for passing him by, even for one who had so great a claim on her as the father of her child. She did not say much, but coaxed Jean to help her pick up the fruit ; and just as they were both kneeling on the grass, looking for stray pears, Bertie Drake came up. J% 404 BONNIE JEAN ; He had called at the house, and been directed to the orchard by Eliza Large. Seeing the traces of tears on Jean's pale face, he directed all his attentions to tbe charming widow, who met his advances witli responsive interest. ■Jean wondered if he carried an ache in his heart, he seemed so gay ; yet there was a haggard, weary look on his face, and his gaiety seemed forced and un- natural. She was glad Vi had given her happiness into a more trusty keeping, and thought, seeing Lady Oulmore and Bertie together, that they were more fitted for each other ; both, unlike simple honest Vi, being- of the world worldly. After dinner that evening, Jean, anxious for news of the sick man she supposed to be Burt, put on her hat and strolled down to the gate-house to enquire after him. She- left Lady Culmore and Bertie Drake chatting over some fruit and wine on the green lawn. It was a beautiful night, and as Jean went alone through the moonlight, she felt the calm beauty of the scene steal into her heart like a charm. By the gate she met Ormsby, looking old and ill. He started at sight of her as if he had seen a ghost, then, passing his hand over his eyes, said hoarsely : "Jean, I am going away this very night, dear; I cannot stay where you are ; to be near you tempts me to forget I have lost you ; I might even offend you by my mad love-making — a man cannot always control his heart. Some friends of mine are getting up a party to explore Japan ; they want me to join them. I shall go, and when I come back I may be able to meet you as a friend only ; after all, your friendship is dearer than another woman's love. You can explain my reason to Constance, who will send my man after me to my club. Say I am called away by urgent business, dear, and try to think kindly of me when I am gone." Jean told him she had no need to try, but that she thought better of him than he imagined. -^ OEj THE POWER OP LOVE. 405 They then walked up and down in the moonlight, talking of his plans ; and Jean tried to persuade him to return to the house with her^ but this he would not do ; he said he could get a glass of sherry and some biscuits at the Deepdane Arms. When it came to really saying farewell^ Jeannie was vei'y much upset, and she leant against the railing of the gate-house in silence, white to the lips. She felt she was sending this man into an undeserved exile ; yet what could she do ? Her hands shook as she pulled some of the sweet- scented jasmine, and toyed with it nervously. Ormsby took both hands and flowers into his, and said : "1 see you are sorry for me, little woman; but you must not fret. I feel ' His better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.' Give me these flowers, dear ; I shall keep them always. ~ Some day, when I shall come back I hope to find you happy with the man you love ; until then, like a sacred sorrow, I shall cherish the memory of Bonnie Jean." With one yearning look into her sad eyes he was gone, and Jean, leaning against the railings until she could steady herself sufficiently to knock and ask for news of the gate-keeper, was suddenly electrified by hearing a voice she knew as that of Paul shouting savagely : " I tell you I will never forgive her ; she has ruined my life ! I wish the storm would strike her dead at my feet ! Oh, that fearful passion she calls love — how much evil it has wrought for me ! She is unsexed, a thing without pity, deserving no compassion ! Take her away, I say, or I shall kill her! She rouses a madness in my brain that bewilders me." Then followed the sound of a struggle, and then in a changed tone, the voice wailed out wearily : " Let me die ; there is rest in the grave — rest in the grave "; then bursting into song^ " " For tlie pilgrim of love — for the pilgrim of love, No rest but the grave for the pilgrim of love." CHAPTER LXII. 51 I HIS is no place for you, Jeauuie ; come away, you can do no good, and lie is in good hands." It was Mr. Brassy who spoke ; he had come out in time to see Jeannie clinging to the gate for support, her face livid. He had put his arms round her and tried to calm her, hut she only pointed to the window whence the voice sounded, and said : " It is he. How came he here ? Does he hate me so ? What is all this mystery ? " "My dear child, do you not know that Burt, the gate-keeper, and Paul Martinet are one and the same ? A born actor, Paul has played his part cleverly, but he will explain all when he is well enough ; just now, poor fellow, he is unconscious of everything but the pain he feels, he knows no one, and Mrs. Prior is like a mother to him ; she is trying to atone for her daughter's sin. She is a grand old body, noble and unselfish to a marvellous degree; the way she has set sorrow aside to attend to the wants of another is wonderful. Come, child, be brave, sensible, patient — all will come right in the end ; only wait and hope." " But suppose he were to die without a word of forgiveness ? " " We hope he will not die ; but if there were greater danger than there now is, you could do no good by seeing him ; while he ia in the state he is now he would not know you." " What a weak fool you think me ! I Avill go to him — I have the right." " Had the right and wilfully laid it aside, forgetting the divine command, which tells us to forgive unto seventy times seven." ^ BONNIE JEAN ; OK, TEE POWER OF LOVE. 407 " You are cruel to me, sir." "'You would be cruel to yourself. Come, I will see YOU liome; remembei*, to-morrow will be a trying day for you; you will need all your strength." " Don't talk to me of to-morrow ; there may be no to-morrow -for him." "And there maybe a long, useful, and noble life, during which you Avill be given time to atone to him for the misery you have made him endure. Poor fellow ! he has been badly treated." Mr. Brassy pulled Jean's hand through his arm, but she broke away and ran into the house, like a bird to its nest. On the stairs she panted for breath, paused a moment to collect herself and think ; she could hear Mrs. Prior speaking soothingly to the sick man, could hear his voice, hoarse and changed, whispering that he wanted to go out of the stifling room into the fresh air. Then there was the sound of another voice, which Jean knew to be the- doctor's, and Jean shrank back into the shadows on the little landing, and waited for him to go ; she did not want him to see her, she did not know how much or little he knew of her affairs. She longed to take her place by Paul's side, before all the world — was she not his wife ? Then, with a little shudder, she remembered the law had released her from her mai'riage-vows — she was free. Ah, and Paul was free too, and might despise a love that had failed him, when its faith was put to the test. Jean heard someone approach the door, and hastily opening another that led into a small room, she shut herself in, and listened to the sound of descending footsteps. Directly she knew they were clear of the stairs, she crossed the landing and entered the room Avhere Paul lay. His head was bandaged with wet linen, his eyes, wild as a hunted thing, turned to her enquiringly. ^- 408 BONNIE JEAN ; OK^ THE POWER OP LOVE. ''Who are you that dare to come in my wife's semblance, to torture me with memories of what might have been ? Go away. Are you not afraid of me ? See these hands, they say they are weak because they shake so, yet I warrant they are strong enough to strangle a giant, and j^ou are but a puny thing. Go to Jean and tell her 1 am dying ; her cruelty has killed me. I want to see my boy ; he is as much mine as hers, yet she robbed me of him and left me alone in the world. Hark ! I hear bells ; are they ringing for her wedding ? She is to be a duchess, my little gentle Jean ; but ducal honours are not fairer than a love- crowned life. I must get up and go away ; don't try to stop me ; if I stay here I shall kill them both.'' He tried to get up, but Jean held him, her little hands strengthened by love. His wild words, haggard looks, and madly staring eyes made her heart sink. Mrs. Prior, hastily recalled by the raised voice of the sick man, found him struggling in Jean's arms. A few calm words, and the pressure of her kind old hand reduced the sick man to quietude. Mrs. Prior motioned Jean to stand out of his sight ; then she gave him a composing draught, moistened his hot head afresh, and held his feverish hands as one does a sick or timid child, till his wild eyes closed, and his weak babbling voice was still ; then she whispered to Jean : " You were foolish to come here ! You can do no good. He does not know anyone. His ravings will only terrify you. Go home. I will send for you when there is any change. He may take a turn to-morrow. Mr. Brassy is waiting for you. Shall I tell him you are coming ? " "No; 1 shall stay here to-night. I will not inter- fere with you. 1 will stay downstairs if you prefer it ; but, please, do not send me away. I could not rest at home, indeed — indeed I could not ; and it must be lonely for you, sitting up alone. Could I not keep vigil to-night ? I could call you if he needs you ; and you look so tired and ill I " » ^ ^^ jfOTXCE— This Work will Ibe published every WedsesdaT. Orders should he gives to voor Bookseller earlj, BONNIE JEA^. No. 18. 410 BONNIE JEAN; "I am used to sitting up. My husband is an Invalid; and I can't bear to have time to think. Besides, I owe liim my best service. Has not my only child spoilt his life ? Poor fellow ! How he has suffered ! It cuts me to the heart to think of it ! " The old lady wiped her eyes, then with a faint smile at Je'an's sympathetic looks, said : " Well, well, dearie, stay if it pleases you ; I have no right to bid you go. Shall I ask Mr. Brassy to take a message to the house ? " "Yes; if he will wait a second I will write to Lady Cu^raore; where can I find pens and paper?" asked Jean. "In the sitting-room below; follow me — I will show you.- " Is it safe to leave him ? " asked Jean, stooping to press a kiss on Paul's bare throat. "Yes; he will sleep for hours, sleep will save him from madness." «, " Madness ! " whispered Jean, with horror-dilated eyes ; that word of dread had stirred a thousand apprehensions in her heart. Oh, to lose him like that would be a hundred times worse than death ! Bewildered by the idea, Jean staggered after Mrs, Prior, and entering Paul's little sitting-room sank int(^ his seat, tears falling like rain upon the bosom of her dress. Alone in the room where Paul had spent so many weary heart-sick hours of labour, Jean looked reverently upon the many tokens of his late presence scattered about the apartment. The book he had been reading lay with a paper-knife to mark the place ; his MS. was neatly laid sheet upon sheet under a paper-weight ; his pet pipe, his hat, his gun, all lay near, claiming Jean's sorrowful attention in turn. She kissed the pipe, peeped into his book, touched tenderly his sheets of neatly-written MS., and then with a sigh commenced to write her note to her friend Constance. 5^- OR, THE POWER OF LOVE. 411 It took some time to write, for there was much to explain, and the duke's message to deliver. When it was finished, Jean felt a weight lifted from her minJ. _ -^ She took it out to Mr. Brassy, who was sitting deep in thought, his chin resting on his hands at the top of his stick. He started as Jean touched him, and said : "At last! Really I consider I have the patience of Job. Well, my dear, I am glad to see you looking a little like yourself again. I shall call for you to- morrow at noon; you will be wanted at home, you know, dear." " Yes," said Jean with a little shudder ; " and I shall be glad when the miserable business is settled." " So shall I ; it casts a gloom over the whole village. That lake will be more than ever avoided as haunted ; your sleep-walking propensities are to blame, I fear, for the uncanny character of the place hitherto, but hence- forth the rustics will have greater reason for calling the place haunted. I should have it filled up if I were you, Jean." • " Perhaps I shall ; i shudder when I think of myself crossing that bridge at midnight, with sleep-dimmed eyes, and a mind insensible of danger. Give my dear love to Vi, Hagar, and John, and tell them I will see them soon." Jean looked so young and innocent, her eyes red with crying, her pretty hair rough, and her face looking like that of a grieved child, that her old friend's heart warmed toAvards her, and laying a hand on her head, he said, solemnly : " God bless and keep you in this time of trouble ! Do not forget where to turn for comfort, Jean, and keep brave and hopeful ; 'tis but a passing cloudy that now obscures the heaven of your happiness. I see joy ahead, nud a long, peaceful, happy life with the man you love, God willing." Jean's heart stirred hopefully ; this fair prophecy, and the prayerful earnestness in which it was uttered, im- pressed her as a good omen. ^' 41 2 BONNIE JEAN j With, an April face, slie watclied lier old friend away, tlien turned and entered the house again. Seated at Paul's writing table, aimlessly looking among his papers, she came across an old pocket-book, with jottings of a diary-like nature inside ; she glanced through them, and found many notes that confirmed Paul's innocence of the charges she had brought against him. Her heart ached for him, as she read little records of his daily life and its loneliness and hojjelessness. She shut the book, and locked it in a drawer with a shame-stricken look ; she felt she had not done well in looking over things not intended for her eyes. That night she sat up with Paul alone, and during her vigil her mind reviewed her past Avitli anything but rose-coloured spectacles. She saw herself rash, wilful, suspicious, and unbelieving, and she felt humbled and ashamed. Paul passed a restless night, and the doctor, seeing him early in the morning, shook his head gravely. The change he had hoped to see had not come yet, and he could give little hope of recovery. Jean heard this with dry eyes, but her pain and sorrow deepened; she dreaded to leave him for a second, and when at noon Mr. Brassy came to take her home in order to attend the enquiry resiDect- iug the death of Satanella, she lingered so long by the bedside that he had to insist upon her going with him. Jean pressed her lips to Paul's pale cheek ; he still slept the heavy dreamless sleep of insensibility ; and ■ the thought came to her that this kiss might be her only farewell to the soul that hovered between life and death, like a captive bird whose cage is opened, and who knows not whether to fly away or remain in captivity. When Jean reached home, the meeting had assembled. With kind consideration for her, she was asked but few questions, which she answered briefly. What use to blacken the memory of the dead ? OR, THE POWER OF LOYE. 413 So Satauella's deatli appeared purely an accident, and lier poor old mother was free to take her to be laid in God's-acre at her own home, in the place where she had made daisy-chains as a child. Looking her last upon the beautiful face that had wrought such sad havoc in the hearts of men, Jean wondered if Paul would follow her to the land of shadows, and be lost to his poor young- wife for ever. ^-^^-, CHAPTER LXIII. HAT is your opinion of Paul, Dr. John ? " asked Jean that afternoon, when, return- ing, she found her old friend by Paul's bedside. "My opinion is that with care and time, you and I, working together, can pull him through." Dr. John spoke confidently, and his words raised Jean's hopes to the highest pitch. Tears rushed to her eyes — tears of gratitude and joy. Paul was still unconscious of his surroundings, but the fever had decreased, and the pulse had strengthened • — signs of a good import to the professional mind. Dr. John, who had judged Jean rather harshly, felt his old opinion of her return, seeing her anxiety on Paul's account. " I shall stay with him till the danger is past," Dr. John continued ; " I have every hope of him. It will be your mission to complete the cure by making him happy, Jean." " If he will let me, I will try to make him forget the past ; but he must hate me for my cruel suspicion ; fancy anyone being wicked enough to imagine so good a man guilty of murderous intentions towards the mother of his child ! " " Who could think so ill of Paul as that, Jean ? " " I, his wife, the woman who loved him. Oh, the idea of it is full of shame and horror to me now ! yet I was made to believe he left Satanella behind to poison me, sending the drugs to her for that foul purpose." " She made you believe that of him ? Oh, Jean, how perverted your mind must have been by jealousy to credit such a story ! So you accused yourself of suicidal mania to screen Paul? I never could understand, until Ik S? . — ^ BONNIE JEAN; 0E_, THE POWER OF LOVE. 415 now^ what was his unpardonable crime in your sight. Poor old chap ! he has been cruelly misjudged; never let him know you could believe him capable of so foul a crime^ if you value his love. Humble yourself to him when he returns to reason, ask his pardon on your knees, and never let him know how much he has to forgive, or he may think you unworthy of his love." '•' I know I am unworthy of him, but if he will take me back, my whole life shall atone for the mistakes of my jealous mind." '•' We must be careful to avoid all that can excite him when he is sensible. You must go away, and return only when he has quite recovered ; a relapse would be fatal to him." " I will be guided by you in all things ; I do not think I shall ever be so fond of my own opinion again," said Jean, humbly, laying her cheek against Paul's wasted hand. A bright sunny breeze came in at the open window and flooded the sick room Avith light and sweet scents ; a waggon loaded with golded corn slowly went by. Jean watched it with musing eyes ; her thouo-hts went beyond the present to the far-off future. How would life be with her when the corn was cut again ? she wondered. So much may happen in a year. Dr. John saw the beautiful face gloom, noticed how anxiety had lined the fair forehead, and thought it would be well for Jean if some peaceful times could come to her. Paul threw his arms restlessly over his head and talked wrathfully of *' Treachery that was tearing all joy out of his life." Mrs. Prior, pale and worn, said as she brought Jean a cup of tea : ••' Mr. Brassy has very kindly undertaken the removal of my poor girl to her own home; the coffin will pass here in an hour ; already there is a crowd collected in the high-road. I shall travel by the same train, and return here directly the funeral is over. It must be soon. Mrs. Large is below, waiting to take my place here." 416 BONNIE JEAN ; " I shall be glad for Eliza to remain ; there is mucli I cannot do, but I can nurse my poor boy — 'tis my pleasure to do so ; Dr. Granger Avill give me fullest instructions/' " And remain with you while there is need," said Dr. John, taking up the tea that had been placed for him by the bedside, on a table that was laden with sweet- scented flowers. Jean slipped away for a little private talk with Mrs. Prior, who, faint with the heat, stood in the porch to get a breath of fresh air. '^You must not worry about Paul; he is in good hands ; you must try to get well, and live down your trouble,^'' said Jean, putting her soft hand into the old woman's hard palm. " I will be your daughter now ; you must try to love me, and look upon me as someone belonging to you. I am so lonely; it would be a charity to care for me a little." The old woman's eyes softened, she smoothed the hair back from Jean's forehead tenderly, and answered with a smile : "You will not be lonely long, child; you will have your husband and children to love you ; but if an old woman's loving prayers can be counted any gain, you will have mine. And I will come to you in sickness and trouble, and be a help and comfort to you as long as 1 live. Thank God I am hale and hearty still ; my work is not yet finished. When I go to my rest I hope to leave you a happy wife and mother. JSTow I must get on my things ; Mr. Brassy will call for me as he passes." Jean tied on the heavy crape bonnet, adjusted the sombre black shawl, and patted the old face fondly with her little soft hands, wishing the while that she had just such a good dear old mother of her own to love. Neither Paul nor she had any old people belonging to them, so she thought she might reasonably adopt this dear old soul as a foster-mother, and from that day forth heartily did so, and found in Satanella's mother the truest, staunchest, most useful of her friends. Mr. Brassy's carriage waited in the avenue while tho sad procession passed. 5k 0R_, THE FOWER OF LOVE. 417 A crowd of kind-faced couutry folks stood bare- headed by the roadside while the coffin was carried past. Jean, with Dr. John's hand resting on her shoulder, saw the corpse carried by with while flowers heaped upon the coffin, and felt it was well that the time of stake and cross-road burial had gone by. A great hush fell upon her as her rival passed out of her sight for ever, and as she saw some white doves fly from a dove-cot close by, she thought their hovering over the flowers that covered Satauella's coffin a good omen of peace for the quiet dead. The village children had woven chains of dog-daisies that were hung over the velvet pall. Satanella was a heroine in their sight, for a report had got about that she had lost her life in trying to rescue their Bonnie Jean from death in the dark waters. And Jean was glad that the story went so, for she bore no ill-will to the dead. The little gate-house seemed very still after the pro- cession had passed. Jean felt depressed, and was glad when Felice passed with little Pridie. She ran out, and brought her boy in for Dr. John to see — such a splendid little fellow Avas Pridie, in his snowy linen and rose-coloured ribbons. Dr. John looked at his ruddy sun-browned cheek, and expressed his approval so warmly that Jean was de- lighted. She had carried the child up to Paul's bedside to show him to Dr. John, and was greatly surprised to see that the little fellow struggled to get to the bed, lisping : " Papa ! " _ Dr. John took him from Jean, and sat him down by his father, who was listlessly watching the sunshine dancing like golden water on the wall. Paul^ stared at him for a second, then a smile of recognition brightened his haggard face ; and, stretching out his ai'ms to him, he cried : '' What, has my pretty little sonnie come to pity and cheer his poor old dad ? " The child, a little awed by his altered looks, and seeking in vain for the frolic and fun he usually had ^- 418 BONNIE JEAN; OE, THE POWER OP LOVE. with Paul, put up liis lip to cry ; but Paul, now seeming quite reasonable, took a peacli from tbe table and gave bim. As he did so he saw Jean, and, with a cry of joy and fond affection, fell forward in a dead faint. When he became sensible his head was resting on John's arm, and Felice nursed little Pridie by the window. " Where is Jean ? I saw her here. Do not tell me it was a delusion ; I want her so badly, my Bonnie Jean. Tell her I am dying ! Bring her back to me, for pity's sake ! » " All in good time, dear old boy. You must keep quiet, and get well ; then we will send for Jean." " Happiness alone can cure me ; surely she could not be so cruel as to deny me the sight of her sweet face ! " " No, no, my dearest, my own husband ! I am here, never to leave you again unless you drive me away from you." Jean burst in upon them, throwing herself down by the bedside in passionate abandon. His weak hand went out to her, a dreadful whiteness spread over his lips and face bke a shadow, and again came that deadly insensibility to all things. Dr. John laid him back on the pillows with a grim reproach. *'So much for your promise to be guided by me, Mistress Jean; this is 'never trusting to your own opinion ' with a vengeance." -%^^^ :?3=l#s-^ CHAPTER LXIV. H ilOHN kuows bestj Jean/' said Hagar, as she sat by Jean's side in the quaint music-room at Deepdauo. Jean was lying with her face hidden in the sofa-pillowS; sobbing as if her heart Avould break. Hagar had been trying to persuade her it was best that she should not see Paul again until he grew stronger ; the fact was Paul was in a critical state^ and Dr. John was afraid to risk any further excitement. He watched by his side day and night, tending him like a brother. No one was allowed to see him. Lady Culmore discreetly withdrew to her town house, and wrote gushing little letters of kind enquiry to Jeannie. Among other accounts she mentioned Paul's new play at the '' Bonville," cut out all the critiques from the papers, and sent them ; described Sophy Merrick's grand costumes, praised her acting; and gave an account of the duke's departure, with his message of farewell. ■ Already Society papers began to hint at a possible reconciliation between Paul and Jean. Dr. John read these hints with a smile of satisfaction. One day when Paul seemed to have rallied, Dr. John gave him a basket from Jean ; it was full of fruit and flowers, and tied to the stem of a beautiful heartsease a slip of paper containing Jean's wedding-ring, and written upon the paper, in Jeannie's clear hand, was a verse from an old poem : She sends you the ring frae her fiuger The garland frae her hair ; She sends you the heart within her breast, And what could ydu have mair ? 4> J^ ^ 420 BONNIE JEAN ; Paul kissed the lines and the flowers, and slipped the golden fetter upon his little finger, telling himself he must be patient and bide Jeannie's time, but the waiting was hard to bear. The first day Paul was well enough to sit up, Dr. John sent Eliza Large to the house to tell Jeannie she might call at the gate-house, then he discreetly took himself off to Mr. Brassy's to see Hagar and his little son. The birds were singing overhead, the sky was blue and sunny, and as he went through the golden corn- fields Dr. John's heart sang within him for very gratitude. In the meadows that adjoined the vicarage, he met Vi looking bright and bonuie in her pink muslin dress, her sonsie face shaded by a big white hat. She had an easel before her, and had prepared her pallet for painting, but the work had made but little progress, for sitting at her feet, fishing-rod in hand, his tennis-shoes touching the limpid stream, was her lover. They made a handsome pair. Dr. John thought, as he paused a second to admire the picture of happy youth basking in the golden weather. Then he turned with the smile still upon his face that the sight had called there, to see coming towards him in all the gracious beauty of her womanhood, Hagar, with her baby on her breast, and the divine light of motherly love in her dusky eyes. She did not look up from her child's sweet sleeping face until her husband took them both in his arms, saying fondly : " I shall soon be jealous of that youngster, Hagar , I don't believe you miss me a bit having him." " Oh, John, how foolishly you talk, darling ! You know I love our boy because he is a link of love between us. I am so glad you are free of the sick-room for a time, it is such a glorious day. I wish you would get a boat and take me on the river." " Of course I will, dearest ; while you rest here I will go and got a cushion and some wraps, and a basket of goodies; we'll go alone and have a real good time ^ » ^ ORj THE POWER OP L07E. 421 together. In a day or two I hope to see poor old Paul out in the sunshine. He is wonderfully better to-day. I have sent to Jean." " That is good news. Poor girl^ she has been fretting herself ill about him. I went to have breakfast with her this morning, and the sight of her anxious face made me feel wretched. I wish I could see her as happy as we are^ darling.'" ''All will be well with them soon now, dear." "Do you think so? But, John, how do people who are divorced manage r " "They get married afresh." " How droll ! Suppose Paul would not marry Jean again, what would she do ? " "I can't tell you. Who can account for a wilful woman ? If she wants him, she will find a way to make him sympathetic. I expect Paul will not be backward in his wooing. He is the sort of fellow to walk up to Deepdane one fine day, and say in his most masterful manner — and Paul can be masterful : " Madame I am come to woo : Marriage I must have of you. I see our lovers have discovered us." Vi came forward with a delightful blush, and Dr. John, squeezing the hand on which a magnificent hoop of diamonds glittered, said kindly, in an undertone : " So you have found your fate, young lady, and a very good-looking fate it is. I congratulate you with all my heart. The wife and I have not cOme to spoil sport. We are too old for ' daisy-pickers.'' We are off to the river for a quiet time." Eliza Large found her young mistress in a despondent attitude, walking under the limes. She had a book in her hand, and upon her head a wide white hat that shaded her pale face and heavy eyes. Her white morning-robe rustled over the long grass. Eliza felt her hard old heart soften at the sight of the sweet pensive face. Jean put her hand to her heart, as though to still its throbbing, at sight of Eliza, and said, nervously .- j%— - - ~ fi 422 BONNIE JEAN; " You have not brought me any bad news, surely ? . I i'eel as if I could not bear any fresh trouble." " No^ my dear young lady ; I come with good news. Mr. Martinet is better, and wishes to see you. Dr. Granger sent me. I don't know if he told Mr. Martinet to expect you. Perhaps he meant your visit to be a surprise." Jean flushed and trembled with joy. "Eliza, pack a hamper with wine and things for a luncheon; I shall not return till dinner-time. See that there are fresh fruits and flowers sent, and a couple of books you will see on the librar3'--table. Does my dress look fresh ? " " Fresh as a daisy, ma'am," said Eliza, admiringly. Jean smiled ; never did a young maiden Avish to appear fairer on her bridal morn than Jean, now that she was going back a suppliant for her husband's for- giveness. Walking under the green boughs on her own land, Jeannie felt more like a beggar-maid than the queen of the soil. It was a pleasant walk over the verdant meadow-land that bordered the park and led to the principal entrance. Jean walked slowly, thinking as she went how best to appeal to Paul's love, forgetting there was magic enough in her mere presence to soften a harder heart than his. The woman v,^ho did the house-work at the gate- house was sitting in the little patch of garden-ground near the bee-hives knitting; she rose as Jean ap- t^' preached -with a low curtsy, and opened the door of the house. Jean told her she would announce herself, and went with trembling footsteps into Paul's joresence. He sat in a big lounge-chair by the opon window, reading ; he did not hear Jean's soft footfall until she stopped near enough for him to hear her heart beat. Then Avith a cry of rapturous welcome the book fell to the floor, and his hands went out to her eagerly to draw her into his embrace* " No, no, Paul, my place is here," she said, sinking on her knees beside him. " I will not move till I have entreated your forgiveness on my knees. Oh, my dear ^ ^ ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 423 husband, can you ever pardon my doubt of you ? How you have suffered ! Ah, I am not worth so much pain ; love turned to madness in me when I became jealous. I know now how cruelly I misjudged you, and how high above my base suspicion you always were. I come to you as a beggar to a king, humble, penitent, and only daring to hope to win you through my great yearning love." Tears fell unnoticed down Jean's cheeks ; her pretty bare hands went out impulsively to Paul, who took them and linked them about his neck with a sigh that was half a sob, as he said, brokenly : " At last I win my wife ! Oh, Jeannie, Jeannie, I have wanted you so cruelly ! Do not talk of forgive- ness ; what cannot love forgive ? '^ He kissed her wet eyes and trembling lips, aiid held her to him as if he feared if he relaxed his hold she would slip away like a shadow. Their joy became too deep for words ; it was happiness enough to know that they were together, never to part again until death stilled the heart of one or both of them. " Are you well enough to come home to-day, Paul ? You need not walk a step ; I can send for the carriage. This is such a stifling little place ; there does not seem room to breathe. I am sure it can't be good for you to be here." "There are many things to do before I can come Eome with you, Jean." " What do you mean, dearest ? " " Well, first and foremost, there must be a wedding." " For whom ? " ■ " For us, dear little girl ; you forget that the law has as completely dissolved our first marriage as if we were divided by death. I, in the sight of the law, have no wife, you no husband." '' I won't believe anything so wicked," cried Jean, passionately; " I am your wife, you are my husband ; we renew the contract by mutual agreement — that is law enough for me. You shall come home at once, and be master in your own house. Let folks say what they will. ■^ 424 BONNIE JEAN ; if Grod holds us guiltless. Put the ring back on my finger^ and call me wifej and I shall be content^ knowing that the all-seeing eyes of the Great Master see and understand." Paul was touched by her confidence^ and took the ring and placed it on her finger, saying solemnly : " With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee Avorship. God be witness that I take you back in all purity until such time as our reconciliation can be sanctified by a renewal of the vows of matrimony in God's house ! " " And now you will come home, Paul ? " " What will Mr. Brassy say ? " "Who cares ? " cried Jean, with delightful defiance. " If you think well of me, all the world may think ill of me ; henceforth you are my world." She kissed his hand tenderly, and spoke in all sincerity. Just as she spoke Eliza Large entered with a most appetising luncheon, and Jean with subdued gaiety waited on Paul, making him eat and drink more than he had done for days, temj)ting him with kind words and loving caresses. Never had Paul spent a happier day than this. He recalled his first wedding-day with disgust; this was their real happy bridal. After luncheon he slept serenely, resting on Jean's breast, and when he awoke in the gloaming the carriage waited to take them to Deepdane. Paul looked so tired when they arrived that Jean insisted upon his going to his own room. Here Dr. John found him when he came post-haste from a fruitless visit to the gate-house. Paul was sitting up in bed, well propped up by pillows, and looking supremely happy, Jean perched on the bed beside him, and little Pridie playing on the floor. " You rebel, who would have thought you would have taken the law in your own hands in this fashion," said ]>/. John, shaking his head at his radiant patient and glancing slyly at Jean's happy but abashed face. " I am. to blame, doctor ; I wanted him home, so I fetched him." ORj THE FOWER OF LOVE. 425 " It strikes roe you ' fetched him ' in more ways than one, young lady. Well, what is done cannot be undone ; we must make the best of a bad business. Mr Brassy is waiting to speak to you, Jean will you see him ? " Paul s'miled at Jean's dismayed face, and putting his hand on hers, said tenderly : " Send for him here, dearest ; I will not let him lecture you." ''Now, Paul, I protest against that; you are not strong enough to bear any more excitement. Mr. Brassy must wait till to-morrow if you do not wish -lean to see him alone." " Oh, ril see him, Paul ; indeed, I don't mind— why should I ? I suppose he'll preach — that is his province, and I suppose I must put up with it." Jean went downstairs with flushed face and flashing eyes. When the door closed upon her. Dr. John burst into a hearty laugh, saying : " It strikes me very forcibly the vicar will not be victorious in any argument with that little wife of yours to-night, Paul." Jeannie had a long discussion, a serious talk, with her old friend the vicar, during which she shed a few tears and smiled many times. When Dr. John came to say good-night, Jean went to Paul's side, and said shyly : " I come to say good-night, Paul." He took her hand in his, a flash of the old audacious spirit in his eyes as he quoted, tenderly drawing her down to his heart, and leaning his wan cheek against her head : " Good-night P No, love, the night is ill Which severs those it should unite ; Let us retnaiB together still. Then it will be good-night." " But for Pridie's sake, Paul, you must let me go ; Mr. Erassy says we have more than ourselves and the world to consider, so kiss me and good-night." Paul let her go without another word, and she crept away alone, to her bedchamber, and 'worn out with the T 426 BONNIE JEAN; events of the day, after grateful prayers to God, fell asleep, and from sleeping fell to dreaming; and they were not goodly dreams, for in them Satanella stepped like a shape of direst terror that could breathe upon Paul the chilly breath of death. In her sleep, Jean fought with the dream-woman as with an evil fate ; she felt the icy fingers close about her throat, felt herself being torn from PauFs side, saw him sink beneath a cold vapour that surrounded him like a shroud, and wrought up to superhuman terror fled in her sleep to the side of her darling, and sank down insensible by the bedside. So Paul found her in the grey of the morning, her arms flung across his feet, her wan white cheeks damp with her tears. The chill air of dawn seemed to have frozen her into a fair statue ; her little hands, outspread on the counterpane, were white and smooth as the linen. Paul sat up and took her hands in his warm fond clasp, calling her softly by name. " Wake, Jeannie, darling, you have been wandering in your sleep again ; "tis time your slumbers were safely locked up in my arms. Poor darling, do not look so frightened ! " ''Oh, Paul, I had an awful dream! I thought Satanella stole away your breath by her terrible kisses, and, when I tried to stand between you, she froze my very heart's blood, so that you slipped away in a shroud- like vapour, and were lost to me for ever ; then, I suppose the dream led me here, I must go back.'^ " Not till you are more yourself, darling. How you tremble ! Let me hold your hands. See, the sun is rising to dispel all ghostly vapours, even as our happiness is coming to make us forget past misery ! " ***** How madly, how gladly the bells ring out ! Chime on, mellow joyous notes of gladness, for a seal is set afresh on a fair pure life ! Love is again to be a lawful possession, and the bribe whom the villagers wait to see was born among them, a woman pure and fresh as her own fields, strong and J^- OR, THE POWER OF LOVE, 427 steadfast as the mighty river that rushes for ever on its course, watering her lands on its road to the sea. Never widowed, yet twice wedded ; though twice wedded, possessed by only one husband. So Jean, in her simple dress of spotless white, stood again before God's altar with Paul ; and by her side, haggard and aged though he is by sickness and trouble, Paul looks a fit mate for his winsome bride. Jean is to be married among her own people, where all love and esteem her, then she is to go away to a sunnier land to avoid the chill of winter, for Paul is not yet strong, and Dr. John advises complete change, telling Paul truly he can take his work with him anywhere, for Paul is a successful author, and his wife glories in his fame. The theatre is to be left to Mr. Merrick's care, and Sophy is to take a principal part in his new play. In a dark corner of the church Mrs. Prior sits, her honest old face full of gratitude that her daughter's wicked wishes have borne no worse results. She has come all these miles to bless the bride, and bear back to the lonely grave in the green churchyard flowers that have strewn the path of the newly-blessed pair. Jean hears the service with intent and earnest hope ; her heart does not sink as it did years before in the sombre London church, with Satanella's wicked little laugh echoing in her heart. She even finds it in her to breathe a prayer for the peace of the dead woman, whose sinful love had been such a blight upon her life. They went away with the blessing of friends to follow them; there was not a cloud in their heaven of sunny blue ; the future smiled full of promise, and their hearts beat but with one hope, and that to bring happiness to the other. Felice, now in high favour, was to accompany them with little Pridie, and Jean was at last to carry out her great idea of travel with Paul by her side. Lady Culmore had sent the bride a beautiful pearl cross, and the Duke, with earnest wishes for her future ^— ■ — ■ k 428 BONNIE JEAN ; welfare, had sent liis Qod-speed accompanied by a magnificent set of emeralds. Jean had told Paul all there was to tell about the duke, and Paul had chosen to be a little sarcastic about her engaging herself to one man v/hile married to another, but he had forgiven her, and acknowledged the nobility of her titled lover, whom they came across in early spring at Florence, where he had gone to give away his sister to a grandee. They were a merry party, and Paul began a lifelong friendship with Ormsby, who liked him most for making Jean happy. They parted promising to meet at Deepdane during the month of September, by which time Paul, being now quite himself again, hoped to be able to gather his friends about him for a few weeks' sport. The glorious "First" found Jean in her old home, surrounded by a host of fi*iends. The drawing-room at DeeiDdane was bright with light and life. Jean sat by awindow that opened on to a balcony. The night was warm and still ; a single star sat en- throned in a vast solitude of space. The gentlemen were lingering over their wine. Lady Lyston, in a cloudy dress of silvery silk, with red roses in her breast, sat by the piano accompanying a song for her son, now a jolly Eton lad. Standing by him, with" her plump white arm about his neck, stood his great chum, now Aunt Vi. A group of pretty fresh-faced English girls swarmed over a pile of prints, their bright dresses making a pretty patch of colour in a shady corner. Jean, bright and bonnie as she had never been before, looked towards them, and smiling, said to the handsome sombre-eyed woman by her side : '' Hagar, do you ever regret your lost girlhood ? " " Never ; I am happier now than I have ever been in my life. When I think of my happiness, it seems too vast a possession to hold with such feeble hands as mine. I have suffex'ed and been strong, but joy makes a coward of me. I for one cannot keep a heart for any fate ; if anything came to dim the brightness of my days, I -^ ORj THE POWER OF LOVE. 429 suppose the strength would be given to endure, but I dare not think of it.-" "There is nothing you need dread but death, and that must come to us all. I feel as you describe sometimes ; then I just creep into PauFs arms, and pray j silently that Heaven will allow our happiness to endure. j Paul is quite strong now, better than he ever was in his ; life, and his literary labours give him aim and interest | beyond his home life ; but he will never act again — he i has promised me ; though ho glories in his plays, ho hates the theatre, it brought him nothing but pain, he ? says, so he gave his share to Mr. Merrick, who is still one of the most successful managers. His wife Sophy tells me Lady Dandergard's money has made the Priors quite big people ; that dear old soul, Mrs. Prior, has set aside a certain sum for Satanella's son, and the rest is put into a big charity — a home for girls of all professions who are unfortunate and likely to go from bad to worse. I long to look Mrs. Prior up, and help her in the good work; Paul means to give her the whole proceeds of his next successful play. She is really a wonderful woman for her age, and so sweetly good to her old husband, who is a great invalid. I am afraid I shall soon lose Felice; she is engaged to that good-looking head- gardener ; he is going to start a nursery-ground close by. I hope they will get on. Did you like Bridie's picture in the Academy this year ? " " Yes ; but not better than yours ; both pictures were gems in their way. You must take us to see them presently ; of course they are in the gallery ? " " Yes ; Paul says they make my ancestors look shabby- genteel." There was a hush as the gentlemen entered in a merry crowd, all laughing and talking together. They soon dispersed among the ladies, and Dr. John and the duke came to the window, Paul being detained a second by Mr ^ Brassy, for whom he had conceived a fast friendship. Jean busied herself over her dainty primrose-coloured cups and saucers, that were covered with hand-painted purple pansies. 430 BONNIE JEAN ; The duke stood by her side, watching her slender white hands, and the sweet serene face, tliat was the fairest in the world to him. He had buried his love deep down in his silent heart, and could look upon her without a covetous thought, for the Jean he loved was lost for ever, and in her place bloomed a happy wife and mother, whose whole heart and life was centred in her home. Her husband was his dearest friend ; there was no man under the sun he esteemed or liked better than Paul— Paul who, with such love-lit softened eyes, now looked towards his wife and friend, Mr. Brassy's eyes followed his, and he said heartily : "How well Jean is looking; she is quite her bonnie self again." "Yes she is well and liappy, bless her bonnie face! Come and get some tea, and tell the duke of your project ; he is always ready to take up a good cause." Paul crossed the room, and sat down beside his wife's chair, noticing with an artist's eye the beauty of her fair face, and the soft wavy coils of ruddy-brown hair that crowned her regal little head. He touched her velvet gown wath approving fingers, saying : "What colour do you call this, Jeannie ? It is infinitely becoming; I have never seen you wear it before." "'Tis electric-blue, Paul; I am glad you like it; its great merit is daring simplicity. Did you go into the nursery ? Pridie would not go to sleep till you had said ' Good-night.' " " Yes ; I saw the young rogue riding his bolster round the nursery floor. Felice spoils him terribly." " No worse than you do, Paul ; you always laugh at his tricks." " W ell, he is such an original little imp, one can't help it. Slip away to the balcony soon, pet; I have hardly seen or spoken to you to-day." " You must wait till you smoke your last pipe, Paul, after the folk are in bed. Somehow I've missed you to- day ; we are not used to so much company ; but it is nice to see so many dear old friends, and we shall value our talk the more for waiting." ^ OE, THE POWER OP LOVE. 431 " Sing something, Jean/.' said Hagar. "All, do !" entreated the duke, picking up a book of music; it was tlie very one that he had saug from the night Satanelhi came to Deepdane in the storm. '"jean remembered it as she sat down, and some old feeling or fancy came to her to sing from the opera of "Satanella": " Tliore's a power whose sway Angel souls adore, And file lost obey, Y»'"eeping evermore. Donhti'ul mortals prize Smiles fi-om it above, Bliss that never dies; Such is thy jjower, oh Love ! "' As the song ended, Ptinl, unseen, touched her fair cheek with his lip<=?, and whispered, as he removed the music : " Thanks, Bonnie Jean." THE END. -M NOTICE TO THE READERS OF BONNIE JEAN. STRANGELY !>> -<1 PARTED Win be published In Weekly Numbers, It is oue of tlie best Stories ever written, and should be ordered of your Bookseller without delay, as a g'reat demand is expected. STRANGELY * PARTED. Id. Weekly. 4d. Monthly. BEAUTIFUL COLOURED PICTURES (CRATIS) FOR BINBim WITH THE WORK. NOW READY TO ORDER. ^ — . j^ ^*i