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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1887-9-16, Page 7Si 'T. 16, 1887 PUT ASUNDER; OR, Lady Castlemaine's Divorce 1 By BEI1THA L CLAY, AIMU0A or ""A Miaowed 1Afe, " "The Iserna Atone. swam,""A Straggle for a 1Ciafg," etc., Ole., me, apt friend. Isabel's quick aye noted the shadow that evening on the face of the man oho loved with such an evil love. "IIe must learn to quarrel with his wife and not fool unhappy over it, before I can do anything with him," she said to herself. "But I am getting on, I am making progress, the love spell is broken —they have quarreled. I have inserted the thin end of the wedge." Seeing Lord Castlemaine alone on the balcony, she went out to him. "Do you find the rooms warm ?" she said. "Yes, unusually so," be replied, "but the night air is beautiful." "I will join you," sho said, and she et;epped from the drawing -room to the balcony, "You have the best of it," she said, "You have the moonlight and the fresh air all to yourself." She went up to him and stood by his side. There could be nothing on earth more beautiful than this radiant woman with the moonlight on hor face and the rose -gleams of her dress. "You seem out of spirits to -night," Lord Castlemaine," she said. Then she laughed to herself a low, rippling laugh that was like music, and roused him from his reverie. "What is it—what are yon laughing at, Miss Hyde ?" he asked. "An idea that is probably a very absurd one," she answered; "but I was just thinking that a husband and wife ought to be equally balanced, like a pair of scales," "In what way ?" he asked. "In the way of spirits. If one is dull and depressed, the other should be the same ; if one is bright and cheerful so should the other be." "And is not that generally the case ?" he asked. "No," she replied. "It should be, but it is riot. I was thinking of the difference between you and Gertrude to -night. You look dull and preoc- cupied ; she is more cheerful—nay, more brilliant, even then I have known her before." T'Is she—so happy—tonight?" he asked, slowly. "Yes. 'like to sae Gertrude happy; she is doubly beautiful when she is bright." He tbott'ght to himself, sadly, that it was stha'isge sho should be so happ and gl'adtidne when she was not friend- ly with him. 'slue can be bright," he thought, "tie eau I. At least, I oar be as in- dependent of her as she can possibly be 'arm." IHe threw off his gloom and reserve, 'and the lines of the old ballad came to his mind— "If she be not fair to me, What care I how fair sae be ?" If his wife oared to be brilliant, apo bright, when she was not friendly with him, why should he care ? If she could impress upon others her gayety and high content, when he and she passed without speaking, why should he re- spond. While the moon shone on the beauti- ful face of the woman who was luring him to his ruin, he talked to her in a fashion nearer approaching to flirtation than he had ever done before. CHAPTER XX. "KISS AND HE VRIB 7De." "We shall never quarrel again, shall we, Rudolph'?" asked Lady Castle - main ; for by some means or other a reconoiliatien had taken place between husband and wife. "No, my darling," he replied, "never." "I was miserable while I was out sof patience with you, Rudolph." And the white, jeweled bands car- essed his 'face, the sweet lips kissed him, and the sweet eyes rained smiles and kindness upon him. "I was wretched, too," he said. "I cannot imagine how 'we could be so foolish." They were•in the,protty conservatory, where the brght May sun would find its way and fall on'the 'tare and wetly blossoms. No flower there was so fair and sweet as the face of the woman who was clinging, with kisses, and tears, and smilos,+round her husband's neck. With that beautiful figure in his arms, with those •sweet lips caressing him, and the White, tender arni laid around his neck, "Lord Castlemaine could mot imagine how he had ever quar- reled with his wife. "Rudolph," she said, after a few Minutes, "do you •remember that con- versation of ours about the death of loved" '" 1 remember it well," ho replied. 'And' you said, darling, that when We people .had the same faults, and bad" but little 'toleration for each other, dove soon died. I am afraid, at times, tthat'is how our love will be, When I 'tum proud and unforgiving you are the •same. It does not matter much now ,rthat our quarters are over trifles ; but if 'ever we dispute over anything serious, 'what will become of us 1' "I eat tell you," he replied, gloom'ly. "If ever any serious quarrel came be- 'tween us we should break each other's 'heart. Those who lova most, hate most. We have the same fauna ; we should torture each other to death." ,u florin wo must be careful not to quarrel. I caned imagine love like ours turned into hate." "Can you not ?" he said, gloomily, "I oaa, Yon may be quite. sure of ono ithing, Gertrude—if we really quarreled, it would be with twice the malice and vehemenoe andbibtorness of people who love each other less than wo do. We should end by growing orudi to each other," "I do nob believe it," she said, who knew everything by theory and little by experience. "It is true, my darling. You know that great truth in science—extreme heat resembles cold; so, in the warmth of love, it seems to me, there is some- thing of the gold of cruelty. I have this certain feeling myself—that I could be cruel to one whom I loved des- perately. I have heard others say the same thing. Ah, Gertrude, darling, we will not havo this cruelty in love, we will be on the safe side," "I think you are right," she said, clasping her white arms more tightly around His neck. "Though I love you so dearly, butter than anything in this world, better than life itself, yet if I were angry with you I could be cruel to you." "And I to you;" he said. "The thing is to avoid quarreling." "Rudolph," she said, "do you believe that cruelty is inherent in every one, lies in every heart, lies innate in every nature 1" "I have often thought so. Those who love each other have often pursued each other with most vindictive hatred. Moat boys delight in cruelty; there are few exceptions. The difference is that the boy kills butterflies, stones cats and dogs, while the grown men break wo- mon's hearts." "You are not cruel'" she said; "you world never have done any of these things." "No," he replied, slowly; "I do not remember that Idid ; but then I was sensitive—I could not bear to inflict pain on anything created. I am more cruel as a man than I was as a boy. If you, my best beloved one, did me an injury —hurt me, defied rue—I could be cruel to yon, because my love would be so cruelly outraged ; that is how it is. But we need not discuss the question any further; there will never be another quarrel." • And this reconciliation was so sweet ; it was like a renewal of the happy days of courtship. Isabel only smiled. when she saw it. There would be a greater quarrel soon, and it would not be so easily healed; and she was right. The second quarrel was more violent, was of longer duration, was more diffi- cult to heal, and the reconciliation was less sweet, less easily brought about. Drop by drop the falling waters wear the stone ; little by little the brook runs into the river; one by one the leaves fall, until there are none left. So, little by little, always by a treacherous enemy, the quarrels and want of har- mony between husband and wife are in- creased. They had married from pure love, not from any idea that they were suitable to each other ; they had never in the least degree studiedleaoh other's disposition, and now that they began each to make the discovery of the other's faults, neither had the patience or forbearance to put up with them. "I had no idea that Rudolph was so impatient," said Lady 'Castlemaine in one of her unfortunate confidences to Isabel. Miss Hyde laughed. "That is not impatience," she an- swered, "It is the Castlemaine tem- per." "Why eheuld the Castlemaines have a temper .different from other people's ?" asked Lady Castlemaine. "I do not think itdiffers from others," Isabel replied, with a laugh, "only that it is just'a trifle worse. My aunt, Lady Cresson, knew your husband's father - 1 think he was an admirer of hers—and I have heard her say there are things peculiar to the Castlemaines—their temper, their good looks, and their diamonds." "The temper of a whole line of an- teaters would not affect me," said Ger- trude ; and she made a moat unfortunate resolve in that moment. It was that she would never yield to these tempers, or take them into consideration. If bad tamper was one of the oharacteristice of the antiquity of the race, why, thank Heaven, the came of a modern family. The day after this conversation hue- band and wife were both together in the room that Lord Castlemaine liked best in the house—his wife's boudoir. Isabel Hyde was present.; . "X should like luncheon an hour later today, Gertrude," said her husband. "Will it inconvenience you?" There was something in his tone of voice, she could hardly tell what, that she resented; and never having learned the leastself-control, she did resent it. "It will not inconvenience me," she replied. "From the tone of your voice I should imagine that it will be inconvenient for some one." "The Castlemaine temper is rising," thought Gertrude; "but I never mean to be frightened at it, or to let ib daunt me' "It is inconvenient for the household," sho said, carelessly; and the Castle. maine tamper rose again. "Do you think that I am to consult the household before I make an appoint• merit?" be asked, angrily. A mild answer, a kind word, would have turned aside all his anger, • and would a ado have h m him bond down and kiss his wife's faoe. A careless retort made him more angry still. "X should think that every master of a house would think twice before he .'hanged the arrangements of hie house THE BRUSSELS POST foraiiay." do not sae it," he said, shortly. "I do," she replied. • "I decline to study the convenience of my servants in such an absurd fashion as that, You have no objection your- self, Gertrude ?" "Not in the least," she said. "All hours ate the same to me." "And you, Miss Hyde 9" be added, "I would go without luncheon to oblige you, Lord Castlemaine." Then for the first time a wish half crossed his mind that Gertrude were more amiable, more like Isabel Hyde. "Thank you," be said, simply, as he quitted the room. "So that is the Castlemaine temper," said Gertrude. "Well, if fools trace their ancestry to apes the Castlemaines must trace theirs to bears." Which speoah Isabel Hyde was care. ful to report to Lord Castlemaine— ander a solemn promise of secrecy—aa an excellent jest, but he did not see it quite in that light. Temper, pride, impatience lay between them, but up to this time there had been no jealousy. There had been no cause for any ; but Isabel Hyde, after a careful study of both oharaoters had come to the conclusion that it was jealousy she must work upon. It was latent in all the Castlemaines, it seamed to go naturally with their dark, proud beauty, just as it did with the warm, passionate hearts and angry tempers. Some strange stories were told in the annals of the family, of punishment given by jealous husbands to their wives. Charles II. smiled on beautiful Lady Edelgitha Castlemaine, and her angry husband took her off to Heath Abbey and kept her there. No more going to court for him. Lady Barbara Castlemaine was weak enough to admire very enthusiastically, a hand- some and romantic young Italian tenor, and her husband did just the same thing, he parried her off from town in the midst of the Beason, and never allowed her to visit the opera -house again. They were men of fire and steel, men born to command, who brooked no op- position, no contradiction, men who were aa accustomed to their own way as they were to the air they breathed, men, who with the most chivalrous respect for women, still considered them as of decidedly inferior creation. They were to be cherished, taken care of, loved, worshipped, but•never to step out of their place, never to assume that they were to stand side by side with their masters. They never load done so, the Ladies Castlemaine had been among the most docile and obedient of women : there was to be a change now. The day came when Isabel Hyde stood with a smile on her beautiful face and a look of triumph in her dark eyes. "I see my way now," slie said to her- self,."straight without stopping. There was no pause in that terrible time when the fallen angels were driven from heaven, there was no pause in that ter. rible hour when Michael with the flam- ing sword drove Adam and Eve from Paradise. Neither will I pause in the task I have unclortaken, and for the first time I see my way to the end." CHAPTER XXL THE HANDSOira COLONEL. Every season in town has its varieties, is beauties, its beaus, its queen of the hour, its eligible men, and its detri- ments. This season one of the leading men of London society was the handsome and famous officer, Colonel Lennox. He had distinguished himself by many acts of incredible daring during the war—acts of such heroism and bravery that the Queen herself gave him the Victoria Cross, with words that brought tears to his eyes, and made him swear that, so long as he lived, he would be a faithful servant and true knight to her Majesty. Society opened its arms, and he be- came one of its petted darlings. The world seemed crazy after him. The world likes variety. The stories told of this handsome man were delightful.. It was not merely that he had led a forlorn hope ; that he bad dashed into the midst of the enemy, sword in hand, and saved the colors at the risk of his life; that he had saved the lives of snores of men, by taking up in bis own hands a shell that was on the point of exploding ; that he had rescued a com- rade from the hands of three of the foo; that he had performed deeds of valor which put, even the heroes of old to shame. It was also that he had a reputation for gallantry, and that he was one of the handsomest and daring of men. He was absolutely worshiped by the troops under his command; he was admired, envied, and liked by his fellow -officers. By women he was simply beloved, from highest to lowest they found his bravery, his prowess, hit handsome face, alike irresistible. They liked to look at the strong white hands, lioldhig' fan and bouquet, and then re. member how those samehands had hold a burning shell. They liked the exqui- site modulation' of the voice that had given daring orders to daring men ; they enjoyed the flattering glances of the eye that had flashed fire on the foe. There was a variety and piquancy about it. It was something like taming a lion. Colonel Lennox was the rage, the fashion. They called him the Zulu 'hero, "The Knight of the Shell." When the made' it appearance in fashionable drawing-rogms,th° ladiescrowdedround him, and paid him all kinds of hero. worship. Ajay would have liked to listen to his adventures, but he was too noble a man to speak of himself or what he had d'ono. He was a magnificent man—tall, oared, with a bDi3"'o'hest, broad shout. dere, finely mfr cipci limbs, a princely carriage—"!gvefy__uioh a soldier," his troopers said itis face was dark and bold, full of power and of courage ; the features were not refined, and had no particulardolicaoy, bub they were strong and powerful, bandeaux) after abold and manly fashion. No sae ever saw a shadow of fear in his eyes, no one ever saw him wince; he was fearless. Iiia face impressed every one who caw it with a sone° of power ; but— Alae1 that "brit" must be written after everything, Had any one raised the thick, drooping mouetaohe and look- ed at his mouth beneath, they would havo seen the One weakness of his char. actor. He was bravo to a fault, fearless, courageous after the grand old fashion • the world told stories of his valiant deeds; but there was another side to his character, and it was not pleasant one. More than ono tragedy had been laid at his door ; more than one woman had died nursing his name ; more than one home had been darkened or ruined by him; more than one husband had threatened to shoot him, but at the siat of the powerful figure and bold, damning face, had drawn back. He had an evil reputation where women were concerned. In the eyes of some, who neither knew nor appreciat- ed the virtue so dear to angels, his repu- tation was enhanced by the rumors. Clever and worldly mothers, who knew what a favorite he was in society, would say to their daughters : "Do not, on any account, dance more than once with Colonel Lennox, and bo sure not to sit out a dance with him." It was hard work to resist when those handsome, eloquent eyes of his pleaded; but the unwritten laws of society must be obeyed. Mon enjoyed the society. of Colonel Lennox, they owned it frankly, and no one thought any the worse of thein for it. The matrons, both young and old, took open pleasure in the Lulu hero's friendship, but it was an under- stood thing that he should notbe allow- ed to sea too much of the young ladies. Matrons would crowd round him, would vie with each other, in trying to attract his attention, would lavish invi- tations upon him ; would talk by the hour about "that charming Colonel Len- nox," but they were very careful over their younger sisters and daughters. He had won honors, fame, and people paid homage to him as one of the brav- est soldiers of the day; but he was not an eligible scan, he was not rich, and although he came of a good family, he bad no position apart from his profes- sion; and then there were always those whispered rumors of his gallantries and perfidies. There was a story told that, on the day he set sail for Zululand, among the crowd at the station waiting to see the White Lancers off was a young girl with a beautiful face, and that when she saw him she stretched out her arms and cried Allan 1" in a voice thatiezced the hearts of those who heard it. He was seen to look quickly at her, with a darkling frown on his bold, handsome face, and went away without even a word. She fell in the street on her way home, and was picked up dead. Thera was another story told of a young and very pretty girl with whom he had flirted desperately, without hav- ing had the faintest intention of marry- ing her. When he set sail for Zululand, without the offer she had so implicitely believed he would make her, the next thing heard of bei was that she had lost her reason, and would never regain it in this life. A. darker story still came from a fair inland village. He bad been staying near it. and had made the acquaintance of a beautiful woman, the wife of a gardener, a man who made a good liv- ing by the growth and sale of flowers. She was a woman with a bloom in her face that was fairer than roses, and.whe was bright and innocent as the flowers themselves until he came. It was the old story—a faithless wife, a ruined home, a husband maddened by his loss, and no redress. All these stories were well known. One or two men at his club did not care much for the society of handsome Colonel Lennox ; one or two said that an English officer ought to be a gentle- man, and that he who literally made war upon women could not be cue. This season Colonel Lennox was as completely the rage as any beauty. It was well known among the fairer sox that he was "delightfully wicked," that he had passed through many ad- ventures; that his held, handsome face ought to be labelled "dangerous" yet those who did not attract his attention were envious of those who did ; those he admired were envied by those lie passed by. Isabel Hyde had heard mach of him before she had seen him. She was in- troduced to him at ball given by Lady Cresson. Neither Lord nor Lady Castle- maine happened to bo present. Miss Hyde, being the loveliest girl in the room, ho devoted himself to her; and if her heart and her affections had not already been given, the chanes are that she would have liked him. As it was, she danced twice with him; she showed him the rare flowers of which Lady Cresson was so proud ; she talked to him in her bright, picturesque fashion, and when they parted it seemed as though they had been friends for many years. Colonel Lennox thought her the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and expressed a sincere desire that he should see more of her. The morning following Lady Castle. maine was tired, and remained in her room. Lord Castlemaine and Isabel were together, and he was asking the details of the ball, She began, with much animation to tell about the hand- som° colonel. Ho listened in perfect silence. "Do you know him?" she asked, after a time, eutio11013ra "No," was the brief reply, "but I I have heard him spoken of," "He is the finest and bravest soldier in England," said Isabel. "Vary probably, I have always thought our officers the finest body of mon the world boasts." "You will be sure to meet him," con- 1 tinned Isabel; "he is the prominent character of the season." But Lord Castlemaine made no an- swer; and Isabel, fancying that the subject did not please him, said no more. "Perhaps," she thought to herself, "men are no better pleased at hearing each other praised than women are." She had studied Lord Castlomaino's character well, but one point of it had escaped her. He was a man to whom all kinds of gallantries and infidelities were utterly hateful. One lova, one wife to love in all gond faith, and honor, and loyalty—that was the Castlemaine notion. The Castlemaines were all men of singularly; pure lives. They had no prodigal sons, no roues among thorn. They had little toleration for common vices; they had none whatever for run- away wives and bad husbands. They wore, one and all, the white flower of a blameless life. Much as Isabel had studied the cha- racter of the man whom she loved to the peril of her own soul, she had not noticed this, which was certainly one of the brightest parts in it. She pondered two or three times that day on what could be the reason that Lord Castlemaine did not seem to be interested in what she told him ; why he had made no comment—be, who generally entered heart and soul into everything she discussed with him. Lady Castlemaine behaved in a vary different fashion when Isabel spoke to her of Colonel Lennox. Her fair face flushed, and her eyes grew brighter, as she listened to the stories of his bravery and his prowess. Isabel was careful enough not to say anything of the other side of his aha. racter. "He is like one of the heroes of the olden days," said Lady Castlemaine; "like Horatius, who kept the bridge." And Miss Hyde smiled to herself a peculiar smile, as she answered: "He is, indeed." CHAPTER XXII. "A WICKED IDEA." The prettiest - ball -room in London belonged to Lady Morgan; prettiest, because it was so lofty, so beautifully decorated, and always rendered so charming by the quantity and variety of flowers. It had been built after a fashion that made it capable of holding three times more flowers than any other ball -room in London. It had a painted ceiling that was one of the wonders of London; richly pan- eled walls ; beautiful recesses that were filled. with fountains and flowers. It opened into a small but most exquisite conservatory at one end, and at the other led into a suite of magnificent drawing.rooms. When Lady Morgan gave a ball these superb rooms were all thrown open. It was said that more matches had been made there than in any other house in London ; there were so many charming nooks for lovers, and the atmosphere bright, light, and laden with richest perfume, was oonduoive to love -making. Lady Morgan was most wise and sen- sible in her invitations—she always lead a room -full of pretty girls ; plain or stupid women never received invite, tions from her. Youth, beauty, and grace were the things she considered first. The result was always brilliant balls, and on this evening her success was re- markable. The ball -room was brilliantly lighted, and the light seemed to be of pale gold that showed the painted ceil- ing, the bloom of the flowers, the sil- very spray of the fountain, the fair faces, the rich jewels, and the costly dresses of the ladies. A brilliant scene, on which Lady Mor- gan gazed with pride. The Rival Roses were both present, and each in her wary was queen. Isabel surpassed herself that night. She wore a dress of the palest amber brocade, covered with the richest, finest black lane ; she wore a few lenten lilies in her dark hair, and she carried a bouquet of them in hor hands. Tall, beautiful, and stately, she looked like a young queen ; there was some- thing royal and gracious about her, but even her proud beauty paled before the fair loveliness of Lady Castlemaine. On this evening she wore a dress of finest white silk, with a rich parure of,rubios;, a dross delicately trimmed with sprays of white lilao. The dainty bloom on her face, the sheen of her golden hair, the light in her blue eyes, made her a beautiful and brilliant picture. A time game when, quite early in the evening, she felt some little fatigue, and she went with her partner, the best waltzer in England, the Duke of Port - sea, to one of the fine large drawing- rooms, opening into the ballroom, a magnificent apartment, where the hang- ings ang-in s wore all of blue velvet, the furniture upholstered in the same material, the carpet of white velvet pile, with blue bells so' artistically woven they looked as though they had just fallen there, and one felt inclined to stoop and pick them up. The coiling was finely paint- ed, the walls richly paneled, a few pic- tures iatures of rare meth hong on them. Jardinieres held costly and fragrant flowers, white statues gleamed palely from a background of tall palm trues, A magnificent room, and, as the young Duke of Portsea said to him ell so , a fit• ting shrine for ilio fair and imperial woman ho had led there. Her fair beauty showed to perfection with that rich blue background. 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