Chapter II.

Waikato Times, Volume X, Issue 570, 15 January 1876, Page 2 (Supplement)

Chapter 11.

Madame Fitzgerald, the widow of a Council lor of State, bad been extremely handsome, and was so still, although she had reached the age of forty -five. When, under the early suns of March or April, she emerged from her furs, and, accompanied by her daughter, consented to descend the boulevard I from the Rue de la Paix to the Madeleine, I the saunterera who drew aside from her path ( with involuntary deference were enabled to form a conception of Parisian elegance in its ■upreine refinement. 'Ihe mother and the daughter, though little accustomed to walking, advanced with a sure, hriuatep, clearing the crowd with a sovereign indifference, and exchanging a word now and then in a crisp, high tone, precisely as if they had been aloue in their own park. Their toilettes, while marvellously adjusted to their respective years, had yet some subtle and charming points of aifiuity ; their notions were iv exquisite accord ; they left behind them in their path a certain perfnme of hot-house flowers ana seemed to purify the asphalt they trod on. Foreign ladies were wont to ■tudy with a jealous eye the dress, the movements and the regal beaiing of these two Pariaiennei traversing their empire, and despaired, not without reason, of reproducing them. Although left a widow in early life, and in all the splendour of her beauty, Madame I Fitzgerald bad succeeded in doubling the cape of maturity with a reputation perfectly intact. Without being armed with principles specially sound or lofty, she posiensei m a consummate degree that religion of the ermine fox aud well-bred women- a horror of stains, bhe apphod to her moral conduct the same tasted and aversions which controlled her in the care of her person. Anything like disorder or defilement was repugnant to her instincts and her habits. Wickedness to her was not merely wickednets, but something worse— an impropiiety. If we must not exaggerate the moral worth of that phase of itntinatnt, neither should we

utideri a'e its dcho-irv or its vi-xctital v,»lue It is the one sole imfeginrd of many women It )R a charm which resembles uriuo i An uncle of her husband, Count; Patrick I Wz^eiil'l. h<id devoted huanelf with chivalrous ourtpny to the young widow's .-rrvice, and constituted htmielf her guide and pro teotor iv society up to the day when she broui-hb out her daughter. From that moment Count Patrick had returned with satisfaction to his manor of Fresnes, wheie j his ni^ce formed a, habit of passing hereral months of the summer. Here it wai that Madame Fitzgerald, one fine mornioK in July, received an mtereresting communication for which a mysterious missive from the Marchioness had partially prepared her. This matrimonial proposal was received with a degree of rapture hardly disgui«ed by that reserve which the occaiion required. Madame Fitzgerald affected to murmur that her daughter was still young ; that she was scarcely 19, in fact ; that, moreover, she was greatly admired and in a position to make a deliberate choice. But forgetting etiquette, at last, in a gush of maternal tenderneu, she threw her arras around her old friend's neck and burst into te&rs. The fact whi that Lionel de Itias, by his name, his fortune, intrinsic worth and personal attraction I',1 ', was one of those sons-in-law whom mothers love to invoke in dreams. Of course Count Patrick was called into council, and showed himself <qually favourable to the projected match Some days were spent in leisurely chut and in discussing questions of iuteresfc and propriety. The Marchioness was installed in a pleasant country house called the Pavilion, which belonged to her daughter-in-law's brother, and the Pavilion being only a mile or two from Fresnes, they were able, thinks to the informal relations of neighbours, to secure divers private conferences respecting this delicate theme without aiousing the curiosity of Mademoiselle Fitzgerald or interesting her feelings. She might fail to please Lionel, or Lionel might fail to pleise her. It was therefore of t\ c utmost importance to spare her an excitement certainly preauture, and, at all events, unbecoming a young lady. While the elder relatives were engaged in these discussions, it devolved on young Madame de Lauris to entertain Marie, and she performed the ta*k most conscientiously, being herself ton prudent and disoeet to tell tales ou l^ of school In this way they had reached the day fixed for the firat meeting of the two young people, w h tl.e delightful certainty that Mademoiselle Marie would encounter that test with head aad heart free from all embarrassment. No precaution, however, w-»s n> glected to divest the interview of any formal character, aid give it the aspect of an impromp ai affair. Although a visit of M. de ttias to his godmother, occurring among numerous arrivals and departures, was in itself perfectly na'ural, the following notes, conceited beforehand, were exchanged between the P^vil-oa and the Manor-house of Fresues duriug the morning of that memorable day : MADAME DX LA VEVLK TO AIAD UIE FITZGERALD My Dear olariisa : Don't count on us for dinner to day — some guests have juafi airived by train. They are delightful people, it is trm, but they*inight have ohoson a better day, or at )« a3t forewirned me. I detest surprispi, howerar agreeable. Sincere regrets, my dtar.

MADAME FITZGERALD TO MA.DYME DE LA VHYLK. Bring your delightful people with you, my d -ar friend, Only tell me how many, ao that I nny arrange my table. A thousand kisses.

MADAME DE LA VEYLIS TO MADAME FITZGERALD. My delightful people, dearest, consist of oae It is my godson Lionel de Kias, but I can't leave htm to dine alone and I can't bring him with me. Ha only came for a day. and brought no dress-coat. Despairingly, yours.

MADAME FIT/OIRELD TO MADAJIE DE LA VKYLE. My Dear : Bring Monsieur de Kias us he is. My uncle will wear a uiorniutj-coat to put htm at his case. Come early, aud we'll taLe • itroll. Yours for eyer.

MADAME DJ£ LA VEYLE TO MADAME FITZGERALD. It is all arranged then, dear. We will come to you about 3 o'clook — that is, the General, Louise and I. As for Monsieur de ilias, he has some calls to pay ia the neighborhood. But he has taken onoof the General's horses, and will join us about six. Madame Fitzgerald was careful to submit to her daughter each iiem of this astute correspondence, and had reason to congratulate herself on the absolute indifference with which Mademoiselle Marie followed its vicissitudes. That evening, nevertheless, about half after hve, a young girl might have been aeen walking alone along the terrace of a park which commands the road from Melun to Fontainebleau. From time to time she checked her swift, ligbtstep, seemed to catch some far-off sound, and leaned forward over the road through one of the arched openings in the thick curtain of vines that fringed the terrace. Then she would recommence her walk, falling unconsciously into the bounding step that women have when about to glide into a waltz. Just as she had decided to risk another furtive glance through one of the green arches she drew abruptly back and let fall a murmured word between lips half opened by a dieamy smile. There could be heard distinctly on the dry, hard road the crisp yet supple step of one of those blood steeds commonly reserved for ridera of distinction. The young girl, still smiling, hid herself from /iew, and j with a trembling hand contrived a tiny loodhole in the wall of foliage. As the horseman passed she scanned him with an interest so keen that her very breathing teemed suspended. For the tirat time she beheld Monsieur do Ilias, with his quiet elegance, virile grace, and his delicate, proud features just theu rendered somewhat pate by excitement. When the horseman had passed she sighed, fastened her bright blue eyes a moment on < the sky, then dropping them slowly downward whispered two words, 'My husband 1' At the novel sound her face grew rosy and she was fain to over it with her hands and remain motionless an mutant, not unlike some Btatue of modesty ; after which Mademoiselle Fitzgerald retraced with hasty »tcp the path leading to the manor. She found them waiting for her with great impatience, for, to the despair of the old Marchioness, Monsieur de Rus had already entered the court. ' Where in the world is Marie?' she went on repeating to Madame Fitzgerald, who was posted beside her at one of the drawing room windows. ' Lionel looks so well on horseback. I had planned to have her see him for the first time in all hii glory — for first impressions, you know, are vital — but here he has arrived, and our little girl is not to be found. I call it a downright calamity.' ' Mv dear MarchioDess,' replied Madame Fitzgerald, 'you know we were particularly anxious that Mane should couceive no suspicion. Besides, I think your god sou quite as attractive on foot «■ m the saddle. So we hav§ lost nothing ' When Mademoiselle Marie condeicerded to appear in the drawing-room, she found Monsieur de Kias already acolimated, and ■eourely lodged in the good graces of Madame

Fitzgerald and Count Patnck. The younjj i>.»n wa* duly presented to htr, bat she re pied to his profound bow with m inclination of the head so slight and negligent as to verge upon imperticience Lionel was a little sur prißed, hid good Jooks commonly insuring him better treatment from the sex, and wan fain fco Attribute hii cool reception to some fault of h'B own. By dint of torturing his imagination ha fancier! that be had hit on it. Madimo de la Veyle had shown him hei diplomatic correspondeuce of tho morning, and while he approved the general tone, he had deemed the point about bis clothes rather a mistake. He conceived the idpa that Mademoiselle Fitz.eraW, herself an expert in et'quette, had been quite shocked at the crenmstance, and that a man who could run about from country-hou*e to country-house without an evening coat, had appeared to her a ridiculous creature. This chimera, you observe, was quite worthy of a lover. But was Lionel in love already ? Indred hfl was, and that, too, before he saw Mademoiselle Fitzgerald, for although in men of hia yeara the unknown world of marriage awakens some secret torres, thero is at least in that unknown world one luminous point, one charm at once novel and substantial, which exerts a potent fascin&tion. J mean the perspective of a species of love, and if I m»y venture to say so, of pleasure, such as their previous life, however rich in j sensations of fch« kind, hag never known, It is the mirage, if y,m iikt», of some pure fountun wherein the tired heart and exhiu-,ted , Benses may plunge and renew their you*h as in ba'hs of refreshing dew It is, in short, that ideal image of a young being, immr ulate | as Pygmalion's marble, whoso virgin bosom reserves for them its m liden blmh. Having bpen for some time thoroughly in Inve with Hie aforesiid winsome vision, Monsieur de Ilia"? fouod it ensy to fall in lovo with Mademoiselle Fitzgerald, who seemed to him its most charming incarnation. She was in truth a very nrptty, graceful creature, lithe and supple, with the air of some wood nymph scarcely tairrd, and glorious blue eves beneath btown eyebrows But it struck Lionel that the marble did not kindle at his touch with the responsive quickness of his dreams. Mademoiselle Mane's demeanor during dinner completed his mortification. Had he been the parish prießt she could not have shown moro inuifforenne to his presence. She appeared tr>nquil and absent minded, chatting now and then with her cousin Louise in a cheerful, quiet vein, and replying to Lionel's questions with careltss courtesy. It was not long before tho young ladv't attitude alarmed the old Marchioness herself, experienced as ihe was in all the wiles of her aex. On leaving the table she took her daughter-in-law aside. 'Louise, my darling,' said she, ' all goes smoothly in one quarter ; Lionel is fascinated, plainly enough, but that little girl perplexes me. Try to find out what she thinks— without showing your hand, of course.' A moment after the two young cousins were seen running and chasing one another like two school girls seross the flower-beds which adorned the courtyard in front of the manor. All at once Madame de Lauris, halting quite out of breath near one of the open Windows, made her mother in-law a sign, ' Mamma,' she said, 'set your mind at ease. She hasn't *aid a word, but I feel sure she has gueßßed evarythmg and is taken with him, for she is kissing mo every minute ' Meanwhile, however, thp Paris ti am would be due at 9 o'clock, and Lionel, being ci n strained, in order to carry out the programme, to sot out that very evening, was pr?piring to return to tbe Pavilion, which was only some step* distant from the station. His horse w»n brought to him in the couityard. It was a rather lively baib who performed a curvet or two and some coquettish tossinga of the head, sweeping the gravel with his long crinkle i mane. Strange to say, Mademoiselle Marie appeared to know him, called him by his name, Sahib, soothed him with voice and hand, and regaled him with green leaveß. She ended with bestowing on him a big rose which she pulled with a laugh from Madame do Lauris' belt. These attentions, extremely grateful to the horse, were even more so to his rider.

(To be continued.)