VIOLET LISLE; OR, A PEARL BEYOND PRICE.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VI, Issue 463, 8 May 1912, Page 2

VIOLET LISLE; OR, A PEARL BEYOND PRICE.

«■ ■ "* By the Author of "All or Nothing," "Two Keys," etc., eto. PART 29. He winced at every word, for it seemed to him that every word was barbed with a double sting. " I can believe," he said, furiously, " that you do not care for yourself : but I know that you do care for Lady Westall, or Mary Tliornc, and that your father would care —would fce crushed with the shadow of what ] could tell : that is the rod I hold over you." " Yes," she said, " I do care for Lady Westall, and I know that it would deeply hurt my father's feelings were he to know that I was once a public singer, even such a one as I am proud to say Mabel Marsden was. I know by the revelation of the fact that Lady Westall was once ruined in reputation by your cruel lies, and driven to choose between starvation and taking a place in the ranks of the chorus singers. I know this well and it is because I know it that 1 tolerate in my presence a man whom I utterly despise—who is the basest creature I have ever —thank Heaven for it —rested eyes on. For the sake of my dear father I have brought myself to listen to you. Now, will you tell me what your bargain is ?"

" Have a care, lady ! You may drive me to do what I am willing to refrain from," cried the infuriated man, who had been thinking to bear down the girl whom he believed tc be in his power, and who had begun and ended by scouting him and heaping shame upon him. " I do not ""believe it," answered Violet, coldly ; " certainly I do not fear it. I wait to hear what yoi" wish of me in consideration of keeping from the world what you know, and what is, after all, only a monument to your, own infamy ; for all that you could say of me or Ladj Westall would be a recital of your own business. I am waiting, my lord."

In all his life Lord Coldenham had never before been so spoken to. Nevei before had his actions been held up to him and spbken of by their tru« names. In truth, he had not considered himself as more wicked than his fellows, excepting in the one matter of the receipt, and it had beei rather a question of pride with him that he was so shrewd. But this simple girl had pilloried him as remorselessly as if she ; had been his final judge. And there was nothing for him to do but to swallow his anger and mortification, and make whal terms he could.

" I pass over your vituperation," he said, " for there would be no profit in bandying words with you." "It is well you can see it so," she retorted, but calmly, and not with the smartness of repartee ; for all through she had no thought of anything but speaking the truth. It was that, indeed, that made hfei words cut so deeply.

" The agreement I wish to make with you," he said, " is a simple one and it was not worth while to havi all these bitter words over it. 1 only ask that you will be silent to every one about all that has passed between us. It is not much, you see and it is hardly to be characterised as you have sefen fit to do."

He made a miserable attempt to smile. Violet's lip curled. Perhaps her cold anger enabled her to gauge the value of the bargain he sought to make. " I have not so much faith in your generosity that I can believe the bargain to be as fair as you would wish it to seem," she said, " but it does not matter to me, and I have no wish to revive it, whether for your further infamy or my further wretchedness. I agree to your terms. But stop ! I do not know, nor do I care to know, what your motive is for wishing me to keep silence. It is enough for me that you are anxious ; and I say to you, Lord Coldenham, that I not only promise not to speak to anyone as to what has occurred between us, but also that if you so much as breathe a word about the past of myself or Lady Westall I will spend money as freely as if it wer< water to discover what it is you wish hidden. Now go ! you came heri to put shame on a defenceless woman, and I send you forth as I would a whipped liound. Go !" " A word with you, Lady Violet Lisle," he said, his voice broken with nnger and his face white. " Not a word," she answered with haughty pride, carrying herself with the air of an empress. " There can he no further words between us. l

have had so many with jou only for the sake of two persons who are the dearest in the world to me. Youi presence here contaminates the air. I feel towards you as I would towards a poisonous viper ; and now that the bargain is made, go, or 3 ■hall ring to have you put out."

The man turned without a word, and bestowing on the girl a glance in which were concentrated all the an te" and venom of a base soul lashed int< impotent fury by the scorpion whij of the truth, told contemptuous and withering frankness.

He left the room, and Violet stood and listened to his footsteps echoinc in the great hall. She stood until ihe heard the massive door close be hind him, and until she heard th< quick patter of the hoofs of his borse urged into a gallop by the

spurs of his angry rider. Then she ;ank, white and trembling, into one of the chairs, and covered her fact with her hands.

" Violet ! my daughter !" fell upor her ears in broken, trembliDg tones.

The sickness of a sudden horroi cane unon her, and with a slow, irePcSured motion, her hands dropped 'torn before her face, and her eyes -.vent gradually up to the white, i-ag'-ard face of her father. She now that he had heard everything, rr.d she stared at him with a great

/it/ hi her heart for him. She had -,0~ thought at all for herself, but only for him.

" Oh, papa," was all she couid say, but her voice was well as her glance was laden with the pain that welled ■:p in her heart for him. A little tremulous smile broke over his lips at the sound of her voice, anc here was a sob in his throat as he spoke.

" I was in there, \ ioiet. I would not. have listened, no matter what 'iad been said to attract my attention if it had not been in the belief that I could help you if I knew whal that man had to say. I had the rijht to listen, Violet, had I not?" "Yes, papa," she said, getting ui and leading him gently to where they oould sit side by side. " Yes, papa •ou had the right ; but I am sorry. Mot sorry for myself, papa, but sorry for the unhappiness that has come to you when I would have spard it. lam so sorry, dear papa." " Yes, I know that ; but I am not unhappy—it was a shock —a great hock, I may say. I think it would have been better if you had tpld me before. Not that I blame you, my lear ; doa't think I would do that. I -ever was more proud of you—than I am at this moment. I am very proud of you—and not the less so because I know you earned your living is a public singer ; made one, dear, I know it, by my—my cruelty." " Oh, papa," sobbed Violet, losing her self-control in the spectacle of her father, faltering a condemnation of himself, " don't say such things. I don't wish it —I can't bear it." "If you don't wish it," he said, patting her hand slowly, " I won't jay it. Only lam different, Violet. I am not affected by what I have heard in the way you would suppose. I don't mean that I am not sorry that it ever was as I now know it was ; but I—l would not think of being angry about it. I know that you could not think anything else. I remember now what you told me one day about a girl who had been driven to a life of labour that was considered degrading. I remember what I said, and I see now that you were giving me a chance to say what would have given you the opportunity to tell me all that you have concealed from me. I spoke according to my belief then, and I would speak differently perhaps now. I would like to know, dear, if Lady Westall has avoided me because of the answer I gave you that day. Did she know what 1 said ?"

" No, papa. I said nothing to her about it. I was only trying to discover if I might tell her to remain at home, so that you might say to her what I knew you intended to say."

" Yes, it was in my heart to say it then. Why did she avoid me ?" " Because she felt that you might say to her what would make it necessary for her to tell you thfc story of her life, and she believed, as I did. that you would not be able to overlook her misfortune. She thought you ought not to do so as Earl of Granthorpe. If you had [been only Melville Lisle she would have had courage to wait." " Melville Lisle would never have done anything that the Earl of Granthorpe should not do." " No, papa," said Violet, her disappointment showing in her tone. But he took no notice of it, and asked : "Do you think there is anyone else • who knows Lady Westall's story ?" " Nobody who would divulge it." " And yours ?" " That would not matter, papa. Mabel Marsden had a reputation that would only enhance that of Lady Violet Lisle." '"That is spotfcn bravely and proudly. How strange it seems in you, Violet ! You who used to be so gentle, to be so proud now. It seems as if you have stolen my pride from' me. If you had not borne yourself as you did when that wretcb was here I would have come in to aid youi lam very proud of you, Violet. I am even proud that you were Mabel Marsden. Were you—were you ever a chorus girl, dear ?" " No, papa ; but I should have been but for Lady Westall, who came forward to save me, although I was a perfect stranger to her." Violet looked wistfully at her father but he avoided her glance.

"It was very good of Lady Westall," he said. "I am very grateful to her for it. lam glad you not a chorus girl." " It w T ould not have degraded me if I had been. Ido not think less o: her because she was one."

It seemed singular to Violet that her father could have so far overcome his prejudices as to find easy forgiveness for her, but not enough to find it for Lady Westall, to whom she owed so much.

" You may be right., "Violet," he said. " Certainly, I think Lady Westall displays a very nice feeling in acting as she has done. Knowing what she does she could not well have done otherwise than avoid me. I have been greatly shocked as it is ; but it would have been worse to have her tell me. Yes, it is better that 1 have learned it as I have. Now she will be spared the pain of telling roe, and' I shall no longer wonder why she remains away from us. Truly it was providential." Violet was pained more than siv: would let her father see to hear bin speak as he had, and she rose from his side realising for the first time (row unnerved she had been by her interview with Lord Coldenham ; for the sudden appearance of her father

lad for the time driven the tlimiglii of self out of her mind. " I am glad you know everything, 3apa," flic said, sadly, " though I I :im sorry yon cannot feel differently about, Lady Wcstall." '■ It is not possible to regulate our feelings," hft answered, nv«i<lin;r bis dnusrhter's sorrowful regard. She left the room, and he sat where ?he had left him for several minutes before moving. Then he arose am: -railed to himself, muttering : "It was worth a 1 ling's ransom to hear her. She may be bound by ! ier bargain with that .scoundrel, bat I am not, and I shall have a word with him. Not yet, however—not yet. Other matters first. Ah, she 's as proud as ever I was ; but I think her pride must fall, as mine did ";and he walked away with an odd smile on his still tremulous lips, for he had been deeplj moved indeed. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE BLOOD OF THE LISLES. In the afternoon after his interview with Violet, the Earl of Granthorpo told her that he was called to London on important business, asking at the same time if there was anything for him to do there for her. She told him no, and he left her. " I may not be home to-night," ht said, as he drove away. Late that same afternoon Lady Westall sat at her piano, murmuring her grief in music ; for indeed her heart was very heavy. It was not only that she had lost Violet, who was so dear to her, but that the man to whom she would have been willing to devote her remaining years seemed too indifferent even to learn why she remained aloof from him. "I should have known better at my age," she said, with a sort of selfscorn that was far more bitter even than would have been that of another. "He had passed beyond the period when a new liking could hold his feelings for more than a 1-riel while, or with a stronger hold than a mere, lukewartn friendship. I air a foolish old woman ! What have I to do with love ? It is a folly which all sensible people will laugh at."

She laughed at herself with a bitter weary laugh and thought how all her life had been wasted. Then her better and sweeter sense gained the control and she chided herself for her wickedness.

" A wasted life," she said. " How can that be, when I have been able to save Violet from I know not what miseries ? No, no, I ought to be thankful that I was permitted that much happiness in the world ; and I am thankful." With sudden fervour she swept her fingers over the keyboard in the prelude to the " Gloria in Excelsis," and then poured her soul out in the words.

" Why," said a voice from the doorway, " have you and Violet kept all your wealth of song hidden away from me ?"

" Lord Granthorpe !" exclaimed Lady Westall. " Indeed, yes," he answered gailymore gaily than ever she had seen him. "It is the old story of Mahomet and the mountain. The mountain, you know, would not come to Mahomet and so Mahomet came to the mountain I have begged you, through Violet, to come to Granthorpe, and you would hot, so I have come to beg in person. What ! are you not even glad to see me ?"

She had not risen from her seat at the piano. She was wondering why he had come, and if she was to be put to the pain of telling him her story ; and if she were to tell it to him, what would he do ? "Oh, I am glad to see you," she answered, rising and going towards him with outstretched hand. " But I am surprised to see you here. I thought jou were at your castle at Granthorpe."

" I heard you singing, and I asked the servant not to announce me. I did not know that you could sing at all, and now I discover that you have a voice fit for the harmonies ol heaven. Oh, you and Violet have a settlement to make with me ! I have discovered the same thing ol Violet only by chance ; and there is nothing I love more than music. Come, what is your apology ?"

She could not enter into h's merry mood, but answered, with a pretence of lightness : " I think the apology is due for ever making it necessary for you to compliment so poor a voice." " That is the same as saying I am no judge. But come," he said more seriously, " tell me why you have not come to see us. Have I failed in any way in courtesy towards you ? Is there any sin of omission of which lam guilty ? I will gladly do anything to make amends. What is the reason ?"

" There iB no reason," she answered nervausly.

" Then you will make us a visit ? I have come here for no other purpose than to induce you to come to Granthorpe Castle. When will you come ?"

"It will not. he possible yet," she answered, confusedly.

" No," he snid, gravely, " I cannot take such an answer as that. Remember that I was your visitor for several weeks and you owe it to me to honour my honsc."

" I will come at some later time ; not now," slic answered, not knowing what excuse to give.

(To be continued.)