CHAPTER XV. MRS LIFFEY'S SISTER.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 315, 10 November 1888, Page 4

CHAPTER XV. MRS LIFFEY'S SISTER.

Mes Liffey, Michael Kildarc'? grim and elderly housekeeper, sof bly opened the front door of her employer's, dwelling, and passed out upon the steps. The night was pleasant, with mild air and starlight. In the semi-gloom, the ea which the woman had engaged was standing by the kerbstone. The cabman was in the act of alighting, to announce his arrival. Mrs Li Bey ordered the man to take out the Ladj' Nora's box, which he hastened to do. While he was thus engaged, Lord Kiidare and the lawyer hurried out their captive, keeping a close hold upon her, to prevent any attempt at escape, and put her into the cab. Both followed her into the vehicle, keeping a tight grasp upon her arms. It was well for them that they were thus watchful. The Lady Nora's big brown eyes were bright and keen, and on the lookout for any chance for flight, and her lithe slender figure, with nerves like steel, was ready to spring in any direction at the proper moment. Mrs Liffey secured the house door, and oame back to the cab, as the driver was mounting his box. She gave him the order in a low tone, and entered the vehicle, closing the door securely behind her. The vehicle then bowled rapidly down the street. The youngr Lady Nora secretly marked their route. They proceeded to the southward and westward, crossed the river Liffey, traversed the south-western portion of the city, crossed the Circular Koad, and once out of the town, sped along yet more rapidly. The Lady N"ora secretly noted all the landmarks by the way with a view to her escape and return to Dublin on foot. ' We are on the road to Clondalkin,' she thought 1 . ' That is Drinnagh Castle to the right. I have been out here before, and can easily find my way back to Dublin. Here is where the two roads cross. We are going to Clondalkin, and how much further I cannot guess.' The question was soon decided. The cab came to a halt in the outskirt of , the village of Clondalkin, before a small, plain, red brick cottage, which stood in the niidsi) of a garden. A row of tall, funereal y6w-trees stood within the palings of the tall fence, screening the cottage from more than casual glances. The garden was ample, shut in by high palings on every side and by yew-trees, and was not overlooked at an\ point by neighbouring houses. This gloomy, lonely place had been christened Yew Cottage, and was the property of Mrs Liffey — her husband's leg.'tcy to her. It was usually let at a remunerative rate, but, as Mr Kildars's housekeeper had said, it was now vacant through the failure of its late tenant to meet his engagements. Mrs Liffey descended from the cab and approached the high garden gate. It was not locked, and she flung it open, holding it ajar while Lord Kiidare and the lawyer assisted their captive to the ground. V You can wait, 5 said Michael Kiidare, addressing the cabman. • There s a sixpence, 5 he added, tossing him a silver coin. ' No\doubt you'll find a public house open someVvhei-e in the neighbourhood. You can- look for one and treat yourself, as soon a>§ you have fetched in the young lady's - 'oox. We shall probably be inside about fifteen minutes.' Tightening his hold on the Lady Nora's arm, the 'lawyer hurried hsr within the grounds of Yew Cottage. Mrs Lifley preceded the captive and captors up the lonely, dismal walk, and mounted the low stone .steps, sounding the heavy brass knocker with emphasis. Presently, just as Lord Kiidare and the lawyer, with the Lady Nora between them, also mounted the steps, an upper window _wa? qauciously raised, and a night-capped head protruded itself, and a hoarse voice asked, in trembling, gasping tones : • Who's there ? What are ye wanting at this hour o' the night? I'll ca'l the police ! I'll—' • Whist now !' said Mrs Liffey, in a low warning voice. v Have you lost all your wits, Catherine? It's I — your sister, Margaret Litfey. Come down and let us in like a decent Chi'istian woman, and don't be rousing the neighbours with your foolish palaver in ir. ' ' Mrs Liffey's sister gave a great gasp of astonishment, and promptly slammed the window shut. The cabman came up with the trunk, ~ v and -deposited it on the gravel-walk. Then he hastened in quest of a public house, as he had been recommended. He was scarcely gone when steps were hoard within the cottage, and the door was opened from within by Mrs Liffey's sister, who had hastily attired herself. •"My sister, Mrs Fogarty,' announced Mrs Liffey. ' Catherine, I've brought you Impany. This young lady is tho Lady j)ra Kiidare, daughter of the late Earl of The young gentleman is the prem earl. And this is Mr Kiidare, 'my »loyer, the famous lawyer of Dublin.' ■rs Fogarty seemed overwhelmed at this Rouncemenb of the rank of her guests, littering a half-inaudible greeting, she ttsied repeatedly, and then, taking up ir candle from the hall shelf, led the way bo the parlour. The visitors followed. The Lady Nora looked curiously at the tenant of Yew Cottage, but her heart sank as she studied her countenance. Even her hopeful spirit could find no ground of en- ' couragement in tha' hard, Inrsh face. Unlike her sister, Mrs Fogarty presented no indication of her rank as a 'reduced gentlewoman.' She was a tall, coarse, heavy woman, massive and bony, and without superfluous flesh. She had long, swinging arms, and a heavy stride like that of a labouring man- Her low, freckled forehead was surmounted by a thick mat of red hair, which waved and kinked, and was with difficulty gathered into a tiny knot at the back ot her head. There was a certain air of elegance and imperiousness about Mrs Liffey, an attempt at stylishness, an evident desire to appear --as-a-£reat lady, but her sister presented a marked contrast to all this. . Barren of every grace, hard, harsh and angular, Mrs Fogarty was the same in mind aod heart as in person, and the woman of " all others to further the schemes of Lord ; Kiidare aud his kinsman.

c I am sure I never expected to have Lord and Lady Kildaie under the samo roof with me, and visitors like,' muttered Mrs Fogarty, placing chairs for her guests. ' This is an unexpected honour. I suppose your lordship and ladyship are just married — ' 'Don't you know any more about the Kildaro family than that?' interrupted Mrs Liffoy, impatiently. ' This young lady is the Lady Nora Kildare, and is not married. The young nobleman is Lord Kildare, the new earl, who has just come into his own, You must have read all about him in the papers. The Dublin papers have been full of his story, how that he's the son of the late Lord Redmond Kildare by an English play actress, and how his proofs of his idontity were so strong that tbe guardians of the Lady Nora declined to contest his claims. The whole kingdom has been ringing with the stoiy. They called it 'a romance in real life.' You siu-ely must have read it — ' • But I haven't, 5 interposed Mrs Fogarty. ' I don't take the papers. Its a waste of money. And, besides, why should I be fashing myself over other people's news when its nothing to me ? I never read the papers. I never got no good by doing so, and I can't see any use in it. But I took the young couple to be man and wife — I beg pardon — I meant, lord and lady — ' ' That's what we mean to have it,' declaied Mrs Lilley. 'Mr Kildare is one of the guardians of the Lady Nora — the only guardian now, in fact, for since she's lost) her fortune, Sir Knssel washes his hands of her, and won't, trouble himself about her. As Lady Nora's guardian, Mr Kildare wants her to marry Lord Kildare. She is poor and his lordship is rich. But my lady is perverse, and refuses to do as she is bid. She wants to mairy a beggarly lord up in Antiim, instead of this line match. And so her guardian has brought her to you, Catherine, to be kept prisoner hero until she gives in. You can break her spirit if anyone can.' • That I can,' asserted Mrs Fogarty, her small eyes snapping Aiciously. c l can bring her to her duty. But what am ito have for my trouble f Mrs Liffey reflected. Mr Kildare, however, answ ered the question for himself. ' If you keep her so close a prisoner that none of the neighbours even suspect that you have an inmate here,' the lawyer said in his soft, mild voice, which had grown more terrible to Lady Nora than the loudest, fiercest utterances of another, ' and if you compel her to accept Lord Kildare, as her future husband, I will pay you the sum of one hundred pounds.' Mrs JFogarty's face glowed with greedy desire. ' You may depend upon me I.she cried. "I'll make her stay here so unpleasant that she'll be glad to take refuge in Lord Kildare's arms. A hundred pounds !' • And if you succeed, Catherine, 1 said Mrs Liffey, all of whose ambitions and hopes were based on that success, all of whose future grandeurs were built on that precarious foundation, ' I will give you a titledeed of this house. I shall be well able to spare it ; and I'd give everything I now own in the world to see the Lady Nora Kildare the countess of the young carl.' The scheming housekeeper understood her sister well. This last offer, added to the former, quickened Mrs Fogarty's resolve into an unyielding determination. Yew Cottage was to her what the position as Mrs Michael Kildare was to Mrs Liffey. There was scarcely anything on earth she would not do to gain it. 'It shall be done,' she said abruptly. ' I will prepare her room while you are here. * She turned and strode heavily from the room, proceeding to a rear apartment, where she procured another light. She then trampled upstairs with a step like a grenadier. She was absent some ten or fifteen minutes, during which period the cabman returned, announcing his presence by a ring at the gate bell. There was a grim smile on her gaunfc face, as Mrs Fogarty at last returned to her visitors. ' My lady's room is ready,' she announced. ' And your cab is here. We had better take her upstairs before you go.' The lawyer arose at once. ' Be kind enough to wait heie, my lord,' he said, addressing his kin&man. ' I will be down directly.' He seized the arm of Lady Nora, but she flung off his grasp as if it had been the coil of a serpent. Her young face was very pale, so pale as to startle her false guardian, and from out the dead whiteness her great, sunny eyes glowed and burned like dusky stars. Every feature of her lovely countenance was instinct with a fctem" and terrible indignation. • Do not touch me, Michael Kildare !' she said, in a suppressed and quivering voice. SDo not lay your finger upon me ! False friend, false guardian, false kinsman ! My father trusted you and loved you. I have trusted you, too, and loved you, and you have plotted against my peace, connived with my enemies, robbed mo of my inheritance, and now would deprive me ot my liberty. Oh, Michael, it is worse than all the rest to learn your treachery.' A piteous look crept into her sternly sorrowful eyes. Even yet, it seemed, she could scarcely believe in his baseness. The moment of weakness and faltering , had gone by for Michael Kildare. His soft, full lip? hardened into a cruel smile. His eyes, which had always looked so benignantly upon his noble young kins- i woman, shone with a hard glitter. fiis mild, benevolent face glowed with an expression of triumph and malevolent determination. ' You are theatrical, Nora,' he said, the words sounding strangely when uttered in his gentle, mellifluous voice. 'Your denunciations of me are Avorthy of the staige. I am surprised at your display of temper. You stand to me in the place ot a daugh fcer, and I am bound to do a father's part by you. I choose to shut you up here tor your disobedience and contumacy ; but in the hour you choose to submit yourself to my will, and ma.vry the man I have chosen tor you, you shall receive your freedom. And with your freedom you shall alfco receive a husband, a loftier rank and title, wealth, a stately home, every good this world can give. My poor misguided child ! It is for your ovrii good I ana working now. ' The Lady Nora put up her hand in a gesture of angry dissent. A pained look con- ] vulsed her features, but her eyes were fixed steadily upon her guardian in increasing sternness. i • Michael Kildare/ she said, solemnly, ' I see you at last as you are ! Hypocrite ! I know now that your whole lite has been a lie ! Under all your softness and sweetness has been hidden an iron nature. It is like a bank of hardest rock 1 saw once, wreathed over with vines and flowers. Under themask of friendship to me you have hidden a deadly enmity — ' ' By Heaven, no, Nora — ' ' You need not deny it. I should not believe your denial. I see you at last stripped of all the poetry of goodness and softness. I know you at last for a viper, and I loatheand despise you.' , The bland, smooth face of the litble lawyer reddened. He looked- grieved andshocked rather than angry. ' • Nora !' he said, reproachfully. '

t ' Michael, do nob put on that look of injured innocence !' said the Lady Nora, sternly and steadily, ' You can no longer impose upon me. I know you at last/ — and she spoke with a slow inipressiveness — ' as you aro ! I know, too, that this young man, now known as the Earl of Kildare, but in "whose claim exists some secret defect known only to you — 1 know that he is bub a cubs-paw in your hands ! You stand behind him greater than he, directing his movements, guiding and controlling him. You are like a chess-player, aurl this question of the ownership of Point Kildare is the game you have in hand. It has suited you to advance this man's claims, and to pass him off to the world as the true and rightful heir, but you know in your heart that I am the owner of Kildare. 1 ' This is nonsense, Nora !' 'Ib is Heaven's own truth !' criod the girl, with sudden passionateness. ' You know that lam no coward. You know that I cannot be forced to marry this man. You may as well spare yourself the trouble of attempting to coerce me. No amount of force can ever drive me into an act against which my whole being revolts.' ' This is fine talk !" sneered Michaol Kildare. {We will test ibs (-ruth. A weak girl cannot hold oub long- against my will.' A change passed over the young Lady Nora's face. A passionate pain looked from her sad, stern eyes, and showed itself about her sweet mouth. Despite all her high cenrage, all her faith in her own principles, she shrank from the ordeal before her. Her grief at her guardian's cruel treachery convulsed her soul anew. ' Michael, 1 she said, lifting her hands and her piteous eyes to him, * ib is nob too labe to turn back ! In the name of my dead father, who loved you, I entreat you bo your duby ! I am willing to forgive you, and overlook your wrong to me, if you chooso to repent now. Restore mo to my rights, and I will reward you. Remember that I am an orphan girl, who was confided to your protection by ivy trusting fathei. You cannot betray tho trust of the dead, and wrong the defencelo&s, without future retribution. In mercy to yourself and me, do what is right. * Refuse,' she added, as she met his cold, impressive glance, and realised that her pleading had been thrown away, ' and when the hour of triumph comes, as it will come, you may find mo also merciless. ' The lawyer's lip curled. ' This is mere child's talk," he said. ' When your ' hour of triumph ' comes you will be Countess of Kildare, and will thank me tor my present firmness. As for all your accusations, they aro but the accusations of an unreasoning, childish anger. I hope when I come to see you, to find you in a better spirit. Now, if you please, we will go up to your room.' He laid his small, fat, soft hand on her arm, about which it closed liko a vice. In obedience to a nod from him, Mrs Liffey seized the girl's other arm. Mrs Fogarty, taking her cxbra light, bade them follow her, and led the way upstairs. The lawj'er and his housekeeper half led, half carried the young girl between them up bo the second storey. "'This way, Mr Kildare,' said Mrs Fogarby, taking her way to a rear chamber. 1 This is my lady's room. 'Tisn't much of a room. 'Tisn't must of a chamber for one that's used to suites of rooms in a big castle, but she can leave it for the castle any day she likes !' ' The dark room !' exclaimed Mrs Lifley approvingly. ' A good idea, Catherine. I'd like to see my Lady Nora escape from that.' Mrs Fogarty threw open the door of the rear joom, and passed in, holding the light well above her head. The lawyer and Mrs Liffey followed her with their struggling captive. The room was small, being about nine feet square. Ib was simply the end of the hall paititioned off. It had been used by various occupants ot the house as a dark bedroom, as a lumber-room, and as a store-room. It was now furnished barely and simply as u bedroom. I It had no windows, but was .supplied meagrely with light through a small glazed ventilator over tho door. The floor was coveted with a threadbare carpet. There was a straight-backed chair of uncomfortable shape, a small table, and a narrow, low, iron bedstead, upon which was a hard, though clean and freshly-draped bed. Nora's trunk had been brought up by Mrs Fogarty, and stood against the wall. Meagre and bare and dismal, w ibh no outlook, with only the bare walls on every side, and no gleam of light save what sbruggled in from the hall, this was a terrible pri&on for the luxuriously-bred young heiress of Kildare Castle. Yet she walked into it proudly, when once fehe had been thrust within its portals, as a queen might walk bo her throne. Whatever her secret terror and anguish, she did not choose to betray them to thobe vulture eyes. ■ Id is not too late to yield, Nora,' said tho lawyer, softly and pityingly. * I would save you this terrible ordeal — this fearful expei'ience. Men have gone mad in windowle&s dungeons like this. My poor Noia, you have but to say the word, to be restored bo bhe lighb and bo liberty !' ' I prefer darkness and irnprisonmenb bo a loveless marriage,' said bhe Lady Nora, coolly. • Then you shall have a full trial of them,' said Michael Kildare, hastily. ' Mrs Fogarty,' he added, turning to that woman, who was standing with arms akimbo, ' when the Lady Nora yields, and promisessolemnly to marry Lord Kildaie, I desire you to put her in a better chamber at once, and to send a messenger to me, with a sealed letter declaring her submission. On the leccipb of such a letter, I shall come at onco. And now, Nora,' he concluded, again addressing his young kinswoman,' T will say good-bye.' He moved toward her, all seeming pity, tenderness and benevolence, as if to embrace her. The Lady Nora regarded him in a haughty surprise. 'Do not touch me !' she said quietly. ' I am no longer imposed upon. I wanb none of your hypocritical caresses, you wolf in sheep's clothing !' The lawyer quailed before the indignant fire ot her eyes, and without a word stole silently out of the room. Mrs Liffey, with a swaggering, supercilious air, and with a menacing look at the captive, followed him. Mr Fogarty took up the streaming candle and went out last, halting outside to close and lock the door.