THE STORY-PELLER.

Waikato Times, Volume XIII, Issue 1028, 25 January 1879, Page 2

THE STORY-PELLER.

WIFJ. IN NAME ONLY. (Continued from Tuesday's issue). CHAPTER XL. 1 Did the Marl of Mountdean seud this himself?' he said te the man. ' Yes, my lord. He bade me ride as though for life, and ask your lordship to hurry in die same way.' 'Is he hurt ? Has there been any accident ? ' ' I have heard of no accident, my lord, but when the Earl came to give me the note he looked quito wild and unsettled.' Lord Arleigh gave orders that his fleetest hunter should bo saddled afc once, and then he rode away, He was so absorbed in thought that more than once he had a narrow escape, almost striking bis head against tho overhanging boughs of the trees. What could it possibly mean ? Lord Mountdean at tho Dower House ! He fancied some accident must have happened to him. He had never been to the Dower House since the niixht wheu he took his young wife thither, and as he rode along his thoughts recurred to that terrible evening. Would he see her now, he wondered, and would sh,o, in her shy, pretty way. advaa^-to meet him ? It could not surelyCtte that she was ill, and that the Earl, having heard of it, had sent for htin. No, that could not be — for. the note had s id that something wonderful had occurred. Speculation was evidently useless— the only thing to be done was to hasten on as quickly as he could, and learn for himself what it all meant. He rode perhaps faster than he had ever ridden in his life before. When he reached the Dower House the horse was bathed in foam. He thought to himself, as he rang the bell at the outer gate, how strange it was that he — the husbandshould be standing there ringing for admittance; 4 servant opened the gate, and, &Q?3

Arleigh asked if the Earl of Mountdean was within, and was told that he waa. 'There is nothing the matter, I hope,' said Lord Arleigh— ' nothing wrong . ' The servant replied that something strange had happened, but he could not tell what it was. He did not think there was anything seriously wrong. And then Lord Arleigh entered the ho«B.e where the years of his young Wftfc had drifted away. Lord Arleigh was shown into the dining-room at Winston House, and stood there impatiently waiting the Earl of Mountdean. He came inat last, but the master of Beechgrove barely recognised him, be was so completely changed. Years seemed to have fallen from him. His face was radiant with a great light. He held out his hand to his friend. 'Congratulate me,' he said. 'I am one of the happiest men in the world.' •What has happened V asked Lord Arleigh, in surprise. ' Follow me/ said the Earl ; and in silence Lord Arleigh obeyed him. They came to the pretty shaded room, and the Earl, entering first, | said — ' * Now, my darling, the hour has como which will repay you for the sorrow of years.' Wondering at such words, Lord Arleigh followed his friend. There lay his beautiful wife, lovelier than ever, with the sunlight touching her hair with gold, here face transparent to the inner leaf of a ros6 — Madaline, his darling, who had been his wife in name only. What did it mean . Why had the Earl led him thither P "Was it wanton cruelty or kindness ? His flrst impulse was to fall on his knees by the little couch and kiss his wife's hands, his second to ask why he had been led thither to be toi tured so. Madaline rose with a glad cry at his entrance, but Lord Mountdean laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. 'Lord Arleigh,' said the Earl, ' tell me who this is.' 'My wife, Lady Arleigh,' he replied. She bent forward with clasped hands. 'Oh, listen, Norman,' she said— ' listen !' j ' You looked upon her as tbe only woman you could love _ you made her your wife ; yet, believing her to be the daughter of a felon, you separated from her, preferring a lifetime of misery to the dishonour of your name. Is it not so, Lord Arleigh ?' ' Yes t ' he replied, 'it is indeed so.' 1 Then now learn the truth. This lady, your wife, is not the daughter of a i convict. In her — how happy the telling of it makes me !— behold my daughter, the child whom for seventeen jears T have sought incessantly — my heiress, Lady Madaline Charlwood, the descendant ol a race as honoured, as ancient, and as noble as your own !' Lord Arleigh listened like one in a dream. It could not be possible, it could not be true ; his senses must be playiag him false — be most be going mad. ' His wife — his deserted wife — the Earl's long-lost daughter ! It was surely a cruel fable. His dark, handsome face grew pale, bis hands trembled, his lips quivered like a woman's. He was about to speak, when Madaline suddenly sprang forward and clasped her arms around his ueck. • Oh, my darlihg,' she cried, 'it is true —quite true ! You need not be afraid to kiss me and to love me now— you need not be afraid to call me your wife— you need not be ashamed of me any longer. Oh, my darling, believe me, I am not a thief's daughter. My father is here— an honerable man, you see, not a convict. Norman, you may love me now ; you need not be ashamed of me. Oh, my love, my love, I was dying, but this will make me well.' Her golden head dropped on to Ins breast— the clinging arms tightened their hold of him. The Earl advanced to them. *It is a!l true, Arleigh,' he said. ' You look bewildered, but you need not hesitate to believe it. Later on, I will tell you the story myself, and we will satisfy all doubts. Now, be kind to her; she has suffered enough. 'My love,' said Madaline, 'it seems a happy dream.' When Lord Arleigh looked round again, the Earl had vanished, and he was alone with his fair young wife. Half a hour afterwards, Lord Arleigh and his wife stood together under the great cedar on the lawn. They had left the pretty drawing-room, with its cool shade and rich fragrance, and Lord Arleigh stood holding his wife's hand in his. ' You can really forgive me, Madaline ? he said. 'You owe me no ill-will for all that I have made you suffer ?' She Biniled as she looked at him. « No,' she replied. ' How could there be ill-will between you and me? You did right; in your place, I should have acted as you did.' He caressed the fair, sweet face. ' Thank yon, my darling,' he said. ' How thin you are !' he added. ' How you havo worn yourself away with fretting ! What must I do to bring the roses I ack to this sweet face, and the light that I remember so well to the dear eyes ?' She looked up at him—her whole sold in her eyes. ♦ You have but one thing to do, and that is— love me,' she said, ' and then I shall be the happiest wife in all the world. If a choice were offered me of all the good gifts of this world, mine would be my husband's love.' Lord Arleigh looked thoughtfully at her. The sunshine glistened through the green boughs, and touched her graceful golden head as with an aureole of glory. ' I am beginning to think, he said, ' that all that happens is for the best. We shall be wiser and better all our lives for having < I think so too,' obst>ed Madaline. « And, my darling,' he aaid, * I am quite rv- sure of another .thing. There are many atf.- ffood gifts in the world— wealth, fame, rank, glory,— but the best gift of all is that which comes straight f rem Heaven— the of a pure, good wife.' Looking up, they saw tire-Earl crossing the lawn to meet them. ' 'Madaline,' he said, gently, when he was close to them, ' how rejoiced I am to Bee that look on your face 1 You do not appear to think of dying now,' » Not if I can help it, papa,' she replied.