VIOLET LISLE; OR, A PEARL BEYOND PRICE.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VI, Issue 450, 23 March 1912, Page 2

VIOLET LISLE; OR, A PEARL BEYOND PRICE.

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By the Author of "All or Nothing," "Two,Keyß," efce., etc. PART 16. CHAPTER XXII. LADY MARY WESTALL. If Violet had been wiser or had been endowed with more guile, she would not have trusted herself with the man George, Simpson, whose eyes dwelt on her with so much boldness and admiration ; but she was without guile herself, although she :iad some hesitation about taking the step suggested by him, she hsd dismissed it.

There was something in the man that inspired her with confidence and she had not yet learned to distrust her instincts. She permitted him to hand her into a foiir-whteeler, with i feeling of wonder, perhaps, but without any doubts troubling her. " May I sit inside with yon ?" he as'ted with great respect. " Certainly," she answered ; and he stepped in and closed the door. They rode along in silence for some time ; then Violet said to him : " What is the name of the lady you are taking me to ?" He hesitated, a moment before answering, then he said : " Lady Westall." He watched her face narrowly as lie spoke ; but he could have learned nothing from it, for it betrayed only ignorance of the name. " I never heard of her," she said. " Why do you take me to her ?" " I wish her to hear you sing," he answered. She did not understand yet ; but she said nothing more, only 'looked out of the window and noted that they vrere being driven down into the aristccratic quarter—a fact that was plain even to her, a stranger. After a while the carriage stopped in front of a sombre-looking mansion, and her companion alighted, and said to her :

" Wait for me here, while I learn if her ladyship will see us." Violet inclined her head and sank back in the seat, while he went up the steps and rang the bell. The door was opened with a promptitude that indicated good discipline in the house. The footman, after the fashion of his kind, looked over the visitor from head to foot, anid then took the proffered card with a very supercilious air. " Please to give that to Lady Westall," said the! chorus-master, accepting the footman's evident estimate of him with a twinkle of humour in his black eyes. " Her ladyship is not in the 'abit of receivin' so early," said the footman with an air of reluctance. " Very much pleased to know anything about her ladyship's movements I'm sure," said George, politely, but without moving, or indicating in any way that lie was concerned, whatever her habits might be. So the footman, having nothing else to do, asked him to step inside while be took the card to his mistress. Presently he returned, wearing on his face the expression of one who has received a shock, and is suffering in a refined way in consequence. " Her ladyship says, will you please step upstairs ?" " With pleasure," answered George, and followed the footman. The latter ushered him into the presence of his mistress without uttering a word, closing the . door after lim. " Well, George," was his immediate greeting, " what brings you here so ;arly in the morning ?" " Good morning, your ladyship," was the answer in more than respectEul tones. " I know it's very presuming of me ; but : you once —" " Never mind the apologies," said her ladyship, leaning back in an :asy-chair, before a small table, lolding some breakfast dishes. "Sit iown. I remember all I once told you, which is quite remarkable, considering how much I have said. What s the matter ? For I suppose something is the matter." Her ladyship as one could see even though she half-reclined in a low :hair, was a robust haxrdsome woman who might be any age between ;hirty-five and forty-five. Her voice h iiif.h rather deep for a woman and sharp and decisive in intonation was •emarkablj melodious. George looked at her with a smile on his thick ips, and a look of gratification in lis eyes. " Nothing is the matter with me," he said, " but I have a favour to ask of you nevertheless." " Ask it George, I am curious." " I want you to hear a young lady sing." " Is that all ? Where is the young ladj, and why do you want me tc hear her sing, George ?"■ " The young lady is sitting outside in a four-wheeler, and I want you to near her sing because she has a phenomenal voice." " Just for the pleasure of hearing a phenomenal voice, G<iorge ?" queried Lady Westall, with a slight Irooping of her eyelids. "It is an untrained voice," said Cieorge smiling in his Jinembarassed way. " You mean you wish me to heai her sing before I ask any questions Is that it ?" " Yes, your ladyship." " Then bring her up here. Is shf shy ?" " Very, your ladyship- But yoi will know all about her when yoi have seen her." " Oh, shall I ? Then I am mort gifted than I supposed, and thai would make me very gifted indeed

Gc.crge," said Lady Westall o.nilins in a way to show that she had vcrj beautiful teeth. George laughed aloud ; then said, with a great deal of feeling and with mcst profound respect : " Your ladyship knows what 1 think about that." Then he left the room and went out to Violet and asked her to come 'n'o the house. She followed hire lftcr he had paid the cabman, with a ' Ltls fer.r in her heart and a. great 'cal of wonder, but no real misgivings. " Lady Westall," said George, as lie ushered Violet into the boudoir, " ihis is Mh's Mabel Mareden." Violet bowed shyly to the lady, who looked keenly at her and inclined her head, but did not rise from her seat. " Come nearer, Miss Mardsen," she said, " and sit down. George, draw that curtain aside, and let in a little more light." He did as he was bidden and Lady Westall turned a pair of beautiful searching brown eyes on the shrinking girl ; shrinking and a little disma.yed with the singular position in which she found herself, but frank and honest, as her violet blue eyes clearly betokened. Lady Westall turned her own eyes from her to George with such an expression as said plainly, " I never beheld such a beauty before." And indeed it was the thought that was in her mind. " Will you excuse me," she asked Violet, "if I continue my "breakfast ?" And then without waiting for a response she turned to George. " Suppose you leave Miss Marsden with me for a little while, George, I dislike to hurry in the morning, and if you remain here with that anxious expression on your face, 1 shall certainly do so and perhaps lose my temper. You won't mind waiting for me, will you, my dear?" she asked Violet. " Oh, no, your ladyship," said Violet in response to what she thought was the kindest smile she had even seen en a woman's face. George looked gratified instead of annoyed, as Violet expected to see him, and answered : " When may I come back, your ladyship ?" "In an hour, or say, perhaps two hours. If I don't want you then I can send you away again." " Certainly, your ladyship," said George with a smile. And he bowed and withdrew. Lady Westall watched him out ol the room, and then turned with a serious expression to Violet. " There," she said, " goes a man whose looks belie him, whose inner life in truth, is a constant contradiction to his outer self. How long have you known him ?" she demanded so abruptly that Violet stammered as she replied : " I never saw him until this morning." Lady Westall said "Oh !" and studied Violet with a frankness that was embarassing to her. " Do you think you could sing for me now ?" asked Lady Westall suddenly. "If you care to hear me," answered Violet. And then as Lady Westall pushed the table aside and rose from her chair, she added, with a troubled expression : "I don't know, your ladyship, why I was brought here to sing. Will you tell me ?"

Lady Westall placed her hand kindly on Violet's shoulder and answered gently : " Would you mind singing to me before we talk ? After that I will answer any question you may ask me, and I will ask you questions, too. I fancy you will not be afraid to trust me, will you ?" The tone was so kind, almost tender, that the trouble-wearied girl would have liked to throw herself into the arms of the other, as if certain of finding comfort there. But she only looked up out of her sorrowful eyes and answered in a low tone : " I could not help trusting you," " I understand that," said Lads Westall, a look of deep sadness filling her brown eyes. " Trouble attunes the heart to sympathy. But come," she exclaimed with a sudden return to liveliness, " what are you going to sin's ? The music room is just here," and she led the way into a saloon almost bare of furniture and quite bare of carpet on its polished floor, or of hangings at its windows, the light being tempered by stained glass. " I only sing some simple ballads," said Violet, " and I feel ashamed to have you listen to me." " Oh, the torture will not last long," laughed Lady Westall, sitting down at the grand piano. " Do you sing ' Auld Robin Gray.' If you do let us have that ; for it is always a pleasure to hear it." Violet did sing it, and Lady Westall made so little preparation and was so kind and caressing in her manner that it was not long before the trembling voice was as steady as it had been when singing for old Goody White. And then, too, the accompaniment was so exquisitely and sympathetically played, that it seemed to woo the words from her. When she had finished she turned softly away, and went to look out of one of the windows ; for the song had brought up memories of the last time she had sung it, and Guy had taken her hand and kissed it. This was out in the woods, under one of the great oaks of Penarth Abbey. And now she had been singing it t.c a woman she had never seen before, and the object in singing it was somehow connected with the struggle for an existence which, now that Gin was lost to her, was of but little value. While she stood at the window hardly noticing how the stained glass discoloured everything she looked at Lady Wcctall was letting her linger.'

ramble over the is*ory keys, as if the song had stirred memories for hoi also. But presently she ceased, nvl isked abruptly : " Did nny one ever tell you Ih.-'i .•mi hr.d a beautiful voice ?" Guy had told her more than onethat her voice was a gift from the angels. She turned pale, but answered in ;i low voice : " Yes, but I have never cultivated it." " No, your voice is not cultivated. When it has been you will rank second to no living singer, I think. How did you happen to sing for George Simpson ?" " I saw an advertisement for choris girls and went to the theatre." " Chorus girls !" repeated Lady Westall. "It was necessary for me to do something and I did not know what :horus girls were," said Violet simply. " Ah ! do you know now ?" " Not exactly," said Violet. " Well, to put it in a few words, :hey are a singing ballet." '"Oh !" cried Violet With a little shudder. " Ah, well," said Lady Westall, juickly, "it is all right. You fortunately fell in with George, and his soul is as white as his eyes are black and he is as gentle as he is rough." " That is why I trusted him," said Violet, reflectively. " Certainly," said Lady Westall, emphatically, " and I understand now why he brought you to me. But you don't, of course, 'do you ?" " I cannot even guess." " Well, I will tell you. Let us go nto the other room again."

She led Violet into the boudoir, and made her seat herself in an qpsy chair. Then she looked in her steady way at Violet for a few minutes and began in a low voice and slowly, as if painfully recalling some past event. " I am going to give you my confidence," she said, "and my reason is that I wish yours. I don't mean ttoat I make it a condition ; but I think that if I tell you about myself you will be more likely to tell me about yourself, and then I shall be able to help you ; for you need help, don't you, my dear ? Yes, I knew it from the first moment I saw into those honest eyes of yours, that haven't learned yet to hide the soul from the curious gaze. Move your chair nearer and hold my hand. It's a bigger hand than yours, isn't it ? and not so aristocratic." It was a bigger hand as befitted the larger woman; but it was shapely too, even if not, as she said, so aristocratic as Violet'B. For all its softness, too, it was a Strong hand, anld it gave Violet a sense of protection and . comfort to hold it, as she did at the other's bidding. " That is right," said Lady Westall, smiling at Violet's ' uipturned, wistful face ; " now we shall get on famously. We have established confidence already, have we not ?" " I don't understand, why you are so good to me," said Violet, caressing the hand she held a little convulsively. " But jou will when I have told my story, perhaps. I shall not make it a long one. My father was a curate in the north ;my mother was a rustic beauty and as good as the angels. At least, my father said so, and as he never told me anything that was not true, I' believed him. I never saw my mother.My father was a fine musician and he taught me music and singing particularly. He died, and I went out as governess into a titled family. I was a beautiful girl—not as you are, for you are one of the most beautiful I ever saw. That is why I would shudder to have you go out into the world as I did." She smoothed the golden hair back from the low forehead and smiled sadly into the wondering eyes fixed so intently on her face. " I was striking and queenly, I think they called it," she went on, with a slight curl of the lips," and I was considered dangerous to the young men of the family. I don't think it ever occurred to them that the : oung men might be dangerous to me, though I was only eighteen years old. However they were not dangerous and again! her lips curled scornfully— " although they tried to be ; and in the end —I won't tell you the whole miserable story— I was sent out of the house, innocent as you are this day, my dear,but ruined in character by one of those young men, who had thought that by shame, sorrow and privation he 2ould bend me to his purpose. It is enough to say that I escaped him as I should have done though I sought refuge in death. Then came a time of wretchedness in this great London, and to avoid starvation — for life was dear to me —I did as you did this morning ; I went to the theatre and applied for the place of chorus girl. I was accepted—eagerly. There was no George Simpson to save mc from it." (To be continued.)