HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1916-09-07, Page 7September 7, r916
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"I am quite serious," he continued.
"You are so sensitive, so full of hesi-
?fadieen, that, if T leave you, you will
tome to the conclusion that you have
"dome wrong, and will write me a pa-
thetic little letter, and go away,"
' No, I shim not do that," she ob-
served.
"I shall not •give you a chance, my
own; I shall neither rest myself, nor
let, any one else rest until you are my
I will not distress you now by
g about it. I shall go to the
rdgchesa to -day, and tell her that you
ihave relented in my favor at last;
!than you will let us decide for you,
:Madeline, will you not?"
"Yes," she replied, with a smile;
"it would be useless for me to rebel."
'You have made some very fatal ad-
missions," he said, laughingly. "You
have owned that you love me; after
ithat, denial, resistance, coyness; shy-
ness, nothing will avail. Oh, Made-
line, I shall always love this spot
where I won you! I will have a pic-
ture of this Brookside painted some
deee We must go back to the house
'now; but, before we go, make me
:happy; tell me of your own free will
that you love me."
"You know I do. I love you, Nor-
. man—I will say it now—I love you
;len thousand times better than my
life. I have loved yon ever since I
?first saw you; but I was afraid to say.
,so, became of—well, you know why. "
"You are not afraid now, Mader
liner
"No, not now," she replied; '"you
'Lave chosen me from all the world to
'but making y u will think of nothing
"In token of that, kiss me --just
• onee—of your own free will,'•
"No," she refused, with a deep
gblush.
"You will, if you love me," . he
said and then she turned her face to
'Ids. She raised her pure, sweet Iips
to his and kissed him, blushing as
she did so to the very roots of her
* golden hair.
"You must never ask me to do that
•again," she said, gravely.
'No," returned he; "it was so re-
markably unpleasant, Madeline, I
;� •.eonld not wish for a repetition; " and
•*� 'then they went back to the house to-
gether."
"Norman," said Marline, as they
: stood before the great Gothic porch,
"will you wait until to -morrow before
you tell the duchess?"
"No," he laughed, "I shall tell her
'this very day."
CHAPTER XXII.
It was almost noon before Lord
Arleigh saw Philippa, and then it
-struck him that she was not looking
well. She seemed to have lost some of
:her brilliant color, and he fancied she
• was thinner than she used to be. She
;had sent for him to her boudoir.
"I heard that you were inquiring
for me, Norman," she said. "Had you
any especial reason for so doing?'"
'Yes, ' he replied, "I have a most
important reason. But you are not
!'looking so bright as usual, Philippa.
Are you not well."
"The weather is too warm for one
• to look bright," she said; "much sun-
: shine always tires me. Sit down here,
Norman; my rooms looks cool enough,
'Aloes it not?"
In its way her room was a triumph
of art; the hangings were of pale am-
' her and white—there was a miniature
fountain cooling the air with its spray,
• choice flowers emitting sweet perfume.
The fair young duchess was resting
on a couch of amber satin; she held a
richly -jeweled fan in her hands, which
Aha used occasionally. She looked very
charming in her dress of light ma-
terial, her dark Bair carelessly but ar-
tistically arranged. Still there was
itomething about her unlike herself;
her lips were pale, and her eyes had
to them a strange, wistful expression.
Norman took his seat near the little
/couch.
I have come to make a confession
4hilippa," he began.
"So I imagined; you look *ere
sguilty. What is it?".
'"I have found my' ideal. T love ler,
ache loves me, and I want to marry
ilei.,,
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find I atn tied '1 did "for the pain in my
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The pallor of the lovely lips deep-
ened. For a few minutes no sound was
heard except the falling of the spray
of the fountain, and then the Duellers
of Hazlewood looked up and said:
to"W y do you make this confession
Norman?"
"Because at concerns sorne one in
whorri you are interested. It is Mads -
line whom I love, Madeline whom I
wish to marry, But that is not straw°
news to you, I am sure, Philippa."
Aa_aira there was a brief silence, and
then the duchess said in a low voice;
"You must admit that I warned
yon. Norman, from the very first."
He raiaed his head proudly.
"You warned me. I do not under-
stand."
"1 kept her out of your sight. I told
you it would be better for you not to
see her. I advised you, did I near
She seemed rather to be pleading in
self-defense than thinking of him.
"But, my dearest Philippa, I want
no warning—I am very happy as to
the matter I have nearest my heed. I.
thank you for bringing my s*eet
M^•'nl;n" hare. You do not seem to
understand?"
She looked at him; earnestly.
"Do you love her so very mueli,
Norman?"
"I love her better than any words
of mine can tell," he said. "The mo-
ment I Haw her first I told you. my' '
dream was realized—I had found my
ideal. I have loved her ever since."
"How strange t" murmured the
duchess.
"Do 'ion think it strange? Bemeat-
ber how fair and winsome she is --
how sweet and guileless. I do not
believe there is any one Iike her."
The white hand that held the jewel-
ed fan moved more vigorously.
"Why do you tell me this, Norman?'
What do you wish me to do?"
"Yon have always been so kind to
me," he said; "you have ever been
a. sister, my best, dearest, truest
friend. I could not have a feeling of
this kind without telling you el 1R.
Do you remember how yon need to
tease me about my ideal? Neither of
us thought in thoee days that I should
find her under your riot"
"No," said the duchess, quietly; "it
is very strange."
"Ldespaired of winning Madeline,"
he continued. "She had suck strange
ideas of the wonderful distance be-
tween us—she thought so mneh mese
of me than of herself, of the honor
of my family and my name—that, to
tell you the truth, Philippa. I thought
I should never win her consent to be
my wile "
"And you have won it at last," she
put er. with quiet gravity.
"Yes—at last. This morning she
promised to be my wife."
The dark eyes looked straight into
his own.
"It is a miserable marriage for you,
Norman. Granted that 'Madeline has
duty, grace, purity, she is without
lortune, connection, position. You, an
Arleigh of Beechgrove, ought to do
better. I 'am speaking as the world
will speak. It is really a wretebied
marriage."
"I can afford to laugh at the world
and please myself in the choice of a
wife. There are certain circumstances
under Which I would not have mar-
ried any one; these circumstances do
not
surround u m ' b .
She
atandB
out clear and distinct
darling.
asga bright jew-
el from the rest of the world. To -day
she promised to be my wife, but she
is so sensitive and hesitating that I
am almost afraid I shall lose her even
now, and I want to marry her as soon
as I can."
"Bei who." again .asked the duch-
ess, "do you tell me this?"
"Because it concerns you most near-
ly. She lives under your hoof -she is,
in some measure, your protege.
"Vere will be very angry when he
hears of it," said the duchess. And
thee Lord Arleigh looked up praud-
"I do hot see why he should. It is
certainly
busiese Wil think i oosirange."
'It is no stranger thin any other
mcrriaee; ' than—Lord Arleigh. "Philip.
pa, you disappoint me. I expedited
eympa by st least !::rata your"
The tone of his voice was so full of
pain that she looked up
"Tin not think the unkind, Ferreira.
You could not eitpeet any true friend
Of pours to l,e very} delighted at etch
o marriage as this. could your It-
eeen,ed es ;though she knew and un-
derstood Met'c;'posftiort made his rem
phut steem only the dearer to hon.
"Still I have no wish to tail in sytin-
pathy. Madeline is vety lovely And
very w itinirtg- I have a great effete -
lien for her --sand i think—nay, I •dem
quite trams -that she fares you very
dearly."
" ad., ib bertierthat is MOO like
your own sell, Philippa. You need to
be above all ebnventiooality. I knew
that in the depths of your roes
heart you woenlct be pleased tot your
old friend to be haWpy at last—and T
ebedl be WOO. Phililipa. You wish
ate well. do you noir
Her lips teemed bard and dry as
>> r
"Yeti, I With you Breit"
"What I 'writhed to bonssalt effra
about is my marriage. It trust ,
Awake Plate :bale., •eft . use. I t-
..
rel ;
wtltytlTr And think i t .. t�at
the duke does not to have lie attention attention draealn in any way. b
Mutdr.linet. We ell like to keep our lit,
tie family secrete; consequently I
have thought a a plan Wfsioh I boo
liege will meet all the difieultios of
the tWi ire "
The nolle- of the duchess' face deerie-
ertZL.
"lee you faint or in, Philippa?"he
asked, wondering at her strange ap-
pearance.
"No," she replied, 'it is only the
heat that affects me. Qo on with your
story, Norman; it interests me."
"That is like my dear old friend
Philippa. I thought a marriage from
here would not do --it would entail
publicity and remark; that none of
us would care for—besides, there
could hardly be a marriage under
your auspices during the absence of
th' duke."
"No, it would hardly be en regle,"
she agreed.
"But," continued Norman, "if Lady
Peters would befriend me—if she
would eo away to some quiet sea -side
place, and take Madeline with her—
then, at the end of a fortnight, I
might join them there, and we could
be married, with every due obser-
vance of eonventionalits.- but without
calling undue nubile attention to the
ceremony. Do you not think that a
good plan, Philippa?"'
"Yes," she said slowly.
"Look interested in it, or you will
mar my happiness. Why, if it were
your marriage, Philippa, I ahould
consider every detail of high import-
ance. Do not look cold or indifferent
about it."
She roused herself with a shudder.
"I am neither cold nor indifferent,"
she said --"on the contrary, I am vi-
tally interested. You wish me, of
course, to ask Lady Peters if she will
do this?"
"Yes, because I know she will re-
fuse you nothing."
"Then that is settled," said the
duchess. "There is a pretty, quiet
little watering -place called St. Mil-
dred's—I remember hearing Vere
speak of it last year—which would
meet your wishes, I think., if Lady
Peters and Madeline consent."
"1 am sure they will consent," put
in Lord Arleigh, hopefully.
"There is another
be
thought of," added the duchess--"a
trousseau for the fair young bride."
Yes, I know. She will have every
fancy gratified after our marriage,
but there wilt not be time for much
preparation before it."
"Let me be fairy -godmother," said
the duchess. "In three weeks from to-
day I_ engage to have such a trousseau
as has rarely been seen. You can add
dresses and ornaments to it after-
ward."
"You are very good. Do you know,"
he said, "that it is only now I begin
to recognize my old friend? At first
you seemed so unsympathetic,. so cold
—now
oshayror etre my sisterthe Philippa,
s and sorrows.
We had no secrete hen we were chil-
dten."
"No," she agreed, mournfully,
"none."
"And we have none now," he said,
with a happy laugh. "How astonish-
ed Vere will be when he returns and
finds that Madeline is married!
'And 1 think that, if it can be all ar-
ranged without any great blow to his
family pride, he will not be ill -pleas -
"I should think not," she return-
ed, listlessly.
"And you, Philippe --you will ex-
tend to my beloved wife ,the friend-
ship and affection that you have given
to mer"
-Yea
alio
replied,
absently.
"Continue to be her fairy -godmo-
ther. There is no friend who can do
as lou can do. Yon will be Madeline's
abeet-anchor and great
She turned away
with a aPudder*
"Philippa," be. continued, "will you
Diet me send Lady Peters to you now,
that I may know as soon as possible
whether she consenter'
"You can send her if you will, Nor -
Was it his fancy, or did he really,
as he stood at the door, hear a deep,
heart -broken sigh? Did her voice, in
'a sad, low'wau7., come to hire—"Nor-
! nem, Norman r
He earnest quickly, but she seemed
already to have forgotten him, and
'Seas looking through the open win -
'Wee it his faney again, when the
door bred closed, or did she really cry
.a.".r.3Lelu�ma+ti r' He opened the door
"Did you call me, Philippa," be
'ek""r� o," she replied; and he went
iaway.
I do not urtderatend it" he
Nought: "there is something not quite
?Wipes is not Iike herself.'"
n he went in Dearth, of. Lady Pe -
Ours, wham be bewildered and as-
,1sw.reled by ''ieihing her that it lay in
boa power
Marlto Make him the 'happiest
N 'llasi is .?hist teen eat, when they
erhske an oiler of marriage, she obp-
'asrw.d; "and I alt sure you are not
e'hamt to snake one to Me."
'Inca bat, dear Lady Peters, I leant
lo helix toe matey some enc else.
. an you go to the duehaest She will
;hfilan itn
Int tall sane
''�Pf� jAoni;rhtelf?" Me
' SIM hid better posters of persue -
he replied. r�
i "!len Ieafaid
twat& p,-.
asWeasiss in requeeedt, that some-
'lady Pekes&"I chi ilia rna tae whn
Men
en who lane b rely w}+Ksu
4b yacht*. Irak i kw selxMirr to -asea ieN-
aloot�ythehtiog boa
In do with tmefirettleie he sari.
he
5c dtoake Oe animal 114
eau. With al! my begirt T ba+deoh yea
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rs.
H'e Thaw-Nis-iaihip,,;oiue neat' and
kissed her hand. Tears of emotion
rose to the lady's oyes.
"Ie it something for you, Lord Ar-
leigh?" she asked.
Yes," he replied, "for my own un-
worthy self."
"Then I will do it if possible," she
replied. - -
But when the Duchess of Hazle-
wood had told her what was needed,
and had placed the whole matter be-
fore her. Lady Peters looked shock-
ed.
"My dear Philippa," she said, "this
is terrible. I could not have believed
it. She is lovely, graceful, pure -mind-
ed girl, I know; but such a marriage
for an Arleigh ! I cannot believe it."
"That is unfortunate," said her
grace, dryly, "for he seems very much,
in earnest.
"No money, no rank, no con-
nection, while he is one of the finest
matches in England!"
"She is his ideal," was the mocking
reply. "It is not for us to point out
def ieneies"
Butcwhat,will the duke say?" in-
quired her ladyship, anxiously,
'"I do net suppose that he will be
very much surprised. Even if he is, he
will have had time to recover from his
astonishment before he returns. The
duke knows that 'beauty leads man
at its will.' Few can resist the charm
of a pretty face."
"What shall I dor' asked Lady
Peters, hopelessly, "what am I to
say?"
"Decide for yourself. I. decline to
offer any opinion. I say simply that
if you refuse he will probably ask the
favor of some one else."
"But do you advise me to consent,
Philippa?" inquired Lady Peters,
anxiously.
"I advise you to pleaae yourself.
Had he asked a similar favor of me,
1 might have granted or I might have
refused it; I cannot say."
"To think of that simple fair -faced
girl being Lady Arleigh!" exclaimed
Lady Peters. "I suppose that I had
better consent, or he will do some-
thing more desperate. Ile is terribly
in earnest, Philippa."
"He is terribly in love," said the
duchess, carelessly; and then Lady
Peters decided that she would accede
to Lord Arleigh's request.
CHAPTRR XXIII.
More than once during the week
that ensued after his proposal of mar-
riage to Madeline, Lord Arleigh look-
ed in wonder at the duchess. She
seemed so unlike herself—absent,
brooding. almost sullen. The smiles,
the animation, the vivacity, the wit,
the brilliant repartee that had dis-
tinguished her had all vanished.
More than once he asked her if she
was ill; the answer was always "No."
More than once he asked her if she
was unhappy; the answer was always
the _..i"
"Yon are miserable because your
husband is not here," he said to her
one day, compassionately. "If you
had known how much you would have
mused him, you would not have lot
him go."
There Was a wondrous depth of pain
in the dark eyes raised to his.
"I wish he had not gone," she said;
"from .the vein dept s...Q_raYeheart I
modwassimiiimmamismama
The Army of
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Grswttas Smalley 'teary bay.
CARTER'S U'J<TL!e
LIVER PI113 sea
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'drr%il ^fill, Olen Data, Small Paola
Gemlike must beer Signature
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'age 7
wish 'tha£. *Thee. see setened-wo re-
cover her natural gayety. "I do not
know, though, why I should have; de-
tained him," she said, half laughing-
ly. "He is so fond of yachting."
"nsYo.,'u must not lose all your spirits
before he returns, Philippa, or he will
say we have been but sorry guar-
dia
"No one hes ever found fault with
my, spirits before," said the duchess.
"You are not complimentary, Nor-
m.,.
"You gave me such a strange im-
pression," he observed. "Of course it
is highly ridiculous, but, if I did not
know you as well as I do, I should
think
that
o hadsomething
uon
your mind, some secret that was ak-
ing you unhappy—that there was a
struggle always going on between
something you would like to do and
something you are unwilling to do.
It is an absurd idea, I know, yet it
has taken possession of me."
She laughed, but there was little
music in the sound.
"What imaginative power you have,
Norman! You would make your for-
tune as n novelist What can I have
to be unhappy about? Should you
think that any woman in this world
has a lot more brilliant than mine?
See how young I ani for my position
—how entirely I have my own way
Could any one, do you think, be more
happy than I?"
"No, perhaps not," he replied.
So the week passed, and at the end
of it Lady Peters went with Madeline
to St. Mildred's. At first the former
had been unwilling to go—it had
seemed to her a terrible mesalliance;
but, woman-like, she had grown in-
terested in the love-story—she had
learned to understand the passionate
love that Lord Arleigh had for his
fair-hathem,ired bride. A breath of her own
youth swept over her as she watched
It might be a mesalliance, a bad
match, but it was decidedly a case of
true love, of the truest love she had
ever witnessed: so that her dislike
to the task before her melted away.
After all, Lord Arleigh had a per -
feet right to please himself—to do as
he would; if he did not think Mada-
line's birth placed her greatly be-
neath him, no one else need suggest
such a thing. From being a violent
opponent of the marriage, Lady Pe-
ters became one of its most strenuous
supporters. So they went away to St.
Mildred's where the great tragedy of
Madaline's life was to begin.
On the morning that she went away,
the duchess sent for her to her room.
She told her all that she intended
doing as regarded the elaborate and
magnificent trousseau preparing for
her. Madeline was overwhelmed.
"You are too good to me," she said
— "you spoil me. How am I to thank
yo\r,
"'.our wedding -dress --plain, simple,
but rich, to suit the occasion—will be
sent to St. Mildred's," said the duch-
ess—"also a handsome traveling cos-
tume; bat all the rest of the packages
can be sent to Beechgrove. You will
need them only there."
Madeline kissed the hand extended
to her.
I shall never know how to thank
you," she said!
A peculiar smile came over the
darkly -beautiful face.
"I think you will," returned the
duchess. "I can imagine what bless-
ings you will some day invoke upon
my name."
Then she withdrew her hand sud-
denly from the touch of the pure
sweet lips.
"Good-bye, Mgadaline," she said;
and it was long before the young gist
saw the fair face of the duchess again.
Just as she was quitting the room
Philippa placed a packet in her hand.
"You will carefully observe the di-
rections given in this?" she said; and
Madeline promised to do so.
The time at St. Mildred's soon pass-
ed. It was a quiet, picturesque vil-
lage, standing at the foot of a green
hill facing the bay. There was little
to be seen, except the shining sea and
the blue sky. An old church, called
St. Mildred's, stood on the hill -top.
Few strangers ever visited the little
watering -place. The residents were
people who preferred quiet and beau-
tiful scenery to everything else. There
was a. hotel called the Queen's, where
the few strangers that carne mostly
resided; and just facing the sea stood
a newly -built terrace of houses called
Sea View, where other visitors also
sojourned.
It was just the place for lovers'
dreams—a shining sea, golden sands,
white cliffs with little nooks and bays,
pretty and shaded walks on the hill-
top.
Madeline's greet happiness was de-
lightful to see. The fair face grew
radiant in ifs loveliness; the blue
eyes shone brightly. There was the
delight, too, every day of inspecting
the parcels that arrived one after the
other; but the greatest pleasure of all
was afforded by the wedding -dress It
was plain, simple, yet, in its way, a
work of art --a rich white silk with
little lace of trimming, yet looking so
like a weddin .dress that two one
could mistake it. There were snowy
gloves and shoes --in feet everything
was perfect, y Do common
taste, se o tno ed billiberal hand.
Was it foolish of her to kiss the white
folds while the tears filled her eyes,
and to think to herself that she was
the happiest ereature under the sun?
Was it foolish of her to touch the
Pretty beided robes with soft, Ceres -
ding fingers, as though they weft
Mute living thing that she loved• --to
piaeae them Where the lsunbeanmi tel
en them. to meagre then in every
different fad and arrangement?
Then the eventful day
Arleigh and Maclaine were to be sr -
lied at On eariralrillour,
"Net," said M"that there is any..needdffor�
menti --why should there b --belt yogi
bee, Lady Peters, if it ate known that
it was my wedding -day, I have so
many friends, so Many relatines, that
privacy would be impcionblie for oral
therefore the world hart het beim en-
lightened as to when I intended to
claim my darling for nay Own.
"It is s s a
Atiettlt.,"" *beet Lady ie "the
fiat of its kind, i 0211 etti'ie5.. Hat 1
Chink3+wn 'are right—YOU pt n fr
All the eetwaard shot! n t at She
weekhih g sosm isated in the � rh its-
iiati of s eeaafiage froth the the liar
P
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The Proprietary of PatentMedicise t'
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s i mi l a t i ne t he Toa d ae d llegu!e•
ting the Stomachs and Doweled:
Promotes lligeslion,Cheerfut
nes s and RestContainsneittkr
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bo fSour omach DiCacrhnest;
Worrns, Feverishnessand
pae5impile�5ienaatU of i
THE CENTAUR COMPANY. W Y
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At.b month's old
Dosis'35cENT
Enact Copy of Wrapper.
CASTOR'
For Infants and Children.
Mothers Know That
Genuine Castoria
Always
Bears the
Signature
of
In
Use
For Over,
Thirty Years
CA$TORIA'
?He CeRNTAY]" COMPANv. AMY/ v*., 61'rY-
Tad x -one young• fair, "aiann;iCg as -it
spring morning, the other older,
graver, and more sedate.
The young girl was fair and sweet,
her golden hair shining through the
marriage vein, her blue eyes wet with
unshed tears, her face flushed with
daintiest roae-leaf bloom.
It was a pieasaut spectacle to see
the dark, handsome face of her lover
as he greeted her, the love that shone
in his eyes, the pride of his manner,
as the ale world, he would lace kitr before
it to pro -
dace one so3'
graceful or so fair. Lady
Peters' face softened and her heart
beat as she walked up to the altar
with them. This was true love.
So the grand old words of the mar-
riage -service were pronounced—they
were promised to each other for bet-
ter for worse, for weal for woe—never
to part until death parted there --to
be each the other's world.
It was the very morning for a bride.
Heaven and earth smiled their bright-
est, the sunshine was golden, the ata-
tunm flowers bloomed fair, the ea-
tremn foliage had assumed its rich
hues of orimeon and of burnished
gold, there was a bright light over the
sea and the hill -tops.
Only one little contretemps happen-
ed at the wedding. Madeline smiled at
it. Lord Arleigh was too happy evert
to notice it, but Lady Peters grew
pale at the occurrence; for, aceording
to her old-fashioned ideas, it augured
±I1.
Just as Lord Arleigh was putting
the ring on the finger of his fair
young bride, it slipped and fell to
the ground. The church was an old-
1ashioned one, and there were graves
and vaults all down the aisle. Away
rolled the little golden ring, and when
Lord Arleigh stooped down he could
not see it. He was for some minutes
searchingfor
o it, and then he found
it—it had rolled into the hollow of a
Dirge letter on one of the level grave-
stones.
Involuntarily he kissed it as he
lifted it from the ground; it was too
cruel for anything belonging to that
fair young bride to have been brought
into contact with death. Lady Peters
noted the little incident with a shud-
der, Madeline merely smiled. Then
the ceremony was over—Lord Arleigh
and Madaline were man and wife
They walked out of the church to-
gether, and when they stood in the
sunlight he turned to her.
"My darling, my wife," he said. in
an impassioned voice, "may Heaven
send to us a life blight as this sun-
shine, love as pure—life and death
together! I pray Heaven that no
deeper cloud may come over our lives
than there is now in the sky above
us."
These words were spoken at only
eleven in the morning. If he hod
known alt that he would have to suf-
ier before eievexn at night, Lard Ar-
leigh, 'With all his 'bravery, all his
chivalry, would have been ready to
fling himself from the green hill -top
into the 'Orienteering sea.
t+t1A.Prat xxrv.
It was the custom of the Arieighs
to spend their honeymoon at home;
they had never fallen into the hahit
of making themselves uncomfortable
Abroad. 'The proper piece, they cons
siderod. tot a man to take his young
wife to, was home; the first Loud Ar-
leigh hod done rte, and each lord had
followed this Meaihle example. True,
he had planned with his fair young
bade that when the tram= months
peened away M cold the would m
mid., f gangland. They had talk-
ed of the cities they would visit
and Madonnei's sweet eyes had grown
brighter with happy tbotgbte- Birt
ilia was tact to be yet; they were 16
go bosue fret. and 'ohm they had
learned beienoihing of 'wehal biwne life
would be together, then they could go
Abrood.
Lady Prime wont bad to Verdun
Withthe �'n
her teifik
ens tank
beak With bei iinautagereies laeltagee
let-the-lirtdxilre , .Ar, ehJdott2iLAtc i�4t
riTrriat e ncen eerie—asenleiie- gitfeed"wev
demonstration—took the young wife
into her arms.
"Good-bye, Madatine---or I should
say now, Lady Arleigh—good-bye, am!
may Heaven bless you! I did not love
you at first, my dear, and I thought
my old friend was doing a foolish!
thing; but now I love you with an;
my heart; you are so fair and wise, so
sweet and pure, that in making you
his wife he has chosen more judio-
iously than if he had married the
daughter of a noble house. That is
my tribute to you, Madeline; and to
it I add, may Heaven bless you and
send you a happy life!"
Then they parted; but, as she went.
home through all the glory of the
sunlit day, Lady Peters did not feel
quite at ease.
I wish." she said to herself, "'that
he had not dropped the wedding -rings
it has made me feel uncomfortable."
Bride and bridegroom had one of the
blithest, happiest journeys ever made.
What cloud could rise in such a sky as
theirs? They were blessed with youth,.
beauty, wealth; there had been no
one to raise the least opposition to
their marriage; before them stretched
a long golden future.
The carriage met them at the sta-
tion; it was the three in the after-
noon, and the day continued fair.
"We will have a long drive through
the park, Madeline," said Lord Ar-
leigh. "You will like to see your neer
home."
So, instead of going direct to the
mansion, they turned off from the
main avenue to make a tour of the
park.
"Now I understand why this place
is called Beechgrove," said Madeline,.
soddenly. "1 have never seen such.
trees in my life."
She spoke truly. Giant beech -tree
spread out their huge boughs on all
sides. They were trees of which any -
man would have been proud, because
of their beauty and magnificence.
Presently from between the trees she
saw the mansion itself. Lord Arleigh
touched his young wife's arm gently.
"My darling," he said, "that 10
home."
Iter face flushed, her eyes bright-
ened, the sensitive lips quivered.
"Home 1" she repeated. "How sweet
the word sounds to me!" With a`treal-
ulous smile she raised her fair farac
to his. "Norman,' she said, "do yens
know that 1` feel very moth es Ledy
Burleigh, the wife of Lord
of Stamford -town, must have felt."
"But you, Madeline;" he lau0. oed.
"are not quite the supple maiiaeb--
he wool and won. You have tk
high -bred grace of a lady—nothing
could rob you of that_"
"She must have been lovas"ant
greetwfel to have won Lord Bordeigti.
she remarked.
"Peithaps so, bat not like yon, Macke
line --there has never been arty two
Iike you. I shall feel tempted to
call you 'Lady Burleigh.' Hone was
are at home; and, oh, my wife, my
darling, how sweet the coming horse
The tnrriaee stopped at the grand:
entrain*. ahing *Ware lona r our
wife all fa and +en'ibetrassete n4
Lord Arleigh had not dispatched the
mows of his marriage home, so .thirst
no one at Iletwele rove expected to see
rade Arleigh. He sent at oracle fon
the housekeeper, a tall; stately dame„
who ewe into the dining -room. Inek-
ing in un+ntteirable eramatont et the
beeaitifnl, bluathing young face.
""Mrs Cl tanner au," he Mid, "I wifili
to 'Behoduoe yott to my 'Wife, Lady Ar-
leigh." i
The Mindy deem ecier keted *ktsce1
to the ground.
'Welcome horn. fel lady'," the
end deforeatiMly. Ii I bad iri[gbwnte
tbat fMsrdb nofie.
t
`liathiieg Medd be iaett r --ydk' ham;
esietenthingin admi able Melee ,'" tee
aitreteled , Atiea h, itikfdlyr. .
Then a Tamale l e petr lWON
a bow to herr treifiter.
did !chow that yoe **f 1101 tlef
rima batldrd.".' she eYnard., r
Kiel Bo CoN ftuED.j,, y ., a