CHAPTER XXXVI.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 222, 1 October 1887, Page 6

CHAPTER XXXVI.

GERALDISE S APPEAL. Wo have been friends together ; Shall a light word part us now 1 ANON". When tho party turned to Icavo the vestry they weie confronted at tho door by the black giant, Goliah, from Greenwood, who still persistently, yet deprccatingly, held up the letter he brought. "Ah, yes, I will look at that now," said Gerald Fitzgerald, placing Gertrude in a chair, and then taking the letter from tho messenger's hand. The other individuals of the party seated themselves, while Colonel Fitzgerald, after asking permission, opened and read the letter. It was without date or signature, but it was from Greenwood, of course, and it was written by Geraldine, wildly, passionately; almost incoheiently : " Oh. Gerald, my own, come back to me, for the lovo of Heaven! I never meant to drive you from mo. I never meant to speak the wild, false, wickvd^fatal words that so outraged you i manhocd. It was not /, Gerald, but some dcvi! that had temporary possession ot me. Oh, you know that X could never havo spoken to j ou bo - never have driven you away from me on Iho eve of our wedding-day, for, oh, I love jou! I lovo you ! I love you, Gerald ! And you know it, I have loved you ever since I was a child of five years old, and jou a youth of glorious beauty, my childish ideal of all that \va divine in the image of the Creator— when your father told me that you were to he my husband, and you put the first littlo betrothal ring upon my finger and called me your o\\ n. " It was then that you took me ' for better, foi worse,' and in all my life I never even dreamed of such a thing as inconstancy f o you. For me there lived but one man on the face of the eai th —he was my betrothed husband, my king and my lord. "But, giving you my whole heart, I exacted I as much. As for me, no other man lives ; so ior you it fills me with madness to think that anj other w oman should exist. " Oh ! why did you sit beside Horatia Rowley 30 long yesterday evening, quoting Byron s poetry to her, allowing her to look into' jour eyes as she did, to speak to you in the tone she did, driving me mad with jealousy, opening mj spirit to the influx of the hells I \ "I havo tho Fitzgera ds' temper- oh! let me rather say, I have tho Fitzgeralds 1 famihni devil !— and when I grow jealous, that devil takes full possession of me. I am no longer in myself. It is not 1 who utter wild, false, v> lckerl fatal words. It is not I who drivo you with m suits from my presence— not I, oh Geiald ! but the devil that has obtained transient pos session of mo ; for when he has left me I could rend my hair and rend my clothes in utter selfabhorrenco and despair for all that he has made mo say and do ; for I love you, Gerald— 1 love you— and you know it ! And you lo\ cmc and /know it! You miy harden your heart agaiu-tme, you mayfly from mo to the uttermost parts of the earth, but you will carry with you the assurance that we lovo each other utterly— that wo s-hall love each other as long ns we t.oth shall live! "But if you leave mo I shall not live ! Oh, come back ! come back again to me, Gerald! and let us bo happy in each other once again ! I would promise— oh! I would gladly vownever to give way to such jealous fury again, but terrible oxperience has taught me that <uioh promises would bo vain; such vows would be broken I might as well promise never to have an ague again as never to havo an outbreak ot temper. 1 cannot help one no more than lean help the other. "But oh! Gerald you mado mo a promise which you con keep, if you will. It was on the day of your dear father's funoral, after had returned from laying his remains in the vault, when we were reconciled to each other, and I pleaded with you, and you promised me always to boar with my unhappy temper, sinco you knew that 1 lo* ed you through all. "That was your promise tome, Gerald, and it gave mn peace ; tor I aaid to myself, here is a spirit stronger and calmer than my own, who will never take me at my own wild words, but will let these paroxysms of passion pass as a storm passes, without harm to any but to her who mustalwajs suffer from shame and remorse when they are over. "Oh, keep your promise to me, Gerald Fitzgerald ! Keep your promise to mo, even though, m my jealous fury, I absolved you from it, and drove you from my presence. It was not Iw ho did it, for I love you, Gerald; it was the devil who controlled mo. "Oh, Goiald! that devil has left me now. Let him notentor you! I thought I saw that devil in your eyo for tho flrtt time vihen you loft me last night with these fatal words : "'Foit have, driven vie away once too of/en. Good-bye— for ever.' 41 But this cannot, mustnotbo so ! Oh, Gerald, nothing but tho demon could inspire jou with tho thought of a final, eternal parting with mo ! Oh, Gerald, do not lot that demon got pos«o«sion of you, for if he should obtain control over your stronm organisation, he will poad you to sxich deeds ot desperation, of fatality, compared to which my acts, bad as they are, will seem but child's play. Come back to me, Gerald I Come back to me, or I die. I cannot say that I wl' never be jealous of you again. My lovo i 3 a moss-roso full of thorns : but I will love you, and lovo you to all otei nity !" As Gerald Fitzgerald read thia reckless, impetuous, impussioned outpouring ot Geraldine's stormy soul, his face grew pale and paler until it faded to the hue of ashes,

his frame shook ami reeled until he leaned I his elbow upon thciaantel -piece near which ; he stood. As he continued to read his form-i drooped more and' more, his head bowed, lower and lower over, fche paper he held in t his shaking hand. Meanwhile the messenger and the sexton - gazed stolidly on. TH&y felt no particular ' interest in the letter. . Dr. Goodwin and tKe two girls watched the reader furtively, amdously. They kne vv well that the missive "'rfiich was wringing his heart came from Cfefcaldine and invitea him to his allegiance. They only pitied Gertrude, and wondered^yhat Gerald would do. And tbe poor, unloveil»ibridc ? Gertrude, sitting near 1 him, saw Fitzgerald's emotion, and knew that all this distress was caused by the letter he was reading, and that the letter must be a i peace-offeiing fiom Geraldine, come too late ! With true delicacy she turned her head away. She would not watch him in his present mood. Had she done right in giving herself to him ? Would her gift leally bring him peace and happiness ? She dared not dwell upon that question now. She had become his wife- in compliance with his will— that will which was now and henccfoitli her law. Was she sorry for what she had done ? No, no ! and a thousand times no ! for she loved without self-love, and such love never looks back with regret upon its offerings. Nevertheless, as she turned her eyes away from watching Fitzgerald's troubled countenance, all the innocent delight died out of heY .sweet face, and left it meek and . pensive as of old. Fitzgerald finished his letter, and laid it down on the mantel-shelf beside him. I^e lemaincd leaning on his elbow, lost in' thought, for a few minutes, and then with, an eifort, aroused himself, and said : "This letter requires an answer, Dr. Goodwin. I think you keep stationery here. Wood you kindly allow me to writeo a few lines at your table ?" " Ceitainly, Colonel," replied the rector,, as he drew out a drawer from the side of the table, took pen, ink and paper from ib, and laid them upon the top. Fitzgerald excused himself on the plea of necessity, drew a chair to the table, safe, down, and wi ote : " Old HhD Sandstoxe Church, Tuesday afternoon. " My De yk Cousin Gkraldine : I liavo juste received j our letter. I eannor come toiyou, as - you requested mo ; nor can I behe\ c, even if I hud the power to obey your call, Unit it would. be Y. 16C OV \\ C 1 tO do 60. "Expeiiencc has demonstrated that, strong as our attachment to each other lias lntlurto be< n, , \\ c cannot live in harmony together. Jso house would be large enough to con'a.n >ou. jourfamiliar demon, and myself. 1 have known tins lor some time ; yet again and again, when, I have witnebstd the power of lhat, demon 'ji'iilousy' over you, I have allowed sober judgment to be conquered by fission, and have returned to you. "Andnow, toplaceitforever beyond the power of passion t>o to o\er whelm judgment as taruin, both your life and mine, I have this hour rriised an impassable barrier belv eijn us. Ii ha\ c jtirst united inysclt in marriago to Gertiude Iladdon. to whom, Heaven helping me, I hope, to make a faithful husband. "X shall show this letter, and all future letters that may pass between you and me, to my young; wife; but, T hope that tew or none may be wiittezi; your own good sense will advjse youi that, under these circumst vices, all intercourse, whether personal or epistolary) should ceasebetwe n us. " And now, wishing you all the happiness-yotirr tcinperamont will peimit you to receive,, "I remain, your affectionate cousin, "Gerald Fitzgerald." He finished his letter, looked up for a-, moment, as if ho would luiao called his child-bride to him, and then lccollocting himself, and the respect due to, hor, he; took up the letter, aro.se, and went to her side. She raised her head, and then, he saw that all the light of gladness had diod out, of her pale, patient little face,, and hej knew the cau^e. He placed the letter in her hand, saying, gently, in a low tone : " Before I send this letter off I wish you to read it, Gertrude. There must be no» seciets between us, my child." She looked gratefully up to his taee — that face which was as the sun of light and. life to her, and then she chopped her eyes, to the paper and read his farewell words to* Geialdme. When she had finibbed reading; she returned the letter to his hands and sighed. "I wil! try to make you happy, sweet girl," he whispered, in response to her sigh. " Oh, that I could only make you so,,'* she breathed, her whole soul's devotion in her tone. " Yon will sure to do so, my little clove," ho answ ered, as he returned to the table and placed Geraldine's letter and his own in one envelope and scaled and superscribed it to Miss Fitzgerald. " Take this to your young mistress at Greenwood, and t^ko this in consideration of your long ride," said Colonel Fitzgerald, as he placed the letter and a small sum of money in the hands of the gigantic messenger. '• Thanky', Marse Colonel, thanky' worry much, indeed, par ; which I has had sich a wild-goose chase arter you, a? never was. Fus' fing, airly dis mornin,' Miss Gerline had me rousted out'n bed and sent off 'doufa my bre"\kfas' to cairy dat letter to you, sar, at dc Summit, which I 'mcd here 'bout ten o'clock, and was tole how our honor had done rid pos' haste tn T1 /.u\ille. And I starve near todeaf ait; < my long lide without my breakfas', and didn't oben dare to stop to get any defreshments fiom Aunt Hetty, 'cau^o Miss Gerline had give me strict orders not to stop nowhere till 1 had 'livered dc letter into your honor's own hands. And when I got to Wildevillc it was about leben o'clock, and dcie dcy tole me how you had gone to tho 010 Red Sandstone Church, and had left orders at de Wildville Hotel for de coach to follow you on here immeiated. And I jes' snatch a loaf ot biead from de shop, and hcv a flippenny bit of pay for it, and come on here as hard as I could, to fetch dc letter, which, much it misgives mo, come too late ; but it was no fau't o' mine, Marse Colonel," concluded the giant. "The letter camo in very good time, I assure you. But you spoke cf the carriage I oulcred. Has it come, do you know ?" "Yes, Marse Colonel; it" got here mos' soon as I did. Fact is, it lcf Wildewille 'fore 1 did. it's at de door." ' ' Very well, then. You had better return at once to Greenwood with my answer to your mistress's letter," said Colonel Fitzgerald. The giant bowed himself out. When he had gone, Gerald Fitzgerald turned to his bride, saying : " Come, Gertrude, bid your friends goodbye. We must try to catch tho five o'clock stogc-eoach from Wildeville." " Will you take her away immediately ?" inquired Dr. Goodwin. "Immediately. That is the law of etiquette, 1 believe, at> weddings, when. theie are no cards and no reception," said Colonel Fitzgerald. " And no breakfast, and no bride's cake, and no trousseau, and no presents, and no love, and no nothing !" added Patricia Fitzgerald, in a whisper to May Faire. "You will please to have Mis Fitzgerald's effects forwarded to Fuller's Hotel, Washington city, reverend sir," said Colonel Fitzgerald. "You will remain in Washington city for some little time ?" inquired Vv, Good* ' win t *

* c P-harcl -\ know. Much will depeoacl on taay little; lady's wishes, and she has not ha& time it o form any yet. We may go abroad. j a W&: will write and let you ksatsw, sir/ "Oh^Fitzgerald ! be good to my child !" exclaimed the rector. " I {shall be loyal to my wife," answered the biSdogioom, earnestly. " Yes, lam sure you will. Heaven bless you, my^'dear Gertiudc, and make your inairiod .'l^e as happy as it deserves to be!" exclaimed Dr. Goodwin, a^ he laid his hands in benediction upon the young bride's hoad. She pressed tthose venerable hands to her heart, and silently bade her old friend adieu. She kisstd Patricia and May, and then turned to her husband, who had already bidden fai^well to the party. Colonel Fit/genCd drew her arm within his] own, and led her out to the carriage which wat waiting at the church door. The minister, the two girls, and the sexton walked out to ccc them oil*. Gerald Fitzgerald put her into the earxiage, entered and p'';v3cd himself by her side, and ga\e the signal to the coachman, who immediately starlwj his hotses and drove away. " ' Sho has Rone to sea i<* a eiove, she lins ! In a sieve she hns cone to ?ea • In spite of all her friends: could say. On 11 stormy mom of a \\ inioi s day, She hns cone to sea in a sieve,' " sanjr Pat Fitzgerald, gazing after the carnage. *' Oh, yes, I know, v " «he added ; "you will tell me that this id a golden afternoon ia glorious autumn, ar.d that <\\e has gone to thb city in a coach. But ' she ha? gone to the &ea in a &ieve,' toy all that.""'

{To hi. coiitiiuied.)