VIOLET LISLE; OR, A PEARL BEYOND PRICE.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VI, Issue 448, 16 March 1912, Page 2

VIOLET LISLE; OR, A PEARL BEYOND PRICE.

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$ Ry the Author of "All or Nothing.' "Two Keys," etc., etc. PART 14. But Violet carried too much of hei sweetness and purity in her beautiful face to leave the good old lady in doubt a moment, and there was no hesitation in the motherly embrace with which she received her ; though there was some awe afterwards when she had had time to realise that, whatever Violet's sorrows and misfortunes, she belonged by every right to that upper stratum of society to which the dear old lady had ever been accustomed to look with a sort of reverence. Nothing of this was in Violet's mind, however, but only infinite peace and relief at being in the haven of the sweet old lady's protection. M a rtin was in a state of subdued but extreme delight from the moment of the meeting, hardly knowing which to admire most—his mother's unfeigned delight in Violet, or Violet's tender care for her, the latter being displayed in innumerable ways. Martin was sure now that everything would, come about as he desired it, and hie felt at rest about Violet. He could return to Penarth and take up again the work with the delicious consciousness that through him she was in safety, if not in happiness. Poor Martin ! He fortunately could not know what the future held in store for him. They all went together to the little villa, which had been prepared through an agent, but which was nevertheless surprisingly pretty and cosy in all its appointments. Both Martin and his mother dilated on the pleasant times- the two women would have there ; but Violet only smiled sympathetically, and said nothing. She knew that the unrest that had come into her life could not be put down at will, and the longing to get away from everything pertaining to the past, grew stronger at every moment. Even this peacefulness weighed on her, in spite of the efforts of her gratitude to make her at least accept it.

But she would not pain her kind friends by giving them an inkling of her feelings, and she stifled the feeling of everything but thankfulness. Martin's goodness and his mother's had enabled her to lift herself from the slough into which her misery had dragged her, and she felt that now she could go out into the world, not only with a better courage, but with a greater hope of success.

Martin would have gone away without partaking of the midday meal with them, so great was his anxiety to avoid doing anything that would seem like taking advantage of his opportunity of being with Violet but she not only saw the look of deep disappointment on his mother's face, but understood quite well what his motive was, and would not permit him to do anything of the sort. " I will not remain here a minute if you let my presence interfere with your doing exactly as you would have done if I had not been here," she said very decidedly ; and Martin was only too glad to stay to make any further objection. After the meal Violet looked so tired that Mrs. Jenkins insisted that she should retire to the little room that had been given to her ; and this Violet did, not onlj because she was tired, but quite as much because she was eager to take the first steps towards seeking that occupation which 3he felt she must have.

She had procured a copy of the " Times " through unsuspicious Martin, and had been longing ever since to have a chance to read the advertisements. To her fancy it was full of opportunities, and she was eager to make a choice. Something in the way of governess or companion 'was what she had in mind, and it was with trembling fingers that she spread out the sheets of the paper, and sought for the columns that held her fate.

Sb.3 sat on a low chair by her window and read over the little paragraphs one after the other ; at first hopefully, and at last with a sort of dismay to note what the requirements were for any one of the occupations she had naturally looked Eorward to filling. She reached the end of the list, feeling that she was totally unfit for anything, and her hands fell listlessly in her lap as she realised that willingness to do was but the beginning of the battle. Was there nothing, then ? she wondered, and mechanically she studied all the advertisements. Some of them she could not understand at all since they asked for acquirements she had never heard of ; some of them she rejected as unsuited to her, even if she had been suited for them. One of them all, only one was such as she believed she could fill the require ments of, and yet there was something in it that made her suspicious. It was an advertisement for chorus girls. No special training was required ; nothing but a good voice. Violet had that ; but she folded the paper with a sigh, and wondered why the only possibility offered in the columns of advertisements was one that she could not make any use of. After that, she lay down and fell into a restful slumber, and did not awake till it was growing dark. She started up, remembering that Martiwould be leaving soon and she \va. unwilling that he should go without another grateful word from her There came a postman's knock whi!< she was making her simple toilet but she thought nothing of it exeep! to wonder who of the little famih would be receiving a letter so soot after arrival in the new home. H

certainly' was not fur her, and she forgot it.

Sleep had brought her not only rest. but a return of hope, and she told herself that what might not be in this day's paper might be m the morrow's. She opened her door and had gone as far as the head of the little staircase, when she was stopped by hearing the voice of the old ladv speaking in tearful accents' " Oh, Martin, my boy, it is wicked, wicked !"

" flush mother !" she heard Martin say, " I would not hnvc Miss Violet know this for aught in the world. Ido not care for myself. I could forgive them for the injury they do me ; another can do my work there as well as I ; but that Miss Violet's name should be used so—oh, it would kill her to know this."

"But you can explain it," saic Mrs. Jenkins. " You can tell them she was here with me—that you came with her only as her escort." " Not without betraying more of her secret than she would have inown. No, mother, my reputation is nothing. I am a man and can outlive it ; hut oh, if I could see how to clear her good name without letting her know !" Violet did not wait to hear more, but glided back into her room and sank white and gasping on her little chair. She understood it all. It was known that she had come to London with Martin Jenkins. The relentless gossips had gathered the scattered bits of facts about her and had branded her with shame ; and besides it was the ruin of hter generous protector who had been seen with her. Well, he at least, should be made innocent in their eyes, and then she would sink out of the world. CHAPTER XX. THE TWO LETTERS. Violet leaned her chin on her hand and stared out of the window at where the glowing beams of the setting sun reddened the western heavens. It was typical to her of what should become of her life—it should go out that night, to rise new and fresh on the morrow. It seemed to her as if a destiny was pursuing her old self, and that she must begin life afresh. She thought of it sadly, shudderingly, but without that fear that one wiser in wickedness of the world would have had for her. But it seemed to her that there was nothing else to do, unless she would let one faithful friend suffer for the very kindness he had done her. That she would never do. She sat there tMnking until the twilight had faded into darkness and then was roused only when there came a knock at her door. It was Mrs. Jenkins who had come to tell her that dinner was ready. When she went down Violet noticed that the table was set only for two. " Where is Mr. Jenkins?" she asked.

"He has gone to London," his mother answered.

"He went because I was here," said Violet, sadly. "I don't think he need to have done that ; but it is so like his thoughtfulness. He never considers himself." " That he doesn't Miss Violet," the old lady said, with a suspicion of moisture in her eyes. "It is always someone else he thinks of;"

" I hope," said Violet, with a gentleness thatl completely disarmed whatever irritation the old lady might feel towards her " that he will one day have his deserts." " It would be nothing less than a bishopric then," said his mother, proudly. " When will Mr. Jenkins be here again ?" asked Violet. " Not until late in the morning," was the answer ; and Violet was glad, for she would be able then to perfect and consummate her plans.

Violet would have made an effort to talk had it been necessary ; but it was not, for the old lady was garrulous on the subject of the perfections of her son, thinking, good soul that she might bring about a union, which even she had been able to see was the one desire of Martin's heart. She could say nothing that Violet would not acquiesce in, and the deal old lady smiled to herself as she thought how little her Martin understood a woman's heart. She was luite sure that underneath every other feeling Violet had that regard for Martin which would finally takt her to him.

It cannot be denied that she tooli a fresh interest in Violet from thai moment, and was even more tendei of her than the mere kindness of hei heart would have made her ; thougi that alone would have carried hei to great lengths in behalf of the beautiful girl who looked fit to grace a royal table yet sat with sweel modesty in that humble villa. Violet excused herself at as earrj an hour as she could and retired tc Her room in order that she mighl perfect her arrangements for enter ing on the new existence she ha< planned. She went about it with i sober sadness, indeed ; but she was surprised to find in herself a calmnes; and resignation which the stupor anc despair of previous hours would nohave led her to expect. The truth was that she had conn to feel that her present lot was nc more than a just punishment for heown' foolishness ; and if the futun had few terrors for her, it was be cause she had an undefined but certain feeling that there was alway death as a refuge.

It was singular with what, a din passionate tone she wrote her letie to the Reverend Mr. Hylvextre. I was as if she had merely a friend'; interest in the Violet lasle of whon she spoke. And, indeed, it was diia cult for her, somehow, t<> realisthat she was in fact the person v.iu had brought misery and unhappmes:

into so many lives, as sTle was mi conscious Hint Violet Lie-le ii ' i

some way done. The letter w.v. ;u.f even diflicult to write, seeing th; t :;';'< was the only -person whose f-vlin :: were to ho considered in it ; a::-.: s'a_ va.s almost out of existence already. It ran :

" Dear Sir,—! have learned quits by accident that Mr. Martin Jenkins is blamed for having left Penarth. in my company. In justice to myself as well as to : him, I write this letter of explanation. Owing tc disobedience to. my father's express commands, he refused to let me share his home any longer, as was perfectly just. I was about to return tc London, friendless and alone, wid Mr Jenkins met me, being on his way also to London. He was generous enough to give me his protection nn.l to take me to his mother with whom I now am. Mr. Jenkins does not know that I am writing this letter, nor does he know what my plans are for the future. Before this letter will have reached you I shall have passed out of his life and out of the lives of all who have ever known me. [ trust you will do Mr. Jen&ins the justice- which is his due as a generous high-minded gentleman."

When she had finished this letter, Violet read it over with a sort of wonder at herself for the manner in which she had written. Then she wrote to Martin Jenkins, and that was harder to do ; for she knew he loved her, and that it would cause him much agony to read that she had refused his protection to cast: herself on the mercy of an unknown world. But there was no hesitation. She wrote the letter after a few trials. It ran :

"Dear Mr. Jenkins,—Please believ, that it is with no want of gratitudi that I write you this letter of farewell. I know you for a true and i noble man, and I am glad that I ov.j you the gratitude I do. I value your friendship and your good opinion, and I would not willingly for* feit the one, or put the other frorj me ; but circumstances are stronger than I am, and I know that I an right in going from your kind protection. When jou receive this, Violet Lisle will be a thing of lur unhappy past ; perhaps ±o be still morj unhappy in the future which cannot be rid of memory, but at least frej from the consciousness that shi brings misery to each friendly heart that opens to her. " Please make no effort to find me t If you should succeed it would do n<t good and might c a use more wretcheii ness. Violet Lisle is dead, as she should be, and it would not be tho act of a friend to bring her back tc life. I need not hope, for I know that Heaven will reward you for your goodness to me. Good-bye, tot ever. For the last time, " VIOLET LISLE."

She did not know what name she would take into the new life which she was to enter ; but after she had sealed and directed the letter she opened the " Times " and looked among the announcements of deaths. A little babe had died—Mabel Marsden her name had been. Mabel Marsden she would be henceforth. She noted down in a little book the name of the place where chorus girls were wanted, and then lay down to sleep, quite calm in her ignorance of the perils that lay in wait for all who venture friendless and alone into the maelstrom of a great city and which are multiplied fifty-fold for one whose beauty and innocence mark her out amid a million. Sleep, then, daughter of haughty Melville Lisle ! Sleep, sweet innocence ! To-morrow you will step down from the pedestal of safety into the morass of danger, and who shall say when or how yov will emerge ? CHAPTER XXI. !' > OUT IN THE 3 WORLD. There was something of the fever ishness of a dream in the movements of Violet the next morning ; but good Mrs. Jenkins did not notice anything extraordinary, nor make any comment on the pale cheeks that told of a night not altogether restful. Violet tried to talk as if there was nothing in her mind more than the commonplaces Martin's mother talked of ; but she could not endure too much, and after the little breakfast which she had forced herself to eat rather than be urged to do so, she busied herself in doing any little thing about the house that suggested itself until it was late enough for her to start. " I will go for a walk," he said. "Do, my dear ; it will be good for you," answered Mrs. Jenkins. So Violet went to her room and donned her outdoor garments, dropping her veil over her face though it was not her custom to do it. The letter to Martin, she placed where it could readily be seen by any one entering the room to find her ; the letter to Mr. Sylvestre she took with her to drop in a post office. She kissed Mrs. Jenkins, rather to that lady's surprise, and very much to her delight, and then went forth, drawing a deep breath as she passed over the threshold and murmuring to herself : " Mabel Marsden henceforth." She deposited her letter in tht first box ami hurried to the station, watching to avoid Martin, in case of bis returning sooner th;m his mothei expected him. and finally taking her seat in the miiway carriage and shrinking back into a corner with the first feeling of real dread of the fathomless future. (To be continued.)

She,: "Did you notice t hat ;in emi nent professor. lecturing: tMo otiici evenin;:, nssUTtcil thai. wore tbore an undue iti>p<n'l iimi of oxygen in the atm<isphere. people would become intoxicated ?" lie : "Yes ; air-tight, J suppose he meant.''