VIOLET LISLE; OR, A PEARL BEYOND PRICE.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VI, Issue 457, 17 April 1912, Page 2

VIOLET LISLE; OR, A PEARL BEYOND PRICE.

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By the Author of "All or Nothing. 1 ' "Two Keys." etc., etc. PART 23. CHAPTER XXIX. PTOLET DEVELOPS A NEW TRAIT. Lady Westall asked no questions o: Violet. It was not necessary that sh( ;hould. With what she had heard, together with a. few incoherent words Iropped by Violet, at the first, she lad gained a sufficiently accurate Lnowledge of what had occurred. She had no doubt that Violet fpould be ill from the combined efects of her attendance on Lady Darington and of her interview with luy : but Violet, must have suddenly levelopecl some of that pride which jyas so strong in her father, but ivhich had lain slumbering in her ; !or after a short period of silent, Drooding suffering she abruptly al;ered her demeanour, and set herself :he task of walking and climbing among the mountains, as if determined ;o regain all the colour that had left ler cheeks, and all the elasticity that Delonged to her limbs. Lady Westall watched that phase with as much anxiety as she had the Dther, fearing it was due to nervous sxcitement ; but as it continued, and the roundness and colour returned to the fair cheeks, she wondered and was jlad. The laugh, even with such merrinent as Lady Westall had known, lid not come back, thoug-h Violet was far from bearing a dismal front. 3he was cheerful and seemingly happy, hut no longer gay. At this time her music was a boon to her. 3he practised more assiduously than sver, and she had never been negligent ; and Lady Westall offered no remonstrance, seeing, as she did, that Violet was happiest when lost In her studies. Once this led to the only talk they liad . on. the subject aearest their hearts. " I ov,-e to you the greatest treasure in my possession," said Violet, Dne day to Lady Westall.

" What is the treasure ? and why do you owe it to me ?" questioned, the latter, stroking the white hand that had fallen into hers. These mute caresses were the only interchange of sympathy between the two. "My voice is my treasure," answered Violet, " and certainly H would never have been developed but for you."

" But you owe me nothing for it, since you have paid me all it cost," said Lady Westall, with pretended chagrin. She referred to the fact that Violet had insisted on using the first money she earned by her singing in repaying the cost of her teaching.

" I owe you more than money could ever compensate for," answered Violet. " I owe you for friendship, tor love, for —faith." There was a world of meaning in the slowly uttered last word, and Lady Westall leaned over and kissed ier. It was a token to her that the wound was still bleeding, though so Heroically concealed. " You make dear," she said, " by your own truth and steadfastness." "It seems to me," said Violet, looking sadly at the distant peaks of •now, " that faith should make faith instead of unfaith in a heart that loves. Oh, how I love him ! how I love him !'' " And he loves you, Mabel dear," was tb3 low, caressing answer. " Perhaps. It may be a man's way of loving. But, there ! I did not mean ever to talk of it. And you have been so considerate, dear. Let us put it away into the past. When do we start for London ? I shall be glad to be at work again. I find myself longing for the applause and enthusiasm of my audiences. Ah, therein is forgetfulness ! And I am always glad to know that I am putting wealth into the pockets of that good George." " Yes," said Lady Westall, ever willing to humour the mood of the 2xquisite creature whom she had begun by loving and had ended by worshipping, "he is a good friend to you, and he is reaping a rich reward. And it has always been his dream tc manage a diva. You have fully realised the wildest flights of his fancy. Let me see. We ought tc start for London not later than a week hence."

Violet was more eager to be in London than she was willing to admit ; for she knew that there was a better chance of forgetfulness for her there than anywhere else. She knew from experience the excitement, exhilaration and exhaustion of a London season for a public singer, and she was fretting to dip deeply into it. And deeply indeed did she dip when the time came. Never before hac she permitted herself the same abandon, and never before had she so entranced an'd carried away her audiences. The critics permitted them selves to praise her freely, the public raved, and society went mad over her.

The duke of this and the earl of that sent diamonds of priceless jewels to her ; ail of which her managei, Mr. George Simpson, politely returned, saying that the diva was greatly obliged, but would prefer to take the will for the deed. Of course the news of that went abroad, and Miss Mabel Marsden became a greater at traction than ever, and bets were made between titied rakes that they would ride on the " Row," with her. or that they would take her to Richmond, or that they would have e champagne supper with her ; but, as the proofs were never forthcoming, the aforesaid titled rakes, each and p.ll, were obliged to pay up ; and this

del2<l io her popularity. Th.cn the female portion of society ■•.id sLcgc to her, and offered fabulous

;:ms to induce her to sing at t»i.?ir ■y.cs ; ml George was most miions to have her accept, but she

• irl no, very decidedly, and that was ho end of it. Society talked of v/ih'ng but the beautiful and eapri-

•o-s diva, until even her gracious 'a.'esty was affected ; and, one fine <:a;r, Violet was " commanded " as the custom is, to sing before the Queen. " What shall I do ?" asked Violet.

" Why, you must go there." said •3e;rgc, all aghast at the bare idea of a refusal. "It would ruin you not to. I never heard of such a thing. Lady Westall, do advise her." Ker ladjship laughed at his dismay and agreed with Simpson, too. " I think you ought to go, dear," she said. " But I don't want to," said Violet a certain glimmer of obstinacy beginning 1 to shine in her dark-blue eyes in a way thiat George had lately come to fear. He simply groaned and looked apeealingly at Lady Westall. She was disturbed too. "It would certainly spoil your career to refuse," she said. "It is the highest compliment that could be paid you," said George. " Perhaps," said Violet, coolly. Lady Westall motioned to George to leave them alone ; then she said anxiously to Violet : " What is it, dear ? I upheld you in your refusals to go to private houses, but this is different." " Yes," answered Violet, " I know it must seem unreasonable ; but I never told you why I most disliked the notion of going to anybody's house." " No. What is it, dear ?" " Ah, when I tell you it will seem still more.unreasonable." " I cannot believe thftt," said Lady Westall, smiling. " I wonder at myself," said Violet; " and I used to think my father foolish for feeling the same way. But the reason I would not go was that, after all, lam a Lisle. My birth entitles me to the entree of any of their drawing-rooms. The Queen would never command a Lisle to sing to-her."

" But the Queen commands Mabel Marsden, the singer, not Miss Lisle." answered Lady Westall, combating Violet, though comprehending now the secret spring of her action—Violet had sought a last retreat, in her grief and indignation, behind the bulwarks of her pride of birth. I'rom thence she hoped to struggle better against her love' for Guy Darliagr.on. " Yes," answered Violet, " she commands Mabel Marsden ; but I am Miss Lisle, nevertheless." " But Mabel Marsden will suSer." " Violet Lisle does not care if Mabel Marsden does sufier." "My dear," said Lady. Westall, taking her in her arms, " tell me all that is in your mind."

" Yes, I will ; I am not going to sing after this engagement." It was a surprise to Lady Westalli and a grief ; but, after a long silence during which she looked at the matter in all its bearings, she said : " Well, perhaps it will be best. I am sorry, for I have rejoiced in your fame ; but I care more for your happiness than for that. I understand what you do not tell me. You will not need to sing to thle Queen. I will tell George."

She rose to leave the room ; but Violet drew her down again and made an effort to speak. The tear;; were too near the surface, however, *and presently she had ber head on the friendly bosom and was sobbing like a child.

" You humour me in everything," she faltered at last. " I I'Pow lam unreasonable."

" Perhaps Soi" said Lady Westall, with a low laugb ; " but I have forgotten how to cross you, or do anything but love you and do your will. I am ready to weep with you at this moment.''

George was ready, not merely tc weep, but to tear his hair at the news ; but he, too, was under the spell of Violet's charms ; and, on the assurance of Lady Westall, that there was a good reason for Violet s action, he sighed, indeed, but submitted.

After all," he said, " I have made a tidy fortune through her, and so has she ; so I suppose no om ought to complain. But when I think of the future that was before her ! Ah !''

" I think her future will not be wasted," said Lady Westall.

Lady Westall spoke as a devotee and not as a prophet when she said that. It was simply incomprehensible to her that a beautiful, sweet life like Violet's could be wasted, and moreover she had, with the hope fulness of her nature, a belief that ir

some way there would come a reconciliation between the lovers. If she had known how to guide the course of events so as to bring ha",?pin*ss into the life of her beloved Mabel, as she always called her, she would have done so at any cost, but as she did not know how, she was content tc let matters drift. If it had been given her to forecast events btit a little way into the future, she would have done anything rather than 1 el them take the course they did. CHAPTER XXX. AN OLD FRIEND. " What shall we do wheu your engagement is over ?" That was the question which Lad\ Westall put more than once to Violet. The answer was one that gavi constant anxiety to the devoted wo man. " I don't know. 8 ' Lady Westall was certain that the reason Violet did not know, or wouh not try to know, was due to some se cret, vexing cause, which, perhaps s' l( was hardly aware of herself. C er

ainly she. always ;a ' v- 1 'i" : i -:v----y with brevity, bur eu ■! ■.lia.itly, ir.d as tlie time f"r the ei,-se of the ngaermcnl tlnnv near.']', Lady Westill con 1.1 see that. Violet, often sought he s ditiide ,if her own chamber and ;h;Te rrooded, "< he end of tlie engagement came, nid yet Violet did not say what she vislr.'d to do, nor would she agree villi any of the plans made by Lady Vcstall. The solution came by ac•ident. One day Lady Westall received a -essare from her solicitor, saying ; The woman, Mrs. White, with whom communicated once on your behalf, las come to my chambers, and insists that I tell her when sh? can find i certain Miss Violet Lisle. I have rotested that I know nothing about he lady in question ; but she declares that I do know, or some client f mine. She is waiting here. What hall I tell her ?" " Tell Mr. Sharpe," said Lady iVestall, " thiat I shall tie with him mmediately." She said nothing of this to Violet, 3ut ordered her carriage, and had lerself driven to Mr. Sharpe's chambers. She found & homely, pleasantfaced woman sitting there with an iir of intending to sit until Violet was found for her. Lady Westall recognised her at once as the Goody iVhite of whom Violet had always spoken so affectionately. " Here, my lady," said the lawyer, ivith assumed indignation, "is the .voman who declares that she will sit icre until I find a certain Miss Vioet Lisle, of whom I never heard before."

" Oh, sir," expostulated Goody \Vliite, " I never said the like o' ;hat."

" But you intended to sit here unil doomsday, didn't you ?" demsndjd the lawyer, with a side glance at i.ady Westall that intimated that he •ves only talking to give her time to make up her mind what she inbended to do under the circumstances.

" I thought I would sit here, sir, until I found out something," answered Goody, with that meek obstinacy that is characteristic of her class.

" What made you think Mr. Sharpe would know anything about the young lady ?" astled Lady Westall. Goody lfad been eyeing her hopefully ever since her entrance, and slu answered with something of her old volubility* showing that she was much less awed by a woman with a title than by a man who followed law for a business. e " Why, my lady, I didn't come to it straightways, but by degrees like. I said to myself, I said, if somebody comes a asking about Mr. Lisle an' 3 a inquiring like if he's this or if he's that, who should it be if he ben't Miss Violet? I would 'a' given mj old eyes , my lady, to 'a' seen Miss Vi'let any time these three years ; but even if I'd thought of this 'ere gentleman, which I didn't at the first I don't suppose as I'd 'a' come tc him afore ; because I said to myself, I said, if Miss Vi'let don't want nobody to know where she is, 'tain't for me to be lookin' her up, an' forcin' unpleasant memories on her. But you see, my lady, it's come tc thiat now," and she shook her head sorrowfully, " that I'd feel mysel) downright guilty if I didn't find Miss Vi'let somehow, an' let her know jest how her father is, an' how he's likely to be doing. That's where it all >s, an' why I took the liberty, which I , hope your ladyship will be good enough to overlook, and to tell me where Miss Vi'let is."

The good creature was so full of hope and eagerness, her old voice so trembled, and her eyes so filled with tears, that Lady Westall could not have found the heart to deceive her, even had she been so minded before.

"Yes," she answered, "I know where Miss Violet is, and I will take vou to her at once. Is Mr. Lisle ill ?"

" May Heaven bless you," said old Goody fervently. " I--knew the minute my old eyes fell on you that you had a kind heart, and would help me if you could. Is Mr. Lisle ill, my lady ? Well he ben't exactly what vou "might call ill, and yet he ben't what you'd call well. To tell the downright truth, my lady, he's never been hisself, since that night he turned her out of doors. I s'pose you heard all about it ?"

" Yes, I know. But come with me Goody, and we will go to Miss Violet."

The faithful old creatuee smiled happily. " An' she told you I was her Goody. Is she well and happy, mj lady ?"

and happy, perhaps. Not as happy as she deserves to be. But you shall see her for yourself, and who knows but you may do her more good than anything else, just now. Come !"

Violet was sitting in her own little robm when Lady Westall returned and went up to her. She glanced up with a wistful, expectant sort o) smile and searched the face of her friend for a moment. Lady Westall smiled back and said, without any sort of preface : " I have seen an old friend ol yours to-day. Can you guess who it is ?" " No, I can't guess. Tell me." " Goody White." " Goody White !" exclaimed Violet. " Goody White ' I would like to see her !'' Hit voice dropped until it was al most, inaudible, and she rested het chin on her hand and stared dreamily on) of {be window. Then .-lie turned her eyes lowards Lady Weft nil. wh, eould see that the team wore silently streaming down her face. "TeM me ail about her. and what she said, and about—-my--my father." " Shall I not ask Goody herself te tell you ?'' asked Lady V* est li. (To be continued.)