CHAPTER L.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2197, 7 August 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER L.

A WEDDING. The next morning George was roused by hearing merry peals of bells ringing from several of the principal churches in town. I What can it be for f he wondered, turning lazily round, and the next moment remembered it was probably in honour of the marriage of the rich man Laura Clayton was to wed. , 'They have got a fine moruing,' he thought, with a momentary feeling of bitterness in his heart. He could not have defined this feeling, yet it was there. It was one of those vagus, chill regrets, which pass in and out of our hearts, leaving but little mark, and whose existence in after time we forget and deny. He was not in love with Laura Clayton, but he had admired and respected her, and to his mind she came down from her pedestal at the sound of her wedding bells— at the sound of the bells rung for a loveless marriage — rung for a bargain between youth and age — between beauty and wealth— between a handsome, noble young woman, and a feeble, sick, broken old man. I 1 wish her joy,' thought George, and he got up, and as he dressed himself he moralised on the deceit and vanity of the world. Meanwhile in Windsor-street, the bride ■was adorning herself for tbe altar. Laura was so handsome that she scarcely needed the magaifictent diamonds, with which the lavish and overflowing hand of the bridegroom had endowed her. But she knew, as she fastened them round her white throat, that they added to her position and sneuess in tbe eyes of those who stood by and admired. She was- a clever woman, and estimated aright the feelings and impressions she inspired. She had not always worn white satin, or trod the smooth paths of wealth. She did not in her heart quite respond to the affectionate overtures she was now receiving from her six fair bridesmaids; or to the sycophant flattery with which her brother-in-law had recently so copiously given her. She knew What it all meant, and remembered with a smile and a sigh the time when she was requested to sit all day in the close little back schoolroom, instructing her nephew and neice, and when her sister thought an old silk dre3s turned was ' good enough for poor Laura. 1

' But it was all ended now. , All her past life— all her struggles— her poverty, and reproach. She was about to be mar* rjed to Mr Feel, the richest man- in the county, and her sister and, friencls, and the, little world around her, courted her, and respected her accordingly. She did not respect herself. She lovod well the world's good name, but she had loved other things besides. She thought of George Manners as she stood there, gorgeous and beautiful ; thought of him, and knew what he would think of her. Knew that he would despise her, and that if even the tie she was about to knot were broken, that he would never love her now. ' He will judge me by my acts,' she thought sorrowfully, 'not by my long endurance of what he would not have borne a day. But what man can know aright a woman's heart, or, dream of the petty insults which a poor girl must ever ldarn to bear 2' And Laura , sighed deeply, and then went on with her mflgnjficient toilet. f •Mr dearest Laura, are you ready ?'-> cfcied Mr Mounsey, in a tremendous fuss, rapping at her bedroom door. * The car-, > riages are driving up, and I sent James , down to- the .church, and Peel is -there, afid Colonel Bouverie and Huglvhav-e gone . dbwn to join them, and we are only waiting for yon.' I '-In a moment,' said Laura, quietly ; and she walked up to the fire which was blaziug'in her room, holding something in; her hand. . ♦ Good-bye, George,' she said, ' goodbye for ever,' aud she pressed her lips for a, moment to theenvelope she held, which contained George Manners' portrait, and then flung both into the flames. 'I could have loved him well,' she thought, ' but it was not to be— was not to be;' and then giving one parting glance at her glass, she walked slowly down stairs, and was received with quite an ovation by her brother-in-law and the I rest of the assembled wedding guests, ■ In a few minutes she found herself in ' the church, which was decorated for the occasion with flowers and flags-.; then in a sort-of dream she was standing, at the* altar, and a shaking, feeble, hot, fat hand, was holding hers. • - ■ 1 I Thomas, take th«e, Laura, to be my wedded wife.' The sun was shining on the old man's whibe head as he thus plighted hia, troth ; shining, and showing the -marks; of the stealthy hand which had but lately struck | him sore, and which now perhaps, was hut waiting near, for a surer aud deadlier , aim. , > j ' Till death us do part,' said the bride ; and some of the wedding guests who stood a little back (Mr Hindmarch among j the number) mude a wager on the spot, that in six months Laura would be free, i But they were wedded ; and the < bells rang out, and the guns were fired,, and the feast was spread ; just as if two who loved each other— two who hand-in-haud were about to make life's pilgrimage sweeter — about to share its troubles and pleasures —^bout to begin a newer, purer, and better life, had been wedded then. People crowded round, and kissed and congratulated the bride. Men shook the bridegrooro'a shaking hand, and told him lie was a lucky fellow, and then helped him into the carriage by fair Laura's side, while the crowd at the church-door cheered and tittered—cheered when lucky enough to catch the glittering gold and silver which was freely flung around ; and tittered if empty -handed when the carriages drove away. ; lls he her grandfather,' shouted one unlucky boy, and Mr Peel heard it, and Laura heard it, and it tasted bitter to the old man's palate on hia wedding day. At the splendid breakfast, however, which succeeded, we may bo sure there were no such uncourteous allusions. Mr Mounsey in a speech garnished i freely with puns and jests, called Mr Peel an ornament to his native land, one | of those princely fortunes which make us proud that we are Englishmen ; amassed by prudence, and honourable, and successful commerce, as the Rothschilds', as the Brasseys, as the ' but here Mr Mounsey because inarticulate, or unable to remember the names of any more of our distinguished citizens, and after a slight hesitation added, 'as 1 our friend and bridegroom, Mr Peel's. • But he is a robber for all that,' he concluded, facetiously. 'He has robbed us of a flower we cannot; replace — of the chiefeat ornament of my home.' Mrs Mounsey here frowned a*.d fidgeted, and 1 Mr Mounsey adroitly added, ' With, of course the exception of tho lady who did me the honour to accept ray hand some years ago, and whose hospitality you are now partaking 1 of. So, ladies and gentlemen, I propose the health of the bride and bridegroom, to be drunk with three times three. Hip, hip, hurrah !' When the cheers subsided, Mr Peel rose to hia legs, and looked feebly and uncertainly round. ' I am much obliged,' he began slowly and with difficulty, for his articulation was much affected since his illness, ' I— and — the— the — lovely lady who his sitting here by my sid3. We aro much obliged — for the honour you have done us ' and here he paused and hesitated. ' You must not forget you have been an invalid,' said Laura, gently touching his arm ; ' this excitement is not good for you, and I'm sure our friends will excuse any longer speech on your part.' These words were spoken aloud, and the company called out with on voice — ' Yes, indeed ; sit down, Mr Peel. We know you have been ill' and after a moment's hesitation, and feeling perhaps that he was really unequal to< the task, the btidegrooin tremulously resumed his seat by his fair wife's side. Then Colonel Bouverie, who • was the senior groomsman, and at this tjine commanded the garrison at Oldcastle, rose to propose the bridesmaids, which he did in a neat speech, that on one or two similar occasions he had made before. Captain Hugh Clayton responded to this toast. He had not improved in appearance during the time which had passed since he was last in Windsor-street. Hia face was flushed, and his eyes were bloodbhot, and his hands trembled, and his manner was excited and uncertain. Still he thanked' the company in the name of the young ladies with a certain amount of good taste : though saying in an undertone to his next door neighbour as he eat down, who chanced to be Mr Luke Hindmarch, 'that he was deuced glad that was over,' Men's tongues get loose at these times, aod their ordinary prudence disappears. 'When wine's in, wit's out/ and among others onr friend Mr Hmdraarph became this morning an exemplicaUou, of the old adage. First he began to be very joyous and joyial ; then very sympathetic and confiding. Told Captain. Hugh Clayton, just because he happened to be sitting next him, ' how he hoped one day to be a bridegroom too. Not like that old fellow, though— at least, I mean,' said he remembering dimly through^ the fumes of of the champagne that he was addressing the bride's cousin ; 'not — I mean — suoh a difference — more suitably — more — ah, affection. That's the ticket for me.' 1 Indeed, sir, answ ered Captain Clayton, who also had been drinking hard ; but who, though slightly excited, was for him still sober, and was kighly amused at the amorous young merchant's confessions. 'Indeed, sir; and who may the fair lady be ?' • That's telling, Captain ; that's telling,' laughed Hindmarch, with drunken knowingness, • That's telling. Butl wouM'i't miud showing you her awect little face,

,It ? s { heie,' sir; it's 'here/ said he,' clapping 'hiVhand' somewhere oh the front of his ■white waistooat. 'Here, till I hope her dear h.ead will be here ; , here, where — where'--which throbs with tenderness at her recolle6tion. Here, where-, ' " 'Nonsense, my good fellow, nonsense,' said Ca'piain Clayton, impatiently— for Bdme of the other men were beginning to tyok round at Mr Hindmarch, the ladies having by thia .time retired. ' ' But if her portrait is tforth looking at, hand it out ; but don't go into any rhapsodies.' 4lt id worth looking at, sir,' answered Mr Hindmarch, pompously. *It is— l am not ashamed of it,' and he drew out from his pocket' the photograph of Amy, whioh Dolly Manners had giveo him, enolosed in<a violet velvet case, and handed it to Captain Clayton. With a careless' and supercilious smile, Clayton reoeived and opened it. But as his eyes fell on the familiar face, he started violently?, changed- colour, and, grasping Hihdmaroh's wrist, cried out, ' Where did you! get it •?• Where did you get this sir?' ,' . > « . >.'• jT • Really^ Captain— really, I do not . understand you,? answered the little man, fidgeting 1 his- wrist to free it from Captain Claytons grasp.' ■ ' ; '-Where did "you- get this?' Reiterated Qlaytori, in u<- loud- voice.' 'Answer me at once, or 'I shall have your life.' 4 ,Reiilly, really--I — I' appeal to the other gentlemen present,' gasped poor Hindraarchj rising. ' I-i-I am utterly at a loss ' . > . ♦.What is it,. Clayton?' said Colonel Bouverip, ■ and of the other men, ribing also. ' Wbat is the matter i' ' 'You shall answer,' said Clayton, 1 fiercely ; now bo excited as almost to be unconscious of those around him. 4 You shall tell me. Where did you get it? Has she been trifling with your love, as she trifled with mine? Tell me where she is ; or, by the God abqvo us, I will drive a knife into your throat.' And, suiting his action to his words, he lifted I one from the table and Held it threateningly towards Hindmarch. 4 Mercy ! mercy !' Bnrieked Hindmarch, struggling- in his grasp. 'Gentlemen, Gentlemen, am I to ' be murdered by a , madman ! , Gentlemen— -Monnscy — interfere, or he will kill me. Oh ! Ob !' ' Let him <^o, Clayton,' said Colonel BouVerie) pulling Clayton back. ', What's the Tow'abdut ? If it's some woman, this Js no place' to settle it. Let Mr Hindmarch go.' , ( ' N6t till he has tpld me where she Is,' 'answered Clayt6n, shaking off the Colonel's hau'd. ' Not till ha has told me what I ask. Where is the woman who gave it to you ?' ' Can't you answer him ?', said Colonel Bouverie. 4 My dear Hugh — my dikr Hindmarch — consider the ladies, said ivlr Mounsey, approaching them, but still keeping at a prudent distance from the combatants. ' I'll consider no one,' shouted Clayton. 4 Look gentlemen, this man is carrying about the portrait of my wife — boasting she is engaged to him. If any one doubts my word, let him compare the two.' And he tore off the locket he wore, whioh he had once shown to Laura, and which contained Amy's portrait. Colonel Bouverie compared the two, and then paid quietly — • ' Mr Hindmaroh, Captain Clayton is 'right. He has a right to ask you where you procured the portrait of thia lady.' { I—lI — I only met her once, 1 said Luke, by 1 thia time almost sober. ' She is a young lady I met at the Rev. Arthur Manners'*, at Narbrough. Her name is Mi*s Williams. Captain Clayton must be mistaken. It must be some extraordinary likeness. 4lt is no mistake, or no likeness,' said Captain Clayton, bitterly. 'This portrait,' and he examined it again, 'is no ather than that of Amy Clayton, my wife. They were taken in London immediately after our marriage. Look, gentlemen, there is the man's name and address in Regent-street on both. You know she left me, he continued, ' and under the assumed name of Miss Williams must have met this gentleman.' ' I apologise, Captain Clayton. I truly apologise,' said Luke Hindmarcb, ' I am sure I had no idea.' 4 Why, Hugh, cried Mr Mounaey, , breathlessly, who by this time had £Ofc , hold of the disputed photograph ? 4 why Hugh-rthat is — 1 declare this is Mi&s Williams who was our governet-s — our governess who left so suddenly.' • ' What !' aaid Clayton, • what ' and his fnce blanched painfully, *the girl Louisa said left with some man — the girl— ;— ' * The girl who lof fc with George Mannors,' answered Mr Mounsey, full of his information ; and fcheu Boeing the fury written ia Ciaj'ton's face, ho added, ' but it was ouly to bee a sick little chiid, Hugh, one of her old pupils ; a littla daughter of the Rev. Arthur Manners, who the dispute about the title ia. There was no harm in it.' 4 8.0.TV0. piioujfh. in it,' said Clayton ; but controlling himself the next minute, he asked, ' Where does Mr Manners live ? Where ia ho living- ?' 'At Narbrough in Northumberland. You get out at the Narbrough station,' said, Mr Hindraaroh, settling his neoktie, and shaking himself straightßr into his coat ; 4 and I must say 1 think it was an uncommonly shabby trick of the Vicar to impose a married woman on a young naan as a young lady.' ' He, too, probably was deceived, said Colonel Louvcrie. ' Wnll gentlemen, I think you can att'ord to shake hauds now. Neither that I can .see in this dispute has been to blame. 4 1 am sure I am very happy to do so,' said Luke, holding out his hand, and Captain Clayton put his in it indifferently, with a strange, far-off look in his eyes. His interest in Mr Hindmarch was gone, and ha never looked at the man whom a few moments before he had regarded with such jealoub fury. ' Has any one a railway guide ?' he said, the next minute ; and on someone handone to him, he instantly became absorbed in its contents ; and Mr Mouiihey taking advantage of his pre-occupation. ran hastily from the room and up to his bedroom, where the bride and her sister were exchanging a few parting words alone. 1 Mamma, mamma,' said Mr Mounsey, it an excited whisper. ' Mamma, Laura ! What do you thiuk ? What do you think has happened? The girl— that Miss Williams, who ran away with George Manners, was Hugh Claytons wife. * What !' cried Mrs Mounsey, sharply. < Whafc V * TUa girl— the girl Miss Williams, your late governess was no other than your cousin's lost wife,' 1 How did he discover it ?' said the bride. 4 Who ou earth, has betrayed to him the secret ?' < Did you know it, Laura,' asked Mrs Mounaey, furiously. 4 You, and never told me r" 4lt was George Manners' secret, ' said Laura. 4 1 had no option ; but this is no time to quarrel. What is Hugh doing now, Mr Mounsey ? And who told this unhappy story ?' Then Mr Mounsey related the scene which had taken place in the diningroom, and no sooner had Laura heard it than she decided how to act. ' There is not a moment to be lost,' she said. ' Will you bring me a desk, Mr Mounsey, and for God's sake let Georg-e Manners have the note at ouce that I am going 1 to write to him V ' 4 Will it do any good ?' asked Mr Moun. sey, hesitatingly. I 4 lt may save that woman 'd hie/ an-

swered Laura, eagerly. ' Will you pro - raise to send it ?' ' Of course,' said Mr Mounsey, * if you wiph it I will send it instantly; I will send it to bis office, he is sure to be there.' The Laura eat down and wrote her letter, and, in a few minutes handed it to her brother-in-law, who hastily left the room to fulfil her mission. ♦Forgive me, Louisa,' said the bride, turning to her indignant sister, who had been struggling for the last few minute* with her real anger and her new respect for the rich man's wife ; ' but I could not tell you. I made a sacred promise to George Manners not to do so.' 1 But your own sister,' said Mrs Mounsey, almost unable to suppress her feelings.. 'And what had George Manners, I should like to kuow, to do with her.' j * Hush, Louisa, said Laura, stooping ! down and kissing her Bister, 'See,' she whispered, l here is Mr Peel at the door ; do not let him think we are quarrelling on my wedding- day. I will write to explain this to you,' she added ; and at the sight of the bridegroom Mrs Mounsey made an effort to reoover her oomposure. 4 1 have sent James with the note, he is the most sober among them,' said Mi Mounsey, in Laura's ear, as she took her seat in. her new travelling-carriage by hei husband's side. Hugh has gone to the station already, they tell me ; I wish, 1 am sure, no mischief may come of this.' Laura made no answer, but her face looked very pale and anxious as she 1 bowed her last adieu amid the cheers of her sixer's apsciublod guehU. (To be continued, )