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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Sentinel, 1881-08-26, Page 2Taint Day. That day was one of those sweet rare days That only come in June, When hearts breathe forth instinctive praise, And pulses are in tune; Am. o'er the hill and o'er the lea my own true lover came to me That day. I know that skies were never so blue, Or flowers e'er half so sweet. And ue'er a road so smoothly white Did lie 'neath trees that bent to greet As where we met, my lover and Met once in spite of our destiny, That day. 'Twas but a glimpse of the "might have been," A clasp of hands o er years, A brief forgetting of worldly din, A precedent of tears; 'tea life, with its ceaseless ebb and flow, •—• two lives, their weal and woe, day. Yet 'twill stand forth on memo.: Marked with a snow-white stone; 'Twill come to meet in the land unseen, When each shall claim his own; , And we can wait, my love and I, Holding in trust from memory That day. LOVERS VET. (hv the a.uthor of " Madoline's Lover.") "You do not look cruel, Mr. Fernely," contin,ued Lillian. "Your face is good and true—I would trust you. Release my sis- ter. She was but a foolish, impetuous child when she macle you that promise. If she keeps it, all her life will be wretched. Be generous and release her." "Did she bid you ask me ?" he interro- gated. "No," she replied; "but do you know what the keeping of that promise will cost her? Lord Earle will never forgive her. She will have to leave home, sister, friends —all she loves and values most. Judge whethershe could ever care for you, if you brought this upon her." " I cannot help. it." he said gloomily. "She promised to be my wife, Miss Lillian —heaven knows 11 am speaking truthfully —and I have lived on her words, You do not know what the true love of a strong man is. I love her so that, if she chose to place her little fo upon me, and trample the alife out of m I would not say her nay. I must see h r—the hungry, yearn- ing love that fills ' y heart must be satis- fied." - Great tears shone in his eyes, and deep sobs shook h strong frame - "1 will not harth her," hesaid, "but I 'must see ,her. Once; and mice only, her . beautiful face 1ay on my breast—that beautiful proud ace! - No mother ever yearned to see he4 childagain More than I long to see her]let her come to m& Miss Lillian ; let me k eel at her feet as I did before.- If .she se ds me from her. there will be pity in teath ; but, she ; cannot There is not a w roan in the world who could send such lcve as mine away! :- . ' "You cannot understand," he continued- " It is more tha two years since I left her; night and ay her face has been before me. I hay lived upon my love; it is my life—my everything. I could no More drive it. frona my breast than I could . , - tear my heart from my_ body and still live on." "Even if my sister cared for you," said Lillian, gently—fOr , his passionate words touched her—" yells niust know that Lord Earle would nev r allow' her to keep such !crL a promise as she ade." , "She knew node ng of Lord Earle when it was made," he r plied ; s mer did I. She was a beautiful child, pining away like a. bright bird shut npin a cage. I promised her freedom and liberty-; Bhe promised me - her -love. Where svas LordEarle then? She was safe with me.- I loved her, I,was kinder to her than her own father, I took care of her—he did, not" - "It is all changed now," said Lillian. "Bu f" I cannot ; change," he answered. "If fortune had Made me a king, should I have loved your "sister less? Is a man's ' heart a Plaything? Can I call back my - love? It has caused me woe enough." Lillian knew net what to say in the pre- -- settee of this mighty love, her gentle efforts at mediation were hootlesss She pitied him —she pitied Beatrice. -" - - - ' "1 am sure yen can be generous," she said, after a short - silence. "Great, true,' noble hive is never selfish. My sister can , never be happy with you -I -then release her. If you force her, or try to force her, to keep this rash promise, think how she avill dislike you If you are generous, and release her, thin how sliewillesteem you, "Does she not hove me?" he asked; and his veice Was hoaree with pain. "No," repliedf illian, gently, " it , is J better for you to -know the truth. She do n love you-.-she-never will." - " I do t believe it !"he cried. "1 will. * never believe it from any lips but her own 1 Not love me. ..Great heavens' Do you know You are speaking of the woman who promised to be my wife? If she tells -me so, I will, believe her." "She will tell yhu," said Lillian, "and _ you must not blame her. Come again when she is well," "No," returned Hugh Fernely, 'I have waited long enough. I am here to see her, and I swear I will pot leave until- she has . 'spoken to me." He drew a -pencil -case from, his pocket and wrote a few lines on the envelope which Beatrice had sent. -, "Give that to ' your sister," he' said, - 'softly; "and, Miss Lillian, I thank you for coming to me, You have a fair, true face Never breaka man's heart for pas time, or because the long sunny hours - hang heavy nponl your hands." "1 wish I coil say .something to com- fort you," she said . He held, out his hand, and she could not refuse hers - " G-ood-bye, Misa Lillian' Heaven,' ess ' you for your sympathy." " Good-bye," she returned, looking at the dark handsome face she was never -more to. seeie The moon was hidden - behind a dense mass of thick [clouds. Hugh Fernely, walked quickly own the path. Lilli i taking the folded paper, hastened across the gardens. - But neither of them, saw a tall, erect figure, or a pale stricken face, neither of them heard Lionel Dacre utter a low cry as the shawl fell from Lil- lian's golden head._ - . - He had tried everthe-trio, but it did. not please him, he did not want music—he veanted Lillian.1 =Beatrice played badly, too, as though she did not know what she was doing. Plainly 'enough Lord Airlie wanted him out Of the way. "Where are you going ?" asked Beatrice, as he, placed the Music -on the piano. To look for it good cigar," he replied. "Neither Airlie nes you need pretend to be polite, Bee, and say you hope I shall not leave you." He quitted the drawing -room, and went to his own room, where a box of cigars awaited him. He selected one, and went out into the garden to enjoy it, Was it chance that led him to the path by the shrubbery? The wind swayed the tall branches, but there came a lull and the murmur of voices. Looking over the hedge, he saw the tall figure of a man, and the slight figure of a young girl Shrouded in black. " A mald and ):or ""• ' • 1 "Now that is not pre- cisely the kind of thing Lord Earle would like ; still, it is no business of mine." But the man's voice struck him—it was full of the dignity of true passion. Ile wondered who be was. He saw the youth.; se place her hand in his for a moment, and t ethnhougaas bt e inrapidlyses t ar iwe ka eyn. mad when the black shawl fell, and showed in the faint moonlight the fair face and golden hair of Lillian Earle. When ii1lian re-entered the drawing - room the pretty ormolu clock was chiming half past 0. The chess and card tables were just as she had left them. Beatrice and Lord Airlie were still at the piano. Lionel was nowhere to be seen. She went up to Beatrice and smilingly asked Lord Airlie if he could spare her sister for five minutes. "Ten if you wish it," he replied, "but no longer;" and the two sisters walked through the long drawing -room into the little boudoir. " Quick, Lillian," cried Beatrice. "Have you seen him? What does he say 2" "1 have seen him," she replied; "there is no time now to tell all he said. He sent this note ;" and .Lillian gave the folded paper into her sister's hand, and then clasped both hands in her own. "Let me tell you, Beatrice,, darling, before you read it," she said, "that I tried to soften his heart; and I think, if you will see him yourself, and ask for your free- dom, you will not ask in vain." ' A light that was dazzling as sunshine came into the beautiful face. "Oh. Lilly," she cried, "can it betrue 1 Do not mock me with false hopes; my life seems to tremble in the balance." He is not cruel," said Lillian. "1 am sorry for him. If yon see him I feel sure he will release you.. See whatehe says." Beatrice opened the letter;.it contained but a few penciled lines. ' She did not give them to Lillian to react. " BEATRICE," wrote Hugh Fernely, "you must tell me with your own lips. that you do not love ,me. -You must tell me your- self that every sweet hope you gave me was a false lie. I will not leave Earles courtagain withoutseeingyon. On Thurs: day night, at 10 o'clock, I will be at the same place—meet me, and tell me if you want your freedom. Heen.'? "1 shall Win!" she cried. Lilly, -hold my hands—they tremble with happiness. See, I cannot hold the paper. He will release me, and T shall not lose my love— my love, who is all the world to me. How must I thank you? This is Tuesday; how shall I live until Thursday? I feel as though.; a load, a burden, the weight of which no words can tell, were taken from na& - Lilly, I shall be Lord Airlie's _wife, and you. will have saved me." "Beatrice," said Lord Earle, as the BIB- ters, in returning, passed by the chess table, " ouegame is finished; win you give us a song?" Never had ,the magnificent voice rung out so joyously, never had the beautiful face looked so bright. She sang something that was like -the air of triumph—no under cur - 1 rent of sadness marred itspassionate sweet- ness—Lord Airlie bent over her chair enraptured. =, 'You sing like one inspired, Beatrice," he said. "1- was 'thinking of you," she replied ; and he saw by the- dreamy rapt expression of her face that she meant what she had said Presently Lord Airlie was summoned to Lady Helena's 'assistance in sortie little argument overa'cards, and 13eatrice, while her fingers strayed mechanically over the keys, arrived -at her decision. She would see Hugh. She could not avert that ; and she must meet him as bravely as she could After, all, Lillian had said, he was not cruel, and he did love her. The proud lips (Ruled in scoruful triumph as she thought how dearly he 16Ved. her. She would appeal to his love, and beseech him to release her. She would beseech him with such urgency that he could not }refuse. Who ever refused her Could she not move men's hearts as the wind moves the leaves?. Ile would be angry at first, per- haps fierce and passionate, but in the end she would prevail, As she sat there; dreamy tender melodies s stealing, as it were, from'her fingers, she went in fancy through the whole scene. She knew how silent the sleeping woods would be—how dark .and still the night. She could ima- gine Hugh's face browned by the sun and travel. Poor Hugh 1 In the overflow of her happiness she fielt more kindly toward him She wished him Well. .He might marry some nice girl in his -own station of live, and be a prosperous, happy man, and she would be a good friend to him if he would let her. _No one would ever know her secret Lillian would keep it faithfully, and downthefair vista of years, she saw herself Lord -Airlie's beloved wife, the error of her youth repaired and forgotten The picture was so pleasant that it was no *sander her songs grew moretriumphant Those who listened to the music that night ver forgot it, ' CHAPTER XXXVII ionel Deere stood _for some minutes ned with the shock and surprise. He laid not be mistaken, unless his senses la,yed him false, it was Lillian Earle. whom he had mistaken for a maid meeting her lover. It was the Lillian he had believed- so pure and guileless who had stolen from her father's house under the cover of night's darkness and silence—who had. met in her father's grounds one whom she dared not meet in the light of day. If his dearest friend- had sworn this to . . . . Lionel, he would not have believed it His own senses he could not doubt The faint, feeble moonlight had. as surely fallen on the fair face and golden hair of Lillian Earle as the sun shone by day in the sky: He threw away his cigar, and ground his teeth with rage. Had the skies fallen at his feet; he could not have b n more startled and amazed. Then, af r all women were alike.-- There was in them no truth, no goodness; the whole world were alike. Yet he had believed in her so ire oli- citly—in her guileless purity,her truth, her freedom from every taint of the world. That fair, spirituel form had seemed to him only as a beautiful casket hiding a pre- cious gem. Nay, still more, through k !low- ing and loving her, he had begun to care for everything good and pure that iuter- ested her. Now all was false and hateful. There was no truth in the world, he said to himself. This girl, whom he had 'selhaved to be the fairest and sweetest ILIlluictivgenur thandee-9.10 arTneore skilful It rah little deceptiona, hiding narrow umtikittl straitened circumstances, were as nothing compared with Lathe:Si deceit. And he had loved her kie`yl Looking into those tender eyes, he had believed love and truth shone there; the dear face that had blushed and smiled for him had looked BO pure and guileless. How long was it since he had held her little hands clasped within his own, and, abashed before her sweet innocence, had - not dared to touch her lips. even when she had promised to love him? • How he had been duped and deceived! How she must have laughed at his blind folly 1 Who was the man? Some one she must have known years before. There was no gentleman in Lord Earle'scirele who would have stolen into his grounds like a thief by night. Why had he not followed him, and thrashed him within an inch of his life? Why had he let him escape? The strong hands were clenched tightly. It was well for Hugh Fernely that he was not at that moment in Lionel's power. Then the fierce, hot anger died away, and a passion of despair seized him. A long low cry came from .his lips, a, bitter sob shook his frarne. He' had lost his fair, sweet love. The ideal he had worshipped lay stricken ; falsehood and deceit marred its fair form. While the first smart of pain was upon him, he would not return to the house ;he would wait until he was calin and cool. Then lie, would see how she dared to meet him. His hands ceased to tremble; the strong, angry pulsation of his heart grew calmer. Ile went back to the drawing -room ; and, except that the handsome face was -pale even to the lips, and that a strange angry light gleamed in the frank, kindly eyes, there was little' difference in Lionel Deere. • She was there, bending over the large folio he had asked her to show him, the golden hair - fell upon the leaves.. She looked up as he 'entered • her fair face was calm and serene : there was a faint pink flush on the cheeks, and'a, bright smile tremble& on her features - "• Here are the drawings," she said, 'will you look over them?' . He remembered -how he had asked her to sing to him, and she had refused, looking confused and uneasy the while. He under- stood now the reason why. - He took a chair by her side ; the folio lay upon a table placed in a large recess, lighted by a silver lanip. They were as much alone there as though they had been in another room. She took out a drawing, and laid it before him. He neither saw it or heard what she remarked. s s Lillian," he said, Suddenly, "if you were asked what was the most deadly sin a woman could commit, what should you reply 2" • a, • "That is a strange question," she answered. "1 do not know, Lionel. : I think I hate_ all sin alike." • "Then I will tell you," he said bitterly, " it is false, foul deceit—black, heartless treachery." Tr _ _ She looked u in amazement at his angry tone, then there was for - some moments unbroken silence. - . • 4" I clainot see the drawings," he said; "take them- awaya Lillian Earle, raise your eyes to mine ; look me` in the face straight. How long is it since I asked you to be my wife?" Her gentle eyes never Wavered; they were fixed half ha wonder on his, but at this 'question the faint flush on her cheeks grew deeppr. . "Not very long," she replied—" a few 'days." "You said you loved me," he - contineda "1 do," said she. • - Now,answer me again. Have you ever loved or cared for any one else, as you say you do for me ?" "Never," was the quiet reply. "Fray, pardon . the question—have you received the attention of aiv lover before receiving mine ?" "Certainly not," she saadsvon ering still more. " I have all your affection, yo dence, your trust, you have nev Or deceived me, you have been op ful and honest with m&" - "You forget yourself, Lionel,"/she said; with gentle dignity.; "you shotild not use such words to rcie.' ' _ "Answer 1" he returned. , "You have to do with a desperate man. Have you deceived me ?" "Never," she replied, "in thought, word or deed." "Merciful heaven rise. cried. "That one can be so fair and so false 1" . There was nothing but wonder in the face that was raised to his "Lillian," he said, ".-I have loved you as the ideal of all that was pure and noble inwoman. In you r loved everything good and holy' Mayheaven pardon you that my • faithhasdied a violent death." . - s • "1 cannot understand you," she said slowly. "Why do you speak to meso 2" "1 will use plainer words," he replied— " so plain that you cannot mistake them. I, your betrothed husband, the man you love and trust, ask you, Lillian Earle, who was it you.metto-night in.7 your _ father's grounds 2" - He saw; the question strike her as light- but there was in her calm-, gentle nature aa you are, as I have done. I could curse myself for my own trust. Who is he?" "I cannot tell you," she stammered; and he saw her little white hands wrung together in agony: "Oh, Lionel, trust me —do not be angry with me." "You cannot expect me," he said, al- though he was softeued by the sight of her sorrow. "to know of such an action and not to speak of it, Lillian. If you explain it, do so. U the maii was an old lover of yours, tell the so; in time I may forget the deceit, if you are frank with me now. If there be any circumstance that extenu- ates or explains whet you did, tell it to me now.". droOp-e-d-snancitty" the_oni!n:lahniindher fair face "That I quite believe, nu ase..,...._ a , bitterly. "You cannot and will not. You know the alternative, I suppose ?" The gentle eyes were raised to his mute appealing sorrowbut she spoke not. "Tell me now," he said, "who it was you stole out of the house to meet—why you met him. Be frank with me; and, if it was but girlish nonsense, in time I may pardon you. If you refuse to tell me, I shall leave Earlecourt, and never look upon your face again." She buried her face in her hands, and he heard a low moan of sorrow come from her white lips. ," Will you tell me, Lillian ?" he asked again—and - he never forgot the deadly nguish of the face turned toward him. "I cannot," she replied; her voice died away, and he thought she was falling from her chair. "That is your final decision; you refuse to tell me as your accepted lover, I have a right to know?" s Trust me, Lionel 1" she Smplored. "Try, for the love you bear me, to trust me !' " I will never believe in any one again," he said. s Take back your promise, Lil- lian Earle; you have broken a true and honest heart, you have blighted a whole life. Heaven knows whet I shall become, drifted from you. I care not. You have deceived me. Take back your ring. I will say good -lye to you. I shall not care to look upon your false,, fair face again." "Oh, Lionel, wait" she cried. " Give me time -ado not leave me so!" ; " Time will oiake little difference," he answered. "1 Ethan not leave the Hall until to morrow morning, you can write to me if you wish me to remain." He laid the ring on. the table, refusing to notice the trembling, outstretched hand. He could not refrain from looking back at her as he quitted the room. He saw the gentle face, so full of deadly -sorrow, with its white, quivering lips ; and yethe thought to himself, although she looked stricken with anguish, there was no guilt on the clear, fair brOve: . He turned back from the door and went straight to Lord Earle. "1 shall leave Earlescourt to morrow," he said, abraptly. "1 must go, ,Lord Earle, do not press nee' to stay-.' "Come and go as you will, Lionel," said Ronald, surprised at the bruequeness of his manner, "we are always pleased to see you, and sorry to, lose you You will return soon, perhapar - ;- - "I will write to you in a few days," he replied. :"I must say good-bye. to Jody Earle:" • 1 She was astounded. Beatrice and Lord I Airlie came up to him—there was a gen- eral expression of surprise and regret. He, unlike himself, wasbrusque, and almost haughty. - - -- 1 4 Sir Harry and Lady Lawreheia had goee hoine. Beatrice, with a vaguefear that something had gone wroug, said she was tired, Lord Airlie said good night, and in a few minutes Lady Helena and - her 'son were left. alone. - _ • - I , s What has comb over Lionel?" asked Ronald. s Why, mother, how Mistaken I 1 ; am I Do you know - that I quite believed he was falling in love with Lillian?" - ! "He did that .. long ago," replied Lady Helena, with - a smile. e' Say nothing about it Lionel is very -proud and inaPe- tuous. I fancy hini and Lillian have liti,a some little dispute. Matters of that kind are best left ale -nets' interference always does harm a Re winsome backin a few -days, and all will be right again., Ronald, there is one question I have been wishing to ask you—do not be angry if I pain yeti, my sem Beatrice will be married soon= do you not intend her mother to be present at the wedding T' - Lord Earle- rose from- his chair, and, began as -he always did in time of anxiety to pace up and down the rbom. - . .. "I had not forgotten her claim," he said. "1 cannot tell what to do, mother. It would be a cruel, unmerited slight to pass her over, but I " d wish to see her. ' I :1-- have fought a h rd ht with my feelings, but,I caranot•brin yaelf Weis her." "Yet yen- hivedher siery bench ence," ✓ confi- ✓ duped her—she never dreamed of freeing herself from blame, and tilling the story of her sister's fault. His words were bitterly cruel; they stung her with sharp pain. She had never seen contempt or scorn before on that kindly, honest face ; now she read both. Yet what could she do? Her sister's life lay in her hands, and she must guard it. Therefore she bore the cruel taunts, and once, when the fear of losing him tortured her, cried out for pity and trust. But he had n6 trust; he stabbed her gentle heart with his fierce words, he seared her with his hot anger; she might, at the expense of another, have explained all, and Btood higher than ever in his esteem, but she would not do it. /tato. She was almost stunned by the sorrow that naa hor. She saw him, with haughty, erect bearing, quit the drawing -room, and she knew that, unless Beatrice permitted her to tell him the • truth, she would never see his face again. She went straight to her sister's room, and waited for her. The pale face grew calm and still; her sister coflld not refuse her request wh she bad told her all; then she would wij to Lionel, and explain. He would not le Earleseourt ; he would only love her better for her steadfast truth. " Send Susette away," she whispered to Beatrice, when she entered; "I must see you alone at once." Beatrice dismissed her maid, and then turned to her sister. "What is it, Lilly?" she asked. " Your face is deathly pale. What has happened ?" "Beatrice," said Lillian, ".will you let me tell your secret to Lionel Deere? It will be quite sacred with him." "To Lionel Deere!" she cried. "No, a thousand times over How can you ask me, Lilly? He is Lord Airlie's friend, and could not keep it from him. Why do you ask me such an extraordinary -question?" "He saw me to -night," she replied; "he- was Out. in. the . grounds, and saw m speaking to Hugh Fernely." " Have you told _him anything? 'S she asked.; and foe a moment Beatrice looked despairing. " Not a word," said Lilly. "How -could I, when you trusted me?" "• That is right," returned her sister, a. % look of relief coming over her face; his opinion does not matter much L What did he say?" 4 "He thought I had • been foCmeet some one I knew," replied Lilliana her fair face - growing crimson with sheaSe. "And was dreadfullyifliocked, no doubt," supplemented Beatrice.. " Well, never mind, darling., I am sorry -it happened, but it will not matter. I am so near free- dom and happiness, I cannot grieve over it He will not surely tell? He is too holler - able for that." . "No," said Lillian, 'dreamily, "he will not tell." " Then do not look so- scared, Lilly,a nothing else matters." - You forget what he must think crf me," said Lillian. " Knowing his upright, truth- ful character, what must he think of me 2 " „ That view of the question had not struck Beatrice. She looked grave and anxious It was not right for her sister to be mis- judged. "1 5111 80 sorry," she began, but Lillian interrupted her, she came close to her, and lowered her pale face over her sister's arm. - "Beatrice," she said, slowly's" you must let inc tell him. He cares for me. He loves me, I promised to be his wife, and I love him—just as you do Lord Airlie." Under the shock of thosewords Beatrice Earle sat silent and motionless. said Lady Helena. "1 did," he - replied, gently. "Poor Dora!" "It is an awful/bin. glo live at enmity with any one," said Lady Helena—" but with one's own wife! I cannot understand it, Ronald." "You mistake; mother," he ; said, eagerly; "I am not at enmity with ,Dora. She offended me—she hurt my honor—she pained me in a way I CE411,never forget." "Yhu must forgivelher some day," re- plied Lad' Earle—"why not now?" - No," he said, sadly. "1 know Inyself —ISnow what I can do and what I cannot do. I could not take my wife in my arms, an kiss her face—I could not live with her. I shall forgive her, mother, when all that is human is dying away from inc.` I shall forgive her in the hour of death.", CHAPTER XXXVIII. Lillian Earle was no tragedy queen. She never talked about. sacrifice or dying; ning sometimes strikes a. fair tree. The color faded from her lips; a -cloud name over the clear dove -like eyes; she tried- to answer, but the words died away in tafaint murmur. "Do you deny that you were there?" he asked. s' Remember I saw You and I saw him. Do you deny it?" 11, " No ".she replid. ' "Who was it?" he cried; r• and his eyes flamed so angrily upon her that she was been intrusted a to her, and she 'could not conceive the ideas of disclosing it. If the choice had been offered her between death and betraying ,Beatrice, she ' would have chosen death, with a simple consciousness that she was but doing her duty; ^ So, when Lionel Uttered those terrible Earle. Let him find out for himself what words—when she found that he had seen depth Of endurance s rarely; equalled,. a .She had. never owned, even .,thaherselfashow ljesey she loved Lionel 'Deere-a-11ms canna pletelyeVerythoUght and uppe was centered in him. Since she hadfirstlearned.to care for him, she had never looked her lile the fate and imagined What it -would be without him.. erea aaa; a'. aa'a. a ifile*ersnteredlier:Miturttilave- herself atthe expense of her sister; the Secret had. afraid. "Tell me who it was. I will fol. low him to the world's end. Tell me." I cannot, Lionel," she whispered—" cannot. , For pity's sake keep my secret!" "You need not be afraid," he said, haughtly. "I shall not betray you to Lord "Ilove him," continued Lillian. “ I did - not tell you He Bali]. it was not to be mentioned until you were married. I love him so dearly, Beatrice—anda when hb asked me who it was I had been to meet, I could not answer him. He was very angry, he said sharp, cruel words to me,' and I could not tell him how false they ' were lie will leave Earlescourt ; he will never leek upon my fabe. again—unless I tell him all. He has said so, and he will keep his word.. ,Beatrice, must 1 lose my love?" - ' "It would only he for a time," she re plied I hate myself f beinteo, -selfish, ` but I dare not trust Liebe/ Dekte. - Ile is so impetuous, sohasty, he would betray me without intending to do so, but he would betray me, as surely RS he knew it. Do you not remember his saying the other day that it was well for him he had no secrets, for he _could not manage to keep them?" He would keep this," pleaded Lillian—, " for your sake and mine." \ "He would not," said Beatrice, and I am so near freedom, „so near happiness. Oh, Lilly, you have saved me once—save ' me again 1 My darling, keep my secret until I am married, then I swear to you I will tell Lionel every word hcinfirably myself; and he will love you doubly. Could you do this for me?" "It is not fair to him—he has right to my copfidence—it ;is not fair to myself, Beatrice." "One of us must be sacrificed," returned her sister. "If myself, the sacrifice wifl last my life, will cause my death; if you, will last, at the most, only three or four weeks. I will write to Lionel on my - wedding -day." "Why. trust hinaathert and not .now?" asked Lillian. a a, • "Because, once Married to Lord Airlie, I shall have no fear. - Three or four weeks of happiness are not so naudh to give up- for your own Mater, Lilly. - Isatillsay no More. I leave it for you to decide." - - "Nay, do not do that," said Lillian, in treat distress. "1 could not ;clear ‘myself at your expense "—a fact which Beatrice understood perfectly well. "Then -let the matter rest," said her sister;" some day I shall be able to thank you for all you have done for,met-I cannot now. On my wedding -day I will tell Lionel Deere that the girl he loves is the truest, the noblest, the_ dearest ha the , world." . - " It -is against my better juclgment„ ' returned Lillian. "It is against my concicienee, judgment, love, everything," addedBeatrice ; "but it will save nee from cruel ruin and sorrow; and it shall not 'hurt- you, Lilly—it shall bring; you good; not harm. Now try to - forget it. Lionel is easily made angry; he . will soon relent. -aalle.4willnot-knoW how to atone ti you lei this. Thitils. of your hap- - pineal when he returns. Sheadrew the &Odell, head down upon .(COntineed on seventh page). -