VIOLET LISLE; OR, A PEARL BEYOND PRICE.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VI, Issue 446, 9 March 1912, Page 2

VIOLET LISLE; OR, A PEARL BEYOND PRICE.

AS! Rights Reserved

By the Author of "All at Nothing," "Two Keys," etc., ate.

PART 12. " You are not my gn*st, my lord," said Guy, hotly, " bot I asked you to remain here whiJe I made known my errand to my mother, because I knew what part yon played in my affairs. A man who would consent to play the part you did this morning must not be too particular." " Be courteous to my guest, then, Guy if not to your own," said Lady Darlington with a dignity that waa assumed with difficulty, for she was greatly troubled. " But you do not answer me, mother," insisted Guy. "It is not necessary after Lord Coldenham has said it." " Then Violet is at her father's house ?" " She is. Why should you doubt it ?" " Because," answered Guy, "it is the last place for her to choose ; but since it is so I will go to her. But before I leave you here I wish to say to you, sir, in whatever tone suits you, that I will brook no further interference in my affairs. Disinherit me if you will, mother. I care nothing for money, though I would have stopped at little to retain your love. I am going to marry Violet Lisle and no other, if she will now accept me after proving mjself so unworthy of her." He turned to go, and Lady Darlington turned with a little cry of anguish' But it was not a part of Lord Coldenham's plan that Guy should meet with Violet, and he too rose and said, quietly : "If Lord Darlington will consent to hear me as patiently as I have listened to him, I will promise to use no insulting language which he as my host cannot resent ; but I will consent to justify my conduct which he has characterised in such unpleasant terms." "It does not matter, my lord," said Guy, half turning to the other. "It matters this much," retorted Lord Coldenham in the same cold, cutting tone, " that I may never again have an opportunity to prove to you how unjust and discourteous you have been. It will occupy but a few minutes of your valuable time, and all that I have to say has a bearing upon the subject on which we have been speaking." " Proceed, I beg of you, as quickly as may be," answered Guy, impatiently ; but I warn you to say nothing prejudicial to Miss Lisle."

" Mies Lisle shall speak for herself," said Lord Coldenham, with grim hauteur. " May I, without oflence, ask if you know Miss Lisle'a handwriting 1" " Yes."

" Perhaps," said Lord Coldenham, coldly and pitilessly, " what I have to show you will carry more weight then Miss Lisle's pSainly spoken words ; but I owe it to myself to show it to you. Will you oblige me by reading this ?" As he spoke he took a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Guy, who took it disdainfully, and as if ready to refuse to look at it ; but something made him conquer the feeling, and presently the terrible shameful words were swimming before his burning eyes. "I, Violet Lisle, of Penarth, do acknowledge the receipt of twentythousand pounds sterling (£20,000) in consideration of which sum of money duly paid to me by the Marquis of Coldenham I renounce all claim to the hand of Guy, Lord Darlington, and. promise that I will always refuse to renew the engagement with him. " VIOLET LISLE." " Oh, heaven !" moaned Guy ; "can this be true ?" Then Lord Coldenham dropped the hard cruel tone that he had before maintained and assumed a kindly, pitiful one. "My poor Guy," he said, "it is her own signature freely given." But Guy did not seem to hear him. He let fall the paper from his nerveless hand and it fluttered to the floor whence Lord Colderrfcam picked it and handed it sorrowfully to Lady Darlington who at once cast her eyes over it. Even her moneyscorning nature received a shock as ahe read the amount ; but she made no comment ; and Lord Coldenham, who had an eye on her, even while he seemed to be giving all his attention to Guy was satisfied. Guy's head had fallen on his breast and he was murmuring to himself. Lord Coldenham stepped forward and touched him on the arm. " Do not grieve for her, Guy ; she is not worthy of you. I will not saj that she did not love you ; but sht readily gave you up for the money." "It is false !" cried Guy. " 1 would not believe it, though she tolc me with her own lips ! It is sonn fiendish device to steal her from me but I will see her, and she shall b< mine !" He rushed from the room, regard less of the prayers of bis mother Lord Coldenham saw him go, and a curse, deep and "hitter, fell from hi/ iivid lips.

CHATER XVII. THE OUTCAST. For a while after leaving hei father's cottage. Violet staggerec blindly on, reckless of where hei steps would lead her ; but present!} out of the tumultuous agony of hei thoughts, there arose the picture o herself —a dishonoured outcast wan derer. The thought brought to he the first realising sense of the ter rible disaster that had come udoi her.

What lay "Before her in tne iuxure i Where should she go ? What should she do ? All thj world she knew lay in the little hamlet oi Pena.rth, and outside of there was a vague, blank waste of undefined terrors. Stay in renartli ? Oh, no, no no ! Whit then " What else was there ? London ! Yes, London. In that great whirlpool of human life, with all it:; misery, crime, and unhnppiness continually surging to the surface, only to swirl a brief time and then be sucked down in the vortex, she would !.e lost. Alas ! yes : but how lost ? All of this passed before her mental vision as she stopped and leaned, panting, against a tree. It did not pass before her in an orderly procession, but in an incoherent, crowding mass, and left her with a shuddering terror of the fate in store for her ; aiit she could not remain in Penarth whether to meet the pity or scorn of its people ; for even her innocent heart could throb with prophetic terror of the cruelty that lay in store for the outcast.

It was useless to dwell on it ; she must go to London : she must hide nerself from all who had 1 nown her, and begin to live a new life. Yes, that was the only thing to do ; and she pushed herself wearily from the tree and turned her steps towards the station, only just realising howweak and exhausted she was. Her way led through the village. She might have avoided it by going round it ; but the night though starlit, was black, and she could not have found the path through the fields.

The little hamlet was dark and silent, except at the public-house where •i few rustic roysterers were holding revel ; but Violet crept through; the one straggling street, crouching and stealthy as an evil-doer, starting at every sound and fearing any encounter as much as ever thief did. It seemed to her that she should have wept as she passed one cottag* ind another that held some feeble, 'ecrcpid old woman, some feeble old grandfather who would miss her visits, and who would hear with tremulous wonder the story that would be told of her ; but she could not weep for that, with the awlul terror of the future dragging like a weight of lead on her heart. She stole on through the silent village, and once she almost stopped and cried out aloud, for the sudden Lhought had come to her, how different from the way she had gone to the station the night before to take the same journey ! But she put that from her and almost ran, as if to escape from the remembrance of what she had put out of her life. Then she suddenly stopped, as she thought of wirtat she would do with herself until the train was due. She could not wait at the station and risk being seen and questioned by someone who knew her ; and, again, she did not know what the hour was. It occurred to her that the clock it the public-house could be seen through the window, and she crept back and peered in on the men sitting round the smoke-laden room, recognising this one and that, and mechanically thinking that it was wrong for them to be spending the money their wives needed, and then remembering that these wives were far better off than she, the outcast. The clock told her that it would be an hour yet before the train was due, and that it would take her not longer than fifteen minutes to reach the station. But she went on until within sight of the lights of the station, when, with a little shiver, she drew her cloak closer about her, and sat down under a tree to wait until the whistle of the engine should warn her that the train was coming.

Despair has its own attitude, and Violet sank into it at once. Her seat was on a gnarled tree-root which had offered itself, and her head sank into her palms, her elbows on her knees. And there the poor child sat, thinking, thinking, drearily, until she drifted off into a merciful slumber. How long she slept she could not have told ; but she was suddenly awakened with a stifled scream on her lips, and, frightened, she rose to her feet. "My poor creature!" said a voice that was vaguely familiar, " why do you sleep here ? Have you had some trouble with—" and the man standing in front of her turned the light Df his lantern upon her face. "Merciful Heaven ! Miss Violet !" There was a sudden, shocked silence on his part, and her instant impulse was to flee, but. as she turned to do so without a word, he put out a gently detaining hand and caught her arm. "Oh, Miss Violet ! what does it all mean ? Whj are you here ? I thought —we all thought —" "Let me go ! let me go !" gasped Violet, recognising the kindly shocked voice as that of Martin Jenkins, the ;urate. "I can't do that, Miss Violet. Please don't ask me. Let me take you home." "No," answered Violet, yielding tc the gentle restraining hand ; "I have no home. My father has turned mc away, and I am an outcast. Let mc go." Martin Jenkins felt his head whir: at the thought of what must have happened to have made an outcast o< the woman he loved. Violet Lisle ar outcast ! It held him dumb for a moment, and she interrupted his silence in her own way, and turned with ;■ bitter weariness to leave him. "No, Miss Violet," he said, "yoi must not go alone. 1 do not undo" stand it, and I cannot think now but you promised me once that yoi would let me be your friend if evei you should need one. You need on( now, and I will not leave you !" "You can do nothing," she said heavily. "I must get away from here where I am known. I am going ti London I am waiting for tin train."

"I, too, am going to London." lie answered. '■ and if you must go, I will (ake care of you. But, Mis:Yiolef —forgive me for speaking of i' —I do not wish to know anyihia:: you would not tell me—but are yo i wise in leaving- home ?" " My father h.-is turned me from hU house. I have no homo anil 1 am going to London where no one will know me." "Please forgive me." said Marl it' again, as gently as a woman to a child ; " but Lord Darlington ?" '• It is not his fault," cried Violet, quickly ; " but it is all over between us. I am all alone, in the world."

" Not while I live, Miss Violet. T shall ask for no explanation, for 1 trust you as I would my own sister ; and you must trust mo as you would a. brother.* Come with me. 1 am going to London to my <le:ir mother—to put her in a home of her own. You shall go to her." He gave her no choice, seeing that she was unfit to make one ; but with a decision no one would have looked for in gentle Martin Jenkins, led her with a brother's tenderness along the road to the station, she yielding to him without a word. The station was deserted when they reached it, and Martin left her on an obscure seat, where she would be noticed by no one, while he went to purchase tickets. Then he returned to her, and remained by bfcr side, sayin? nothing, but watching her without seeming to. Presently the whistle of the engine was heard, and a few moments later the lights were turned up on the lon el j platform. Martin led her out of the corner where she sat, and was crossing the platform to the train, already almost at a stand, when a carriage dashed up and a man sprang out. It was Guy, Lord Darlington ! CHAPTER XVIII. GUY AND HIS MOTHER. Violet, when she realised who it was that had arrived at the railway station, strank close to Martin, so as to place him between her and Guy, whispering : "He must not see me—l am not strong enough—l should yield." Martin did not understand at all ; but in his simple loyalty to Violet, it was not necessary that he should. He saw that she wished to be .shielded from Lord Darlington's eyes, and without a question hie stood quite still while she almost cowered behind him. If it had seemed to him his duty, in defence of Violet, to have laid violent hands on stalwart Guy, he would unhesitatingly have done it. But all Violet wished for was to escape the love, the reproach, the agony that for her now always dwelt in the dark eyes of the man she more than ever worshipped ; and when the roaring train h a d come tc a stop, she caught Martin by the arm and almost dragged him towards the carriages.

He caught her meaning at once, and turned and hurried with her, rushing so blindly that neither of then saw the burly figure of a passenger who had alighted at the station and was leisurely crossing the platform until they ran into him. Martin apologised hastily ; but the man stopped short, with a growl, to turn and watch them with openmouthed wonder. A second later he started • after them with an angry oath ; but they had already leapt into a compartment and slammed the door after them, and the train was moving. "Egad !" exclaimed the man, in a sort of maze, " the parson running away with Miss Violet ! The sneaking beggar. After what he said this afternoon ! I wish I'd caught him. I'd 'a' shown him that John Broad had a good memory, and a heavy hand to boot. The hypocritical hound ! Eh, mac J can't you see where you're going ?" He turned angrily to confront Guy Lord Darlington, who had run across the platform to catch the moving train. "Your pardon," said Guj. "I was trying to catch the train ; but it does not matter." He spoke absently, gloomily, and more to himself than to the young farmer. A flash of intelligence illuminated the not over.quick wit of the latter. He looked eagerly at Guy, and said : " Lord Darlington, I think?" " Yes," said Guy, turning away. "If I might make so bold as to guess your errand, my lord " said John Broad, rather hesitatingly. Guy turned and looked at him with a puzzled frown. " I do not understand," he said, slowly. " Had Miss Lisle nothing to do with it ?" queried the young- farmer. "What do you know of her?" demanded Guy. " She was in that train." Guy made a hasty movement as h he would run after the train, already almost out of hearing ; then restrained himself with a groan. " You are sure ?" he said. With something of a sneer, John Broad answered : " Sure as I stand here, my lord. She was with one of her old loversMartin Jenkins, the curate." The malignity of the man and his littleness discovered themselves in that speech. He took a hasty step backwards after he had spoken : for on the words Guy had started towards him witli a fierce gesture. Then a sudden thought subdued his rage, and without a word he turned a.w ; ,y. The young farmer saw the advantage he had gained. and with no defined purpose other than wound in pure malice, as if now every suggestion of the girl he had been punished for maligning turned his thoughts to gall he said : "No one could ever understand what she saw in that sneaking hypocrite." oki be Goa.w3Hsed.)