HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe New Era, 1881-07-14, Page 6et)
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eTtliSr 141881.
-"he never Will do so, Laay Helene., k
is as far from hie thoughts ae from. hune."
Lady are at for Rome moments too
1.1Th
The Lone LEitsri,.
1 put by the half -written poew.
While thepeu, idly trailed in my hand,
Writes on -, Had 'words tz =inlet's it.,
Who'd read it, or who'd underetand 2'
But the little bare feet on the stairway,
And the faint, smothered laugh in MP hall,
And the eerielow hep en the silence,
cry to Oyer it,041.
BO I gathered it up -where was broken
The tear -faded thread of my theme,
Telling bow, aeon() night eat writing,
A fairy broke in on my dream,
A little inquisitive fairy -
My owe little girl, with tile gold
Otthe in her hair. and the dewy
13lue eyes of the fairies of old.
'Twits the dear little girl that 1 seolded•-
inm
• "?or was it a oent like this."
1 said -0 Wheffnhe knew+ I was busy,
To come romping in for a. kiss
Oonie rowdying up from her mother,
And chumoring there at naykuee
For " One Ittle kiss for dollY,
And ono 'ittle uszer for me!"
• Clod pity the heart that repelled her
And the cola head that turned. her awaY
And take.from the live that denied her
Tins answeriess prayer of to -day 1
Take, Lord, froth tueni'ry forever
That pitiful sob of despair,
And the patter and trip of the little be feet,
- And, the one piercing arra!' tawketeir 1
lput by the half.writteu poem.
While the pen idlytrailed in„myhond, ,
• "WrIceii /111erdsto coniplele it,
Who'd reedit or who'd undersand?'
But the littio bare feet on thestairway,
Aud tbe faint, sinothered laugh in molten,
And tho errie-low lisp on the silence,
Ory up to me over it all. . •
Mutt afitOun ed for speeo
"I never inqnired the cause of your
separation, Dora," sbe bad, gently, "and
neverwisil to know it. My sou told me
you could live together no louger. I loved
my own husband; I waa a_ devoted and
affectionate if to him. I bore with his
faults and loved Ilia virtues, so thatI cannot
imagine what I should do were I in your
place. I say to you what I. shall say to
Ronald -they are solemn words-' What
therefore God hath joined together let no
man put asunder.' Now let Me tell you
my opinion, It is this -that nothing QUI
justify such a separation as yours -nothing
but the moat outrageous -offences, or the
most barbarous cruelty. Take the rigbt
course, Mora; sUbt/lit to your husband.
Believe me, women% rights are all fancy
and nonsenee; loving, gentle submission is
the fairest ornament of women. , Even
shonld. Reneld be in the wrong,. tremple
upon all pride and temper, ind make the
drat oxlvaneee to leiree"
"I cannot," said Dora, gravely.
"Ronald was Mame% generous and
chivalrous," continued Lady Earle. "Oh,
Dora, heve you forgotten hew' my boy gave
up all the world for you?*
"No," she replied, bitterly ; nor has he
-forgotten it, Lady Eitele.e - • - •
The remembrance of, whet she thought
her wrouge rose visibly before her. She
saw agape the neagnideent face of„Valentine
Charteris, with itsentlm highlredwondee.
Sh her husband's white, engrY,
LOVERS VE.T.'
(By the authOr of "Aladoline'sX4over.")
CHAPTER XIX.
There were coufusion and disneay in the
stately home of, the Earles. One sultry
morning in August Lord Earle 'went out
into the garden, paying no heed to the
excessive heat. Aci he did not return to
luncheon, the butler went in seareh of him,
and found bis naastet lying as one dead on
the ground. Ile was carried to hie own room,
doctors were eammoned en hot baste from
fee and near; everything that science or
love, skill or wisdom, could -suggest wag
done -fin him, but all in vain. •The hour
had come when must leavehome, rank,
popition, whatever he valued moat
be runst apswer for his life. and
what he haddene with 1e -when he must
account for wealth, talent, for the son given
to him -when *liumen likings,' Minim
passious, would seem so infinitely little.
But, while Lore. Eaele lay:upon the lied
• pale and unconscious; Lady Earle, who
knelt by him and eever leftlim, felt sure
that his /flied euel heart Were both active.
He maid not speak he aid, not seem. to
uneerstend. Who speak;
passes in
those dread naomeuts of silence, when the
light of eternity shows so eleerly all that
we have &mem the past? It may be that
while lie lay there,' hoverieg as it were
between two worlds, the eeinetubrance of
his sou struck him like a two-eaged sword
-his Boa, his only; child, given' to him to
train, pot only for °oath bat for -heaven, -
dm bey he had loved and. idolized, thea
cast off, and allowed to• become a wondere• r
on the face of the earth. It may be ,that
his steru, Stilton pride, his imperioue self -
wilt, his resdlute ersenpling upon:the voice'
of nature old duty, .confronted him in a
new.light shining neon him. Perhaps. his
own wcirds' returned to him, that until' he
lay dead Ronald should never see taxies -
court again, for suddenly, the voice they
thought7huelied forever sounded strangely
in the silence of that death-eharnbere
Bly son!" etied the•dying man, gimping.
his hauds-" mee eon
;The Who eitsv it never forgot the blank,'
.,awful terror thet canoe upon thedying face •
as he uttered, his east. , woras,••
•They bore his weeping wife from die
roe= Lady Earle, strone and reeolate
though the was, could not drive that scene
• from her mind.' She was ill for many
•days, and SO it hapeeued that the Lord .of
• tlierleecoutt hied- in the family vault
,Jong ere the ftimile etethe Eleas• knew* of
the eliange awaiting them. •
• ' ROnald , was sunaneoned hoine In all
, 13aste,, but • mouths passed ere •letters
reitaied‘him, and. Meny. 'more* before he
• refuteied Euglanct •
•tore Earle's will Was brief; there was
no inestitien eflis so'n's tame. There was
: 'a bentisome prevision for Lady Earle, - the
pretterlittle eetate .of Roslyn was settled
• upon her, the servants received, imixtereuff
saw
ipaignanb countenance -his gestures fiill oe
unutterable contempt. Ali, no, never again I
Nothingcould heal that quarrel. _.
"Yoh must take your place in the
woild," continued Lady Helena: " You
are na longer simply letrs, Earle, of the,
'Elms: you are Lady Earle ef Earleaeourt,
wife of its lord, the mother of his children.
Yon have dutiee too numeroes for me to
mention, and you must not shrink from
them." .
• " rrefuee ell," she replied, calmly;
refuse to there your eon's titles, his wealth,
his position, his duties I 'refuse to make
any advances toward • a reconciliation;
'refuse to be reconciled."
"And why ? " asked Lady Helena,
gravely..
A proud flesh rose to Dearaee face -hot
anger, stirred in her heart. '
'Because youreou said' words to me
thealneeer can . end never will forget,"
she eried. "1 eid vrrong-Lady Helena,
was mad, jealoue, did wrong.I
did what I now know to be dishonorable and
degrading. I knew no better, and he might
have pardoned trici,• remembering • that.
*But beforatbe woman I believed to be my
•rival, he bitterly regretted. • haVing Made
me his wefe."
"They were hard: words!" said Indy
Earle, • '
"Very hard" replied •Dora ; "they
broke my heart -they slew me in my
youth; have never lived since then."
"Can you never forgive and forget them,
Dora ?Y' asked° Lady Helena.
"Never," she replied; ".they are burned
bite My 'Watt and on. my beeine • I shall
never forget theret.; year son and I *Must
be *angers:Lady Earle! .we live."
"1 cen say more," sighed Lady Earle,.
Ferliepe mip,litier-V-Oice will Call to you
. •
Dote, and then you Will obey,' •
:• A deep eilence .fell Upon them. Lady
Helena was more grieved and diseonceited
•than she cared' to own: .She ha:a thought
of taking her son's wife end children home,
intriamph, but it was not to be. ,
" Shall We speak of thlreliiideeli now?"
:the asked -at length: " Some:arrangements
. Must he made for them." • .
"'Yes," .eaid 'Dore, le -their father • has
claims upon them I am readyte. yield to
them. . Tele not believe he Will ever' hive.
or care for 0.MM, beeause' they are mine,
At the tepee tune, I give thank up to him
and to you, Lady Emile. The sheeted
and best yearseof their lives belie ,been
spent with me; •'T •Must therefore net
repine: , I !Melee but one stipulation to
make; and is that my children sliall
never hear one ivord against me."
"Thu know little of me," said Lady
Helene, "if you' think such' a thing is
possible. Yois evould rather . part with
your (Mildred than accOmpaiey ehem?"
" Ear Tether," she -replied. "1 'Mow
you will ellow theni to visit me, Lady
Earle. have kenevii for many.years that
such a time must come, end I am .preipared
foe it." •• • .•
"13ue, my deer Dora," Baia Lady 'Earle,
warmly, "have you bewildered whet
'parting. with year-chilareit-impliesthe
solitude, elite desolatioe? .•
. "I know it all," replied Dorm "It Will
be hard but not erhard mar bittet as
living :under the 'same rocf. •with • their
father.* , •
. Carefully arta quietly Eore, ..listened to
:.Lchly Earle's .plagas and arrongements
how ber children were to go tit .L'arles.
court, andtake the ,position 'belonging. to
them. MrseVyvion was to go with them,
and remain until Lord Earle returned.
Until then they were not to be introduced
into society ; it would take some tithe to
accustom them to • so. „greet a •thenge.
WheneeLord Earle returned, . could
pursue what course he would. • '
'" He will be so lamed Or thetal." said
• Lady' Earle. "1 have never. seen a girl so
spirited and beautiful as Beatrice, nor one
• so fair and gentle as Lillian. • 011, Dora, I
should be happy if you were going with
Us21
.•
Never once during the feWdays busy
preparation did Dorces proud courage give
way. The girls at firet refused :to leave
her; they exhausted .thernselves con-
jectures as to her .coutinued. residence at
the ElOSO, and were forced. to be satisfied
with Lady Earle's off -band declaration
that •their mether &mid not endure any
but a quietelife. • ' •
" Mamma has it title noh," said Beatrice,
wonderingly ;'" why will she not • assume
eensitiVe shrinking from new andestiatiouta
timed piplendor.
They were deeply impressed with the
magnificence of their new bow°. 'or
Many long dans Lady Earle employed
herself in teeming them the numerous
*Weems of art and. virtu tlie lioenie con-
tained. The picture gallery pieties&
' Beatrice most; she gloried in the portraite
of the grand old ancestors, "each with a
• story to his name." One morning Ale
steed. before Lady Helena's porttait,
admiring the (striking likeness. • Suddenly
turning to the stately lady by het tilde, she
• said; " All the Ladies Hades are here;
where is my own mamma? 1 -ler facie 'is
• sweet and fair aa any of these. -Why
there no portrait ot her?
• "There will be one some day, said
• Indy Selene,. -e-When your father visit,
returns, all those thinge seen to." Not daring to ask the girla to keep any
"We have no 'brother " •continued secret from Dora, Loy Earle was obliged,
Beattice. "Every baron h'ere seems to to let the letter go. The Passionate, lonely
have been succeeclea by his tent -who will hearthrooded over every -word. Beatrice
sueceed my father?" • dwelt with loving admiration'on the oalin,
• "Ilie next of kin, - replied Lady Earle, grandbeauty ol the Princess, her sweet
sadly -e' Tempi Daore; he is a third cousin and gracious manner, her kindly recolleo-
• of Lord Earle's. He will have both title tion of Dora, and her -urgent invitation to
and estate." them. Dora read it through calmly, each
She sighed deeply; it was a real trouble word stabbing her with oruel pain, e The
to Lady lielena that she should never see
her son's on, neverlove and puree; never
bless the heir of Earlescourt.
Isillime,eelightedsneget io the megnifieeat,
gardens, the thickly wild -wooded park,
where every dell was filled with flowers
and ferns, every knoll crowned with neble
trees. The lake, with white lilies sleeping
on its tranquil bosom, and weeping willow
touching its clear surface, ,pleased her
moot of all, As they -stood on its banks,
Beatrice looking into the traneparents
depths,
Beatrice,
and turned quickly
away.
• "1 am tired of wider," she said; nothing
wearied Inc BO elhell at .11111.1h4Ord as the
wide, restless see. • I must have been
born with ametural antipathy to water:" •
Many days passed before they were
familiar with. Eariestiourt. Every day
brought it e new wonders. •
A pretty auite of rooms had been prepared
for each sister; they were in the western
wing, and eoraniunieated with each other:
The Italian nurse who had come with
theen from • Florence, had preferred
renaaining evith •Dora. Lady Earle had
engaged two fashionable. ladies' Mail* bad
also orderedfor each werdrebe suitable
to the'claughters Of Lord* Earle;
". Mrs. Vyvian hard •two • rooms. near ler
tharges. Knowing some Months might
elapse before •Ronald returned, Lady
Helena settled upen manse of' action.
The young girls were to be kept in seolusiou,
and not to'be introduced to the gay world,
seeingeonly a few o1d friends of the family;
they were to coneinne to stuey for a few
hours every morning, VS drive orwalk with
Lady Earle after luncheon, to join her 17,:t
7 o'cloek dinner, and to pass the evening in
the drawing:room. •
It was a new and -delightful ; 'life; Bea:
trice reveled in the luxury and grandeur..
that.surrounded her. She amused. Lady
Earle by her vivacious description of the
quiet home of the Elms.
"1 feel et home here," 'she, said, " and
I never did there, . At times I wake up,.
halUdreading to hear the rustling of the.
tall elm trees and old Mrs" •Thorue's voice
asking about the "coha." " Poor' manima!
• I cannot understand her taste."
-Whensthey became More acenstomed. to
the new life,. the strange inbongrpity in
heir fancily struck them' berth. On one
aide e. grand Old rice, intermarried with
some of the noblest families in 'England -
a stately Image, title, Weitith, rank, and
position on thenther, 'a simple farmer
and his homely wife, the plain old: borne,
stead, and complete iitol.ation from all they
now considered society,- . ,
. How couldit be? ' Itow came it that
'theie father.wii.s lord elf' Eerleseourt, •and
their enother the . daughter of a • plain
country ferrates.? For the first time it
• still& them both that there eves some
iityetery in the life of their parents, •Both
•grew more shy of speo,kieg :of the Elms,
feeling With the keen instinet peculiar to
youth thatthere Was something unentaral
• in their edeition.
• Visitors came oceasionally toEierlesemett.
,Sig Harry and Laely Lawrence of Holtham
often called; Lady Cliarteris came from
Greenoke s'end all wernely, admired the
lovely daughters of Leta Eerie.
Beatrice with her brilliant beauty, her
magnificent voice, and giey, graceffilmanner,
was certainly . the favorite. . Sir Harry
declared. she Was the finese ,rider in :the
,counery. • • ••• t •
the fair and coquettieh Connteee Boogie,
dill a reiguing belle, and said how warmly
she would welcome them for their father's
sake.
" You talk OQ much of Italy," said Val-
entine to Beatrice -"it is just the land for
the romance you love. You shall Bee blue
sky and sunny seas, vines, and myrtles,
and orange. trees in bloom ; you 441 see
0110h luxuriance and beftuty that yen will
never wish to return to this cold, dreary
England." .
It was thus arranged that, when Lord
Earle returned, the visit ehoula be paid.
The evening after their •guests' departure
seemed long and Mate,
.11 will write to inesamaa," said Beatrlee
'it is strange ahe never told tie anything of
bee friend. mast tell her ell about the
•. legacies, Sir HaTry Lawrence), and Sir.
Hugh-Ghteeterisewerereeach-to-receive-a
' magnificent mourning ring; but there
' was no mention of the once -loved son and
heir.
As heir-at-law everything was Ronald's
-the large atiount of money the late
lord had saved,, title, estates, ev,erything
• reverted to him.. ButRonald would lave
' exchanged all for •one line of forgiveness,
one word bf pardon from the father he had
never ceased to love'.
It was arranged that until Ronalds'
• return his mother ehould continue to reside
at Earlescourtealid the management of the
• estates shonld be intrusted to Mr.Burt, the
• family solicitor.
Lady Earle reso tve to go to the Elms
herself ; great ehanges must be made there.
Ronald's wife and children must . take
•their place in the world; and she felt e
• proud satisfaction in thinking that, thanks
to her sensible and. judicious management,
• Dora would, fill be future position with
credit. She anticipated. lienald's delight
• when he should sae his beautiful', actiona-
plished daughters. • Despite •her, greet
sorrow, the lady of Earlescourt fele setae.
degree of hope for the future. She wrote
• to the Elms, telling Dore of her husband's
• death, and amuouncing her own comitig ;
then the little household anderstood. that
their qttiet, and solitude had ended fbrever.
The first thingwee to provide handsome
moaruing. • Dora was strangely quiet
and sad through all. The girls asked a
hundred. questione abouttheir father, whom
they longed to seq. They knew that he
had hitt home •• in consequence of, sorne
quarrel with. h is tattle r --so much Lady Earle
told thern-but they hover dreamed that
his marriage had ceased the fataedisagree-
!neut.; they never knew'that, fot theit
mother's • Bake, Lady Earle carefully
ecamectled all kuowledge of it from them.
Lady Earle reached the Elms one
evening iti the beginning of September:
She asked first to eee Dore alonw.
Dating the long years Dora hita grown
• to love the etittely, gentle lady, who • was
llonald's mother. She etild not resist her
. sweet; gracious diguity • and winning
meaner. So, wheti Lady Earle, before.
seeing hoe grandalaughtere, Went to Dore's
mem, wishing for a long eepetiltaticie
with her, Dora received her with gentle,
reverential affection. •
"1• wish to Ode you first," Said Lady
Helene, Earle, "so' that we may, -arrange
our• plane before the children know
anything of thorn. Ronald will return to
England in a few months. Dore, what
course shall yon adept ?" .
" None," she replied. %sour eon's return
has nethieg Veltrevet to do with Inc."
" But surely, seid Lady Heinle.; ".for
tho children's' sake you will not reitise at
• least outward sheve Of reconciliation?"
hir. Earle ha a net %Sited it," said Dora
•
"tour mother's tastes are simple and
plain," replied Lady Earle. "lir wishes
intuit be treated. with respect." •
Dora did not give way until the two
felt faces that heel brightened her. house
vanished. When they were gotie, and a.
strange, hushed silence fell upon the place;
pride and coat:age gave way. • In thitt hour
the very bitterness of death seemed . to be
upon. her. • ' .
CHAPTER: ).X,
• It was a preuctmerneat tor Lady Earle
when -she led the 'two young girls through
the lino of Servants assembled to receive
thern. ,They were both silent front sheer
wonder, They had •left .Floteucto at so
early an age that they had not the faintest
remembtanee of the pretty villa on the
batiks of the Arno. their .ideas were.
centered in the Elms -they had never
Seen any other hereto.
Lady Earle watched the different effect
prochleed upon themby the firet glimpse
of Earleseourt. Lillian grew pale; she
trerahlede her wondering eyes filled with
tears. Beatrice, on the contrary, seenaed
instantly to take in the spirit of the piece.
Her face unshed; a proud light °tree into
her glorious eyes; her heuglity bead was
Carried more regally than ever. There was
no timidity, no shyly•expressed wonder, no
tears that rushed warmly to his eyes when
the towers and turrets of Earleeeourt
OM() in sight.
allarn ;muse of pain filled hie heart -
keen regret, bitter remorpe longing for
power to undo al). that wasidelle to recall
the lost, miserable years -the beat of hie
life. Ea might return; he might do his
beet to atone for his error; but, neither
repentance neratenement could give hipX
back the father whose pride he had
humbled in the duet,
As the carriage roiled tip the broaddrive,
a hundred instance e of hie father's love
andindulgence flashed across him -he had
never refused any request save one. He
wisely and tenderly tried to dissuade him
from the false step that could never be
"recreedin-ebut
earleldibililafialtherei Nee on that
morning when, with outstretched bands,
he bade him leave his presence and never
Beek it more; when he told him • that
whenever he.looked upon his dead, face, he
Was to remember that death itself was leaf+
bitter than the hour in which he had been
deceived.
Sad, bitter :memories *filled hie. heart,
when the carriage stopped at the door and
Ronalcreanglit sight of old tenant= faces,
old, fierce jealousy rose etrong in her • some In Beide% some in tears.
heart, crushing every gentle thought. Shej The library door was thrown open.
tore the lettee so full of Valentine, into a
•thousantahreds.- - - • '
"She drew my husband from me," she
cried, "with the miserable beauty of her
fair face, and now she will win my
children."
Then across the fierce tempest of jealous
auger eame one thought likes ray of light.
Valentine was married; she had married
the wealthy, powerful _Prince who had
been Ronald's patron; se that after all,
evert if she hadlured Ronald from her, he
had not oared for her, or she .had. BMW
ceased -to care for him. •
Beatrice thought it still more strange
;whenher mother's reply to that long,
enthusiastic letter came, Dora geed simply
'that she had metier named the Princess
Borgezi, because she was a person whom
she did not care to remember.
Fifteen months paned, and at length
came a letter from Lord Earle saying that
he hoped to reach England before Christ -
mace and, in any ease would be with them
by Christneas•day. It was a short letter,
written in the hurry of travelling; the
words that touched his children most
were, "I am glad you leave the girls at
Earlesoourt; I am • anxious- to see whet
they are like. Make them,happy, mother;
let -them have all they want; and, if it be
possible, after my long neglect, teach
them to love me."
The letter contained no mention of their
mother ;no allusiou *ea made to her. The
girls Merited the weeks go by in Boma little
trepidation, What if, after all, this father
Whom they did not remember should not.
like them./ •Beatrice did not think such a
• thing very prolate. but Lillian passede
many an hour innervus, fanciful alarm.
It was strange how completely all the
• old life had died away: Both bad felt a
hied 43f affection for the homely farmer
and his wife -they sent many presents to.
them -bat Beatrice would earl her proud
lip in scorn 'when she read aloud that "Mr.
and Mrs.. Thorne desired their humble
dutyto Lady L'arle.'-'• - • •,„
Lady Earin felt no 'anxiety about her
eoneereturu ; looking at his daughters, she
saw no fitult in them. Beautiful, accom-
plished, and grateful, what more could he
• desire IShe inwardly thanked Provident:le
that neither of them bore the leacit resem-
• blance to the Thornes. Beatrice looked
like 'one of the LadiesEarle just stepped out
from a picture; Lillian in her fair, dove-
like lovelines. was quite asi Oharming.
Whatewould Lady 'Earle-e;.so truthful, so
honorable -:-have thought or said had she
known that her brilliant favorite with the
Earle face had plighted her troth, unknown
• teeny one, to the captain: of a trading.
:vessel, who watette claim her in two yearce
for his wife? • ,
• Lady Earle lad fermed her own Plans
ler Ileatrice ; she hoped •tbe time would
• come when -she' Would be Lady Eerie of
Eatleszourt. • Nothing •wield be more
delightful, nothing easier, provided Beateice
would marry the yeeteng heir, Lionel Dacre.
One morning, as the sisters at in.
Lillian's room, Lady Earle outdred with
an unusual expression of emotion on her
fair, high -bred face; she held an open
letter inher hand. •
• "My.dear • children,* she •said, "you
must each look your very best this evening.
I have a note here -your father Will be
home to.night."-
The calm, proud voice faltered thepaand
the stetely mistress ofeEfeeleseottrt-weptat
the thought of her son's return as she had
never wept sine° he left her. •
Hardly knowing windier he went, Lord
Earle entered, -and. --it- was-elesed- behind
,bim His eyes, dimmed with tears, saw fa
tall, stately lady, who advanced to 'meet
hire with open serme.
The face he remembered so fair and
oelm bore deep mark e of sorrow ; the proud,
tender eyes were shadowed; the glossy
hair threaded with silver; but it was his
reotherea voice that cried to him,' My 8011,
ray son, thank heaven you are returned !"
He never' remembered how long hits
mother bola hire clasped in her arms.
Earth bas Milne like a reedier's love -
none so tender, so true, so full of sweet
efisdora, so replete with pity and pardon,
It was her own son whom Lady Earle held
in leer arms. he forgot that he was a
mad whet had had incurred jecit displeasure.
He was her boy, her own treasure; and Be
• it -was that her words of greethig were all
of loving welcome.
"How chaeged you are!" she paid,
• drawing him nearer to the last -fading
light. "Your face is quite bronzed, and
you look BO many years older -so sad, so
worn ! Oh, Ronald, I'must teach you to
grow young and happy again!" • .
Ile sighed cleeply, and his mother's heart
grew sadas she watched hes restleessface.
"Old-fashioned. copy -books say, mother,.
•that,'" to elehappy, oue must be good.'
• have not been good," he said, with a slight
"and I shall never be happy." ,
In the faint, waning light, thropgh which
the snow- gleamed strangely, mother mad
son sat talking. Lady Earle told Ronald
of hie fietheyes death, of that last yearning
ery when all the pent.up love of . years
seemed toTtuth forth and overpower liina
with its force. It was some comfort to
him, after all, that hie father's last thoughts
and last words had been of him.
• His heart was straugele softened; a new
hope came to him. •Granted that the beet
part of his life was wasted, he would do bus
best with the remainder. • • '
"And my children," he said-" my -poor
*ill not see diem until -ram
calm and refreshed. 1 kuow they aree well
and happywith you."
Then taking advantage* of hie .mood,
Lady. Helena sad • what , she had been
loughig to eay.•
• There -was -an unusuarstir-orpteparateop_
once when Lady Earle told there that the
daughter of her ' devoted friend Lady
Charter's was coming to spend a few dere
at Eaelescourt. Then, for the first time,
they saw the beautiful , and stately lady
whosefate was so strangely interwoven
witirtheire.
• Valentine Charteris was no hanger "the
queen of the county:" Prince Borgeei had
won the beautiful, Englishwoman.' ' Ile
followed her to Greenoke, and repeated'his
-question: There • wae neither coquetry
nor affection in Valentine -she had thought
the matter over, and decided that she was
never likely to meet with any one else she
liked and respected so mach seller Italian
lover. He had the virtues, without the
faults, of the Children of the South, a
lavishly generous, princely disposition, well
cultivated artistic tastes, good principles,
and a chivalrons sense of honor:- Perhaps
the thing that touched her most was his
great love for her. • In many reepeats he
resembled Ronald gage more nearly. than
Nay one else she lad' ever met. • -
• To the intense delight of both parents,
Miss Charteris , accepted hire, For her
sake; the Prince consented to spend every
alternate year in England. ••
Three. times had the.whole country -side
weleomed the stately Italian and his
beautiful wife; This was their fourth
visitto England, and, when the Princess
beardfremlady Charteris that Ronald's
two daughtera, whOtu she remembered as
little babes, were at Earleseourt, nothing
would satisfy her but a visit there.
• The young girls looked in admiring
*ender at the lady., They bad' never seen
any one eci dazzling or so bright. The
talru, grand Grecian face had gained in
beauty, the magnificent headwith it'
wealth • of golden hair, the tall, stately
figure, aharmed them; And; when -Val-
entine took them in her arm and kissed
them, her thotights went back to the white,
wild face in the garden and the eark eyes
that had flamed in hot auger upon. her.
"1 loam your mother years ago," he
said,; "has she never teentionecl nay name/
I used to nurse you both in the little •villa,
at Florence. / was one of your tether's
oldest friends."
•
No, they had never heard her nettle; and
Beatrice wondered that her mother 'could
havedolowe and forgotten one -so beautifier.,
'as the Prineess.
The week she remained passed like
long bright drown: * Beatrice almost
worshipped Valentine; %hie iii what she
.had -dreamed of long ago; this was one of
the ideal ladies living in the bright gay
world she was learning to understand.
When • the Prince and Brincese left
Earlerfeourt they liked0 Lady Helene
ptornise that Beatrice and Lillian ldeild
Visit thorn at '.214arence. 'They spoke of
' •• •CHAPTER •XXI.
Once more Ronald Earle stood.upen
Englishshores ; once main he head his
mother tongue spokee by all around. him;
once again lie felt the &arm of quiet,
sweet English scenery:Seventeen years
badpassed (duce. he had taken Dora% hand
in his, and told her he cared nothing for
all he was leaving behind him, nothing • for
any one in the world save herself --seven-
teen years, andlis love -dream had lasted
but two I' Then eame the cruel shoele that
had blinded him with anger and sham,e;
then game the rude awakening from his
dream when, looking his life bravely in the
face, he found it nothing but 'a burden-'
hope. and ariabition ' gene -the . grand
pohitioal miseion he had once believed to be
his own impossible -nothing left to him of
his glorious dreams }nit existence -and all
for what? • For the mad, foolish love of a
pretty face. 'He hated himself for "his
weakness and folly. Fat that -for the foe;
foolish woman who had *shamed him so
sorely -he had hell broken his inother's
heart, ancl had embittered his father's life.
'For that he had made himself an exile, old
in his youth, worn and weary, when life
should have been all smiling - around hirn.
• These thoughts flashed through hie mind
as the express train whirled. through the
quiet English landscape. Winter meows
hal:nailed, the great bare branches of the
tall trees were gaunt and snow.ladee, the
fields Were one vast expense of SAW, the
eroat had hardened the icicles hanging
front hedges and trees. ,The scene seemed
strange to him after we many years of the
tropical OWL 'Yet every breath of the
• sharp, frosty air invigorated him, and
broughthim new life and energy;
•• At length the little station was "reached,
and he sew the carriage with 'its liveried
servants awaiting, him. A. warm flush rose
to Lard Earle's face; for e moment he felt
almost . ashamed • of meeting his own
domestics, They /mast all know whY be
had left hem°. His own valet, Morton,
was there. Lord Earle bad kept hint, and
the man had asked permission to go and
meet his old master,
Ronald was pleased to ,see hire': there
were a few win& of tourtemis greeting
from Lord Earle to all around, and a feW
Mill kinder words to 'Morton. •
Oticaagain Rouge saw tlio old trees Of
whieb be bad dreamed so often, the dately
cedars, the grand epreading °aka, the tall
wane, the ehady beeches, the groves. of
poplars• -every elicit was familiar to him,
In •the distanthe saw the lake shining
through the trees ; he drove past the
'extensive gardens, the orchards new bare
and empty. go was not aehareed Of the
„ •
Ronala," she.began, " I have had much
to auffer. YOu will never ktiow low my
heart has been torn between my husband
and my sou. Let my few last yam's. be
spent in peace." ' . . •
• ,
"They shall, Mother, he snide "Your
happiness shall be my study." .
"There. can be no rest for me," continued
his mother, "unless alt division in our
•family elide. Ronald, 1, who never asked
you a fewer Wert, ask onenow. SeekThera
andebting her home reconciled and happy.",
A dark; angry frown, *such 'MI she .had
'never seen there before, came on to Lord
Earle's face. ." -• '
"Anything but that," hdeeplied hastily'
--"1 cannot do it, mother: I coela nob if
I lay.upon my death -bed,"
"And why?" staled Lady Helene,.
"For. a •hiindred reasons, the first and
greatest of whichis that she bail outraged
all my notions lof honor, shamed and
degraded •me • the • presence ' of ' one -1
esteemed and revarede, she has— But
of .roy wife's errors,
I .connot forgive her,
no harm; let her have
frank, high spirit aud. fearieee. Word's.
.Then he attsV e. .golden heed,with: sweet,
dove -like eyee mood: to his,
muoioal vooirioE.;10ia;n‘i Ltacita,a"t anlated, ;,10.094selea_riv
44:1‘ 11: 4:1741'3botliccharmed -with the gentle
gvaceof her manner' and the fe4r,1?1trcifece,
uTihriar
eziLmOsfa Earle took hetlihie children in
"1 wieli," he :Paid, ip abrolten voice and
with tears in his eyes, " diet e hose seen
you before. They told me my little twin.
oble4itidIr den ob rgerooliwzi: iitti.,to beautiful girls,.
And again' . WhO4 0110 ea w hia proud
happinese, Lady Helena longed to plead
fete the mother of his •eleitaremethat he
might also eliare in hia love.; but shedazed
not. MO words haunted her. Dore
would be forgiven only in the hour of death.
Me be °with:1144.1 ,
leion .Preseina 111 Might colors.
(Warehousemen's and Drapers' Journal!)
It would be impossible to take a walk in
Paris just new and not notice the brilliant
coloring of the masculine garb. One has
been so long ageouatomed ta an undigturhed
variety of the drabs and . grays that the
blues and greensand russeta of to -day aee
quite startling. True, it has been led up
•to somewhat by-the-MixtureErieto-Nthieh
the gayest colors were introduced, but in
such small quantities that at a Very short
•distance they lose their individuality and
,produce no positive effect. Now, however,
luau lo not coquet with color; they go in.
for it wholesale, ancl there is no mistake
about. the tints they choose, for their
nether garments in particularr some of
which are of the brightest blue, while
• others again Affect a most decided greenieh '
hue. These are worn,with contrasting
ceats---russets, or cOmbinettoris of brown
end fawn. Long before men thought ,of
imprisoning their legs in blue, or buttoning
up their chests in brown or yellow, they
went in for bright -tinted hose. The cravats •
are rich irt tone, shofend Allred like the
ladies' •dresses. This summer in the
country it will be the vogue to wear shirts
in plain zephyr cloth, dark and fax blue, '
corn and gray, and for a long time past
nightgowns have been prettily embroidered
in the Russian style with blue and red.
no, I will net epee
• it were unmanly.
mother. wish 11
every hum math ean.procure, but
do not tante her to-mes-at shealetbentterlye
devoid of all -Pride if I could pardon her..
" Pride on your side," said Lady Earle,.
-aadly, "and. tereper on hers! Oh, Ronald
•how will it end? Be wise in time; the
most honest ahd the noblest man is
he who eoriquers himself. - Conquer your
self, my Son, and pardon Dora.'
" could poreeasily die," he replied.
" Then," said Lady Earle, sorrowfully,
I must say to you as I said to Dora -
beware ; pride and temper tenet bend and
break. 13e warned in time."
"Mother," interrupted Bonilla, bonding
over the pale face scefull of emotion, " let
this be the last time. You distress your-
•Eielf and me; do not renew the sabjebt. I
may forgive her in the hour of death -not
before.' • . • :
Lady Helena's lastlope died away ; she
• had thought that in the first hour of his
return, when old memories had. softened
his heart, she woula prevail on him to seek
his wife whona he had ceased to love, and
for their ehildren's sake to take her home.
She little dreamed that the coining, h,ome,
the recollection of bus father -the ghost of
his lost youth and blighted hopes rising
every instante-had hardened him against
the wife for whom he had lost all. .
„ "You will like to see the children now,'
(mid Lady Helena; "1 will ring for lights.
Yea will be charmed with both. Beatrice
is much like you -she has the Earle face,
and, Unless I am mistakeu, the Eerie.
epirit, too."
Ladies and Railway Santa.
'• Speaking ofthe comperative -merits 01
the .t compartment" and of the" saloon "
railway oar, Prof. Alden, of the New
York Times, observes that the cliief• fault
of our railway care is the demoralizing
effect which the reversible seats exert
upon WOMOti.. In order that the paseene• '
gers shall not be compelled to ride bank •
-
ward on at least half the trains, the banks.
of the seats must be wide to turn over.
This enables any woman who.,enters &oar
early to turn over the back of the seat in
front•of her,'and to attempt to occupy four •
• seats. It has been estimated that 64 per..
cent, of all ourwortuni area prey' to this
devouring passion. With. mi pertisol, or a ,
sniall hand bag, or even a pair of gloves
placed on, the 'seat Were her, •Such
woman will try to retain her .feur seats,
though a dozen men and women' May,
..thereby.be.compellekto-dandin• -
Of the women now in. State Prison ninety-
seYeii iiievery hundred began their down -
•ward career by turning over the backs of
seats' in railway ()ere. Upon the men -who
wituessthia sort ..of .railway ontrag,e the .
effeee is to cause them to' lose. all con-
fidence in women, and to regard the whole.
sex as unprincipled, selfishmed dishonest.
• nenth from Timm Conennt.
The evils ot:tight lacing were shown .at
an inquest which Was held last week at
Kilburn non' the body of Mrs. Amelia Jury.
Di. Hill stated that upon making a 'post •
mortem. examination 'be found that the, .
stoteach was contracted in the Middles by •
a drift band, narrowing it to one-eighth of
its usual size, so there were virtaally two '
stomachs, and this contraetion was on a.
level with a deep indention on the liver,
odrrespending to .where the stays were
tightly bmincltrmind. .-The liver itself. was
flattened out, and watt driven down very
deep into the pelvis also, and there was no
doubt but whae this was also produced by .
tight lacing. • Thead
, coroner (d that he
sometime ago had held an inquest 'where it
Was shown .that the liver lied. been very.
seriously iejnred through tight iitobig,..ana
perhaps these cases would ect as a eaution
against the preotices now tielopted.-Gla?.
yew Ivan. • r.
• roimoned by Eating Cariennbg..
froni Port Jarvis (N. Y.) Beim
Hattie, k 4-yearebld: child • of Engineer
Edward Outwin, on Saturday last, ate
Borne currants trona -bushes in the yard of ,
her father. • Soon afterwards she was
taken violently sick, • and for oe long time
was hi spasms. A physician pronounced.
It a case of Poisoning.. Antidotes restoree.
the Will(' to • consciousness, when she told
what she had eaten. The doctors said that
She .hadbeezi poisoned by a species of worm
that infest e the currants. The ohild may
recover. . • •
Immense rower, ,
" Do you know," said the ceptaiii, "that. a
fathom of steel -wire rope, little thicker
than your cane and. • weighing half a pound'
a, foot, will pull as . much as a hemp rope
• hairier:a-thick end weighing a, pound:Ind .
a half a
I, " no thicker than • a straw, to draw
nian weighing 200 pounds the whole length
of Broadway." e•
• e Oh, come now I" exelaircied the obtuse
Britoe.
" Yes, sit; it 'was a hair pin." •
"Beatrice," said Lilliap, as they
descended the broad • staircase, "I am
trightened. • 1 wish. If could remember
something of papa. -his voice or his sneile;
it is like going to BOO a stranger, And
suppose, After all, he does. not like' Uji
SePp0Be-What is't;g greater import:.
once," said Reatrice, prendly--" that we
do not.like hinal '
But, for all her high spirits and hauteur,
Beatrice elmost trembled me the library
door opened, and Lady Earle IMMO forward
to rnoet them. Beatrice raised her Oyes
datintleszly, and saw before her a tall,
stately gantlet:4am, with a handsome face,
the saddest, the noblest elm had ever seen
-cheer, keen eyes that eeemed to pierce
through all dieguiee toad road all thoughts..
'! There is Beatrice," said Lady Helena,
as she too li her hand gently; and Ronald
looked in startled wonder et- to superb
beauty of the face and figure before him.
Beatrice," he saicl, kissing the proud,
bright, face," can it be poasible Whon I
OW you leet you were a helplese ohild,"
"1 am not helplees now," Aber replied,
With,p, smile; "arid I hope you are going
to love me *ery mach, papa. Yen have to
Make tip for fifteeh years' absence. Ithittk
it will not be very diedeult to love you.'.'
• He eeemod dazzled by lier beauty -her
"1 have ktovin a piece of wire cap,"taid
• While in England 80,in Germany II and.
in France 13 letters are transniitted per
annum per head of the population, in Rua- ,
out the number is under one per head. The, •
'Moscow correspondent of the Cologne'
Gazette attributes this partly to the know-
ledge *olio Russia letters are opened in
the most unscrupulous.. manner. Every .
post official, every captain of a district or
pace oflieer, or other appendage of the
authorities, thinks himself entitled to open.
letters, The fear of having their affairs
•aisclosed must frighten a great many cor-
iespondents. Of course, want.of education
halo bo wed, bat there is a third. impe-
diment to the development of postal inter.
course, viz., the primitive conditiou of the
means of intereourae. There are towns in
Bassin, where, a poatinati only brings letters
dime a, month, and in some of the largest
towns there is only a post twiee a week.
"Doecon," Said tlio Widow, she gently
stroked in a feline manner the Maltese
tabby that evidently lay in her lap for that
purpose, "Don't you:long for spring, with
ite balmy breath, its warm aunahine and
its gentle showers, Which awakens nature,
and puts life into everything that has htia
cold aha dead during the long winter, totid.
brings everything up out of"the cola, cold
ground into light end Mc? "Web, hardly,
widow," responded the old dea.cou ; "yen
know I buried iny second wife lest fall.''
A. son and heir has been born to the Mar-
quis of Mao, Nabo has been ten years Mar -
vied. His ether child, a daughter,was born
five yee.rs ago,