HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Herald, 1906-12-21, Page 7heliara CS Co trzm LI Ft=
CEYLON LREEN 'I EA
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And so in my thoughts I separate them
still. Well, he went away again, and I
saw him no more for two years, for the
next vacation he spent with some friends.
In the meantime my young sister grew
up as beautiful a creature as ever
bloomed into womanhood. She had a
small and graceful form, delicate feat-
ures, complexion of the purest white
and red, glittering black hair, splendid
black eyes, and an ever -varying, must
enchanting smile. I was twenty-five, and
my sister eighteen, when the young
squire came to the castle to pay us a
last visit previous to departing for his
tour on the Continent. I had never seen
him so handsome and fascinating as ho
was then. Still I never thought of 11im
except as the young master; and never
associated him with the memory of my
love; but during the few weeks .of his
stay he came frequently to our lodge,
and always seemed affectionate to nie.
I used to do all the shopping and mar•
keting for our little household, and aft,
en upon returning from thees errands
in the village, I found Mr. Etheridge in
company with my fair young sister. Up-
on these occasions he would always spring
forward and greet me most affectionate-
ly,
ffectionate-
ly "I have been waiting for you, Maggy."
or words to that effect.
"Heaven knows that I never had a
doubt of his honor, or a fear of my sis-
ter's heart. I had known the young
squire from his boyhood, and though we
had once been sincere lavers, he had nev-
er done, or said,: a single thing to wound
my delicacy; therefore, how could I sus-
pest that his visite boded. evil to my
y? Alas! I did not know how mach
besides classics and mathematics he had
learned at Oxford; no, nor now the
world had changed him! I was blind,
deaf, senseless to all misgivings. At
length the last day of his visit came. The
next morning he was to start upon his
travels. That night my sister clung to
me and wept all night. I could not com-
fort her. She had been hysterical for
several days, and I sat it all lown to
nervousness, never for an instant eon -
meting her malady with the tthought of
the young squire's departure. Tho next
morning he took leave of us, and went
away; alone as we thought. That night
my May was missing. Ah! I cannot en-
ter upon the details of this sad story. A
few days of agonizing and fruitless search
and then we ascertained that she was the
companion of his tour. He had waited
for her at a neighboring post -town where
according to their previous arrangement,
she had joined him. My father was an
old man, in feeble health; he never re-
covered the shock. � re that he was
in a
terrible rage, are n
never forgive or epeak to his nephew
again. He did all he could for my fath-
er, retainel him in. his service at full
wages, and hired. a young man, John
Elmer, to do his duty in the Chase. I
must hurry over this part of my story.
Within twelve months after the flight
of May father died. I married John El-
mer, and he succeeded to the situation
of head -keeper ,and we continued to oc-
cupy the lodge. It was in the second
year of our marriage that we got news
of May. He had deserted her, broken
her heart ,and she was dead—dead, and
in a foreign grave! It was then that
I registered an oath in heaven to avenge
upon the head of her destroyer the rum
and death of my only sister, And to.
do this more effectually, I resolved to
conceal the fiery hatred that consumed
my. heart.
"Another year passed. The old baron
died; and the young one reigned in his
stead.
"I would fain have persuaded my hus-
band to throw up his situation, rather
than serve a master who had wrought us
such bitter wrong. But John Elmer was
obstinate, We remained, and I buried
the bitter hatred in my breast —and
bided my time.
I pass on to other days, when the new
baron wood and won a young and beau-
tiful bride. She was a delicate crea-
ture, fair -skinned, blue-eyed, golden-hair-
ed—too fragile for the cares of this
world, where, indeed ,she did not tarry
long. It was some fifteen months af-
ter her marriage that she died,
leaving behind an infant laughter
of only a, few days old. Her early death
was a righteous judgment on him, the
traitor!"
"My mother, my sweet young mother,
who perished in her early youth! Olt,
nurse, how can you say such things of
her ?"
Lady Etheridge shuddered and shrank
away from deer,
"1 have filled my life with remorse
Lady Thheridge again shuddered,
"And I have lost my immortal soul!
Laura, no longer Baroness Etheridge--
Laur%, my daughter, speak tie me, I amdying."
"Oh, mother! mother! mother! moth -
en" exclaimed she who was no lopger
Lady Etheridge, as she dropped upon
her lenses by the bedside, and buried her
fade in the cover,
"Laura, Laura, spleteak to me! comfort
cruel I am dying! Laura, Laura, you
at least have no reason to oomplain; you
have not suffered by the exchange! You
have received the education of a gen-
tlewomen; you •should not blame ane!"
"Mother, mother, I do not presume
to do so; but oh, do not defend your
mime! Repent of it! repent of it! pray
God for forgiveness!" sobbed. Laura.
"Repent? -I undo any doings. 1 can
go no further," replied the woman,
gloomily,
"Ah! my mother, to undo what you
have done—to right this wrong—will be
more difficult than you think; for
thiongli I shall immediately yield up my
possession of the castle and estates that
I have so long considered my own, yet,
believe .me, it will be difficult to convince
the House of Peers•, before whom this
matter enust come, that the nameless
girl whom you deprived of the title has
any right thereunto."
• "Will it? The proof does not rest
solely upon my word or dying oath. Let
anyone lead Resamond Etheridge
through a gallery of the portraits of
her ancestors, and compare her face with
theirs; and it will then be seen that
Rosamond, au faee and features, is a true
Etheridge. Or, if more proof is needed,
let anyone strip up her sleeve, and look
upon her night arm above the elbow,
and they will see the family mark, the
fiery cross,with which, while in Scotland,
some ancient Baroness of Etheridge was
so frightened as not only to leave its
image on her immediate child, but to
send it down to all her deseendants.
Have you, • Laura, any such mark, or
any such resemblance?"
"No, no; and T remember that the
absence of the Etheridge mark, and of
all likeness to the Etheridge family, used
to be commented pon by the servants
in my presence"
"Peace, Lady Etheridge, until you
hear the rest—it is not much. The new-
born babe was likely to perish for the
want of a nursing mother. I was then
nursing may own child, which was bat
three weeks old. My husband was down
with the mortal illness that finally ter-
minated his life. The housekeeper at
the castle recommended that the child
should be placed in my elearge. I was
applied to, and I agreed to nurse the in-
fant, but only on condition that it
should be sent to ray cottage ,and left
in any sole care. To this His Lordship
consented.
"He went away. And then I laid the
babes side by side' in the solitude of my
room, .und looked at them. Young in-
fants as they were, they were much
alike, sly own ebild and my master's
were both of the same age and sex, and
both little, round,faoed, bald-headed, al-
mond -eyed babies, with no more individ-
uality to distinguish one from the other
than waxen dolls of the same pattern,
"There, in the solitude of my cottage,
I changed the clothing of those children.
And three months afterward, when his
lordship came home, it was my daugh-
ter whom I carried up to the castle to be
christened by a. Lord Bishop, who came
clown for the purpese. It was my
daughter who had servants, and tutors,
and governesses to attend her by day
and night. It was my daughter who
wars brought up with the state of a
young princess, Finally, it was my
daaighter who, at the death of the baron,
entered into his inheritance as Laura,
Baroness Etheridge of Swinburne!" ex-
claimed the weird creature, her eyes
gleaming with triumph, as if main aha
felt the virulent stimulus of hatred, and
tasted the poisoned sweetness of re-
venge.
"My God! mry God! Oh, woman, won-
an!—for I o'innot call you mother—
what is this. that you have done?"
moaned the Lady, dropping her head
upon her clasped hands.
"I have consummated any revenge—"
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"Ah! nor is tha '11. There are other
proofs. The link. the chain of evi-
dence will all be and complete."
"It is better t it is so; since a
question as to th ase inheritrix must
be raised. I am that the answer is
susceptible of pr hieIi will place the
matter at rest f w. And now my
mother, you are
death, as your f
must permit me
and make eertc
must not be
you immedia
rising, sand
dress.
lin their 101
heeded had :pa..
the morning.
When Laura o
rays of the rising
room. The carred
the door, and the
on his box.
"Wile -nal," said t
sorry to have kep
night, while 1 wa!
You shall „o to alei
to the castle; but
the residence of G
with a deep courtesy, as she turned gene of him who held her fate in his
away, hands—Albert Hastings. '
"Yes, she is an Ebhexidge--•-a true Eth- CHB.PTL+'it V.
eridge, although she knows it not as
yet. And I—who am I? This must be Mr. Hastings was pacing the Mate
all a dream, or a delirium of some fierce and turned to greet her, exelaiming:
brain lever! Oh, heaven, that I could "My worshipped Laura---" when
•iialeel—than I could burst those bonne
something in the expression of that.
of sleep or frenzy, and awake!" thought queenly brow, and those steady, lumina
Laura, as Are etood for a few moments our eyes, stopped him. Looking wistfully,
like ease in a trance. Then, recovering in her face, he said:
herself, she bold the good nciglebor to "Something has happened, Lady Ethe-
sasy to Mrs, Eimer, when she awoke that
ridge. You commanded the presenee of
she would soon return; and, taking Colonel Hastings and myself, and we are
leave, entered the carriage and drove to here at your orders. Speak, dear Lame,
e Castle, no longer her home. and say, can we serve you"
She was met in the hall by Mrs. Ma- (To be continued.)_nen
berly, her woman,whowas all in a flut- a • - 8 4,8' +
ter of anxiety.
'ing, nor even near
mild suggest. You
•n to the castle,
ngeanemts that
will return to
rd," said Laura,
r.._disordered
"Ah, my lady! my lady! how very in-
discreet! Just like your kind heart, to
stay out all night nursing a whimsical
old woman, instead of taking your rest
with such a day as this before you. .And
slack, how worn your ladyship does look.
Will your ladyship lie down and sleep for
an hour, and then take a warm bath ana
a cup of coffiee before commencing your
ladyship's bridal toilet. There will be
plenty of time."
"No, Maberly, no I thank you; I
could not sleep. I will go to my dress-
ing -room, and evehange this habit for a
loose wrapper; and you may bring me a
cup of tea."
, the night an-
y, and brought
eve door, the first
streamed into the
ill waited before
ehman was asleep
ady, "I ani really
on sitting here all
ed by a sick bed.
when you get back
ow drive round to
mel and Mr. Hest -
kegs, and request thin to comae to ane at
the castle upon im}ortant business that
will not admit of delay. Then return
hither to take me acme."
The weary coaehinan obeyed, and, ga-
thering, up his reins, drove off. The lady
returned to the house, and sat down be-
side the bed of the now sleeping 'woman,
to wait until the carriage came back.
Stunned by the shook of her sudden
fall, distressed by doubts of the reality
of her own position, and of the stability
of her oiwn reason, tempted to ibelieve
the events of the night only the phan-
tasmagoria of a feverish dream, and feel-
ing, through all this chinos of thought,
the imininent necessity of immediate ac-
tion, Laura waited until, 'alrmost at the
same -moment the carriage drove up to
the door, Rose, with the neighbor at
whose house she had spent the night,
came in.
Making a sign to thean that leer pa-
tient was asleep, Laura Elsner arose to
leave the house; but first she burned to
gaze •on Bose, the unconscious, though
rightful Baroness Etheridge. Since tial
preceding night, a fearful change had
passed over the face of the maiden. Her
cheeks wore the pallid hue of death, Iter
eyes were dim and sunken, her lips blue
and tremulous; her voiee, in bidding
good -morning to Lady I+Etheridge, was
so low and faltering as to be almost
inaudible.
"How this child loved her supposed
mother," was the thought of Laura, as
she kindly eaid: "Do not .be uneasy,
our patient is not in immediate danger."
"Thank you, I know that she is not,
my lady," replied Rose, in a tearful
voice..
"'I'hen what other grief can a young
girl like you possibly have?" inquired
Laura, sympathetically.
"The heart kru weth its own bitter-
ness, Lady Tiltheridge—a bitterness with
which the stranger intermeddleth not,"
replied Rose, with a certain mournful
dignity.
"Very true; I beg your pardon; yet
permit ave to be the good fairy Who wild
foretell to you an end, before many days,
of all your troubles," said. Laura, gently,
for not the slightest element of jealousy
entered into her lloart of tire uncon-
scious maiden 'who was soon to displace
her from her high rank,
"I have no trembles Tarty T11:beririee;
those only have troubles wiio have hopes,
"Yes, my lady. Will your ladyship
look into the dining -room as your lady-
ship goes by ? Mounseer, the French
cook that Colonel Hastings brought down
has laid the breakfast most magnificent,
my' lady," said the maid, throwing open
a pair of folding doors on her right, and
revealing a fine dining -hall, with a long
table and sideboards covered with snow
white damask, and sparkling, glowing,
and blazing ith ;old plate and crystal
glass, while all the pillars that support
ed the arched roof, and all the family
portraits that graced the walls, were
festooned with wreaths of flowers.
"It is very well," said Laura, languid-
ly, as she passed on her way up the
stairs.
She entered her stressing room, when
a beautiful vision met her view. Upon
a center table, covered with a white vel-
vet embroidered cloth, were displayed , have waited to see if the cure was per -
the magnificent bridal presents offered ' manent before making any statement,
by the friends of Lads Etheridge. and now I am very willing to give my
"Do but see, my lady, if your ]adv- testimony. I shall be pleased to answer
ship is equal to it, what s lendid of- any inquiries, and if any one cares to
p conte and, see me, I shall be pleased to
ferings. All these came last night, or this tell diem what Zam-Buk bas done for
morning. I hope they are arranged to men
your ladyship's satisfaction. Tliis really It is by working such CUM as the
royal set of diamonds, my lady, came above that Zam-Buie has made for itself
last night, with Mr. Hastings' compli- its world-wide reputation. It is a cer-
monts. This other set of oriental pearls, tain cure for cuts, burns, bruises, ee,zeima,
my lady, were left with Colonel Hast- iur les runningsores, spreading scabs,
bags' respects. This dressing case of eb- scalp diseases, oisoned vounda,, fester-
ing sores, piles, ulcers, bad legs, absces-
ses, belles, ringworm, erysipelas, serenade,
barber's rash, blackheads, acne, stiff-
ness, rheumatism, and all injured, dis-
eased or inflamed conditions of slain
and tissue. Of all druggists . at 50e . a
box, or postpaid from the Zam-Buk Co.,
Colborne street, Toronto. upon receipt
of price. 6 boxes for $2.50.
RESULTS OF
BLOOD POISONING
Cured by Zam•Buk—Chronic Ulcers
and Eo:es of Nine Years Standing
Healed by This herbal Balm.
The wonderful value of Zam-Buk,
the herbal balm in cases of chrome
ulcers, sores, etc., is illustrated by the
experience of Mrs. W. E. Rice, of Lone
don Junction (Ont), She says:
"I cannot be thankful enough for
the day 'Lam-Buk came to Canada.
Igor nine years I had been a sufferer.
from running sores on my legs caused
by blood -poisoning. I had tried every
kind of ointment and salve that I had
heard of, but none of them seemed equal
to my case. Last winter I was worse
than ever, and could not bear to stance •
on my feed for five minutes. The pain
was so acute that I could not bear to
have my slippers on.
"I heard of Zam-Buk, and decided to
give it a fair trial. From first commenc-
ing with it it did me good, and it has
now cured me. 'Whereas before I could
not stand on my feet for five minutes
at a time. I can now not only stand, but
walk about without feeling any pain
whatever. I feel like a new woman I
•ony, with all its appointments of solid
gold, was an offering from Lady Dorn -
ton. This superb workbox.—"
"There, cease, Maberly. I see all these
things. I admire then, and 1 acknow-
ledge the kindness of my friends; but I
am very tired; help me to undress."
"Yes, my lady; but just lift up your
eyes and look upon that Indian shawl.
If that splendid shawl is not enough to
restore strength to the fainting, I ash no
judge of ladies nor shawls. That comes
from your ladyship's cousin, Lord Sea -
forth, who brought it from Constanti-
nople, himself, no doubt."
"It is very rich and rare. There, Mab-
erly, give nie my dressing gown."
"•Yes, my lady; and while you are rest-
ing and drinking your tea, just feast
your ladyship's eyes upon that bride
dress and veil; and see this wreath of
orange bloswoms, with the real perfume
in them, sucle as the French only can
make."
prospects and. desire . 1 ria; c: nu.ee;
nothing but the bitterness of an acrid
heart.. Do not occupy ,your moble mind
with may pons affairs, my badly, This, is
"Yes, yes, i\iaberly, it is all very
beautiful, no doubt; but I have now
other things to occupy nen thoughts."
"Other things, my lady."
"Yes, yes; I am momentarily expect-
ing Colonel and Mr. Hastings. When
they arrive, show Colonel Hastings into
the drawing room, and Mr. Hastings in-
to the library, and come and let mo
know. And now leave nie. I wish to be
alone."
"Yes, my lady," said the wondering
abigail, as she left the room.
"Strange! oh, most strange, but yes-
terday Lady Etheridge of Swinburne,
the mistress of all this vast estate, the
betrothed of Albert Hastings, and to-
day—to-day—only Laura. Elmer, the
daughter of the village laundress. Yet
still the betrothed of Albert Hastings.
That was the dearest title I ever had.
I have that still. Oh, thanks be to Hea-
ven, amid. all the wreck and ruin of my
fortune, I have that precious title still.
Will he be faithful in my fallen for-
tune, Yes, yes• Oh, traitress that I should
be to doubt hint for a moment. Yes, he
will be faithful. He never loved me for
my rank or fortune. He loves me For
myself. Upon the rock of my husband's
love I may repose, for I know he will
never change with changed fortune. He
will throw his strong arm around me
against the world. Had this calamity fal-
len upon him, and stripped him of rank
and wealth, and name and fame, I should
have loved him even more deeply for
his misfortunes. I should have been the
happiness of my life to make him forget
them. 1 judge his noble heart by mine!
He will be faithful! Do your worst, fate.
Strip me of my rank and wealth, and
name and fame, and friends, and all
external goods. You cannot touch my
heart. where, safe as a jewel iii its cas-
ket, lies the treasure of my life, the
love of Albert Hastings." mused Laura,
as she sat amid the transitory splendor
of her dressing room.
BORROWERS TOOT{ THE HINT.
Suburban Housekeeper Returns Their
Own Coffee and Gets Desired Relief.
In a suburb of this city resides a
matron who prides herself upon her
coffee, and those who have enjoyed the
hospitality of her board agree that her
pride is well founded. For months she
has been distressed by the propensities
of some of her neighbors who have bor-
rowed coffee, and that only, to her occa-
sional but serious inconvenience.
It was true they returned what they
borrowed, or imagined they did, but the
coffee they brought her back was not of
the quality of that they borrowed. She
could not in justice to her reputation or
her own requirements or the maintenance
of her reputation so much as use it.
On one occasion when her complaints
to her husband were particularly sorrow-
ful he suggested that she keep the coffee
returned to her for use when her visitors
sought to borrow more instead of throw-
ing it away as she had been doing. And
she at once put the plan into execution.
The next borrower was received sweet-
ly and her request for a portion of
coffee complied with most graciously. It
was promptly returned, but with less
appearance of gratification than had
been the wont. The plan was continued
and applied to the others.
"Mrs. Jones' coffee is not of as good
quality as formerly," said one neighbor
to another.
"So I've noticed," said the other neigh-
bor.
In less than a month the borrowing
ceased entirely.—Philadelphia Record.
One Club Quite Enough.
(Detroit Free Press.)
11e—How many clubs do you belong to?
She—Just one.
!He—what's that?
She—The club 1 hold over my husband.
Tommy — "Pop, ears are always on
the side, aren't they?" Tommy's Pop—
"Yes, my son." Tommy—"Then what's
"My lady, Mr. Hastings waits your
ladyship's pleasure in the library," said
a footman, °penin.; the door.
"Very well, Williams, precede and an-
nounce me," said his mistress, rising and
leaving the dressing room. ,
"Will he be faithful?" she mused, as
she passed .along the halls communicat-
ing with the library. "Will he be faith-
ful? I shall know now!-•- nay, do 'new!
My life --my soul on his fidelity. He will
be faithful!"
And with this inspiring word upon her
lowing lips, and with this thought
your wedding clay; 1 hoer: the honor to lighting up her eloquent; face, she en -
wish you melt joy. mirhmoi1" said Rose, tared the library and Mend in the pre.