UNKNOWN

King Country Chronicle, Volume VII, Issue 609, 5 November 1913, Page 6

UNKNOWN

9HHH mgr PART 40. fIHHH i fet his life, his precioaHHEßHp® febbing away. It was four o'clock when they arrived. He seemed to know by instinct that they had come, for he looked up with a bright, peculiar smile into the doctor's face. "They are here ! Yon—now you sba'l not go down to frighten Evelyn. Let her see me, and judge for her;;:-lf.'' The door opened and a tall, beautiful woman, of queenly grace and prcsc-nce, entered. She did not look around ; she went straight to the bedside and knelt down there. "Clive," 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 when I sent. I am not strong ; you must not think I am a baby because I cry." His lips quivered, and great tears ro led down his face. He sobbed a'oud.

" I cannot help it," he said, piteionsly. "I cannot help it. I knew she would come. God biess 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 iu 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 in danger are. "I do not think so," she said. "I have heard something of yoar accident ; but I do not think you look so very ill." "I was coming to you," he cried. "I could not bear this suspense. I 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 the carriage I think. But see, I have neither cut nor bruise, and my head is clear. I feel numb, as though all sensation in my nerves was going ; but I am not much hurt, Evelyn, am I ?" 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 and covered them with kisses. "'Yo.i heap coals of fire on my head, darling," he said. "I knew 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 Olive." And bending over him she kissed bis face.

"God bless you !" he sobbed. "I knew you were noble and true, Evelyn. Will you take off those heavy travelling-wraps ? Take ofi 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. Then Dr. Turner, thinking they would like a few minutes to be alone left the room.

"Florence," said the sick man,

"the has forgiven me. Thank you for all yoi: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, let m; hear 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 hy me ; let my head 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 I leave you ?" he ;-aid, "how could I do it, Evelyn ?"

She laid her sweet lips on his. "Not another word, Clive. We will forget that miserable past." He did not see tJie 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 tee. was brought to her. The servant at the sametime slipped a folded paper in her hands. She opened it and read : "Try to prepare your husband for the great change ; the injury to his back is mortal ; he cannot live beyond the sunset."

him his side,, ana enter. bitterly ; he lookat her. |jEi|||fy do you cry so, Gertie ? I ■BKfet) worse, am I ?" |Pr looked in his wife's face, ami jfead something there that, for the iirst time frightened him. "Evelyn," he cried, "is —is what they say true, love ? Am ] sioin;: away ?" She laid her tender hands solemn• ly on him. "It is true, dive, my husbuml •; 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 happy ever afterwards.' You were right." "We have eternity for happiness,

she whispered. "I am justly punished," he saia. "The great God, whose arm is raised is just. I left you voluntarily, Evelyn ; for all those long years I have lived away from you, away from wife and child —neglecting every duty—and now, w r hen 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 I 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 wife."

Miss Ralston went round to him ; there were tears in her eyes, but 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 your own special charge. You will befriend them in every way. Will you, Florence ?" ' !, I will, indeed," she said. "They shall be to me like sisters of my own." "Let me tell you what I should like. Ah, Evelyn, they are right ; those doctors are right. I feel the strangest weakness. Hold my hands fast, darling ; do not let me float away on the deep, dark stream until [ have told you what I wish. "You have had a sad, solitary life —you and Gertie, both. Now, after [ am dead, and you have mourned ' For me as I know you will mourn, ' Rvelyn, I wish you to take your place in the world —that place my selfishness has so long shut you out l from. No more retirement, Evelyn ; uo more solitude. You will find a thousand duties. Gertie here will succeed me ; but, in our family, there is a rule that when a daughter inherits she is not of age until she is twenty-lour. So you will be queen regent for some years yet, Evelyn." There was a little stir in the room, Sir. Grey, the lawyer, had entered. Lord Gotbwic looked at him. "I wanted to see you, Grey. You | will hear in mind that I acknowledge my wife, Lady Gothwic, and my daughter, Lady Gertrude Noel, here in your presence. Serve them as well as you have served me. I ask no more." The sun was setting, and his voice was growing hoarse and feeble. He rested for a few minutes, and then he wandered in his speech. He was back at Garbace, with baby Gertie in his arms and his wife by his side ; but the great burden was always : "God is just, God is just ! That which in defiance of His law I flung away from me, I may not have now; that which I gave away I may not take back again. God is just." His strength seemed to fail with the setting of the sun. There was 110 one with him now but Dr. Turner, his wife, and Lady Gertrude. "I mast die in yoar arms, Evelyn. 1 he said, and she raised the drooping head and pillowed it on her breast. Gertie knelt by him, her hands clasped in his. He died so. How long he lay conscious they could not tell. There was no pain, no distress, iSvelyn said in a clear, distinct. voice the prayers that she had learned as a child, and he repeated them very faintly after her. GHAPT3R LXVUI. After a time bis voice quite «ied away, anil 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 golden rays fell upon a face so white and. changed that Evelyn started up in dismay. I U was dead. All his sins, his follies, and his virtues died with him. There was universal sorrow wtn-i: it became known. The papers ior n week afterwards spoke of the accident ; the lasiiio&able world positively refused to take breath in the midst o< its wsM vAiel. of pleasure. One qaes&oa was sever solved —I. who write tire story, cannot answei it myself—''\PosM Bveiyn have gone back to fesr if it hadn't beei. for this aecisJsafc 7" He had giver her so nteny days 'in which to decidt and he died, bsiasre her decision was made. Reraeriiberuog' the noble nature of the vronsc.a, her lofty mind. per noble soul, her queenly contempt fig® <2jLI <T£rvs dishos»ouraM«

incKned to think su: gone back to In. But death lrvei.injuries 31—jflHBicnibi nvl tis a I MT-'*o th:- stately mansion bore sign.|Bf de»pe.sr. mourning ; I lie idirds w.-rt drawn. the servants dress-;; in idaei; the '...dies of the house were in'.'isi ble. IVi>;>K' to id each other thai Lord Uutbv ie was dead —liov- :-ad H was—what a sad event —s&d UK-n t.h< world went its merry way ano forgot him. Four days afterwards they tool him down to Gothwic Towers anc buried him in liu- family vault, o the Gothwies ; the ladies went, too and v. hen the funeral was over tht Coiiniess ..f Gothwic and Lady tier trade Noel took up the:'- abode at Gothwic Towers. Miss iialston wad with them ; noblt natures are quick to recognise ant Love each other. There were not twe dearer friends in all the world thar; these two women whom the dea« man had loved. It was decided that they should spend a year in mourning there, airc when it was ended the earl's wist was to be carried out —they were tc take a prominent part in the brilliant world. * * • • The months of mourning passed, and gradually it seemed that the touch of Time's kindly linger wipec from the still beautiful face of Lasdj Gothwic the sad traces of the kmg drawn sorrow of her life, so noblj borne all through. Often, however, when alone amid the stately surroundings of tbe grand home which should, in happier circumstances, have been hers by right for years, Evelyn thoftgbt on all the anguish she had suffered, and pondered over the strangely trsgiea! episode that swiftly succeeded thf restoration to her —too late for the healing on earth of her heart wounde —of the 'fealty of the only man she had ever loved, the bereaved Countess caught herself imagining that it was the winsome, trusted haatxuad of her unblighted youth who had died in her arms, and whom sfeM would rejoin in the Hereafter. Thenceforth all her deep aSactios was concentrated on her darling daughter—hers and his ; asd tendecty she watched Lady Gertrude take the place for which her rank and bright charmful graces alike befitted ber.

Sad was the end of Alice and Leonard Ainsleigh. Tireir loveines union culminated in unreasoning jealousy and an exhibition of angry self-will on her part and disgusted indifference on his, which interventions by Aveline Ainsieigb ooiy accentuated. In a fit of passion —at length took herself to the sea-coast after a quarrel, and Leonard, following, found her on the clifis almost fnensied. There she goaded him beyood bearing by groundless aeeutsations, and he, lifting his hand agsi&st her in his wrath, she stepped back, loat aer footing, and was prscipitaied cm the rocks below. The fsSl vras febsi, and the altercation having teen witaessed by Coastgaarctemtsa. Leußsni was arrested and tried for his life. On his committal his n»W:«r visited him, and after her leave-tateing tie was found dead in the ce3. poisoned by prussk- acid. A mercsfei jury brought in, in tecs ca:a\ ;i verdict of "Suicide during insanity",; and Leonard was b.Tried : quietly in Carisbrook (JhMrcbyssal. whither the mangled remains of Histarred Alice had been taken by ber stricken father but a few days previously. Aveline Ainsteigh did not long survive her bitter los.«. With Evelyn—now styled ttoe Dowager Countess Gothwic —and tte young Countess time sped caisnly and brightly, each seeming all in afl to the other. But in due course there cause grand doings at Gothwic Towers when the Lady Gertrude reached her legal majority and was installed as sole poesessor of the demesne. As mistress of the Towers she soon made beys®?f dearly loved by all tbe tenants and dependants of the great estate. The young Countess might have made one of the most, briiir&nt matches in the land, Imt, v.Sfh the smiling acquiescence of her mother, she one day acknowledged to hrr faithful cavalier, Sir Kdwa:r.i tVckham, that she liked him bciaer ; luui any of her many wooers, an J. (,> his delight, promised at last io wed him. For Gertrude respected ;m>i honoured Sir Edward. His rhnraetcr one 1 hat seen red her highest esteem, and she soon learned to care for him with a love ot which she had not thought herself Thus wiih i ite hero re tbeiu bright as the sumir.er :-;h\ shining over them, we bid 'hem and tin? now placid .Dowager i'ountess adieu. THK BND.