A Wonderful Woman.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 464, 19 April 1890, Page 3

A Wonderful Woman.

By MAY AGNES FLEMING, Author of-“ Guy Earlescourt’s Wife,” “A Tenrible Secret,” “ Lost for a Woman,’? . “ A Mad Marriage,” eto-

. BOOK 11. 'chapter;XVl. ' THE STORY OF THE ,IVORY MINIATURE. ‘'Lady Cecil,’ Lord Ruysland said, ‘ a word .with you . ; /• It.was an ominous beginning. The earl • never called his-daughter by her proper ' name of title unless in a state of unusual gravity or unusual displeasure. They were, alone together. The hour was just after dinner, and the ladies, among whom the governess had figured, :had adjourned from the dining to the drawing-room. Miss O’Donnell had gone to the piano, my lady perused a.popular novel. Miss Herncastle seated herselfby : the window with that - filmy lace, embroidery—Lady Dangerfield -kept her constantly ernployed—and Lady, Cecil; fueling oppressed and dub 61 spiritssomehow, had thrown a blapk lace-mantilla over her head'atid white siimmer dress, and stepped through one of the open windows out upon the lawn, and down to the terrace- She .was pacing slowly and thought-- . fully up and down, a lovely vision in the sunset, when her father’s voice abruptly spoke behind her. * • ... . She turned in surprise. She had imagined him with the other gentlemen. Sir Arthur, the major, and Sir Peter, over the wine and after-dinner talk, and here he was beside her,'with a face of ominous gravity. ‘ With me, papa ? Certainly ! What is it?’-' ■ "Bat her-heart fluttered, guiltily a little, as she asked the question, what it was—something very unpleasant, flashed upon her at'Once. ' // v • . ‘What is it? Do you really, need to ask that question, Lady Cecil,:?- - I have come to demand an explanation of your 'Extraordinary conduct of late.’ • ‘ My - extraordinary conduct ! Really, papa—’ - • ■ . ‘•That will do. : You feign surprise very well, my dear, but it doesn’t deceive me. 1 repeat;—your extraordinary cqnduct! What do you mean by it ?. In regard to Miss Herncastle, I mean, of course.’ ‘Miss Herncastle !’ ‘ Lady Cecil, be good enough to cease; repeating everything! say as if you were a parrot,’ ’he* father said, more irritation in 7 his face- and tone than she had Oyer seeii ; or heafd there before in her life. ; ~* hearing: is iiofc defective,-1 hope —I said Miss Herncastle; What do you mean ; by your conduct to'.jbhat young: woman ? Why do you insist; upon iorcirig 'her . society upon us—by making her; one of the ,family,, as it were—by having her to -dine with us ? Oh, don’t lay the blame upon. Giiievra-7-sfte would nevef think of 'so preposterous a thing’if left-to herself. I repeat once more, Lady Cecil —what does it mean ?’ , , ' " ‘Really, papa —and Lady Cecil tried to laugh— ‘ I did not know, so simple a matter : would so seriously exercise you. 1 thought vou believed in equality, fraternity—were a /radical of the most rabid sorb in politics,

arid—’ j ‘Keep to the point, if you please,’the earl interrupted, impatiently; ‘ we’re not talking politics now. It does not matter what I believe, whether I am radical or conservative in this affair, that I can see. It is a'purely personal arid family concern. Cecil!’—sternly—' 1 has Sir Arthur Tregenna formally proposed to you yet ?’ .* . The faint carnation rose up all over Lady Cecil’s fair, pearly face. . > . ‘No,papa.’ -'" , , ‘I thought not,’ but his face darkened as he said it. 1 And whose fault is that ? Not Sir Arthur’s, lam very certain.’ '• " • ‘ Sir* Arthur's, • surely, papa. What would you have? The absurd customs of England require that a lady shall wait until she is asked. Do you wish me to go to Sir Arthur and order him to marry me ?’ ‘I wish you to act like a rational being, to cease acting* in such a manner as to render a proposal for ever impossible. Are you wilfully blind, that you cannot see he is felling in love with that confounded nhrsery governess ?’ ‘ ‘My sight • is perfect, Lady Cecil answered, coldly ; ‘ and if it were not I ' still might see that. Sir Arthur takes little pains'to concehl his preference. As it is probablv the first time that austere'gentle!man ever: felt a touch of the tender passion it. would be a thousand pities to come between him , and- it. I certainly shall not.’ '• ■ tWhat doyou mean? _ ‘ This, papa,’ Lady Cecil said, ‘ there is . no use in getting angry or excited—that if .‘Sir Arthur prefers Miss Herncastle to me I . shall never be Miss Serncastle’s rival. And . if he can honestly and truly fall in love with her, as I believe it is in his nature to Jove, I honour and congratulate him on his choice- Why should you or 1 try to thwart • it ? : He is not bound to me in any way : he cares as little for me in the way of love, as I do for him. Miss Herncastle is a much, •cleverer woman than l am,; or shall.be, and if -he wishes it, why, let him marry her. She certainly suits him much better .than I should, and for the difference -in rank, if he, can overlook that, we. surely may. Of this be very certain ’—her eyes flashed and her colour rose— ‘ I will 'accept 1 no man’s- hand: while his heart is another .woman’s, though ' his fortune .were ‘ three times thirty thousand a yeah’ : yir listened, amaze', scorn,.anger,:• pasdiohy swaying alternately over his placid, face; but he heard her to the end. His, eyes were fixed. upon her. proud, resolute face, the sneer that rarely left them curling his lips cynically now. . . v ‘ Fine sentiments,’ he-said ; ‘ fine heroics, taken second-hand, no doubt, from the Castleford circulating library. -You appea,r to have changed your mind of late, my dear; we did not hear these lofty , sentiments when we spoke together some • wee&s ago of this matter in London. ; Bdt ‘things have changed since .then, i and(other actors have- appeared upon the. , scene. I,‘Wonder now. ’—he .folded his arms and looked at her, with sneering sarcasm—- ‘ whether i the coming, of that fine young Irishman, Redmomt O’Donnell, has had anything-to do with it?’ - . ' Long, practice had tanght him to stab home—surely and strongly. The flush of colour that had arisen to-her face died out as be spoke, leaving her whiter than. her '■ ‘ This is your revenge,’ she- said' slowly.; , but I - think my father might have spared mae that.-: From other lips I should deem ib an insult.’ •>. : ■<" ' „ _ , ‘lndeed. And why, I wonder? Hes -very • handsome, he has th© dash and th© -air. noble you women love, and he is the hero of a thousand battles.” You all like j-strong warriors, don’t you? And then—it may have been, fancy—but I used to ’think, dong, ago in Ireland, that you Were in some

danger of—you understand, I suppose? Didyou ever wonder, my dear, why I carried you off so suddenly ? That was why. You were only sixteen, and sixteen is so supremely silly.; And though I don’t think your youthful penchant was returned at hat time, Irish hearts are proverbially n flammable, and it might have . been. Being poor as a church mouse yourself, it would hardly have done to ally you to another church mouse as long as bread and cheese are requisites of existence. I carried you off, and you pined on the stem for a few weeks, then Cecil was herself again. Now the hero of Torryglen is with us once more-; and I remember the French have a proverb about one always returning, to his ■ first love. Your, conductof late has certainly been so extraordinary that there must be some reason for it.’.

■ He stopped. ..She never, spoke. She was white to the lips with some painful inward emotion ; her brown eyes looked straight before her, with a light no one had ever seen before in the soft eyes of La Reine Blanche. ‘You do not answer,' her father said, beginning to feel that he might have gone •too far; * perhaps then I am wrong after all in my suppositions. If 30, I beg your pardon. . But the matter lies so near my heart, my dear, that you will, forgive me if in my displeasure aud .disappointnient I speak harshly.’ His heart! The Right Honourable the Earl of Rhysland’s heart! Asmile crossed his daughter’s lips—a fahß, bitter smile, not pleasant to see on lip's se youpg/an<! QweSt;'-" 1 .. '• •••

‘I ; repeat it,-’ her father said,-as though answering her scornful smile *my heart is set upon your marriage with the son of my oldest friend. It will be the bitterest blow of my life if that marriage is not consummated.’ : .

‘Papa,’ Lady Cecil answered, ‘let us drop our masks—there is no one to see or hear. Your heart is fixed on my marriage with the son of your, oldest friend. How-’ would it be. if the son of that oldest friend were penniless as—as Redmond O’Donnell, for instance, whom you fear so greatly ?• It is the thirty thousand a year you wish me to marry, is it*not ? -It is a rich and liberal son-in-law-your heart is set on, I fancy. You call it by a prettier name, but that is what it really comes to.’ 1 .. - ‘Very well, my dear — on ; the" thirty thousand, If you will. l and penniless, you are penniless. Is the degradation of mar rying a fortune greater than the degradation of living on the bounty-of a- man like Peter Dangerfield ? • You are >an earl’s daughter, a reigning belle, high-born and high-bred, -and you are a pauper. The food you eat, the roof that shelters you, the dress you wear, are unpaid for. This sort ot thing,cari’b go on for ever: A crisis is near—flight; exile for me; for yOu; my proud, high-spirited-Cecil, what? She learied-against a slender rose-wreathed pilaster, arid covered her. face ; with both hands, her heart too full for words. ' ‘ Truth is unpleasant,’ her father pursued, ‘ but there are times when it must be, spoken. You are acting like. a. fool—l really criri’t help saying: it—and must be brought to-your-senses. Let us look the facts'in the face. Ypu came; .down' here with every intention, of ..accepting Sit Arthur. Sir . Arthur Comes ‘ 'down with every intention of proposing, iOn the day following the picnic. I know he meant to-propose; I saw'it on his face, anyone might see it. Everything had gone, on velvet; you had played your cards very well,’ she winced at the words— ‘ our object was attained. When Oinevra .sent him into the violet boudoir in. search of you, I could have sworn he would have proposed before he came out. Five jninutes ’after I saw that confounded Miss Herncastle, sent by the Demon of Mischief, no doubt, follow and spoil all. He met her, you presented her as-though she had been his equal, and the trouble began. Without beauty, without vivaoity, without''statioujiShe is .yet one of those women, whose 3ubtle.pp.jyer is as irresistible to some men ‘as it - is: incomprehensible. What you, with all your beauty,, all your attractions, all your prior .claim, have 'failed' to' do, she "has done, He is ! an honourable man, and' with the innate simplicity of a. ' child. IbeliEve in my sdril he-has nob the faifitesb idea that he is falling ihfabuatedly in love With her. She fascinates hirri, and he is led unconsciously into the trap. She is l one of. your silent, deep, dangerous sorb. She will marry him—mark my words, Queenie—that young woman will marry him.’ She looked up, pale and tremulous in the silvery dusk.' ‘Well, papa, and if she does? She will not be the first governess who has married a baronet!’

' ‘ My dear, thereis this of-it. The wpman is no ordinary governess; she is an adven- ' turess, and one of the deepest and most unprincipled sorb.’ . . -;V ' •* Papa ! this is cruel, this is unjust. You know nothing of Miss Herncastle.’ ‘lhave eyes and I have studied physiognomy before now. That woman is capable of deeds you never think of ; she is clever, deep-thinking, and, unscrupulous. She will marry Sir Arthur before he, knows it, and the day that makes her his wife is the day that ushers in his life-long misery. I can’t stand by and see it. You must save him, Cecil.’ Papa, it is impossible. Oh, pray let me alone. What can .1 . do ? ‘ I-liked him, I esteemed him, I. might grow to love*him in time, as a. wife should,do so deserving a husband. While -his heart was free I was willing to obey you, to retrieve our fallen fortunes, and . marry him. But all that.is changed. VYe have fallen very low, bub there is still, a deeper depth than mere, poverty. If he cares for her, if he wishes to marry her, if he loves her,-in short, it would be degrading on my part to accept his hand. I do not want to be poor, I do not want to anger or disobey you, papa, bub I cannob —Lcannot—l cannot!’■ Her voice ,broke in ; - a sort of sob; he»< brown-eyas wero full.of passionate pleading; <an.d.pain<i, Her fingers tope all unseeing the flowers; from .the- pillar and ffuug them .wantonlyaway. ... .‘lt is nob too late,’the earl said, calmly ; ,‘the mischief has, begun—it is not done. Trust to me; I will repair it—l will save him.’ She looked at him suspiciously. . ‘ How?’ - •- ■ •- • < ‘ I shall have'Misß Herncastle sent away. I shall explain to Ginevra, and at any cost the .governess shall be dismissed. And pending that dismissal she shall not be allowed to appear in our midst. “..Lead us not-into temptation.”. Not a word, Cecil; in; this matter.. I shall act as. I please. . You must marry Sir Arthur .Tregenna you shall— not fate itself can pactyou. This i is the last evening of Miss Herncastle’s appearance in- the drawing-room—-the last week (if T can manage it so speedily) of her- stay at Scarswoot}. And 'for: you; don’t hold poor. Tregenna at arm’s •length as you do, You avoid him on every possible..oceasionyou slip away and leave , (him whenever, you can. , Don’t let me fancy my suspicions about O’Donnell are correct.’Lady Cecil .started up, stung beyond all endurance by the last words. ‘Again Redmond O’Donnell! Rapa, this is nob to be endured even from you. You insult me, you slander him. It was you who brought himhere. Why did you do it ? He would never have come of his own free’ will—you insisted, upon it. And since ■ he-.has: been here,; has he- given you any

ground for your suspicions? Has he paid me the slightest attention beyond the most, formal courtesy of a gentleman to a lady ? Have you ever seen us together ?—lias been half a quarter as attentive as Major Frankland, or the rector’s son ? Leave Captain O'Donnell’s name out of the discussion. Believe me, if all your fears were as groundless as your fears of him, your mind would be easily set at rest.- He treats me with a civil indifference that is as unflattering as it is sincere.’ She turned abruptly to leave him, a bitterness in her voice she hardly strove to conceal, a passion in her eyes rarely seen there. - :

■* Have you nothing more to say?’ she asked abruptly.; ‘it is turning chilly, and I am cold.’ She shivered as she spoke, and her fair face looked quite colourless in the fading light. *Do as you will. It is useless to resist fate. If I must marry Sir Arthur must.- Bub if Miss Herncastle be an adventuress, I wonder what I am ?’ She pushed aside the rich curtains of silk and lace, and stepped into the drawingroom. . The lamps filled the long apartment with golden mellow light, and Sir .Arthur sab at the governess’ side. Squire Talbot had called and he was entertaining Miss O’Donnell. Her brother was not present ; for that- at least, Lady Cecil was grateful. ' -* "• .- ;; Lady Cecil took the vacant-place at the piano.. Her father follbwing her in, crossed without’compunction to-the pair, in the window the lady embroidering still, .the .gentleinan watching the.clear.-ciß.prd--file as it bent over the ; work, the long, white, swift fingers, and neither talking much.

‘ How hard you work, Miss Herncastle !’ his lordship said blandly ; you put us idle people to shame. . Is Sir Arthur taking lessons in needle-work? I hope you find him an apt pupil, my dear young lady?’ Sir Arthur coloured, partly with annoyance, partly with'-a- sense of compunction.. Latterly it had beg urn to dawn upomhim that his mission to Scarswood had not beeri.fril'filled—that hehadiw/ asked Lady Cecil Clive bo.be his wife. And in part he stood com-, mitted to her. She must know what had brought him down ; - she must know what had been on his lips when Miss Herncastle entered the boudoir. And Miss Herncastle 1 in some way he stood committed here, too. S.he attracted him as no woman had ever-done before in his life, and he had made' no secret of that attraction., Tp.keep faith with one, he must.in a;Way hreak it to, the other. Like that gallant knight- of the Laureate’s story, ‘ his honour rooted in dishonour stood.’ And this evening he was realising it for the first tiine. Miss Herncastle srriiled, perfectly unembarrassed, and reached over for the dainty little basket that held her* flosses and laces. Either by'accident or design,: the earl neiver knew which, the basket upset, and flossss arid ■ laces fell in a shining heap at ; the earl’s feet.. Something, else/, fell, . too—a square,; hard substance' that flashed in the gaslight. . Sir. Aubhur picked.'up; the basket and fancy work, his lordship the; square substance. What, was it?' / A portrait—an old-fashioned ivory miniature,.beautifully, painted and set in a jewelled frame. His eyes fell upon if, arid a Sudden stillness of great surprise came* over him ’from 4 head- tq foot ; then he turned, round' -and looked Miss Herncastle full-in tfle face.. She met his gaze with calm c.bmposriye,and reached out-her hand; . •?. .

.‘ My favourite souvenir,’ she .said, ‘I hope it is not injured.’ ‘ How stupid of me' to upset the basket. ‘ Thanks, my lord.’ But my lord still held the ivoryminiature, still looked at Miss Herncastle.

‘;J beg your pardon,’ he said in an altfered voice. : ‘lt,sounds,rather impertinent, ‘fcq.6 I must.aSjk .where you got this// :• ■■ ?- . Miss Herncastle looked surprised..

‘That ! that picture, my lord ? Oh ! “thereby hangs a tale.” Do vou know who ■it is?’ '• • • ~ - ■ •- f

‘ Miss Herncastle, do you ?’ . ‘No.; and I have the greatest curiosity on the subject. That picture came into my possession in the most accidental manner and for the past six years I hav.e been! trying to discover its-.owner,. but as yet I have not succeeded. Her name was Mrs Vavasor.’ ". ,

' ‘ Mrs' Vavasdr.!: I" knew more than one Mrs Vavasor, but none of' 1 them in the least likely'to possess this picture.’ .. ‘ You know the original of that' picture, then, my lord ■?’-., ‘ Undoubtedly, Miss Herrioasble. The original of. this picture , is, Major Lionel Cardonnell, my late wife’s only brother; at present in Quebec. ..May .1, in turn; inquire who was Mrs Vavasor, and how she came to be possessed of this.?’ He was watching her—vague, strange suspicions afloat in his mind. From first to last she was a strange, mysterious creature, ' this governess : ah air of mystery appeared to enshroud her her possession of his brother-in-law’s-picture seemed to cap the climax.-- ... - ,v

• Miss Herncastle met his suspicious gaze with the calm of conscious rectitude.. . ‘ Two questions, my lord,; which, unfortunately, I am incapable of answering. Six. years ago I gave music lessons in the family of a mercantile gentleman—his name was Jones and he has since emigrated to Australia with his family ;' and visiting that family I met Mrs Vavasor. We became very friendly, not to the point of intimacy, though; and- one day, 'upon-my leaving the house, she gave me this portrait; and.asked me to take it-to a jeweller’s to have one of the stones replaced fin . the, case. She was suffering, from headache, herseif, she said, and dare nob venture out, and servants were too careless to be trusted.. She told me,, laughingly, that it was the portrait of an old lover of hers. I took if, and for four days again did nob visit the family. When I returned I discovered Mrs Vavasor had Suddenly‘gong' away ; they had discovered something con- • cerriinghernot to her credit—’had quarrelled and!parted. .She:had.gone,to France, they said,- and refused:.:to, have.-causytking: to';do : with, her property.-Upder these 1 circumstances I kept the picture until-she should seixd for if £he never .send - for it, and. I have never met her since, • I never -heard the name of tile gentleman, whose likeness it is.until to-day,' , : She threaded her needle, and placidly went on with her work. The earl listened in profound silence. It sounded plausible enough, and yet he did nob believe her. But then,-he . was prejudiced against'Miss Herncastle. He.handed it back : to her and. arose. , "

- ‘ What was your Mrs Vavasor like, Miss Herncastle?’

, ‘ She .was a,little; dark .woman of French extraction, I believe, in'spiite of her English , name, >’i&ith black eyes and. hair, incessant smile. As a rule, people called her very pretty. Her -first name vvas Harriet.’ v’"'. vi ' ‘ Harriet ? Yes—l see—l see. Tb was Harriet Lelacheur to a dead certainty—Mrs Harman, rather, under an alias. I thought so from the first. I .thought her dead years ago.’ , > He sauntered away. Sir Arthur in turn took the iv.ory miniature and gazed at it. ‘ Did you know Majpr Cardonnell, Sir Arthur ? Bub I. suppose you must have been too young.’ * No, I never saw Lionel CardonneH,’ the baronet said ; ‘I heard the story-often; though. Very handsome face,;is it nob?— much handsomer ' than that of the; late Countess of Ruysland, and.yeb like her, tool ’

‘ You knew the countess ?’ ‘ Certainly not. The Countess of Ruys- - "and-died, before her daughter was a week old, but I have often seen her picture. Lady Cecil -wears one, and there' is a large painting at Clive .Cqurt.’ . ••• : ‘ Does Lady Cecil resemble h6r mother? If so; her mother uaust certainly have b'eem very beautiful.’ - ’• • > ‘ She does not in the. Jeast resemble her .mother —her father either, as you may .se© —nor any relative of the Clive of’Cardonuell families. Mips Herncastle, will you "think it strange 7 if-; tell .yeu—you* resemble at times in thev most singular manner, Lady Ruvsland ?’. ,:"

‘impossibie* Sir Arthur 1’ . . " ‘lt is perfectly true. His; lordship saw the resemblance the first evening he met you—Lady Cecil has. spoken often of the singular, faqiiliarity of your face. I did not remark jb to ;her, bub I know it is your resemblance to ,her mother. Something in the expression, something in the poise of the head and the colour of the .eyes/ are precisely the.same as in her-.ladyship’s portraits.. . ,Y'ou ~are. much more' like-the-late Lady Ruvsland than her own daughter.’ ' Her self-command was wonderful, but the filmy web of flossy lace dropped suddenly in her,!ap, and her face turned" from him to the purple tmlighb, where the ri'aoro.us roses slept, and the tall arum' lilies their' snowy heads. • lb was‘aminute .be&te she ;could - trust' herself to speak. ~-., Thefl*-.tb®F laugh cb.imeci/on 'stUlness/ her sfoiiipg face turned tb’hihf'once'more. ;' v '"

‘ Another unaccountable resemblance,’, she said: ‘ Really, Sir Arthur, I begin to think I. must be. a most abnormal sorb of a person. I startle poor, nervous Sir Peter by my real or" fancied resemblance to a young lady relative of his dead and gone, I startle the earl by my resemblance to his late-wife ; I wonder now. whose double I , shall bnd/Ufl.ys.elf qest ?/ ""‘lt z.'S'odd/'SLr Arthur answered, looking at h'et grav'Ely. - ‘ Y6ur resemblance to the late Miss : Katherine Dangerfield must be very striking indeed. Mr Talbot, of Morecambe, is almost as much impressed by it as Sir Peter./You rlikeness to Lady Ruysland’s portrait Is only .. seen at times, and then not very strongly. Stilbit is there.’ . ‘ And thiehandsome young officer is' Lady Ruysland.’s-brother. I have puzzled myself, a thousand‘times trying'b'b/imagipe who it, co'uld satisfactory to know even that fiiucff.; '/pS r fc; jv , iil' ybu ‘think me imperSir'Arthur, if T should ask tri know even : tnoi‘e ? There are reasons, nob easily to'be ek|lained, connected with ,Mrs. Vavasor, that tnake me extremely desirous to know.all I-’rian of ; her antecedenfs.: Was: this gentleman—so greatly above her in.: rank as lie;- must have Jbeen—really her lover'.?’ *..<.«/>> .7 •/ .. - ; ' * Mrs/Yayaspr,? But you forget, Miss ,Herncastle/' 1? <?° ’.not r know Mrs Vavasor. -. Lionel Cardonnell has riot,, set foot in England for over five-and-twenby years. He.hris been stationed at every military" depot in the Cahadas, the Proviricesj arid Bermuda. ' r At ; present be is -in Quebec. - Your Mrs Vavasor may have, knotvii'him oilt there.’: 1 /. » ■■

‘ No,’Mies .'Herncastle replied, I,fancy.: n,ot: She .knew, hiift' in England,. |and- -vajy. long. ago,-.i)rH§r .mßiden ..name..was Harriet' ' intelligence brealtnip •/ Harriet Lelacheur. ThW"'i'fcVis q'ttitE' ' clear,-' of EQUfse./ ; ;'4M''yb^k?)'ew,Mrs Harman/did' you, Miss Herncastle ?’ ' / . ' , :‘.l.h‘aved3Qet;her,.i.;'She called herseilf Mrs •Vavaso.r; ;tho.ug& : an.alias,. possibly. ’ v/Qr/possjjslyj she married again after. VYell,., Miss, Herncastle, she bold yop.bie.truth concerning Cardon:nell/rbb.wq^erilcui^,.’.;/'.,.//'/i‘ "/:_., ;. /• . ‘ Anjl wquld have been heivnusband if he. could—is tijat true al.so, Sir Arthur,?;. «. . >; Perfectly' true, 'l‘ Relieve. ’,/ .. '/' \\ ‘ Lady Ruysland—his sister—carried her off to soine"fondj”'/place' qri tile Obrnishcoast,' and itpjn'isbired Kbr tlierE, . while he exchanged*/into; a ! regirhenb ordered -to Canada,’ pUrsued;Mis3 Herncastle. ‘■Again, quite-true. I see she has been making y.ou hew confidante. He is married there to a French, Canadian, I believe, of wealth and beauty, and no doubt laughs when .he recalls, his first passion for his sister’s femme .de chambre, and congratulates Himself upon his narrow escape." Still, if oriE may Venture to express an opinion, ;it can hardly' be called a very' creditable act on'the part of the late couritEss.' ‘What!’ the governess cried,/to save ■ her brother from a designing adventuress —ruining his,life by a marriage with such a woman as that ?’

He looked at her in surprise, and a little, perhaps, in displeasure. ‘ A designing adventuress ? Bub she- was nob a designing adventuress' in those days. She was beneath him in rank, certainly,bub they loveff bach other very sincerely. May a man'’not stoop sometimes to raise the woman' of-ills choice to hisown social level, and yet be both perfectly happy ?’ • .This was. treading on delicate ground. His ; eyes brightened as he spoke. Miss Herncastle picked up her work, cook another needleful of floss, and went calmly on. . •'

‘Certainly, if the woman of his , choice be a lady. But that Harriet Lelacheur could never have been. From my experiher she' must always have been 'underbred, , selfish, coarse, and wicked. These qualities may not have been shown in the happy days of her .youth—a lover’s blind eyes may nob have seen them'; believe me, though, they were always there. It was a --fortunate escape for Major Cardonnell; ; he : has reason to congratulate himself, and thank his sister’s . gfeyer strategy. By; the way, though, Lady Rnysland and her ex-waiting’-ihaid.musb hraVe become reconciled fropi • I heard the latcer '^he 1 ,^6^ng v ’' s in'iiu9tri6usly '"’ohee fiSffi?e." w1 Iwtet>rii!jylf wa'tJwatching her;;'-: 5 W''- viy*'- r.n ;■ ‘They.did. M-y lady, by way of recompense, doweled her waiting-maid,, arid married her to.-a' tratJosman of the. place'; his . name was.Harthrin. He diedibefole the first -year:’ of -his, maijriigd , lifef-ha’d expired, leaving,,hi?.,young jyife : . and a babe of a .fortnight:,oid-v)-Of 'course, ; of all this I know nothing."personally ;"I have heabd my poor father, though, and ■ Lord -Ruyslapff '.speak, of it so .often that -it seems .as familiar to me a's a - household word.'’ - •' - • • •:

‘ Arid Lady-RuysVarid . came to the aid of her servant again, I 'suppose, -in. her hour of widpw-hood. and-, adversity!: She • was 'riobie ; in : that,'!attLeast.,’:. , i ' '

‘ .>'tShepKas ndhlq iri,idllvthings,.’Sir Arthur answered.: ‘ ijby was a,loyal, ..and' generous hajbure.vbut witp a a : fiery, . temper, a-je.|:'ep r f: jealousy .and a leckiessness ; , have, " wrecked' many "a noble, nature beforev’ It is not. a .pleasant story, Miss Hern6as'ble,;‘ , li‘tit ali it-is po secret. ' to .her hrimble friend,not to succour,-; hut./iiksheitfei': 1 ! If; ;; \ : .:y • " , . ' 1 ‘ : For shelter,’ Miss ITorncastle repeated, looking at him Bbria(lily ; ‘ and died in' ner' arms.l > y,>,; v.■ * Ah i you know the story.. Yes,, in that humble cottage, with only-flier old'Servant by her side, poor, passionate “ "erring I#ady Ruysland died; She .was, insanely je*aloue .—who. isito.-tall whether.-wLth, 6rcause ?—;Of orio whp had been hpr: 1 bofore,; younger; than ■ herself; as-

highly born, but poor. His lordship was absent, in Italy—rumour said, to be near her. Very likely rumour erred, as it usually .'does ; at least her ladyship believed it, and on the night of the .earl’s return a violent scene ensued. He left her in high anger ; bitter words had'-passed ; and in the frenzy of her rage, apd jealousy she fled. Next morning-sh'e no where to be found. All • day they lopked-for her in vain.' At'nightfall a messenger came to Clive Court from Mrs Harman, summoning his lordship. A daughter had been born, a wife 'was dead !’ Oncb more the embrodiery dropped in Miss Herncastle’s lap. Her eyes were dilated, fixed on his face; her lips ’were'breathless and apart in the intensity of' her interest. ; ,

‘They brought the poor dead lady home; the child they left with Mrs Harman.to nurse. Whether or no Lord Ruysland really’had or had not wronged his wife, no one will ever know now. Her death was a terrible blow to him—for a: time.’ The speaker*paused a second, glanced’ across at his lordship’s serenely high-bred, placid countenance, and smiled. ‘For a time.’ We lose our nearest and dearest, and the world goes round much the same as ever, and we with in, and we eat, drink, and are merry, and—forget. Clive Court was shut up, Mrs Harman was handsomely pensioned and the baby, Lady Cecil, left with her. ! ‘ For’two years Lord Ruysland was absent-; then.a letter from Mrs Harman recalled him., : She.was ,of French extraction, and had;taken, a sudden fancy to visit her relations . in,:.. Raids—would his lordship come and take his little daughter and let her go? He returned to England, received Lady Cecil from her hands, placed her with some relatives in a remote part of England to grow up, and returned to his wandering life. Mrs Harman-left England with her daughter, and I fancy the earl never heard of her from that day to this,' until he chanced to see his brother-in-law’s picture a. few moments ago. Miss Herncastle, Lady Cecil has left the piano; after all this talking will you not reward me by a little of your matchless; music ?’ She arose atrince and went with him to the., piano. For' nearly an. hour she sat playing bravely and brilliantly, he seated near, his face in shadow, his ears drinking In those .sweetest strains. Then she got up, and for the first time in his experience, of her, held out her hand as she' said good-pight. . ‘You have done me a great favour, tonight, Sir Arthur,’ she said ; : ‘ greater thanyou know. Let me thank'you, and—goodnight.’

He looked up at her in surprise. ‘A great favour,’ he repeated, holding her firm, cold hand in his clasp ; ‘ I don’t understand, Miss Herncastle.’

. She smiled—g strange exultant sort of smile-Mookigg, not at him, but across the room,'at the figures of the’ Earl of Ruysland,'the Lady Cecil Clive. Long, after, he had reason to know what the strange and triumphant smile meant; . ‘ You may understand some day, Sir Arthur, and sooner than you think. Once more, goodr-night.,’ With , the words she was gone. He watched the tall, pomiriandirig 'figure as it swept' .gcrqss,. .the' .'roqm' afid disappeared. 'Other .eyes. Had _ witnessed 'that, farewell the. Earl of Euyslafid 'set his- lips, the delicate wgxen c'Heek of . Lady'- Cecil flush'ed. ‘ • "• • • 'T* i- ■ •

‘ There shall be'an endrof this’,’ his lordship'thought length-of your tether,.Sir Ar.thur.TEgge'rinsfjS it is high time to pull you up.’ ’ .) '■ Miss Herncastle went up to,. her rritomV but not to bed. She sat down by the open--window., a starry light in her eyes, almcist a flush of cplou-r on h.ef'marble fkCe. '*

' k Ab lasi)!' last ; . tier lips.' said.'., V' :■ : ..She was, s.mHing-Aa/smilb n"ot good to.see. Hereyes weW fixed pA" fhe night ‘Efub she saw hothihg. So, for upward of an Hour, she safe She could hear' the sounds from below, the music, the soft hum of •voices, the low laughter. She, could hear, but she hardly seemed to listen. She was. wrapt in herself ;• that glowing, exulting face, you would not have known-it again. ‘At last! at.last I’.she kept softly repeating, ‘ my hour has come.V . She arose after , a time. . Even through her absorption "the falling,dew struck chill. She arose, closed the window and the curtains, lit the lamp, and flung the ivory miniature contemptuously across into an open trunk-. ■’ ■■■ ‘Lie there.’ she said; ‘you have done your, work. I want you no more. I have waited- six years—a- long time ; but evenTroy fell at last. I have heard all I wanted to hear. . I see my way clear to the end now!’ fTo be continued.)