CHAPTER XXXIV.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 221, 24 September 1887, Page 6

CHAPTER XXXIV.

AT THE RECTORY. Ancrels have fallen ere her time bj' prido, That sole ullov of her most lovely mould. The evil spirit of a bitter mood And a revengeful heart had power upon him That verj hour, when passion, turn'd to wraih, Made his whole soul a chaos -in that hour The tempter found him.

BULWER LYTTON. Tin; old Red Sandstone Church and Rectory stood bide by side, both being perched upon the top ot Wild Cat Cliff, overhanging" the river, and overlooking; the opposite mountain of Eagle Roost Ridge. The old Red Sandstone Church was a picturesque edifice of the Gothic order of architecture, so completely overgrown with ivy that nothing of its exterior could be seen but the old oak door and stained glass window, from which the encroachin<r creeper had annually to be trimmed away. The church wa«i surrounded by an old burial ground , who«;e white tombstones gleamed amid the shadows of thicklyclustering evergreen. The old Red Sandstone Rectory, standing on the south side of the church, was a quaint, cosy dwelling-place, with dark, ruddy walls, overgrown, lihe those of the church, withnvy; narrow, Gothic, windows, ovcrshaded by creeping vines ; high-peaked roof, and tall, slender chimneys, in many of which the house-swallows built their nests and enjoyed their home in undisturbed repose. The house was surrounded by an old neglected garden of fruit-trees and bushes, flowering shrubs, flowers and herbs. The day after Gertrude's arrival was spent pleasantly rambling about this attractive spot, in the o\ening Gertrude read aloud to the rector. Gertrude opened the book and began to vend aloud, while- the old man sank back in his chair, and so live evening passed happily with both, until ton o'clock, when the agod pastor told Gertrude to close her book, as that was tho habitual hour for worship nt tho rectory. A chapter in the Bible was read, the ovoning prayers were offered up, and then tho family circle separated. Gertrude bade her guardian good-night, and went up to her " chamber of peace." She awoke about sunrise, and she immediately aiosc and dressed, for she knew that they kept early hours at the rectory. She did not meet her guardianaftor breakfast until she met him at the dinner-table. There was a troubled look in tho doctor's eye as he took his seat and said : " I am very much troubled about Gerald Fitzgerald's love affairs." Gertrude's heart almost ceased its pulsations as she listened. "If ever a 'course of true love' dashed itself over interminable falls and impracticable rapids, without any prospect of ever reaching a smooth, clear passage, it is his course !" Gertrude's faco paled and flushod and paled again ; but she made no comment. Tho doctor continued : " While you were in the drawing-room I received a note from Royal Greenleaf sent by a special messenger, and asking mo to como and mediate botween the estranged couple ; for the marriage is broken off again."

" Broken off agaij* !" echoed K3<btfrttdbj,in a low and faltering tone. "Yes, broken off again. T might -as-well speak plainly, to yotf, my HtfrlQ' Gerbfcude, for I know the reason why you'left'Greenleaf's, and 1 commend the delicaoy/ and dignity of your action in that matter*; .bub no sooner had you left than Miss Fibzgerald chose to construe your, voluntai'y.-depaebure into an act of submission on the part ofrher white slave,' Gerald Fitzgerald* So<>she sent for him, and, when ho obeyed i her summons she magnanimously forgave^hira for all the wrongs and insults ' she had heaped on his head." " Bub, sinco they were reconciled, how does it happen that the marriage is again 1 broken oil"? whispered Gertrude, scarcely above her breath. " The witch, Patricia* seems to bo at the bottom of the business now ! She has made all the trouble ! She has the fault of 1 familiarity ! She is as thoughtless as she is -in-> nocent ! She has been making too free. with her handsome cousin, who has the misfortune to bo Geraldine's betrothed, and Geraldine has again flung her engagement ring into the face of her affianced lover, .and ordered him to leave her presence forever." " Oh, Dr Goodwin !" breathed Gertrude, in a tone of grief and humiliation as deep as if the wiong and shame had been her own. "Yes, my love, it is so. If only Fitzgerald would have the manhood to take the jealous fury at her word, and keep away from hor for ever ! I know, how it will all end." " But, dear Dr. Goodwin, what can you do in the premises ? You are both wise and good What win you do to make a permanent peace between these two ?" softly inquired Gertrude. "To make a permanent peace between them ? Nothing on earth, except to separate them for ever. I would do that if 1 could, and it would bo the kindest act I could perform for them both, if it were practicable ; but I am afraid it is not." "What then, will you do?" again inquired Gertrude, with an interest she could not repress. " Since I cannot do the only wise thing to bo done, and to separate them for ever before they commit the suicidal crime of marriage, I will do nothing — ceitainly nothing to reconcile them to each other again. " " But — please forgive me, Dr. Goodwin — are we not taught ' Blessed are the peacemakers ?' "' whispered Gertrude — &he could scarcely speak above a whisper. "Yes, my dear,' 1 said the good doctor, reverently bending his head; "but to bring this incompatible young couple together in marriage would not be to make any real and permanent peace, but to make endless war. The marriage ought never to take place. If they separate now with tho understanding that the separation is to be a lasting one, they will, in time, forgive each other and be very good friends ; but if they marry, I am sure that their marriage will not secure tho happiness of Geraldine, and that it will assuredly ruin the life of Fitzgerald. I have written to Roj al Greenleaf and expressed these sentiments a** a reason why I decline to intorfere. Nevertheless, my dear girl, I feel very anxious about the mad young pair, or rather about Fitzgerald, who is so madly, fatally in love with this young fury." " I hope he will not humble himself again to Miss Fitzgerald," murmured Gertrude, involuntarily, almoat inaudibly, but very earnestly, for she felt the humiliation of her hero more deeply than if it had been her own. " Many a man since Marc Antony's time has lost the whole world for a woman, and I greatly fear — " What he greatly feared was never uttered, for the sound of girlish voices, with laughter and exclamations of surprise and delight, acccompaniccl by the pattering of many light steps, were heard in the hall without, and were instantly followed by the opening of the door, and the tumultuous entrance of Patricia Fitzgerald and her school friend, May Faire. Dr. Goodwin lepres&ed his great astonishment at their unexpected visit, and arose with old-fashioned courtesy to welcome them. " Just in time, and hungry as a hound !" exclaimed Patricia, taking off her cap, tossing it to the other end of the room, and drawing up a chair, seating herself at tho table, saying, as a parenthesis : " How do you do, Dr. Goodwin ? How are you, Gertrude ? Surprised to see us here, are you not 1 Bless you, / am scut from Greenwood in disgrace for flirting with Cousin Fitzgerald ! I only did it to tease Geraldine, aud punish her for treating you so abominably, Gertrude. Bub lam sorry for Gerald. How could he help it if I would make love to him ? But— Lord help us ! — Geraldino didn't go for me, who well deserved hor anger. She went for Gerald, m-lio was not to blame. And didn't she give him fits ! Whip your horses ! But here, I am talking at random, instead of delivering over mammy's letter," concluded Pat, as she drew a note from her pocket and handed 1 it to Dr. Goodwin. The worthy doctor, who had in the meantime welcomed May Faire, and handed her a chair, now took tho letter with a bow ;. bub before he opened it he rang the beli h and gave to Boykius, who answered it, the order : "Get plates for these two youiig ladies, who have not yet dined." As the servant left to obey "blfee order, the doctor opened hi<* letter. It. proved to be from Mrs Doy Fitzgerald,, and it ran as follows :

Greknwood, Thursday. My Diun Dr. Good.win :— I take a liberty with you to-day that I should! scarcely tlaro to tako with any other f riend. I send you, with out pre\ious warning, I, wo young girls, as visitors to your ward, and as trespassers on your hospitality. Will you paruon this unwarrantable intrusion, and take oaro of the children until after Tuesday nev:t. which is the third day that has been set'for the marriage of the colonel and Miss Fitzgerald, and which I pray Heaven in \y pass o(F -without a catastrophe. I understand that my brother wrote to you this morning. His letter will,. 'perhaps, prepares you'to compiohcnd the situation. You see- I send off Patricia in expiation of what has been, done, and send May Fair© with her in apprehension of what may happen. Patricia will explain further, if you have' any questions to ask. You need not mind talking betore ' May Faire ;' she knows all about it. Gpraldine's reck ess violence of temper has inado herself and hor jealousy a by-word in the family. On Tuesday noKt, then, please the fates, wo will marry off our young lirebrand ; and when sho ia safely married and awar, T shall feel as if a vory dan«oroi s bomb-shell were removed from the promises. * Eyer your friend,

Dorothty Fitzgerald. While the good doctor rend and re read this letter, Boykina had placed plates, knivos, forks, .spoons, napkins, and all else that was needed for the new-comers upon the table, and Gerdrude herself had set a chair for May Fairo, and invited her to take it. Patricia, as wo have seen, was already seated at the table, self-invited. " It seems," said Dr. Goodwin, folding up his letter, returning it to his pocket, j and resuming his seat at the table, ''it seems by this note from Mrs Fitzgerald that the colonel and Miss Goraldine are again reconciled." " Oh, no, bless you !" exclaimed Patj who wag busy as a drumstick ; v ' bless you, no. But raaminv says she feels sure that , Gerry will send for Fitz and pardon him, once moro, now that I am slain and offered up as a burnt sacrifice to her jealousy."

" Hum !" said thijcdoeftcsr,, chyly, as h , necommenced' his infeamupfced <li»ncr. | " Yon see," con-tinned febe irrepresaibler 'Fafc, " how it was that I was* aent avray,: •and 'now whafc do yau-bhink was tlie reason !wby May Faire \va»^esnt with me? Give 'life up? Woll, Pll-tdULyou. At breakfast ones morning, she dropped lier fork— (She's Ibhe-awkwardest lifctltfvw-retch on. the- face of jtlioi earth). So she dropped hear fork, and jFifca; instead of waiting 1 for a servant to do this, duty, immediately/ arose, picked up |that/ diabolical and mischief- making 1 implement and gave it to her with, a smile and a jbow." , " A simple and natural act of politeness kluo from any gentleman to- any lady/ said tho 'old-fashioned doctor. ' " Yes, I know ; but mammy thought ib ju-st'fifi well not to hav^-it encored. So she sowt-May into exile with me,." said Pat, as she pushed her plate away, and leaned back in her chaii, as a sign that. she hod finished her dianor, and thought it.aboui time that her young" companions had done the same. A* few moments latez^, the- whole party arose from the table and. adjourned to the drawing-room, where the good ctocbor begged them to feel quite 1 at home, amuse themselves as they liked, and excuse him, as lie had to go out and make somejparochhil calls. In the course of the evening Baby Boykins wifch the freedom and cordiality of a faithful; and esteemed old family servant, came insfco the drawing-room, to express her delight in seeing the ypung. lady visitors, , which made the whole house look like living again, as she described it. Later in the evening the old wcrm&n , c how©c! her appreciation of their presence in a more substantial way, by getting them a most excellent tea, with plenty, of such cakes and sweetmeats as children- and young girls dote on. The evening was finished- wifch family prayers.. Then Baby Boy kins, wifch renewed delight, showed , the two young; guests to a very nice double bedded chamber oppo&ifce to the zoom, occupied! by Gertrud ». The interval between tUah Thursday and the Tuesday of the expected wedding was passed very pleasantly by every inmate of the rectory except. Gei'trude,, whose whole ssul, absorbed in one fatal love, 1 could iiad no room for the- simple' enjoyment? that made others happy. On the Friday afternoon Royal Greenleaf cam* over, radiant with happiness and , reporting " all serene" at Greenwood- 'As Mrs Doy had predicted, when Pat had been sent away from the house, Geraldine despatched a ifag of truce to Gerald, summoning him to a conference. He had come, like a tiue knight, at his Lidy's calL She gracious^ pardoned him again. They were now reconciled once more, and the marriage? was ceitainly to come off on Tuesday morning. Royal Gr^enleaf himself had come. over to announce this joyful news, and to bring affectionate greetings from all concerned, even from GcraklLne herself, who was now in the most radiant and condescending mood, and had sent cordial notes to the dontor and lo his bhiee young latly guests, supplementing Mifas Sue Greenleafs formal invitation to them to> be present at the quito -wedding on Tuesdry. Mrs Boy Fitzgeralol had also written, baying- that she felt feuro May Faire would not distress her friends by absenting herself from Greenwood on such, an occasion, and begging that Patricia and Gertrude w.ouM ignore all unpleasantness, and honour the nuptials* of the heiress with their presence, and so promote family haunony. At first,, the three young girls declared that, they would not go to the colonel and Misn Fitzgerald's wedding. Fat swore she I would sco, both Fitz- ami Gerry pickled before she would demean herself by going ; ! May Faire said that she should like very much to go, but shouJd not think of doing iso without the company of her friend Patiicia; Gertrude said nothing until I pressed for an opinion, when she declared that she nover had thought of going, under any circumstances whatever. But what young girl's dignified resolution can hold out against tho attraction of a wedding to v, Inch she ife cordially invited ? On Saturday afternoon Pat began to say that, after all, she should like to see how the bride would look, and hear what the bridegroom would say, and that, indeed, it would be a great pity to disappoint May Faiie, who had come all the way from Cave Court to be present at the wedding, and who could not go without Patricia. In a word,, Patricia decided to pocket her pride and go to the wedding, and May Faire joyfully jumped to accompany her. ; And Gettrudo !Ah ! Heaven only knovys ,'what wild, mad hopes h.\cl smouldered in the depths ofr her heart during thosB days, when Gerald and Geraldine were continually off and on, on and oif, upon the marriage question ; when everyone disapproved the marriage, and predicted that it would finally be broken for ever, as it ought to be for the best interests of all concerned. Did she, almost unconsciously, hope that when the ill-omened engagement should be finally and for ever annulled between the ill-matched pair— after years should have posted, perhaps— that Gerald Fitzgerald, being free, might possibly— possibly — look on her and lo\ c her ? The very thought would have caught away her breath for io , . Her idea of heavenly delight wa- to „<i loved by Gerald Fitzgerald, and to lno with him for ever ; to have the privilege of bMng always near him. to see him, to hear him, to wait on him, to work for him, to suffer for him ; for no toil, no suffering endured for him, but would have been transmuted by the power of love into heavenly joy. How could his, betrothed bride behave to him as Geraldine* had clone ? To Gertrude's worshipping heart* such conduct seemed the most grievous rebellion, the most awful blasphemy and sacrilege, and she wondered equally at trteinsanity of tho woman and the majestic patienco of the man. She wondered and she worshipped, bowing down her whole soul before him. Nor was this any cbrna of idolatry in that young heart. Yes, Gertrude'?* love was pure from earthly stain ; but, ah, it was not froo from earthly pain ! As the fatal wedding-day drew near, the thought of Fitzgerald's marriage with Geraldine grew more and I more agonising and insufferable ( It was not only that this marriage must forbid her ever to think of him as she had thought, and must compel her to maintain a cruel struggle in her own heart to eject his memory ; it was nob,, either, that this marriage would separate him utterly from her, whose whole so-wl was filled with adoration oi him, and who felt in some ocGiilt way, by inspiration o>r intuition, that she belonged to him foy over, and could never, in all eternity, bolong to anyone else ! It was not all this only that overwhelmed her with despair ; it wa3 the conviction she felt that this marriage with the beautiful but jealous fury must desolate his lifo ! j Gertrude could think of nothing but the impending m.an v iage» and could not reconcile herself ' to tho thought. She could nobsleep, she could nob eat. She lost flesh and strength daily, and grew pale and thin ; and the meek, dark eyes seemed heavier and sadder than before. She had decidod not to go to the wedding ; but on the Monday night preceding the appointed day, as she lay feverish and sleepless upon her bed, aomebimsg tossing

restlessly from Bide to side, r6ometimes fazing out through the uncurtained winow at the foot of her bedstead— rout upon the gleaming headstones in the aid joining church -yard, sometimes folding her hands, closing her eyes, and praying earnestly for Gerald Fitzgerald that he might be preserved from all evil, and for hexself that ehe might have strength to bear her henceforth lonely life and grace to- do flier duty in it, suddenly a wild desire took possession of her &oul— a desire to see (him only once more, to hear his voice, to vncet his gaze, to clasp his hand, and then — since it must be so — to see him no more .©n 'earth. Then she resolved to go to the wedding to see him again and for the last tamo, if only to see him in the act of plighting his troth to Geraldinc, to bind him to Jior for ever. Gertrude arose early to prepare for the wedding. It was a glorious day in September ; the bluo sky was without a <cloud, the gieen earth without a faded leaf, the bright waters untroubled by a ripple. .Gertrude was wearing mourning for bar grandfather, but on this occasion she left it i off, and put on a pure white organdie dress, j ■wixih rote- coloured ribbons on her bo&om, j at .her wrists, and in her brown hair. ' When she was dressed she went and ', tapped at the door of Patiicia sroom, which ' •was opposite to hers, across the hall. Fat came, half dicssed, to open the door. "I aha 11 go with you to Greenwood today," she said. " Sensible fellow ! I thought you would, j Tfow* go ibwn- that's a brick and hurry Babby B^nkins with the breakfast. We must be <G>lf in half an hour, sharp," said Patricia, abruptly closing the door. Gertiude went down, but found no occasion to hurry Babby. The breakfast was ready find waiting. The large carriage fioni U}-eenwood had als-o arrived, and was waiting to convey the wedding guests to the ssuuo place. Dr. Goodwin, in his Vest Sunday suit, was walking impatiently up and dow n the terrace in front of the house, cagei* as a boy to be oil to the wedding. In iruth, Fat and May were the only laggards. But they soon came hmrying downstair*, dressed for the marriage festival — Pat in a pink organdie, and Ma} r in a blue bercgo. Babby Boykins quickly put tho breakast upon the (able, and the young; party gathered around it. Dr. Goodwin said grace, and they all fell to, and ate rather too fast, I feu, for the good of their digestion. The hurried breakfast over, the young people flew upstairs to put on their bonnets, but they did not hurry over (hnt busmen. Everybody knows how long it takes to put on a bonnet. Gertrude, however, soon tied on her little chip hat ay ith its straw trimming, took a white Paisley shawl o\cr her arm, and went downstahs. As she passed the upper hall window she caught a glimpse of a black horse and his rider thundering down the mountain load leading to the rectoiy. The horse was in a foam, his black flanks bespattered with white tlakes. The rider's form teemed familiar, and the glimpse of it sent an electric thrill through the frame of Gcitnule. She went trembling down the stairs and entered the parlour, and sat down to wait, expecting, fearing — she knew not what. The pailour wa*> deseited. She had scarcely percei\ed this and seated herself, when she heard tho house-door thrown hastily open, huriied footsteps enter the hall, and quick, peremptory tones demand " L Miss Haddon hero ? And -" " Yes, bii-," from the voice ot Boykins. " In what part of tho house ':" " In the parlour, &ir." "Alone?' " Yess, sir. Shall I show you in ?" " No, I can find my way there." Gertrude heard all this ; and while her heart seemed to stop in its pulsations, the door was thrown open and Gerald Fitzgerald strode into the room. He wore his wed-ding-dress, the conventional full drcso of a gentleman of this age ; hut his face was deadly pale and grim ; his lips were so tirmly closed under his dark moustache that his chin seemed to protrude ; his dark, deep-set eyes gleamed like stilletto points ; his whole manner showed strong emotion forcibly repressed. Without any ordinary greeting he stepped at once to the side of Gertrude, and taking her hand, and gazing into her soft eyes, said, hurriedly : "Child ! if you should see me on the brink of a precipice, and this little hand could save me, would you be afraid bo hold it out to me ?" "No, no!" cried Gertrude, thrilled through every nerve and libre of her frame, carried beyond hezself, and never moving her meek, brown eyes from the steady gaze of those eager, strong., dark orbs that held them fast. " IVould you hold out your hand to save me V " Yes ! yes ! I would !" " But if I should pull you down ?" " I could perish with you !" " Gertrude ! I am on the brink of hell ! You can save me, if you dare to do it !" "I will ! I will ! Oh, tell me how ?" " Be my wife within an hour !" (To be continued.)