CHAPTER XIX.

Waikato Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2054, 5 September 1885, Page 5 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XIX.

A EREiM BY THE SEA. The wedding was over ; the Duke and Duchess of Claverdon had tnken their departure for Hever Court, where the honeymoon was to be spent, and many of the guebts were preparing for departnre. Lady Pierpont, after muoh pressing, had consented to stay until the Fwday following ; she had made a great favor of it. "We ought to be at Steele Castle," she said ; " but sine» you are so very kind, Lady Waldrove, and dear Ethel is enjoying herself bo muoh, I think we will remain; but we must positively go on Friday." They had been so happy together— the man who had married so imprudently, and the beautiful belle for whom marriage was expected to do so muoh. It had been a summer idyl, a summer poem; they had lingered together in the sweet, fragrant gloaming, together they had listened to the ohanting of the star-lit sea; they had ridden through gM€n-shaded lanes, and, sending the horsei home, they lingered on tho mosiy banks and in the green meadows; they had walked through the cool, shaded depths of the green woods, listening to the bird's song, happy with a deep, silent happiness neither of them quite understood. Lady Ethel raised her beautiful face to his one morning as she said : " I cannot imagine why it ifl, but this summer seems to me the fairest I have seen yet. I never remember the sunshine so bright, or tha flowers so sweet." fc He drank in the beauty and witchery of those lovely eyes before he answered. " I oan say just the same thing," he replied ; " I never remember a summer half so fair." Together they lingered in the beautiful conservatories, in the flower-gardens, in the long picture-galleries, and the magnificent saloons ; together they sang and danced— had talked until they knew each other'B thoughts and ideas better than though they had lived for years together. He had begun to realize what he was doing to know that the sweet witchery, the glamour falling over him, was all love— to realize that he lived only in hor presence, and that without her life was all orse great, teiribje blank— to realize that he loved her with the one great love, the one great passion of his life, before which all others paled and grew dim. Not at firßt ; at first her beauty ulruck him as the bpauty of woman had never done before — he thought her the loveliest acd fairest, he admired ber as he would have done tho Venus of Milo, or the portrait of Beatrice Cenci ; she was a new revelation of beauty to him. Ho fell, without knowing it, from that etato of blind worship into the deepest pit passion ever digs for man. He understood it at latt when a feeling of despair came over him, and he said to himself that ho would give hia very life to kiss her once, even should he then if. It was when that thought oame over him that he realized for the first time how he loved her — how madly, how blindly, how deeply bo loved her. lie had never trtrablfd at a woman's soft touch before; now, if hi* hand touched hers, if her dress touched him in pa^ein", if, as he bent over her to read or to Hint', th-? r er ' umo from her hair or her dress reached him, he trembled like a strong tr?e s^aj mii in a storm. Tbm he Knew what he had done, and how hia lifo WtT3 ruined and blighted by that one false notion of honor. He did not say to himMf this timp lint it was for honor's Babe ; that Mcii had q'utri ceased to comfort him. Up loved her, and the next thing was to fly fur from her -to n° where the witchery of her f<tce would novtr set his heart on fire again ; to go 'a here hc-r voice would never reach him. It wou'd be better, he thought, to die than to linger here. He had no fear for her— she laughed, talked, lUnced, jostul, and Bang ; her beautiful face wns hi way « bright ; the delicate, haughty lips interpd repartees and witticisms that amused all who heard thorn ; the dark, luminous eyes vmlillfcd with the poetry of deep thought. She was fo worshipped, so sought after, so beloved—there was no fear for her. He remembcrid how hia mother had warned him not to look on her beauty with longing eyes, for u cwld never be his. Ho was doing her do irijujy ; oho, who had mad« so many brilli'ini conquests, she would never care about him. Ai for hiumlf — well, they allowed % condemned criminal e\en to linger for a few days ; they allowed a man who was to die on the

morrow to look at thp aun wKls V c,i \i , they allowed a dying man to take n last look at the faces he loved. So why should he not linger by her eide until the Friday came on whioh she was to leave? It would not hurt her, and it wai his last gleam of happiness ; then he would go away to Gibraltar, perhaps die there. What would it matter ? Lite was no longer sweet for him since it did not hold Lady Qbhel. He drank his cup •! poison slowly, surely, knowing ft wan poison— knowing that it would dastroy him, yet unable to put down the fatal cup. which, when once tasted, clinge to the lips. He counted tbe hrfnrs until the noon erf Friday, as men o»unt tea hours before execution. H« was so absorbed in his love, bo completely ptßßesetd by the idea that, even had he been free, ker beauty was not for him, th*t He never d**ai»ed of ianger for her. They had walked down to the Bhore one beautiful evening, when the wind was still, and the stars shining on the sea. They stood together on the sands While the waves came Folltng-rn, and bTroko into a thousand star lit ripples'&t their feet. Ho stooped and raised some of the salt water in his hand. "I wonder/* he said, " if you will think of me when you watch the sea ? " " Certainly I shall," she replied. " You do not suppose that I forget my friends so easily, do you ? " "Am I your friend, Lady Ethel ? Ah 1 you have bo many friends. Tho moon shines on many brooks ; the brooks see but one moon. You are the moon, and I am only one of the brooks." She laughed the gay, lippjkig laugh that etiired his pulses like street wine. " I think," nhe replied, " that you are a very favored brook. It seema to me that 1 shine, ac you express it, a great deal upon you." " Yea ; but the light will soon be withdrawn," he said, Badly. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with love and laughter. She liked him exceedingly. " Dj you not know what to do if you want tho light?" she asked. "You must follow it." "But its rays are shifting, Lady Ethel; they never fall long in the same place." " You cannot tell that, Lord Carsdale," sho replied; and the thought to herself how strange it was — she had never shown so ranch fiindncss to any man before, and yet he did not peem to understand it. " I have phown him so many nyxrkg of favor," ehe thought to herself, " and yet he doeg not "eem to know it." "~I shall never see the soa, either in sunliyht or in moonlight," he continued, " without thinking ef you ; and when the stars chine on it, m they are shining now, I shall see your face with that "imc smile on it, the Baine light in your eyes, the wave of your hair —I ohall see yon, and call you in my thoughts 4 My dream by the sea.' " " Shall I always be a droam, then ?" she aike«. "You fye&k, Lord Carsdale, as thongh you were k°5 d o to bid mo aw eternal farewell." "So I am,'' be thought fo himself ; to her he said rioaply, "I am going te Gibraltar, as you know, Lvly Ethol." " I'ou are going because you choosoto go," she said; "you can do ja.it as yeu like. If you prefer to remain in England, you can remain. Besides, Gibraltar is not very distant, and you can come homo when you like." There were a few minutes of dead eilenoe, while the tide rippled in slowly and tbe stars gleamed in the water. In that moment, had he been free, he would have a«ked her to msrry him, and she would have consented ; but the waves rippled on, the stars shone, the wind whispered, and still he spoke no word. That silence became painful at last ; then he tried to break the spell— only Heaven knew what the effort cost him. " I shall oomo baok in the course of years, I suppose," he said, trying to "peak lightly ; " but tho years bring great changea. You, for instance, Lady Ethol, now you are free from all lies, then you wjll be the wife of porno grand earl or duke, one of the firat ladies in the land; and you will have forgotten that we ever stood together to watch the t?tp.r3 shining on the sea." "Do you wiah me to remember it, Lord Carsdale?" she asked. He bit his lips and clenched h:a hands to hold down the hot, passionate words that seemed to spring »rom hii hoart to his lips ; he did not know what answer to make her ; he was at a staridfltill, bo remained silent. " Do you not think," Fho conlinued, " that you are begging the question ? " "Perhaps I am," he said, gravely. You have no more rijjht to suppose that I Bhall have married a duke or an eirl than I have to think that you will have married a duchess or a countesi." "I am quite sure I shall not have done tliat," he replied. " Then why do yeu say I shall have done it ?" Then he heard plainly tho annoyance in her voice, and looking into her beautiful face, he saw by,the light of the stars that it was pale and shadowed with somotbing like pain. She spoke as though he had vexed her. " I mean nothing more than this, Lady Ethel, that you are so oourteel, so beautiful, so beloved, you are sure to marry while I am away ; it is not likely that you will remain single all that time." " Oh, that is what you mean, Lord Carsdale. May I ask if you suppose that lam in any great hurry to marry?" Slw spoke so coldly, so proudly, that he looked at her in wonder. "Lady Ethel," he said, "I ara offending you, I am displeasing you, though I cannot for the world tell why. lam so sorry — forgive me. I have unintentionally done wrong. You know that I would rather die than displease you." " I know nothing of tho kind," said the petulant young beauty; "I only know what is quite true, that men are the most stupid creatures in creation. I am sorry to say anything rnde, but it is really true." He looked so astounded at this sudden attaok, that Lady Ethel laughed in spite of herself; and looking up at the lovely face, he saw that the dark eyea were filled with tears. " Lady Ethel, "lie or led, " you are an enigma to me 1 " "Am I ? It is not worth while trying to solve me, then." He took her hand in his ; it was the only time, and the touch of that white, soft hand remained with him for years. " Lady Ethel," be said, " I Seel that in your presence I am but as a slave before a queen. I look up to the heights on whioh you stand, and my eyes are dazzled; you are as far above me as the stars are. lam at a loss what to say to yon, but I oan see that I have most unfortunately offended you, and I grieve for it. Forgive me. It is the laßt time we shall ever watch the stars shining on the sea together ; do not let us quarrel." When he first began to speak her face had flushed, then had grown quite pale ; now it grew paler still. "Wk are not likely to quarrel, Lord Carsdale ; you have said nothing to offend me." " Then why do you oall men stupid ?" he asked. "Oh, because they are so," she replied. 44 And now, Lord Oarsdale, the last gleam of light has died on the waters; we must go home."

Lovn and i:i <nSKT. '• Coop-i:\!;, Lady Ethel," said] the youn« lord, us ho held ov'^ bit* hand to her ia 'acwell. "We will say p,ood by here; b.foro others I oould not Bay it." Hia face paled, hia lips quirerod, his voica was full of pain ; he saw the expression of wonder in her face — an expression that asked : "If you feel leaving me bo acutely, why t *o ?" Her eyes asked the question as plainly as eyes could speak, and he read it there. 41 It cannot matter much where we say good-bye," she said ; "it means about tha same thing in every oase." How ho longed to Rtand still just where they wein, on the shore of that star-lit pea, and tell her the story of his life — toll her of the ra«h, bet headed impulse that had led him to marriage — tha hupul?e that he had believed so firmly to bo honor. How be longed to tell her that this wifo of his was beautiful nnd gofld, yet that while he lived he could not do more than like her ; but for her, tho woman he loved but could never marry, he had a wild, passionate worship that would end only with his life. He longed to tell her how even the picture of her face had taken poc?es,sion of him as nothing else ever had done— how he had loved it before even .he knpw who it was, and how since then he had loved her more and more. He longed to say it, but he knew that not one word of it must pass hia lips, and he stood before her mute and dumb — mute, when he would have given his life to have spoken — dumb, beoauae honor sealed hls.lips. He did not love his wife — he rreter had loved her — he never dreamed of so doing ; bnt he was tco honorable to th^nk even of makipg love to another woman. L*dy Ethel walked on proudly; if he woald not understand, he would not, and there was an end of it. She had said quite enough— she had given him mare encouragement in that one quarter of an hour than she had given to all other admirers, and it had been given in vain. No one wondered that Lady Ethel Pierpont tho proudost girl in England, turned haughtily away. She knew men who would have given their lives for Huoh smiles and s'ich words aa she had lavished on this young lord. " Good-bye tojlho beautiful eea," he said ; " I shall never hear the ripple of sea in other lands without thinking of this." Sho deigned to give him no answer, but turned ftw&y without one word. They walked acres tho firm, golden sand* until the lant glimmer of sea was loßt in the distance. Lady Ethol drew her laco shawl more closely around her shoulders. " You are cold," said Lwl Carsdale, quickly. " I am not cold, or warm, or anything else, excopt anxiou-s to be at home. You rnufet not tempt me to take any more star-lit walks. Wht.t w^l my mother say if she finds it out?" " She would say that yon had clone a very wieo thing to leave those warm rooms for the freshest eca breeze that over blew. There is no fear that I shall tempt you again. Lady Ethel, you forget how soon wo chall be parted." " If I forget it is my own fault— you never weary of reminding me, Lord Carsdale." For that ramble down to the starlit sea had been Lord Carsdale's own anggestion. ll~bcncath was full of visitors ; they had been dancing, and every one was engaged ; he had sought Lady Ethel for a dance, and then, ad they went through the long corridor, he said to her : " It U such a lovely night, I have a great longing to see the stars shining on the sea." Believing that he was merely aeoking an opportunity of saying that which she was quite willing to bear, Lady Ethel replied : " So have I." " Do yoa think," ho aaked, " that you dare venture ? Wo have only to cross the lawn and go through tho coppice ; we should be on the shore in five minutea. Will you go?" no spoke so eagerly, his handsome face all on fire, his eyes flaahing with tho eager, impetuous desire to have her all to himself, if only for a few minutes. She looked at him quickly. " There is nothing muoh to fear," she replied. "If we both havo a fancy lor seeing the stars shining on the water, who is to contradict us ? Yet, all the same, Lord Carsdale, I would rather that no one knew." He found a shawl, and wrapping it round her beautiful white arms and shoulder, wondering as he did so at their perfection of shape and color, they had gone off to the sea together. The result was annoyance to Lady Echel and increased pain to Lord Caradale. They were back again now on the lawn, and Lady Ethel saw there was no further cause for fear ; others were there under the starlight, some standing round the fountains, others sitting where the lime blossoms fell in the bright summor weather. She stopped when she saw that. " There are others as imprudent as ourselves," she said. And Lord Carsdale added : " Without the same excuse." She turned to him impatiently. " What excuse do you mean ? What excuse had we?" He was humble as a child to her. " We wanted to lay farewell, and they have no suoh word to say." (To be continued,)