THE ROMANCE OF WALLIS COURT.

Patea Mail, Volume IX, Issue 1092, 28 September 1883, Page 2

THE ROMANCE OF WALLIS COURT.

LITERATURE.

(Concluded .) Some months passed wearily away, when this time it was aunt Belle who was taken seriously ill. The doctors did not give its any hope of her being able to recover, although she did not appear to bo so bad as they stated her to be. Her mind seemed very uneasy, and she gave me the idea of wanting to say something, but was continually checking hersolf, I was very miserable at the possibility of losing her, and more so that I had hidden anything from her. Should I tell her? Tell her what? That ij had picked up a chance acquaintance,! had fallen in love with him, and that he was an notor ? No ; I felt I could not. It sounded so bad, and yet it was simple. But it would make her last moments wietched, and X would give all in my power to lot her pass away happily, as far as it wag in my power to do so, in return for her life of devotion to me. So I kept my secret, and tried —but how vainly—to forget him for her.

Weeks passed away without any visible change taking place in aunt Belle’s condition, and the doctor said that though the end was not far off, she might linger on for some months. Miss Marchmrmt was going to be married, and had wished me very much to be her bridesmaid. I had told her that I was afraid of leaving aunt Belle for a day even, in case anything should happen while I was away, and I had quite settled in my mind (hat I would not leave her; when, to my surprise, she herself wished me very much to go, and pressed me to remain there a few days. As I never argned any point with her for fear of wearying her, I accepted the invitation, bnt reluctantly, and feeling altogether too much out of spirits to be a guest at any festivity. Aunt Belle was evidently getting fidgety about my departure, and made me feel, though without expressing it, that it would be a relief to her to know I had started. I fancied that she thought the change would do me good, and that in her usual unselfish way she was afraid something might occur to prevent me from having what she considered some amusement; so bidding her an affectionate farewell, and saying I should not be away more-than three days, I departed with a sad and heavy heart. I arrived at the Marehmonts the day before the wedding, and found them all very merry and very busy. The next morning we were all up early, a flood of sunshine awaking ns betimes. There was not a hitch of any sort in any of the arrangements of this genial household, bnt I had received a letter from aunt Belle which nearly broke my heart, though I had to hide my feelings so as not to jar on the festivities around me. It must have been written very hurriedly, and ran as follows :

‘My Darling Child,—l wished you to go away for a little time, that I might write what I dared not tell you ; and I must do so as briefly as possible, as I feel I cannot last very long now, I thought it right to let my son know I was dying, and felt I would like to see him once again. I got ray lawyer to find ont where he was, to write to him, and tell him of my wish to see him; also to acquaint him with the fact that I ,could not now alter my will, as 1 had made it in your favour and could not now retract. I soon received an answer from him , as follows:

‘My Dearest Mother, —I am very glad that yon have at last recalled me, and am very grieved that yon are so ill that I may not have the hope of seeing ns much of you as ray heart desires. My life has been a hard struggle for many years, but now at last I can manage to live without the patrimony and fortune I was entitled to. I do not grieve at your having left it to my cousin, but if you will consent to my marrying her, and I can win her love, I shall have nothing to regret but the years I have been entrangled from you. I shall be at Wallis Court on the 17th July— Your affectionate son, Maurice Wallis.’ ‘ For months, my darling, I have been worrying myself about you and him. I felt, as my end was approaching, that I had not behaved well to him, and I knew I could not restore what was his by right Without altering the will I had made in your favour. When his letter came a new hope dawned for mo, and I grasped it with a gratitude 1 cannot express. By marrying you Maurice would regain his own property without depriving yon of it. This thought has given mo new life, or rather has softened the pangs of death. You, my darling, have never loved any one before, and cannot fail to love my handsome son. I wrote back and told liitn that his marriage with you would gladden my last moments. Oh 1 Pauline, conic back after the wedding and lot mo join your hands and his before I die. This unexpected emotion is killing mo fast, although it makes me supremely happy. To-morrow evening I will send Mat with the horses, that yon may come back quickly, God bless you, my child—my daughter.-—Your loving aunt, Belle Wallis.’

I was perfectly dismayed at the contents of this letter. What could I do ? Refuse aunt Belle’s dying wish, after her devotion to me, or marry a man I had never seen, and could never love ? I don’t know how I put on my bridesmaid’s dross. I felt in a'dream—a nightmare. As we-drove to church I resolved in my mind to accept him for aunt Bello’s sake, and then when my aunt was 4 -laid in her grave I would tell him I loved another man, and could not marry him, but would return him all his property. I had not time to consider whether this was wrong or not, for I sat next a chatty groomsman, and had to try and talk while my thoughts were elsewhere. The ceremony took place, the sun shining on the happiest couple I have over seen. As I thought of my own position I thought I should have broken down. But there was

one thing I ahyays could do—suffer, and make iio sign. _ Th e wed - ding breakfast was like all others, I suppose, and would have delighted me as a novelty, had my mind been at peace. The bride changed her dress, and left in the summer afternoon, looking the pictn r e of happiness. I had not said a word to her ’about having to leave directly she was gone. I had behaved just like, the other bridesmaids, and had not shrieked, ns I felt inclined to, when I overheard my groomsman tell my neighbor that he had seen the celebrated actor, Morcton Temple, in Westvillethe previous evening. As ho was not acting, there now, I thought he must be mistaken ; but 1 said nothing. When the bride had departed I told Mrs Marehinont that I had had a letter from aunt Belle in the morning, saying ] must return at once, as she was feeling worse. At seven o’clock the horses came, brought by our new groom, Watson having left ns to get married. The man had a note for me, which I hurriedly opened. It was from Maurice and ran as follows;-

‘ My dear Cousin, —My meeting with my mother seems to have been almost more than she could bear, and I am afraid it is now a question of hours. I tell you this to prepare yon, as I do not think, from what others tell me, her end was snppoced to be so near. ‘ Yours faithfully, ‘ Maurice Wallis.’ I got into my habit ns quickly as possible, and my only thought was to get to her and bid her good bye, although as I.tore along the road on that summer evening the thought flashed across me that, if I arrived too late, I should be spared a promise I could not keep. I would . have sacrificed anything to be able to kiss ray dear good aunt before she died. It was dark when I reached . Wallis Court. I jumped off my horse and ran lightly upstairs into her bedroom. Parkins was waiting outside, crying bitterly. ‘ She is not ■’ was all I could utter.

* No, miss, but she cannot last the night.’ I gently turned the handle of . the door, and went softly in. Miss Marchmont and a man were standing on the other side of the bed. I could not see much, for the sun had just gone down, and my eyes were full of tears as I bent over aunt Belle and put my arms round her and ; kissed her. She was very feeble, but had.not lost consciousness. ‘ I knew, you would come, darling, and I know you will consent to what I asked * * you * -in * * letter * * Maurice, give me your hand # * from Pauline * * my darling children * * you have made me cry * * happy. God bless you.’ With my head buried on her shoulder and my hand firmly grasped by my cousin, I felt ray poor dear aunt pass away. We did not move for some time. The doctor came softly, and looked at her. ‘lt is all over, Wallis; take your cousin away.’ It was almost dark now; my cousin came round to ray side, and taking me gently but firmly in his arms, carried me to the open window in aunt Belle’s dressing room, then wiping his face with his handkerchief, he murmured softly—- ‘ My love, my wife !’ and as I looked up at him, I saw I was in the arms of Moreton Temple.