CHAPTER VIII—(Continued.)

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 405, 25 September 1889, Page 6

CHAPTER Vlll— (Continued.)

Sir Victor strolled away to smoke a cigar in the moonlight, and Miss Stuart, wifch a beautiful face, swept upstairs, her high-heeled New York gaicers click-click-ing over the ground. Lady Catheron, Lady Catheron ! Oh, what would all Fifth Avenue say to this ? Sleep was out of the question — it was open to debate whether she would ever sleep again. She would go and see Edith. Yes, Edith and Charley had got home before her — she would go and see Edith. She opened the door and went in with a swish of silk and patchouli. The candles were unlit. .Miss Darrell, still weaiing her ha*", and scarlet wrap, sat at the window contemplating the heavenly bodies. ' All in the dark, Dithy, and thinking by the " sweet silver light of the moon ?" O Edie ! isn't it jusc the heavenliest night ?' ' Is that what you came in to say, Miss Stuart ?' • Don't be impatient, there's a dear ! I what a delicious — de li-ci-ous,'" said Trix, dragging out the sweet syllable?, ' sail I've had. 0 Edie ! hoio J've enjoyed myself ! Did you ?' | Immensely !' Edith answered, with brief bitterness, and something in her tone made Trixy look at her more closely. ' Why, Edith, I do believe you've been crying !' ' Crying ! Bosh ! I never cry. I'm stupid — I'm sleepy— my head aches. Excuse me, Trix. but I'm going to bed.' 'Wait just one moment. O Edith,' with a great burst, ' I can't keep it ! I'll die if I don't tell somebody. O Edith, Edith ! wish me joy, Sir Victor has t>roposed !' ' Trix !' She could just say that one word — then she sat dumb. '0 ye 3, Edithout in the boat to-night. O Edith ! I'm so happy — I want to jump — I want to danee — I feel wild with delight ! Just think of it think of it ! Trixy Stuart will be my Lady Catheron !' She turned of a dead white from brow to chin. She sat speechless with the shoek — looking at Trixy — unable to speak or move, ' He's rao.-t awfully and aggravatingly modest,' "^rsued Beatrix. 'Couldn't say plump, iiSe a man and brother, "Trixy Stuart, will you marry me ?" but beat about the bush, and talked of being reiused, and fearing a rival, and speaking to ma and pa and Lady Helena when he got to England. But perhaps that's the way the British aristocracy mak6 love. He asked me if there was any previous engagement, and any fear of a refusal, and that rubbish. I don't see,' exclaimed Trixy, growing suddenly aggrieved, ' vhy he couldn't sneak out like a hero, and be done with it ! He's had encouragement enough, goodness knows !' Something ludicrous in the last words struck Edith — she burst out laughing. But somehow the laugrh sounded unnatural, and her lips felt stiff and strange. ' You're as hoarse as a raven and as pale as a ghost,' said Trix, ' That's what comes of sitting in draughts, and looking at the moonshine. I'm awfully happy, Editn, and when I'm Lady Catheron, you shall come and live with me always — always, you dear old darling, just like a sister. And some day you'll be my sister in reality, and Charley's wife. 5 She flung her arms around Edith's neck, and gave her a rapturous hug. Edith Darrell unclasped her arms and pushed her away 'I'm tired, Trix. I'm cold.' She shivered from head to foot. ' I want to go to bed.' ' But won't you say something, Dithy ? Won't you wish me joy.' ' I—wis1 — wish — you joy. ' Her lips kept that strange feeling of stiffness — her face had lost every trace of colour. Oh, to be alone and free from Trix ! 'You say it as if you didn't mean it,' said Trix indignantly, getting up and moving to the door. ' You look halffrozen, and as white as a sheet. I should advise you to shut the window and go to bed.' She was gone. Edith drew a long breath — a long, tired, heavy sigh. So ! that was over — and it was Trix, after all. Trix after all ! How strangely it sounded — it stunned her. Trix, after all, and she had made sure ie was to be her&elf. He had looked at her, he had spoken to her, as he had never looked or spoken to Trix. His colour had risen like a girl's at her coming — she had felt his heart bound as she leaned on his arm And it was Trix, after all ! She laid her arm upon the window-sill, and her face down upon it, feeling sick — sick — that I should have to write it ! with anger and envy. She was Edith Darrell, the poor relation, still — and Trix was to be Lady Catheron. ' A pretty heroine !' cries some ' gentle i reader,' looking angrily up ; * a nasty, envious, selfish creaturp. Not the sort of a heroine we're used to.' Ah ! I know th it — \ none better ; but then pure and perfect beings, who are ready to resign their lovers and husbands to make other women happy, are to be found in — books, and nowhere else. And thinking it over and putting yourself in her place - honestly, now! — wouldn't you have been envious yourself? i