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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1885-2-27, Page 22 THE EARL'S Illi BERTHA 31. CLAY, rtm,ltor oP .Thrown otx (1,0 '•A Minuted ILIA," clo, Y _ dress that tato knows." "Tlitw ho cannot fail to bo ploased with yours;" said Agatha. "It is per- fect ; and yon look well, boettnso you look so perfectly happy." "I am happy," said Beatrice, and there was something almost solemn in her nianner. "Yon cannot suggest any alteration, then, hi my dross or flowers, Hiss Brooke ?" Agatha went rap to the beautiful, young girl. "I can suggest ono thing, Bontrico," she said; "just take a little of your soul nut of your eyes. Lord Kelso has only to look at them to see at once how mach you love him—it is all told thoro." "That ought to be the very right thing," said Beatrice, laughing and blushing; "my oyes must tell him what my lips will always be too shy to uttor." All his welcome is written there," said Agatha, and looking back to the olid days, she wondered if Sir Vane Carlyou had read the same love and greeting in her eyes. "You could not look better, Beatrice," she said slowly. "Go and bo haply, my dear." hiss me," said Beatrice, raising her Lair fr •:i face to that of her companion, and A,. •mderstandiug all tho yearn. ing fe.r ,athy there was in the girl's heart, kissed the fresh young face. "Now go, Beatrice," she said; "Lord Kelso will bo quite impatient." Sho watched the slender, lissom figure, and the pretty, graceful dross ; her heart and thoughts follawwd the young girl; books hal no charm for her that evening. It was the old story over and over again. She wondered that tho sun which shone at noontide, and the moon and stars which shone at night, were not tired of it ; she wondered that the tall trues (lid not shake their branches in utter contempt of it. It was so sweet, so entrancing, yet so Tagno and empty. When did love end in any- thing but pain ? The sweeter it was in the present, tho more bitter in the future. She closed the books, the restless fever woke again in her heart ; no more quiet reading or study for her; her heart beat in great painful throbs, her face flushed. She zimst go out in the. fresh, sweet evening air, It was not an unusual thing for her to do. A. door led from the school -zoom to the grounds, a pretty, quint spot, where the children played under the shade of the groat groan troes. She went out now; nothing but the voice of the wind and the rustle of the river, the light of the moon and the stars ; nothing else could comfort her when these fevers of unrest came over her. It was a lovely moonlight uight, and as she walked quietly to and fro under the shadows of the great tries her mind went back. Ah, incl the repressed passion and pain of that loving heart i Sho was back once moro in fancy at Whitecroft, watching the moon shine on tho old church and on her mother's gravo ; she knew just how the shadows fell over the old house and in tho woods; she wont back again to the .grand old chateau, and saw the moon shining on the mountains and lakes. Where was he?—thio man who had drawn and absorbed her whole life in himself—where was he ?—the man who had taken the light of the sunshine and the beauty of tho mooulight forever from her—whoro was he Looking, perhaps, in some faro fairer than her own, loving some one for whom he cared more than he had (Ivor cared for ler. She had been ono of many to him, ho had been tho only loco of her life. She raised her oyes to the quiet night skies, "Heaven knows," sho said to herself, and the words stillod the restless fever. "Heaven knows I never meant to do wrong." Mon might judgo as thoyliked,Ileavon knew host. Then, under tho influence of the sweet voices of tha night, tho bitterness of pain and the sting of momory passed. Her thoughts went back to the smiling, happy face of Beatrice Penrith. She was with Iter lover now, soatod by bnim, looking et him, listening to him, happy beyond the power of words to tell. \Would it all cud iu misery, or was Beatrice one of the few who wero to be happy on earth and happy in hoavon ? Later on, when the night grow chill and cold, and she had gonnback toher room, sho heard the clear sw•ot,t voice ringing through the house, and she knew that lleatli:e was singing to her lover. Sho did not son her during tho whole of tho next day—a party of visitors had ar- rivod, Lady Penr'th was far too wiso to allow- the lovers to grow tired of each other. She know that a mall like Lord $.also must have amusement, and that tho earnest lova of a girl liko her daughter would soon become monotonous to a man of the work,. With plenty of visitors to holp to amuse him, all would go well, so that Boatrie° was not ablo to pay her usual visits to tho schoolroom, and Agatha had not seen her since tho night on which alio had looked so brilliant and happy until now that slio stood by the window with that shadow on her fano. "Miss Brooke," said Boatrico, plain- tively, "what can it =abbot whether those dear children know the past parti- oiple of the vorb 'To bo' to -delay or to- morrow ? Do leavo them a few minutes, and talk to me. 1 have to go out at noon, and this is the only leisure that I shall have, I want to talk to you," Agatha fanoied she detected a fain sound as of trouble in the aweob voice, She gave the children something bo em. ploy themselves with, and went to Beatrice, who turned to her with a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she said; "you are always kind to ne, Miss Brooke; it is good of you to be so patient with m0, I have no one to whom I can speak of my earl bub you ; I do lot think mamma understauds lova as you 0r I do; she always speaks of wordage as 'con- tracting an alliance, " and a faiub smile curled the girl's lips, "I believe, for the first time in my life, I have a heavy heart, and I want you to tell mo if it is s0." "How can 1 toll you Beatrioo?" asked Agatha, half smiling at the girl's utter simplicity. "Yon know everythiryabout love, aid pain, and happiness," sighed Boatrico ; I know yon have heart -echo, because 1 have rem you w11011 I am sure you havo spent hours in crying. I am afraid buy heart is heavy, and it should not be when buy laver is hero, I de not feel quite like myself; I am more inclined to cry than to laugh ; tiero is some. thing wrong with the aunshino." "And what is the causo?" asked Agatlia. The girl laid her head wearily on. the cold glias, "1 can hardly tell," alto replied. "I talked a great deal with Lord Kelso last night, and there seemed to be such a distance between us. I can Hardly explain what I mean, but it made my heart ache." "A distance between you ? I harshly understand, Beatrice..In what niaun0r?" "You see, Miss Brooke, my life has boon so simple; I have lived under such love and care ; 1 have never been away hum tny parents. There are sins and troubles in the world, but I do not even know thein. I am such a child," she contiiwe,l, passionately—"such a stupid, ignorant, foolish child I while he knows everything. I wish I were more like "What you call ignorance is most probably your greatost charm," said ;1g ttha, "However worldly a man may be himself, he likes an unworldly wooian•"' Her face brightened. "Do you think so? I am so glad. I heard bum talking to mamma—she seemed to understand him—and they laughed. I could never amuse him as site does. Then I asked Kiln why his eyes always wore that melancholy look, and what do you think ho said?" "1 cannot guess, Beatrice." "IIo said 'I did not ]mow that I looked melancholy, Beatrice; I shall not do so when I havo von near mo.' "I persisted. Miss 'Brooke, I said to him, 'It has nothing to do with me ; the first night I saw you the same look was there. Why are you sad when you have everything that this world can giro you ? And this was his answor— this is what ponied me so. 'I have lost something out of ray life,' bo said, 'and life will never be the same again.'' "The strange thing was that he slid not look at me, and seemed to bo speak- ing in spite of himself. When I asked hint what ho had lost out of his life, he soomod confused. 'I talk nonscnso sometimes, Beatrice,' and he would say no more. What do you think ho has lost from his life, Miss Brooke ? My beautiful lover! what can it be?" "Who can say? Perhaps a friendship —a hope—a cherished idea; everybody loses some part of their life. Do not let it trouble you, Beatrice," Thou the lady's maid came to say that she was waiting for Miss Ponrith ; would she be kind enough to come ? "I C.IIAPTEIR LVII. SHOULD LIICL TO KNOW LVBBYTIimNG ABOUT MN," "Should you think, Miss Brooko, that I am jealous?" asked Boatrico, the day following. "No. I have never soeu any sign of it, but I should not wonder much if the earl gave a look, or smile, or whispered word to another, you might be very joalous thou." "Yesterday," sho continued, "Lord Kelso showed us a quantity of line diamonds; he wanted mamma's advico about resetting them—they aro to bo nano. Wo began to talk about jowelry and ornaments, and I had noticed for soma thno that my earl always wears a locket—it is a gold locket, with ono diamond. I asked him to lot mo look at it; ho scorned rather confused, at lust, but I insisted, Yon may look at ovary loalcot I have, I said; why should I not look at yours "Than betook it from his watch -chain and gave it to mo. I opened it, and inside there was a lock of hair—pale, beautiful, golden hair. I could see at moo that it had boon cut from tho head of some fair woman, 1 asked him whose ]lair is this ? aucl ho ausworod— 'it balongad to ono who is now among the angols.' Dead, do you mean ? I asked, `Yes, dead,' ho replied, and his voico was sor- rowful—ah, as the sighing of the wind when tho loaves die. Than an idea Damm to me—he said ho had lost some- thing from his life; ho said also that this hair belonged to some ono who was doad; it soemod to me that ho hactlovtid and lost some boauti£ulwoman, to whom that hair belonged. I can understand what it is to Ito jealous—a pang like no othor pain that .1'. hav° over felt went through my heart." "Yon nmod never be joalous of the doad," said Agatha. "I could notholp it—I—you will think MO solfish, I know, but I could not boar to think that any ono olso had over had a share of his Iloart. 1 could not boar it—living or dead. No woman musb havo any place in his heart but mo." Audit @@Domed to Agatha, as she list- ened to the passionate words, that in a t few short hours Beatrice Penrith had THE RItSSELS POST I'Ennunlll 27, 1885, 11.0 ll 1.4 YR SALE, AT A 13Al1 1111-10S, FLETCHER, Oslo. -Tho farm conialun about 101 00 •oaana 114 within night 01 a t(10110 town in CroyCu, (bond martet, aohaol, elntrolT, Ace. line tical W'ittellntktu' iti l J(t1Y elOO, 'rho r awn S i a ctlangod from a simple, loving (Mild, to a paasioltate, loving woman, "I ant afraid I out not so good as I ought to bo. I know that lie loves mo, and I should bo content; but I am jowl• ons of that part of his lifo in wltioll I have lead no share. 1 should like to know everything about llitu, from the time he nub Began to walk until now, I cannot boar that past in which 1 slid not know him, in which ho had loves and btatas, all dead ]otters to Ane, If there wore ever so many faults 1 would forgive them all ; but mount boar to renumber he has had a past that 1 shall never leo hart of, Do you under- stand, Miss Brooke 1 "Yoe, I undorstand perfectly," she replied. "I knew you would. If I were to talk in this strain to mamma, silo would thin]: me insane. I havo told Lord Kelso everything in my 1ifo—nob that there has boon very much, except, per- haps, about Gerald Leigh. .Ho laughed about (torald, and said that he was tho finest young ollioor in the 90000's army. Ido was hot in the least jealous, as I thought he would be; but when I hall bold hi n everything about n.yscif that I could remember, mid I asl;c,i him to tell me all his life, and everything in it, he looked—wall, I roust say he looked perfectly miserable. " '31y' dearost ]Beatrice,' be answered, 'our lives have mot now like two streams; but the ono is a clear, sweet transparent brook—the other, a muddy river; the brook will purify the river.' Now vAAab could be mean by that ?" "I ahonld think the lives of most mei would i,oro resomble a noddy river than a clear brook," said Agatha. "Per- haps Ito had no particular moaning. You, Beatrice, have known nothing but the beautiful, holy life and lova of home; the earl hall, perhaps, like other poople, gambled a little, drank a little, bet and lost; and now, in the light of oyes so pure and sweet as yours, his errors look vory big and black, inclood—the muddy river, in fact." The bea ntifnl young face brightouad at her words; Beatrice firing her arms round Agatha's neck, and thanked Lor for her sympathy. "I am glad you think so. I could not understand. And you aro quite sore there is not a beautiful woman in it?" "1 cannot bo quito euro," replied Aga- tha, slowly. "But you do not think he has had any other love save me ?" she persisted. "My dearest Beatrice, how eau I toll ? I should most certainly sayethat whatever has been, he loves yon now better than any one in the world ; and if I were you, dear, I would trust him— not even think about his past. Trust him all in all; think of tito pro - sent, and how to make liim most happy —never mind the past." "You do not think—you are so nice, Miss Broolco—you do not think from what I have told you, that he has ever really loved any one else but oto 7" "What doss it matter, Beatrice, if ho loves 100 best now ? No, I do not see anything in what yon have said to in- cluse that belief, llo Happy, and do not make tronble, Beatrice." "Yon have nob seen my earl yet, havo yon, Miss Brooke'?" alta asked. "Not yet," ropliod Agatha. "When you do, you will not wonder that I am just a little jealous. ily only wonder is that every ono does not liko him as much as I do," Agatha laughed. "1t is just as woll as it is," alto re- plied. But when Boatrico, considerably re- lieved and much happier, hastoned away, she folb anxious and depressed. "It would have been much Happier for ]tor had sho fallen iu loco with Ger- ald Leigh," she thought. "In all that sho tells me about Lord Kelso thore is somothing from which my wbolo heart rebels. 1 wish sho had loved Gerald Loigb," Sumo few clays passod. thou, during which sho dick not see Beatrice. The oastlo was full of visitors ; there Ivor° coutinned gayeties—balls, pionies, par- ties of all kinds. Beatrice had only just leisure to run in and speak two or timed words. "I ant so happy!" sho would. say. "Thank Heaven for nue l" And thus° few words always bright- enod the day for Agatha. Tho marriage was ono of .the gonoral topics of conversation, and several par- agraphs concerning it had been publish- ed in the papers. brow people were ignorant of the fact that the Karl of Kelso was to marry the boautiful young rdrhrriarrte of last season—tho daughter of Lord Penrith, Tho preparations for the marriago wont on steadily; Beatrice forgot her doubts; tho oarl no longer wore the looked, with the single Ilia - mond, that held tho polo goldon hair, Tho happy days passod on, mud brought with thorn no clouds. "I wish," said Boatrico, ono morning, "that 1 had studied music more care. fully. I had no idol that the earl on- joyocl it so nodi. I wish I had your talent for it, Miss Brooke." a•n a (l ro• k .11 non rib 1.01, rt I n00008(110 roar of the lot. Low Arlen to the Tis plaisghmd01tokl:usy tty aIrrgne(1aur tmn onmwhia family, Puow11or won11 'sobansa for a 1411)t110r farm in Baron CO, For further pnrtiaulnl 111011y to 11'. AL, liEltn, llrn Nseis, 1}, O. CHAPTER LVIII. "I wlSn r COULD ALWAYS 1377 110NIiTIOIN." "1 think it is aoocl sign whon a man loves music," said Agatha. "Does he sing himself ?" "No ; at loast, I havo nob heard him. You know that we wont to Lissom Priory yesterday, and dinner was do. layod for au hour in consoquonoo. It was the lovely time that poots call the gloaming, when I wont down, and find - mg no ono about, 1 wont to the piano, in the oaken room, and Lord Kelso fol. lowod mo," "That was very natural," laughed Agatha. "It was tho happiest hour of my life," continued Boatrico. "Ino was so hind, so affoctionate to me; and whom ho had boon talking sono littlo time to me, he FOB SALE. Gold Watch eu,s Il r 001.10fed 'W'are, 411 000 Watelen. 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