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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Herald, 1908-11-06, Page 3.sans,- .,,, she CHAPTER 1V, to AL. ,/ egl^,�f!tr "Now," said Inez to her sister, "If Lord Lynne likes to join us here, he may,. I could not endure the idea of a formal interview in the library. I dis- like almost everything that is stiff and ceremonious." "You will find moth to dislike in Eng- land, then," replied. Agatha, with a smile; "but, if you have patience to look for it, underneath that stiff, for - real manner, that you say characterizes us, you will often find a warm heart and a kindly nature." If Inez Lynne had wished her cousin to be struck and oaptivated at first sight, she could not have chosen a more picturesque place for the interview than the shade of the great cedar -tree. The sunshine, sparkling through its branches, fell upon the fair faces of the two girls, that contrasted so vividly with the heavy mourning dresses they wore. T1ie sunbeams lit up the magnic fieent beauty of the Andalusian, while they seemed to fell bike a blessing upon the graceful head of her gentle sister. "Read to me, Agatha," said Inez. "I want to dream this beautiful morning." "I have brought the `Idyls' with me," replied her sister. "Which will you have?" "Read where you will," replied Inez. "Anything except `King Arthur's Par- don.' I do not want to hear that just now; it is too mournful." Agatha chose "Enid." She had a sin- gularly musical voice, clear and sweet; a voice that was not, perhaps, capable of expressing any great amount of pas- sion—tragedy would never be her forte —but it was soft and soothing. It seem- ed to ehime with the rippling of the lit- tle fountains a.nd the song of the birds. It was a very beautihul picture up- on which Lord Lynne stood to gaze. Ile had been with one of the keepers round the park. He was returning, on his way to the house somewhat tired with the long walk; but as he drew near the cedar -tree he saw the black dresses, and knew that he was at last in the presence of the two girls—one of whom must be his wife. Mingled with the drowsy hum of the bees, and the faint ripple of the water, there came to him the murmur of the sweetest voice he had ever heard. As he drew nearer he stood to listen, and then he distinguish- ed the words. He heard the beautiful story of Enid invested with new grace and new charms from the voice that told it --clear and distinct, and full of pathos ane sweetness, that found its way straight into his heart, and made wild havoc there. It awake new feel- ings, new thoughts; it seemed to un seal the closed fountain of love and ten- derness that flowed at its bidding. Lord Lynne was not the first who had fall- en in love with a voice. He wondered what the face was like that went with it. He stepped forward gently; and there, just lit up by a slanting sun- beam, he saw a. fair, sweet face, with gentle, modest eyes and smiling• lips; a face to love and to trust; a face with- out passion, but full of tenderness; without genius, but full of thought; a face that a man would never rave about, but would love until death took it from him. He saw the golden brown hair that was like his own; and then he knew that the reader of the poem was his cousin, Agatha Lynne. Re had not re- cognized her voice. He had never heard her read before, and the charm of it was new to him. Ile had not seen Agatha Lynne since she was a child of fifteen. The last time he was at Lynnewolde she was away visiting some friends. He could hardly believe that the graceful girl before him was the same little cou- sin with whom he hau played, and who had kissed him years ago, and said she would be his little wife. How sweet, and gentle, and serious she looked. "Stop, Agatha!" cried another voice, more musical still, but with a strange ring of passion in ;Its tone. "1 feel half angry with Enid; after all, she was too patient. I would never do es she did, would you?" "Yes," was the relpy.' "When my Geraint comes, if he ever does appear, I would do all that Enid did, and more." "So would not I1" said Inez. Lord Lynne hardly noticed her. His heart went with Agatha's answer, and something like a wish shaped itself in his mind that he might. be Geraint and win her love . His eyes seemed to drink in the fair beauty of her face. 1-te hardly looked at the beautiful Andalusian by her side. He came forward then, and both sis- ters rose at his approach. It was em- barrassing mornent for them all, but no chevalier of the olden time ever ex- ceeded Lord Lynne in grace and cour- tesy. Inez had self-possession enough to have met—well, it is difficult to say ateee .rnos....,....ar„ what would have daunted her. Certainly Lord Lynne did not. She received his condolences and apologies with the same languid grace and dignity with which she had received her father's carcases and her sister's demonstrations of affec- tion . She looked everything that was beautiful and majestic, but not at all like a girl who would be glad to be Lord Lynne's wife, if he asked her. Agatha's greeting of her cousin was characteristic of herself. If Inez forgot, for a moment, or appeared to forget, the strange will that linked them together, her sister did not. A crimson flush cov- ered her faee, and her shy eyes fell when her cousin took her hand and clasped it warmly in his own. "I have disturbed you, I fear," said Lord Lynne. "I have been hurrying through my day's work. I expect my mother, Mrs. Lynne, this afternoon, and I am going to the station to meet her. Shall I read a little for you?" "No, thank you," said Inez. "I am out of patience with Enid; . she is just a model for Agatha; but she is too pa- tient and good for me. I like people to be more faulty and human." "You must often have found your liking gratified," said Philip, with a smile, "for I do not know anyone who is anything like faultless. Most of my acquaintances err on the opposite side." "I do not know," said Inez. "I have been with Agatha more than six months, and I have not seen any fault in her.She is insipidly good --are you not, cara mia" "Good, but not insipid," replied Philip, while Agatha laughed at her sister's impatience. So they lingered that morning under the cedar tree. Death and sorrow were for a time forgotten; the sisters forgot that the stately home upon which they gazed was no longer their own; that they were but visitors where they had been mistresses and rulers; they forgot the strange bequest that had startled them. They were happy as the young and beautiful are when the sun shines and the flowers bloom. On that summer morning was forged the first link of a chain that was to unite those three with a strange tie. On that morning was laid the founda- tion of a tragedy such as had never befallen the Lya mes of Lynnewolde. They were all unconscious of the ap- proaching shadow. Philip did not stop to think why he lingered at Agatha's side, and drank in every tone of her voice. The beautiful Andalusian never attempted to define the charm that ri- veted her. She looked. at Lord Lynne's face and knew she hail never seen one so good, so noble, or so true; but she did not dream where love of that face would lead her. "This park is very beauttiful," said. Lord Lynne, turning suddenly to Inez; "but English scenery roust seem cold to you after the glowing landscape of Spain." i "Do not talk to ole of Spain, if you please, Lord Lynne," said Inez wearily. eI want to forget it. I want to cheat myself into believing that I only began to live when I came here." A look of sadness shadowed for e mo- ment her brilliant fade and dimmed her large dark eyes, and in that moment Inez was inexpressibly beautiful. "Poor Inez!" murmured Agatha; "wens not the Senora Monteleone kind to you?,' "Kind?" she replied; "yes, of course, whenever I saw her; but site was an. in- valid for many years before she died. Tell us about your mother, Lord Lynne. Is she pleased to come to live at Lynnewolde?" "I am sure she is," replied Philip warmly. "You will like my mother: I have alwayis considered her one of the most perfectly well-bred women in the world., You are both left in some mea- sure to her care. You know your father wished you to live with my mother until Here Lord Lynne stopped, and a warm flush rose to his brow. Not in the pre- sence of that sweet and gentle Agatha, or her imperially beautiful sister, could he utter the word that trembled upon his lips; not in their presence could he say one word which would remit to them the will. "Untie we are married," said Inez cool- ly; "and if we never marry at all, Mrs. Lynne will have three children instead of one." It was gracefully said, and then, for the first tune, Inez saw something like admiration in Lord Lynne's face as he turned toward her. It was not for her beauty, though, but for her ready wit and grace. That afternoon Mrs. Lynne arrived, and thea, for the first time, the two sis- ters felt at ease in their cousin's house. That evening the family solicitor and Sir Ilarry Leigh joined thele, and they all united in persuading the daughters of the late Lord Lynne to continue their residence in the house «there their fa- ther had lived and died—at least for a time, until prime other arrangements could be made. Mrs. Lynne declared that she should never be happy at Lynne- wolde if her nieces quitted it. Their father had wished thein to make their home with her, that she might be guar- dian, chaperone and friend. The prospect of leaving Lynnewolde, even for a home of their own as beau- tiful, if not as stately was not pleas- ing to the girls, who loved this, the home of their rare. Iord Lynne said he should he in London n creat deal ---.ho was going to Scotland-ea.nd he begged ijdeem tea remain., that hie mother might not feel loet or lonely. ' So it was decided et feet. to the greet oy of e'rei'.v n,_ ... • beauty of Mies Lynne, while they loved the gentle rule of Agatha. Mr. Gregson was relieved; it saved hien an infinite amno'f tuble. Sir Ik sy Leigh was. delioughtet d, for+roht htul long contemplated a marriage between•ozie of the heiresses and his son a zd heir, Allan. Mrs. Lynne wars 1 leased,` bcea.use.. she loved the girls and wished to take s mother's place to them. Philip was glad, as any man would be, that/the Molise he called his own was to be Cheered and brightened tiful by the presence of two young and beau girls, Philip had thought much o and its conditions, I:fe liked moneythe will but lie loved honor moire. He knew that without money his title and Lynnewolde would be but a 441'(e. How could he keep bhem up on a few hundreds per annum. Yet' he had made up his mind, and no Lynne had ever, changed it. If be did not love either of the girls, and if they did not love him, he would never a.sic one or the ether to be his wife. In that case the money must go. Ho was quite decided; he, would never mar- ry any girl because he had been told to do so, nor would he ever marry for the •sake of money. There was plenty of time before hien-two long years. Then his thought flea: back to Florence Wyverne. Oh; no, he • dud not love her; it had been but a gassing fancy. Be liked Agatha Lynne munt better; yet he thought kindly of Florence, and re- membered her looks.and tones on that morning that seemed now so many years ago. "I will neither woo:nor win yet," said Philip to himself. "I will wait. Wisdom and truth and goodness must determine my choice." CHA,PTBR V. Life went on much the same at Lynne- wolde. In place of the gray-haired old lord a young and handsome one reigned. A gentle, high -bred lady ruled the house and every one was pleased to obey her. The sisters were very happy, for they loved Mrs, Lynne, who was so kind a mother to them; and; as yet, there was no cloud in the sky. But destiny was drawing nearer, for Philip was beginning to love Agatha very dearly. There was something in the calm, sweet face that charmed him. Ile liked the repose, the gentleness, the shy timidity of her manner, She had not any very brilliant accomplishments; she could not sing asrxiez did, with a fire and passion that found its way in- to the depths of every heart. The one dazzled and carried you•by storm; the other stole gently into your heart. When once known, it was iitipossible not to love Agatha Lynne. She was simply a fair, modest, thoughtful English girl, fresh and blooming as 8. rose, innocent and guileless as a -child, open, frank, candid, full of high principle, sweet - tempered, and gay; not capable, per- haps, of either the deepest joy or the most tragical sorrow; a girl who had thorough command of her thoughts and words; one who would, never be led away from what' she knew and believed to be her duty. Thr was not the making either oi<, Ilea isin o1 romance or a tragedy queen zn•:yg los Lynne. She would be a good wife, n devoted mother, e kindly neighbor, and a stead- fast friend. But it was not in her to love "not wisely, but too well." Genius and passion had not marked her as their own. Her life ran, and always would run, in commonplace grooves and ellen- uels. It was this good and gentle girl who attracted the young heir of Lynne. When in her preseuee he felt as one who, in the scorching noontide Beat, finds rest and shade. He was a better and truer man when he had talked to her. She never made his heart thrill -- she never woke in him that deep, pas- sionate love he could give, but she elaint- ed and cheered him; she did not fire hie ambition, but she taught him more of ]tie every -day duty than Philip bad ever known before. So he grew to love her, and intended,' when the days of her mourning were over, to ask her to be his wife. Mrs. Lynne was mue,t attached to Agatha. She stood rather in awe of the brilliant and beautiful Inez, who was so different from the general' run of young ladies, so intolerant of little con- ventionalities, so fatally dowered with the gifts of genius and song, so proud, so haughty, yet at times loving and ten- der—Inez, whose childhood and girlhood had been spent in that far distant bind, and was an unknown story to them; whose beautiful face paled, whose bright, dark eyes grew dim, when they spoke to her of her Spanish bone --she who professed utter. indifference end scorn of all love and lovers, while she sang such music as would have charmed a heart of stone. Fitful, faulty, grand: generous and noble, capable of any ex- treme of good or bad, requiring the training and guidance of it master hand, gifted with the rarest ande most won- drous beauty, capable of giving her life for one she loved, she was an enigma to the quiet English lady who ruled at Lynnewolde. Mrs, Lynee, . through her very love for the girl, slightly tyranniz- ed over Agatha., but it was very rarely that she interfered with Inez. Had the proud, passionate heart spok- en yet? Ah, yes: She scoffed at love, but she would have laid down her life at Lord Lynne's feet, content to die if but once he would look upon her as he did upon her sister. "I never feel as though. Inez were one of our own," said i4irs, Lynne to leer son one day; "that strange foreign life has made her so different to Agatha. I cannot understand a girl having no stor- ies of her girlhood to relitte,� Sine seems to dislike the very. Warne of Spain," "I quite disagree with you, mother,,' was the reply. "I believe site loved her early home so much tliitt she cannot en- dure to hear it mentioned." Lord Lynne was away from home very. frequently during the first few months after his uncles death. Ile diel not re- turn to Severnoke Castle. Some one there watched, waited and hoped, .but ell in vein. He wrote a note to Lord `Wyverne, and told him how Constantly evcus engaged, but thlt hC hoped to and retainers, who gloried in the proud' :.e him after Christmas, Lord Wyverne knew exactly what that meant, and he inwardly raged against the goer old lord for his *inopportune death. "It was • all going on so charmingly," he said to himself, "If he had remained here another week, lie would have made an offer before he left. He went away too soon." Lord Wyverne told Florence that their late guest, now Lord Wynne, had asked to be most kindly remembered to her, but that he found himself too busy to pay his promised.' visit. If he had ob. served has daughter attentively, lie would have seen her lips quiver and her Violet eyes grow dim; but his lordship was just then too. busy with a Perigord pie to attend to any one but himself. And • of there were quiet tears shed over a bright hope faded, none knew of it; if a fair young head tossed wearily through the long night, unable to find rest on a pillow that seemed strewn with thorns, no one was any the wiser. Florence Wyverne knew how to keep her own secret. The year of mourning expired at laswst, and then Lynnewolde resumed its usual hospitalities. The terms of the strange will had not been made public. It was the wish of all who were interested in it thatit should be so, Lord Lynne was consequently considered as one of the most eligible mein in the country The ladies were pressing in their invitations, and it was very seldom that one refused to visit Lynnewilde, whether for picnic, dinner, or evening party. 'airs. Lynne did the honors of the house gracefully, and no one was more popular than the young lord and his high -bred, gentle =- then• None of the family had been to Lon- don during the season. The time of mourning had been spent in the strict- est seclusion; but next year Mrs. Lynne was to present the young ladies, and un- der her auspices they were to make their debut in the world of fashion. That summer, the one after the death of the late lord, was an unusually fine one—it Was also unusually warm; and the sisters spent but little time indoors. Reading. walking and sketching in the shady dells of the park—listening to the reading of the world's greatest poems, in which Lord Lynne took the keenest de - lie hast not spoken yet. Ile•had grown to love Agatha Lynne eahniy, deeply and intensely. He thought of her as the one woman whom lie should like to have near him through life. He did not know if his love was returned. Agatha was nut of the demonstrative kind; but he intended, before he left Lynnewolde again, to asic her to become his wife. Some one else had learned to love be- sides Lord Lynne. With all the passion and warmth of her southern nature, with all the force of her genius, with that fatal, coneentrated fidelity that knows no change, that cowrie no risk, Inez Lynne loved the handsome debon- Haire' cousin who devoted himself to hex sister. One bright morning in August the two sisters, with Mrs. Lynne, sat under the great cedar -tree. It was too warm to work. to read, or to sketch. Inez de- clared that the only life endurable on such a morning was that of a bee, who could rest himself at his ease in the very heart of a rose. Agatha, by way of soothing her conscience, held some deli- cate piece of work in her hand. She was talking to Mrs. Lynne. and Inez was watching the .shadow of the teens on the ergs . "There are two gentlemen!" cried Aga- tha. suddenly. -One is Lord Lynne; but who is that with lupi?" "Some one who seems to know you," said Inez, more by the way of hiding the crimson flush upon Iter Twee than from any need of speech. "Oh, Inez," cried .Agatha, `it. is Allan Leigh! How long has he been home, I wonder? How altered he is!" 'Ilse two gentlemen walked slowly over the grass. "I have brought you an old friend," said Lord Lynne, with a smile to Aga- tha, "and you, Miss Lynne, a new one." "There was little doubt that poor Al- lan was an old friend, for he had loved .Agathn Lynne for as many years back as he could remember. He had loved her without hope. Ile knew she would be a great heiress while he—although he would some day be Sir Allan Leigh, of The Chase—was comparatively poor. He loved. her, but he never told her so. He was too diffident, too conscious of what he thought his own inferiority. to dream of asking her to be his wife. So he wor- shipped her at a distance, longing with an unutterable desire for something which shoukl place him in a better posi- tion; but the something never came. (To be contemned.) Repeat it: —"Shiloh's Cure will always cure my coughs and colds." •. s Varied Occupations. Ono day last fall, on the loneliest coast. on Cape Cod bay, the writer ran across an old pian living all by him- self in a little shuck hardly large enough for a chicken coop. He was carefully sewing on 0 not and smnok- ing a corncob pipe. One would think, to look at the situation, that a lnci:lth of such solitude would land a roan in the madhouse. "Don't yon get awfully lonesome here, Uncle Ted!'" I asked. "Who, me?" the replied cheerfully. "iVell, I should spy not. No, sir- rce" "Why, Uncle Ned, what on earth do you do to keep you busy?" "Who, me? --Why, let me, see"— musingly--"samedit! es 1 ;:eta and thinks, and sometimes I jes' sets !"— Snccess.• The Word Diva. The word diva is derived from the Italian and means a gocldeos, sweet- heart, or mistress. In its English ap- plication it designates a prima donna, that is, a female operatic singer of eel eb fits . A CURE FOR RHEUMATISM The Trouble Yields to the Rich, Red Blood Dr. Williams' Pink Pills Actually Make. Ask any doctor and he will tell you that rheumatism is rooted in the blood; that nothing can cure it that does not reach the blood; It is sheer waste of money and time to try to cure rheun'ia- tiam with liniments and lotions that only go skin deep, You can speedily cure rheumatism with Dr. Williams' Pink Pills, which enrioh the blood, drive out the poisonous acid and loosen the stiffened, aching joints. Among the thousands of rheumatic sufferers cured by Dr. Williams' Pink Pills is Mr, W. A. Taylor, Newcastle, N. B., who says: "For a number of years I was a great suffer- er from rheumatism, which was seated in my shoulders and knee joints, I tried liniments and blistering, but with no effeeL. In fact, the trouble was get- ting worse, and my knee joints greW so stiff that they would snap if I stoop- ed, and I could scarcely straighten up. Altogether I was a terrible sufferer, and nothing I did or took gave me any re- lief until I began the use of Dr. Wil- liams' Pink Pills. I took the Pills stead- ily for a couple of months and every ves- tige of the trouble disappeared. That was two years ago, and as I have had no return of the trouble I feel safe in as- suming that the cure is permanent." Nine -tenths of the common ailments that afflict humanity are due to bad blood, and as Dr. Williams' Pink Pills actually make new blood, that is the reason they cure so many different troubles, such as anaemia, indigestion, rheumatism, eczema, neuralgia, St. Vitus dance, paralysis and the ailments of girlhood and womanhood with all their distressing headaches, backaches and ir- regularities. Sold by all medicine deal- ers or by mail at 50e. a box or six bores for $2.50 from The Dr. Williams' Medi- cine Co., Brockville. Ont. Revival of Ancient Harvest Festival. A unique service was held at Selston, a mining village, yesterday afternoon. At one time Selston was fairly rich in charities but about 100 years ago they were allowed to lapse. Some of the charities consisted in the distribution of bread to the poor on Lammas, or Loafmass day, and also on the tolling of the church bells on Goose Fair eve. This distribution took place from a tomb- stone in the parish churchyard. In or- der to revive this customthe rector held a similar service yesterday, when loaves presented by the parishioners were given away from the same tomb- stone, and in order to enhance their value and the interest attached a silver coin was baked in the loaves.—London Standard. Repeat it:—" Shiloh's Cure will al- ways cure my coughs and colds." A Quiet Homs. "I always make it a very good rule to shut myself away in my own room for one hour every afternoon,." writes '• A .Bother of Ten." "If I didn't, I 'really don't know how I should get on some- times. I look on that quiet hour in the afternoon as an excellent investment, for I come down after it rested, and con- sequently less worried, which is good for everybody in the house—husband, child- ren and maids, if by chance I miss it, I find that everything goes wrong during the rest of the day, and I'm dreadfully irritable and snappish."—Horne Chat. Repeat it:—"Shiloh's Cure will always cure my coughs and colds." Forget ofdt the Old. Nay. don't forget the old folks, boys --they've not forgotten you; Though years have passed since you were home, the old hearts still are true! And not a angle night e'er passes by they haven't the desire To sea your faces once again, and rear your footsteps nigher. So write them now and thea—'tw411 bring fresh light unto their eyes, And make the world glow bright awhile and bluer gleam the skieel You're young and buoyant, and for you Hope holds her outstretoh'd hands, And life spreads out a waveless sea, that laps but tropic strands; The world is all before your race, but let your thoughts ort turn To whore fond hearts still oherish you and loving bosoms yearn, And write the old folks now and then—'twill gladden fading eyes, And make the world glow bright again and bluer gleam the skies, No matter what your duties are, nor whet your place to life, There's never been a time they'd not as- sume your load of strife; Ami shrunken shoulders, trembling hands and forms racked by disease, Would go down to the grave to bring to you the pearl of peaoel So write them now and then—'twill bring the light into their eyes, And kdsae bright awhile and bluer gleam reglows —Will T. Hale 1,1 the Memphis Appeal, BABY'S O%VN TABLETS A BOON TO CHILDREN A medicine that will keep babies and young children plump and good natured, with a clear eye and rosy skin is a blessing not only to the little ones but to mothers as well. Baby's Own Tablets is just such a medickle. They cure all the minor ailments of children and make them eat well, sleep well and play well. They are used exclusively in thous- ands of homes when a child medi- cine is needed. Mrs. G. Collins, Hir- kella, Man., says 1 ---"Baby's Own Tab- lets are the most satisfactory medi- eine I have ever used for ills of young children. They are as good as a doc- tor in the home." Sold by medicine dealers or by ,nail at 25c a box from The Dr. Williams' Medicine Co„ Brockville, Ont.