CHAPTER X. " OH, MADIA' HAD SHE SOWED), BITTERLY TO

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 183, 18 December 1886, Page 11

CHAPTER X. " OH, MADIA' HAD SHE SOWED), BITTERLY TO

REAP." "What, not going to the opera?" cried Lord Leigh, entering the darkened room where Violet had been lying since the hour when she fled from the presence of Kenneth Keith. " Kate says you are ill of a headache. What a horrid bore. He had come back to dinner, Violet, aa usual, having been left to herself for the day. " Do you often have those headaches ? It will be a great plague. I counted on , your going to the Italian opera to-night. I promised Lady Clare Montreßsor we would meet her there." " I do not expect to hinder your going; and I cannoi help having tho headache, said Violet gloomily. " Why, yed, you can. Why do yoia give way to it? If you lie all day in this dark, amber-scented room, no wonder you. have headache. You should go out the first minute you feel it; go ride, visit, Bhake it off. Been alone here all day ? No callers ? * Yea ; Lord Kenneth Keith called," " Did he, though ? Wasn't he eurprised, to find you married ? Zounds, I wish I'd been here to see it," •'Why should he be surprised?" aßked Violet. "He saw you getting into the carriage yesterday, and spoke of you as Miss Ainslie; wished he had your address, and I promptlyaccommodated him, and never told him you, were Lady Leigh," and Lord Leigh gave hie own silent laugh over his " good joke." •'Then it was to yoxi, I was indebted forhis call," daid Violet, fire in her heart, as she thought of the agony of that morning scene. " Oh, he would have called anyway. Do you know he is a great admirer of yours ?■ Said he knew you when you were a charming little girl, or something like that." "But how did you know him?" asked Violet. "We were in Oxford together. He was peveral years younger, and not exactly in our set. He was of the heavy readers always pegging at his books. We gave, him the title of 'L.L.' without the D ' " *' What did that mean ?" " Literary Lord, to be sure. Poetic sort of a fellow, Keith. Fond of incognito — didn't like to be called by his title ; loved to wander off into the country for vacations. We suspected a love affair for him, fouryears ago this next fall, just after I left there ; but Tom Churchill told me Keith, went away for six or seven weeks somewhere in Lincolnshire, or some other piace, and when he came back he was in a state of sublime joy— more poetic than ever— had a , cabinet picture which he kept in a locked case, and a miniature which no one saw, but which he was detected in taking from his Droast-popkeS and looking at adoringly, in solitary moments. All that sort of nonsense, you know. Keith is just the man to. nourish a grand passion. Then he began to be melancholy, pale, thin— "went off hia feed," explained Leigh, as if the absent Keith were a horse " seemed all broken up, and the story was he was jiltedThough what girl in her wits would jilt Keith. I don't know —no end of money, and an old title. What do girls want V Thus Violet Leigh heard from her husband the history of her first love. The narrator fell into silence. " And then ?" said Violet, breathlessly. " Then ? You are interested. But, yes you, too, are a bit romantic ; you'll outgrow it. Then Keith seemed not to find his life any good to him; but he pegged, away and finished his examinations and took h(.nors, and went off through Europe, to Egypt, India, find now he is coming back, cured, of course, All men get cured of love, first or last, aa they do measles. Youarenotcomingtodinner? If I'd known I d have stayed at the club. It's poor amusement eating alone. I say, Violet, don't have headache again ; but if you do, let meknow in time, and I'll not come home to dinner. Good night ; hope I'll see you well in the morning. Have you all you want T " Yes : good night " sighed Violet. She had by no means what ahe wanted* The sad and lonely little heart wanted comfort, sympathy, tenderness, a love to surround it as an atmosphere ; but what she needed and craved she could never have. It was idle to think of it. The desire would not even be comprehended. When Lord Leigh left her, Violet had new food for thought, &ot merely her own woes absorbed her. She had been given a glimpse of Kenneth's grief when he thought she had forgotten him. Oh, cruol grandmother, who had so ruthlessly crushed two young hearts. And why had «he not been more trustful t Why had Bhe believed her true love fickle ? Why had not she herself been true and waited — waited years^ longer, if need be, until they two met again, as meet they must. Th& world is not so wide as to divide two loving hearts forever. How could she have assigned baseness to that clear-eyed, honest lover ? Oh, madly had she sowed, and bitterly was she reaping for herself and for him. If her heart was broken, then hia was broken, too. Then she began to think what sweetness - there would havo been in life if she had again met Kenneth, when she wag happy and unfettered, when explanations could be fully given and received, and love could answer love. But she woke with a start from these fancies, remembering that it was now her part to forget Keith entirely and forever, unless they two could securely pasa into the most quiet friendship. Gould they do that ? Then her mind reverted to Lord Leigh, If cold, he was not suspicious. His entire lack of feeling or suspicion, his careless trust in sending Keith to see her, called Violet to complete faithfulness to him in thought, as well aa in deed. Trust, whether rooted in caroleasnesa or in lovingness, should not be betrayed. And what made Leigh so careless ? Was it that he had no idea at all of love, or merely that in his marriage he had no love ? Did aha touch him least of all women ? liad he ever thought he loved Clare Montresdor, and had ho been wiled from Clare by that lovely face, that had neither rank nov fortune for its dower, and whom, aa she had heard that fatal voice say, to love forever? Would Leigh ever meet; Miss Ambrose, and would they also sorrow and part, as she and Kenneth had ? At loast, Lord Leigh was kind, polite, indulgent, seemed to wish her to enjoy herself, enjoy ! What idle talk. She never could be happy or enjoy anything ever again. Next morning Lord Leigh sent to inquire -if Lady Leigh was better and intended to appear at breakfast. Violet returned word that she would breakfast with him, % Norman Leigh, as the graceful, slender figure in white pique and cherry ribbons entered the sunny little breakfast-room, roalised, that hia wife was very sweet and attractive. A Bilent, shy, flying oroat«r»

she had been, even in the blaxe of ballrooms or the glitter of opera-houseß. Bub uovr, as he watched the play of varying emotions on that strangely mobile face, the eun and shadow drifting over the brown, changeful eyes, he felt the charm of her winsomeness. This waa, no doubt, a very attractive Ibeing whom he shortly would tat© to the .home of hi 1 ? ancestors. He kissed her hand, and asked after her health with more interest than he had evor beforo shown. 11 You need a littlo excursion to sot you up," he eaid. "If you like I will take you to Chantilly, and wo will row about the Courmelle Lakes. I don't mind trips where I can do anything, and I believe I'd like to pull an oar." " Thanks," said Violet, eagerly. She longed to get away from Paris, even for a day ; to fly the air breathed by Keith. Suppose he should come again and load hor with reproaches for her unfaithfulness and ready suspicion ? They went to Chantilly, and Leigh got his boat and pulled hie oar. Looking up in the midst of this delightsome exercise, he caught Violet' 9 eyes bent on him, with a singular expression — wistful, pained, reproachful, pitiful, like a wronged child. "I say, Violet," he exclaimed, "I don't think you had a very lively bringing up, and it makes you moody. You must go about more. A v asn't it deucod dull down there in Lincolnshire ?"' " I liked it ; I knuw nothing elso," said Violet. " And what did your grim old grandmother talk about?'' " Mostly warning me never to marry, as people would only follow me and marry me for my money, not myself. 1 ' "They might have said that if you were an ogress. I say it was very siupid talk, it to make you suspicious M "It was all their talk," cried Yiolot defiantly. "Uncle Henry was always tolling of the dangers of an heiresb, and aunt always giving me my way, openly, bocause of my money. I grow to fear and bate it. I felt like a fine plumed bird, sure to bo shot for its feathers. Wretched little chippy birds are far better oil, 1 think. I hate money." "Tut,"' said Leigh ; " come down to real facts, and money is the I^l eat colid good, after all. Now you are married you might as well drop all thit nonsense, and take things easy, and we'll get on very well. Seems to me you are very much of a child. You lack experience." He recognized something of her sweet, subtle fascination, but ha felt that though grown to ■woman's hfitrht, she wis only a child, sweet, but timid, l'esorved, passionless, as lilies are.