CHAPTER XVII.

Waikato Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2051, 29 August 1885, Page 5 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XVII.

"onn M" LT.i:, on mm." Time hid Fcemfd very Ion? to Alice. She had hen educated so far nbo\e her etation thit ho re. aHhouch *ho loved it vsry doatly, was almost unendurable to her ; her father's bru a qi ft ne?i »u>'l irntr.bilify, her uiother'd gentfo. constant complaint, were easier to hear than Hfttio's loudncss and vulgarity. Hose was peltlom at homo ; she wag teaching in a fnmily, who likrd her ho well that she receivei constant invitations from their house, B" that, tn (ill intent and purposes, she was alone. The lonelineca wcula not have been so bad to bear but she had yielded her whole heart and °onl to tho passionate lovo that fil'od it. If ehe bad not worshipped her husband so entirely, shp might have been a very happy girl; che had money to do what sho would with— no ono questioned her a<? to her outlay, no ono interfered with her; fcho could pursue her favorite etudiep, she could practice her favorite accomplishment" ; she had full and perfect liberty, yet nhe was nioet unhappy, Like every other iku^htnr of Evo, slu longed for whr.t she hftd not ; ehp was not content with what she had. She wanted her husband's love, and it peemed to her that she might more roaconably long for the moon. He was very Kind to her, very indulcent, in hia carelers, indifferent fashion ; he would pivo her ary thing and everything ; ha wai liberal in all hi<s providing for her; ho hail alway3 admired hrr, nrl-mir.-d her beautiful face, her pjrac?, her abilities but lo\o— she knew, and the knowledge almost killed her, that he had no more idea of loving her tbm be had of killing her. It had never entered her thoughts, and tho girl wore her borirt away vi'.h passionate longin? and wild prayers. Shut up in that gloomy hou'Je in Cecil street, while the others wero all busy, elie epent whole hours in long, deep, silent thought ; she louped for beauty such as women never had, for talent that had never been surpassed, for grac3 such an men worshipped in olden times ; surely, if aha had all these thing 3 ho mnst love her. Then she would go to her glass, and, looking at it, wonder at the great beauty of tho face mirrored there. " It it BtrRERO that he does not love me," she thought, "for I am paaeiDg fair." Sho knew, she was quick enough to understand, that love such as she felt had never even entered his mind or heart. She was very unhappy ; it seemed to her that this marriage, which had at firfit appeared so grand and wonderful, had in reality epoiied her life, rnnrreil it completely. Against her will thoso words of Sliakcnpearo returned to her : " A young man mariied is a man that's marred." If that was true, what could b3 said of a young woman mairied, yet never seeing or hearing from her husband : Shakespeare mifiht hr.ye been puzzled to find words for Biieh a oaso. There wrro times when ehe was tempted to wifih that tho marriasc had never taken place— that he had left her to bear the conseqncncs of that one happy day ; it would have bn n n easier to betir than this being married and foigotten. She thought, and pondered, and puzzled over it. How would it end ? He had been very kind ; he had settled a hundred per annum on her poor, haidworking father; ho had settled ft most liberal and handforno income on herself. Then hn had gone away to his own friends, and, an it appeared, had forgotten her. How would it end? He wa3 Roing abroad Boon. Would hn leave her here? Would sumini r suns rise and fle t_would flowers bloom and fade--wbjlo oho lived herp, wearing out her heart v/ith sighing for him? She wrote to him, but ber letters were stiff and constrained ; she did not daro to express what sho felt ; her whole being wai absorbed in her lovs for him— of that love ehe dare not speak, ro that her letters did not give her any ureat amount oJ eomforfc. He seldom answered thtra ; when he did po, he wrote kindly, otuelersly, iudiflerently, neve: upeaking of himself, but always of what sho wanted. " I could not bear it always," she thought; 11 it would drive me mad." While the beautiful yonug wife wore h^r heart and her h f e away, Lord Carsdalo wits busily occupied — thp weeks had flown, as it seemed to him. He had received hi* commission, he hnd been appointed captain oE the Queen's Ovvn Eoyal Rangers, und tho llojal liangora were ordered to Gibraltar in October. '•You will Fee jour sister married before you go ?" said Lady Waldrove. "I am much pleased, Vivian." For himself ho was delighted ; he had longed to Fpend a few years at least in the army, and Gibraltar was one of the most pleasant of military stations, bo that ho was altogether well pleased. His wife— well, of course, she would be happy enough ; he would leave her to take her chance. She could either remain with the family at Eudeswell or have 'a nice lit^o houso of her own. He bad quite given up all idea of over telling his parents the story of his marriage. Since he had been at home ho hnd seen und understood so thoroughly the difference between Ailie's frianda and bis own that ho realized how useless it would bo to attempt to bring about any common lunders^andint? between them. While his parents or either of them lived, his marriage must be kept a dead eecret; when they lived no longer, find tho knowledge of it could not pain them, he might perhaps publish it to tho whole world. It never occurred to him that in thu3 noting he was doing bio wife the leant wrong ; he had given her tho shelter of a homo ; he had placed her in eaiy circumstances ; he had provided for her friends ; ho hid surrounded her with comfort ; and ho did not realize that a living, passionate, beating human heart wanted raoio than that. " Give nia love, or hate I" hia young wife would cry, in her wild dreams— " love that burns, Imto that kiilti— anything rather than this cruel, kind indifference." Lord Carad&io did not think very much about hf r ; the glow of heroism had a little fadad, now ho had realized what ho had done; he bad kept the whole nftair aa much out of his thoughts ns possible ; and then can?o the weddinß, with all its pomp, its ceremony, an'i grandeur. The Countetn of Waldrove had said that her dauphter'H wedding should bo a ceremony not eo.'ily forgotten m tho county, find aho was quite ri^ht. It never was forgotten ; all Engl md Hcemol to bo looking on. The number of ];m«entß exhibited in tho great hall was something marvellous ; tho fashionable pipera wore filled with descriptions of tbo hud<il costumes, tho bridal gifts, the repfttiri/ of the Clftvcrdon diamonds — in faofc, tho Himation was .13 groat as though the wedding were a royal ono ; there waa nothing elrio talked about. Tho leading journ&ln sent down special reporters, und tho heart of Lucia, Couutosß of Waldrove, beat high with grateful prido. The guests invited wero to arrive- one day before tho evo of the wedding-day, ho thai all bhnuld bo tented and look their best. Lady Waldruve said nothing to her son, but fcho knew by inntinct with whnt impatienca ho was awaiting the arrival of tho Pierpontfl. At tho larft moment tho earl him v lf wan disappointed— Bomo important government business prevented him from attending. Lady Pjerpont and Lady Ethel canio alone. Lord Car«dale was in the billiard-room when they arrived ; ho heard the sweep of the carriage round the grand drive. ; ho heard the commotion of tho arrival. " Who is it ? * he asked ot L*\dy Linda.

" I "h'ttild fancy it is the Pkrponts," sho iei'li'j.l. Hid faca grow 'palo with some Kind of emotion, he hirrlly know what — whether it was fhAr, wond<T, awe — he did not undorstind hiDTjclf. 11* waa to sec her at last, lbc"\ this mar\ellous beauty, whom his mother thought Ko(l>ishly of — he wai to sco her. Ho roso hurriedly. " Wo bmi better go and help mj mother to reciv.} tbpm," ho enid. Lady Linda laughoL No ; that will not do, Vivian ; great beauties like Lady Ethel do not oaro to be seen in travelling costume— that is undorstood. You will see her for the first time in somo marvellous combination of silk and laco that will astonish you. " Wait until you rccoive a state summons." He did wait, but it was in a fever of impatience. He could not play. Tho Duke of Chverdcn laid down hii cue. 41 A man requires his wits about him for billiards, Vivian," he said; " your's are gono." Lady Linda looked up with a quiet smilo into her brother's faco. 41 1 understand," she said, quietly ; 44 it is of no u?e, Vivian." Ho gave up all attempts at playing, and went out into tho grounds, wondering what had corae over him. " 1 shall make a gi-and foldier," ho said to hiraseH. " I may have to faco a regiment wnh drawn swords, and I am afraid to faoo a young girl who 39 only weapons aro her beautiful eyes." Ho waited patiently enough, but tho expected summons did not como ; tbon his heart sank again, so little did he understand the maDa'Uvring of women of the world. He thought to himself " evidently Lady Pierpont does not include me in her list of eligible men, or sho would be in a greater hurry to intro duce me to her daughter." The dinner-bell rang, and as yet there wa<s no summons for him. There was to bo a grand dinner-party that evening at Roseneath ; the bride-maids and visitors all assembled in full force ; most of tho influential country people were invited, and dinner was prepared in the grand banqueting-hall. The costly family plate was all laid out — there had not for many long yearn been anything seen like it in Itoieneaih. As Lord Carsdalo was crossing the hall he met tho countess, who looked highly pleased and delighted, " Our visitors are all hero, Vivian," she said. l( Havo you seen Lady Pierpont yet?" " No ; nor her daughter," he replied. 14 True ; lam forgetting. Lady Pierpont seemed tired with her journey, and went at once to hor room. L*dy Ethel went with her. I will introduco you in the drawingroom before dinner ; there is the second bell — I am late." Lord Carsdale was almost first in the draw-ing-room ; he saw many visitors, and had to greet many old friends, but tho one face he longed to sco had not appeared. Suddenly the drawing-room door opened, and by the Duddcn Btillnes3 that came over tho groups scattered in that vast saloon he knew that she had entered. It must have been a sense ol foreboding that alarmed him. Sho was there, and yet, much as ho had longed to sec her, ha turned uway and crossed the room to greet an old fripnJ whom ho saw thero. 41 Wiiat a coward I am," ha said. " I desp;po mypelf." So ho did, yet he did not find tho courago to look, at her. Ho felt, rather thau knew, that his mother was seeking him; he purposely evaded her ; then wondered at hitneelf and what he was doing — wondered at his own weakness. 11 Vivian," he heard Lvly Waldrove say, 11 1 am pursuing you liko a will-o'-the-wisp ; one moment jcu are here, tho next you arc gone. I want you— l wanfc to introduco you to Lady Ethel Pierpont. My drar boy, how very palo you look ; are you ill ? " His pale face frightened her. Ho laughed carelessly. 44 111, mother? No. What a strange idea. I am perfectly well." " You look pale and strange," said the counteep. 41 Your fancy, mother." And then they crossed tho room toother, the mother leading the son to hia fate.