rived. He seemed to know by instinct that they had come, for lie looked up with a bright, peculiar smile into the doctor's face. "They are here ! You—now you sha''l not go down to frighten Evelyn. Let her see me, and judge for hersc-lf." The door opened and a tall, beautiful woman, of queenly grace and presence, entered. She did not look around ; she went straight to the bedside and knelt down there. "Olive," she said, bending her beautiful face over him, "you wanted me, and I have come. "I knew you would, Evelyn, my darling wife —my true, noble love. Doctor, this is my wife, Lady Gothwic ; an.l, you see—God bless her ! she has come ; she came directly v. hen I sent. I am not strong ; you must not think I am a baby because I cry." Kis lips quivered, and great tears ro"led down his face. He sobbed a'oud. " I cavnot help it," he said, piteiously. "I cannot help it. I knew she would come. God bless her.!" Evelyn raised her eyes to the doctor, and received his courteous greeting with that sad, sweet smile. "Now, Evelyn, my own wife, there is truth in your eyes and on your lips. You would not deceive me. Tell me, do I look so very ill ?" She. looked earnestly at him. His eyes had a glassy light and his lips quivered strangely ; but he was not ghastly and livid as those ie danger are. "I do not think so," she said. "I have heard something of youc accident ; hut I do not think you look so very ill." "I was coming to you," he cried. "I could not bear this suspense. T was coming by express this morning, and, Evelyn, I fell, dear ; the train was just in motion, and I was thrown off. I fell, dear, under tiie carriage I think. But see, I have neither cut nor bruise, and my head is clear. I feel numb, as thougii all sensation in my nerves was going ; but I am not much hurt, Evelyn, affi 1 ?" She looked again into the doctor's face. The expression she read there made her heart stand still. He shook his head gravely and solemnly; she read a death warrant in his face. "I shall be able to tell you more when I have been longer with you," she said gently. He caught her hands ant! covered them with kisses. "'Yo.i heap coals of fire on my head, dealing." he said. "I kne'S? you would come. Oh, Evelyn, Evelyn ! say you will not leave me ?" Remembering that death warrant on the doctor's face, she said :
'"I will not leave you Clive." Ami bending over him she kissed bis face. "God bless you !" he sobb-ad. "I knew you were noble and true, Evelyn. Will you take eft" those heavy travelling-wraps ? Take o2 your bonnet, darling, and let me see you move about the room as though it were your own." She did everything he asked her ; such infinite pity tearing her heart that it was with difficulty she could bear the pain. "Now, let me see Gertie," he said ; and in a few minutes Gertie was kneeling by him —Florence, too ; but she, far more experienced, read what was 'coming in those glassy eyes. Thru Dr. Turner, thinking they would like a few minutes to be alone left the room. "F.oroncc," said the sick man, "she has forgiven me. Thank you for all yo.:r kindness ; you have been such a true friend to me—so good, so true ; you have told Evelyn all the truth. Oh, dear and noble friend she will always love you. Gertie, ict m:> h:ar you say father.'" "Dearest father," said the girl, with trembling lips, "make haste and get well, that we may be all happy together." "In a few days," he said. "See, here is a proof that I am not very ill. I remember that you have had a long journey, and no tea ; go and have something, then come back to me—not you, Evelyn ; they must send you something here." Miss Ralston and Gertie went away.
"v'o'.i must not leave me, Evelyn; not for one moment ; promise that." "I do promise it," she said. '''Come and sit by me ; let my bead rest near you. Oh, Evelyn, my wife, my wife. Will you sing to me darling ?" And in a clear sweet voice she sang an old lullaby to him, one that he had loved years ago by Gertie's cradle. "How could T leave you ?" he said* "how could T do it, Evelyn ?" She laid her sweet lips on his. "Not another word, Clive. We will forget that miserable past." He did not see the sorrowful pity in her eyes as she spoke. "You are an angel, Evelyn," he said. "Sing me to sleep." She did not move, even when the long-needed cup of tea was brought to her. The servant at the same time slipped a folded paper in her hands. She opened it and read : "Try to prspare your husband for the great change ; the injury to his hack is mortal ; be caaaot live beyond the sunset."
iirst time frightened him. "Evelyn," he cried, "is —is what they say true, love ? Am 1 exuua away ?" She laid her tender hands solemnly on him. "It is true, Clive, my husband.; you are going to the unknown land." There was a few moments of perfect silence, broken only by Gertie's sobs. "It is just," he said ; "I deserve it. I deserve to die." She tried to comfort him by loving words. "You remember, Evelyn, you said the ending 1 of the old fairy tales could never come for us ' they were tiappy ever afterwards.' You were right." "We have eternity for happiness, she whispered. "I am justly punished." he sain. "The great God. whose arm is raised is just. I left you voluntarily. Evelyn ; for ail those hong years I have lived away from you, away from wife and child —neglecting every duty—and now. when I would fain take my wife and child home to my heart, I am taken away from them. Whoever tells the story of my death, let them add, 'lt was but justice, after all.' " "Florence, you are here ; is it not just ? Evelyn, tell me how long T have to live ?" She bent over him and whispered something to him. "I shall see the sun set, but never see it rise again. Send for my lawyer at once ; lose no time. Florence, I want you —do not stir, Evelyn ; there are no secrets from you, my ivife." Miss Ralston went round to him ; there were tears in her eyes, hut she did not let them fall. '"Florence, if I am to die, you must give me one promise—that is. you will take my wife and child under pour own spe-eiad ti i»t >ou ill befriend them in m. v vis n ill you, Florence ?" '"I will, indeed,' ic 1 I I shall be to me li t i it) i\ own." "Let me tell yoi \ t r 11 like. Ah, Evelyn, iu \ it n lit those doctors are t I ret 1 h strangest weakness. Hold my hamfast, darling ; do not k( met away on the deep, (kit ti i uiti 1 E have toM you fth t 1 i u "You have had t d solit i\ in —you and Gertie, 100 \ uei E am dead, and you have mourned for me as I know you will mourn Evelyn, I wish joi tj tale j ->ui place in the wo;ld—ti-at u 1 et iuv selfishness has so kus shut t_ t u from. No more re reuem L iHn ao more solitude. You will liud thousand duties. Gertie here whl succeed me ; but, in our family there is a rale that \Uj ti lultti inherits she is not of "e tnii' h i twenty-four. So \t i till qui n regent for some yeais set 1 \el\n There v/as a Little ui in th u n Kir. Grey, the laws t Imd oi'ti 1 Lord Gothwie looks d i I i i "I wanted to see \ l n \ e i will bear in mind thtt T <_ vttov 1 i my wife, Lady ( ihwi anu m\ daughter, Lady t-'eitiude n el h u in your presence. it th i b well as you have I e1 mi 1 s no more." The sun was sett i l 1 i \ m was growing hoarse m I -<. h He rested for a k\ n i ik it then he wandered n i i 1 t was hack at Cat t til) \ Gertie in his arm ui t ift 1 his side; hut the it tt lii kn \t always : "God is just. Gt a i j Th which in defiance of Hi Is 1 tin away from me, I ma's not hi t i t \ that which I gave au\ tn \ nt take hack again. G-ou is just His strecgih seemed t it i with the setting of the s' n I hei t v. is i one with him now but Dr. Turne his wife, and Lady Gertrude "I must dis in yo*i E\ti\n he said, and she raised the droopin; head and pillowed it on her breast Gertie knelt by him hei h nds elasp ed in his. He died so. How long he lay conscious they could not tell. There was no pain, no Lvtlyu .j said in a clear, distinct voice the prayers that she had learned as a child, and he repeated them very faintly after her. CHAPTER LXVIII. After a time his voice quite died away, and his lips ceased to move. Once he whispered, "You forgive me, Evelyn ?" and she answered him. They did not know the moment he ! died. The sun was setting, and one of the last gold-an rays fell upon a face so white and changed that Evelyn started up in dismay. Hi was dead. All his sins, his follies, and his virtues di«l with him. There was universal sorrow whet: it became known. The papers for a week afterwards spoke of the accident ; the fasMo&able world positively refused to take breath in the midst of its w-ila. oi pleasure. One qnestfioa wtas never solved —1. who write tbe story, cannot answet it myself—"WosM Evelyn have gom back to frer if it hadn't beer, for this aeeftk-et 7" He had give'.: her so many days "in which to decidt and he died befcre her decision was made. Rememberi;m; the noble uatare of the womsia, her lofty mind. nobis seal, tesr q-aeenly contemn! iss ©ii t&ss& s?®s siaan. dishopoura*d«
drawn, the servants dress-e-d in black t!rt k.dies <>[■ the house were invisi ble. People tokJ each other that Lord Gothwie was dead—how sad il was what a s;tfi event —and then xh< world went its merry way again aae forgot him. Four days afterwards they tool him down to Gothwie Towers am. buried him iu the family va'.iii o the Gothwies : the ladies went, 100 and v, hen the funeral wax over t.ht Countess of Gothwie and Lady detrude Noel took up "ihoii' abode at Gothwie Towers. Miss tiatston was with ihsui : noitlt uatures are quick to recognise :>.«•. love each other. There were nut tw< dearer friends in all the world thai, these two women whom the dea<u niai! had loved. It was decided that they should spend a year in mourning there, am. when it was ended the earl's wis' was to be carried out— they were i c take a. prominent pa-rt iu the brilliant world. The mouths o-I moimiiag parsed. find gradually it seemed that tht I touch oi" Time's kindly tinker wince j from the still beautiful face of Lady j Gothwie the sad traces of tiie kingi drawn sorrow of her life, so nobh ' l)orn-.' all through. I Often. however, when adoae amid j tiie stately surrounding's of the grand I heme whieh should, is. happier rirj cumstanees. have been facrs by right I for years, Kvetyti thought, on all t.ht I anguish she had suffered, and pan j dered o\ er the strangtdy trissrka.' episode that swiftly succeeded Vu restoration to her —too late for the ] healiug on earth of her heart wound, 1 -. j —of the -'halty of the only man sht Isad ever loved, the bereaved Conntess caught berseif i"maginrn t <r tbr.t it was the winsome, trusted hussfcc4»d of her unblighted youth who hw'jd died iu her arms, and whom s&2 would rejoin in the Hereafter. Thenceforth all her deep alkKtioL was concentrated un her darling daughter—-hers and his ; urq i.cnd-er'y she watched Lady Gertrude take the place for whie'u her rank aatl bright .•harmful graces alike bsisttcd her. d t 1 U ( <1 I (ill Vn k ■" h til 11 1 i r tl Tit Hi . l t \ J. I U l I O 1 3 """> 'nl M 1 J U CI t I a 11 h it? j nj\- t 1 111 l i i x-) \C ui 1 i i >, 101 i-c x 'Ciigth ek 1! t rbt u-. erv <-t itei a u i 1 nl i toDco-d v or mg >ti 1 r t i < i it"- t irea i<! 11 i tit (. u i bovood jl h it t r > liinu „xcjt her i ' 'h -L< -4c-"„] \r L lost ri uti id \„t p-> a,; 1 tp-tcsl cm t"h i I) In list i * v~v l>ri aim tu it i e tion £_ I Jis- 1 1 % l c LjdiTJ! 1 *• "-i.~V U o i i nd trvc-I y I I*k i hi m i ttu 1 L~h L i h u au fit. h~" k t^t i ft i a dt \<i ' t - Cw. > ji ti 1 \ j i <. c~ i jr~ .a - -1 Hi \ 1 i 11 m i uhet I *- in U durnj t ~ v « i ini ind Li-tuitxi > ts i Hiiefh i ( ti brow Cdi c J [mil t ti ifka tea"Ja i i u 1 Mi 1 v iT ti'u I tllCl* it ft It UT, J„ V I viOU i\ VI tl c'll (. I 1 ur vt h t - hi *. »i ! hi \ i\ i o I t- i oimt oli t iiu tn iujlv p u c nd > i t 1\ r - i 1 r lo the tltl tin i out (v 1 "-e it I u.i kl t tl i 1 \«. Mi h i K ( tii (_ t.hid It t *it m )t i tt\ 111 Icl xi s Milt pj e h i i ] 1 \t - lit uoii i a-* her ""T i \ (. \ 1 1 \ til tu i) m t **i kp i nt 11 re tt i 1 l ui i nuss u, ( mitt i tht mo. t- 1 i ii"i it tt k n lit i mi tra< \ tn t t. mi i i tc H ilscl at o J u hx il n i kuo k e j It f l hu 1 \ i ii 1(1 t 0 i t i tam th 1 >n Ukei h.m ->e~"i' t i u i [ h n nt el au ! kli h " --eli ». t wc-l lui. ti ( iri i h c nl tun n tl si 1 id I'i (luit tiei v oik th l ccuit 1 Uei behest i ttt i n<l sat < hi bamev 1 To c -( i htt \ th I \ \ t ci lu 1 1 (hi l 1 ii r 11 apu*r c Tnii with lit boor t t. » t tu<. summei i i * ml i tatw we hi i fern alt p' =ul Do%a e T t otin'e I i lHa LMi
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King Country Chronicle, Volume VII, Issue 609, 8 October 1913, Page 6
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2,619Untitled King Country Chronicle, Volume VII, Issue 609, 8 October 1913, Page 6
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