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. The
j TO nu, Oo\rINtni1D.i
tD
zga
low
gYy
cip
0
tiFi
�t--1
o
CTI Ct r)
ct
c
P.p,
0
P F=31
1-3
P
c+
CD 02 It
`L✓ c
CD
h cy°
CD 'CI CD
it CD
CD
(t) c<CDr
CD
irD
pa ice';
Ems'
O go
i
0 CU
C3 0
HI
• 00.
® yam.
b..dCi
P.°