CHAPTEK X. LOVE AND JEALOUSY.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 156, 12 June 1886, Page 7

CHAPTEK X. LOVE AND JEALOUSY.

Tub wind -whistled down the chimney, and the shadows of the leaves and branches danced again on the 'white window curtain*. It seemed to Clarence that everything—excepting his own heart — must have been hushed and still, so long as that spectral figure was in the room.' , , fie rose and felt the box. It was locked as he had left it. He felt the door, and found that the knobs turned wi<h a noise and an effort, •' Can it be possible," he reasoned, " that lam the victim of a delusion ? It must be. I've heard of people being in such, a mental state that they could not distinguish between their waking and sleeping acts." Be lay down again, and this time there was no room for doubt as to his condition, for it seemed that he had but just closed his eyes when he was roused by hearing a pounding on his door. " Hello 1" he called out. bell hasruug, sir," said Minnie, " and breakfast's all ready." •« Tell them not .to™ wait. I'll be out ahortly." As Clarence said this, he leaped out of \\%m bed, to find the room flooded with sunlight, and the gilded mountings of the toysterious box flashing like gold. • While dressing", he became more and more •Convinced that the figure in white of the night before was a delusion. But, be that as it may, he decided to save himself from anything like ridicule by saying nothing at all about hiß very remarkable experience. " Willowemoe is a famous place to eat and sleep," said Dr. Berisford, when Clarence appeared at the breakfast table and biushingly confessed that he could have slept on for another hour or two. *' I am glad," said Shirley Benson, who felt that he had got ahead of Clarence in early rising, if in nothing eke, " that this out-of-the-world place has something to commend it." 44 Mr Benson forgets hia friends at "Willowemoc," said Madame Barron, with a smilo for the young man and a bow for the table. "Oh, the doctors and Miriam know what I mean. Of course, if it were not for them I should never leave the world and come to this place." said Shirley, glancing at Clarence, who did not seeca to hare heard him. "I have heard my grandmother say," said Mrs Ash worth, "that when she was a girl, and lining here at Willowemoc, there was not in all the land a gayer place JFrom her description, it must have been here at the Manor much like the fetes and carou^ings in baronial ca3tles during the middle ages." "And your grandmother -my grandaunt—was quite right,'' eaid the doctor. Then turning to Clarence, he continued : " By the way, cousin, your great-grand-mother was born in the room in which you Blept last night." *'I might have taken more interest and been more wakeful if 1 had been apprised of that before going to bed," said Clarence. He did not look at Miriam as he spoke ; but he felt that her wonderful grey eyes were readiqg hia face, and in some way discovering the secret of the previous night's adventures. The breakfast hour paesed very pleasantly, for the doctor was not only a charming conversationalist himself, but he had the rare tact of drawing out all those about liim. After breakfast Miriam and Shirley Benson went off for a horseback ride. There was no reason in the world why Clarence Aehworth should feel a pang at his heart as he watched the young people riding away, yet he did feel it. He thought Miriam wonderfully beautiful from the moment he first set eyes on her ; but now, as he looked after her superb iorm, which the close-fitting riding-habit displayed to perfection, he wondered if it were possible for any human being to be more lovely. " And only to think," he thought, " that she endures the advances of that puppy." At college Clarence Ashworth had known Shirley Benson for a fellow who had no standing in his classes, and no t&ste for athletics ; while he did have an inordinate passion for wine, cards, and loose associates. "Our young friends look charming." These words startled Clarence from his xeveir, and turning quickly round, he saw Madame Barron standing near him, her ■right hand pointing at tne now galloping horses. " Yea -quif'e so," eaid Clarence, stepping Jback so as to come to the lady's side. They stood in the lower end of the lawn ; at their feet a clear, swift brook, and overhead a wide-spreading oak tree, with rustic ■eeats beneath. "There is a delightful view from here, and the breeze is so refreshing and grateful." said Madame Barron, sitting down on a .rustic bench, and motioning Clarence to a place by her side. There was something about this woman that repelled him ; why, he could not explain to himself ; yet, under the circumstances, he could not refuse the proffered eeat, nor avoid the conversation which be felt he was in for. By this time the riders had disappeared around the Hanging Rock, which rose up like a great monument above the place where the man bad been murdered. "I understand," said Madame Barron, in "her very sweetest tones, " that you and Mr Benson are very old friends." "I have known Mr Benson for several .years," said Clarence, guardedly. " Indeed ! Why, I thought you were laoys. together." She turned and looked at .him as if she expected him to retract what he had just said. "Hardly that, Madame Barron. My mother and Mr Benson's had been at school together, and since then they have been friends. I, of course, have heard of Shirley Beneon ever since I can remember, but I never met him till he came to Vale, when I was in my junior year," said Clarence. "He is like one of the family here," said Madame Barron. " So it seems." *• Oh ! quite so." The saadame hesitated «8 if she were debating the propriety of uttering what was on the tip of her tongue ; finally she agreed to do so. " And," she ■continued, "it is natural that he should seem to be what he will soon be in fact." " I beg your pardon— what is that ?" asked Clarence, who had lost the thread of conversation. " Why, one of the family. Surely, Mr Ashworth, I am not giving you any news when I tell you that Mr Benson is engaged to Miss Miriam—"

, '•But you certainly •retelling, me news," hesaii.haireWting from his B eat,»nd woman the secret bVwae so anxious to keep from' this.wdria. "',*'' J' • ' «?*t;j&& been /understood; 1 ' 1 f th6 madame, without eeemini? to notice the young man's manner^--*' ohi yea, it has been understood by their parents, ever since they were children, that they were to marry when Miriam became of age, and the is very near that now." "And the young people have agreed to the plans of their parents ? It rarely turns out so.", , "But you can see," said the madame, waving her hand in the direction which the riders had taken, Vif it had not tiirried oat so in this case., ThO dear chiljl ' fairly worships that youth ; and he is, worthy of all, Mr Ashworth." "No doubt." " Oh, yes. He is so generous, so brave, so devoted." Then, after a pause and a sigh : "I ( know not what. I shall do when he takes my darling child away." ' * Is' that event in the near future ?" " I believe it is j but, of course, as you are a kinsman, the doctor will tell you all about ' it before you leave ; and then we shall have the pleasure of having you back again to Berisford Manor," said Madame Barron, with a little laugh that made Clarence dislike her more than ever. It seemed- to him that she had discovered his secret, and that she was now taking a malicious delight in torturing him. Vet a moment's reason convinced him of his error. Why should she suspect what he was not sure of himself? Why should she, >vho bad been so kind in the hour of his greatest distress, wish to inflict pain on him now ? Clarence Aehworth'e manly nature revolted against the suspicions that wero so unworthy of him, and he at once thought better of Madame Barron. What could be more natural than that she, who had been as a mother to Miriam, should now have her heart so full of the dear girl's interests as to be unable to repress her feelings in the presence of those who would listen, and particularly in the presence of him who had been accepted as a kinsman With the gentler mood upon him, Clarence said, with a manner that better became him : " 1 thank you, Madame Barron, for having told me all this about Miss Miriam, There are but few men in the world who are worthy of her hand ; and if Benson should prove to be the right man I shall be glad for her sake; though I muse confess that up to this time I have not been giving him full credit for the qualities which he must possess to win the love of such a girl as Miriam Berisford." The madaine saw through the change in his feeling and manner as quickly as it was made, for with a smile intended to express secrecy, she whispered : " Is not love blind ?" " I cannot speak from experience." " Yet Cupid is so represented ?" " Tou are right, Madame Barron." "And he who originated the beautiful myth was right and knew all about the human heart. Cupid delights in yoking the unequal, and so he ehould be represented as keen-eyed, while his victims are temporarily blind. Bu' the scales fall from their eyes after a time, and then mocking Love is away entangling other hearts. What cares he ?" " And you think this will be a case in kind ?" " Oh, no ; I did not say that. Mr Benson is a most excellent young man, and he has that which enhances every other excellence." »* What is that, Madam Barron ?" " Great wealth." " I am afraid you are right." "Ah !" she said, with a slight shrug of the shoulders, "I know I am right. ' She might have added more, but at that instant Minnie came down to say that Dr. Beresford wished to see Mr Ashworth at the house. " I thought that the doctor had told you all this about Mies Miriam and Mr Benson," eaid Madam Barron, as she accompanied Clarence up to the house. "I need not, therefore, ask you to consider what I have told you as strictly confidential." " I could half wish that you were mistaken in all you have told me ; but to me it Rhall be as if it had not been said," replied Clarence. The doctor was found in his beautiful library, surrounded by scientific appliances, and looking the very model of a great and philanthropic philosopher. " I have been unable to banish from my mind," said the doctor, when Clarence had taken a seat, " What you said about the kreese, or Thug dagger which your brother secured in India. Hss it reached this country yet ?" "It has. I saw it for the first time about a week ago ; and it is exactly such a weapon as you described in your evidence, and the like of which 1 believe you said you had not seen since you were a boy," said Clarence. " My grandfather brought such a weapon from India with him," the doctor wect on, " and I distinctly recall having seen it when I was a child. The blade and its history were so very odd that I have often thought of it since ; and I have made every effort to find it, but it is undoubtedly lost -" " It may not be," interrupted Clarence. He was on the point of telling the doctor of hia discovery^ but ho checked himself with a gasp. The old gentleman wae in a dreamy mood, and so did not notice the young man's startled manner and eager, questioning eyes. " Would it be a great trouble for you, Cousin Clarence," he continued, " to fetch here this curious dagger ?" "It would be a pleasure for me to do bo, sir," said Clarence, "if you would like to ccc it. 1 ' "I certainly should like to see it. Of late years I have become much interested in Hindoo matters, and I was particularly impressed with the story of the famous daggers made for the idcls Kali and Siva, the destroying deities of the .murderous Thugs. It has struck me that the dagger brought by my grandfather, Genoral Berisford, and that secured by your lamented brother, might be those famous but fatal weapons," said the doctor, with the same dreamy manner. Clarence Ashworth was puzzled. He was convinced that the doctor was incapable of deceit, and so could not be aware of the dagger already in his possession ; yet there was a mystery in all this, a mystery made more terrible by the murder of his brother.