CHAPTER XVIII. NOW I SEE AND AM SURE OF MY REVENGE.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 184, 25 December 1886, Page 7

CHAPTER XVIII. NOW I SEE AND AM SURE OF MY REVENGE.

Morning in Berne, the first Swiss town where Lord Leigh and Violet have tarried. Afar off gleams the hoary head of Mount Blanc; Monte Rosa, in a veil of pink light, blooms against the blue sky like some great, glorious flower. Near by, the Juntrran in her bridal white, gits aereue and

sweet, while all tbe glaciers gleam Hx * lakes in gardens of the gods. Lord Leigh is pacing up and down the breakfast-room, and on a side table lie the letters which he has just opened. The hour which he has waited for, married for, has come. That pile of busi ness and legal envelopes represents the re moval of that hideous load of debt and mortgage that was dragging him down and threatening to wreck hia respectability, and bring on with him that public contumely, the one thing that he dreads. Tho settlements made at his marriage are now assured The share of Violet's fortune which he had bargained for in ready money- half a million of pounds secured by flower on the Leigh estates — has been paid him. and his debts are eettlod, and sixty thousand pounds are in tho hands of his steward, to meet the improvements on his estate and on I.eigh Towers ; and for the first time for several years Norman Leigh is a free man, and not in the hands of the usurers, nor obliged to find hush money. Looking f-aok, he wonders) a little that ho has been able to keep his affairs yo quiof, and that Mr A inslie accepted him so readily as suitor to the heire«s. Great titles of ton cover great iniquities. To his own surprise, this man, who livos only on excitement of a sharp order, reliovod from the excitement of impending ruin, is even now panting after "tho hole of the pit whence ho was digged,' 1 and the cup of Circo which hia hcrotoforo made him " o bemet and no man ;' he is reproducing m hif> turbid eoul the parable of " the sow that was washed.' A door swings open, and through it comes Violot. The flush of wild roees is on hor cheeks, and light lies tremulous in her riowy brown oyes. The def b K/ite has arrayed her in a tucked mull drees, with round, full waist, and blue sash tied m a groat bow behind, like a child. Fresh, simple, health ful, sweot, she enters, and faces the restlessLeigh. " Have you seen tho mountains, Norman ? I have boon on the balcony watching them. Tho far-ott" ranges are all pink, and gold, and purplo. The glaciers aie like silver iakw." " I'm doad sick of mountains. I'm sick of everything." "You have been sitting up too late. You make yourself nervous smoking so con stantly and d. inking brandy and water, '" sayH Violet, verged by thin time in ttio manners of hei lord, and contrasting them with the early hours, tho one glass of wine after dinner, and the single evening cigir, indulged in by the banker prince, her uncle. Lord Leigh shrugged his shoulders, gathered the letters into his pocket, and drank a cup of tea strong as lye. Violet noticed his excited eyos, hiB feverish man ner. " You will feel better for being out in the air," ehe eaid. " Let us walk or ride about here all day long Let us keep quiet hour?, and have plain, regular meals, and be like tho country people. I like that life be?t We cannot tire of going about horo. It in juafc like Martin's picture of tho Plains of Heaven. "Twenty-four hours of this would kill me. I must make a pfcart," said jLorJ Leigh, swallowing tea with brandy in it. Violet viewed the decoction with disgust, and cried out: "Oh, Norman, must we go before I have seen anything ?" " You needn't no I'll be back in a week. I muot givo mvt-elf a little dip in life without you. I don't think I was made for a family man." " What ' leave me here all alone?" cried Violet, in dismay. " You have four or five servants, and thete are English people about. You can't expect me always to be tied to you, Violet. She recalled that they had been married less than a month. "And Koith is coming — he'll go about with you." Violet's lips quiverod as she considered that Keith's coming would be as much pain as joy, and more peril than comfort. " Where are you going?" she asked tremulously. "To Homburg." Violet had no idea what might lie wrapped up in the word Homburg. She mentally reviewed her geography, and told herself that Homburg was not so very far off. After all what difference did it mako ? She really had no loving shelter in him, and she must learn to protect herself, to be strong in herself, as she had no one to loan on. Thus it happened that within a month from her ill-omened wedding-day Violet was left alone in the little town of Berne. She spent two days reading novels on the balcony, or walking about the small Swiss city in guardianship of Kate, her maid, amusing herself in the unexciting methods of feeding Berne's tutelar b ars, and giving coin to sturdy Swiss children. The third day Violet, with a book, and Kate, with a roll of fancy work, set ofT to spend the morning in a little wooded plateau, where through the openings in tho trees the Bernese overland lay revealed in all its serene splendours. In the lush grass of this plateau lay couching, like a young lion, a youthful Saxon, large of limb, and frank of heart, lying with his yellow curled head on his be>nt arm, his eyes on the diatance, his thougnts with the woman he had loved and lost. Across the line of this dreamer'B vision moved, cutting off with her small, piquant figure a view of tho Finsteraarhorn, a slender creature, with brown hair ruffling about her sweet, Bhining eyes — a dainty vision which this young man thought should go like the gods, marching on rosy clouds, with little lores and holy graces, rejoiced to be bearers of her train. But, in her short nuns' veiling walkingdress, and unsupported by any being more ethereal or reliable than hor maid Kato, Kenneth Keith's goddess moves on, and he perforce rises up to do her homage, which act he performs coldly enough, having his manners, if not his heart, well in hand. Kate throws upon tho grass her lady's shawl, and retires to a convenient distance to embroider a hand-bag to be added to the endless number now in her mistress's oossesaion "I called at the hotel," says Kenneth, { "and they said Lord Leigh had gone away. I did not expect to see you here." "He did not take me ; he said he would come back in a few days ; and it is too stupid to stay in my room.3 at the hotel all the time, even with the mountains to look at. Do you think it is wrong for me to go out with only Kate ? I have no one here to ask. Will you tell me what is proper ?" " Oh, certainly it is proper ; only itwould be better if you had your aunt or some lady friend with you," Violet's little head, with its plenitude of ducky locks, sink low ; ehe is easily enubbed in regard to the proprieties of life, which Mrs Ainelie has made a bugbear to her. fa " I used to think a governess a hateful nuisance," she says, ingenuously; "but I wish I had one now ; it is really comfortable to have some one who knows always what is to be done. I think it is nicer to go right than to have one's way." "Your way is cure to be right," says Kenneth ; and he added with rising w rath : 4 A young bride should not be reduced t/» need either governess or companion; vide" b ° h6r 00M P an ' i(m aruJ Violet lif to up two sudern, teavful eyes,

J liko great dark jewels Been flashing through I running water. "1 shall never have that," she says, 'reously.^ Do you think I had bettor get '" impanion—some 'lady in reduced ciretanfc a8 the advQrtiaoments read?" ,( y 0 '* will need none when you gob to L»ich To wo.ra- ou will^be at home then, atuf have X "'. on{* 3 about you. How aoon are y °" I °do not 1c now% ot tl^ orman comes bade. Tell me . wh**, to ccc here- Whore can Igo with Katv x" , , „ , "Leigh asked mo /o look after you, anrl I will," said Keith, wk h sudden r .f olutlon > "that is it you will alios v mc ' , lltt, ye i\ 7°m soon Heller'a carving hw*. utaolory > Will you walk with me to seethe B"nFeb °? !! n ° Eugo, and f latfcerforme ? V hen.. Le 'f come*, ho can make excursions wifcli you. Wh.ir book have you V" We thinks reading will bo far mox^ c s than looking into the humid eyes, . anti watching the pathetic mouth, and t»6v *' how easy for them to atray into dangerous topics. ] Sho hold out tho littlo volume —gquare, in whilo and gold. Alas, in was " Lockaley Hall i" Kennoth Keith had not read if for year?, not, since the first days when he thought Violot had forsaken him. IJe had forgotten how ci uelly tho poem v.onld paint, their fate Could his tone fail to ring home as he road : Oli, my cousin, slinlloiv-licartecl! Oh, jnyA'iij, mine no more! Tie did not, see how Violot's bosom us?, us Amy'p, "thaken with a sudden storm of eigh^." Rut whon ho read — "Is it w«ll to \vi<ih thee huppy ? having me to dec'ino On a rangt) of lower foollni?, and a narrower heart than mine 7' he shut the book —he could go no Lirtbor. Jrio sprang up. " Lot ua not read. I will make you a (Lii^y chain, as if we were children, and 1 will ting you a song that boatmen sing along tho Wilo; tho harsh Egyptian A\zi! bo better than thi& Tennysonjan niel'idy." Meanwhile a woman who was sketching, f-eatod some distance from them beneath n biech treo, kept looking at them from undur lier wide hat, and a bia/e of tiiumph dawned on the proud, haiujsomo faco of Helen Hnpo as sho haid to het-elf :* "Now I sco, and am <-Ure of my revengo '" (To he Continued) |