THE STORY-TELLER.

Waikato Times, Volume XII, Issue 978, 28 September 1878, Page 2

THE STORY-TELLER.

WIFE IN NAME ONLY. By the author of " Doha Thokne," "On Her Wedding Mobn," " REDEEMED DV LOVE," "A WOMAN'S "Wab," &c. &n. (Continued from last Saturday's issue). 1 CHAPTER XXX. One of the firsi questions after bis return that the Duke of Hazlewood put to his wife was about Lord Arleigh. She looked at him with a careles smile. 'Am I my brother's keeper? 1 she asked. • Certainly not, Philippa ; but, considering that Arleigh has been as a brother to you all these years, you must take some interest m him. Is this story of his marriage true ?' • True ?' she repeated. ' Why, of course it is— perfectly true ! Do you not know whom he has married ?' 1 1 am half afraid to ask— half afraid to find that my suspicions have been realised.' 1 He has married my companion,' said the Duchess. ' I have no wish to blame him ; I will say nothing.' • Ifc is a great pity that he ever saw her,' observed the Duke, warmly. • From all I hear, the man's life is wrecked.' ' I warned him,' said Philippa, eagerly. ' I refused at first to introduce her to him. I told him that prudence and caution were needful.' ' How came it about then, Philippa ?' The Duchess shrugged her shoulders. ' There is a fate then, I suppose, m these things. He saw her one day when I was out of the way, and, according to his own account, fell m love with her on the spot. Be that as it may, he was determined to marry her.' J 'It seems very strange,' said the Duke of Hazlewood, musingly. • I have nerer known him to do anything ' queer' before.' 1 He can never sar that I did not warn him,' she remarked, carolossly. But it was such a wretohed marriage for him. Who was she, Philippa ? I have never made many inquiries about her.' ' I would really rather not discuss the question,' said the Duchess j'ithas no interest for me now. Norman and I have quarrelled. In all probability we shall uover be frieuds again,'

1 All through this marriage P' interrogated the Duke. I All through this marriage,' repeated his wife— '.and I know no subjeot that irritates me so much. Please say no more about it, Vere.' I 1 should like to know who the girl is, he urged.' V You have never told me.' , • I shall be jealous of her m a few minutes I'exclaimedPhilippa. ' Already she has sundered an old friendship that I thought would last for ever ; and now, directly you return, you can talk of no one else.' ' I should like to see you jealous,' said the Duke, who was one of the most unsuspicious of men; She smiled ; yet there came to her a sharp, bitter memory of the night on the balcony when she had been jealous ot the ideal woman, the unknown love whom Norman had sketched for her. The Duke, however, was pertinacious ; he could not give up the subject: ' You told me,' he resumed, ' that she was tho daughter of an old friend of youra named Dornham— and it seemß to me, Philippa, that I have some kind of remembrance of that name which is far from pleasant.' With an air of resignation the Duchess rose from her seat. 'I am tired, Vere.' she Baid, •quite tired of the subject. Yefc I ought not to be Belfish. Of course the incident is all new to you— you have been away from all kinda of news ; to as it is an old worn-out story. I ord Arleigh and I quarrelled and parted because of hia marriage, bo you may imagine it is not a very attractive subject to me.' • Well I will say no more about it, but lam sincerely eorry Philippa. Of all our friends, I like Lord Arleigh beßt ; and I shall decidedly refuse to quarrel with him. Hia marriage is his own affair, not mine.' ' Still, you cannot make a friend of the man whom I decline to know/ Bhe rejoined, hurriedly. ' Certainly not, if youplace the matter m such a light,' he SBid, gravely. «I shall always consider it my pleasure and duty to consult you on such pointß. I will call no man my friend whom you dislike.' So, for the time, the danger was tided over; the Duke saw that the subject annoyed his wife, an 4 did not voluntarily resume it. He waß too true a gentleman to think of discussing with another lady what he did nob discuss \ ¥ ith his own wife, so that the subject was not men* tioned between Lady Peters and himself. Then for the fair young Duchess of Hazlewood began the new life which had mit no old friend. If she repented of her vengeance, she did not say so. If Bhe would fain have undone her evil deed, she never owned it. But, as time wore on, people saw a great change m her. She gave herself more to the gaieties and follies of tho world ; there were few fashions which she did not lead, few gay purtmits m which Bhe did not take an active part. The character of her beauty too, seemed changed. She had always been brilliant, but somewhat of a straage unrest came into her face and manner ; the dark eyes seemed to be always looking for something they could not find. Her mind, though charming and fascinating as ever, grew variable and unsteady. She had always, boen too proud for coquetry ; she remained so now. But Bhe no longer shunned and avoided all flattery and homage ; it seemed rather to please her than not, And -greatest change of all — the name of Lord Arleigh never crossed her lip 3. He himself had retired from public life ; the great hopeß formed of him were ail dying away. Men spoke of him with mystery, women with sad, gentle interest ; those who had known him knew him no more. He did not return to Beechgrove ;it seemed to him that he could never again endure (he Bight of the place where ha had separated from his wife— that hia ancient home ha-1 been m some measure desecrated. The mansion was left m charge of Mrs Chatterton, whose wonder at the new and straDge state nf thinga never ceased. ' Such a marriage !' She held up her hands m horror as she thought of it. Indeed to her the event appeared like a wedding and funeral on the same day. She bad not seen Lady Arleigh since, yet she never forgot the Hir, lovely young face that had shone for so Bhort a time m the grand old home. Lord Arleigh saw that his wife had everything needful for her ; he settled a large income on her j he sent from London horses, carriages, everything that her heart could desire ; he saw that-she had a proper household formed. Whatever cUe the worli might say, it could not say that he showed hf-r any want of respect or any want of attention. Lord Arleigh did not live with his wife, never visited her, never spoke of her ; but it was quite clear that his motive for doing none of these things lay deeper than the world knew or could even guess. The family solicitor went down to Winston House occasionally, but Lord Arleigh never. The few who met him after his marriage, found him strangely altered. Even his face had changed ; the frank, honest, op« n look that had once seemed to defy and challenge and meet the whole world had died away; he looked now like a man with a secret to keep— a secret that had taken his youth from Mm, that had taken the light from his life, that had shadowed hi^eyeß, drawn hard lines of care round his lips, wrinkled his face, taken the muaio from his voice, and made of him a changed and altered, a sad, unhappy man. There were one or two intimate friends — friends who had known him m his youth — who ventured to ask what this secret was, who appealed to him frankly to make his trouble known, telling him that Eorrow shared was sorrow lightened j but with a sad smile he only raised his head and answered that his sorrow was one of which he could not speak. Sometimes a kindly woman who had known him as boy and man — one with daughters and sons of her own— would ask him what was the nature of hfs sorrow. He would never tell. 'I cannot explain,' he would reply. Society tried hard to penetrate the mystery. Some said that Lady Arleigh, was insane, and that he had not discovered it until the. afternoon of bis wedding.day. Others said that she had a fierce temper, and that he was unaware of it until they were travelling homewards. It was said that he had discovered some great orime that she had committed. Few believed such stories ; Lord Arleigh, they declared, was not the man to make so terrible a mistake. .Then, after a time, all the sensation and wonder died away ; society accepted the fact that Lord. Arleig-h was unhappily married, and hail separated from his wife. Ho Avent abroad, and then ho returned homo, .sojourning at qiiiet wateringplaces where he thought his story and himself would be unknown. Afterwards, he went to Normandy, and tried to lose tho reinombrauoo of his troubles m his soaroli after the picturesque. But, when he had done everything- that he ooulcl to relieve his distress of mind, he owned' to himself that lie was a most miserable man.