The Sentinel, 1881-08-12, Page 6pier the cowslips fill the meadow,
Year atter year the skylarks thrill the air,
Year after year, in sunshine or in shadow
Rolls the world round, love, and finds us as we
were.
Year after year, as sure as birds' returning,
Or field flowers blossoming above the wintry
mould,
Year after year, in work or mirth or mourning,
Love wo with love's young youth, that never
can grow old.
Sweetheart and lady -love, queen of boyish pas-
sion,
Strong hope of manhood, content of age begun,
Loved in a hundred ways, each in a different
fashion,
Yet iovea supremely, solely, as we never love
but one.
LOVERS YET.
(By the author of "madoline's Lover.")
" What is it, Beatrice ?" asked Lillian,
as the two sisters stood alone in the bright
little dressing -room. .
"1 can -hardly tell you in sober words,"
she replied. "Lord Airlie has asked me to
be his wife—his wife; and, oh, Lilly, I
love him so Clearly!"
Pride and dignity all broke kown ; the
beautiful face wee__ laid upon Lillian's
shoulder, and Beatrice wept happy tears.
"1 loved him so, Lilly, she went on;
" but I never thought he cared for me.
What have I done that I should be so
happy?"
The moonbeams never fellupon a sweeter
picture than, these fair young sisters,
- Lillian's pure, spirituel!. face bent over -Bea-
trice. -
"1 love him, Lilly," she continued, " for
- himself. Ile is a king -amongst men. Who
is so -brave, so generous, so noble? If he
were a beggar, I should care just as much
for him.
Lillian listened and sympathized until
the bright dark eyes seemed to grow weery;
then she bade her sister good night, and
went to her own room.
Beatrice Earle was alone at last --alone
with her liappiness and love. It seemed
impossible that her heart and brain would
ever grow calm or - quiet again. It was all
in vain she tried to sleep.. Lord Airlie's
face, his rape, his words, haunted her.
' She rosetand put on a pretty pink -dress-
• ing. gown. 1 The fresh air, she thought,
- would make her sleep, so she opened the
• long window gently, and looted out.
. The night was -stilt and clear; the moon
•' hung over the dark trees; floods oftsilvery
dight bathed the far-off lake, the sleeping
flowers, and the green grass.. There was a
gentle- stiramid the branches; the
leaves rustled in the wind; the blue, silent
heavenslioue bright and eatra. The
solemn- beauty -of the star lit elty, and the
• hushed-. mukniur, appealed tto her. Into
the proud,; passionate heart -there came
• some.better, nobler thoughts.- Ah, in -the
• future thatlay sobrilliant- and beautiful
• ._ hefoteher_she Would 'strive to be good, she
would be true 2nd steadfast-, she would-
• think -Mere Of what Lilly loved, and spoke
about at times! Then- her thoughtS, went
• back to her lover, , and that happy half
•hour in thEi rose. garden. From her win-
-
dow site could see it—the- moon shone 'full
•. upon it. The moonlight WaS Lk fair type of
her •life that was to be bright clear,
• unshadoweel. Even as the -thought shaped
itself in het mind, a shadow 'feamongthe
• rotese .Shelloaked, and saw the fighte. of a
-tall man walking _down the pith that
•divided-thelittlegardenfrona the-shubbery.
„He Steed Still there, gazing: long.- and
• earnestly it -the- windows of the house,
•- and then went outlet° the park and ditapa
pearecl. 1 a
She was not startled. .A passing wonder .
as ta who it might be struck her. -.Perhaps -
•et it was otetotthegerae-keepers orgardener8 ;
but she ' dtd not think much about it. A
shade* tinithe moonlight did not frighten,
her.
' Soon the. oar freshair did its work; the
' - bright darkieyes grew tired in teal earnest,
-
and at Iepgth-Beatrieeretired to rest. t
The analyzes shining brightly when she
awoke. By her side lay a fragrant bouquet
,
.of flowers,the - dew -drops still glistening
• - Upon thein,andin their midst a little nate,.
which said -1-
-.- "Beatrice,will you come into the garden
for a. w m
tnutes before breakfast, just to
t • e- all! that happened last night - Was
_ • - . .
not a eant?" - ' • -
him ; the hanateriting. 'attequiteatnImearia
to her ; she khewno onein Brookfield,which
was the nearest post-town—it was pro-
bably some circular, some petition for
charity, she thought. Lord Airlia crossed
the room to speak to her, and she placed
the letter carelessly in the pocket of her
dress, and in a few minutes forgot all about
it.
Lord Airlie was waiting; the horses had
been ordered for an early hour. Beatrice
ran up -stairs to put on her riding habit,
and never gave a thought to the letter.
It was a pleasant ride; in the dark after
days she looked back upon it as one of the
brightest hours shehad ever known. Lord
Airlie told her all about Lynnton, his
beautiful home—a grand old castle where
every room had a legend, every tree almost
a ttadition.
For her he intended to work wonders; a
new and magnificent wing should be built,
and on one room therein art, skill and
money should be lavished without stint.
"Her boudoir," he said, "should befit for a
queen and fcir a fairy."
So they. rode through the pleasant sun-
light air. A sudden thought struck Beatrice.
"I wonder," she said, "what mamma will
think? You must go to see her Hubert.
She dreaded love and marriage so much.
Poor mamma 1"
She asked herself, with wondering love,
what could have happened that her mother
should dread what she found so pleasant.
Lord Airlie entered warmly into all her
plans and wishes. Near the grand suite of
rooms that were to be prepared for his
beautiful young wife,' Lord Airlie spoke of
rooms for Dora, if she would but consent to
live with them.
"I must write and tell mamma to -day,"
said Beatrice. "1 should not like her to
hear it from any one but myself."
"Perhaps you would allow me to inclose
'it note," suggested Lord Airlie, "asking her
to try and tolerate me."
" I do not thinkthat will be very diffi-
cult," laughingly replied his companion.
Their ride was a long one. On their
retutu _Beatrice was slightly tired, and
went straight to her own room. She
wrote a long letter to Dora, who must have
_mailed itt her description of Lord Airlie.
He was everything that Was true, noble,
chivalrous, and greed. • The warld aid not
hold such another. When the letter was
finished it time to dress -for dinner. ,
11,Thich dress will you wear, miss?"
asked the attentive maid.
The prettiest I have," said the tailing
, ,
girl, her bright face glowing with the,
words she had just written. What dress
could be pretty enough for him ? (inc was
found et lasttinitpleased her? ta rich -White
crepe. • .But she would :weal- no jewels --
nothing but trimsoa reset-. One lay inthe
thick coils of her dark heir, another'.
'nestled: against het white _neck, Others`
looped uptheflowing seirt. - •
Beatrice's toilette satishedher—this, too;
With' her lover's fasttdious taste to - please.'
.She Stood before the large mirror, and a
pleased smite Overspread Iter face as she
saw herself therein. .
Suddenly she -remembered-. the letter.
The morning dress still hung upon a chair.
She took the envelope from the, pocket.. -
Shall you want pie again, Mise Earle ?'!'
asked her maid. _ • .
No," relined. Beatrice, - breaking the
seal; " Lana ready now." -
The girl quitted the room; and Beatrice,
standing before the mirror, drew -tat a long,
-closely written.letter'-turning presently
amazement, to the .-itignature, wortdering.
who could be the writer.'
CHAPTER XXXI.-
The sun thane brightlinpon the roses
that glearaedt in ther hair. '.ancl • nestled
against thewhite.- neck: Could it be linger-
ing -in 'cruel mockery upon the pale face
and -the dark eyes BO full of Wild horror?'
As Beatrice Earle read the letter; the color
left her lips, her heart seemed to stand still,
a vague nameless dread took of her;the
paper fell froth -her hands; and with a long,
1nW CrY'S.he fell upon her kneee,thiding kter
lace inlet hands. -
s It had faliea at lest—the cruel Watt that
even in herdreamsand thoughts she had
considered impossible. -Hugh Fernely had
-found her out, and 'dein:Led her as his own.
This letti3r which had stricken joy- and
beauty from the proud face,. and -.left- it
white and cold almost as -the face, of the
dead; was from him; and the words' it con-
tained were full' of such passionate love
that they- terrified her. ;The letter tan as
follows: •
. . . -
- She se (thickly. • Over her pretty morn-
- mg dress threw a lightshawl, and went
detvia to meet Lord Airlie.
- "It . was f no dreamt' she said simply,
holding out her hand in greeting tohint. ..
' - "Dear 13 atrice, how very good of you!"
i_.
replied- I.r
; d Airlieadding presently.
-
- "We. have, twenty minutes before , the
breakfast -bell will ring; let us make the
• 'most of then." -- - - • - a •
The morning Was fresh; fair, and calm, a
- soft haze-hatiging round the trees.
. "-Beatrimit said Lord Airlie; "you see
a the 'sun shining there in the high heavens.
Three :weeks ago I should have thought it
_easier for that -same gun to fall than for
me to win you. I can scarcely believe that
. -was to naarry some
mtehighestdeal of woman is realized. It
as alwaymy a
young girl 'who had never loved any one
tiefore „tme. You never have. No man
ID
- ever held y ur hand. as I hold it now, no_
- mate-everie
'seed your face- as I did last
—lit ' - -
- As he spa;e a 'burning fluslacovered her
face. :. She reraembered Hugh Fernely.
He loved her better for the blush, thinking
hew pure mid guilelessshewas.
"Ifear I shall be -a very jealous ' lover,"
, he continued, "I shall envYeverything
those beautiN1 eyes rest upon. Will you
ride with me this morning? I want to
- talk to you about Lynnton—my-home,..you
know. You -will be Lady. Attn.% of Lynn-
- -
ton, and. nol king will be so proud as I
- shall."
fast -bell tang at last. When
red the - ream Lady Earle
, . . .
a has told me the news," she
• The bree.
Beatrice e
went up -to-
:- "Your pa
said, “ Hea en ,bless you, and make you
happy, dear child
- Lionel Deere guessedthestate oftaffairs,
_ and saidlittlittlea The chief topic- of con-
versation was the ball, 'interspersed by
many conjectures On the partof Lord Earle
as to why the post bag was so late.
It did: not arrive until breakfastwas
ended. Lord Earle distributed the letters,
-
therewerethree for Lord Airliea. one to
Lady Earle ,tfrom Dere; two for Lionel,
'honelor Lilhaan. Lord. 'Earle held in. .his-
handit &large. common -Vile envelope..
-r &Misgl3eittnce Earle," • he saida" fro
,
" MY OWN -BEATRICE—F/1)11a peril by sea
atut land I have returned to claim you..
Since tve parted I have stood face to fate
with death in its most terrible form.
Each. time I conquered., because I felt I
must see You again. It is a imite saying
that love is imrnortar. Death itself avould-'
not part me from, you—nay, if I were
hurried, and you came to my _grave and
whispered name, it seems to me I must
hear you:
- "Beatrice you promised to be my wife—
You will not fail me? Ali, no, it cannot be
that the blue heavens above will look on
quietly and witness my. death blow 1 You
will tome to me, and give me a word, a
smiletto showhow-true you havebeen.
"Last evening I wandered 'round the
grounds, Wondering -which were the win-
dotys of my love's chamber, and asking
myself whether she was dreaming of me.
Life has changed for You Since we. sat
upon the cliffs at Knutsford and you -pro-
mised to be my wife. I -heard at the farm
all.about the great -change, and hew the
young girl who wandered with me through
the bonnie green woods is the daughter of
Lord.. Earle: - Your honie doubtless- is a
Eitately one. -Rank and position like yours
might frighten some lovers—they de not
daunt me. You will not let them stand
between Us.' You cannot, after the. pro-
mises you uttered; '
- "Beatrice, my voyage has been a suctess-
fat ono; Iam not a rich man, but I have
enolightto gratify every wish your heart;
I will take you away to sunny lands over
the sea, where- life shall -be so of
happiness that you will wish it never to
•
end. .
"1 await yotir commands. . Ruiner tells
.me Lord Earle is strange disappointed
man. I will not yet Call upon you at your
otvn. home ; I shall- wait your reply .itt
Brookfield. Witte at once, Beatrice, and
tell me howandwhen I mayraeetlou. I
will go .any'where, at any time. Do not
90249 Viatil, theLtikk...); 0itaftta-, YAW
devote over, litter( FERNELY.
"Address, Post -office, Brookfield."
She read every word carefully, and then
slowly turned the letter over and read it
again. Her white lips quivered with indig-
nant passion. How dared he presume so
far? His love! 1 if Hubert Atrlie
could Wave read those words 1 Fernely's
love 1 She loathed him; she hated with
fierce, hot hatred the very sound of his
name. Why must this most wretched
folly of her youth rise up against her now?
What must she do? Where could she
turn for help and. counsel?
Could it be possible that this man she
hated so fiercely had touched her face, and
covered her hands with kisses and tears ?
She struck the little .white hand which
held the letter against the marble stand,
and where Hugh Fernely's tears had fallen
a dark bruise purpled the fair skin; while
hard, fierce words came from the beauti-
ful lips.
"Was I blind, foolish, mad?" she cried.
"Dear heaven, save me from the fruits of
my cuten folly!"
Then hot anger yielded to despair. What
should she do? Look which way she ,
might, there was no hope. If Lord Earle
once discovered that she had dealt falsely
with him, she wOuld be driven from the
home slie had learned to love. He would
never pardon s.uch concealment, deceit,
and folly as hers. She knew that. If
Lord Airlie ever discovered that any other
men had called her his love, had kissed her
face, and claimed her as his own, she
would rose his affection. Of that she was
also quite sure.
If she would remain at Earlescourt, if
she would retain her father's affection and
Lord Airlie's love, they must never hear of
Hugh Fernely._ There could be no doubt
an that head.
What should she do with him? Could
she buy him off? Would money purchase
her freedom? _ Remembering -his pride
and his love, she thought not. Should she
appeal to his pity—tell him_ all her heart
and life was centered in Lord Airlie?
Should she appeal to his love for pity's'
sake
• -
Remembering hid passionate words, she
knew it would be useless. Had she but
been married before he returned—were
she but Lady Airlie of Lynnton-he could
not have harmed her. Wee . the man mad
to think he could win her -7 -she who had
-lia,d - some of the Most nobly -born men in
England- at her feet? Did he think , she
would exchange her grand old partie_ for
hig -obscure on-e—her magnificehee for -his
poverty?. - _
-There was no more tinae for. thought; the
dinner:bell had. sounded for- the lett time,
and she must descend. :She thrust the letter
hastily into a drew -et, locked it, and. then
turned to her mirror'. She- was startled at
the.change... Surely that pale face, with its
quivering lips and shadowed eyes,*cOuldnot
be hers.- What should -she do to drive away
. ,
the startled fear, the yaw:lea-dread, the
:deadly pallor? The roses she tvote were.
:but a ghastly contrast:
•-“ I must bear it better," ehe said to her-
ette auth it face -as this will betray tnY
se&tett Lei metfeel that 1 do not care --
that it will all _come right in the end.'
She said the words -aloud, but the voice
wasthanged end hoarse. • -
" Woment have faced more deadla: peril
thatatliis " she continued " and Vete won,'
is there. any peril would not brave for.
Habert,•Airlie's sake
Beatrice Earle left_ her room. She
swept: With her beautiful head erect,
through the wide corridors -a-nd dewn :the,
broad staircage. - She took her seat at the
Altt.w attallttt wtitklaitennat.9.tee
youtteatriee."
"What?" she asked, looking up into the
handsome, kind face.
"1 should not kill myself," he said, "for
I hold life to be a sacred gift; but I Ehould
go where the fade of no other woman could
smile upon me. Why do you talk so dole-
fully, Beatrice? Let us change the sthject.
Tell me where would you like to go when
We are married—shall it be France, Italy,
or Spain ?"
"Would nothing ever make you love inc
less, Hubert ?" she asked, "Neither pov-
erty nor sickness?"
"No," :he replied nothing you can think
of or invent."
"Nor disgrace?" 'she continued ; but he
interrupted her, half angrily.
"Rusk 1" he said. "1 do not like such a
word upon your lips; never say it again.
What disgrace can touch you? You are
too pure, too good."
She turned from him, and -he fancied a
low moan came from her trembling lips.
"You are tired, and—pray forgive me,
Beatrice—nervous, too," said Lord Airlie;
"I will be your doctor. You shall he
down here upon this couch:- I will place
tit where you can see the sun set in the
West, and I will read to you somethiug that
Will drive all fear away. I thought during
dinner you looked ill and worn."
Gently
window,
while wit
trice to lis down, and then turned her face
to the gatden, where the setting sun wise
pleasantly gilding the flowers. .
"Now t ou have something pleasant to
look at," said Lord-Airlie, "and you shall
have so
am going
Stuart."
dle sat
hend in
words th
of marti
of a soul
sntaptuous table, whereen gold and "sitter
:shone, *hereon. everything fee/it-relit- and
"mageifieent. Nees displayed. -, But he haa
with her it compaatoe she was never again
to -lose, laiunthig fear, :a .skeleton that
wee -never more to quit her side, a ittiser
able ,comicieusneseof folly that was -bring-,
big teOre wretchedness upon her. -.Never-
'again was she to feel free from fear and
"Beatrice," said Lady Earle, When. din-
ner waSover, "yea, will .never learn pru-
dence." I. a • -
She started ..aiad the beautiful bloom just
beginning to return vanished again.
"Do not he alartnednay dear," con -tinned
Lady Helena; " Bennet angry:: I fear
you Were out too long " to=day. - • Lord .Airlie.
must .take more care of you; -the sun was
very hot, and you look quite ill. I-- never
paw you look as you do to -night."
• "We had very little guitt' replied- Bea --
trice with a laugh she tried to make a gay
one; "we rode under the -shade in the
park. I_ani tired -.hilt net with ray little
ride.". , =
:It was a pleasant evening, asia when the
gentleriien johied -the ladies in the dra*ing-
room. the. -pen beams atilt lingered . on,
floweia and trees: - The -long windows were
all Open,: and the soft simmer -wind that
came in was laden with the sweet breath
of the flowers': -
Lord Airlie asked Beatrice to sing. It
was a relief • to her; she could not t have
talked; all the love and sorrow. all the
fear and despair that tortured her,..could
find vent in music. So she sat, in the,
-evening gloaming, and Lord Airlie, listened
to the suPerb" voice, wondering at the
pathos and sadness that seemed to ring in
every note. - I . • -
"What weird music, Beatrice 1" he said,
at length, "You re singing of love, but
• •
the love is all co row. Your songs are
generally so bright and happy. What has
come over you?" . ,
"Nothing," was he reply, but he, bend-
ing over her, saw the dark eyes were dim
with tears. - - -_,
- -" There," tried eta Airlie--" you see
f am right. You h
self to tears."
He drew her fro
to the large bay-'
I
Brookfield. What large writing! The ; delay—my heart hungers and thirsts for anything happened to part us."
,name was evidently intended to be leen." tme glance at your, peerless face. Appoint _ "But nothing 11 ever happen," he
Beatrice- took the letter carelessly—from ' an hour soon. .„ Xlota, shalka,,ItliveAntilt_it4saidattl_nothingtoa
ve positively sung your-
. •
the piano; and ledher
inflow where the roses
peeped in; He her face to the mellow
evening. light and looked gravely' hitt, her
beautiful eyed I -
"Tell • me," he 'lipid simply, "what has
saddened you, atrice—you shave no
secrets from me.
of just now when
“ Lebewohl?" Ev
sigh.",
"Shall :you tail
asked -
1' replied a ". "
" N° t •
!i was thinking hat I fthould do if—if
wete you thinking
ou,. sang that dreatny
rttnote was like a long
. '
h if-. I fell - pont" -she
_
I cannot promise to
• sigh, t I will no
• '-
enough he drew the couch to the
Lady Eatle watching him the.
smiling face. He induced Bea-
ething pleatiant ' to listen to. I
to read some of Schillerts " Marie
at her feet, and held her white
is. He read the grand, stirring
t at times seemed like the ring
I music, and a -gain like the dirge
n despair. . 1
_ His cle;,r, rich voice sounded pleasantly
in the veiling calre, Beatrice's eyes
lingered n the westerti sky all aflanae; but
her thoughts were with Hugh Fernely.,
What hould-she do? If she could but
temporiz with hun, if she could bukpacify
him for si time until she were :married, all
would be Safe. Ile would not date to talk
of °la -indult Lady Airlie—it would tbe Vain
if he - 4iaT Besides, she weald. petal:is-de
Lord Air le to go abroad; and seeing all
f
pursuit selesst Hugh would_ surely give
her -up. :Evert at the very .-worst i ifau-bert'
and she Iv,erennce Married, she would Inot
fear; 'it s 0 Confessed all:to him. he would
forgive h r.'..- He might be *very angry, ;but
he would Pardee. his wife.- If he knew all
about it before Marriage, there. -*at; ho
hope for her. 1 ' -- - - - • . • i
- ‘ - , ,-
: She ust - temporize with Fernely,---- -
write in 'st le that would convey iiething
d tell Et mutt Wait He _could 'n t
an . o
refuse.. - would ..write that - evealpg
letter th shoUld-giVe him eto hopeainor
!yet driv hinato despair.. -- .
"That is a grand seenetts it not? said
Lord :Ai lie, :suddenly.; then he is,* by.
Beatrice .;:sta;rtled look that she had tnot
listened. - : I
- Itple d guilty at once," -she -tapped.
"1 was t inking --do not be - angry -a -I •iwas
thinking of gotaetlaing that relates, to your-
self. I. card nothiagt of What you read,
Hebert. yeti teed it again?"
,
"Cert ttilynoWt he said, len&
of -quiet -amuSement. "Reading does ! not
answer; will -try conversation. Let -us
reshme
subjectyouran away from. before
'-where shall we go for,out wedding -trip?"
Only t
teee8:0:11gsl.ed:ho'bt
'she -list
ghostly -
numlied:
•That evenival it seemed to Beatrice
-thaught, she would tievet,.he left
the drawing -room Eitocd.a _dainty-
titoire used by ' the ladies . of
Ft. Here, elle dared. not Write
Attila lshould, ' mi. he often did,,
her, pretendirigto assist her. If
into the library. Lord Earle would
ISA. her to whore she was writitg.-
-nothing to be done but wait.
until:she retired to her own room.
First eine Lady. Earle, solicitous - about
her, hen h, recommending 4 long rest and
guide 81 opt; .then Lillian; felt of anxiety,
lutlf longing to ask Beatrice if she thought
Lionel ectehahdsomet and kinder than
any one lee a ithea the maid, Sustette, Who
seemed t • linger though she would never
At len shewasalone, the'door locked
upehth outerworld, She:was-seen seated
at her li tiedesk, where she speedily wrote
the ORO "iigetld letter; that almost -ditwe
Hugh Fe nely niadta - •
"Mr. DEAR-. }amen Hate you retell
returned
'China:8
sode at
yet.- -As
pectiliar
1
tee- days since ..She would have
twenty different' places she
to singed :and blushed, aer dark.
tpg lirthtetatt every wOrd. Now
he& to her lover's plans. as if a
and .clutched - her heart and be-
er With fear; - ' ,
Earle as
alone. I
little es
Earlesco
lest Lor
linger b
she wen
be sure t
There- w
shatateto hy.her tdOe every moment
and dist ess her?
It was true it had beeu very wrong of
her to meet this tiresome Hugh Fernely in
the pleasant woods and on the sea shore;
but it had broken the monotony that had
seemed to be killing her. His passionate
love had been delicious flattery ; still she
had not intended anything serious. It had
only been a novelty and au amusement to
her; although to him, perhaps it had been
a matter of life or death, But she had
deceived Lord Earle. If, when he had
questioned her, and sought v.ritli such ten-
der wisdom to win her confidence—if she
had told him her story then, be would have
saved her from further persecution and
from the effects of her own folly; if she
had told him then, it would not have mat-
tered—there would have been no obstacle
to her love for Lord Airlie.
It was different now. H she were to tell
Lord Earle. after his deliberate and empha-
tic words, she could expect no mercy; yet,
she said to herself, other girls have done
even worse, and punishment had not over-
taken them eo swiftly.
At last she slept, distressed and worn
out with thought..
CHAPTER XXXII.
For the first time in her.life, when the
bright sun shone into her room, Beatrice
turned her face to the wall and dreaded
the sight of day. The post -bag would leave
the Hall at 9 in the morning—Hugh would
have the letter at noon. Until then she
was safe.
Noon tame and went, but the length of
the summer's day brought nothing saver
fresh misery. At every unusual etir, every
loud peal of the bell, every quick footstep,
she turned pale, and her heart seemed to
die within her.
Lady Earle watched her with anxious
eyes. She couldnot understand the change
that had eome over the brilliant young
girl who had used to be the life of the
house. Every now and theu she brokeput
into wild and feverish gayety. Lillian.ftw
that something wais ailed with her sister—
she could not tell what.
For the fiftieth time that day, when the
halt door -bell sohnded, Beatriee. looked up
.with trembling lips she vainly triedto be
still. At last Lady Earle to'ok the burning
hands in her own. • - -
"My dear child," shesaid, " you will
have a nervous fever if you go on in this
way. What makes you stIrt at 'every
noise? You look as though you' were
waitingaeaseniething dreadful to happen."
'No one ever calledIne nervous," replied -
Beatrice, with it smile; centrelling hersell
With an effort; .“ mamma's chief complaint
ego -that. nte.Was that 1- had no -.nerves ;"
adding presently to herself,.."This cannot
/ast., - I would rather die at ()nee than live
, _
in this agony." `. -
.The weary day tame to a eicise; however;
and it was well .for EeatriCe. :that Lord
Aline had not • epent the clay With her.
The goitleinenat EarlescOurt liacball;;Ione
to bachelor's dineert given by .old Spiro
Newton of the Grange. It :Was late when
they returned, and Lord Airlie :did' not
petite -anything unusual in Beatrice.
" cell this -a day wasted," lie said, as he
bade hertgood aight-,"forit has been 437
spent way froin you. I thetight it would
never come to an end," .
She sighed, reihentberint Wilat.:'a -dreary
day i it had been to her. -.Could. she live
flit:high stch.another? Half the night she
lay awake, wondering if Hughte,attswer to
her Iletter weind ',come by the first poet, and
whether Lord _Earle- would -Flay anything
if he noticed apotherjetter from Brookfield. . _-
Fortune livotett her. In . morning t
Lora Earle was deeplYingroesedby a story
Lionel was telling, and asked Beatrice to
open the bag for hite- - She agaiit
hated blue envelepetbearing ber own name.
When all the- ether letters were distributed,
'she islipped here into the Packet of her
dress, without- any one .perceiving the
-action. - -
- Breakfast was over at last; end., leaving -
Lard- talkipg to , Beatrice
hastened to . read the letter. Nene of -
Hugh's anger Was there set doWn abut, if
she had cared. for hint, her heart must
have .a,ched at the -pathos of his simple
Words. He had ! received . her note, he said
note - so t unworthy -* of bertand
hastened to tell her that be was ebliged to
go to London on some iinportant` business
connected with his ship, and that he Would
be absent about three weeks. Ile would
write to her at ()nee • on his return; and he
should insist upon .seeing her -thee, as well
as. exact the falfilment Df heepromise.
•- it was a respite; much might happen in
three Weeks She tore the letter into
. , _
th
shreds, and felt as though -relieved of a
_deadly- weight. If time could but be
gained, she thought—if something, could
but I happen to urge her . marriage with.
Hulett- Airlie before Hugh returned! At
anyratelor iti—e moment she was free. . • .
She - looked, like herself ..again when t
.Lord .4irlie-carne ask her if she _would
ride or walk. The beautiful bloora had
returned to her face and thelight to her
eyes. All day she was .in.hrilliaitt spirits.
There was no need now to tremble at a-
loud ring or &rapid step. Three weeks iva.Er
a long time— much Might happen. "if
Lord Airlie would but force - me iriy
hinfsoonlw • - -
That very evening Lord- Airlie asked her
if shewould go out with him. He Wantedta
talk to her alone, for he was going away on
the morrow, 'and had much to sayto her.
- -"Where are you going," _se said, with
sad; wonderingeyes, her chance of escape
seeming rapidly to diminish. -
“ ata going to Lynnton," he replied,
“ tcisee about -plans for the new buildings
They should be begun at once. :Even if we
remain abroad a whole year they will then
be hardly finished. I. -shill be away ten .
days or a -fortnight. When I ireturn Beat .
trice,- I -shall -ask youtt question. Can you -
guess what it Will be?"
There was no answering Smile on her
face. PerliaPs. he wouldtbe absent three
weeks. -What chance of .-escdpe had she
now? s - - - - -
"I shall ask you.when you will111
-
'yout promieetthe-contilmed-,"tadien .you.
will let Me make you in deed and in word
.my Wife. You must not -le -cruel to 'Me,
Beatrice. I have waited long enough.
You willthinkit while I -km gone,
Will; you not?" -
LordEarle smiled noted his daugh-
ter's - face. Airlie was ,going away, and.,
therefore sheWas Was that as it -
ahoald - be. • :Ile.lawatt- delighted that she.
oared so much .fer- hint, He told' -Lady -
Helena . that he had not -thought _Bestride
iinrkuklut -death.. them. Why .veasihni_Ipectre_lafeat 'And, eipOlo--_,:6t4stii0e, !deep • biffeeticti:'. _
- _
2 , I thought You were loiitin the
as, cr.: had forgotten the tittle. epi-
nutsfotd. .1 cannot see you just
you have 'heard, Lord. Earle has
notional—I must humor them. t 3
will writ : : again IMOD, awl say 'when .and
where I an see you, : .: a - -
- --* " Yours.sincerely,• ,
- .“ BEATAICE DAME."
-- She fo ded the titter _and addressed it as
he wish4; . then " she left- her teem and
went do a into the hall where the :pest -bag
[I
ow
lay open thpon the table. she ed the
missive inside, knowing that no one weuld
take the trouble to look at the letters; then
site- reta !ed..as she had tome, silently. ;
The letter .reached .Brookfield at neon
the-follewing day....- When Hugh I Fettely,
opened it I he bit his'lips with 'rage., -Cold,
heartless lines! . Not one word was there
of Welconie, not one of sorrow for.histsup-
posed death; no mentiou.. of love, truth or
fidelity ; no .recognition of his . passionate
worship; no promise that she would be his
—what could such a letter nieaul -.. .
Ile , almost hated tilo. girl whom he had
..
loved so Welt.Ytt he could not, Would not
believe anything atept that perhapstdur-
ing his long absence she had grown to think
lees kindly of him. ,She hadpromised to.
be his wife, and, tat come what -might, he
would make her keep- her word. .
So he said :. and Hugh-Fernely meant it.
,
Hi
Elis whole life was centered n her, and he
would not tamely give.her up. a
,
The letter dispatched, Beatrice etietted
the reply I with a . suspense no welds- tan
describe; IAA:lull weeder carne over her . at
tinids whytshe mist sufferso keenly. .Other
girls had acne what she had dont—nay,
fifty times worse! --and no NeniesiEthannted