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diff --git a/42320.txt b/42320.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9367b56..0000000 --- a/42320.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8054 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Shadow of a Sin, by -Bertha M. Clay and Charlotte M. Brame - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Shadow of a Sin - -Author: Bertha M. Clay - Charlotte M. Brame - -Release Date: March 13, 2013 [EBook #42320] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHADOW OF A SIN *** - - - - -Produced by Demian Katz and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Images courtesy -of the Digital Library@Villanova University -(http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)) - - - - - - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER I. - CHAPTER II. - CHAPTER III. - CHAPTER IV. - CHAPTER V. - CHAPTER VI. - CHAPTER VII. - CHAPTER VIII. - CHAPTER IX. - CHAPTER X. - CHAPTER XI. - CHAPTER XII. - CHAPTER XIII. - CHAPTER XIV. - CHAPTER XV. - CHAPTER XVI. - CHAPTER XVII. - CHAPTER XVIII. - CHAPTER XIX. - CHAPTER XX. - CHAPTER XXI. - CHAPTER XXII. - CHAPTER XXIII. - CHAPTER XXIV. - CHAPTER XXV. - CHAPTER XXVI. - CHAPTER XXVII. - CHAPTER XXVIII. - CHAPTER XXIX. - CHAPTER XXX. - CHAPTER XXXI. - CHAPTER XXXII. - CHAPTER XXXIII. - CHAPTER XXXIV. - CHAPTER XXXV. - CHAPTER XXXVI. - CHAPTER XXXVII. - - - - - THE - SHADOW OF A SIN - - By BERTHA M. CLAY - - [Illustration] - - ROYAL PUBLISHING CO., - 528 Locust Street PHILADELPHIA PA. - - - - - THE SHADOW OF A SIN - - BY BERTHA M. CLAY - - AUTHOR OF - "_Thrown on the World_," "_Lady Damer's Secret_," - "_A Passionate Love_," "_Her Faithful Heart_," - "_Shadow of the Past_," _etc._ - - ROYAL PUBLISHING COMPANY. - 530 Locust Street, Philadelphia - - - - -Marriage Guide - -By MICHAEL RYAN, MD. - - -Are you Married, or are you Contemplating Marriage? - -_A GREAT SPECIAL OFFER_ - - A $10.00 BOOK FOR ONLY =$1.00= - -A complete Description of the human system, both Male and Female, and -full particulars of Diseases to which each is subject, with Remedies for -same. Illustrated with numerous fine, superb, full-page plates. - -Fully depicting the mysterious process of Gestation from the time of -conception to the period of delivery. - - -_LOVE, COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE_ - -It tells you of Love and how to obtain its fullest enjoyment; Courtship -and its attendant pleasures; Marriage, its joys, pleasures and -happiness, and how best to acquire the greater amount of its blessings, -with a vast number of wonderful and extraordinary revelations that only -those who are married or contemplating marriage should be made -acquainted with. - -Will be sent, postpaid, securely sealed, to any address, on receipt of -=$1.00, special price=. Address all orders to - - -ROYAL PUBLISHING COMPANY - -No. 530 Locust Street, Philadelphia, Pa. - - - - -THE SHADOW OF A SIN. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - "She is coming--my own, my sweet; - Were it ever so airy a tread, - My heart would hear her and beat - Had it lain for a century dead." - - -A rich musical voice trolled out the words, not once, but many times -over--carelessly at first, and then the full sense of them seemed to -strike the singer. - -"'Had it lain for a century dead,'" he repeated slowly. "Ah, me! the -difference between poetry and fact--when I have lain for a century dead, -the light footfalls of a fair woman will not awaken me. 'Beyond the sun, -woman's beauty and woman's love are of small account;' yet here--ah, -when will she come?" - -The singer, who was growing impatient, was an exceedingly handsome young -man--of not more than twenty--with a face that challenged all -criticism--bright, careless, defiant, full of humor, yet with a gleam of -poetry--a face that girls and women judge instantly, and always like. He -did not look capable of wrong, this young lover, who sung his love-song -so cheerily, neither did he look capable of wicked thoughts. - - "'You really must come, for I said - I would show the bright flowers their queen.' - -That is the way to talk to women," he soliloquized, as the words of the -song dropped from his lips. "They can not resist a little flattery -judiciously mixed with poetry. I hope I have made no mistake. Cynthy -certainly said by the brook in the wood. Here is the brook--but where is -my love?" - -He grew tired of walking and singing--the evening was warm--and he sat -down on the bank where the wild thyme and heather grew, to wait for the -young girl who had promised to meet him when the heat of the day had -passed. - -He had been singing sweet love-songs; the richest poetry man's hand ever -penned or heart imagined had been falling in wild snatches from his -lips. Did this great poem of nature touch him--the grand song that -echoes through all creation, which began in the faint, gray chaos, when -the sea was bounded and the dry land made, and which will go on until it -ends in the full harmony of heaven? - -He looked very handsome and young and eager; his hair was tinged with -gold, his mouth was frank and red; yet he was not quite trustworthy. -There was no great depth in his heart or soul, no great chivalry, no -grand treasure of manly truth, no touch of heroism. - -He took his watch from his pocket and looked at it. "Ten minutes past -seven--and she promised to be here at six. I shall not wait much -longer." - -He spoke the words aloud, and a breath of wind seemed to move the trees -to respond; it was as though they said, "He is no true knight to say -that." - -A hush fell over them, the bees rested on the thyme, the butterflies -nestled close to the blue-bells, the little brook ran on as though it -were wild with joy. Presently a footstep was heard, and then the long -expected one appeared. With something between a sigh and a smile she -held out one little white hand to him. "I hardly thought you would wait -for me, Claude. You are very patient." - -"I would wait twice seven years for only one look at your face," he -rejoined. - -"Would you?" interrogated the girl wearily. "I would not wait so long -even for a fairy prince." - -She sat down on the heather-covered bank, and took off her hat. She -fanned herself with it for a few minutes, and then flung it carelessly -among the flowers. - -"You do not seem very enraptured at seeing me, Hyacinth," said the young -lover reproachfully. The girl sighed wearily. - -"I do not believe I could go into a rapture over any thing in the -world," she broke out. "I am so tired of my life--so tired of it, -Claude, that I do not believe I could get up an interest in a single -thing." - -"I hope you feel some little interest in me," he said. - -"I--I--I cannot tell. I think even bitterest pain would be better than -the dead monotony that is killing me." - -She remembered those words in after years, and repented of them when -repentance was in vain. - -"Surely you might smile now," said Claude. "I hope you do not find -sitting by my side on this lovely evening monotonous." - -She laughed, but the laugh had no music in it. - -"No, I cannot say that I do; but you are going away soon, you tell me, -and then the only gleam of sunshine in my life will fade, and all will -be darkness again." - -"What has depressed you so much?" he asked. "You are not yourself -to-day." - -"Shall I tell you what my day has been like?" she said. "Shall I -describe it from the hour when the first sunbeams woke me this morning -until now?" He took both the small white hands in his. - -"Yes, tell me; but be merciful, and let me hear that the thought of -meeting me has cheered you." - -"It has been the only gleam of brightness," she said, so frankly that -the very frankness of the words seemed not to displease him. "It was -just six when I woke. I could hear the birds singing, and I knew how -cool and fresh and dewy everything was. I dressed myself very quickly -and went down-stairs. The great house was all darkness and silence. I -had forgotten that Lady Vaughan does not allow the front or back doors -to be opened until after breakfast. I thought the birds were calling me, -and the branches of the trees seemed to beckon me; but I was obliged to -go back to my own room, and sit there till the gong sounded for -breakfast." - -"Poor child!" he said caressingly. - -"Nay, do not pity me. Listen. The breakfast-room is dark and gloomy; -Lady Vaughan always has the windows closed to keep out the air, and the -blinds drawn to keep out the sun; flowers give her the headache, and the -birds make too much noise. So, with every beautiful sound and sight most -carefully excluded, we sit down to breakfast, when the conversation -never varies." - -"Of what does it consist?" asked the young lover, beginning to pity the -young girl, though amused by her recital. - -"Sir Arthur tells us first of what he dreamed and how he slept. Lady -Vaughan follows suit. After that, for one hour by the clock, I must read -aloud from Mrs. Hannah More, from a book of meditations for each day of -the year, and from Blair's sermons--nothing more lively than that. Then -the books are put away, with solemn reflections from Lady Vaughan, and -for the next hour we are busy with needlework. We sit in that dull -breakfast-room, Claude, without speaking, until I am ready to cry -aloud--I grow so tired of the dull monotony. When we have worked for an -hour, I write letters--Lady Vaughan dictates them. Then comes luncheon. -We change from the dull breakfast-room to the still more dull -dining-room, from which sunshine and fragrance are also carefully -excluded. After that comes the greatest trial of all. A closed carriage -comes to the door, and for two long, wearisome hours I drive with Sir -Arthur and Lady Vaughan. The blinds are drawn at the carriage windows, -and the horses creep at a snail's pace. Then we return home. I go to the -piano until dinner time. After dinner Lady Vaughan goes to sleep, and I -play at chess or backgammon, or something equally stupid, until -half-past nine; and then the bell rings for prayers, and the day is -done." - -"It is not a very exhilarating life, certainly," said Claude Lennox. - -"Exhilarating! I tell you, Claude, that sometimes I am frightened at -myself--frightened that I shall do something very desperate. I am only -just eighteen, and my heart is craving for what every one else has; yet -it is denied me. I am eighteen, and I love life--oh, so dearly! I should -like to be in the very midst of gayety and pleasure. I should like to -dance and sing--to laugh and talk. Yet no one seems to remember that I -am young. I never see a young face--I never hear a pleasant voice. If I -sing, Lady Vaughan raises her hands to her head, and implores me 'not to -make a noise.' Yet I love singing just as the birds do." - -"I see only one remedy for such a state of things, Hyacinth," said the -young lover, and his eyes brightened as he looked on her beautiful face. - -"I am just eighteen," continued the girl, "and I assure you that looking -back on my life, I do not remember one happy day in it." - -"Perhaps the happiness is all to come," said he quietly. - -"I do not know. This is Tuesday; on Thursday we start for Bergheim--a -quiet and sleepy little town in Germany--and there we are to meet my -fate." - -"What is your fate?" he asked. - -"You remember the story I told you--Lady Vaughan says I am to marry -Adrian Darcy. I suppose he is a model of perfection--as quiet and as -stupid as perfection always is." - -"Lady Vaughan cannot force you to marry any one," he cried eagerly. - -"No, there will be no forcing in the strict sense of the word--they will -only preach to me, and talk at me, until I shall be driven mad, and I -shall marry him, or do anything else in sheer desperation." - -"Who is he, Hyacinth?" asked her young lover. - -"His mother was a cousin of Lady Vaughan's. He is rich, clever, and I -should certainly say, as quiet and uninteresting as nearly all the rest -of the world. If it were not so, he would not have been reserved for -me." - -"I do not quite understand," said Claude Lennox. "How it is? Was there a -contract between your parents?" - -"No," she replied, with a slight tone of scorn in her voice--"there is -never anything of that kind except in novels. I am Lady Vaughan's -granddaughter, and she has a large fortune to leave; this Adrian Darcy -is also her relative, and she says the best thing to be done for us is -to marry each other, and then her fortune can come to us." - -"Is that all?" he inquired, with a look of great relief. "You need not -marry him unless you choose. Have you seen him?" - -"No; nor do I wish to see him. Any one whom Lady Vaughan likes cannot -possibly suit me. Oh, Claude, how I dread it all!--even the journey to -Germany." - -"I should have fancied that, longing as you do for change and -excitement, the journey would have pleased you," observed Claude. - -She looked at him with a half-wistful expression on her beautiful face. - -"I must be very wicked," she said; "indeed I know that I am. I should be -looking forward to it with rapture, if any one young or amusing were -going with me; but to sit in closed carriages with Sir Arthur and Lady -Vaughan--to travel, yet see nothing--is dreadful." - -"But you are attached to them," he said--"you are fond of them, are you -not, Hyacinth?" - -"Yes," she replied, piteously; "I should love them very much if they did -not make me so miserable. They are over sixty, and I am just -eighteen--they have forgotten what it is to be young, and force me to -live as they do. I am very unhappy." - -She bent her beautiful face over the flowers, and he saw her eyes fill -with tears. - -"It is a hard lot," he said; "but there is one remedy, and only one. Do -you love me, Hyacinth?" - -She looked at him with something of childish perplexity in her face. - -"I do not know," she replied. - -"Yes, you do know, Hyacinth; you know if you love me well enough to -marry me." - -No blush rose to her face, her eyes did not droop as they met his, the -look of perplexity deepened in them. - -"I cannot tell," she returned. "In the first place, I am not sure that I -know really what love means. Lady Vaughan will not allow such a word in -her presence; I have no young girl friends to come to me with their -secrets; I am not allowed to read stories or poetry--how can I tell you -whether I love you or not?" - -"Surely your own heart has a voice, and you know what it says." - -"Has it?" she rejoined indifferently. "If it has a voice, that voice has -not yet spoken." - -"Do not say so, Hyacinth; you know how dearly I love you. I am lingering -here when I ought to be far away, hoping almost against hope to win you. -Do not tell me that all my love, my devotion, my pleading, my prayers -have been in vain." - -The look of childish perplexity did not leave her face; the gravity of -her beautiful eyes deepened. - -"I have no wish to be cruel," she said; "I only desire to say what is -true." - -"Then just listen to your own heart, and you will soon know whether you -love me or not. Are you pleased to see me? Do you look forward to -meeting me? Do you think of me when I am not with you?" - -"Yes," she replied calmly; "I look with eagerness to the time when I -know you are coming; I think of you very often all day, and I--I dream -of you all night. In my mind every word that you have ever said to me -remains." - -"Then you love me," he cried, clasping her little white hands in his, -his handsome face growing brighter and more eager--"you love me, my -darling, and you must be my wife!" - -She did not shrink from him; the words evidently had little meaning for -her. He must have been blind indeed not to see the girl's heart was as -void and innocent of all love as the heart of a dreaming child. - -"You must be my wife," he repeated. "I love you better than anything -else in the wide world." - -She did not look particularly happy or delighted. - -"You shall go away from this dull gloomy spot," he said; "I will take -you to some sunny, far-off city, where the hours have golden wings and -are like minutes--where every breath of wind is a fragrant sigh--where -the air is filled with music, and the speech of the people is song. You -will behold the grandest pictures, the finest statues, the noblest -edifices in the world. You shall not know night from day, nor summer -from winter, because everything shall be so happy for you." - -The indifference and weariness fell from her face as a mask. She clasped -her hands in triumph, her eyes brightened, her beautiful face beamed -with joy. - -"Oh, Claude, that will be delightful! When shall it be?" - -"So soon as you are my wife, sweet. Do you not long to come with me and -be dressed like a lovely young queen, in flowers, and go to balls that -will make you think of fairyland? You shall go to the opera to hear the -world's greatest singers; you shall never complain of dulness or -weariness again." - -The expression of happiness that came over her face was wonderful to -see. - -"I cannot realize it," she said, with a deep sigh of relief and content. -"The sky looks fairer already. I can imagine how bright this world is to -those who are happy. You do not know how I have longed for some share of -its happiness, Claude. All my heart used to cry out for warmth and love, -for youth and life. In that dull, gloomy house I have pined away. See, I -am as thirsty to enjoy life as the deer on a hot day is to enjoy a -running stream. It would be cruel to catch that little bird swinging on -the boughs and singing so sweetly--it would be cruel to catch that -bright bird, to put it in a narrow cage, and to place the cage in a -dark, dull room, where never a gleam of sunshine could cheer it--but it -is a thousand times more cruel to shut me up in that gloomy house like a -prison, with people who are too old to understand what youth is like." - -"It is cruel," he assented; and then a silence fell over them, broken -only by the whispering of the wind. - -"Do you know," she went on, after a time, "I have been so unhappy that -I have wished I were like Undine and had no soul?" - -Yet, even as she uttered the words, from the books she disliked and -found so dreary there came to her floating memories of grand sentences -telling of "hearts held in patience," "of endurance that maketh life -divine," of aspirations that do not begin and end in earthly happiness. -She drove such memories from her. - -"Lady Vaughan says 'life is made for duty.' Is that all, Claude? One -could do one's duty without the light of the sunshine and the fragrance -of flowers. Why need the birds sing so sweetly and the blossoms wear a -thousand different colors? If life is meant for nothing but plain, dull -duty, we do not need starlit nights and dewy evenings, the calm of green -woods and the music of the waves. It seems to me that life is meant as -much for beauty as for duty." - -Claude looked eagerly into the lovely face. - -"You are right," he said, "and yet wrong. Cynthy, life was made for -love--nothing else. You are young and beautiful; you ought to enjoy -life--and you shall, if you will promise to be my wife." - -"I do promise," she returned. "I am tired to death of that gloomy house -and those gloomy people. I am weary of quiet and dull monotony." - -His face darkened. - -"You must not marry me to escape these evils, Hyacinth, but because you -love me." - -"Of course. Well, I have told you all my perplexities, Claude, and you -have decided that I love you." - -He smiled at the childlike simplicity of the words. - -"Now, Hyacinth, listen to me. You must be my wife, because I love you so -dearly that I cannot live without you and because you have promised. -Listen, and I will tell you how it must be." - -Hyacinth Vaughan looked up in her lover's face; there was nothing but -the simple wonder of a child in hers--nothing but awakened -interest--there was not even the shadow of love. - -"You say that Lady Vaughan intends starting for Bergheim on Thursday, -and that Adrian Darcy is to meet you there; consequently, after -Thursday, you have not the least chance of escape. I should imagine the -future that lies before you to be more terrible even than the past. Rely -upon it, Adrian Darcy will come to live at the Chase if he marries you; -and then you will only sleep through life. You will never know its -possibilities, its grand realities." - -An expression of terror came over her face. - -"Claude," she cried, "I would rather die than live as I have been -living!" - -"So would I, in your place. Cynthy, your life is in our own hands. If -you choose to be foolish and frightened, you will say good-by to me, go -to Bergheim, marry Darcy, and drag out the rest of a weary life at the -Chase, seeing nothing of brightness, nothing of beauty, and growing in -time as stiff and formal as Lady Vaughan is now." - -The girl shuddered; the warm young life in her rebelled; the longing for -love and pleasure, for life and brightness, was suddenly chilled. - -"Now here is another picture for you," resumed Claude. "Do what I wish, -and you shall never have another hour's dulness or weariness while you -live. Your life shall be all love, warmth, fragrance and song." - -"What do you wish?" she asked, her lovely young face growing brighter at -each word. - -"I want you to meet me to-morrow night at Oakton station; we will take -the train for London, and on Thursday, instead of going to Bergheim, we -will be married, and then you shall lead an enchanted life." - -An expression of doubt appeared on her face; but she was very young and -easy to persuade. - -"It will be the grandest sensation in all the world," he said. "Imagine -an elopement from the Chase--where the goddess of dulness has reigned -for years--an elopement, Cynthy, followed by a marriage, a grand -reconciliation tableau, and happiness that will last for life -afterward." - -She repeated the words half-doubtfully. - -"An elopement, Claude--would not that be very wrong--wicked almost?" - -"Not at all. Lady Helmsdale eloped with her husband, and they are the -happiest people in the world; elopements are not so uncommon--they are -full of romance, Cynthia." - -"But are they right?" she asked, half timidly. - -"Well in some cases an elopement is not right, perhaps; in ours it is. -Do you think that, hoping as I do to make you my wife, I would ask you -to do anything which would afterward be injurious to you? Though you are -so young, Cynthia, you must know better than that. To elope is right -enough in our case. You are like a captive princess; I am the knight -come to deliver you from the dreariest of prisons--come to open for you -the gates of an enchanted land. It will be just like a romance, Cynthy; -only instead of reading, we shall act it." And then in his rich -cheery-voice, he sung, - - "'But neither bolts nor bars shall keep - My own true love from me.'" - -"I do not see how I can manage it," said Hyacinth, as the notes of her -lover's song died over the flowers. "Lady Vaughan always has the house -locked and the keys taken to her at nine." - -"It will be very easy," returned Claude. "I know the library at the -Chase has long windows that open on to the ground. You can leave one of -them unfastened, and close the shutters yourself." - -"But I have never been out at night alone," she said, hesitatingly. - -"You will not be alone long, if you will only have courage to leave the -house. I will meet you at the end of the grounds, and we will walk to -the station together. We shall catch a train leaving Oakton soon after -midnight, and shall reach London about six in the morning. I have an old -aunt living there who will do anything for us. We will drive at once to -her house; and then I will get a special license, and we will be married -before noon." - -"How well you have arranged everything!" she said. "You must have been -thinking of this for a long time past." - -"I have thought of nothing else, Cynthy. Then, when we are married, we -will write at once to Lady Vaughan, telling her of our union; and -instead of starting for that dreary Bergheim, we will go at once to -sunny France, or fair and fruitful Italy, where the world will be at our -feet, my darling. You are so beautiful, you will win all hearts." - -"Am I so beautiful?" she asked simply. "Lady Vaughan says good looks are -sinful." - -"Lady Vaughan is--" The young man paused in time, for those clear, -innocent eyes seemed to be penetrating to the very depths of his heart. -"Lady Vaughan has forgotten that she was ever young and pretty herself," -he said. "Now, Cynthy, tell me--will you do what I wish?" - -"Is it not a very serious thing to do?" she asked. "Would not people -think ill of me?" - -His conscience reproached him a little when he answered "No"--the -lovely, trusting face was so like the face of a child. - -"I do not expect you to say 'Yes' at once, Hyacinth--think it over. -There lies before you happiness with me, or misery without me." - -"But, Claude," she inquired eagerly, "why need we elope? Why not ask -Lady Vaughan if we can be married? She might say 'Yes.'" - -"She would not; I know better than you. She would refuse, and you would -be carried off on Thursday, whether you liked it or not. If we are to be -married at all we must elope--there is no help for it." - -The young girl did not at once consent, although the novelty, the -romance, the promised happiness, tempted her as a promised journey -pleases a child. - -"Think it over to-night," he said, "and let me know to-morrow." - -"How can I let you know?" she asked. "I shall be in prison all day; it -is not often that I have an hour like this. I shall not be able to see -you." - -"Perhaps not, but you can give me some signal. You have charge of the -flowers in the great western window?" - -"Yes, I change them at my pleasure every day." - -"Then, if after thinking the matter over, you decide in my favor, and -choose a lifetime of happiness, put white roses--nothing but white -roses--there; if, on the contrary, you are inclined to follow up a life -of unendurable _ennui_, put crimson flowers there. I shall -understand--the white roses will mean 'Yes; I will go;' the crimson -flowers will mean 'No; good-by, Claude.' You will not forget, Cynthy." - -"It is not likely that I shall forget," she replied. - -"You need not have one fear for the future; you will be happy as a -queen. I shall love you so dearly; we will enjoy life as it is meant to -be enjoyed. It was never intended for you to dream away your existence -in one long sleep. Your beautiful face was meant to brighten and gladden -men's hearts; your sweet voice to rule them. You are buried alive here." - -Then the great selfish love that had conquered him rose in passionate -words. How he caressed her! What tender, earnest words he whispered to -her! What unalterable devotion he swore--what affection, what love! The -girl grew grave and silent as she listened. She wondered why she felt -so quiet--why none of the rapture that lighted up his face and shone in -his eyes came to her. She loved him--he said so; and surely he who had -had so much experience ought to know. Yet she had imagined love to be -something very different from this. She wondered that it gave her so -little pleasure. - -"How the poets exaggerate it!" she said to herself, while he was pouring -out love, passion, and tenderness in burning words. "How great they make -it, and how little it is in reality." - -She sighed deeply as she said these words to herself, and Claude mistook -the sigh. - -"You must not be anxious, Hyacinth. You need not be so. You are leaving -a life of dull, gloomy monotony for one of happiness, such as you can -hardly imagine. You will never repent it, I am sure. Now give me one -smile; you look as distant and sad as Lady Vaughan herself. Smile, -Cynthy!" - -She raised her eyes to his face, and for long years afterward that look -remained with him. She tried to smile, but the beautiful lips quivered -and the clear eyes fell. - -"I must go," she said, rising hurriedly, "Sir Arthur and Lady Vaughan -are to be home by eight o'clock." - -"You will say 'Yes,' Cynthy?" he said, clasping her hands in his own. -"You will say 'Yes,' will you not?" - -"I must think first," she replied; and as she turned away the rush of -wind through the tall green trees sounded like a long, deep-drawn sigh. - -Slowly she retraced her steps through the woods, now dim and shadowy in -the sunset light, toward the home that seemed so like a prison to her. -And yet the prospect of an immediate escape from that prison did not -make her happy. The half-given promise rested upon her heart like a -leaden weight, although she was scarce conscious in her innocence why it -should thus oppress her. At the entrance to the Hall grounds she paused, -and with a gesture of impatience turned her back upon the lofty -sombre-looking walls, and stood gazing through an opening in the groves -at the gorgeous masses of purple and crimson sky, that marked the path -of the now vanished sun. - -A very pretty picture she made as the soft light fell upon her fair face -and golden hair, but no thought of her young, fresh beauty was in the -girl's mind then. The question, "Dare I say--'Yes'?" was ever before -her, with Claude's fair face and pleading, loving tones. - -"O, I cannot decide now," she thought wearily, "I must think longer -about it," and with a sigh she turned from the sunset-light, and walked -up the long avenue that led to her stately home. - -How her decision--though speedily repented of and corrected--yet cast -the shadow of a sin over her fair young life; how her sublimely heroic -devotion to THE RIGHT saved the life of an innocent man, yet drove her -into exile from home and friends, and how at last the bright sunshine -drove away the shadows and restored her to home and friends, all she had -lost and more, remains for our story to tell. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -Sir Arthur and Lady Vaughan lived at Queen's Chase in Derbyshire, a -beautiful and picturesque place, known to artists, poets, and lovers of -quaint old architecture. Queen's Chase had been originally built by good -Queen Elizabeth of York, and was perhaps one of the few indulgences -which that not too happy queen allowed herself. It was large, and the -rooms were all lofty. The building was in the old Tudor style, and one -of its peculiarities was that every part of it was laden with ornament: -it seemed to have been the great ambition of the architect who designed -it to introduce as much carving as possible about it. Heads of fauns and -satyrs, fruit and flowers--every variety of carving was there; no matter -where the spectator turned, the sculptor's work was visible. - -To Hyacinth Vaughan, dreamy and romantic, it seemed as though the Chase -were peopled by these dull, silent, dark figures. Elizabeth of York did -not enjoy much pleasure in the retreat she had built for herself. It was -there she first heard of and rejoiced in the betrothal of her fair young -daughter Marguerite, to James IV. of Scotland. A few years afterward she -died, and the Chase was sold. Sir Dunstan Vaughan purchased it, and it -had remained in the family ever since. It was now their principal -residence--the Vaughans of Queen's Chase never quitted it. - -Though it was picturesque it was not the most cheerful place in the -world. The rooms were dark by reason of the huge carvings of the window -frames and the shade of the trees, which last, perhaps, grew too near -the house. The edifice contained no light, cheerful, sunny rooms, no -wide large windows; the taste of the days in which it was built, led -more toward magnificence than cheerfulness. Some additions had been -made; the western wing of the building had been enlarged; but the -principal apartments had remained unaltered; the stately, gloomy rooms -in which the fair young princess had received and read the royal -love-letters were almost untouched. The tall, spreading trees grew -almost to the Hall door; they made the whole house dark and perhaps -unhealthy. But no Vaughan ventured to cut them down; such an action -would have seemed like a sacrilege. - -From father to son Queen's Chase had descended in regular succession. -Sir Arthur, the present owner, succeeded when he was quite young. He was -by no means of the genial order of men: he had always been cold, silent, -and reserved. He married a lady more proud, more silent, more reserved -than himself--a narrow-minded, narrow-hearted woman whose life was -bounded by rigid law and formal courtesies, who never knew a warm or -generous impulse, who lived quite outside the beautiful fairyland of -love and poetry. - -Sir Arthur and Lady Vaughan had but one son, and though each idolized -him, they could not change their nature; warm, sweet impulses never came -to them. The mother kissed her boy by rule--at stated times; everything -was measured, dated, and weighed. - -The boy himself was, strange to say, of a most hopeful, ardent, sanguine -temperament; generous, high-spirited, slightly inclined to romance and -sentiment. He loved and honored his father and mother, but the rigid -formality of home was terrible to him; it was almost like death in life. -Partly to escape it and partly because he really liked the life, he -insisted on joining the army--much against Lady Vaughan's wishes. - -"Why could he not be content at home, as his father had been before -him?" she asked. - -Captain Randall Vaughan enjoyed his brief military career. As a matter -of course he fell in love, but far more sensibly than might have been -imagined. He married the pretty, delicate Clare Brandon. She was an -orphan, not very rich--in fact had only a moderate fortune--but her -birth atoned for all. She was a lineal descendant of the famous Brandon, -Duke of Suffolk, whom the fair young ex-queen of France had married. - -Lady Vaughan was delighted. A little more money might have been -acceptable, but the Vaughans had plenty, and there was no young lady in -England better born and better bred than Clare Brandon. So the young -captain married her and Sir Arthur made them a very handsome allowance. -For one whole year they lived in perpetual sunshine, as happy as they -could possibly be, and then came an outbreak in our Eastern possessions, -and the captain's regiment was ordered abroad. - -It was like a deathblow to them. Despite all danger, Mrs. Vaughan would -have gone with her husband, but for the state of her health, which -absolutely forbade it. Her despair was almost terrible; it seemed as if -she had a presentiment of the coming cloud. If the war had not been a -dangerous one the young captain would most certainly have sold out; but -to do so when every efficient soldier was required, would have been to -show the white feather, and that no Vaughan could do--the motto of the -house was "Loyal even to death." He tried all possible means to console -his wife, but she only clung to him with passionate cries, saying she -would never see him again. - -It was impossible to leave her alone and she had no near relatives. Then -Lady Vaughan came to the rescue. The heir of the Vaughans, she declared, -must be born at Queen's Chase: therefore her son's wife had better -remain with her. Randall Vaughan thankfully accepted his mother's offer, -and took his wife to the old ancestral home. It was arranged that she -should remain there until his return. - -"You will try for my sake to be well and happy," he said to her, "so -that when I come back you will be strong and able to travel with me, -should I have to go abroad, again." - -But she clasped her tender arms around him and hid her weeping face on -his breast. - -"I shall never see you again, my darling," she said, "never again!" - -They called the unconsciousness that came over her merciful. She -remembered nothing after those words. When she opened her eyes again he -was gone. - -How the certainty of her doom seemed to grow upon her! How her sweet -face grew paler, and the frail remnant of vitality grew less! He had -been her life--the very sun and centre of her existence. How could she -exist without him? Lady Vaughan, in her kind, formal way, tried to -cheer her, and begged of her to make an effort for Randall's sake; and -for Randall's sake the poor lady tried to live. - -They were disappointed in one respect; it was not an heir that was born -to the noble old race, but a lovely, smiling baby girl--so lovely that -Lady Vaughan, who was seldom guilty of sentiment, declared that it -resembled nothing so much as a budding flower, and after a flower, she -said it must be named. They suggested Rose, Violet, Lily--none of them -pleased her; but looking one day through the family record, she saw the -name of Lily Hyacinth Vaughan. Hyacinth it must be. The poor, fragile -mother smiled a feeble assent, and the lovely baby received its name. -Glowing accounts were sent to the young captain. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -The news was not long in reaching England. When Lady Vaughan read it she -knew it was Clare's death-warrant. They tried to break it to her very -gently, but her keen, quick perception soon told her what was wrong. - -"He is dead," she said; "I knew that I should never see him again." - -Clare Vaughan's heart was broken; she hardly spoke after she heard the -fatal words; she was very quiet, very patient, but the light on her face -was not of this world. She lay one day with little Hyacinth in her arms, -and Lady Vaughan, going into her room, said, - -"You look better to-day, Clare." - -"I have been dreaming of Randall," she said smiling; "I shall soon see -him again." - -An hour afterward they went to take the little one from her--the tender -arms had relaxed their hold, and she lay dead, with a smile on her face. - -They buried her in Ashton churchyard. People called her illness by all -kinds of different names, but Lady Vaughan knew she had died of a broken -heart. The care of little Hyacinth devolved upon her grandmother. It was -a dreary home for a child: the rooms were always shaded by trees, and -the sombre carvings, the satyr heads, the laughing fauns, all in stone, -frightened her. She never saw any young persons; Sir Arthur's servants -were all old--they had entered the service in their youth, and remained -in it ever since. - -Sir Arthur and Lady Vaughan felt their son's death very keenly; all -their hopes died with him; all their interest in life was gone. They -became more dull, more formal, more cold every day. They loved the -child, yet the sight of her was always painful to them, reminding them -so forcibly of what they had lost. They reared her in the same precise, -formal manner in which their only son had been reared. She rose at a -stated time; she retired at a certain hour, never varying by one minute; -she studied, she read, she practiced her music--all by rule. - -The neighborhood round Queen's Chase was not a very populous one. Among -the friends whom the Vaughans visited, and who visited them in return, -there was not one young person, not one child. It never seemed to enter -their minds that Hyacinth, being a child, longed for the society of -children. At certain times she was gravely told to play. She had a doll -and a Noah's ark; and with these she amused herself alone for long -hours. As for the graces, the fancies, the wants, the requirements of -childhood, its thousand wordless dreams and wordless wants, no one -seemed to understand them at all. They treated the child as if she were -a little old woman, crushing back with remorseless hand all the quick -fancies and bright dreams natural to youth. - -Some children would have grown up wicked, hardened, unlovely and -unloving under such tuition; but Hyacinth Vaughan was saved from this by -her peculiar disposition. The child was all poetry. Lady Vaughan never -wearied of trying to correct her. She carefully pruned, as she imagined, -all the excess of imagination and romance. She might as well have tried -to prevent the roses from blooming, the dew from falling, or the leaves -from springing. All that she succeeded in was in making the child keep -her thoughts and fancies to herself. She talked to the trees as though -they were grave, living friends, full of wise counsel; she talked to the -flowers as though they were familiar and dear playfellows. The -imagination so sternly repressed ran riot in a hundred different ways. - -It was most unfortunate for the child. If she had been as other -children--if her imagination, instead of being cruelly repressed, had -been trained and put to some useful purpose--if her love of romance had -been wisely guarded--if her great love of poetry and beauty, her great -love of ideality, had been watched and allowed for--the one great error -that darkened her life would never have been committed. But none of this -was done. She was literally afraid to speak of that which filled her -thoughts and was really part of her life. If she asked any uncommon -question Lady Vaughan scolded her, and Sir Arthur, his hands shaking -nervously, would say, "The child is going wrong--going wrong." - -It was without exception the dullest and saddest life any child could -lead. At thirteen there came two breaks in the monotony--she had a -music-master come from Oakton, and she found a key that fitted the -library door. How often had she stood against the library windows, -looking through them, and longing to open one of those precious volumes; -but when she asked Sir Arthur for a book, he told her she could not -understand them--she must be content to play with her doll. - -There were hundreds of suitable books that might have been provided for -the child; she was refused any--consequently she read whatever came in -her way. She found this key that fitted the library door, and used it. -She would quietly unlock it, and take one of the books nearest to her -without fear of its being missed, for Sir Arthur seldom entered the -room. In this fashion she read many books that were valuable, -instructive, and amusing. She also read many that would have been much -better left alone. Her innocence, however, saved her from harm. She knew -so little of life that what would have perhaps injured another was not -even noticed by her. - -In this manner she educated herself, and the result was exactly what was -to be expected. She had in her mind the most curious collection of -poetry and romance, the most curious notions of right and wrong, the -most unreal ideas it was possible to imagine. Then, as she grew older, -life began to unroll itself before her eyes. - -She saw that outside this dull world of Oakton there was another world -so fair and bright that it dazzled her. There was a world full of music -and song, where people danced and made merry, where they rode and drove -and enjoyed themselves, where there was no dulness and no gloom--a world -of which the very thought was so beautiful, so bewildering, that her -pulse thrilled and her heart beat as she dreamed of it. Would she ever -find her way into that dazzling world, or would she be obliged to live -here always, shut up with these old, formal people, amid the quaint -carvings and giant trees? And then when she was seventeen, she began to -dream of the other world women find so fair--the fairyland of hope and -love. Her ideas of love were nearly all taken from poetry: it was -something very magnificent, very beautiful, taking one quite out of -commonplace affairs. Would it ever come to her? - -She thought life had begun and ended too, for her, when one day Lady -Vaughan told her to come into her room--she wished to talk to her. The -girl followed her with a weary, hopeless expression on her face. "I am -going to have a lecture," she thought; "I have said a word too little or -a word too much." - -But, wonderful to say, Lady Vaughan was not prepared with a lecture. She -sat down in her great easy-chair and pointed to a footstool. Hyacinth -took it, wondering very much what was coming. - -"My dear Hyacinth," she began; "you are growing up now; you will be -quite a woman soon; and it is time you knew what Sir Arthur and I have -planned for you." - -She did not feel much interest in learning what it was--something -intolerably dull it was sure to be. - -"You know," continued Lady Vaughan, "there has never been the least -deception used toward you. You are the only child of our only son; but -it has never been understood that you were to be heiress of the Chase." - -"I should not like to have the Chase," said Hyacinth timidly. "I should -not know what to do with it." - -Lady Vaughan waved her hand in very significant fashion. - -"That is not the question. We have not brought you up as our heiress -because both Sir Arthur and I think that the head of our house must be a -gentleman. Of course you will have a dowry. I have money of my own, -which I intend to leave you. Mr. Adrian Darcy, of whom you have heard me -speak, will succeed to Queen's Chase--that is, if no other arrangement -takes him from us; should he have other views in life, the property will -perhaps be left differently. I cannot say. Sir Arthur and I wish very -much that you should marry Mr. Darcy." - -The girl looked up at the cold, formal face, with wonder in her own. Was -this to be her romance? Was this to be the end of all her dreams? -Instead of passing into a fairer, brighter world, was she to live always -in this? - -"How can I marry him?" she asked quickly. "I have never seen him." - -"Do not be so impetuous, Hyacinth. You should always repress all -exhibition of feeling. I know that you have never seen him. Mr. Darcy is -travelling now upon the Continent, and Sir Arthur thinks a short -residence abroad would be very pleasant for us. Adrian Darcy always -shows us the greatest respect. You will be sure to like him--he is so -like us; we are to meet him at Bergheim, and spend a month together, and -then we shall see if he likes you." - -"Does he know what you intend?" she asked half shyly. - -"Not yet. Of course, in families like our own, marriages are not -conducted as with the plebeian classes; with us they are affairs of -state, and require no little diplomacy and tact." - -"Was my father's a diplomatic marriage?" she asked. - -"No," replied Lady Vaughan, "your father pleased himself; but then, -remember, he was in a position to do so. He was an only son, and heir of -Queen's Chase." - -"And am I to be taken to this gentleman; if he likes me he is to marry -me; if not, what then?" - -The scornful sarcasm of her voice was quite lost on Lady Vaughan. - -"There is no need for impatience. Even then some other plan will suggest -itself to us. But I think there is no fear of failure--Mr. Darcy will be -sure to like you. You are very good-looking, you have the true Vaughan -face, and, thanks to the care with which you have been educated, your -mind is not full of nonsense, as is the case with some girls. I thought -it better to tell you of this arrangement, so that you may accustom your -mind to the thought of it. Everything being favorable, we shall start -for Bergheim in the middle of August, and then I shall hope to see -matters brought to a sensible conclusion." - -"It will not be of any consequence whether I like this Mr. Darcy or -not--will it, Lady Vaughan?" - -"You must try to cultivate a kindly liking for him, my dear. All the -nonsense of love and romance may be dispensed with. Well brought up as -you have been, you will find no difficulty in carrying out our wishes. -Now, draw that blind a little closer, my love, and leave me--I am -sleepy. Do not waste your time--go at once to the piano." - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -Having acquainted her young relative with the prospective arrangements -she had made for her, Lady Vaughan composed herself to sleep, and -Hyacinth quietly left the room. She dared not stop to think until she -was outside the door, in the free, fresh air; the walls of the old house -seemed to stifle her. Her young soul was awakened, but it rose in a hot -glow of rebellion against this new device of fate. She to be taken -abroad and offered meekly to this gentleman! If he liked her they were -to be married; if not, with the sense of failure upon her, she would -have to return to the Chase. The thought was intolerable. - -Was this the promised romance of her life? "It is not fair," cried the -girl passionately, as she paced the narrow garden paths--"it is not -just. Everything has liberty, love, and happiness--why should not I? The -birds love each other, the flowers are happy in the sun--why must I live -without love or happiness, or brightness? I protest against my fate." - -Were all the thousand tender and beautiful longings of her life to be -thus rudely treated? Was all the poetry and romance she had dreamed of -to end in "cultivating a kindly liking" and a diplomatic marriage? Oh, -no, it could not be! She shed passionate tears. She prayed, in her wild -fashion, passionate prayers. Better for her a thousand times had she -been commonplace, unromantic, prosaic--better that the flush of youth -and the sweet longings of life had not been hers. Then a break came in -the clouds--a change that was to be most fatal to her. One of the -families with whom Sir Arthur and Lady Vaughan were most intimate was -that of old Colonel Lennox, of Oakton Park. - -Colonel Lennox and his wife were both old; but one day they received a -letter from Mrs. Lennox, their sister-in-law, who resided in London, -saying how very pleased she should be to pay them a visit with her son -Claude. Mrs. Lennox was very rich. Claude was heir to a large fortune. -Still she thought Oakton Park would be a handsome addition, and it would -be just as well to cultivate the affection of the childless uncle. - -Mrs. Lennox and Claude came to Oakton. Solemn dinner-parties, at which -the young man with difficulty concealed his annoyance, were given in -their honor, and at one of these entertainments Hyacinth and Claude met. -He fell in love with her. - -In those days she was beautiful as the fairest dream of poet or artist. -In the fresh spring-tide of her young loveliness, she was something to -see and remember. She was tall, her figure slender and girlish, full of -graceful lines and curves that gave promise of magnificent womanhood. -Her face was of oval shape; the features were exquisite, the eyes of the -darkest blue, with long lashes; her lips were fresh and sweet; her mouth -was the most beautiful feature in her beautiful face--it was sweet and -sensitive, yet at times slightly scornful; the teeth were white and -regular; the chin was faultless, with a pretty dimple in it. - -It was not merely the physical beauty, the exquisite features and -glorious coloring that attracted; there were poetry, eloquence, and -passion within these. Looking at her, one knew instinctively that she -was not of the common order--that something of the poet and genius was -there. Her brow was fair and rounded at the temples, giving a great -expression of ideality to her face; her fair hair, soft and shining, -seemed to crown the graceful head like a golden diadem. - -Claude Lennox, in his half-selfish, half-chivalrous way, fell in love -with her. He said something to Lady Vaughan about her one day, and she -gave him to understand that her granddaughter was engaged. She did not -tell him to whom, nor did she say much about it; but the few words -piqued Claude, who had never been thwarted in his life. - -On the first day they met, his mother had warned him not to fall in love -with the beautiful girl, who might be an heiress or might have -nothing--to remember that in his position he could marry whom he would, -and not to throw himself away. - -Lady Vaughan, too, on her side, seemed much disposed to forbid him even -to speak to Hyacinth. If he proposed calling at Queen's Chase, she -either deferred his visit or took good care that Hyacinth should not be -in the way; and all this she did, as she believed, unperceived. It was -evident that Sir Arthur also was not pleased; though the old gentleman -was too courtly and polished to betray his feeling openly in the matter. -He did not like Claude Lennox, and the young man felt it. One day he met -the two young people together in a sequestered part of the Chase -grounds, and though he did not utter his displeasure, the stern, angry -look that he gave Claude, fully betrayed it. Hyacinth, whose glance had -fallen to the ground in a sudden accession of shyness that she scarce -understood, at her grandfather's approach, did not see his set, stern -face. Nor did Sir Arthur speak to her of the matter. On talking it over -to Lady Vaughan, the two old people concluded that a show of open -opposition might awaken a favor toward Claude in the young girl's heart -to which it was yet a stranger, and they contented themselves with -throwing every possible obstacle in the way of the young people's -intercourse. This was, in this case, mistaken policy. If the old -gentleman had spoken, he might have saved Hyacinth from unspeakable -misery, and his proud old name from the painful shadow of disgrace that -a childish folly was to bring upon it. The young girl stood greatly in -awe of her grandfather, but she respected him, and in a way loved him, -through her fears. And she was now being led, step by step, into folly, -through her own ignorance of its nature. - -Claude Lennox was piqued. He was young, rich, and handsome; he had been -eagerly sought by fashionable mothers. He knew that he could marry Lady -Constance Granville any day that he liked; he had more than a suspicion -that the pretty, coquettish, fashionable young widow, Mrs. Delamere, -liked him; Lady Crown Harley had almost offered him her daughter. Was he -to be defied and set at naught in this way--he, a Lennox, come of a race -who had never failed in love or war? No, it should never be; he would -win Hyacinth in spite of all. He disarmed suspicion by ceasing, when -they met, to pay her any particular attention. His lady-mother -congratulated herself; she retired to London, leaving her son at Oakton -Park. He said his visit was so pleasant that he could not bring it to a -close. The colonel, delighted with his nephew, entreated him to stay, -and Claude said, smiling to himself, that he had a fair field and all to -himself. - -His love for Hyacinth was half-selfish, half-chivalrous. It was pique -and something like resentment that made him first of all determined to -woo her, but he soon became so interested, that he believed his life -depended on winning her. She was so different from other girls. She was -child, poet, and woman. She had the brightest and fairest of fancies. -She spoke as he had never heard any one else speak--as though her lips -had been touched with divine fire. - -Fortune favored him. He went one morning to the Chase, and found Sir -Arthur and Lady Vaughan at home--alone. He did not mention Hyacinth's -name; but as he was going out, he gave one of the footmen a sovereign -and learned from him that Miss Vaughan was walking alone in the wood. -She had complained of headache, and "my lady" had sent her out into the -fresh air. - -Of course he followed her and found her. He made such good use of the -hour that succeeded, that she promised to meet him again. He was very -careful to keep her attention fixed on the poetry of such meetings; he -never hinted at the wrong of concealment, the dishonor of any thing -clandestine, the beauty of obedience; he talked to her only of love, and -of how he loved her and longed to make her his wife. She was very young, -very impressionable, very romantic; he succeeded completely in blinding -her to the harm and wrong she was doing; but he could not win from her -any acknowledgement of her love. She enjoyed the break in the dull -monotony of her life. She enjoyed the excitement of having to find time -to meet him. She liked listening to him; she liked to hear him praise -her beauty, and rave about his devotion to her. But did she love him? -Not if what the poets wrote was true--not if love be such as they -describe. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -So for three or four weeks of the beautiful summer, this little love -story went on. Claude Lennox was _au fait_ as to all the pretty wiles -and arts of love, he made a post-office of the trunk of a grand old -oak-tree--a trunk that was covered with ivy; he used to place letters -there every day, and Hyacinth would fetch and answer them. These letters -won her more than any spoken words; they were eloquently written and -full of poetry. She could read them and muse over them; their poetry -remained with her. - -When she was talking to him a sense of unreality used to come over -her--a vague, uncertain, dreamy kind of conviction that in some way he -was not true; that he was saying more than he meant, or that he had said -the same things before and knew them all by heart. His letters won her. -She answered them, and in those answers found some vent for the romance -and imagination that had never had an outlet before. Claude Lennox, as -he read them, wondered at her. - -"The girl is a genius," he said; "if she were to take to writing, she -would make the world talk of her. I have read all the poetry of the day, -but I have never read anything like these lines." - -Claude Lennox had been a successful man. He had not been brought up to -any profession--there was no need for it; he was to inherit a large -fortune from his mother, and he had already one of his own. He had lived -in the very heart of society; he had been courted, admired and flattered -as long as he could remember. Bright-eyed girls had smiled on him, and -fair faces grown the fairer for his coming. He had had many loves, but -none of them had been in earnest. He liked Hyacinth Vaughan better than -any one he had ever met. If her friends had smiled upon him and -everything had been _couleur de rose_, he would have loved lightly, have -laughed lightly, and have ridden away. But because, for the first time -in his life, he was opposed and thwarted, frowned upon instead of being -met with eagerness, he vowed that he would win her. No one should say -Claude Lennox had loved in vain. - -He was a strange mixture of vanity and generosity, of selfishness and -chivalry. He loved her as much as it was in his nature to love any one. -He felt for her; the descriptions she gave him of her life, its dull -monotony, its dreary gloom, touched his heart. Then, too, his vanity was -gratified; he knew that if he took such a peerlessly beautiful girl to -London as his wife, she would be one of the most brilliant queens of -society. He knew that she would create an almost unrivalled sensation. -So love, vanity, generosity, selfishness, chivalry, all combined, made -him resolve to win her. - -He knew that if he were to go to Queen's Chase and ask permission to woo -her, it would be refused him--she would be kept away from him and -hurried away to Germany. That was the honest, honorable course, but he -felt sure it was hopeless to pursue it. Man of the world as he was, the -first idea of an elopement startled him; then he became accustomed to -it, and began at last to think an elopement would be quite a romance and -a sensation. So, by degrees he broke it to her. She was startled at -first, and then, after a time, became accustomed to it. It would be very -easy, soon over, and when they were once married his mother would say -nothing; if the Vaughans were wise, they too would be willing to forgive -and say nothing. - -He found Hyacinth so simple, so innocent and credulous, that he had no -great difficulty in persuading her. If any thought of remorse came to -him--that, as the stronger of the two he was betraying his trust--he -quickly put the disagreeable reflection away--he intended to be very -kind to her after they were married, and to make her very happy. - -So he waited in some anxiety for the signal. It was not a matter of life -or death with him; neither did he consider it as such; but he was very -anxious, and hoped she would consent. The library window could be seen -from the park; he had but to walk across it, and then he could see. -Claude Lennox was almost ashamed to find how his heart beat, and how -nervously his eyes sought the window. - -"I did not think I could care about anything so much," he said to -himself; "I begin to respect myself for being capable of such devotion." - -It was early on Wednesday morning, but he had not been able to sleep. -Would she go, or would she refuse? How many hours of suspense must he -pass before he knew? The sun was shining gayly, the dew lay on the -grass--it was useless to imagine that she would be thinking of her -flowers; yet he could not leave the place--he must know. - -At one moment his hopes were raised to the highest point--it was not -likely that she would refuse. She would never be so foolish as to choose -a life of gloom and wretchedness instead of the golden future he had -offered her. Then again his heart sunk. An elopement! It was such a -desperate step; she would surely hesitate before taking it. He walked to -the end of the park, and then he returned. His heart beat so violently -when he raised his eyes that it seemed to him as if he could hear it--a -dull red flush rose to his face, his lips quivered. He had won--the -white flowers were there! - -There was no one to see him, but he raised his Glengarry cap from his -head and waved it in the air. - -"I have won," he said to himself; "now for my arrangements." - -He went back to Oakton Park in a fever of anxiety; he telegraphed from -Oakton Station to the kind old aunt who had never refused him a favor, -asking her, for particular reasons which he would explain afterward, to -meet him at Euston Square at 6 A.M. on Thursday. - -"There is some one coming with me whom I wish to put under your charge," -he wrote; and he knew she would comply with his request. - -He had resolved to be very careful--there should be no imprudence -besides the elopement; his aunt should meet them at the station, -Hyacinth should go home with her and remain with her until the hour -fixed for the wedding. - -Hyacinth had taken her life into her own hands, and the balance had -fallen. She had decided to go; this gray, dull, gloomy life she could -bear no longer; and the thought of a long, dull residence in a sleepy -German town with a relative of Lady Vaughan's positively frightened her. - -Claude had dazzled her imagination with glowing pictures of the future. -She did not think much of the right or wrong of her present behavior; -the romance with which she was filled enthralled her. If any one had in -plain words pointed out to her that she was acting badly, dishonorably, -deceitfully, she would have recoiled in dread and horror; but she did -not see things in their true colors. - -All that day Lady Vaughan thought her granddaughter very strange and -restless. She seemed unable to attend to her work; she read as one who -does not understand. If she was asked a question, her vacant face -indicated absence of mind. - -"Are you ill, Hyacinth?" asked Lady Vaughan at last. "You do not appear -to be paying the least attention to what you are doing." - -The girl's beautiful face flushed crimson. - -"I do not feel quite myself," she replied. - -Lady Vaughan was not well pleased with the answer. Ill-health or -nervousness in young people was, as she said, quite unendurable--she had -no sympathy with either. She looked very sternly at the sweet crimsoned -face. - -"You do not have enough to do, Hyacinth," she said gravely; "I must find -more employment for you. Miss Pinnock called the other day about the -clothing club; you had better write and offer your services." - -"As though life was not dreary enough," thought the girl, "without -having to sew endless seams by the hour!" - -Then, with a sudden thrill of joy, she remembered that her freedom was -coming. After this one day there would be no more gloom, no more tedious -hours, no more wearisome lectures, no more dull monotony; after this one -day all was to be sunshine, beauty, and warmth. How the day passed she -never knew--it was like a long dream to her. Yet something like fear -took possession of her when Lady Vaughan said: - -"It is growing late, Hyacinth; it is past nine." - -She went up to her and kissed the stern old face. - -"Good-night," she said simply with her lips, and in her heart she added -"good-by." - -She kissed Sir Arthur, who had never been quite so harsh with her and as -she closed the drawing-room door, she said to herself, - -"So I leave my old life behind." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -A beautiful night--not clear with the light of the moon, but solemn and -still under the pale, pure stars; there was a fitful breeze that -murmured among the trees, rippling the green leaves and stirring the -sleeping flowers. The lilies gleamed like pale spectres, the roses were -wet with dew; the deer lay under the trees in the park; there was hardly -a sound to break the holy calm. - -Queen's Chase lay in dark shadow under the starlight, the windows and -doors all fastened except one, the inmates all sleeping save one. The -great clock in the turret struck ten. Had any been watching, they would -have seen a faint light in the room where Hyacinth Vaughan slept; it -glimmered there only for a minute or two, and then disappeared. Soon -afterward there appeared at the library window a pale, sweet, frightened -face; the window slowly opened and a tall, slender figure, closely -wrapped in a dark gray cloak, issued forth from the safe shelter of -home, under the solemn stars, to take the false step that was to darken -her life for so many years. - -She stole along in the darkness and silence, between the trees, till -Claude came to her; and her heart gave a great bound at his approach, -while a crimson flush rose to her face. - -"My darling," he said, clasping her hand in his, "how am I to thank -you?" - -Then she began to realize in some faint degree what she had done. She -looked up at Claude's handsome, careless face, and began to understand -that she had given up all the world for him--all the world. - -"You are frightened, Hyacinth," he said, "but there is no need. Your -hand trembles, and your face is so pale that I notice it even by -starlight." - -"I am frightened," she confessed. "I have never been out at night -before. Oh, Claude, do you think I have done right?" - -He spoke cheerily: "That you have, my darling. Such gloomy cages were -never made for bright birds like you; let me see you smile before you go -one step further." - -It was almost midnight when they reached Oakton station; the few lamps -glimmered fitfully and there was no one about but the sleepy porters. - -"Keep your veil well drawn over your face, Hyacinth," he whispered; "I -will get the tickets. Sit down here and no one need see you." - -She obeyed him, trembling in every limb. She sat down on the little -wooden bench, her veil closely drawn over her face; her cloak wrapped -round her; and then, after what seemed to be but a moment of time, yet -was in reality over ten minutes, the train ran steaming into the -station. One or two passengers alighted. Claude took her hand and placed -her in a first-class carriage--no one had either seen or noticed her--he -sprang in after her, the door was shut, the whistle sounded, and the -train was off. - -"It is done!" she gasped, her face growing deadly white, and the color -fading even from her lips. She laid her head back on the cushion. "It is -done!" she repeated, faintly. - -"And you will see, my darling, that all is for the best." - -He would not allow her time to think or to grow dull. He talked to her -till the color returned to her face and the brightness to her eyes. They -looked together from the carriage windows, watching the shining stars -and the darkened earth, wondering at the beautiful, holy silence of -night, until the faint gray dawn broke in the skies. Then a mishap -occurred. - -The train had proceeded on its way safely enough until a station called -Leybridge had been reached. There the passengers for London leave it, -and await the arrival of the mail train. Hyacinth and Claude left the -carriage; the train they had travelled by went on. - -"We have not long to wait for the mail train," said Claude, "and then, -thank goodness, there will be no more changing until we reach London." - -The faint gray dawn of the morning was just breaking into rose and -gold. Hyacinth looked pale and cold; the excitement, the fatigue, and -the night travelling were rapidly becoming too much for her. - -They walked up and down the platform for a few minutes. A quarter of an -hour passed--half an hour--and then Claude, still true to his -determination that Hyacinth should not be seen, bade her to sit down -again while he went to inquire at the office the cause of delay. There -were several other passengers, for Leybridge Junction was no -inconsiderable one. - -Suddenly there seemed to arise a scene of confusion in the station. The -station master came out with a disturbed face; the porters were no -longer sleepy, but anxious. Then the rumor, whispered first with bated -breath, grew--"An accident to the mail train below Lewes. Thirty -passengers seriously injured and half as many killed. Traffic on the -line impossible." - -Claude heard the sad news with a sorrowful heart. He did not wish -Hyacinth to know it--it would seem like an omen of misfortune to her. -"When will the next train start for London?" he asked one of the -porters. - -"There is none between now and seven o'clock," the man replied. - -"Was there ever anything so unfortunate?" muttered Claude to himself. - -Leybridge was only twenty miles from Oakton. - -"I should not like any one to see me about the station," he thought; -"and Hyacinth is sure to be known here. How unfortunate that we should -be detained so near home!" He went out to her: "You must not lose -patience, Hyacinth," he said; "the mail train is delayed, and we have to -wait here until seven." - -She looked up at him, alarmed and perplexed. "Seven," she repeated--"and -now it is only three. What shall we do, Claude?" - -"If you are willing, we will go for a walk through the fields. I fancy -we shall be recognized if we stop here." - -"I am sure we shall--I have often been to Leybridge with Lady Vaughan." - -They went out of the station and down the quiet street; they saw an -opening that led to the fields. - -"You will like the fields better than anywhere else," said Claude, and -she assented. - -They crossed a stile that led into the fertile clover meadows. It seemed -as though the beauty and fragrance of the summer morning broke into -full glow to welcome them; the rosy clouds parted, and the sun shone in -the full lustre of its golden light; the trees, the hedges, the clover, -were all impearled with dew--the drops lay thick, shining and bright, on -the grass; there was a faint twitter of birds, as though they were just -awakening; the trees seemed to stir with new life and vigor. - -"Is this the morning?" said Hyacinth, looking round. "Why, Claude, it is -a thousand times more beautiful than the fulness of day!" - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - -Hyacinth and Claude stood together leaning against the stile. Something -in the calm beauty of the summer morning awoke the brightest and purest -emotions in him; something in the early song of the birds and in the -shining dewdrops made Hyacinth think more seriously than she had yet -done. - -"I wonder," she said, turning suddenly to her lover, "if we shall ever -look back to this hour and repent what we have done?" - -"I do not think so. It will rather afford subject for pleasant -reflection." - -"Claude," she cried suddenly, "what is that lying over there by the -hedge? It--it looks so strange." - -He glanced carelessly in the direction indicated. "I can see nothing," -he replied. "My eyes are not so bright as yours." - -"Look again, Claude. It is something living, moving--something human I -am sure! What can it be?" - -He did look again, shading his eyes from the sun. "There is something," -he said slowly, "but I cannot tell what it is." - -"Let us see, Claude; it may be some one ill. Who could it be in the -fields at this time of the morning?" - -"I would rather you did not go," said Claude; "you do not know who it -may be. Let me go alone." - -But she would not agree to it; and as they stood there, they heard a -faint moan. - -"Claude," cried the girl, in deep distress, "some one is ill or hurt; -let us go and render assistance." - -He saw that she was bent upon it and held out his hand to help her over -the stile. Then when they were in the meadow, and under the hedge, -screened from sight by rich, trailing woodbines, they saw the figure of -a woman. - -"It is a woman, Claude!" cried Hyacinth; and then a faint moan fell on -their ears. - -Hastening to the spot, she pushed aside the trailing eglantines. There -lay a girl, apparently not much older than herself, fair of face, with a -profusion of beautiful fair hair lying tangled on the ground. Hyacinth -bent over her. - -"Are you ill?" she asked. But no answer came from the white lips. -"Claude," cried Hyacinth, "she is dying! Make haste; get some help for -her!" - -"Let us see what is the matter first," he said. - -The sound of voices roused the prostrate girl. She sat up, looking -wildly around her, and flinging her hair from her face; then she turned -to the young girl, who was looking at her with such gentle, wistful -compassion. - -"Are you ill?" repeated Hyacinth. "Can we do any thing to help you?" - -The girl seemed to gather herself together with a convulsive shudder, as -though mortal cold had seized her. - -"No, I thank you," she said. "I am not ill. I am only dying by -inches--dying of misery and bad treatment." - -It was such a weary young face that was raised to them. It looked so -ghastly, so wretched, in the morning sunlight, that Hyacinth and Claude -were both inexpressibly touched. Though she was poorly clad, and her -thin, shabby clothes were wet with dew, and stained by the damp grass, -still there was something about the girl that spoke of gentle culture. - -Claude bent down, looking kindly on the dreary young face. - -"There is a remedy for every evil and every wrong," he said; "perhaps we -could find one for you." - -"There is no remedy and no help for me," she replied; "my troubles will -end only when I die." - -"Have you been sleeping under this hedge all night?" asked Hyacinth. - -"Yes. I have no home, no money, no food. Something seemed to draw me -here. I had a notion that I should die here." - -Hyacinth's face grew pale; there was something unutterably sad in the -contrast between the bright morning and the crouching figure underneath -the hedge. - -"Are you married?" asked Claude, after a short pause. - -"Yes, worse luck for me!" she replied, raising her eyes, with their -expression of guilt and misery, to his, "I am married." - -"Is your husband ill, or away from you? or what is wrong?" he pursued. - -"It is only the same tale thousands have to tell," she replied. "My -husband is not ill; he simply drinks all day and all night--drinks every -shilling he earns--and when he has drunk himself mad he beats me." - -"What a fate!" said Claude. "But there is a remedy--the law interferes -to protect wives from such brutality." - -"The law cannot do much; it cannot change a man's heart or his nature; -it can only imprison him. And then, when he comes out, he is worse than -before. Wise women leave the law alone." - -"Why not go away from him and leave him?" - -"Ah, why not? Only that I have chosen my lot and must abide by it. -Though he beats me and ill-treats me, I love him. I could not leave -him." - -"It was an unfortunate marriage for you, I should suppose," said -Hyacinth soothingly. The careworn sufferer looked with her dull, wistful -eyes into the girl's beautiful face. - -"I was a pretty girl years ago," she said, "fresh, and bright, and -pleasing. I lived alone with my mother, and this man who is now my -husband came to our town to work. He was tall, handsome, and strong--he -pleased my eyes; he was a good mechanic, and made plenty of money--but -he drank even then. When he came and asked me to be his wife, my mother -said I had better dig my grave with my own hands, and jump into it -alive, than marry a man who drank." - -She caught her breath with a deep sob. - -"I pleased myself," she continued, with a deep sigh; "I had my own way. -My mother was not willing for me to marry him, so I ran away with him." - -Hyacinth Vaughan's face grew paler. - -"You did what?" she asked gently. - -"I ran away with him," repeated the woman; "and, if I could speak now -with a voice that all the world could hear, I would advise all girls to -take warning by me, and rather break their hearts at home than run away -from it." - -Paler and paler grew the beautiful young face; and then Hyacinth -suddenly noticed that one of the woman's hands lay almost useless on -the grass. She raised it gently and saw that it was terribly wounded and -bruised. Her heart ached at the sight. - -"Does it pain you much?" she inquired. - -The woman laughed--a laugh more terrible by far than any words could -have been. - -"I am used to pain," she said. "I put that hand on my husband's shoulder -last night to beg him to stay at home and not to drink any more. He took -a thick-knotted stick and beat it; and yet, poor hand, it was not -harming him." Hyacinth shuddered. The woman went on, "We had a terrible -quarrel last night. He vowed that he would come back in the morning and -murder me." - -"Then why not go away? Why not seek a safe refuge?" - -She laughed again--the terrible, dreary laugh. "He would find me; he -will kill me some day. I know it; but I do not care. I should not have -run away from him." - -"Why not go home again?" asked Hyacinth. - -"Ah, no--there is no returning--no undoing--no going back." - -Hyacinth raised the poor bruised hand. - -"I am afraid it is broken," she said gently. "Let me bind it for you." - -She took out her handkerchief; it was a gossamer trifle--fine cambric -and lace--quite useless for the purpose required. She turned to Claude -and asked for his. The request was a small one, but the whole afterpart -of her life was affected by it. She did not notice that Claude's -handkerchief was marked with his name in full--"Claude Lennox." She -bound carefully the wounded hand. - -"Now," she said, "be advised by us; go away--don't let your husband find -you." - -"Go to London," cried Claude eagerly; "there is always work to be done -and money to be earned there. See--I will give you my address. You can -write to me; and I will ask my aunt or my mother to give you -employment." - -He tore a leaf from his pocket-book and wrote on it; "Claude Lennox, 200 -Belgrave Square, London." - -He looked very handsome, very generous and noble, as he gave the folded -note to the woman, with two sovereigns inside it. - -"Remember," he said, "that I promise my mother will find you some work -if you will apply to us." - -She thanked him, but no ray of hope came to her poor face. She did not -seem to think it strange that they were there--that it was unusual at -that early hour to see such as they were out in the fields. - -"Heaven bless you!" she said gratefully. "A dying woman's blessing will -not hurt you." - -"You will not die," said Claude cheerily; "you will be all right in -time. Do you belong to this part?" - -"No," she replied; "we are quite strangers here. I do not even know the -name of the place. We were going to walk to Liverpool; my husband -thought he should get better wages there." - -"Take my advice," said Claude earnestly--"leave him; let him go his own -road. Travel to London, and get a decent living for yourself there." - -"I will think of it," she said wearily; and then a vague unconsciousness -began to steal over her face. - -"You are tired," said Hyacinth gently; "lie down and sleep again. -Good-by." The birds were singing gayly when they turned to leave her. - -"Stay," said Claude; "what is your name?" - -"Anna Barratt," she replied; and only Heaven knows whether those were -the last words she spoke. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -The woman laid her weary head down again as one who would fain rest, and -they walked away from her. - -"We have done a good deed," said Claude thoughtfully; "saved that poor -woman from being murdered, perhaps. I hope she will do what I -advised--start for London. If my mother should take a fancy to her, she -could easily put her in the way of getting her living." - -To his surprise, Hyacinth suddenly took her hand from his, and broke out -into a wild fit of weeping. - -"My darling, what is it? Cynthy, what is the matter?" - -She sat down upon a large moss-covered stone and wept as though her -heart would break. The sight of those raining tears, the sound of those -deep-drawn sobs and passionate cries filled him with grief and dismay. -He knelt down by the girl's side, and tried to draw her hands from her -face. - -"Cynthy, you make me so wretched! Tell me what is wrong--I cannot bear -to see you so." - -Then the violence of her weeping abated. She looked at him. "Claude," -she said, "I am so sorry I left home--it is all so wicked and so wrong. -I must go back again." - -He started from her. "Do you mean that you are sorry you have come with -me, Hyacinth?" - -"Yes, very sorry," she sobbed. "I must go back. I did not think of -consequences. I can see them so plainly now. It is wicked to run away -from home. That poor woman did it, and see what has come to her. Claude, -I believe that Providence has placed that woman across my path, and that -the words she has spoken are a warning message." - -"That is all nonsense, Cynthy; there can be no comparison between the -two cases. I am not a ruffian like that woman's husband." - -"No you are not; but the step was wicked, Claude. I understand all now. -Be kind to me, and let me go back home." - -"Of course," said Claude sullenly, "I cannot run away with you against -your will. If you insist upon it, I will do as you ask; but it is making -a terrible simpleton of me." - -"You will forgive me," she returned. "You will say afterward that I -acted rightly. I shall be miserable, Claude--I shall never be happy -again--if I do not return home." - -"If you persist in this, we shall be parted forever," he said angrily. - -"It will be best," she replied. "Do not be angry with me, Claude. I do -not think--I--I love you enough to marry you and live with you always. I -have blinded myself with romance and nonsense. I do not love you--not -even so much as that poor woman loves her husband. Oh, Claude, let me -return home." - -She looked up at him, her face wet with tears, and an agony of entreaty -in her eyes. - -"You might have found this out before, Hyacinth. You have done me a -great wrong--you have trifled with me. If you had said before that you -did not love me, I should never have proposed this scheme." - -"I did not know," she said, humbly. "I am very sorry if I have wronged -you. I did not mean to pain you. It is just as though I had woke up -suddenly from an ugly dream. Oh, for my dear mother's sake, take me -home!" - -He looked down at her, for some few minutes in silence, vanity and -generosity doing hard battle together. The sight of her beautiful, -tearful face touched, yet angered him, he did not like to see it clouded -by sorrow; yet he could not bear to think that he must lose its -loveliness, and never call it his own. - -"Do you not love me, Hyacinth?" he asked sadly. - -"Oh, no--not as I should love you, to be your wife. I thought I did not, -but you said I did. I am quite sure of it, Claude; ever since we started -I have been thinking so." - -"Well, I must bear my disappointment like a man, I suppose," he said; -"and since you wish to go back, I suppose you must. But remember all -that you are going back to, Cynthy." - -"It is better to break one's heart at home than to run away from it," -she rejoined. - -"I see," he said quietly; "that woman has frightened you. I thought you -brave--you are a coward. I thought you capable of great sacrifice for my -sake--you are not so. You shall go home in safety and security, Miss -Vaughan." - -"Heaven bless you, Claude!" she cried. "You are very good to me." - -"I do not like it, mind," he said. "I think it is the shabbiest trick -that was ever played on any man. Still, your wishes shall be obeyed." -Without another word, they went back to the station. - -"I will inquire at what time the train leaves here for Oakton," he said. -"Stay outside, Hyacinth--it will not do for you to be seen now." - -She was very fortunate. A train went back to Oakton at six o'clock--a -quick train too--so that she would be there in little more than half an -hour. - -"Then," she said breathlessly, "I can walk quickly back again. I can get -into the grounds--perhaps into the house--unnoticed. I pray Heaven that -I may do so! If I may but once get safely freed from this danger, never -will I run into any more. How much would I not give to be once more safe -at home!" - -Claude looked as he felt--exceedingly angry. "I will accompany you," he -said, "as far as the Oakton station, and then I must walk back to the -park. I can only hope that I have not been missed. I will take care that -no woman ever makes such a simpleton of me again." - -He went to the booking-office and obtained two tickets. When the train -was ready for starting, and not before, he went to summon Hyacinth, and -by a little dexterous management, she got into a carriage unseen. - -They did not exchange words on that return journey; he was too -angry--too indignant; she was praying that she might reach home -safely--that she might not be too heavily punished for her sin. - -At last the train reached Oakton. There were few people at the station. -She gave up the ticket to the official, who little guessed who she was. - -"Thank Heaven," she said, with quivering lips. The next minute she was -on the road that led to the woods. Claude followed her. - -"We will say good-by here, Claude," she said, holding out her hand to -him. - -"And you were to have been my wife before noon!" he cried. "How cold, -how heartless women are!" - -"You should not have persuaded me," she said, with gentle dignity. "You -blinded me by talking of the romance. I forgot to think of the right and -wrong. But I will not reproach you. Good-by." - -He held her hand one minute; all the love he had felt for her seemed to -rise and overwhelm him--his face grew white with the pain of parting -from her. - -"You know that this good-by is forever," he said sadly; "you know that -we who were to have been all in all to each other, who were to have been -married by noon, will now in all probability never meet again." - -"Better that than an elopement," she returned "Good-by, Claude." - -He bent down and kissed her white brow; and then, without another word, -she broke from him, and hastened away, while he, strong man as he was, -lay sobbing on the grass. - -Fortune favored her. No one saw her hurrying back through the woods and -the pleasure-grounds. She waited until the back gates were all -unfastened, and the maid whose office it was to feed the bantams Lady -Vaughan was so proud of, came out. She spoke to her, and the maid -thought Miss Vaughan had come, as she had often done before, to watch -the feeding of the poultry. She wondered a little that the young lady -was dressed in a gray travelling cloak, and wore a thick veil. - -"Just for all the world," said the maid to herself, "as though she were -going on a long journey." She was struck, too, by the sound of Miss -Vaughan's voice; it was so weak, so exhausted; it had none of its usual -clear, musical tones. - -"Mary," said Hyacinth, at last, "do you think you could get me a cup of -tea from the kitchen? Breakfast will not be ready for some time yet." - -The good-natured maid hastened down into the kitchen, and soon returned -with a cup of hot, strong tea. Hyacinth drank it eagerly; her lips were -parched and dry. The tea revived her wonderfully. Suddenly Mary -exclaimed, - -"Oh, Miss Vaughan where have you been? Your cloak is covered with dust." - -"Hush, Mary," she said, with a forced smile. "Do not tell tales of me." -And then she hastened into the house. She met no one; her little room -was just as she had left it. No one had entered, nothing was disturbed. -She locked the door and fell on her knees. Rarely has maiden prayed as -Hyacinth Vaughan prayed then. How she thanked Providence--how her heart, -full of gratitude, was raised to Heaven! How she promised that for all -the remainder of her life she would be resigned and submissive. - -How safe and secure was this haven of home after all! She shuddered as -she thought of that dreadful night passed in the confusion of railway -travelling; of the woman whose pitiful story still rang in her ears. - -"Thank Heaven, I have escaped!" she cried. "With all my heart I offer -thanks!" - -Then she changed her dress and did her best to remove all traces of -fatigue, and when the breakfast bell rang she went down-stairs with a -prayer on her lips--she was so thankful, so grateful, for her escape. -Claude Lennox did not fare so well; he had been missed and the colonel -was very angry about it. - -"You have been dining with the officers again, I suppose," he said, "and -have spent the night over cards and wine. It is bad, sir--bad. I do not -like it. It is well Mrs. Lennox does not know it." - -He made no excuses; he said nothing to defend himself; all the servants -in the house knew there was a dispute between the colonel, their master, -and Mr. Lennox. - -"If my conduct does not please you, uncle," said the young man, "I can -go, you know." - -This threat somewhat mollified the colonel, who had no great wish to -quarrel with his handsome young nephew. - -"I have no wish to be harsh," he said, "but a whole night at cards is -too much." - -"I am sorry I have not pleased you," rejoined Claude. "I shall go back -to London on Saturday; my engagements will not permit me to remain here -after then." - -He was angry and annoyed; he had been baffled, irritated, placed in a -false and most absurd position; he did not care to remain at Oakton. He -could not endure to look at Hyacinth Vaughan's face again. But he did -not know what terrible events were to happen before Saturday. The -future, with its horrible shame and disgrace, was hidden from him. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -"What has come over the child?" thought Lady Vaughan to herself. "She is -so submissive, so quiet, so obedient, I hardly know her." - -For, though Lady Vaughan exercised Hyacinth's patience very severely the -whole of that day, in the packing up, no murmur escaped her lips; she -was very quiet and subdued, and made no complaint even when she heard -that they were to travel in a close carriage; no impetuous bursts of -song came from her lips--no half-murmured reply to Lady Vaughan's -homilies. That lady thought, with great complacency, how very -efficacious her few words must have been. - -"It is the prospect of being married, I suppose, that has made her so -good," she said to herself. - -She little knew that the girl's heart was weighed down with gratitude to -Heaven for an escape that she deemed almost miraculous. She little -thought how suddenly the quiet old home had become a sure refuge and -harbor to her--and how, for the first time in her life, Hyacinth clung -to it with love and fondness. - -She was busy at work all day, for they were to start early on the next -morning. She executed all Lady Vaughan's commissions--she did all her -errands--she helped in every possible way, thinking all the time how -fortunate she was--that the past two months were like a horrible dream -from which she had only just awoke. How could she have been so blinded, -so foolish, so mad? Ah, thank heaven, she had awoke in time! - -She was not afraid of discovery, though she knew perfectly well that, -if ever Lady Vaughan should know what she had done, she would never -speak to her again--she would not allow her to remain at Queen's Chase. -But there was no fear of her ever learning what she had done; thanks to -Claude's care, no one had recognized her--her secret was quite safe. But -the consciousness that she had such a secret, humiliated her as nothing -else could have done. Her grandmother might well wonder what brought -that expression of grateful contentment to her beautiful face. - -Then Lady Vaughan bade her go to rest early, for she must be up by -sunrise. She went, tears of gratitude filling her eyes. She was at home, -and so safe! - -She thought very kindly of Claude. She was sorry for his discomfiture, -and for the pain he suffered; but a sudden sense of womanly dignity had -come over her. - -"He should not have persuaded me," she said to herself over and over -again. "He knows the world better than I do; he is older than I am. He -should have been the one to teach me, and not to lead me astray." - -Still she felt kindly toward him, and she knew that, as time went on, -and the gloom of her home enclosed her again, she should miss him. She -was too grateful for her escape, however, too remorseful for what she -had done, to feel any great grief at losing him now. - -On the Thursday morning, when great events of which she knew nothing -were passing around her, Hyacinth rose early, and the bustle of -preparation began. They did not go to Oakton station. Sir Arthur had his -own particular way of doing every thing, and he chose to post to London. -He did not quite approve of railway travelling--it was levelling--all -classes were mixed up too much for his taste. So they drove in the grand -old family carriage to London, whence they travelled instate to Dover, -thence to Bergheim. - -As far as it was possible to make travelling dull, this journey was -rendered dull. Sir Arthur and Lady Vaughan seemed to have only one -dread, and that was of seeing and being seen. The blinds of the carriage -windows were all drawn. "They had not come abroad for scenery, but for -change of air," her ladyship observed several times each day. When it -was necessary to stay at a hotel, they had a separate suite of rooms. -There was no _table d'hote_, no mixing with other travellers; they were -completely exclusive. - -As they drew near Bergheim, Hyacinth's beautiful face grew calm and -serene. She even wondered what he would be like, this Adrian Darcy. He -was a scholar and a gentleman--but what else? Would he despise her as a -child, or admire her as a woman? Would he fall in love with her, or -would he remain profoundly indifferent to her charms? She was startled -from her reverie by Lady Vaughan's voice. - -"We will drive straight to the hotel," she said; "Mr. Darcy has taken -rooms for us there." - -"Shall we see him to-night?" asked Sir Arthur. - -"No, I should imagine not. Adrian is always considerate. He will know we -are tired, and consequently not in the best of moods for visitors," she -replied. "He will be with us to-morrow morning." - -And, strange to say, Hyacinth Vaughan, who had once put from her even -the thought of Adrian Darcy, felt some slight disappointment that she -was not to see him until the morrow. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -"This is something like life," thought Hyacinth Vaughan, as the summer -sun came streaming into her room. - -It was yet early in the morning, but there was a sound of music from the -gardens. She drew aside the blinds, and saw a lake in all its beauty, -the most cheerful, the brightest scene upon which she had ever gazed. - -The Hotel du Roi is by far the most aristocratic resort in Bergheim. -"Kings, queens, and emperors" have lodged there; some of the leading men -and the fairest women in Europe have at times made their home there. The -hotel has a certain aristocratic character of its own. Second-rate -people never go there; its magnificence is of too quiet and dignified a -kind. The gorgeous suites of rooms are always inhabited by some of the -leading Continental families. Bergheim itself is a sleepy little town. -The lake is very beautiful; tall mountains slope down to the edge; the -water is deep, clear, and calm; green trees fringe the banks; -water-lilies sleep on its tranquil breast. The Lake of Bergheim has -figured in poetry, in song, and in pictures. - -Hyacinth gazed at it with keen delight. Suddenly it struck her that the -house was not Lady Vaughan's, consequently not under her ladyship's -control, and that she could go out into those fairylike looking grounds -if she wished. - -She took her hat and a black lace shawl and went down-stairs. She was -soon reassured. She was doing nothing unusual. One or two ladies were -already in the gardens, and in one of the broad open paths she saw an -English nursemaid with some little children around her. Hyacinth walked -on with a light, joyous heart. She never remembered to have seen the -world so fair; she had never seen sunshine so bright, or flowers so -fair; nor had she ever heard such musical songs from the birds. - -Over the girl's whole soul, as she stood, there came a rapturous sense -of security and gratitude. She was safe; the folly, amounting almost to -sin, of her girlhood, was already fading into the obscurity of a dark, a -miserable dream. She was safe under heaven's blessed sunlight, life -growing fairer and more beautiful every hour. She was grateful for her -escape. - -Then it struck her that she heard the sound of falling water, and she -went down a long, vine-covered path--surely the loveliest picture in the -world. The vines had been trained so as to form a perfect arch; the -grapes hung in rich, ripe bunches; flowers grew underfoot; and at the -end of the grove was a high white rock from which water fell with a -rippling, rushing, musical sound, into a small clear pool. Hyacinth -looked at the scene in wonder. She had never seen anything so pretty in -her life. She went up to the water; it was cool, so clear, so fresh and -sparkling. She threw off her hat and plunged her hands into it. She -laughed aloud as the water ran foaming over them. She little dreamed -what a lovely picture she herself made standing under the shade of the -vines, her fair, brilliant face almost dazzling in the dim light, her -fair hair shining like gold. The morning breeze had brought the most -dainty and exquisite bloom to her face, her eyes were as bright as -stars, her lips like newly-blown roses, and, as she stood with the foam -rushing over her little white hands, the world might have searched in -vain for one more lovely. - -Then she thought how refreshing a draught of that sparkling water would -be. She gathered a large vine-leaf and filled it. She had just raised it -to her lips when a rich, deep, musical voice said: - -"Do not drink that water; it is not considered good." - -The vine-leaf fell from her hands, her face flushed crimson. She had -thought that she was quite alone. She looked around, but could see no -one. - -"I beg pardon if I have alarmed you," said the same voice, "but the -water of the fall is not considered good; it is supposed to come from -the lake." - -Then she looked in the direction whence the voice proceeded--a gentleman -was reclining on a rock by the waterfall. He had been reading, for an -open book lay by his side; but Hyacinth strongly suspected, from the -quiet smile on his lips and in his luminous eyes, that he had been -watching her. - -"I am afraid I startled you," he continued; "but the water is not so -clear as it looks." - -"Thank you," she returned, gently. - -He took up his book again, and she turned to leave the grove. But in -those few moments, the world had all changed for her. She walked out of -the vine grove, and sat down by the edge of the lake, trying to live -every second of those few minutes over again. - -What was that face like? Dark, beautiful, noble--the face of a king, -with royal brows, and firm, grave, yet sweet lips--a face that in her -girlish dreams she would have given to the heroes she loved--to King -Arthur--to the Chevalier Bayard--to Richard the Lion Heart--the face of -a man born to command, born to rule. - -She had looked at it for perhaps only two minutes, but she could have -sketched it accurately from memory. The dark hair was thrown back in -masses--not in effeminate curls, but in the same waving lines that may -be seen on the heads of famous Grecian statues; the forehead was white, -broad, well-developed, rounded at the temples, full of ideality, of -genius, of poetry, of thought; the brows were dark and straight as those -of a Greek god; the eyes luminous and bright--she could not tell what -they were like--they had dazzled her. The dark mustache did not hide a -beautiful mouth that had nothing effeminate in it. - -It was a face that filled her mind with thoughts of beauty. She mused -over it. There was nobility, power, genius, loyalty, truth, in every -feature. The voice had filled her ears with music. - -"I wish," she thought, "he had given me some other command; I should -like to obey him; I would do anything he told me; he has the face and -the voice of a king. I have read of god-like men; now I have seen one. -Shall I ever see him again? I can imagine that face flashing with -indignation, eloquent with pleading, royal in command, softened in -tenderness, eloquent in speech." - -Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of a bell. "That must be for -breakfast," she thought, and she hurried back to the house. She did not -see the stranger follow her, with a smile still on his face. - -Lady Vaughan was unusually gracious. - -"You have been out in the gardens, my dear," she said to the young girl, -who evidently expected a reproof. "That is right. You are looking very -well this morning." - -She spoke coldly; but in her heart she marvelled at the girl's wonderful -beauty. She had seen nothing so fair, so dainty, so brilliant as the -bloom that overspread her lovely face. "I have had a note from Mr. -Darcy," continued her ladyship, "and he will be with us before noon." - -During breakfast Lady Vaughan was more gracious than ever Hyacinth -remembered to have seen her. When it was over, she said to the girl: - -"I should like you to look your best, Cynthy, when Mr. Darcy comes. Make -a fresh toilet, and then amuse yourself as you like until I send for -you." - -Over the glowing dream of the morning the name of Adrian Darcy seemed to -fall like the breath of a cold east wind over flowers. She had for the -time almost forgotten him, and at the sound of his name a whole host of -disagreeable memories arose. - -"Never mind," she said to herself; "they cannot force me to marry him -against my will. I can tell him I do not like him." She went away, with -smiles on her lips and music in her heart, to change her dress, as Lady -Vaughan had desired. A surprise awaited her in her room; Pincott, Lady -Vaughan's maid, was standing before a large trunk. - -"These are dresses, Miss Vaughan," she said, "that my lady has ordered -from Paris for you. She did not tell you, because she wished to keep it -as a surprise for you." - -The girl's face flushed crimson. - -"For me!" she cried. "How kind of her! Oh, Pincott, how beautiful they -are!" - -The maid unfolded the glistening treasures of silk, lace, and velvet, -displaying them to Hyacinth's enraptured eyes. - -"My lady ordered me to attend to your toilet, this morning, Miss -Vaughan," continued Pincott, who knew perfectly well why her mistress -desired the young girl to look her best. "I have brought these blush -roses; no ornaments look so well as natural flowers." - -From the collection of dresses one of embroidered Indian muslin was -selected. It was daintily trimmed with pale pink ribbon and white lace, -and was exquisitely made. The girlish graceful figure, with its -beautiful curves and symmetrical lines, was shown to perfection; the -sleeves fell back, showing a fair, rounded arm. Pincott had great -natural taste; she dressed the fair hair after some simple girlish -fashion, and fastened a blush rose in it; she fastened another in the -high bodice of the white dress. - -"You look lovely, Miss Vaughan," she said; and Hyacinth, looking at her -fair flower-like face, blushed for her own great beauty. - -Then Pincott left her, and the way in which she amused herself was by -sitting at the open window, dreaming of the face she had seen at the -waterfall. She was roused by the maid's return. "Lady Vaughan will be -glad to see you in her room, Miss Vaughan. Mr. Darcy is there." - -Again the name fell like cold water over her, chilling her bright -dreams, her growing content and happiness: and again she consoled -herself by remembering that no one could force her to marry Mr. Darcy -against her will. She heard the sound of voices as she drew near the -room; she opened the door and entered, her beautiful face calm and -serene, looking as fair a picture of youth and loveliness as ever -greeted human eyes. "Hyacinth," said Lady Vaughan, "come here my dear. I -want to introduce you to Mr. Darcy." - -She went up to her. A tall figure stood near Lady Vaughan's chair. Lady -Vaughan took her hand. - -"This is my granddaughter. Hyacinth--Mr. Darcy." - -Hyacinth raised her eyes. Was she blinded by a great golden sunbeam? Was -she dreaming? Was she haunted or bewitched? Adrian Darcy, whom she had -dreaded to see, whose name even she had detested, was the same gentleman -that she had seen by the waterfall. - -When she remembered all she had been thinking and dreaming, it was no -wonder that the beautiful face grew crimson as a damask rose, and that -the bright eyes fell until he could see nothing of them. She was -spell-bound--this unknown hero of whom she had dreamed the whole summer -morning was Adrian Darcy! He held out his hand to her. - -"We are old friends," he said frankly. "I saw this young lady about to -drink some clear, cold, sparkling poison this morning, and I interfered -to prevent her doing so." - -Then he was obliged to explain to Lady Vaughan who smiled most -graciously; but Hyacinth said never a word. She could not realize the -truth, yet she sat like one blinded by a great flood of sunlight. If she -had known how this sweet shy confusion became her--how beautiful it -was--how Adrian Darcy admired it! Nothing could have charmed him half so -much. - -"How beautiful she is!" he thought. "She is like a rosebud shrouded in -green leaves." - -Hyacinth was almost in despair. - -"How stupid he will think me!" she reflected. "But I cannot help it--I -cannot speak." - -When she had collected her senses sufficiently to listen, Adrian was -saying-- - -"Yes; we have very good music here, indeed. I think the hotel gardens on -a bright summer day the most charming place I know. The fountains are -very beautiful; and the band is one of the best I have heard. Lady -Vaughan, I hear the music beginning now; will you allow me to escort -you? There are very comfortable seats in the gardens!" - -He saw the sudden, startled flush of joy in the young face. Hyacinth -raised her head and looked eagerly at her grandmamma; but Lady Vaughan -excused herself. - -"The journey has been delightful," she said, "but fatiguing. To-morrow I -will go out, but not to-day. Hyacinth will go, though, Adrian, if you -will be so kind as to give the child the pleasure." - -The "child" rose, her cheeks aflame, her heart beating as it had never -beat before. To go out into those sunlit gardens and to listen to music -with him--well, she had not even guessed before what a beautiful, happy -world it was. She put on the prettiest of her hats--one with a white -plume--and a lace mantilla, and then stood, half smiling, but wholly -happy, waiting for him. He came up to her smiling. - -"Hyacinth," he said, "we are--to use an old-fashioned term--of the same -kin; so I am not going to call you Miss Vaughan. And I want you not to -look so shy, but to feel quite at home with me." - -At home with him, this hero, this king amongst men, whose presence -filled her whole soul with light! It could never be. - -"I had no idea," he continued, "that I had such a fair young kinswoman. -Lady Vaughan had always written as though you were a child." - -Her heart sank. Was this how he thought of her--was this what made him -so kind and gracious to her? - -"I am not a child," she said, with some little attempt at dignity, "I am -more than eighteen." - -"Quite a philosophic age," was the smiling reply. "Now, Hyacinth, tell -me, what do you like to look at best--flowers, trees, or water?" - -"I like all three," she said truthfully. - -"Do you? Then I will find you a seat where you can see all. Here is one -not too near the music." - -He had found a quaint, pretty garden seat, under the shade of a tall -spreading tree. In front of them were beds of lilies and roses, and the -blue waters of the lake. The band began to play the sad, passionate -music of Verdi's "Miserere;" and to Hyacinth Vaughan it seemed as though -the earth had changed into heaven. - -"Do you like music?" he said watching the changes on the beautiful young -face. - -"Yes," she replied, "but I have heard so little." - -"You have had a very quiet life at Queen's Chase, I should imagine," he -said. - -"Yes, as quiet as life could well be." - -"You should not regret it. I am quite of the old _regime_. I think young -girls should be so reared." - -"For what reason?" she asked. - -"For a hundred reasons. If there is one character I detest more than -another, it is that of a worldly woman. Delicacy, purity, refinement, -are all so essential--and no girl can possess them brought up under the -glare and glitter of the world. You have been singularly fortunate in -living at Queen's Chase." - -"Thank Heaven," she thought to herself, "that he does not know the -shameful escape I tried to make--that he does not know how I loathed and -hated the place." - -"But," she said aloud, "it is not pleasant to be always dull." - -"Dull! No. Youth is the very time for enjoyment; every thing rejoices in -youth. You, for instance, have been happy with your books and flowers at -Queen's Chase: the world now is all new to you. You are not what -fashionable jargon calls 'used up.' You have not been playing at being a -woman while you were yet a child; your heart has not been hardened by -flirtations; your soul has not been soiled by contact with worldlings; -you are fresh, and pure, and beautiful as the flowers themselves. If you -had been living all these years in the hot-bed of society, this would -not have been the case. There is nothing so detestable, so unnatural, as -a worldly young girl." - -He liked her as she was! For the first time in her life Hyacinth blessed -Lady Vaughan and Queen's Chase. - -"I do not want to tire you with argument," he continued, "but tell me -Hyacinth, what becomes of a flower, the growth of which has been -forced?" - -"It soon dies," she replied. - -"Yes; and girls brought up in the artificial atmosphere of modern -society, and its worship of Mammon, its false estimates, its love of -sensation and excitement, soon die to all that is fairest and best in -life. You," he continued, "enjoy--see, your face tells tales, -Hyacinth--you enjoy the sunshine, the flowers, the music, the lake." - -"Yes, indeed I do," she confessed. - -"If you had danced and flirted through one or two London seasons, you -would not enjoy nature as you do; it would pall upon you--you would be -apt to look at it through an eye-glass, and criticise the color of the -water and the tints of the flowers--you would detect motes in the -sunbeam and false notes in music." - -She laughed. "I should not be so keen a critic, Mr. Darcy." - -"One who can criticise is not always one who enjoys most," he said. "I -like to see people honestly enjoying themselves, and leaving criticism -alone." - -The gardens were not crowded; there were seldom visitors enough at the -hotel to form a crowd; but Hyacinth was struck by the pleasant, -high-bred faces and elegant dresses. - -"Do you see that lady there in the gray dress," said Mr. Darcy--"the one -with two children by her side?" Hyacinth looked in the direction -indicated. - -"That is the Princess Von Arten, the daughter of a queen. How simple and -unassuming she is! She is staying here with her children. The gentleman -now saluting her is the eminent Weilmath." - -Her face lighted up. - -"I am glad to have seen him," she said; "I have read of him so often. Do -you admire him?" - -"I admire bravery," he replied, "but not unscrupulous daring. Do you -see that lady sitting under the ilex tree?" - -"The one with the sad, thoughtful face?" asked Hyacinth. - -"Yes. Twelve months ago she was the leading star of the most brilliant -court in Europe; now she has no home that she can call her own." - -Hyacinth turned her face to his. - -"Mr. Darcy," she said, "is the world then so full of reverses? I thought -that, when one was happy and prosperous, sorrow and trouble did not -approach. What is stable if money, and friendship, and happiness fail?" - -"Just one thing," he replied, with the beautiful luminous smile she had -never seen on any other face--"Heaven!" - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -Hyacinth Vaughan repeated one sentence over and over again to -herself--they were always the same words--"Thank Heaven, Adrian does not -know what I have done." - -For, as the days passed on, she learned to care for him with a love that -was wonderful in its intensity. It was not his personal beauty that -impressed her. By many people Claude Lennox would have been considered -the handsomer man of the two. It was the grandeur of Adrian Darcy's -character, the loyalty and nobility of his most loyal soul; the beauty -of his mind, the stretch and clearness of his intellect, that charmed -her. - -She had never met any one like him--never met so perfect a mixture of -chivalry and strength. She learned to have the utmost reliance upon him. -His most lightly spoken word was to her as the oath of another. She saw -that every thought, every word, every action of his was so perfectly -correct that his least judgment was invaluable. If he said a thing was -right, the whole world could not have made her think it wrong; if he -disapproved of anything, so entire was her reliance upon him, that she -could not be brought to consider it right. - -It seemed so strange that she should have been so ready to run away, so -as to escape this Adrian Darcy; and now the brightest heaven of which -she could dream was his friendship--for his love, after she understood -him, she could hardly hope. - -"How can he care for a child like me," she was accustomed to ask -herself, "uninformed, inexperienced, ignorant? He is so great and so -noble, how can he care for me?" - -She did not know that her sweet humility, her graceful shyness, her -_naivete_, her entire freedom from all taint of worldliness, was more -precious to him, more charming, than all the accomplishments she could -have displayed. - -"How can I ever have thought that I loved Claude?" she said to herself. -"How can I have been so blind? My heart never used to beat more quickly -for his coming. If I had had the same liberty, the same amusements and -pleasures which other girls have, I should never have cared for him. It -was only because he broke the monotony of my life, and gave me something -to think of." - -Then in her own mind she contrasted the two men--Adrian, so calm, so -dignified, so noble in thought, word, and deed, and so loyal, so -upright; Claude, all impetuosity, fire, recklessness and passion--not to -be trusted, not to be relied upon. There was never a greater difference -of character surely than between these two men. - -She learned to look with Adrian's eyes, to think with his mind; and she -became a noble woman. - -Life at Bergheim was very pleasant; there was no monotony, no dreariness -now. Her first thought when she woke in the morning, was that she should -see Adrian, hear him speak, perhaps go out with him. Quite unconsciously -to herself, he became the centre of her thoughts and ideas--the soul of -her soul, the life of her life. She did not know that she loved him; -what she called her "love" for Claude had been something so -different--all made up of gratified vanity and love of change. The -beautiful affection rapidly mastering her was so great and reverent, it -filled her soul with light, her heart with music, her mind with beauty. -She did not know that it was love that kept her awake throughout the -night thinking of him, bringing back to her mind every word he had -spoken--that made her always anxious to look well. - -"I always thought," she said to him one day, "that grave and thoughtful -people always despised romance." - -"They despise all affectation and caricature of it," he replied. - -"Since I have been out in the world and have listened to people -talking, I have heard them say, 'Oh, she is romantic!' as though romance -were wrong or foolish." - -"There is romance and romance," he said; "romance that is noble, -beautiful and exalting; and romance that is the overheated sentiment of -foolish girls. What so romantic as Shakespeare? What love he paints for -us--what passion, what sadness! Who more romantic than Fouque? What wild -stories, what graceful, improbable legends he gives us! Yet, who sneers -at Shakespeare and Fouque?" - -"Then why do people apply the word 'romantic' almost as a term of -reproach to others?" - -"Because they misapply the word, and do not understand it. I plead -guilty myself to a most passionate love of romance--that is, romance -which teaches, elevates, and ennobles--the soul of poetry, the high and -noble faculty that teaches one to appreciate the beautiful and true. You -know, Hyacinth, there are true romance and false romance, just as there -are true poetry and false poetry." - -"I can understand what you call true romance, but not what you mean by -false," she said. - -"No; you are too much like the flower you are named after to know much -of false romance," he rejoined. "Everything that lowers one's standard, -that tends to lower one's thoughts, that puts mere sentiment in the -place of duty, that makes wrong seem right, that leads to underhand -actions, to deceit, to folly--all that is false romance. Pardon my -alluding to such things. The lover who would persuade a girl to deceive -her friends for his sake, who would persuade her to give him private -meetings, to receive secret letters--such a lover starts from a base of -the very falsest romance; yet many people think it true." - -He did not notice that her beautiful face had suddenly grown pale, and -that an expression of fear had crept into her blue eyes. - -"You are always luring me into argument, Hyacinth," he said, with a -smile. - -"Because I like to hear you talk," she explained. She did not see how -full of love was the look he bent on her as he plucked a spray of azalea -flowers and passed it to her. Through the tears that filled her downcast -eyes she saw the flower, and almost mechanically took it from his hand, -not daring to look up. But in the silence of her own room she pressed -the flowers passionately to her lips and rained tears upon them, as she -moaned, "Oh, if he knew, what would he think of me? what would he -think?" - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -Hyacinth Vaughan was soon to learn more of Mr. Darcy's sentiments. He -was dining with them one day, when the conversation turned upon some -English guests who had arrived at the hotel the evening before--Lord and -Lady Wallace. - -"She looks quite young," said Lady Vaughan. "She would be a nice -companion for Hyacinth." - -Mr. Darcy, to whom she was speaking, made no reply. Lady Vaughan noticed -how grave his face had grown. - -"Do you not think so, Adrian?" she asked. - -"Since you wish me to speak, my answer is, no; I do not think so." - -"Do you mind telling me why?" pursued Lady Vaughan "I have been so long -out of the world I am ignorant of its proceedings." - -"I would rather you would not ask me, Lady Vaughan," he said. - -"And I would rather hear what you have to tell," she persisted, with a -smiling air of command that he was too courteous not to obey. - -"I do not think Lady Wallace would be a good companion for Hyacinth, -because she is what people of the period call 'fast.' She created a -great sensation three years ago by eloping with Lord Wallace. She was -only seventeen at the time." - -Lady Vaughan looked slightly disgusted; but Hyacinth, who perhaps felt -in some measure that she was on her trial, said: "Perhaps she loved -him." - -Adrian turned to her eagerly. "That is what I was trying to explain to -you the other day--false romance--how the truest, the purest, the -brightest romance would have been, not eloping--which is the commonplace -instinct of commonplace minds--but waiting in patience. Think of the -untruths, the deceit, the false words, the underhand dealings that are -necessary for an elopement!" - -"But surely," said Lady Vaughan, "there are exceptions?" - -"There may be. I do not know. I am only saying what I think. A girl who -deceives all her friends, who leaves home in such a fashion, must be -devoid of refinement and delicacy--not to mention truth and honesty." - -"You are very hard," murmured Hyacinth. - -"Nay," he rejoined, turning to her with infinite tenderness of manner; -"there are some things in which one cannot be too hard. Anything that -touches the fair and pure name of a woman should be held sacred." - -"You think highly of women," she said. - -"I do--so highly that I cannot bear even a cloud to shadow the fairness -and brightness that belong to them. A woman's fair name is her -inheritance--her dower. I could not bear, had I a sister, to hear her -name lightly spoken by light lips. What the moss is to the rose, what -green leaves are to the lily, spotless repute is to a woman." - -As he spoke the grave words, Hyacinth looked at him. How pure, how noble -the woman must be who could win his love! - -"Ah me, ah me!" thought the girl, with a bitter sigh, "what would he say -to me if he knew all? Who was ever so near the scandal he hated as I -was? Oh, thank Heaven, that I drew back in time, and that mine was but -the shadow of a sin!" - -There were times when she thought, with a beating heart, of what Lady -Vaughan had said to her--that it was her wish Adrian Darcy should marry -her. The lot that had once seemed so hard to her was now so bright, so -dazzling, that she dared not think of it--when she remembered it, her -face flushed crimson. - -"I am not worthy," she said over and over again to herself--"I am not -worthy." - -She thought of Adrian's love as she thought of the distant stars in -heaven--bright, beautiful, but far away. In her sweet humility, she did -not think there was anything in herself which could attract him. She -little dreamed, how much he admired the loveliness of her face, the -grace of her girlish figure, the purity, the innocence, the simplicity -that, despite the shadow of a sin, still lingered with her. - -"She is innately noble," he said one day to Lady Vaughan. "She is sure -always to choose the nobler and better part; her ideas are naturally -noble, pure, and correct. She is the most beautiful combination of child -and woman that I have ever met. Imagination and common sense, poetry, -idealisms and reason, all seem to meet in her." - -Years ago, Adrian Darcy had heard something of Lady Vaughan's -half-expressed wish that he should marry her granddaughter. He laughed -at it at the time; but he remembered it with a sense of acute pleasure. -His had been a busy life; he had studied hard--had carried off some of -the brightest honors of his college--and, after leaving Oxford, had -devoted himself to literary pursuits. He had written books which had -caused him to be pronounced one of the most learned scholars in England. -He cared little for the frivolities of fashion--they had not interested -him in the least--yet his name was a tower of strength in the great -world. - -Between Adrian Darcy and the ancient Barony of Chandon there was but the -present Lord Chandon, an old infirm man, and his son, a sickly boy. -People all agreed that sooner or later Adrian must succeed to the -estate; great, therefore, was the welcome he received in Vanity Fair. -Mothers presented their fairest daughters to him; fair-faced girls -smiled their sweetest smiles when he was present; but all was in -vain--the world and the worldly did not please Adrian Darcy. He cared -more for his books than woman's looks; he had never felt the least -inclination to fall in love until he met Hyacinth Vaughan. - -It was not her beauty that charmed him, although he admitted that it was -greater than he had ever seen. It was her youth, her simplicity, her -freedom from all affectation, the entire absence of all worldliness, the -charm of her fresh, sweet romance, that delighted him. She said what she -thought, and she expressed her thoughts in such beautiful, eloquent -words that he delighted to listen to them. He was quite unused to such -frank, sweet, candid simplicity--it had all the charms of novelty for -him. He had owned to himself, at last, that he loved her--that life -without her would be a dreary blank. - -"If I had never met her," he said to himself, "I should never have loved -anyone. In all the wide world she is the only one for me." He wondered -whether he could speak to her yet of his love. "She is like some shy, -bright bird," he said to himself, "and I am afraid of startling her. She -is so simple, so child-like, in spite of her romance and poetry, that I -am half afraid." - -His manner to her was so chivalrous that it was like the wooing of some -gracious king. She contrasted him over and over again with -Claude--Claude, who had respected her girlish ignorance and inexperience -so little. So the sunny days glided by in a dream of delight. Adrian -spent all his time with them; and one day Lady Vaughan asked him what -he thought of his chance of succeeding to the Barony of Chandon. - -"I think," he replied slowly, "that sooner or later it must be mine." - -"Do you care much for it?" she asked. "Old people are always -inquisitive, Adrian--you must forgive me." - -"I care for it in one sense," he replied; "but I cannot say honestly -that title or rank give me any great pleasure. I would rather be Adrian -Darcy, than Baron Chandon of Chandon. But, Lady Vaughan, I will tell you -something that I long for, that I covet and desire." - -"What is it?" she asked, looking at the handsome face, flushed, eager, -and excited. - -"It is the love of Hyacinth Vaughan," he answered. "I love her--I have -never seen anyone so simple, so frank, so _spirituelle_. I love her as I -never thought to love any woman. If I do not marry her, I will never -marry anyone. I have your permission, I know; but she is so shy, so coy, -I am afraid to speak to her. Do you think I have any chance, Lady -Vaughan?" - -She raised her fair old face to his. - -"I do," she replied. "Thanks to our care, the girl's heart is like the -white leaf of a lily. No shadow has ever rested on her. She has not been -flirted with and talked about. I tell you honestly, Adrian, that the -lilies in the garden are not more pure, more fair, or fresh than she." - -"I know it," he agreed; "and, heaven helping me, I will so guard and -shield her that no shadow shall ever fall over her." - -"She has never had a lover," continued Lady Vaughan. "Her life has been -a most secluded one." - -"Then I shall try to win her," he said; and when he had gone away Lady -Vaughan acknowledged to herself that the very desire of her heart was -near being gratified. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -It may be that Hyacinth Vaughan read Adrian Darcy's determination in his -face, for she grew so coy and frightened that had he not been brave he -would have despaired. If by accident she raised her eyes and met his -glance her face burned and her heart beat; when he spoke to her it was -with difficulty she answered him. She had once innocently and eagerly -sought his society--she had loved to listen to him while he was talking -to Lady Vaughan--she had enjoyed being with him as the flowers enjoy the -sunlight. But something was awake in her heart and soul which had been -sleeping until now. When she saw Adrian, her first impulse was to turn -aside and fly, no matter whither, because of the sweet pain his presence -caused her. He met her one morning in the broad corridor of the hotel; -she looked fresh and bright, fair and sweet as the morning itself. Her -face flushed at his coming, she stopped half undecided whether to go on -or turn and fly. - -"Hyacinth," he said, holding out his hand in greeting, "it seems an age -since I have had any conversation with you. Where do you hide yourself? -What are you always doing?" - -Then he paused and looked at her--admiration, passion, and tenderness -unspeakable in his eyes. She little knew how fair a picture she -presented in her youthful loveliness and timidity--how graceful and pure -she was in her girlish embarrassment. - -"Have you not one word of greeting, Hyacinth? It is the morning of a -fresh day. I have not seen you since the noon of yesterday. Speak to -me--after your own old bright way. Why, Hyacinth, what has changed you? -We used to laugh all the sunny summer day through, and now you give me -only a smile. What has changed you?" - -She never remembered what answer she made him, nor how she escaped. She -remembered nothing until she found herself in her own room, her heart -beating, her face dyed with burning blushes, and her whole soul awake -and alarmed. - -"What has changed me?" she asked. "What has come over me? I know--I -know. I love him!" - -She fell on her knees and buried her face in her hands--she wept -passionately. - -"I love him," she said--"oh, Heaven, make me worthy to love him!" - -She knelt in a kind of waking trance, a wordless ecstasy. She loved him; -her heart was awake, her soul slept no more. That was why she dreaded -yet longed to meet him--why his presence gave her pain that was sweeter -than all joy. - -This paradise she had gained was what, in her blindness and folly she -had flown from; and she knew now, as she knelt there, that, had all the -treasures of earth been offered to her, had its fairest gifts been laid -at her feet, she would have selected this from them. - -At last the great joy, the great mystery, the crowning pleasure of -woman's life, was hers. She called to mind all that the poets had -written of love. Was it true? Ah, no! It fell a thousand fathoms short. -Such happiness, such joy as made music in her heart could not be told in -words, and her face burned again as she remembered the feeble sentiment -that she had dignified by the name of love. Now that she understood -herself, she knew that it was impossible she could ever have loved -Claude Lennox; he had not enough grandeur or nobility of character to -attract her. - -When she went down to the _salon_, Sir Arthur and Adrian were there -alone; she fled like a startled fawn. He was to dine with them that day, -and she spent more time than usual over her toilet. How could she make -herself fair enough in the eyes of the man who was her king? Very fair -did she look, for among her treasures she found an old-fashioned -brocade, rich, heavy, and beautiful, and it was trimmed with rich point -lace. The ground was white, with small rosebuds embroidered on it. The -fair, rounded arms and white neck shone out even fairer than the white -dress; a few pearls that Lady Vaughan had given her shone like dew-drops -in the fair hair. She looked both long and anxiously in the mirror, so -anxious was she to look well in his eyes. - -"Miss Vaughan grows quite difficult to please," said Pincott to her -mistress, later on; and Lady Vaughan smiled. - -"There may be reasons," she returned; "we have all been young once--we -must not quite forget what youth is like. Ah--there is the dinner-bell." - -But, as far as the mere material dinner was concerned, Adrian did not -show to great advantage; it was impossible to eat while that lovely -vision in white brocade sat opposite to him. - -"She flies from me--she avoids me," he thought; "but she shall listen. I -have tamed the white doves--I have made the wildest, brightest -song-birds love me and eat from my hands. She shall love me, too." - -He could not succeed in inducing her to look at him; when he spoke she -answered, but the sweet eyes were always downcast. - -"Never mind. She shall look at me yet," he thought. - -After dinner he asked her to sing. She saw with alarm that if she did so -she would be alone with him--for the piano was at the extreme end of the -room. So she excused herself, and he understood perfectly the reason -why. - -"Will you play at chess?" he asked. - -Not for the wealth of India could she have managed it. - -"I shall win you," his eyes seemed to say. "You may try to escape. -Flutter your bright wings, my pretty bird; it is all in vain." - -Then he asked her if she would go into the grounds. She murmured some -few words of apology that he could hardly hear. A sudden great love and -sweetest pity for her youth and her timidity came over him. "I will be -patient," he said to himself; "the shy bird shall not be startled. In -time she will learn not to be so coy and timid." - -So he turned away and asked Sir Arthur if he should read the leading -article from the _Times_ to him, and Sir Arthur gratefully accepted the -offer. Lady Vaughan, with serenely composed face, went to sleep. -Hyacinth stole gently to the window; she wanted no books, no music; a -fairyland was unfolded before her, and she had not half explored it. She -only wanted to be quite alone, to think over and over again how -wonderful it was that she loved Adrian Darcy. - -"Come out," the dewy, sleepy flowers seemed to say. "Come out," sung the -birds. "Come out," whispered the wind, bending the tall magnolia trees -and spreading abroad sweet perfume. She looked round the room; Lady -Vaughan was fast asleep, Sir Arthur listening intently, and Adrian -reading to him. "No one will miss me," she thought. - -She took up a thin shawl that was lying near, opened the long window -very gently, and stepped out. But she was mistaken: some one did miss -her, and that some one was Adrian. No gesture, no movement of hers ever -escaped him. She was gone out into the sweet, dewy, fragrant gloaming, -and he longed to follow her. - -He read on patiently until--oh, pleasant sight!--he saw Sir Arthur's -eyes begin to close. He had purposely chosen the dryest articles, and -had read slowly until the kind god Morpheus came to his aid, and Sir -Arthur slept. Then Adrian rose and followed Hyacinth. The band was -playing at the further end of the gardens, and Mozart's sweet music came -floating through the trees. - -It was such a dim pleasant light under the vines, and the music of the -dripping water was so sweet. His instinct had not deceived him: -something white was gleaming by the rock. He walked with quiet steps. -She was sitting watching the falling waters, looking so fair and lovely -in that dim green light. He could contain himself no longer; he sprung -forward and caught her in his arms. - -"I have found you at last, Hyacinth," he said--"I have found you at -last." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -Hyacinth Vaughan turned round in startled fear and wonder, and then she -saw her lover's face, and knew by her womanly instinct what was coming. -She made no effort to escape; she had been like a frightened, -half-scared bird, but now a great calm came over her, a solemn and -beautiful gladness. - -"Hyacinth, forgive me," he said--"I have been looking for you so long. -Oh, my darling, if ever the time should come that I should look for you -and not find you, what should I do?" - -In this, one of the happiest moments of his life, there came to him a -presentiment of evil--one of those sharp, sudden, subtle instincts for -which he could never account--a sense of darkness, as though the time -were coming when he should look for that dear face and not find it, -listen for the beloved voice and not hear it--when he should call in -vain for his love and no response meet his ears. All this passed through -his mind in the few moments that he held her in his arms and looked in -her pure, faultless face. - -"Have I startled you?" he asked, seeing how strangely pale and calm it -had grown. "Why have you been so cruel to me, Hyacinth? Did you not know -that I have been seeking for you all day, longing for five minutes with -you? For, Hyacinth, I want to ask you something. Now you are -trembling--see how unsteady these sweet hands are. I do not want to -frighten you, darling; sit down here and let us talk quietly." - -They sat down, and for a few moments a deep silence fell over them, -broken only by the ripple of the water and the sound of distant music. - -"Hyacinth," said Adrian, gently, "I little thought, when I came here -four short weeks since, thinking of nothing but reading three chapters -of Goethe before breakfast, that I should find my fate--the fairest and -sweetest fate that ever man found. I believe that I loved you then--at -that first moment--as dearly as I love you now. You seemed to creep into -my heart and nestle there. Until I die there will be no room in my heart -for any other." - -She sat very still, listening to his passionate words, letting her hands -lie within his. It seemed to her like a king coming to take possession -of his own. - -"I can offer you," he said, "the deepest, best, and purest, love. It has -not been frittered away on half a dozen worthless objects. You are my -only love. I shall know no other. Hyacinth, will you be my wife?" - -It had fallen at last, this gleam of sunlight that had dazzled her so -long by its brightness; it had fallen at her feet, and it blinded her. - -"Will you be my wife, Hyacinth? Do not say 'Yes' unless you love me; nor -because it is any one's wish; nor because Lady Vaughan may have said, -'It would be a suitable arrangement.' But say it if you love me--if you -are happy with me." - -He remembered in after-years how what she said puzzled him. She clasped -her little white hands; she bent her head in sweetest humility. - -"I am not worthy," she whispered. - -He laughed aloud in the joy of his heart. "Not worthy? I know best about -that, Hyacinth. I know that from the whole world I choose you for my -wife, my queen, my love, because you are the fairest, the truest, the -purest woman in it. I know that, if a king were kneeling here in my -place, your love would crown him. It is I who am not worthy, sweet. What -man is worthy of love so pure as yours? Tell me, Hyacinth, will you be -my wife?" - -The grave pallor left her face; a thousand little gleams and lights -seemed to play over it. - -"My wife--to love me, to help me while we both live." - -"I--I cannot think that you love me," she said, gently. "You are so -gifted, so noble, so clever--so brave and so strong." - -"And what are you?" he asked, laughingly. - -"I am nothing--nothing, that is, compared to you." - -"A very sweet and fair nothing. Now that you have flattered me, listen -while I tell you what you are. To begin, you are, without exception, -the loveliest girl that ever smiled in the sunshine. You have a royal -dowry of purity, truth, innocence and simplicity, than which no queen -ever had greater. All the grace and music of the world, to my mind, are -concentrated in you. I can say no more, sweet. I find that words do not -express my meaning. All the unworthiness is on my side--not on yours." - -"But," she remonstrated, "some day you will be a very rich, great man, -will you not?" - -"I am what the world calls rich, now," he replied, gravely. "And--yes, -you are right, Hyacinth--it is most probable that I may be Baron Chandon -of Chandon some day. But what has that to do with it, sweet?" - -"You should have a wife who knows more than I do--some one who -understands the great world." - -"Heaven forbid!" he said, earnestly. "I would not marry a worldly woman, -Cynthy, if she brought me Golconda for a fortune. There is no one else -who could make such a fair and gentle Lady Chandon as you." - -"I am afraid that you will be disappointed in me afterward," she -remarked, falteringly. - -"I am very willing to run the risk, my darling. Now you have been quite -cruel enough, Cynthy. We will even go so far as to suppose you have -faults; I know that, being human, you cannot be without them. But that -does not make me love you less. Now, tell me, will you be my wife?" - -She looked up at him with sweet, shy grace. "I am afraid you think too -highly of me," she opposed, apologetically; "in many things I am but a -child." - -"Child, woman, fairy, spirit--no matter what you are--just as you are, I -love you, and I would not have you changed; nothing can improve you, -because, in my eyes, you are perfect. Will you be my wife, Hyacinth?" - -"Yes," she replied; "and I pray that I may be worthy of my lot." - -He bent down and kissed the fair flushed face, the sweet quivering lips, -the white drooping eyelids. - -"You are my own now," he said--"my very own. Nothing but death shall -part us." - -So they sat in silence more eloquent than words; the faint sound of the -music came over the trees, the wind stirred the vine leaves--there never -came such another hour in life for them. In the first rapture of her -great happiness Hyacinth did not remember Claude, or perhaps she would -have told her lover about him, but she did not even remember him. Over -the smiling heaven of her content no cloud, however light, sailed--she -remembered nothing in that hour but her love and her happiness. - -Then he began to talk to her of the life that lay before them. - -"We must live so that others may be the better for our living, Cynthy. -Should it happen that you become Lady Chandon, we will have a vast -responsibility on our hands." - -She looked pleased and happy. - -"We will build schools," she said, "almshouses for the poor people; we -will make every one glad and happy, Adrian." - -"That will be a task beyond us, I fear," he rejoined, with a smile, "but -we will do our best." - -"I must try to learn every thing needful for so exalted a position," she -observed, with a great sigh of content. - -"You must be very quick about it, darling," he said. "I am going to -presume upon your kindness. It is not enough to know that I have won -you, but I want to know when you will be mine." - -She made no reply, and he went on. - -"I do not see why we need wait--do you, Cynthy?" - -"I do not see why we need hurry," she replied. - -"I can give you a reason for that--I want you; my life will be one long -sigh until I can say in very truth that you are my wife. Will you let me -tell Lady Vaughan this evening, that I have been successful?" - -She clung to him, her hand clasping his arm. "Not to-night," she said, -softly. "Adrian, let me have this one night to myself to think it all -over." - -"It shall be just as you like, my darling; I will tell her to-morrow. -Now, Cynthy, this is the 19th of July--why should we not be married in -two months from to-day?" Ah, why not? She said nothing. The wind, that -whispered so many secrets to the trees, did not tell them that. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -When Hyacinth woke next morning, it was with difficulty that she -disentangled dreams and truth; then the whole of her untold joys rushed -over her, and she knew it was no fancy--no dream. She went down to -breakfast looking, if possible, more beautiful than she had ever -looked; the love-light on her face made it radiant; her eyes were bright -as stars. Lady Vaughan gazed at her, as she had often done before, in -sheer wonder. During breakfast she heard Sir Arthur complaining of his -papers. - -"I am told they will not come until night," he said. "I really do not -see how I am to get through the day without my papers." - -"What is the cause of the delay?" asked Lady Vaughan. - -"Some accident to the mail train. The company ought to be more careful." - -"Adrian will perhaps be able to do something to amuse you," said Lady -Vaughan. - -"Adrian has gone out," returned Sir Arthur, in an injured tone of voice. -"Some friends of his came to the hotel late last night, and he has gone -out with them; he will not return till evening." - -"Who told you so?" asked Lady Vaughan. - -"He wrote this note," said Sir Arthur, "and sent it to me the first -thing this morning." Then Hyacinth smiled to herself, for she knew the -note was written for her. - -"We must get through the day as well as we can," said Lady Vaughan. - -Greatly to Sir Arthur's surprise, Hyacinth volunteered to spend the -morning with him. - -"I can amuse you," she said--"not perhaps as well as Mr. Darcy, but I -will do my best. We will go out into the grounds if you like; the band -is going to play a selection from 'Il Flauto Magico.'" - -And Sir Arthur consented, inwardly wondering how sweet, gentle, and -compliant his granddaughter was. - -Just before dinner a messenger came to the _salon_ to say that Mr. Darcy -had returned, and, with Lady Vaughan's permission would spend the -evening with them. - -"He will tell Lady Vaughan this evening," thought Hyacinth; "and then -every one will know." - -She dressed herself with unusual care; it would be the first time of -seeing him since she had promised to be his wife. Amongst her treasures -was a dress of white lace, simple and elegant, somewhat elaborately -trimmed with green leaves. Pincott came again, by Lady Vaughan's wish, -to superintend the young lady's toilet. She looked curiously at the -white lace dress. - -"Begging your pardon, Miss Vaughan," she said, "but I never saw a young -lady so changed. I used to feel quite grieved when you were so careless -about your dress." - -"I will try not to grieve you again," said the young girl, laughingly. - -"You must not wear either jewels or ribbons with this dress," observed -Pincott. "There must be nothing but a simple cluster of green leaves." - -"It shall be just as you like," observed Miss Vaughan. - -But the maid's taste was correct--nothing more simply elegant or -effective could have been devised than the dress of white lace and the -cluster of green leaves on the fair hair. Hyacinth hardly remembered how -the time passed until he came. She heard his footsteps--heard his voice; -and her heart beat, her face flushed, her whole soul seemed to go out to -meet him. - -"Hyacinth," he cried, clasping her hand, "this day seemed to me as long -as a century." - -Lady Vaughan was sitting alone in her favorite arm-chair near the open -window. Adrian went up to her, leading Hyacinth by the hand. - -"Dearest Lady Vaughan," he said, "can you guess what I have to tell -you?" - -The fair old face beamed with smiles. - -"Is it what I have expected, Adrian?" she asked. "Does my little -Hyacinth love you?" - -The girl hid her blushing face; then she sunk slowly on her knees, and -the kind old hands were raised to bless her. They trembled on her bowed -head; Hyacinth seized them and covered them with passionate kisses and -tears. She had thought them stern hands once, and had felt disposed to -fly from their guidance; but now, as she kissed them, she blessed and -thanked them that their guidance had brought her to this happy haven of -rest. - -"Heaven bless you, my child!" said the feeble voice. The lady bowed her -stately head and fair old face over the young girl. - -"If you have ever thought me stern, Hyacinth," she said--"if you have -ever fancied the rules I laid down for you hard--remember it was all for -your own good. The world is full of snares--some of them cruel ones--for -the unwary. I saw that you were full of romance and poetry; and I--I did -my best, my dear. If you have thought me hard, you must forgive me -now--it was all for your own good. I know the value of a pure mind, an -innocent heart, and a spotless name; and that is the dowry you bring -your husband. No queen ever had one more regal. The Vaughans are a -proud old race. There has never been even the faintest slur or shadow -resting on any one who bore the name; and the highest praise that I can -give you is that you are worthy to bear it." - -Adrian did not know why the fair young head was bent in such lowly -humility, why such passionate sobs rose to the girl's lips as he raised -her and held her for a moment in his arms. - -"Go to your room, Hyacinth, and remove all traces of tears," said Lady -Vaughan. "We must be glad, not sorry, this evening--it is your betrothal -night. And see, here are the papers, Sir Arthur; now you will be quite -happy, and forgive that unfortunate mail train." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -Hyacinth was not long absent. She bathed her face in some cool, fragrant -water, smiling to herself the while at finding that Lady Vaughan could -be sentimental, thankful that the needful little scene was over, and -wondering shyly what this new and bewildering life would be like, with -Adrian by her side as her acknowledged lover. So happy she was--ah, so -happy! There was not one drawback--not one cloud. She rearranged the -pretty lace dress and the green leaves, and then tripped down-stairs, as -fair a vision of youth, beauty, and happiness as ever gladdened the -daylight. Just as she reached the _salon_ door she dropped her -handkerchief, and stooping to pick it up, she heard Lady Vaughan say, - -"Do not tell Hyacinth--it will shock her so." - -"She must hear of it," Sir Arthur returned; "better tell her yourself, -my dear." - -Wondering what they could be discussing she opened the door and saw a -rather unusual _tableau_. Lady Vaughan was still in her comfortable -arm-chair; she held a newspaper in her hands, and Sir Arthur and Adrian -Darcy were bending over her, evidently deeply interested. Hyacinth's -entrance seemed to put an end to their discussion. Adrian went up to -her. Sir Arthur took the paper from his lady's hand and began to read it -for himself. - -"You will not refuse to sing for me to-night, Cynthy?" said Adrian. "It -is, you know, as Lady Vaughan says, our betrothal night. Will you give -me that pleasure?" - -Still wondering at what she had heard, Hyacinth complied with his -request. She played well, and she had a magnificent, well-trained voice. -She sung now some simple ballad, telling of love that was never to die, -of faith that was never to change, of happiness that was to last forever -and ever; and as she sung the divine light of love played on her face -and deep warm gratitude rose in her heart. He thanked her--he kissed the -white hands that had touched the keys so deftly; and, then she heard Sir -Arthur say again: - -"He cannot be guilty; it is utterly impossible. I cannot say I liked the -young fellow; he seemed to me one of the careless, reckless kind. But -rely upon it he is too much of a gentleman to be capable of such a -brutal, barbarous deed." - -"If he is innocent," observed Lady Vaughan, "he will be released. In our -days justice is too sure and too careful to destroy an innocent man." - -"Colonel Lennox will never get over it. Such a blow will kill a proud -man like him." - -"I pity his mother most," said Lady Vaughan. - -Every word of this conversation had been heard by Hyacinth and Adrian. -She was looking over some music, and he stood by her. A strange, vague, -numb sensation was gradually creeping over her. She raised her eyes to -her lover's face, and they asked, as plainly as eyes could speak: - -"What are they discussing?" - -"A strange, sad story," he spoke in answer to the look, for she had -uttered no word. Lady Vaughan heard him. - -"You will be grieved, Hyacinth," she said; "but that you will be sure to -hear of it sooner or later, I would not tell you one word. Do you -remember young Claude Lennox, who was visiting his uncle? He came over -to the Chase several times." - -"I remember him," she replied, vaguely conscious of her own words--for a -terrible dread was over her. She could have cried aloud in her anguish, -"What is it--oh, what is it?" - -"Appearances are against him, certainly," continued Lady Vaughan, in her -calm tone--oh, would she never finish?--"but I cannot think him guilty." - -"Guilty of what?" asked Hyacinth; and the sound of her own voice -frightened her as it left her rigid lips. - -"Guilty of murder, my dear. It is a strange case. It appears that the -very day after we left the Chase, a dreadful murder was discovered at -Leybridge--a woman was found cruelly murdered under a hedge in one of -the fields near the station. In the poor woman's clinched hand was a -handkerchief, with the name 'Claude Lennox' upon it. On searching -further the police found his address, 'Claude Lennox, 200 Belgrave -Square,' written in pencil on a small folded piece of paper. The woman's -name is supposed to be Anna Barratt. Circumstantial evidence is very -strong against Claude. One of the porters at Leybridge Station swears -that he saw him walk with a woman in the direction of the fields; a -laboring man swears that he saw him returning alone to Oakton Park in -the early dawn of the morning; and the colonel's servants say he was -absent from Oakton the whole night." - -"Still, that may only be circumstantial evidence," said Sir Arthur, -"though it is strongly against him. Why should he kill a woman who was -quite a stranger to him, as he solemnly swears she was?" - -"Who, then, was with him at the station? You see, three people swear to -have noticed him leave Leybridge Station with a woman whom none of them -recognized." - -They might perhaps have continued the discussion, but a slight sound -disturbed them, and, looking round, they saw that Hyacinth had fallen to -the floor. She had risen from her seat with a ghastly face and burning -eyes; her white lips had opened to say, "It is not Claude who killed -her, but her husband." She tried to utter the words, but her voice was -mute, and then with outstretched arms she fell face foremost to the -ground in a dead swoon. Adrian ran to her; he raised her--he looked in -wondering alarm at the colorless face with its impress of dread and -fear. - -"It has frightened her almost to death," he said. "Did she know this -Claude Lennox, Lady Vaughan?" - -"Yes, very slightly; we met him once or twice at Oakton Park, and he -called at the Chase. But I did not like him. I kept Hyacinth carefully -out of his way." - -"What can we do for her?" he asked, in a trembling voice. - -"Nothing," said Lady Vaughan. "Do not call the servants; they make such -a fuss about anything of this kind. Let the fresh air blow over her." - -They raised her up and laid her upon the couch. Sir Arthur threw open -the doors into the conservatory, and opened the windows in that room -also, to admit currents of fresh air. Lady Vaughan withdrew with -noiseless step to another room for a glass of cool water. Adrian bent -over the wholly unconscious form of his darling, his face almost as -white as her own in his anxiety. Suddenly he remembered that he had -acquired a slight knowledge of surgery in his University life, and -drawing a lancet from his pocket, he made a slight incision in the -beautiful snowy arm that lay so limp and lifeless upon his hand. - -One or two drops of blood from the cut stained his fingers. Passionately -he kissed the wound that he had made in his love, but though a slight -moan escaped her lips, Hyacinth did not yet move nor awaken from her -swoon. The old people returned, and Lady Vaughan moistened the pallid -brow and colorless lips. Again that moan came, the girl moved, and -presently the white lips parted with a sigh, and the eyes opened with a -look of terror in them which Adrian never forgot. - -"I am so frightened!" she said. - -"My darling!" cried Adrian, "I am sorry you heard anything about it. Why -need you be frightened?" - -"I am shocked," she said, and the ghastly fear deepened in her eyes. - -"Of course you are--one so young, so fair, so gentle. The very word -'murder' is enough to terrify you." - -Then she lay perfectly still--holding her lover's hand in hers, looking -at him with such wordless sorrow, such unutterable woe in her face. Lady -Vaughan brought her a glass of wine; she drank it, hardly knowing what -she did, and then the elder lady, bending over her, kissed her face. - -"You must not be so sensitive, my dear," she said. "How will you get -through life if you feel for everybody's trouble in this fashion? Of -course we are all deeply grieved for the young man, but he is nothing to -us." - -Her words fell on dulled ears and an unconscious brain; the girl, still -holding her lover's hand, turned her face to the wall. She had not been -able to collect her thoughts--they were in a state of chaos. Of all that -crowded upon her, that seemed to burn into her brain, that crushed and -crowded like living figures around her, one stood out clear, distinct, -and terrible--Claude was innocent, and no one in the world knew it but -herself. Look where she would, these words seemed to be before her, in -great red letters--"No one but myself!" She turned her white face -suddenly to Adrian Darcy: - -"If they find him guilty," she asked, "what will they do to him?" - -"If he is guilty, he will pay for the crime with his life. But now, -Cynthy, you must not think so intently of this. Try to forget it for a -little time." - -Forget it! Ah, if he knew? When should she forget again? - -"He is innocent, and no one in the world knows it but myself, and no one -else can prove it." - -Over and over again she said the words; it seemed to her they had -bewitched her. As soon as she had finished them, she began the terrible -phrase over again. Then the darkness seemed to fall over her. When she -raised her eyes again, Adrian was reading to her. She tried hard to -grasp the sense of what he was saying. She tried to understand the -words, but they were like a dull distant sound--not one was plain or -distinct to her. - -"I must be going mad," she thought, starting up in wild affright; and -then Adrian's arms were encircling her. He could feel the terrible -beating of her heart; he could see the awful fear in her face. - -"My dearest Hyacinth," he said gently, "you must not give way to this -nervous fear--you will do yourself harm." - -He laid the fair young head on his breast; he soothed and caressed her -as he would have soothed a frightened child; and then Lady Vaughan -insisted that she was tired and must go to rest. They did not notice -that as she left the room she took with her the paper Sir Arthur had -been reading. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - - -Alone at last; and the ghastly fear, the terrible dread, overwhelmed -Hyacinth. The paper dropped from her hands, and she fell, with a low, -shuddering cry, on her knees. The news was too cruel, too dreadful, too -horrible. She moaned rather than cried--"Oh, merciful Heaven, let me -die! let me die!" - -The fear that was upon her was far more trying than any physical -anguish. Who could have recognized her crouching there with fever in her -brain, with anguish in her heart, as the beautiful brilliant girl who -quitted that same room a few hours since, radiant with love and hope? - -Then she took up the paper, and with wild, distended eyes read this -paragraph: - -"SHOCKING MURDER AT LEYBRIDGE.--The whole of this district has been -thrown into the greatest consternation by the discovery of a terrible -murder that has been committed in the pleasant meadows near the railway -station. On Thursday morning as John Dean, a laborer, was going to his -work, his attention was attracted by something lying under the hedge in -the field known as Lime Meadow. He found, on inspection, that it was the -body of a woman who had been most cruelly murdered. He hastened to the -police station and gave information to Inspector Henderson. The -inspector went at once to the spot with two of his men. The woman had -been dead, it was supposed, over two hours; there were signs of a -violent struggle; and she had evidently tried hard to defend herself. At -first no clew could be discovered as to her identity or that of her -murderer; but it was seen that she held a handkerchief tightly clinched -in her hands. With some difficulty it was taken away, and the name -'Claude Lennox' was found upon it. Further search brought to light a -folded paper, on which the address of Mr. Lennox was written in full. -The woman's clothes were marked, 'Anna Barratt.' She was quite a -stranger to the neighborhood, and no one remembers to have seen her -before. The police immediately began to make inquiries, the result of -which was the apprehension of Claude Lennox on the charge of wilful -murder. He has been brought before the magistrates at Ashton, and the -evidence given is very strong against him. Mr. Lennox is the nephew of -Colonel Lennox, of Ashton Park; and it appears that, much to the -colonel's anger and annoyance, the young gentleman was absent all -Wednesday night. A porter at Leybridge Station swears to having seen Mr. -Lennox in company with some woman--whose features he did not see--quite -early on Thursday morning. He noticed him particularly, because Mr. -Lennox seemed anxious that his companion should escape all observation. -He saw them walking toward the meadow, but not having seen the woman's -face, could not identify her. Thomas Hannan, a signalman, also swore to -the same facts. Robert Cliffe, a day-laborer, deposed that, as he was -going to work early on Thursday morning, he saw the accused walking -alone and hurriedly toward the park. He thought the gentleman looked -agitated. The prisoner admitted at once that the handkerchief and folded -paper containing the address were his, but refused to explain how they -came into the possession of the deceased. He swore that he was not -guilty of the murder, and that the woman was a stranger to him. When -asked to state where he had been during the night, he declined. When -asked to prove an _alibi_--if he could bring any witnesses to prove -where he had been--he replied abruptly that it was impossible--he could -not do it. The magistrates have committed him for trial at the Loadstone -assizes, and unless he can give some satisfactory information as to -where he passed the night of Wednesday, the weight of circumstantial -evidence will tell strongly against him. The refusal of Mr. Lennox to -make any exculpatory statement has created a great sensation in the -neighborhood. The assizes commences on the twenty-third of July." - -The paper fell from Hyacinth's trembling hands, and a terrible moan came -from her lips. Clear as the daylight the incidents of that morning rose -before her in their full horror. - -Whatever happened, cost what it would, she must go--she must clear -Claude. No one in the wide world knew that he was innocent, no one could -clear him but herself. Dear Heaven, how plainly the whole scene rose -before her! The dewy meadows lying so still and calm in the half -light--the woman's pale face and bruised hand! How well she remembered -wrapping Claude's handkerchief round it. How kind and compassionate -Claude had been to her! - -"He will kill me some day," the woman had said, speaking of her -husband--Hyacinth could hear the voice even now. That was nearly a month -ago, and kind, generous, reckless Claude had been lying in prison ever -since, on a charge of wilful murder. He would not incriminate her; he -might have rebutted the whole charge by telling the story of that night -and calling her as a witness, but he would not do so. She had not -thought there was such generosity, such chivalry in him. It was a noble -thing of him to refuse to speak, but he must not lose his life for her. - -The more she weighed the evidence, the more startled she was to find how -strongly circumstances were against Claude. She must clear him. If he -would not speak, she must. - -What would it cost her? Ah, Heaven, more than her life--her love! If she -went into court to tell the truth, she could never hope to see Adrian -again. He who had valued purity, delicacy, refinement and truth so -highly--what would he say when he found that she had not only carried on -a clandestine correspondence, deceived those with whom she lived, and -stolen out to meet her lover, but had eloped with him--had left home, -and travelled as far as Leybridge with him, and walked through the -fields with him, and then, repenting, had gone back? What would he say -when he knew all? She remembered how sternly he had spoken of Lady -Wallace--what would he say of her? She was more unfortunate, more -disgraced. Her name henceforward would be associated with a murder case. -She, a Vaughan, one of the race, as Lady Vaughan had told her that -morning, that had never experienced the shadow of disgrace or shame--she -who had been, as they believed, so carefully kept from the world, so -shielded from all its snares--she to bow those gray heads with sorrow, -and slay her love with unmerited shame? - -She was as one fastened to a stake; turn which way she would, her -torture increased. Could she take advantage of Claude's honorable -silence and saving herself, like a coward, let him die? Ah, no, she -could not. "Loyal, even unto death," was the motto of her race; she -could not do that. If she did--though her secret would be safe, her -miserable weakness never be known--she would hate herself, loathe her -life, so shamefully laden with secrecy and sin. - -The temptation to take advantage of Claude's chivalrous silence lasted -only a few moments. She would not have purchased life and love at such a -price. She must save him. - -What would it cost her? Her love--ah, yes, her love! She would never see -Adrian again; he would never speak to one so disgraced. For she did not -hide from herself the extent of that disgrace; she who had been reared -as a lily in the seclusion of home would become, for a few days at -least, the subject of scandal; the name of Hyacinth Vaughan would be -lightly spoken by light lips; men would sneer at her, women turn away -when her name was mentioned. - -"Oh, how bitterly I am punished!" she cried. "What have I done that I -must suffer so?" - -She knew she must go into court when Claude was tried, and tell her -shameful story before the hard-headed men of the world. She knew that -her name and what she had to tell would be commented upon by every -newspaper in England. After that, there could be no returning home, no -love, no marriage, no safe rest in a haven of peace. It would be all at -an end. She might lie down and die afterward; the world would all be -closed to her. - -Only a few hours ago she had lain on that little white bed scarcely able -to bear the weight of her own happiness. How long was it since Adrian -had asked her to be his wife? The misery, the pain, the anguish of a -hundred years seemed to have passed over her head since then. - -"Oh, if I had but refused to go when Claude asked me!" she cried in a -voice of anguish. "If I had only been true to what I knew was right! I -am bitterly punished." - -Not more bitterly than he was. The thought seemed to strike her -suddenly. He had been in prison for over three weeks; he had been -charged with the most terrible crime--he whose only fault was that of -loving her too well. She must save him. - -Then with a sudden thrill of fear she remembered how near the assizes -were--they were to be held on the twenty-third and this was the -twentieth. She would have only just time to reach Loadstone. She must -say good-by to those who loved her, and had watched over her; she must -leave all her love, her hope, her happiness behind, and go forth to save -him who was willing to give even his life to save her. She must go. She -must find out how she could reach England. The great brooding anguish of -despair seemed to have fallen over her; her heart ached until it could -ache no more; she wept until she seemed to have no more tears; she -appeared to grow insensible to the pain that was wearing her young life -away. - -"I must go to-morrow night," she said to herself. "I shall see Adrian -just once again, and then I must bid him farewell forever. Oh, my love, -my love!" - -She flung herself upon the floor, and wept until the morning dawned and -the summer sun peeped into the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -She was roused from her heavy trance of exhaustion and grief by a knock -at her door. It was one of the housemaids bearing in her hand a bouquet -of beautiful flowers--"From Mr. Darcy." The girl looked in wonder at her -young lady's pale face and heavy eyes. - -"You do not seem well this morning, miss," she said. - -"I have not slept," returned Hyacinth. - -But the few words put her on her guard. She bathed her face, rearranged -her hair, and changed her dress, though the weight of misery lay like a -weight of lead upon her. Then Lady Vaughan, thinking that she was tired -from the emotion and shock of the previous evening, sent word that Miss -Vaughan had better remain in her own room for a few hours. The hapless -girl was thankful for the respite. - -She looked so terribly ill, so ghastly pale, that, when Pincott brought -her breakfast, she started in alarm. - -"There is nothing the matter," said Hyacinth, "but that I did not sleep -well." Pincott went away only half satisfied. - -Hyacinth managed to obtain a railway guide. A train would leave Bergheim -at ten that night, and reach Ostend on the following morning before the -boat started. She would have time to secure a passage and cross. She -could take the mail train for Dover, and reach Loadstone so as to be in -time for the trial. - -At ten that night she must go. She had run away from home once before. -Then she had been blinded, tempted and persuaded--then she had believed -herself going straight into the fairyland of love and happiness; but now -it was all changed. She was running away once more; but this time she -was leaving all the hope, all the happiness of her life behind her. - -It was well for her that the dull stupor of exhaustion fell over her, or -the pain she was suffering must have killed her. She did not know how -the time passed. It was like one long, cruel dream of anguish, until the -summons came for luncheon. Then she went down stairs. Adrian was not -there--that was some consolation. She looked quickly around the room. - -"How could I look on his face and live, knowing that I shall see it no -more?" she said to herself. - -It was like a horrible travesty--the movements of the servants, the -changing of the dishes, Lady Vaughan's anxiety about the cold chicken, -Sir Arthur's complaint about the wine, while her heart was breaking, and -Claude lay in the prison from which she must free him. - -Lady Vaughan was very kind to her. She expressed great concern at seeing -her look so ill--tried to induce her to eat some grapes--told her that -Adrian was coming to dinner, and would bring some friends with him; then -said a few words about Claude, pitied his mother, yet blamed her for not -bringing him up better, and the ordeal was over. - -Hyacinth went away from the dining-room with a faint, low moan. - -"How shall I bear it?" she said--"how shall I live through it?" - -It was two o'clock then. How were the long hours to be passed? How was -she to bear the torture of her own thoughts? Whither could she go for -refuge? Suddenly it occurred to her that she had no money. How was she -to travel in England without some? - -She did not give herself time for thought; if she had, her courage would -have failed her. She went to Sir Arthur's room and tapped at the door. -The tremulous, feeble voice bade her enter. Sir Arthur was writing some -letters. She went up to him. - -"Grandpa," she said, "I have no money--and I want some. Will you give me -a little, please?" - -He looked at her in surprise--she had never made such a request to him -before. - -"Money, child," he repeated--"of course you shall have some. You want to -buy some trinkets--something for Adrian. What shall I give -you--ten--twenty pounds?" - -"Twenty, if you please." - -He drew a small cash-box near to him, and counted twenty bright -sovereigns into her hand. - -"Five more, for luck!" he said with a smile. "Always come to me when you -want money, Hyacinth." - -She kissed him--he was so kind, and she had to leave him so soon. - -"Good girl," he said. "You will be very happy, Hyacinth. Adrian Darcy is -the noblest man in the wide world." - -She turned aside with a groan. Alas! Adrian Darcy was to be nothing to -her--in this terrible future that was coming he would have no place. -Then she went to her own room, and sat there mute and still. Pincott -came to dress her, and the girl went through her toilet mechanically. -She never remembered what dress she wore. The maid asked something about -it, and Hyacinth looked up with a vague, dreamy expression. - -"It does not matter--anything will do," she said, almost wondering that -people could think of such trifles when life and death were in the -balance. - -"There has been a lover's quarrel," thought Pincott, "and my young lady -does not care how she looks." - -When the bell rang Hyacinth went down. How she suffered when she looked -in her lover's face and listened to his voice, knowing it was for the -last time! She did not even hear the name of his friends, when they were -introduced to her. She sat wondering whether any one living had ever -gone through such torture before--wondering why it did not kill her; and -then it seemed to her but two or three minutes before dinner was over. -Mr. and Mrs. Vernon--two of the visitors--suggested that they should go -out into the grounds; and Adrian, delighted at the chance of a -_tete-a-tete_ with Hyacinth, gladly consented. In after years she liked -to recall this last interview. - -"Let us walk to the waterfall," said Adrian. "I shall have a photograph -taken of it, Cynthy, because it reminds me so much of you." - -She said to herself he would not when he knew all--that he would hate -it, and would not think of the place. They sat down in the old favorite -resort. Suddenly she turned to him, and clasped his hand with one of -hers. - -"Adrian," she asked, "do you love me very much?" - -The face bent over her afforded answer sufficient. - -"Love you?" he replied. "I do not think, Hyacinth, that I could love you -more; to me it does not seem possible." - -"If you were to lose me, then, it would be a great sorrow?" - -"Lose you!" he cried. "Why, Cynthy, I would rather ten thousand times -over lose my own life." - -She liked to remember afterward how he drew her head upon his -breast--how he caressed her and murmured sweet words of tenderness to -her--how he told her of his love in such ardent words that the fervor of -them lasted with her until she died. It was for the last time. A great -solemn calm of despair fell over her. To-morrow she would be far away; -his arm would never enfold her, his eyes never linger on her, his lips -never touch her more. It was for the last time, and she loved him better -than her life; but for her sin and folly, she would now have been the -happiest girl in the wide world. - -"My darling," he murmured, "as though weak words could tell how dear you -are to me." - -He kissed her trembling lips and then she broke from him with a great -cry. She could bear no more. She fled through the pine grove, crying to -herself with bitter tears: "If I could but die! Oh, Heaven, be merciful -to me, and let me die!" - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - - -"Good-night, Hyacinth," Lady Vaughan said, when, half an hour afterward, -the girl went to her with a white face and cold rigid lips; "good-night. -I hope to see you something like yourself to-morrow--you do not seem -well." - -And for the last time, Hyacinth Vaughan kissed the fair, stately old -face. "To-morrow--ah, where would she be to-morrow?" - -"You have been very kind to me," she murmured, "and I am not -ungrateful." - -Afterward Lady Vaughan understood why the girl lingered near her, why -she kissed the withered, wrinkled hands with such passionate tenderness, -why her lips opened as if she would fain speak, and then closed mutely. -She thought of Hyacinth's strange manner for several minutes after the -young girl had quitted the room. - -"That terrible news shocked her. She is very sensitive and very -tender-hearted--the Vaughans are all the same. I am heartily glad she is -to marry Adrian: he is gentle enough to understand and firm enough to -manage her. I shall have no more anxiety about the child." - - * * * * * - -Hyacinth had looked her last on them, and had spoken to them for the -last time. She stood in her room now waiting until there should be a -chance of leaving the hotel unnoticed, then it suddenly struck her how -great would be the consternation on the morrow, when she was missed. -What would Adrian do or say--he who loved her so dearly? She went to her -little desk and wrote a note to him. She addressed it and left it on the -toilet table of her room. - -Then she went quietly down-stairs. No one was about. She opened the -great hall-door and went out. Some few people still lingered in the -grounds; she was not noticed. She walked down the long carriage-drive, -and then stood in the street of the little town, alone. She found her -way to the station. A great, despairing cry was rising from her heart to -her lips, but she stifled it, a faint strange sensation, as though life -were leaving her, came over her. She nerved herself. - -"I must live until he is free," she said with stern determination--"then -death will be welcome!" - -They were no idle words that she spoke; all that life held brightest, -dearest, and best, was past for her. Her only hope was that she might -reach Loadstone in time to save Claude. She knew how soon she would be -missed, and how easily she might be tracked. Suppose that they sent or -went to her room and found it empty, and then made inquiries and learned -that she had taken a ticket for Ostend? They could not overtake the -train, but they could telegraph to Ostend and stop her. In that case she -would be too late to save Claude. The station was full of people. She -saw a lad among them--he seemed to be about fifteen--and she went up to -him. - -"Are you going to Ostend?" she asked. - -He doffed his hat and bowed. - -"I am going by this train," he replied. "Can I be of any service to the -_Fraulein_?" - -"I am always nervous in a crowd," she said--"will you buy my ticket?" - -He took the money. He could not see her face, for it was veiled, but he -could distinguish its white, rigid mystery, and, full of wonder, he -complied with her request. In a short time he returned with the ticket. - -"Can I do anything else for you, _Fraulein_?" he asked. - -"No," she replied, thanking him; and all the way to Ostend, the lad -mused over the half-hidden beauty of that face, and the dreary tones of -the sad young voice. - -"There is some mystery," he said; and afterward, when he had read the -papers, he knew what the mystery was. - -She was safely seated in the furthest corner of a second-class carriage -at last, her heart beating so that each throb seemed to send a thrill of -fiery pain through her. Would she be in time? The train was an express, -and was considered an unusually fast one, but it seemed slow to her--so -slow. Her heart beat fast and her pulse throbbed quickly. Her face -burned as with a flaming fire. - -"What shall I do," she thought, with a terrified face, "if I fall ill, -and cannot save him? Suppose--my brain is on fire now--suppose it -becomes worse, and when the train stops I have no sense left to speak? -They will try him--they will sentence him to death before I arrive. He -will perhaps be dead when I am able to speak. What shall I do?" And the -dread so overpowered her that she cried aloud in her anguish. - -"Are you ill?" asked a fellow-traveller, kindly. - -"No, I was dreaming," she replied, hurriedly. - -She pressed her hand on her hot brow--she tried to still the quick -nervous beating of her heart; but all was in vain. The night was hot; -the atmosphere seemed overcharged with electricity; there was not a -breath of air stirring; the noisy clang of the wheels seemed to pierce -her brain; a sound as of rushing torrents filled her ears. She tried to -calm herself--to steady those quivering nerves--to remember what she -would have to say in a short time, when she would be standing before a -tribunal of justice to save Claude's life. She tried and failed in the -effort; she broke down and laughed a strange, unnatural laugh. The noise -of the train drowned it, the monotonous clangor of the wheels dulled all -other sounds. The next minute the overstrained nerves--the over-taxed -brain--had given away, and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. - - * * * * * - -The train drew near to Ostend, and those who loved her had not -discovered Hyacinth's flight. Lady Vaughan wondered she did not come -down as usual to breakfast. Pincott went to see if she was up. She -tapped at the door; there was no answer, and the maid went to tell her -lady. "I am almost glad," said Lady Vaughan; "she looked very ill last -night. She is sleeping; do not awaken her, Pincott." - -But when noon came, and Hyacinth had not rung, Pincott went to her room -again. She opened the door this time and walked in. The room was empty, -the bed had not been slept in, and there was no trace of Miss Vaughan. -The woman turned quite white and sunk, half-fainting, on a chair. She -was frightened. Presently, recovering herself a little, she looked -round. "How foolish I am!" she thought. "Miss Vaughan must have gone -down unknown to me and her room has been arranged." Still she trembled -with a strange presentiment of dread. Suddenly her eyes fell upon the -note addressed to Mr. Darcy--it was sealed. "There can be no harm in my -giving him this," she said. - -She went down-stairs and made inquiries about Miss Vaughan. No one had -seen her--she could hear nothing of her. Then Pincott went to her lady. -It so happened that Mr. Darcy was chatting with her. - -"What do you say?" interrupted Lady Vaughan, sharply. "You cannot find -Miss Vaughan? Pray use your common sense, Pincott; do not say such -absurd things." - -But Adrian had caught sight of the note in the maid's hand. "What is -this?" he asked. - -"I found it in Miss Vaughan's room, sir," said Pincott; "it is addressed -to you." - -He took it from her and opened it. As he read a deadly pallor came over -his face. - -"Great Heaven!" he cried. "What can this mean?" - -Lady Vaughan asked what had happened. He passed the note to her and she -read: - -"I have looked at you and have spoken to you for the last time, Adrian. -I am going away and I shall never see any of you again. You will try to -comfort Lady Vaughan. Pray Heaven my sin and my disgrace may not kill -her. - -"You will find out from the newspapers what I have gone to do; and oh, -my lost dear love, when you read this, be merciful to me! I was so -young, and I longed so for some of the brightness of life. I never loved -him; and, as you will see, I repented--ah, me, so sorely!--before half -the journey was accomplished. I have never loved any one but you--and -that I have lost you is more bitter than death. - -"Many people have died from less suffering than that which I am -undergoing now. Oh, Adrian, I do not think I deserved this terrible -punishment! I did not mean to do anything wrong. I do not ask you to -forgive me! I know you never can. You will fling off all thought of me -as of one unworthy. I told you I was unworthy, but I--oh, Adrian--I -shall love you till I die! All my thoughts will be of you; and I pray -to Heaven that I may die when I have achieved what I am going to do. -Living, you must loathe me; dead, you will pity me. - -"Adrian, I have written your name here. I have wept hot, bitter tears -over it; I have kissed it; and now I must part from you, my heart's own -love! Farewell for ever and ever! - - "HYACINTH." - -"What does it all mean?" he cried, great drops of anguish gathering on -his brow. "Where is the child? What has she done?" - -"I do not know," said Lady Vaughan--"I cannot understand it, Adrian. She -has done nothing. What can she have done? All her life has been passed -with me." - -"I shall see in the newspapers what she has done, she says. What can she -mean?" - -A sudden light seemed to break in upon him: he turned to Lady Vaughan. -"Rely upon it," he said, "it is some fancy of hers about that murder. I -shall not lose a moment. I shall go in search of her." - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - - -The court at Loadstone was crowded to excess. Since the town was built -there had never been so great a sensation. The terrible murder at Oakton -had been a subject of discussion over all England. The colonel was one -of the most prominent men in the county; he had always been very proud -and very exclusive, and the county had grown proud of the old -aristocrat. It was a terrible blow to him when his nephew was charged -with wilful murder. - -All the _elite_ of the county had crowded to the trial. Loadstone had -never been so full; the hotels could not hold half the number who -flocked to hear Claude Lennox tried. There were no more lodgings to be -had for love or money. It was not only the county people who testified -their interest. Claude Lennox was well-known, and had been courted, -popular, and eagerly _feted_ in London drawing-rooms. Many of his old -friends, members of his club came to see him tried. - -It was an unusual case because of the rank, wealth, and position of the -accused--Claude Lennox, the idol of London coteries, the Adonis of the -clubs, the heir of grand, exclusive Colonel Lennox. Then the murder -seemed so utterly motiveless. The young man swore most solemnly that he -knew nothing of the deceased--that she was a stranger whom he had -relieved. The handkerchief found upon her he said was his, and that it -had been given from motives of charity, to bind her bruised hand. The -address on the scrap of paper he admitted was in his own writing--he had -given it to her, hoping that either his mother or his aunt would be able -to find her work. More than that he refused to say. He refused to -account for his time--to say where he had been that night--to make any -attempt to prove an _alibi_. He was asked who was his companion at -Oakton station, and he refused to answer. His lawyer was in despair. The -able counsel whom his distracted mother had sent to his assistance -declared themselves completely nonplussed. - -"Tell us how you passed the night," they had said, "so that we may know -what line of defense to adopt." - -"I cannot," he replied. "I swear most solemnly that I know nothing of -the murder. More than that I cannot say." - -"It is probable you may pay for your obstinacy with your life," said -Sergeant Burton, one of the shrewdest lawyers in England. - -"There are things more painful than death," Claude replied, calmly; and -then the sergeant clapped his hands. "There is a woman in the case," he -said--"I am sure of it." - -Sergeant Burton and Mr. Landon were retained as counsel for Claude; but -never were counsel more hopeless about their case than they. They could -call no witnesses in Claude's favor--they did not know whom to call. "He -will lose his life," said Mr. Landon, with a groan. "What infatuation! -What folly! It strikes me he could clear himself if he would." - -But the twenty-third of July had come round, and as yet Claude had made -no effort to clear or defend himself. The morning of his trial had -dawned at last. It was a warm, beautiful summer day, the sun shone -bright and warm. Loadstone streets were filled, and Loadstone Assize -Court was crowded. There was quite a solemn hush when "The Crown _vs._ -Lennox" came on. Most of those present knew Claude Lennox--some -intimately, others by sight. They looked curiously at him, as he stood -in the dock; the air of aristocratic ease and elegance that had always -distinguished him was there still, but the handsome face had lost its -debonair expression; there were deep lines upon it--lines of thought and -care. - -"How do you plead, prisoner at the bar--Guilty, or Not Guilty?" - -The silence was profound. - -"Not guilty, my lord," replied the clear voice; and in some vague way a -thrill of conviction shot through each one that the words were true. - -Then the business of the trial began. All present noticed the depressed -air of the prisoner's counsel and the confident look of the counsel for -the prosecution. - -"No rebutting evidence," seemed to be the mysterious whisper circulating -through the court. - -Then the counsel for the prosecution stated his case. It seemed clear -and conclusive against the accused; yet the dauntless face and upright -figure were hardly those of a murderer. The prisoner was absent from -home the whole of the night on which the murder was committed; he was -seen at Leybridge station with a woman; he was observed to walk with her -toward the meadow where the body was found; his handkerchief was found -tightly clinched in her hands, and his London address in her pocket; -witnesses would swear to having seen him return alone to Oakton Park, -looking terribly agitated. At the same time, the counsel for the Crown -admitted that there had been no witnesses to the deed; that no possible -motive could be ascribed for the murder; that against the moral -character of Mr. Lennox there was not one word to say; that no weapon -had been found near the scene of the murder; that on the clothes worn by -Mr. Lennox at the time there was not the least stain of human blood. -These were points, the counsel admitted, that were in favor of the -accused. - -At this juncture, just as people were remarking how depressed the -prisoner's counsel were looking, there was a slight commotion in the -crowded court. A note, written in pencil, was handed to Sergeant Burton; -as he read it a sudden light came over his face, and he hastily quitted -his seat, first handing the note to the junior counsel, who read: - -"I have evidence to give that will save Mr. Lennox's life. Can you spare -a few minutes to hear what I have to say? - - "HYACINTH VAUGHAN." - -Sergeant Burton was absent for a little while; but he returned in time -to hear the concluding part of the opposing counsel's speech. It told -hard against the accused, but the learned sergeant only smiled as he -listened. He seemed to have grown wonderfully composed. Then the -witnesses for the prosecution were called, and gave their evidence -clearly enough. Some in court who had felt sure of Claude's innocence -began to waver now. Who was with him at Leybridge? That was the point. -There was no cross-examination of the witnesses. - -"I have no questions to ask," said the counsel. "My client admits the -perfect truth of all the evidence." - -"This is my case, gentlemen of the jury," concluded the counsel for the -prosecution, as he sat down. - -"And it is a strong one, too," thought most of the people present. "How -can all these facts be explained away?" - -Then Sergeant Burton rose. - -"Gentlemen of the jury," he said, "this is the most painful case I have -ever conducted; a more grievous mistake than this accusation of murder -against an innocent gentleman has never been made. I will prove to you -not only that he is quite innocent of the crime, but that, in his -chivalrous generosity, he would rather have forfeited his life than -utter one word in his own defense which would shadow, even in the -slightest, a woman's honor. I will prove to you that, although the -accused was at Leybridge with a lady, and not only spoke to, but -relieved the deceased, yet that he is entirely innocent of the crime -laid to his charge." - -The silence that followed was profound. For the first time Claude's face -grew anxious and he looked hurriedly around. - -"The first witness I shall call," said the learned counsel, "is one who -will tell you where Mr. Lennox spent his time on the night of the -murder; will tell you how he relieved the poor woman; will, in short, -give such evidence as shall entirely free him of the most foul charge. -Call Miss Hyacinth Vaughan." - -At the mention of the name the prisoner started and his face flushed -crimson. - -"Why did she come?" some one near heard him murmur. "I would have died -for her." - -Then, amid profound and breathless silence, there entered the -witness-box a graceful girlish figure, on which all eyes were -immediately bent. She raised her veil, and a thrill of admiration went -through that thronged assembly as the beautiful, colorless face, so -lovely, so pure, so full of earnest purpose, was turned to the judge. -She did not seem to notice the hundreds of admiring, wondering eyes--it -was as though she stood before the judge alone. - -"Do not speak, Hyacinth," said the prisoner, vehemently; and in a low -voice he added: "I can bear it all--do not speak." - -"Silence!" spoke the judge, sternly. "This is a court of justice; we -must have no suppression of the truth." - -"Your name is Hyacinth Vaughan?" was the first question asked. - -"My name is Hyacinth Vaughan," was the reply; and the voice that spoke -was so sweet, so sad, so musical, that people bent forward to listen -more eagerly. Sergeant Burton looked at the beautiful, pallid, high-bred -face. - -"You were in the company of the accused on the night of Wednesday, the -12th of June?" - -"Yes," she said. - -"Will you state what happened?" asked the sergeant, blandly. - -Hyacinth looked at the judge: her lips opened, and then closed, as -though she would fain speak, but could not. It was an interval of -intense excitement in court. - -"Will you tell us why you were in his company, Miss Vaughan, and whither -you went?" said the sergeant. - -"My lord," she said--for it was at the judge she looked always--of the -presence of the jury she seemed totally ignorant--"I will tell you all -about it. I went away with Mr. Lennox--to go to London--to be married -there." - -"Unknown to your friends?" asked the judge. - -"Unknown to anyone." - -Here Hyacinth paused, and the lips that had been speaking turned deathly -white. - -"Tell us about it in your own way, Miss Vaughan," said the judge--the -sight of that tortured young face moved him to deepest pity--"do not be -afraid." - -Then the fear seemed to die away from her: in all that vast assembly she -saw no face but that of the judge looking steadily and intently at her -own. - -"My lord," she said, "I was very dull at home; everyone was kind to me, -but there was no one there of my own age, and I was very dull. I made -Mr. Lennox's acquaintance, and liked him very much--I thought I loved -him--and when he asked me to run away from home and marry him I was -quite willing." - -"But what need was there to run away?" asked the judge, kindly. He knew -the question pained her, for her lips quivered and her whole face -changed. - -"In our folly there were reasons that seemed to us to make it -imperative," she replied. "My friends had other views for me, and I was -to start for the Continent on Friday, the fourteenth of June. It seemed -certain to us that unless we were married at once we should never be -married at all." - -"I understand," put in the judge, kindly; "go on with your story." - -"I did not think much about it, my lord," continued Hyacinth,--"that is, -about the right and the wrong of it--I thought only of the romance; and -we agreed to go up to London by the train that passed Oakton soon after -midnight. I left my home and met Mr. Lennox at the end of my -grandparents' grounds; we went to the station together. I kept out of -sight while he took tickets for both of us at the booking-office." - -"The clerk at Oakton station will prove that the accused purchased two -tickets," interrupted Sergeant Burton. The judge nodded, and the young -girl continued: - -"We got into the train and went as far as Leybridge. There the train -stopped. Mr. Lennox told me that the mail train we were to meet had been -delayed by an accident, and that we should have to wait some hours at -the station. The morning was breaking then, and we were alarmed lest -someone should come to the station who might recognize me. Mr. Lennox -suggested that, as the morning was bright and pleasant, we should go -through the fields, and I gladly consented." - -All this time the clear, sweet young voice sounded like music in the -warmth and silence of the summer air. - -"We reached the field called Lime Meadow, and stood there, leaning over -the stile, when I thought I saw something under a hedge. We went to see. -It was a woman who had been sleeping there. My lord, she looked very -faint, very wild and weak. We spoke to her. She told us that her name -was Anna Barratt, and that she was married, but that she was very -unhappy. She was going with her husband to Liverpool. She told us her -story, my lord, and it frightened me. She told us that she had once been -a bright happy girl at home, and that against her mother's advice she -had eloped with the man who had sought her hand, and married him. Her -words struck me like a sharp blow. She said it was better to break one's -heart at home than to run away from it. Mr. Lennox was very sorry for -her; and, when I saw her poor bruised hand lying on the grass, I bound -it up. My lord, I asked Mr. Lennox for his handkerchief, and I wrapped -it around her hand." - -There was such a murmur of excitement in the court that the speaker was -obliged to pause. - -"Go on, Miss Vaughan," said the judge. Still looking at him, and him -only, she continued: - -"Mr. Lennox gave her some money. She told us that her husband beat her; -that he had bruised her hand, and that she was quite sure he would come -back to murder her. Then Mr. Lennox told her, that if she feared that, -to get up and come away; he gave her two sovereigns and told her to go -to London. He wrote down his address on a piece of folded paper, and -told her if she would either come or write to that address, his mother -would befriend her. She asked Heaven to bless us, my lord, and turned -away her head, as though she were tired. We walked on, and did not see -her again." - -And again Hyacinth paused, while those in court seemed to hang upon the -words that came from her lips. - -"Then, my lord," she continued, "I began to think of what she had -said--that it was better to break one's heart at home than to run away -from it. All at once the folly and wickedness of what I was about to do -appeared to me. I began to cry, and begged of Mr. Lennox to take me -home." - -"A very common termination to an elopement," observed the judge. - -"Mr. Lennox was very kind to me," continued the earnest voice. "When he -saw that I really wanted to go home, he took me back to Oakton, and left -me in the grounds where we had met so short a time before. My lord, I -swear to you most solemnly that this is the whole truth." - -"Will you explain to us," inquired the prosecution, "why, knowing all -this, you have allowed matters to proceed so far against the accused? -Why did you not come forward earlier, and reveal the truth?" - -"My lord," she said, still looking at the quiet face of the judge, "I -knew nothing of the case until twenty-four hours ago. I started with my -grandparents on the Friday morning for the Continent, and have been -living at Bergheim since. I knew of the trial only the night before -last, and I came hither at once." - -"You came alone; and immediately?" - -"Yes," she replied. "I have lost everything by so coming. I can never go -back among my kindred again. I shall never be forgiven." - -There was a brief pause. The foreman of the jury gave a written paper to -the usher to be handed to the judge--a paper which intimated that the -jury did not think it necessary to go on with the case, feeling -convinced, from the evidence of Miss Vaughan, that Mr. Lennox was -perfectly innocent of the crime imputed to his charge. The judge read -the paper carefully, and then, looking at the witness, said: - -"Miss Vaughan, you committed a great error--an error perhaps in some -degree excusable from your youth. But you have atoned for it more nobly -than error was ever atoned for before. At the risk of losing all most -dear to you, and of exposing yourself to the comments of the world, you -have come forward to save Mr. Lennox. I, for one, must express my -admiration of your conduct. Your evidence has acquitted the -prisoner--the jury have intimated that there is no need to proceed with -the case." - -Then arose cheers that could not be silenced. In vain the judge held up -his hand in warning and the usher cried "Silence!" - -"Heaven bless her," cried the women, with weeping eyes. - -"She is a heroine!" the men said, with flushed faces. - -There was a general commotion; and when it had subsided she had -disappeared. Those who had watched her to the last said that when the -judge, in his stately manner, praised her, her face flushed and her lips -quivered; then it grew deathly pale again, and she glided away. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - - -The famous trial was over; the "sensation" was at an end. The accused -Claude Lennox stood once more free among his fellow-men. Loud cheers -greeted him, loud acclamations followed him. He was the popular idol. -His friends surrounded him. "Bravo, Claude, old friend! I thought it -would come right. We knew you were innocent. But what a terrible thing -circumstantial evidence is!" Claude stood in the midst of a large circle -of well-wishers. Colonel Lennox, whose anger had all vanished when he -found his nephew in real danger, stood by his side. He seemed to have -grown older and grayer. - -"It was a narrow escape for you, Claude," he said, and his voice -trembled and his limbs shook. - -"My thanks are due to Heaven," said the young man, reverently. "Humanly -speaking, I owe my life to that brave girl who has risked everything to -save me. Oh, uncle, where is she? We are talking idly here when I owe my -life to her; and I know all she has suffered and lost to save me." - -They went back hurriedly to the court, but there was no trace of -Hyacinth. People stood in little groups in the street, and of every -group she was the subject of conversation. - -"I shall never forget her," said one woman, "if I live to be a hundred -years old. They may talk of heroines if they like, but I never heard of -one braver than she has been." - -"Did you hear that, uncle?" cried Claude. "How they admire her! She is -noble, good, and true. I know what it has cost her to come forward; I -know what a home she has had--her people all so rigid, so cold, so -formal. How am I to thank her?" - -"Marry her at once, Claude," said Colonel Lennox. - -"She would not have me. You do not know her, uncle; she is truth itself. -How many girls do you think would have had the resolution to turn back -on such a journey as she had begun? She does not love me, I am sure; but -after what has happened to-day, I would die for her. Where is she? My -mother must take her home at once." - -They made inquiries, but there was no trace of her. In the general -confusion that ensued, amid the crowding of friends to congratulate -Claude, and the hurrying of witnesses, no one had noticed her. She had -been the centre of observation for a brief interval, and then she had -disappeared, and no one had noticed which way she went. Colonel Lennox -and Claude were both deeply grieved; they sought Hyacinth everywhere, -they sent messengers all over the town, but no trace of her could be -found. Claude was almost desperate; he had made every arrangement--his -mother was to take her back to Belgrave Square, and he himself was to go -at once to Bergheim to win Hyacinth's pardon from her relatives there. - -"There is nothing," he said to himself, over and over again, "that I -would not do for her." - -He was bitterly disappointed; he would not leave Loadstone until every -instruction had been given for communication with him or with Colonel -Lennox, if any news should be heard of her. When this was done, he -complied with his mother's anxious entreaty and returned with her to -London. - -"It has been a narrow escape," she said, with a shudder, "and a terrible -disgrace. I cannot bear to think of it. You, with your unblemished name, -your high position and prospects in life, to be accused of wilful -murder! I do not believe you will ever live it down, Claude!" - -"Yes, he will," cried the colonel, heartily; "whoever remembers his -disgrace, as you term it, will remember also that he was saved by the -truth and bravery of the finest and noblest girl in England." - -"I will redeem my character, mother," said Claude, earnestly; "this has -made a true man of me. I was not very earnest before, but I have paid a -terrible price for my boyish escapade. The future with me shall atone -for the past." - -"The boy is right enough," cried the colonel; "what he says is perfectly -true. He wanted more of earnest purpose, and the ordeal that he has just -undergone will give it to him. He shall not suffer for the mistake. I -will say now what I have never said before--Claude shall be my heir; -and," added the colonel, with unconscious egotism, "the world will -easily pardon the youthful escapades of the master of Oakton Park." - -So Claude's mother did not return quite broken-hearted to London. The -trial had been a nine days' wonder--a great sensation; but people seemed -more inclined to blame the stupidity of Hyacinth's relatives than the -young man, whose fault had been simply that of loving a lovely girl too -well. Mrs. Lennox watched anxiously to see if her son had lost caste; -but she could not perceive that he had. He was heir of the rich old -Indian colonel--heir of Oakton Park. The Duchess of Grandecourt invited -him to Rummere Park, and Lady Ansley gave him pretty clearly to -understand that her daughter knew how to appreciate him. - -"No great harm has been done," sighed the anxious mother, "and I may -thank that brave young girl for matters being no worse." - - * * * * * - -On the third day after the assizes had begun a gentleman--a -stranger--drove up hurriedly to the Loadstone court-house. His handsome -face was white and haggard, his eyes were dim with fear. He looked as -though he had been travelling night and day, and had known neither sleep -nor rest. He sprung impatiently from the carriage and hurried up the -steps of the court-house. He saw one of the officers standing inside, -and he went up to him eagerly. - -"Has the trial for murder commenced?" he asked. - -"It is over, sir. It was finished the day that it was begun." - -"Tell me all about it, please. Make haste--my time is precious. Was -there a young lady--did a young lady come to give evidence?" - -"Yes; and her evidence saved the prisoner's life, sir. I will tell you -as briefly as I can." - -He repeated what had taken place, and as he spoke, an expression of pity -came over the handsome face of the listener. - -"Poor child," he murmured to himself--"my brave, noble love! What was -the young lady's name?" he asked, aloud. - -"Vaughan, sir--I remember it well--Hyacinth Vaughan." - -"Thank you," said the gentleman, remunerating his informant. "And now -can you tell me where she is? Where did she go after the trial?" - -"There are many who would like to know that, sir. Colonel Lennox has -offered a hundred pounds to anyone who will bring him news of her. I -should say every inch of ground in Loadstone had been searched over and -over again." - -Adrian Darcy--for it was he--looked at the man in bewildered surprise. - -"You don't mean to tell me that she is lost?" he cried. - -"She is indeed, sir. There have been advertisements, and rewards have -been offered; but all has been in vain. The gentleman whose life she -saved--Mr. Lennox--is almost wild about her disappearance. But, if you -are interested in the case, read the report in the _Loadstone Journal_. -It is a splendid one." - -"Lost one!" repeated Adrian. "It is impossible! Oh, my darling, my -child-like, innocent love, what terrible fate has befallen you?" - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - - -The search that Adrian Darcy made proved as unsatisfactory as that which -had been conducted by Colonel Lennox. Do what he would, Adrian could -find no trace of Hyacinth. He was not long in procuring a copy of the -_Loadstone Journal_, and there, in simple, truthful words, he read her -story. His first feeling was one of intense indignation against Claude -Lennox. - -"She is so young," he said to himself--"so young and so easily led. Her -very simplicity ought to have been her shield. How could he betray the -trust she placed in him?" - -Then he saw what was said of Claude. He was young, handsome, gifted, -eagerly sought after, greatly admired. It was not to be wondered at that -a girl who had led the retired, dull, monotonous life of Hyacinth -Vaughan should have been dazzled by him and have placed implicit faith -in him. But, after all, she did not love him. If she had she would not -have repented of her elopement before it was concluded--she would not -have returned home. It had been but a temporary charm after all. She -had, doubtless, been captivated by his handsome face. Youth invariably -loves youth. It must have been a novelty to her, living as she did in -the midst of old people, who, though kind, were cold and formal, to meet -someone lively, gay, and fascinating. It was not wonderful that she -should let her calmer, better judgment sleep, and act under his -influence. - -It was such a simple story, and she had told it so clearly, with such -humble acknowledgment of her own fault in every word--with such an -entire conviction that in coming forward to save Claude Lennox she had -lost every hope in life--that his heart ached as he read. He could -picture that fair sweet face, with its sorrowful eyes and quivering -lips, the centre of all observation in that crowded court. He could -almost feel the shock and the horror that had mastered her when she -found that she must appear in public and tell the story that she had -never dared to tell even him. - -"My poor Hyacinth!" he said. "Oh, if she had but trusted me--if she had -but trusted me--if she had but told me herself of this error, and not -left me to hear it from others! I can forgive that half-elopement; it -was but the shadow of a sin, after all, repented of before it was half -committed, and atoned for by bitter suffering. But I find it hard to -forgive her for not having trusted me." Then, again he remembered how -young, how shy, how timid she was. "I must not be hard on her, even in -my thoughts," he said; "perhaps she intended to tell me when she was -more at her ease with me." - -Then, as the simple story of her heroism told upon him, he ceased to -think of her fault, and was lost in admiration of her courage. - -"How many there are," he thought, "who would have let the prisoner take -his chance, and would have thought more of saving their reputation than -of preserving his life! How simple and brave, how true and loyal she is! -Oh, Cynthy, my lost love, if you had but trusted me!" - -He took up the _Times_, and there he found the story told again. All -notice of her fault was quite hidden by the admiration expressed for her -courage, her unselfish heroism, her undaunted bravery. "If I could but -find her," he said--"find her and tell her the world admires instead of -condemning her!" - -He understood better than anyone her sensitive disposition; he knew that -she would deem herself all unworthy--that she would look upon herself as -lost to home, to friends, to hope, to happiness, to love; he knew how -her tender conscience magnified even trifling faults, and his heart grew -heavy for her. Where was she? What was she doing? What would become of -her? He redoubled his efforts, but they were all in vain. After days and -weeks fruitlessly spent, he returned to Bergheim, having no good news to -tell. By the stately baronet and his wife Adrian's story was heard -without one comment. Lady Vaughan's fair old face grew cold and sad. - -"Did she--the child I trusted--deceive me so far as to leave my roof -with a stranger? Tell me no more, Adrian; my heart is heavy and sore. -This is the first taint that has ever fallen on the Vaughans." - -"You must not call it a taint," cried Adrian. "Do not forget how young -she was, how full of poetry and romance, how easily persuaded--a girl -like Hyacinth would be but as a reed in the hands of Claude Lennox." - -"The Vaughans are never weak, Adrian; they have ever been a brave and -noble race." - -"Not one of them has been braver or more noble than Hyacinth," cried -Adrian, hotly. "I do not say that she is without fault, or that she is -not to blame; but I do say the atonement made far exceeds the fault; -think of the courage required of a young girl like her to stand up in a -public court and tell the story of an error like hers, even though it -was so quickly repented of." - -"Think of the shame," said Lady Vaughan, with a shudder. But Adrian -would not have it so. He told Lady Vaughan what the newspapers said of -her granddaughter. - -"To me," remarked the lady, "it is almost immaterial whether the papers -praise her or blame her; the disgrace lies in such a name as hers being -in the newspapers at all." - -But Sir Arthur was not quite so hard. - -"She must have been very dull at Queen's Chase," he said. "I have often -thought so. There was not a young face about the place but hers. That -young Lennox is very handsome--just the man to take a girl's fancy." - -"You have used the right word, Sir Arthur," observed Adrian. "He did -stir her fancy, but not her heart; he stirred her imagination. I have no -doubt that in his eloquent way he made her believe that in leaving home -she was doing something grand and heroic. See how quickly her better -judgment came to her aid, and how quickly she repented of her error." - -"It is very noble of you to defend her," said Lady Vaughan, "but--but I -cannot hold with you. She was the dearly loved child of my old age--all -my hopes rested on her. I thought I had preserved her like a lily in the -shade, and the result of all my care was an elopement and a public -appearance in a court of justice. Oh, Adrian, say no more to me--say no -more!" - -He found it was useless to defend Hyacinth; the proud and stately old -lady could not brook the idea. - -"No lady--mind, I mean no true lady--ever makes a public sensation. The -child has ruined, blighted her whole life, and no one can help her." - -But even Lady Vaughan, after her first resentment had died away, began -to share Adrian's uneasiness. "It would have been better," she said, "if -the child had returned to us and lived it down!" - -It dawned upon her at last, as it did upon all of them, that Hyacinth -believed herself cut off from them forever. "It shows at least," said -Lady Vaughan, "how keenly she felt the enormity of the wrong done." - -As the long months passed on and no news came of Hyacinth, the hot, -proud anger died from Lady Vaughan, the fair old face grew wistful and -sad; her grandchild's offence grew less in her eyes, and the great -atonement made grew greater; and then other events happened: Lord -Chandon died, and then Adrian was obliged to return to England. Sir -Arthur absolutely refused to remain at Bergheim without him. - -"We must go home some time, my lady," he said; "why not now? After all, -I think you exaggerate what you call the disgrace: let us go! People, I -am sure, will not distress us by even mentioning the matter." - -And Sir Arthur was right: whatever opinions might have been expressed -among the inhabitants at Oakton, they had, one and all, too much respect -for the stately mistress of Queen's Chase to speak their minds before -her. It was understood that Miss Vaughan preferred remaining abroad, so -there was nothing more to be said. No one knew how sorely the sweet face -was missed from the old mansion, or what long hours Lady Vaughan spent -in wondering what had become of Hyacinth. Sir Arthur and his wife -settled down to the old life again, but they found out then how much -brightness had vanished with the fair face they missed so sorely. - -The new Lord Chandon took possession of his estate; there was no -difficulty about it; he was the direct heir, and the old lord had always -spoken of him as his successor. He took possession of Chandon Court, -with its magnificent rent-roll, and its thousand treasures of art; but -despite his wealth, his position, and his grandeur, Lord Adrian was the -most unhappy of men. He would have given all he had, and all he ever -hoped to enjoy, to find Hyacinth Vaughan; he would have poured out his -wealth like water, so that he might find her. But long months had passed -now since the day on which she disappeared, and no news had been heard -of her yet. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - - -As Hyacinth Vaughan left the Loadstone Assize Court she drew her veil -tightly over her face, and, looking neither to the right nor left, made -her way through the dense crowd of people. No one noticed her; they were -all too busily engaged in discussing the events of the trial. She had -not the least idea whither she was going, or what she was about to do; -all she remembered was that she had broken every tie that bound her to -her past life, that it was all dead to her, and that she had saved -Claude. How vividly, as she walked through the long street, there came -back to her a remembrance of one day when she had driven over with Sir -Arthur and Lady Vaughan to Loadstone. What a deep gulf lay between that -time and this! Then people had bowed to her as though she had been some -great lady, and honor and respect had been shown to her. Now, homeless, -friendless, she was a fugitive in that same town, and knew not where to -lay her head. - -She walked until her limbs ached, and then she stopped suddenly, for the -first time asking herself where she was going--what she was to do. "For -I am dead," she said to herself, with a low moan, "to all who know -me--dead to my beautiful past. There is no Hyacinth Vaughan. And what is -to become of the wretched girl who once bore the name? I do not know." - -She must go somewhere--she could not pace the long street and the silent -road all night; she must rest or she should fall, a helpless inert mass, -on the ground. Suddenly she came to the railway station; a porter was -shouting--"Train for London! Passengers for London, take your seats!" - -She could not account for the impulse which led her to purchase a ticket -and take her place in a second-class carriage for London. She had no -idea what she should do when she reached her destination. - -It was a rest to sit alone in the carriage--a luxury to close the tired -eyes, and say to herself that she had no more to do, for Claude was -saved; yet, when her eyes were closed, so many strange scenes flashed -before them, that she opened them with a terrified cry. It seemed to her -that she was too tired even to rest, and that the aching pains in her -limbs grew worse, her eyes burned, and her head throbbed with pain. - -Yet through it all--through fatigue and pain--there was the great relief -that Claude was saved. Of Adrian she dared not think. She knew that this -"fiery sorrow" was waiting for her when she should regain strength and -calmness, when she could look it in the face; as it was, she shrunk, -sick and shuddering, from it. She put it from her. She would have none -of it. If she had then remembered all about Adrian Darcy, she would have -gone mad and nothing would have saved her. - -The train sped on. When she dared not keep her eyes closed any longer, -she watched the fields and trees as the train whirled by. It was strange -how mingled were her thoughts; at one time she was at Queen's Chase, -sitting with Lady Vaughan in the silent rooms; at another she was with -Claude in the faint rosy morning dawn, and the murdered woman was lying -under the hedge; then she was with Adrian by the waterfall, and he was -telling her, that he should love her for evermore; then she stood beside -a green grave in a country churchyard, over which the foliage of a large -tree drooped--beneath was a stone with the inscription, "Hyacinth -Vaughan--aged eighteen." - -From all these mingled dreams and visions she woke with a terrible -scream. - -"If I cannot sleep," she thought to herself, "I shall go mad." - -Then everything went black before her eyes, her head fell back, and she -knew no more until loud, strange voices shouted "Euston Square." - -She was in the great Babylon at last. So young, so lovely, so simple in -her child-like innocence; alone, unprotected, unknown in the streets of -that great city: having neither home nor friends--having neither brain -nor mind clear--what was to save her? She left the carriage and sat for -some time on one of the seats on the platform; the same heaviness, the -same strange mixture of past and present confused her. - -"I must sleep," she said to herself--"I must sleep or I shall go mad." -She rose and walked out of the station. What a labyrinth of streets, -squares, and houses! Where could she find rest? Suddenly across the -bewildered mind came one clear thought. - -"I have money, and I must take lodgings--I can pay for them; and, in a -room of my own, I can sleep until my brain is clear." - -She walked slowly down one street, and up another, but saw no -announcement of "Lodgings to Let." Then she fancied all the houses were -reeling, and the sky closing in upon her. The next moment they were -steady again, and she was standing, looking wildly around. Again she -walked on a little farther, and then became sick, faint and giddy. - -"This is something more than the want of sleep," she said to herself. "I -am ill. I cannot walk--I cannot stand. Everything is reeling around -me." - -Suddenly her eyes fell on a brass plate on the door of a house quite -near--"Dr. Chalmers." - -"I will consult him," she thought. "Perhaps he can prescribe something -that will take this dreadful feeling away." - -She went up the little flight of steps and knocked. Then it seemed as -though the door were falling on her, and she seized one of the iron -railings to save herself from falling. A neat maid-servant opened the -door. - -"Is Dr. Chalmers at home?" asked Hyacinth; and the sound of her voice -struck her as being so strange that she hardly knew it. - -"Yes, miss," was the smiling reply. - -"I wish to see him," said Hyacinth. - -"What name shall I give?" asked the maid. - -"None--I am quite a stranger." - -She was shown into the surgery, and sat down on a large low lounge. A -strange drowsy calm came over her. She pulled off her hat and veil, and -laid back her tired head on the cushion. - -Some few minutes elapsed before Dr. Chalmers entered the surgery; and -when he did so, he started back in wonder that was half alarm. There on -the lounge sat a girl, quite young, and lovely as a vision. The whole -face, so white and rigid, was peacefully beautiful--he had never seen -anything like it before. A profusion of golden hair had fallen over the -cushions, and two little white hands were clasped convulsively together. -Dr. Chalmers went a few steps nearer, and then his professional instinct -told him that this was no sleep. The girl seemed perfectly unconscious. - -He spoke to her, and she seemed to arouse partially, and sat up, gazing -before her in a dazed, vacant way. Her little hands fell helplessly upon -her lap, and she seemed wholly unconscious of the presence of another in -the room. The good doctor looked at her in anxious alarm. He spoke to -her once, twice, thrice. She did not hear him. The doctor was wondering -what he should do, when she started up with a loud cry. - -"He is innocent--he is quite innocent. Oh, shall I be in time to save -him?" - -She sprung toward the door, but never reached it, for, with a low -moaning cry, she fell senseless on the floor. He raised her and laid her -on the couch, and then opened the door hastily and went to the foot of -the stairs. - -"Mother," he called, "will you come down? I want you at once!" - -A kindly-looking lady with a pleasant, comely face entered the room. - -"Look here," said Dr. Robert Chalmers, pointing to the white figure. -"What are we to do, mother?" - -Mrs. Chalmers went up to Hyacinth; with a soft womanly touch she put -back the rich, clustering hair, with keen womanly eyes she noted the -loveliness of the white face. - -"Has she fainted? Who is she?" she asked of her son. - -"I do not know--I had no time to speak to her. She is some lady who has -called for medical advice, no doubt. It seems to me more like a case of -incipient brain fever than of mere fainting; by the strange way in which -she cried out I should imagine her to be quite delirious." - -Then they both stood for some minutes gazing in silence on that -exquisite face. - -"She does not look more than eighteen," said the doctor--"she is very -young. What shall we do with her, mother?" - -The lady laid her hand on her son's arm. - -"We must do as the good Samaritan did when he found his fellow-man -wounded and helpless by the wayside," was the gentle reply. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - - -It was in September that the poor distraught girl went in the madness of -her grief and pain to the doctor's house, and if she had been a child of -the house, she could not have been more kindly treated. It was October -when she opened her eyes with a faint gleam of reason in their troubled -depths. She looked around in wonder; she had not the least idea where -she was. The room she was in was exquisitely neat and clean, there were -some fine engravings on the walls, the furniture was of quaint design, -and there were a few vases and ornaments; yet it was neither the almost -royal grandeur of Queen's Chase nor the simple luxury of the hotel at -Bergheim. Where was she? Why was she lying in this strange place with -this feeling of weakness and weariness upon her? - -Presently a kind, motherly, comely face bent over her, and a quiet, -soothing voice said: "I am so glad to find you a little better, my -dear." - -"Have I been very ill?" she asked; and the sound of her voice was so -faint, so unlike her own that it seemed as though it came from a great -distance. - -"Yes, you have been very ill, dear child." - -"Where am I?" she asked; and the kind face smiled again. - -"I will tell you all about it when you are a little better. You are -quite safe and with good friends. Try to drink this and go to sleep -again." - -Hyacinth drank something that was warm and nice, and then looked up in -the kindly face. - -"Do you know," she said, "it is very strange, but I have really -forgotten my own name!" She laughed a little hysterical laugh, and Mrs. -Chalmers looked anxious. - -"I must forbid you to speak again," she said; "my son is the doctor, -and, if you disobey me, I shall summon him." - -Hyacinth closed her eyes; a quiet sense of rest fell over her, and she -was asleep again. - -"Poor child," said Mrs. Chalmers, looking at her. "Who is she? I wonder -what is her name?" - -She slept so long that the kind-hearted woman began to feel uneasy. She -went down and told her son. - -"Sleeping, is she? Then do not wake her; sleep is the best medicine for -her. Mind she has plenty of port wine and beef-tea." - -"She says she has forgotten her own name," said Mrs. Chalmers, -anxiously. - -"She will be all right by and by, mother. I only hope the return of -memory will not bring her pain." - -The next time Hyacinth opened her eyes, she saw a keen, kind, shrewd -face looking at her own, and a pair of dark eyes that smiled as she -smiled. - -"You are getting better," said Dr. Chalmers. - -She raised her hand to her head, and then a slight look of alarm crossed -her face. "Where is my hair?" she asked, wonderingly. - -"We sacrificed your hair to save your brain," he replied; "it was all -cut off." - -Then he heard her give a profound sigh, and he guessed that memory was -returning. He took one of the thin worn hands in his. - -"I do not want you to think of painful things just now," he said. "Will -you bear in mind that nothing but absolute rest will restore you to -health, and compose yourself accordingly?" - -Hyacinth did as she was advised: she discarded all painful thoughts from -her mind, and consequently slept as she had not slept for many long -weeks. She awoke one morning calm and composed, with reason and memory -fully restored. She knew that she was Hyacinth Vaughan. Slowly and by -degrees the terrible past returned to her. - -"I was in time, thank Heaven!" she said. "I was in time!" She remembered -the crowded court--the hundreds of eyes that had been turned upon -her--the thunder of applause that none of the officers could -repress--the ringing cheers that followed Claude's release. But after -that all was a blank. She remembered nothing that had passed since she -stood in the assize court, blind and dizzy, until she opened her eyes in -that pretty room. - -White, fragile, worn almost to a shadow, helpless as a child, she lay -there now with reason in full sway. Dead to her old life, to her -friends, her hopes, her plans--dead to her lover and her love--she was -painfully beginning a new life, in which none of these had any part--a -new life into which she felt that hope, love, or happiness could never -come. - -A week later, and Hyacinth Vaughan, looking like a frail shadow of her -former self, sat, propped up by pillows, in a large easy-chair that had -been placed for her near the window; her nerveless hands were clasped, -her large eyes, so sad and dreamy, lingered on the clouds that drifted -rapidly over the sky. - -She was alone and deeply engrossed in thought; the time had come when -she must speak to these people who had been so kind to her--when she -must tell something of herself. They had been so kind to her, so -attentive, so considerate--they had not even asked her name. Mrs. -Chalmers always called her "child." Her son had a variety of names for -her, the principal of which was Queen Mab. Such kindness could spring -only from noble and generous hearts. Both mother and son had refrained -from asking her any questions. Said Dr. Chalmers to his mother: - -"When she knows us, and feels that she can trust us she will speak." - -They had both divined that there had been some terrible sorrow in the -girl's life--some sorrow that had struck her down and brought her to the -brink of the grave. They knew, too, that she must be a lady of good -birth and refinement. But never by word or deed did they distress her by -the least symptom of curiosity. They had gone still further--when she -attempted to say anything, Mrs. Chalmers had laid kindly fingers on her -trembling lips, and said: - -"Hush! Wait till you are stronger and better, my dear and then you shall -talk." - -But now the time had come when she knew that she must speak to -them--must thank them for such kindness as the world rarely shows--must -tell them how she was dead, but had risen to this new, fresh life in -which the past was to have neither share nor place. The task was -terrible to her, but she must undergo it. It seemed a direct answer to -her thoughts when the door opened, and Dr. Chalmers came in with his -mother. The doctor carried with him a bunch of purple grapes, which he -laid before her. - -"How kind you are to me!" she said, with trembling lips. "I have been -thinking all the morning. How can I thank you? How can I ever repay -you?" - -"Doctors never expect thanks," said Dr. Chalmers; "and we are repaid by -your recovery." - -But the beautiful eyes were filled with tears. She took the old lady's -hand and raised it to her lips. The doctor held up his finger in -warning, but Hyacinth said: - -"Let me speak--do let me speak. I cannot live in this silence and -constraint any longer." - -"Let her speak, Robert," said his mother; "it is best." - -Hyacinth kissed again the kindly hand she held in hers. She took the -doctor's and clasped them both together. - -"You have been so kind to me," she said. "I can never repay you. I have -no money to pay even for the necessaries you have given me. I know you -do not want it, but I cannot understand how it is that you have been so -good to me." - -"My dear child," cried Mrs. Chalmers, "we have done nothing but what -every Christian should. You came by accident to us, sick unto death, -unhappy, friendless, and homeless, as it seemed--what less could we do -than to take you in and succor you? We could not send you sick and -almost dying into the streets." - -"No! but you might have sent me to some hospital. I am sure that few -would have done to me as you have done." - -"We have only done what we thought to be right--no more." - -"What you have done to me," returned Hyacinth, "I pray Heaven to return -to you a thousandfold. I can never sufficiently thank you, but I want to -say something else to you." - -Her face grew so white, and her lips trembled so, that the doctor was on -the point of forbidding another word. She looked piteously at him. - -"Let me speak," she said; "the weight on my heart is so great I can -hardly bear it. Were I to do what I wish, I should tell you all my -story; but think of me as mercifully as you can--I am dead in life." - -They looked at her in utter wonder. In the same faint voice she -continued: - -"I am dead to my home--I shall never see it again, and to my friends--I -shall never see them again. I am dead to all the hopes that once made -earth like heaven for me." - -Her voice died away in a faint, moaning sob, and there was -silence--silence that was broken at last by the clear, deep voice of the -doctor. - -"Will you tell us why this is?" he asked. - -"I cannot," she replied, "I can only trust to your mercy. I cannot tell -you either my name or my station, or what has slain me, when life was -most sweet." - -"Did you do something very wrong?" asked Mrs. Chalmers, with a shadow on -her kindly face. - -Hyacinth raised her beautiful eyes to the drifting clouds, which she -could see from the window. - -"I did something," she replied--"but, no--I don't think it was so very -wrong; hundreds do it, and never think it wrong at all. I only planned -it; a fear that it might be wrong came over me, and I did not do it. But -the consequences of even the little I did--the shadow as it were of a -sin--fell over me, and my whole life is darkened." - -"You can tell us no more?" said the doctor. - -"No!" she replied; mournfully; "I throw myself on your mercy." - -"She has never done anything wrong, Robert," interrupted Mrs. Chalmers, -addressing her son; "take my word for it. Look at that innocent face, -those clear, true eyes--no one could believe they were coupled with -guilt. I trust you, my dear," she added, turning to Hyacinth. "Keep your -secret--never mind it; I believe in you, and shall never ask what it -is." - -A grateful look came over the girl's face. - -"Thank you," she said. "You are right; I am not wicked. In one action of -my life I was imprudent and foolish; the consequences of that action, -which could not have been foreseen by any one, have crushed me. I am not -wicked. See, I ask you to let me kiss your face; if my lips were stained -with false words, I would not--I could not do so. I clasp your -hands--ah, such true, kind hands they have been to me!--in my own; but, -if mine were stained with crime, I could not do it." - -"I believe you, my dear child," said Mrs. Chalmers; "you need say no -more." - -"I may tell you this," continued the girl. "I had a name as old and -honored as any in the land; but I have laid it down and shall never use -it again. I had friends--kind, strict, noble, generous; I have looked my -last upon them. I had--oh, dear Heaven, it is hard to say!--I had a -lover, whom I loved dearly, and his face I have looked upon for the last -time. I am dead to all--dead in life!" - -Her voice faltered, she broke into a passionate fit of weeping. During -this time the doctor had spoken never a word, but now he bent over her. - -"Child," he said, "you are so young, so simple, that, if any wrong has -been done, you have been sinned against, not the sinner. Like my mother, -I trust you. We have neither daughter nor sister; you shall be both. Our -home shall be your home--what we have you shall share with us as long as -life lasts." - -She kissed the strong hand clasped in her own; her warm tears fell on -it. - -"You are very good to me," she said, "and though I tell you that I come -to you as one risen from the dead--though I have no name, no -friends--you will trust me, you will believe in me?" - -"Yes," replied Dr. Chalmers, calmly. "I have not studied the human face -all these years to be mistaken at last. I trust you implicitly." - -"You must have a name," cried Mrs. Chalmers; "all the world need not -know what we know. People will think you are a ward or _protegee_ of -mine; but you must have a name." - -"Let her take ours, mother," suggested her son. But Hyacinth's face -flushed. - -"That would hardly do," said Mrs. Chalmers. "I will give you mine, my -dear--the name that was mine in my girlhood--people used to think it a -pretty one--Millicent Holte." - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - - -"Millicent Holte--that is the name you must assume," said Mrs. Chalmers -to Hyacinth; "and, though I never was so pretty or so sweet as you are, -still I was a very happy girl--and I do not like to see a young life -blighted. Kiss me, Millicent; you shall be like a daughter to me." - -"I do not remember my own mother," observed the girl, simply, laying her -fair head on the kindly breast, "and I thank Heaven for sending me to -you." - -"Before we finish this subject at once and forever," said the doctor, -"let me ask you, Millicent, is there anything that I can do for you in -connection with your secret? If so, speak to me just as freely as though -I were your brother, and command me as you will." - -"You can do nothing," she answered, mournfully. "I should not have given -up but that I knew all hope was past, nothing can undo what has been -done--nothing can remove, nothing lighten its shadow." - -"Are you unjustly punished?" he asked. - -"Sometimes I think so, but I cannot tell." - -"We will not mention the matter again," said the doctor, kindly; "we -will think only of the new life and getting well. As a preparatory step -to the latter, let me tell you that you must eat all these grapes, and -then lie down and sleep again." - -For the sweet face had grown so white and worn, so pale and tired--he -saw that the effort she had made had been a most painful one. - -"We will leave her alone, mother," he said. - -But before Mrs. Chalmers quitted the room she unlocked a drawer and took -from it a small purse; this she placed in Millicent's hand. - -"This is yours, my dear," she said; "it fell from your pocket the -evening you came here." - -The sight of the little purse almost unnerved her. She remembered how -Adrian had laughed at it, and had promised to buy her one with golden -clasps. She took it, and then looked wistfully in the lady's face. - -"No, my dear," said Mrs. Chalmers, "it is not to be thought of for one -moment. What my son and I have done has not been for gain. Keep it, my -poor child; you will need it in this new life that lies before you." - -Then they left her alone, and the thoughts that mastered her were very -sad ones. This new life looked almost terrible now that she was brought -face to face with it. She began to wonder what they were doing at home, -whether she should hear their names again, whether Adrian was still with -them, and what he now thought of her. How he must despise himself for -having ever loved her--she who had been the subject of popular comment -and gossip--she whose name had been upon every lip! He who admired -delicacy and refinement, how he must dislike her! She checked herself. - -"I must not think of it," she said, "or I shall go mad." - -Meanwhile mother and son had gone down to the cozy dining-room, and -stood looking at each other in silence. - -"It is a strange story, mother," said Dr. Chalmers; "I cannot understand -it. What should you think the poor girl has been doing?" - -"I cannot even form an idea," replied Mrs. Chalmers; "she has done -nothing wrong--I am quite sure of that." - -"Yet it must have been something very grave and serious to drive a girl -from her home and her friends--to cause her to give up her name, and to -be, as she says, dead to life." - -"Something unusually grave, no doubt, but without wrong on her part; I -could no more doubt her than I could myself. However unhappy or -unfortunate she may be, she is good, true, pure, innocent, and simple as -a child." - -"Yes, I believe so, but it puzzles me greatly to know what her story can -be. Still, we have taken her to ourselves, poor child; so we must make -her strong and well and happy." - -"Robert," said Mrs. Chalmers, gently--and she looked anxiously at her -son's handsome, clever face--"be as kind as you will to her, but, my -dear, do not fall in love with her." - -"You may depend upon it, mother," he returned--and his face flushed and -he laughed uneasily--"that, even if I should do so, I will never say -one word about it. I shall think of Millicent, poor child, as of some -petted younger sister, and do my best for her." Then the doctor opened a -ponderous volume, and his mother knew that all conversation was at an -end. - -They were not rich, those good Samaritans, although the doctor was -making rapid strides in his profession. Theirs had been a hard struggle. -The mother had been left a widow when quite young; she had only a small -income, the son was desirous of a good education, and then he chose the -profession he felt most inclination for. But it had been up-hill -work--they had no friends and no influence. They had nothing but his -skill and industry to rely upon. Both, however, soon made their way. His -practice increased rapidly, and when Hyacinth found refuge with him he -had begun to save money, and was altogether in what the people of the -world call comfortable circumstances. It was most probably the -remembrance of their early struggles that made both mother and son so -kind and charitable to the unhappy girl who had fallen under their -hands. Perhaps, had they always been prosperous, they might have had -harder hearts. As it was, the memory of their past struggles softened -them and made them kinder to the whole world. - -Mrs. Chalmers, well-born and well-bred herself, was quick to recognize -that Hyacinth was a gentlewoman--one who had been accustomed not only to -a life of refinement, but of luxury. She was quick also to recognize the -pure mind, the innocent, simple, gentle heart. - -It was all settled, and Millicent--as Hyacinth Vaughan was now -called--became one of the family. Mrs. Chalmers always treated her as -though she was her own daughter. The doctor spoiled, indulged, teased, -and worshipped her. They did all that was possible for her; still the -girl was not happy. She regained her health and strength very slowly, -but no color returned to that delicate, lovely face--the beautiful eyes -were always shadowed--no one ever saw her smile. As she grew stronger, -she busied herself in doing all kinds of little services for Mrs. -Chalmers; but this life among the middle class was all new to her. She -had never known anything but the sombre magnificence of Queen's Chase -and the hotel life at Bergheim. She was lost, and hardly knew what to -do. It was new to her to live in small rooms--to be waited on by one -servant--to hear and know all that passed in the household--new, -strange, and bewildering to her. But she busied herself in attending to -Mrs. Chalmers. She did many little services, too, for the doctor; and at -last he grew to love the beautiful, sad face and plaintive voice as he -had never loved anything before. She grew stronger, but not happier, and -they became anxious about her. - -"It is so unnatural in a girl of her age," said Mrs. Chalmers; "the -trouble must have been a great one, since she cannot forget it. In my -opinion, Robert, nothing will rouse her but change of scene and work. -She seems to be always in a sorrowful dream." - -What Mrs. Chalmers said the young girl often thought. After a time she -wearied inexpressibly of the dull routine of her every-day life. - -"I am dying," she would say to herself--"dying of inanition. I must -begin to work." - -One day, when the doctor sat alone in his surgery, she went to him and -told him. - -"If you will only be kind enough to let me work," she said. "I shall -always love this my home; but it seems to me that in body and mind I -should be much better if I could work." - -"And work you shall," decided the doctor; "leave all to me." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - - -Dr. Chalmers was getting on in the world. His practice had at first been -confined exclusively to the locality in which he lived; but of late -noble ladies had sent for him, and his name was mentioned with great -honor in the medical journals. He had been consulted in some very -difficult cases, and people said he saved Lady Poldean's life when all -the physicians had pronounced her case hopeless. Honors were falling -thick and fast upon him. - -Lady Dartelle, of Hulme Abbey, was one of those who placed implicit -faith in him. Her ladyship was credited with passing through life with -one eye firmly fixed on the "main chance." She never neglected an -opportunity of saving a guinea; and she was wont to observe that she had -much better advice from Dr. Chalmers for five guineas than she could -procure from a fashionable physician for twenty. Her youngest daughter, -Clara, had been ailing for some time, and Lady Dartelle decided on -leaving Hulme Abbey and coming up to town for the benefit of the -doctor's advice. - -Lady Dartelle was a widow--"left," as she was accustomed to observe, -emphatically, "with four dear children." The eldest, the son and heir, -Sir Aubrey, was travelling on the Continent; her two daughters, Veronica -and Mildred, were accomplished young ladies who had taken every worldly -maxim to heart, and never bestowed a thought upon anything save of the -most frivolous nature. - -They had made their _debut_ some years before, but it had not been a -very successful one. The young ladies were only moderately good looking, -and they had not the most amiable of tempers. Perhaps this latter fact -might account in some degree for several matrimonial failures. The young -ladies had not accompanied Lady Dartelle to town--they objected to be -seen there out of season--so that her ladyship had the whole of the -mansion to herself. - -Dr. Chalmers had one day been sitting for some time by the child, -examining her, talking to her and asking her innumerable questions. She -was a fair, fragile, pretty child, with great earnest eyes and sensitive -lips. The doctor's heart warmed to her; and when Lady Dartelle sent to -request his presence in her room, he looked very anxious. - -"I want you to tell me the truth, doctor," she said. "The child has -never been very well nor very ill. I want to know if you think she is in -any danger." - -"I cannot tell," he replied. "It seems to me that the child's chances -are equal for life or death." - -"I may not send her to school, then?" she said; and a shade of annoyance -passed over the lady's face. - -"Certainly not," was the prompt reply. "She will require the most -constant and kindly home-care. She should have a kind and cheerful -companion. I should not advise you entirely to forget her education, but -it must not be forced." - -"That is tantamount to saying that I must have a governess at home--and -I do not see my way clear to that at all. Servants are bad enough; but -the real plague of life are governesses. I have no idea where to find a -suitable one. One's troubles seem to have no end." - -To which remark the doctor wisely made no reply. Lady Dartelle looked up -at him. - -"You must see a great deal of the world, Dr. Chalmers. Can you tell me -where I can find a trustworthy governess? I must have a gentlewoman, of -course; yet she must not be one likely to thrust herself forward. That I -could not endure. What is the matter, doctor?" she asked; for Dr. -Chalmers' face had suddenly flushed scarlet, and his eyes intimated -something which my Lady Dartelle did not quite understand. - -"I was thinking," he replied, "that I do know a young lady who would be -all that you require." - -"I am very glad," said Lady Dartelle, looking much relieved. "Who is -she? What is her name?" - -"She is a _protegee_ of my mother's--her name is Millicent Holte. She is -highly educated, and most sweet-tempered--in fact, I do not think, if -all England were searched, that any one so exactly suited for the -position could be found. She is of gentle birth, and has a quiet, -graceful manner that is very charming. There is only one objection." - -"What is that?" asked Lady Dartelle, anxiously. - -"She has never been a governess, and might not, perhaps, like the -position--I cannot tell." - -"She has never taught--of course that would make some difference in the -stipend. I do not know that the deficiency need cause concern in respect -of anything else. Where is the young lady now?" - -"She is staying with my mother," said the doctor, his honest face -flushing at the need of concealment. - -"That is recommendation sufficient," vouchsafed Lady Dartelle, -graciously. "I shall require no other. When will it be convenient for me -to see her?" - -"I dare say mother could call upon you to-morrow and bring Miss Holte -with her." - -"That would be very nice. Three o'clock would be a convenient time for -me. Suppose Miss Holte should accept the engagement, would she be able, -do you think, to return to Hulme Abbey with me at the end of the week?" - -"I should imagine so. I do not know of anything to prevent it." - -Yet as he spoke, that fair, sweet, sad face seemed to rise before him, -and he wondered how he should bear his home when she was there no -longer. - -Still, he had done what she wanted. She had asked him to find her some -work to do, and he had complied with her request. Yet his heart smote -him as he thought of her--so fair, so fragile, so sensitive. How would -she like to be among strangers? Fortunately he had no conception of the -true life of a governess in a fashionable family; if he had had, it -would have been the last work of the kind he would have chosen for her -in whom he was interested. - -"The work will brace her nerves; it will do her good," he said to -himself; "and if by chance she does not like it, she need not -stay--there will always be a home for her with us." - -When he reached home he told her. She appeared neither pleased nor -regretful; it seemed to him that the common events of every-day life no -longer possessed the least interest for her. She asked no questions -about either Lady Dartelle or her place of residence, or how many -children she would have to teach. The young girl agreed with him that -she would do well to accept the offer. - -"Are you pleased?" he asked. "Do you think you will like the duties?" - -"I am very thankful to have some work to do," she replied; "and I am -deeply grateful to you, Dr. Chalmers." - -"You may well be that. I have never made such a sacrifice in my life as -that of letting you go, Millicent. I should not have done so but that I -think it will be for your good. Your home is still here, and if you do -not like Hulme Abbey, I will fetch you away at once." - -That night when the unhappy girl was alone in her room, she threw up her -arms with a despairing cry. "How many years have I to live? How many -years can I bear this, and live? Oh! Adrian, Adrian, if I could only -look once upon your face and die! Oh, my love, my love, how am I to live -and never see your face again?" - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - - -"There is one thing we are quite forgetting," said Dr. Chalmers, -"although we call ourselves such clever people." - -He pointed as he spoke to the little rings of golden hair, soft, fine as -silk, light as gold in color, like the small tendrils of a vine in -shape. She raised her beautiful, blushing face to his. - -"You did it," she said, half-reproachfully. "I look just like a boy. -What shall I do?" - -The doctor touched one of the soft golden rings with his finger. "This -is anything but the conventional governess style; Millicent should have -plain, Madonna-like braids of a dull gray tint--should she not, mother?" - -"I do not like your plan at all, Robert," said Mrs. Chalmers, looking at -her sweet, sad face. "I do not see why Millicent cannot be happy with -us, nor why she can not recover her strength here. I suppose you know -best. One thing is certain; she cannot leave us thus. Should you like, -my dear, to wear hair that was not your own?" - -"No, I should not like it at all," she replied, her face flushing. - -The doctor laughed aloud. - -"You will never make a woman of fashion, Millicent, as far as I -understand such beings. A lady with a magnificent head of hair of her -own carefully puts it out of sight and covers it with some one else's -hair. I think the fashion most hateful, but my opinion of course matters -little. Seriously speaking, Millicent, my mother must take you to a -hair-dresser's, as something must be done; this beautiful, graceful, -infantile head would never suit her ladyship." - -Much against Millicent's will a hair-dresser was taken into their -confidence. - -"Could I not wear a cap?" asked Millicent, looking shyly at the -magnificent coiffures of all colors. - -"It would be very unbecoming," said the hair-dresser. - -"A governess in a cap!" spoke Mrs. Chalmers. "No, that will not do at -all." - -"What does it matter?" thought the girl. "After all, my appearance will -really interest no one." - -And she submitted passively while a plain band of hair was chosen for -her by the hair-dresser and Mrs. Chalmers. When it had been arranged, -and she looked in the glass, she hardly recognized her face, the wavy -golden hair had always given such a graceful, fairy-like character to -her beauty. She looked many years older than she was--sad and subdued. -The plain band of hair seemed quite to alter her face. Mrs. Chalmers -kissed her. - -"Never mind, my dear," she said; "you will soon be your own pretty self -again," and the kindly words smote the young girl with deadliest pain. -Her own self? Ah, no!--that self was dead, never to live again. It was -but fitting that the old, graceful beauty--the girlish beauty Adrian had -loved so dearly--should die with it. - - * * * * * - -"A very proper person indeed," thought Lady Dartelle, when the interview -was nearly at an end; "evidently knows her place and mine; and I may own -to myself that the outlay is very little." - -For Lady Dartelle had, during the course of the interview, been -delighted with the brilliant accomplishments of the young girl. Her -playing was magnificent, her singing most exquisite--the pure, sweet -contralto voice had been highly cultivated. Then she spoke French and -German with such a pure, perfect accent, that Lady Dartelle began to -think that the terms expected would be high. She managed the matter -skilfully. She carefully concealed her admiration, and dwelt principally -on the fact that the young lady had never before been engaged in -teaching. - -"That makes an immense difference," said her ladyship, diplomatically. -"Still, as Miss Holte's appearance pleases me, I will not think of the -deficiencies. In addition, Miss Holte, to your teaching my youngest -daughter, I should wish you to speak French and Italian with my eldest -girls." - -Miss Holte bowed acquiescence, and her ladyship, finding that she -offered no objection to any amount of work, then mentioned a few other -"little duties" she wished to be attended to--"duties" she would not -have dared to exact from any one else. - -All arrangements were concluded greatly to her satisfaction, and then -Lady Dartelle asked Millicent if she would not like to see her new -pupil. The young girl said "Yes," and in answer to a summons from her -ladyship, the child came into the room. - -Then, for the first time, Millicent's heart was touched; the large, -earnest eyes looked into her own with an appealing expression, the -little burning hand trembled as it lay in her own. Millicent bent down -and kissed the sweet face. Something stirred in her heart that had long -seemed dead--something that brought with it exquisite pleasure and -exquisite pain. - -"In cases of this kind," said Lady Dartelle, "I find there is nothing -like a clear and straightforward understanding. I should like to tell -you, Miss Holte, that when we are quite alone you will sometimes dine -with us, and occasionally spend the evening in the drawing-room; but -when we have visitors such an arrangement will be impossible. My reasons -for saying this," continued her ladyship, blandly, turning to Mrs. -Chalmers, "are these. My son Aubrey is a frequent visitor at Hulme -Abbey; he often brings friends with him; and then I think precautions -with young people are necessary. I have seen sad results among my -friends where the precautions I think so necessary have not been taken." - -"I shall never wish for any society but that of my little pupil, Lady -Dartelle," said Millicent. - -And her ladyship was graciously pleased to observe that Miss Holte -seemed to be very sensible. - -It was all arranged; but as they drove home a sudden doubt came to -Hyacinth. Lady Dartelle spoke of her son's bringing visitors with him. -Suppose among them there should be any one she knew--any one who would -recognize her? The very thought of it made her sick and faint. No, it -was not likely; she had seen so few people, she had known so -few--besides, when visitors came, it was Lady Dartelle's wish that she -should not appear. - -"Even if I do appear," she said, "who that has known me in my bright -happy days--who that has known me as Hyacinth Vaughan--would recognize -me now?" - -Who could discover the lovely, smiling, radiant face under that sad, -careworn look? Where was the light that had shone in the beautiful -eyes--where were the smiles that had played round the perfect -lips--where the grace and happiness that had made the face like -sunshine? Years seemed to have passed over that bowed head--years of -sorrow, of care, of misery. No one could recognize her. She need have no -fear. - -She blushed crimson when Dr. Chalmers, on seeing her, laughed. She had -forgotten the false braids of hair. Nothing had the power to interest -her long. Her thoughts always flew to Adrian. What had he thought of -her? Had he forgotten her? What was he doing? She had completely -forgotten the braids. The doctor's mischievous laugh made her remember -them. - -"I declare, Millicent," he said, "I should have passed you in the street -without recognizing you. Why, you look ten years older, child, and so -altered!" His face grew serious and sad as he remembered the girl as he -had seen her first. - -"Shall you like Lady Dartelle?" he asked. - -Severe suffering had not blunted her keen instinct--the instinct that -had shown her that Claude was more enthusiastic than sincere, and that -Adrian was the most noble of men. - -"I shall like my pupil," she said, "I shall love her in time." - -"Now," observed the doctor, "I have hopes of you. This is the first time -you have used that word. Millicent," he continued, kindly, yet gravely, -"to love any thing, even though it be only a child, will be the -salvation of you." - -It was arranged that Millicent--Hyacinth had even learned to think of -herself by that name--should join Lady Dartelle on the Friday evening; -and on the following Saturday they were to go down to Hulme Abbey -together. Dr. Chalmers had promised to find time to run down in the -course of a few months. - -"You will naturally be anxious to see how Miss Holte gets on," said her -ladyship, adroitly; "and I shall be glad of your advice about Clara." - -Then the time for parting came. The separation proved harder than they -had thought. Millicent had grown to love the place and the people, as it -was characteristic of her grateful, loving nature, to care for all those -who were kind to her. It was her only home now; and the friends who -dwelt there had been goodness itself. Her sad heart grew heavier as she -thought of leaving them. - -"Yet, if I live on here as I have been doing," she said to herself, "I -shall lose my reason." - -When the time came to say farewell, Dr. Chalmers held her hands in his. - -"I am not a man of many words," he said, "but I tell you this--the -sunshine and joy of my heart go with you. How much I care for you, you -will never know; but Heaven's best blessing go with you and prosper you! -If you ever want a friend, send for me." - -In another minute Hyacinth had left the house that had been to her as a -haven of refuge and a heaven of rest. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - - -The beautiful November day was drawing to a close as Lady Dartelle and -Hyacinth neared the end of their journey. It had been a lovely day. The -branches of the trees were all bare of leaves, but the sun shone -brightly and the sky was clear. - -After the railway journey was ended, as they drove along the country -roads, a faint color came into Millicent's face, faint and exquisite as -the delicate bloom on the inner leaf of a wild rose, and a light shone -in her eyes. New life had come to her. The trees seemed to spread out -their grand branches as though to welcome her. The time was not so long -since she had talked to them in her pretty childlike way, believing they -could hear if not answer her. The life in that dull London house, where -no green leaf was to be seen, faded like a heavy dream. She could have -stretched out her hands to the trees, in fondest welcome. How had she -lived so long without seeing them? A long, deep sigh escaped her. Lady -Dartelle looked up. - -"I hope you are not tired, Miss Holte?" she said. - -"No, not at all, thank you; but the country looks so beautiful, and the -trees are like dear old friends." - -Her ladyship did not look very well pleased; she had not bargained for a -sentimental governess. - -"I hope," she returned stiffly, "you will find better friends at Hulme -Abbey than the trees are likely to prove." - -Another cry of delight escaped Hyacinth, for, on turning a sharp corner -of the road, the sea lay spread out before them. - -"Is Hulme Abbey near the sea?" she asked. - -"Almost too near," said Lady Dartelle, "for when the wind blows and the -tide is high we can hear the noise of the surf too plainly--that is the -only fault that any one could possibly find with Hulme. Do you like the -sea, Miss Holte?" - -She did not know. She had seen it twice--once when the world was all -fair and she was going to Bergheim, and again when the waves had sobbed -a dull requiem to all her hope and her love. Did she like it? The very -music seemed full of the sorrow of her life. She thought that she would -soon grow to love it with a passion that only poets lavish on the fair -beauties of nature. Then the gray turrets of the Abbey came in sight. - -"We are at home," said Lady Dartelle. - -Hulme Abbey was neither so spacious nor so magnificent as Queen's Chase. -It was an ancient building of imposing aspect, with square towers and an -old-fashioned gateway, the windows were large, and the exterior of the -house was ornamented with heavy carvings of stone. The building stood in -the midst of the beautiful grounds; a long chestnut avenue at the back -led to the woods, and these last sloped down to the very edge of the -sea. - -"We are not many minutes' walk from the shore," said Lady Dartelle, "and -one of your most important duties, Miss Holte, will be to take Miss -Clara down to the sea every day. The walk will be most beneficial to -her." - -The lonely, sorrowful heart clung to that idea of the sea; it would be a -companion, almost a friend to her. It had a voice that would speak to -her, that would tell her of her love, lost forever, and that would -whisper of the mysteries of life, so hard to understand. Lady Dartelle -almost wondered at the rapt, sublime expression that came over the -sweet, sad face. In another moment they were in the spacious -entrance-hall, servants bowing, Lady Dartelle proud and patronizing. - -"You are tired, and will like to go to your room," she said. "King, show -Miss Holte to her room." - -So for that one night the young girl escaped the ordeal she had -dreaded--the introduction to the daughters of Lady Dartelle. - -Hyacinth rose early the next morning. She could not control her -impatience to see the sea; it was as though some one she loved were -waiting for her. After a few inquiries from one of the servants, she -found her way to the shore; her whole heart went out in rapture to the -restless waters. She sat down and watched the waves as they rolled in -and broke on the shore. The smell of the salt breeze was delicious, the -grand anthem of the waves was magnificent to hear; and as she sat there -she wept--as she had not wept since her sorrow fell upon her--tears that -eased her heart of its burning load, and that seemed to relieve her -brain of its terrible pressure. - -Where was Adrian? The waves murmured his name. "My love, my lost, my -own," they seemed to chant, as the murmur died along the shore. Where -was he? Could it be that these same waves were chanting to him? - -"If I could only go to him," she said, "and fall sobbing at his feet, -and tell him how I love him!" - -Presently she went back to the house, feeling better than she had felt -for long months, and found, to her great relief, that none of the ladies -were up yet. The servant who had attended to her the night before was in -her room. - -"My name is Mary King, miss," she said, "and my lady told me I was to -attend the school-room. Would you like to see it?" - -Millicent followed her and the girl led the way to a pretty little room -that overlooked the woods. It was plainly furnished; but there was a -piano, an easel, and plenty of books and flowers. - -"This is the school-room, miss," said the maid, "and my lady thought -that, as Miss Clara will be here for only six hours during the day--that -is, for study--it would answer as a sitting-room for you as well." - -Hyacinth desired nothing better than the grand old trees to look at. The -maid wondered that she looked from the window instead of round the room. - -"I will bring you your breakfast at once, miss," said the girl. "Miss -Clara takes hers with you." - -After breakfast Lady Dartelle came in with the written order of studies -in her hand, and then Millicent found that her office was no sinecure. -There was one thing pleasant--every day she must spend two hours out of -doors with the young ladies in order to converse in French and Italian -with them. - -Lady Dartelle added that she had one remark to make, and that was that -she had noticed in Miss Holte a tendency to dreaminess--this was always -bad in young people, but especially out of place in a governess. She -trusted that Miss Holte would try and cure herself of it. When the lady -had gone away, the girl looked round the room, she wondered how long she -would have to live in it, and what she would have to pass through. What -sorrowful thoughts, what ghosts of her lost love and lost happiness -would haunt her! But in her wildest dreams she never fancied anything so -strange as that which afterward came to pass. - -She found that it was not without reason that she had dreaded the ordeal -of meeting the young ladies. They were not amiable girls. They were -tall, with good figures and high-bred faces--faces that, if they had -taken the trouble to cultivate more amiability and good temper, would -even have been passable, if not comely, but they wore continually an -expression of pride, discontent, and ill-temper. Lady Dartelle, like the -valiant and enterprising lady that she was, did her best with them and -tried to make the most of them. She tried to smooth down the little -angularities of temper--she tried to develop the best traits in their -characters and to conceal their faults. It was a difficult task, and -nothing but the urgency of the case would have given her ladyship -courage. The Misses Dartelle had been for three years in society, and -all prospect of their settlement in life seemed remote. It was a serious -matter to Lady Dartelle. She did not care to pass through life with two -cross old maids hampering her every movement. - -Sir Aubrey had listened to his mother's complaints, and had laughingly -tried to comfort her. "I shall come down some time in February," he -said; "and I will bring some of the most eligible bachelors of my -acquaintance with me. If you make good use of the opportunity, you will -surely get one of the girls 'off.' I know how fatal country-house life -is to an idle man." - -The prospect was rather a poor one; still Lady Dartelle was not without -hope. - -The gentleman who was to win one of the Misses Dartelle was not to be -envied for the exceeding happiness of his lot. They treated the -governess with a mixture of haughty scorn and patronizing disdain which -at times even amused her. She was, as a rule, supremely indifferent, but -there were times when a sarcasm from one of the young ladies brought a -smile to her lips, for the simple reason that it was so very -inappropriate. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - - -Time passed on and Christmas came at last. By that time Hyacinth had -grown accustomed to her new home. Dr. Chalmers had been to see her, and -had professed himself delighted with the change in her appearance. She -did not regain all of her lost happiness, but she did regain some of her -lost health and strength. Though she had not a single hope left, and did -not value her life, the color slowly returned to her face and the light -to her eyes. The fresh sea-breeze, the regular daily exercise, the quiet -life, all tended to her improvement. She did not seem the same girl when -Christmas, with its snow and holly, came round. - -Hyacinth found wonderful comfort in the constant childish prattle and -numerous questions of little Clara; the regular routine of studies took -her thoughts in some measure from herself. She was obliged to rouse -herself; she could not brood over her sorrows to the exclusion of -everything else. She had thought her heart dead to all love, and yet at -Hulme Abbey she had learned to love two things with a passion of -affection--one was her little pupil; the other, the broad, open, -restless sea. How long her present mode of life was to last she did not -know--she had not asked herself; some day or other she supposed it would -end, and then she must go somewhere else to work. But it was certain she -would have to work on in quiet hiding till she died. It was not a very -cheerful prospect, but she had learned to look at it with resignation -and patience. - -"The end will come some day," she thought; "and perhaps in a better -world I shall see Adrian again." - -Adrian--he was still her only thought. When she was sitting at times, by -the sea-shore, with the child playing on the sands, she would utter his -name aloud for the sake of hearing its music. - -"Adrian," she would say; and a light that was wonderful to see would -come over the lovely face. "Adrian," the winds and waves would seem to -re-echo; and she would bend forward, the better, as she thought, to hear -the music of the name. - -"Mamma," said Veronica to Lady Dartelle one day, "I think you have done -a very foolish thing." - -"What is that, my dear?" asked the lady, quite accustomed to her -daughter's free criticism. - -"Why, to bring that girl here. Do you not see that she is growing -exceedingly beautiful? You do not give her enough to do." - -"I quite agree with Veronica, mamma," put in Mildred; "you have let your -usual judgment sleep." Lady Dartelle looked up in astonishment. - -"I assure you, my dears, that when I saw her first she did not look even -moderately pretty." - -"She has very much altered then," said Veronica. "When she came in with -Clara yesterday, I was quite astonished. I have never seen a color half -so lovely on any face before." - -"I hope," observed Mildred, "that you will keep to your resolution, and -not allow her to appear when we have visitors. You know how Aubrey -admires a pretty face. Remembering how many plain women there are in the -world, and how few pretty ones, it seems odd that you did not bring a -plain one here." - -A slight expression of alarm came over Lady Dartelle's face. - -"If you think there is any danger of that kind," she said, "I will send -her away at once. But I am of opinion that you exaggerate her good -looks. I see nothing so very noticeable about the girl. And you know I -shall never be able to secure another governess so thoroughly -accomplished on the same terms; that, of course, is a consideration." - -"You can please yourself, mamma," returned Veronica. "But I warn you -that, if you are not very careful, you will most bitterly repent having -a girl of that kind about the place when Aubrey comes home. You may do -your best to keep her out of the way; but, depend upon it, she will -contrive to be seen. Where there's a will there's a way." - -"I think you are alarming yourself unnecessarily, my dear Veronica," -said Lady Dartelle. - -"Am I, mamma? Then judge for yourself. I see the gleam of Clara's -scarlet cloak through the trees--they are just returning. Send for Miss -Holte; ask her some trifling question; and when she is gone tell me if -you have ever seen a more beautiful face." - -Lady Dartelle complied with her daughter's request and in a few minutes -"Miss Holte" and her little pupil entered the room. Lady Dartelle asked -Hyacinth some unimportant question, looking earnestly as she did so at -the lovely face. She owned to herself that she had had no idea how -perfectly beautiful it was; the faintest and most exquisite bloom -mantled it, the sweet eyes were bright, the lips like crimson flowers. - -"She must have been ill when I engaged her," thought her ladyship--"I -will ask her." Smiling most graciously, she said: "You are looking much -better, Miss Holte; the air of Hulme seems to agree with you. Had you -been ill when I saw you first?" - -The beautiful face flushed, and then grew pale. The young ladies looking -on were quick to note it. "Yes," she replied, quietly, "I had been very -ill for some weeks." - -"Indeed! I am glad to see you so fully restored;" and then a gracious -bow intimated to "Miss Holte" that the interview was at an end. - -"There, mamma," cried Mildred; "you see that we are perfectly right. You -must acknowledge that you have never seen any one more lovely." - -Lady Dartelle looked slightly bewildered. - -"To tell the truth, my dears," she said, "I have hardly noticed the -young girl lately. All that I can say is that I did not observe -anything so very pretty about her when I engaged her. I thought her very -pleasant-looking and graceful, but not beautiful." - -"I hope she is what she is represented," remarked Mildred; "but Mary -King says that she has all the ways of a grand lady, and that she does -not understand what I should have imagined every governess to be -familiar with." - -"My dear Mildred, you are saying too much. She is highly respectable--a -ward or _protegee_ of Mrs. Chalmers--the doctor would never have named -her to me if she had not been all that was irreproachable." - -"We will hope for the best; but I advise you again, mamma, to keep her -out of sight when our visitors come." - -Lady Dartelle smiled calmly--of the success of anything that she -undertook that far-seeing lady never doubted. It was the end of January -when Lady Dartelle received a letter from her son. - -"Here is good news, my dear children," she said, smiling. "Your brother -is coming; and he brings with him Lord Chandon and Major Elton. We shall -have a very pleasant time, I foresee." - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - - -February came in mild and clear, with a pleasant foretaste of spring. In -the woods the early violets were peeping out and the snow-drops were -bowing their white heads; the buds were beginning to form on the hedges -and trees, there was a faint song from the birds and silence reigned in -the woods, as though the goddess of spring were hovering over them. It -was Valentine's Day--in after-years Hyacinth remembered every incident -of it--Clara had complained of not feeling well, and they had gone out -into the woods--the governess and child. They sat down near a brook on -some moss-covered stones. The child was unconsciously a poet in her way. - -"Miss Holte," she said, suddenly, "do you never pity the flowers for -being obliged to hide so long in the dark cold earth? How they must be -longing for sunshine and for spring! It is just as though they were in -prison, and the sun is the good fairy that lets them out." - -Hyacinth made a point of never checking the child's thoughts; she -always allowed her to tell them freely as they came. - -"I think so much about the flowers," continued the little one; "it seems -to me that in some distant way they are related to the stars. I wonder -if they live as we do--if some are proud of their color, and some of -their fragrance--if they love and hate each other--if some are jealous, -and others contented; I should like to know." - -"The world is full of secrets," returned Hyacinth, musingly--"I cannot -tell. But, if flowers could have souls, I can imagine the kind of soul -that would belong to each flower." - -"So can I," cried the child, joyously. "Why is the world full of -secrets, Miss Holte? Men are so clever; why can they not find all the -secrets out?" - -"Ah, my darling," sighed the young girl, "the skill of man does not go -very far. It has mastered none of the great problems of life." - -They walked down to the shore and watched the waves rolling in; great -sheets of white foam spread over the sand, the chant of the sea seemed -on that day louder and more full of mystery than ever. - -"The salt breeze has blown away all my headache," said the child; "shall -we go home, Miss Holte? Mildred says this is Valentine's Day. I wonder -if it will bring anything pleasant to us. I wonder if it is a day we -shall remember." - -The young governess smiled sadly. - -"One day is very much like another," she said, little dreaming that this -was to be one of the most eventful of her life. - -"My lady wishes to see you, Miss Holte," said the footman to Hyacinth as -she entered the room; "she is in her own room." - -The young girl went thither at once. - -"I want to speak to you, Miss Holte," she said. "As I have already -mentioned, I always like sensible, straightforward dealings. My son, Sir -Aubrey Dartelle, comes home to-morrow and brings some visitors with -him." - -My lady was seated at her writing-table, the room was shaded by -rose-colored curtains, half drawn, and the young governess fortunately -did not stand where her face could be seen. - -"I have told you before that when we have visitors at the Abbey I shall -wish you and Miss Clara to keep to your own apartments; she is far too -young and too delicate to be brought forward in any way." - -"I will be careful to comply with your wishes, Lady Dartelle," replied -Hyacinth. - -"I am sure you will; I have always found you careful, Miss Holte. I wish -Clara to take her morning walk before the day's study begins; and, as we -do not breakfast until nearly ten, that will be more convenient. If she -requires to go out again, half an hour while we are at luncheon will -suffice. I do not know," continued the lady--"I am almost afraid that I -shall have to ask you to give up your room for a short time; if it -should be so, you can have the one next to Miss Clara--Lord Chandon, -Major Elton, and Sir Richard Hastings bring so many servants with them." - -Fortunately she did not see the ghastly change that came over that -beautiful face as she uttered the name of Lord Chandon; it was as though -some one had struck the girl a mortal blow. Her lips opened as though -she would cry out, but all sound died on them; a look of fear and dread, -almost of horror, came into the violet eyes. - -"If I see any necessity for the change," said her ladyship, "I will tell -King to attend to it." - -No words came from those white, rigid lips. Lady Dartelle never turned -her head but concluded, blandly: - -"That was what I wanted to speak to you about, Miss Holte." - -She evidently expected the young girl to go. But all strength had -departed from the delicate frame. Hyacinth was as incapable of movement -as she was of speech. At last, in a voice which Lady Dartelle scarcely -recognized, it was so harsh and hoarse, Hyacinth said: "I did not hear -plainly; what name did you mention, Lady Dartelle?" - -"My lady" was too much taken by surprise to reflect whether it was -compromising her dignity to reply. A rush of hope had restored the -girl's strength. She said to herself that she could not have heard -aright. - -"Lord Chandon, Major Elton, and Sir Richard Hastings," said Lady -Dartelle, stiffly. - -"Great heavens," groaned the girl to herself, "what shall I do?" - -"Did you speak, Miss Holte?" inquired the elder lady. - -"No," replied Hyacinth, stretching out her hand as though she were -blinded. - -Then Lady Dartelle took up her pen and began to write. This was a -signal of dismissal. Presently a sudden idea occurred to her. - -"I had almost forgotten to say that I should wish the rules I have -mentioned to be conformed to to-day. It is possible my son may arrive -this evening or to-morrow morning. Good morning, Miss Holte." - -One meeting Hyacinth would have thought she had been struck with sudden -blindness. She stumbled as she walked; with one hand outstretched she -touched the wall as she went along. It seemed to her that hours elapsed -before she reached her own room; but she found herself there at last. -Blind, dizzy, bewildered, unable to collect her thoughts, unable to cry -out, though her silence seemed to torture her, she fell on her knees -with a dull moan, and stretched out her hands as though asking help from -Heaven. How long she knelt there she never knew. Wave after wave of -anguish rolled over her soul--pain after pain, each bitter and keen as -death, pierced her heart. Then the great waves seemed to roll back, and -one thought stood clearly before her. - -He from whom she had fled in sorrowful dismay--he whom she loved more -dearly than her own life--he whose contempt and just disdain she had -incurred--was coming to Hulme Abbey. She said the words over and over -again to herself. "Adrian is coming--Heaven help and pity me, Adrian is -coming!" Great drops stood on her white brow, her whole body trembled as -a leaf trembles in the wind. - -A wild idea of escape came to her--she could run away--there was time -enough. Ah, now! they were coming perhaps to-night, and if Adrian heard -that some one had run away from the house, he would suspect who it was. -She wrung her hands like one helpless and hopeless. - -"What shall I do?" she cried. "Dear Heaven, have pity on me, for I have -suffered enough. What shall I do?" - -Another hope came to her. Perhaps, after all, her fears were groundless. -Lady Dartelle had said "Lord Chandon." It must be the old lord; she had -never heard or read of his death. Adrian was to be Lord Chandon some -day; but that day might be far distant yet. She would try to be patient -and see; she would try to control her quivering nerves. If it were -indeed Adrian, then she must be careful; all hope of escape was quite -useless; she must keep entirely to her room until he was gone. She tried -to quiet the trembling nerves, but the shock had been too great for -her. Her face was ghastly in its pallor and fear. Clara looked at her in -dismay. "I do not feel well," she said, in a trembling voice; "you shall -draw instead of read." - -She would have given anything to escape the ordeal of reading to the -young ladies. But it must be gone through; they made no allowances for -headaches. She found them as little disposed to receive as she was to -give a lesson. - -"Sit down, Miss Holte," said Veronica; "we will not attend to our French -just now; it's such nonsense of mamma to insist upon it! Would you mind -threading these beads? I want to make a purse." - -She placed a quantity of small gold and silver beads in the young girl's -hands, and then eagerly resumed her conversation with her sister. - -"I am the elder," she argued; "the first chance and the best chance -ought to be mine. I have set my heart on winning Lord Chandon, and I -shall think it very unkind of you to interfere." - -"You do not know whether he will be willing to be won," said Mildred, -sneeringly. - -"I can but try; you could do no more. I should like to be Lady Chandon, -Mildred. Of course I shall not be unsisterly. If I see that he prefers -you, I shall do all in my power to help you; but, if he shows no decided -preference, it will not be fair for you to interfere with me." - -"He may not like either of us," said Mildred, who enjoyed nothing so -much as irritating her sister. - -"I have an idea that he is to be won; I feel almost certain of it. Sir -Richard Hastings would be a good match, too; he is very wealthy and -handsome--and so, for that matter, is Major Elton." - -"What has that to do with it?" asked Mildred. "You have such confused -ideas, Veronica. What was that story mamma was telling you about Lord -Chandon?" - -"Some doleful romance--I did not listen attentively. I think she said he -was engaged, before his uncle's death, to marry some girl he was much -attached to, and she ran away. She did something or other horrible, and -then fled; I think that was it." - -"And does he wear the willow for her still?" asked Mildred. - -"I should say he has more sense. When girls do anything horrible, they -ought to die. Men never mourn long, you know." - -"But what did the girl do?" pursued Mildred. "Did she deceive him and -marry some one else--or what?" - -"I did not feel interested enough to listen," replied Veronica. "Mamma -seemed to imply everything most terrible; you must consult her if you -want to know the particulars. Aubrey says that a man's heart is often -caught at a rebound; and he seems to think that if we are kind and -sympathizing to Lord Chandon--smoothing his ruffled plumes, you -know--one of us cannot fail to win him." - -"How long will our visitors remain?" asked Mildred. - -"A month; and much may be done in a month, you know. What is that?" - -Well might she ask. First the gold and silver beads fell upon the floor; -and then the unhappy girl who held them, white and senseless, fell from -the seat, and lay like a crushed and broken lily on the ground. - -"Ring the bell," said Veronica; "she has fainted, I suppose. How -tiresome! I wonder how it is that governesses have such a propensity to -faint." - -"She looks like a beautiful statue; but if she takes to this kind of -thing, mamma will not find her so very useful after all. Here, King," to -the servant who entered, "Miss Holte has fainted; tend to her." - -And the two sisters swept from the room with the air of two very -superior beings indeed. They never dreamed of helping the unconscious -girl; such condescension would have been far too great. Mary King and a -fellow-servant carried Hyacinth to her room, and laid her on her bed. -Kindly hands ministered to her; she was respected and beloved by the -servants, who, quick to judge, pronounced her "a real lady"--much more -of a lady than the Misses Dartelle. So now in her distress they -ministered unto her. - -"If I might but die," she said, with a great tearless sob--"if I might -but die!" - -That she should be looked upon as so utterly lost--as having done -something so terrible--seemed worse to her than all. - -"I did right to leave them," she said, "and now I shall never look upon -them again. I did right to hide myself from the faces of all who knew -me. Adrian despises me. I cannot bear it." - -Her face burned and her heart beat wildly as she thought of Veronica's -insulting words and sneering tones. What she had done was too terrible -even for Lady Dartelle to speak of. How rightly she had judged that her -proper position was past for ever! How rightly she had decided that her -own deed had banished her forever from those whom she loved best! - -Lady Dartelle, with unusual consideration, had sent word that Miss Holte -was not to rise; so Hyacinth lay through the day in a stupor of fear and -dread, one longing in her heart, one prayer on her lips, and that was to -die. She lay trying to form feeble plans of escape, and breaking down -every now and then with a terrible cry. Dr. Chalmers had told her if she -wanted a friend to send for him; but if he came now, exposure must -follow. She was hopeless, helpless, bewildered. - -Then she began to think how heavily she had been punished for her sin. -Some girls ran away from their home, were married, and lived happily. -Why had so cruel a fate befallen her? She lay until evening, her brain -burning, her head aching, her whole body one throb of pain. A new fear -came to her: what if that terrible fever came back, robbing her of her -senses and reason? They would find out then that she was here in some -kind of disguise. It was night when she heard the sound of carriage -wheels; this was followed by a noise as of many arrivals. Her heart gave -one great bound, and then seemed to stand still. She did not know how -time passed until Mary King entered with a basin of soup. - -"They are all gone to dinner, miss," she said, "and cook has sent you -this." - -"Have the visitors arrived?" she asked. - -"Yes, miss; there seems to be quite a crowd of them. Try to take -this--it will do you good." - -She tried, but failed. Adrian was there under the same roof, and the -wonder was that her sorrow did not kill her. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - - -When Hyacinth rose the next morning, it was as though long years had -passed over her. Lady Dartelle was not unkind or ungrateful. She sent to -ask if Miss Holte was better and able to resume her work; she also -desired the housekeeper to see that the governess had all she required, -and then, thinking that she had done her duty, she forgot all about -her. - -Hyacinth resumed her work, but a burning thirst was upon her--a thirst -that could not be quenched. Adrian was near her, he was under the same -roof, breathing the same air, his eyes would rest on the same scenes, he -would speak every day to the same people. A fever that nothing could -cool seemed to run riot in her veins; her heart burned, her eyes were -hot and weary with watching--a thirst, a longing, a fever, a very -madness possessed her, and she could not control it. She must see him; -she must look upon his face, even should his glance slay her--for she -had loved him so dearly, and in all her lonely life she had never loved -any one else. As flowers thirst in the sultry heat for dew, as the tired -deer longs for cooling streams, so she craved for one glance at the face -that had made all the sunshine and brightness of earth for her. - -So she watched and waited. She promised herself this one short glimpse -of happiness. She would look on his face, giving full vent to all the -passionate love of her heart, and then welcome darkness, oblivion, and -death. - -Once, in crossing the upper corridor, the door of the billiard-room -suddenly opened, and she heard the sound of laughter and of many voices; -his was among them--clear, rich, distinct--the old musical tone that had -so often made her heart thrill. The sound of it smote her like a deadly -blow. She shrunk back, pale with the pallor of death, faint, trembling. - -"My love, my love," murmured the white lips. Hyacinth bent eagerly -forward--she would have given much to hear the sound again, but it had -ceased--the door was closed, and she went on to her room like one who -had stood outside the gates of an earthly paradise, yet knew that those -gates were never to be opened. - -Her recent experiences increased the fever of her longing--a fever that -soon began to show itself in her face. She became unwontedly lovely, her -beautiful violet eyes shone with a brilliancy and light almost painful -to see, the red lips were parted as the lips of one who suffers from -intensity of pain, the white hands grew burning hot; the fever of -longing was wearing her very life away, and she thought she could still -it by one look at his face. She might as well have tried to extinguish -flame by pouring oil upon it. At last the chance she had waited and -watched for came. Veronica sent to ask her to go to her room. - -"I want you to grant me a great favor," she said. "My maid is correct in -her ideas of dress, but she has no idea of flowers. I have some flowers -here, and knowing your great taste, I should be obliged to you if you -would arrange a spray for my hair." - -This speech was so unusually civil for Miss Dartelle that the young -governess was quite overpowered. - -"I will do it with pleasure," she replied. - -"I want it to be very nice," said Miss Dartelle, with a conscious smile -that was like a dagger in the girl's breast; "one of our visitors, Lord -Chandon, seems to have a mania for flowers. I had almost forgotten--are -there any white hyacinths among the collection?" - -"Yes," was the brief reply. - -"Do you think there are sufficient to form a nice spray, mixed with some -maiden-hair fern?" she asked. "I should be so pleased if you could -manage it." - -"I will try; but, Miss Dartelle, there are so many other beautiful -flowers here--why do you prefer the white hyacinths?" - -Her voice faltered as she uttered her name--a name she had never heard -since she fled from all that was dearest to her. Miss Dartelle, who -happened to be in the most gracious humors, smiled at the question. - -"I was talking to that same gentleman, Lord Chandon, yesterday, and I -happened to ask him what was his favorite flower. He said the white -hyacinth--oh, Miss Holte, what are you doing?" - -For the flowers were falling from the nerveless hand. How could he have -said that? Adrian used to call her his white Hyacinth. Had he not -forgotten her? What could he mean? - -"So you see, Miss Holte," continued Miss Dartelle, blandly, "that, as I -should like to please his lordship, I shall wear his favorite flowers." - -Yes, she saw plainly enough. She remembered one of those happy days at -Bergheim when she too had worn some fresh, fragrant hyacinths to please -him; and she remembered how he had caressed her, and what loving words -he had murmured to her--how he had told her that she was fairer in his -eyes than any flower that had ever bloomed--how he had taken one of the -hyacinths from her, and, looking at it, had said: "You were rightly -named, my love. You are a stately, fair, fragrant hyacinth indeed." - -Now--oh, bitter irony of fate!--now she was to make another beautiful -with these same flowers, in order to charm him. - -She was dead to him and to all the bright past; yet at the very thought -of his loving another she grew faint with anguish that had no name. She -went to the window and opened it to admit the fresh, cool air; and then -the opportunity she had waited and longed for came. It was a bright, -clear morning, the sun was shining, and the promise of spring filled the -air. She did not think of seeing Adrian then; but the window overlooked -the grove of chestnut trees, and he was walking serenely underneath -them. - -She sunk on her knees, her eyes were riveted on his face with deepest -intensity. It was he--Heaven bless him!--looking graver, older, and more -careworn, but still the same brave, handsome, noble man. Those were the -true, clear eyes that had looked so lovingly into her own; those were -the lips, so firm, so grave, so kind, that had kissed hers and told her -how dear she was to him; those were the hands that had clasped her own. - -Shine on him, blessed sun; whisper round him, sweet wind; for there is -none like him--none. She envied the sun that shone on him, the breeze -that kissed his face. She stretched out her hands to him. "My love," she -cried--"my dear lost love!" Her wistful longing eyes followed him. - -This was the one glance that was to cool the fever preying upon her; -this was to be her last look on earth at him--and the chestnut grove was -not long--he had passed half through it already. Soon--oh, so soon--he -would pass out of her sight forever. Suddenly he stood still and looked -down the long forest glade; he passed his hand over his brow, as though -to drive away some saddening thought, and her longing eyes never left -him. She thanked Heaven for that minute's respite, and drank in the -grave manly beauty of his face with eyes that were pitiful to see. - -"My love," she murmured, in a low hoarse voice, "if I might but die -looking at you." - -Slowly the large burning tears gathered in the sorrowful eyes, and sob -after sob rose to the quivering lips: it seemed to her that, kneeling -there with outstretched hands, she was weeping her life away; and then -he began to walk again, and had almost passed out of her sight. - -She held out her hands to him with weeping eyes. - -"Adrian," she called, "good-by, my love, good-by!" - -And he, all unconscious of the eyes that were bent upon him, turned -away, while the darkness and desolation of death fell over the girl who -loved him so dearly. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - - -Hyacinth had looked upon Adrian. In her simplicity she had believed that -with that one look all her fever of pain would vanish. Had it been so? -Three days since she had stood in Miss Dartelle's room and watched him -from the window; and now she looked like one consumed by some hidden -fire. In that great busy household no one noticed her, or possibly -remarks would have been made. There was a brilliant flush on the -beautiful face, the light in her eyes was unnaturally bright, no lips -were ever more crimson. She had slept but little. She had spent the -nights in pacing her room, doing battle with her sorrow and her love; -she had spent the days in fighting against the physical weakness that -threatened to overwhelm her. - -"It would have been better," she owned to herself in a passion of -despair, "never to have seen him. That one look upon his face has made -me more wretched than ever." - -"It is all my own fault," she would say again--"all my own fault--no one -is in the least degree to blame but myself. I have brought it all upon -myself. If I had been content with my home--satisfied with the gifts -Heaven had given me--if I had refused to listen to Claude's -suggestions--if I had been true to my teachings and true to myself, all -this would never have happened--I should have been Adrian's wife. There -is no one--no one to blame but myself. I have shipwrecked my own -happiness, and all I suffer is just punishment." - -Like a vision sent purposely to torture her, there came before her a -picture of what might have been but for her folly in consenting to meet -Claude. By this time she would have been Adrian's wife, living with him -in that grand old house he had described to her, loving and beloved, -going sometimes to see Lady Vaughan, and brightening the fair old face -by the sight of her own great happiness. All this was impossible now -because she had been guilty of a terrible folly. It was all at an end. -She had to live her own dreary life, and never while the sun shone or -the flowers bloomed would the faintest ray of happiness reach her. What -Lady Dartelle had foreseen came to pass. She had so many guests to -accommodate that she was obliged to ask Miss Holte to give up her large -airy room and take a smaller one on the floor above. - -"I hope it will not inconvenience you," said her ladyship. "It will not -be for long; we are all going to London in May." - -The young governess appeared quite unconcerned, and Lady Dartelle felt -more pleased with her than ever. - -The window of Hyacinth's new apartment looked upon the rose-garden; and -at the end of the rose-garden there ran a long path, where the gentlemen -visitors were accustomed to smoke their cigars. - -One morning Miss Dartelle, with a smiling face, entered the school-room -where the young governess and her little pupil sat. She bowed graciously -to "Miss Holte" and kissed Clara. - -"We are all alone to-day," she said. "Our visitors have gone over to -Broughton Park. Mamma thinks Clara may have a holiday." - -The child did not look so pleased as the elder sister expected. - -"And Miss Holte," continued the young lady, "I want to ask you -something. You sketch very beautifully, I know. I have seen some of your -drawings, they are exceedingly good." This was a preamble that meant -work of some kind. "Have you noticed that very remarkable tree in the -park, called 'The King's Oak?' It is a large spreading tree, with an -enormous trunk overgrown with ivy, and huge overhanging boughs." - -"Yes," was the quiet reply, "I know it very well." - -"Lord Chandon has asked me to sketch it for him, Miss Holte. It appears -that he is as fond of trees as he is of flowers. I draw very well, but I -should like the sketch to be something better than I can do. Will you -help me, please?" - -"Certainly--if you wish it;" and Hyacinth smiled in bitter scorn. "If he -had asked me for a sketch," she thought, "no other fingers should have -touched it." - -"I thought," resumed Miss Dartelle, "that, as the gentlemen are all away -to-day, we might spend a few hours over it." - -"If you will put on your hat," said Miss Holte, "I will be ready in a -few minutes." - -Both sisters appeared presently, and they were unusually gracious to -Miss Holte. After a pleasant walk they came in sight of the grand old -forest-giant. A servant had followed them, bearing camp-stools and all -the necessaries for sketching. - -"Will you make a sketch of the tree, please, Miss Holte? And, as I must -do something toward it, I will work at the minor details." - -Hyacinth sat down at some little distance from the tree and began her -task. The morning was bright and almost warm. The sisters at times sat -and watched her progress, at others, walked up and down. They conversed -before her as unconcernedly as though she had been one of the branches -of the oak-tree, and their conversation was all about Lord Chandon. -Hyacinth could not hear all they said, but it was evident that Veronica -Dartelle was in the highest spirit, and felt sure of her conquest. - -Tired of walking, they sat down at last close to Hyacinth, and Miss -Dartelle, turning to her sister, said: - -"You have no idea how he has altered since he has been here; he was so -dull, so reserved, so gloomy at first--now he talks quite freely to me." - -"He does not seem to say anything to the purpose," sneered Mildred. - -"But he will in time, you will see, Milly. If he could only forget that -horrid girl!" - -"What 'horrid girl?'" asked Mildred, with some curiosity. - -"The girl he used to like--the one who did something or other -discreditable. Aubrey told mamma she was a heroine, and one of the -truest and noblest girls that ever lived. When Lord Chandon spoke of her -to Aubrey, the tears were in his eyes. The girl gave some evidence at a -trial, it seems, which saved somebody's life, but lost her home, her -friends, and her lover; and has never been seen since." - -"She must have been a great simpleton," said Mildred, contemptuously. - -"What would you have done in her place?" asked Veronica. - -"I should have let the man die," replied her sister. "Self-preservation -is the first law of nature. I would not have lost my home, friends, -character, lover, and, above all, the chance of being Lady Chandon of -Chandon Court, to save the life of any man;" and Mildred Dartelle -laughed at the notion of such heroism. - -"This girl did. Aubrey says that when Lord Chandon speaks of her it is -as though she had done something no other woman could do. All the men -are the same. Major Elton said he would give his right hand to see her. -What nonsense!" - -"Then does Lord Chandon care for her still?" asked Mildred. - -"Not as a lover, I should imagine. He affects the greatest admiration -for her, and talks of her incessantly; but I should not think he would -ever marry a girl who had compromised herself--besides, he cannot find -her. She disappeared after the trial, and the general impression seems -to be that she is dead. I will teach him to forget her. You shall come -to Chandon Court when I am mistress there, and perhaps we may find a -rich husband for you." - -"Many thanks," returned Mildred; "perhaps I may find one before you do. -Who knows? If Lord Chandon has been so much in love, I do not see how -you can hope that he will ever care for you." - -"We shall see. Time works wonders." - -And then Veronica stood up and looked over the governess's shoulders. -"This is beautifully done," she said; "but you have not done much--and -how your fingers tremble! How pale you are too! Surely you are not ill -again, Miss Holte?" she added, impatiently. - -"I am quite well," answered Hyacinth, coldly; and then with an iron will -she put back the surging thoughts and memories that were gradually -overcoming her. "I will think when I am alone," she said to -herself--"now I must work." And work she did--so well that in a short -time the sketch was almost completed. Presently Veronica came up to her -again, and took the pencil from her hands. - -"I must do a little," she said; and she finished some of the shading, -and then signed her initials in the corner--"V. D."--and laughed as she -did so. - -"If Lord Chandon praises the sketch, Miss Holte," she said, "I will -repeat his compliments to you. He cannot help being pleased with it, it -is so beautifully done. You are a true artist." - -"I am glad that you are pleased with it," Hyacinth replied. - -And then she began to wonder. She had often been out sketching with -Adrian, and he had given her many valuable hints. Would he recognize her -pencil? Would it be possible? And then she laughed to herself, and said -it was only an idle fear--only her nervous imagination that troubled -her. - -If what they said was true--and they had no motive for speaking -falsely--Adrian did not hate her--he did not even despise her. He had -called her true and brave; he had spoken of her with admiration and -with tears in his eyes. Ah, thank Heaven for that! Her heart had almost -withered believing in his contempt. She knew his estimation of women to -be so high that she had not believed it possible he could do anything -but hate her. Yet he did not hate her. Tears such as she had not shed -since her troubles fell like rain from her eyes--tears that cooled the -cruel fever, that were like healing drops. It seemed as though one-half -her sorrow had vanished--Adrian did not hate her. - -Life would be a thousand times easier now. She felt that no greater -happiness could have been bestowed upon her than to know that he thought -well of her. Of course, as Miss Dartelle said, he could never marry -her--she had compromised herself. The old sweet tie between them could -never be renewed. Less than ever now could she bear the thought of -meeting him; but the sharpest sting of her pain was gone--he did not -hate her. - -She was still dead to him, but how much lighter the load was to her. His -hatred and contempt had weighed her to the very earth--had bowed her -beautiful head in unutterable shame. That was all gone now; he knew the -worst there was to know of her, and yet he had called her brave and -true. He had mourned for her, he liked to talk about her, and they all -believed her dead. - -"So I am, my darling," she sobbed; "I would not make myself known for -all the world. In time you will forget me and learn to be happy with -some one else. I would not be so selfish as to let you know that I am -living. He will love me dead--he will forget all my errors, and remember -only that I cared for him so much more than any one can care. I little -thought, a few weeks since, that so much happiness was in store for me. -I have looked upon his face again; and I know that he speaks kindly of -me. I shall never see him more, but my life will be brighter." - -The rest of that day passed like a tranquil dream; a deep sweet calm had -fallen over her, the hot flush dried from her face, her eyes lost their -unnatural brilliancy. Little Clara, looking at her governess, said: - -"How beautiful you are, Miss Holte! You look as though you had been -talking to angels." - -"So I have," she replied; "the angels of comfort and peace." - -That night Hyacinth slept, and when she stood before her glass the next -morning so much of her beauty had been restored to her that she blushed -as she looked at herself. On this eventful morning Clara was not well. - -"Let us go down to the shore," she begged; "I cannot learn any lesson or -do anything until we have been there." - -The young governess complied with the child's wish. It was not nine -o'clock when they left the house. - -"The sea is rough this morning," said Clara. "Do you hear how hollow the -sound of the waves is? I like high waves--they are all foam." - -They hurried down to the shore. The waves ran high; they broke on the -sands in great sheets of foam; they seemed to be contesting with each -other which should be highest and which should be swiftest. - -"I am sure they are playing, Miss Holte," cried the child, clapping her -hands for joy. "Let us sit down and watch them." - -"I am afraid it is too cold for you to sit down; I must wrap you in my -shawl and hold you in my arms, Clara." - -So they sat, the child crying out with delight when one wave higher than -the others broke at their feet. The fresh salt breeze brought a lovely -color into Hyacinth's face, and there were peace and serenity in the -depths of her beautiful eyes. Governess and pupil were suddenly startled -by seeing a gentleman hastening to them across the sands. The child -sprung from the gentle arms that encircled her. - -"It is my brother," she cried, "my brother Aubrey!" - -The gentleman caught the little figure in his arms. - -"I thought it was a mermaid, Clara--upon my word I did. What are you -doing here?" - -"We came to watch the waves--Miss Holte and I both love the waves." - -Sir Aubrey looked round, and with some difficulty repressed a cry of -astonishment as his eyes fell upon Hyacinth's lovely face. He raised his -hat and turned to his little sister. "You must introduce me, Clara," he -said. The child smiled. - -"I do not know how to introduce people," she returned, with a happy -little laugh. "Miss Holte, this is my big brother, Aubrey--Aubrey, this -is Miss Holte, and I love her with all my heart." - -They both laughed at the quaint introduction. - -"This is charming, Clara. Now, may I stay for a few minutes and watch -the waves with you?" - -"You must ask Miss Holte," said the child. - -"Miss Holte, will you give me the required permission?" he inquired. - -"You must ask Lady Dartelle, Sir Aubrey," she replied, "we are supposed -to take our walks by ourselves." - -The blush and the smile made her so attractive that without another word -Sir Aubrey sat down by her side. He was careful to keep Clara in his -arms lest Miss Holte should take her by the hand and retire. "How is it, -Miss Holte," he said, "that I have not had the pleasure of seeing you -before?" - -"I do not know," she replied, "unless it is because my duties have never -brought me into the part of the house where you, Sir Aubrey, happened to -be." - -"I knew Clara had a governess but I did not know--" that she was young -and beautiful, he was about to add; but one look at the lovely face -checked the words on his lips. "I did not know anything more," he said. -"Are you in the habit of coming to the shore every morning?" - -"Yes," said Clara, "we love the waves." - -"I wish I were a wave," said Sir Aubrey, laughingly. - -The child looked up at him with great solemn eyes. "Why, brother?" she -asked. - -"Because then you would love me." - -"I love you now," said Clara, clasping her arms around his neck and -kissing his face. - -"You are a dear, loving little child," he said, and his voice was so -sincere that Miss Holte forgot her shyness and looked at him. - -He was a tall, stately gentleman; not handsome, but with a face of -decision and truth. He had frank, clear eyes, a good mouth, with kindly -lines about it, a quantity of clustering hair, and a brown beard. It was -a true, good face, and the young governess liked him at once. Nothing in -his appearance, however, caused her to take such a deep interest in him, -but solely the fact that he was Adrian's friend. - -Perhaps even that very morning he had been conversing with Adrian--had, -perhaps touched his hand. She knew for certain that Adrian had spoken to -him of her. Her beautiful eyes lingered on his face as though she would -fain read all his thoughts. On his part, Sir Aubrey Dartelle was charmed -with the young governess. He said to himself that he had never seen any -one half so fair, half so lovely; and he vowed to himself that it should -not be his fault if he did not meet her again. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - - -Sir Aubrey Dartelle did not forget that interview; the beautiful face of -the young governess haunted him. He went to the sea-shore in the hope of -meeting her, but she was prudent and did not go thither. She knew Lady -Dartelle's wish that she should not meet any of her visitors--above all, -her son. Indeed, when the young girl thought of all that might arise -from even that interview, she became frightened. - -Those words of Veronica's were always present to her--"he cannot marry -her because she has compromised herself." She would not have Adrian see -her in this, her fallen and altered state, for the whole world. More -than ever she wished to hide herself under the mantle of obscurity. He -believed her dead; and, in her noble, self-sacrificing love, she said it -was better it should be so. Suppose that Sir Aubrey should say something -to Lord Chandon about her, and he should ask to see her? She must be -prudent, and not let Sir Aubrey see her again. So the baronet walked -disconsolately along the shore; but the lovely face he had seen there -once was not to be met again. He determined that he would see her. She -evidently loved Clara, and Clara loved her. It was plain, too, that they -spent all their time together. Consequently, wherever Clara went, she -would go. He would propose to take the child over to Broughton Park, -under the pretext of showing her the beautiful swans there. Most -certainly if the child went, the governess would go. - -He was absorbed in his plan. Walking one morning with Lord Chandon, he -was so long silent that his companion looked into his face with a smile. - -"What are you thinking about, Aubrey?" he asked. "I have never seen you -so meditative before." - -The baronet laughed in his gay, careless fashion. - -"I have never had the same cause," he said. "I have seen a face that -haunts me, and I cannot forget it." - -One of the peculiarities of Lord Chandon was that he never laughed after -the fashion of many men, and never jested about _affaires du coeur_. -There was no answering smile on his face, and he said kindly: "There is -no cure for that; I know what it is to be haunted through long days and -longer nights by one fair face." - -"My mother has such a lovely governess," said Sir Aubrey confidingly. "I -have never seen a face so beautiful. It seems to me that they keep her a -close prisoner, and I am quite determined to see her again." - -"Of what use will that be?" inquired Lord Chandon. "Her face haunts you -now, you say; the chances are that if you see her again it will trouble -you still more. You cannot marry her; why fall in love with her?" - -"I have not fallen in love with her yet," said Sir Aubrey; "but I shall -if I see much more of her. As for marrying her, I do not see why I -should not. She is fair, graceful, and lovely." - -"Still, perhaps, she is not the kind of lady you should marry. Let the -little child's governess remain in peace, Aubrey. Straight ways are the -best ways." - -"You are a good fellow," returned the young baronet, easily touched by -good advice. "I should like to see you happier, Adrian." - -"I shall live my life," said Lord Chandon--and his voice was full of -pathos--"do my duty, and die like a Christian, I hope; but my earthly -happiness died when I lost my love." - -"That was a sad affair," remarked Sir Aubrey. - -"Yes; we will not discuss it. I only mention it to warn you as to -admitting the love of any woman into your heart, for you can never drive -it away again." - -That day, after the gentlemen had entered the drawing-room, Sir Aubrey -went up to Lady Dartelle. She was both proud and fond of her handsome -son, who as a rule could do pretty much as he liked with her. - -"Mother," he said, "why does not little Clara come down sometimes?" - -"She can come, my dear Aubrey, whenever you wish," was the smiling -reply. - -"And her governess--what has she done that she is never asked to play -and sing?" - -At the mention of the word "governess" Lady Dartelle became suspicious. -"He has seen her," she thought, "and has found out how pretty she is." - -"One of our arrangements," she said aloud, "was that Clara's governess -was not to be asked into the drawing-room when we had visitors." - -"Why not?" inquired the baronet, carelessly. - -"My dear boy, it would not be prudent; and it would displease your -sisters very much, and perhaps interfere with their plans and wishes." - -"Being a very pretty--nay, a most lovely girl, she is to be punished for -her beauty, then, by being shut out of all society?" - -"How do you know she is beautiful?" asked Lady Dartelle. "Do not speak -too loudly, my dear; your sisters may hear you." - -"I saw her the other morning on the shore, and I tell you honestly, -mother, I think her the most beautiful girl I have ever seen; and she is -as good as she is beautiful." - -"How do you know that?" asked Lady Dartelle a little anxiously. - -"Because she told me quite frankly that you did not wish her to be in -the way of visitors, and because she has kept out of my way ever since." - -"She is a prudent girl," said Lady Dartelle. "Aubrey, my dear, I know -how weak young men are in the matter of beauty. Do not try to get up a -flirtation with her. Your sisters do not like her very much; and if -there should be anything of what I have mentioned, I shall be obliged to -send her away at once. Your own good sense will tell you that." - -"My sisters are--what are they?" returned Sir Aubrey, indignantly; "all -women are jealous of each other, I suppose." - -"Aubrey," said Lady Dartelle, thinking it advisable to change the -subject of conversation, "tell me whether you think either Veronica or -Mildred has any chance of succeeding with Lord Chandon?" - -"Not the least in the world, I should say," he replied, "I fancied when -he came down that he would take a little consolation; now I know there -is not the least chance." - -"Why not?" inquired his mother. - -"Because of his love for that brave girl, Miss Vaughan, he will never -care for any one else while he lives." - -Lady Dartelle's face fell considerably. - -"I thought he fancied her dead," she observed. - -"So he does; and so she must be; or, with all the search that has been -made for her, she would have been found." - -"But, Aubrey, if she were living, and he did find her, do you really -think that he would marry her?" - -"Indeed he would, mother. Were she alive he would marry her to-morrow, -if he could." - -"After that terrible _expose_?" cried Lady Dartelle. - -"There was nothing terrible in it," he opposed. "The worst thing the -girl did was to half-elope with one of the best _partis_ in England. If -she had completed the elopement, every one would have admired her, and -she would have been received at once amongst the spotless band of -English matrons. The very truth and sincerity with which the girl told -her story ennobled her in the eyes of every sensible person." - -"Well," said Lady Dartelle, with a sigh, "if you really think, my dear, -that there is no chance of his liking either of the girls, I should not -ask him to prolong his visit." Lady Dartelle hardly liked the hearty -laughter with which her son received her words. - -"I will remember, mother," he said. "Will it console you to know that -Sir Richard told me yesterday that he never saw such a perfectly-shaped -hand as Mildred's?" - -"Did he? Mildred likes him, I think. It would be such a comfort to me, -Aubrey, if one or the other were married." - -"While there's life there's hope. Here comes Major Elton to remind me of -my engagement to play a billiard match. Good-night, mother." - -But after a few days the good-natured baronet returned to the charge, -and begged hard that Clara might be allowed to go to Broughton Park to -see the swans. He thought, as a matter of course, that the governess -would go with her, but, to make sure, he added: "Be good-natured for -once, mother, and let the governess go. I promise neither to speak to -her nor to look at her." - -But the next morning when the carriage came round, and little Clara, -flushed with excitement, took her seat by Lady Dartelle's side, Sir -Aubrey looked in vain for the lovely face and graceful figure. He went -to the side of the carriage. - -"Mother," he said in a low voice, "where is Miss--I do not even know her -name--the governess?" - -"My dear Aubrey," replied Lady Dartelle, "the governess is fortunately a -very sensible young woman, and when I mentioned the matter to her, she -positively and resolutely declined to come. I quite approve of her -resolution. I have no doubt that she will greatly enjoy a day to -herself." - -They little dreamed what this day was to bring forth. They were to lunch -and dine at Broughton Park, and then drive home in the evening. Veronica -was in the highest spirits, for Lord Chandon, declining to ride, had -taken his seat in the carriage. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - - -"A day to myself," said the young governess, as she heard the carriage -drive away. "I have not been alone for so long, and I have so much to -think of." - -A great silence had fallen over the house; there was no sound of -laughing voices, no busy tread of feet, no murmur of conversation; the -silence seemed strange after the late gayety and noise. At first a great -temptation came over her to roam through the rooms and seek out the -traces of Adrian's presence. She might see the books he had been -reading, the papers he had touched. She remembered how precious at -Bergheim everything seemed to her that he had ever used. It was a great -temptation, but she resisted it. She would not disturb the calm that had -fallen on her. - -"It is of no use," she said to herself, "to open my old wounds. I will -go out, and then, if the temptation comes to me again, I cannot yield to -it. I will go down to the shore and read; there is no one to interrupt -me to-day." - -She found a volume that pleased her; and then, book in hand, she walked -through the woods and down to the shore, where the restless waves were -chanting their grand old anthem. It was only the middle of April, but -the day was warm and bright; the sun shone on the blue heaving sea. She -sat down under the shelter of a huge bowlder and opened her book, but -the beautiful eyes soon wandered from the printed pages; a fairer and -far more wonderful volume lay open before her. The place where she sat -was so retired and solitary that it seemed as though she were alone in -the world. She gave herself up entirely to thought. Past and present -were all mingled in one long dream. - -It was too delightful to be alone, the luxury was so great. She gave a -sigh of unutterable relief. Presently the hat she wore incommoded her; -she took it off and laid it on the sands. In removing it she disarranged -the brown plaits which Mrs. Chalmers had thought such a success. With -impatient fingers she removed them, and the graceful head appeared in -all its beauty of clustering hair--golden waves of indescribable -loveliness. She laughed as the wind played among them. - -"I am my own self again," she said; "and I may be myself for a few -minutes without any one seeing me." - -The wind that stirred the clustering hair had brightened her eyes and -brought the most exquisite bloom to her face. - -She began to think of Adrian, and forgot all about the brown plaits; she -was living over and over again those happy days at Bergheim. She was -recalling his looks and words, every one of which was impressed on her -heart. She had forgotten even where she was; the song of the sea had -lulled her into a half-waking dream; she forgot that she was sitting -there--forgot the whole world--all save Adrian--when she was suddenly -startled by a shadow falling between herself and the sunshine, while a -voice, half frightened, half wondering, cried out, in tones she never -forgot: - -"Miss Vaughan!" - -With a low cry she rose from her seat and stood with blanched lips; a -great dark mist came before her eyes; for one terrible moment it seemed -to her that the waters and the sky had met. Then she steadied herself -and looked into the face of the man who had uttered her name. - -She recognized him; it was Gustave, the favorite valet and confidential -servant of Lord Chandon. She clasped her hands with a low moan, while he -cried again, in a wondering, frightened voice--"Miss Vaughan!" He looked -at her, a strange fear dilating his eyes. - -"I am Hyacinth Vaughan," she said, in a low hoarse voice. - -The next moment he had taken off his hat, and stood bareheaded before -her. "Miss Vaughan," he stammered, "we--we thought you dead." - -"So I am," she cried passionately--"I am dead in life! You must not -betray me, Gustave. For Heaven's sake, promise not to tell that you have -seen me!" - -The man looked anxious and agitated. - -"I cannot, miss," he replied--"I dare not keep such a secret from my -lord." - -She stepped back with a moaning cry and white lips. She wrung her hands -like one who has no hope, no help. - -"What shall I do?" she cried. "Oh, Heaven take pity upon me, and tell me -what to do!" - -"If you knew, miss," said the man, "what my lord has suffered you would -not ask me to keep such a secret from him. I do not think he has ever -smiled since you went away. He is worn to a shadow--he has spent a -fortune in trying to find you. I know that night and day he knows no -peace, no hope, no comfort, no happiness, because he has lost you. I -love my lord--I would lay down my life to serve him." - -"You do not know all," she cried. - -"I beg your pardon, miss," he returned, sturdily. "I do know all; and I -know that my lord would give all he has on earth to find you--he would -give the last drop of blood in his heart, the last shilling in his -purse. How could I be a faithful servant to him, and see him worn, -wretched, and miserable under my very eyes, while I kept from him that -which would make him happy?" - -"You are wrong," she said, with dignity. "It would not add to your -master's happiness to know that I am living; rather the contrary. -Believing me dead, he will in time recover his spirits; he will forget -me and marry some one who will be far better suited to him than I could -ever be. Oh, believe me--believe I know best! You will only add to his -distress, not relieve it." - -But the man shook his head doubtfully. - -"You are mistaken, Miss Vaughan," he said. "If you had seen my master's -distress, you would know that life is no life to him without you." - -A sudden passion of despair seemed to seize her. - -"I have asked you not to betray me," she said. "Now I warn you that if -you do, I will never forgive you; and I tell you that you will cause -even greater misery than now exists. I am dead to Lord Chandon and to -all my past life. I tell you plainly that if you say one word to your -master, I will go away to the uttermost ends of the earth, where no one -shall recognize me. Be persuaded--do not--as you are a man yourself--do -not drive a helpless, suffering woman to despair. My fate is hard -enough--do not render it any harder. I have enough to bear--do not add -to my burden." - -"Upon my word, Miss Vaughan," returned the man irresolutely, "I do not -know what to do." - -"You can think the matter over," she said. "Meanwhile, Gustave, grant me -one favor--promise me that you will not tell Lord Chandon without first -warning me." - -"I will promise that," he agreed. - -"Thanks," said Hyacinth, gratefully, to whom even this concession was a -great deal. "I shall not, perhaps, be able to see you again, Gustave; -but you can write to me and tell me what you have decided on doing." - -"I will, Miss Vaughan," he assented. - -"And pray be careful that my name does not pass your lips. I am known as -Miss Holte here." - -With a low bow the man walked away; and they were both unconscious that -the angry eyes of a jealous woman had been upon them. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - - -Kate Mansfield, Miss Dartelle's maid, had taken, as she expressed it, "a -great fancy" to Gustave. She was a pretty, quick, bright-eyed girl, not -at all accustomed to giving her smiles in vain. Gustave--who had been -with Lord Chandon for many years--was handsome too in his way. He had an -intelligent face, eyes that were bright and full of expression, and a -somewhat mocking smile, which added, in Kate's mind, considerable to his -charms. He had certainly appeared very attentive to her; and up to the -present Kate had felt pretty sure of her conquest. She heard Gustave -say, as his master was out for the day, he should have a long ramble on -the seashore; and the pretty maid, having put on her most becoming -bonnet, made some pretext for going to the shore at the same time. She -quite expected to meet him, "And then," as she said to herself, with a -smile, "the seaside is a romantic place. And who knows what may happen?" - -But when Kate had reached the shore, and her bright eyes had wandered -over the sands she saw no Gustave. "He has altered his mind," she -thought, "and has gone elsewhere." - -She walked on, somewhat disappointed, but feeling sure that she should -meet him before she returned home. Presently her attention was attracted -by the sound of a man's voice, and, looking round a bowlder, she saw -Gustave in deep conversation with the governess, Miss Holte. - -Kate was already jealous of Miss Holte--jealous of her beauty and of the -favor with which Lady Dartelle regarded her. - -"I do hate governesses!" Kate was wont to observe to her friends in the -kitchen. "I can do with the airs and graces of real ladies--they seem -natural--but I cannot endure governesses; they always seem to me neither -the one thing nor the other." - -Then a sharp battle of words would ensue with Mary King, who was devoted -to the young governess. - -"You may say what you like, Kate, but I tell you Miss Holte is a lady. I -know one when I see one." - -And now the jealous eyes of Kate Mansfield dwelt with fierce anger on -Hyacinth. - -"Call her a lady!" she said to herself sneeringly. "Ladies do not talk -to servants in that fashion. Why, she clasps hands as though she were -begging and praying him about something! I will say nothing now, but I -will tell Miss Dartelle; she will see about it." And Kate went home in -what she called a "temper." - -Gustave walked away full of thought. He would certainly act honorably -toward Miss Vaughan--would give her fair warning before he said anything -to Lord Chandon. Perhaps, after all, she knew best. It might be better -that his master should know nothing of her being there; it was just -possible that there were circumstances in the case of which he knew -nothing, and there was some rumor in the servant's hall about his master -and Miss Dartelle. Doubtless it would be wise to accede to Miss -Vaughan's request and say nothing. - -But during the remainder of that day Gustave was so silent, so -preoccupied, that his fellow-servants were puzzled to discover the -reason. He did not even take notice of Kate's anger. He spoke to her, -and did not observe that she was disinclined to answer; nor did he seem -to understand her numerous allusions to "underhand people" and "cunning -ways." - -"I almost think," said Gustave to himself, "that I will send Miss -Vaughan three lines to say that I have decided not to mention anything -about her; she looked so imploringly at me, I had better not interfere." - -Of all the blows that could have fallen on the hapless girl, she least -expected this. She had feared to meet Lord Chandon, and had most -carefully kept out of his way; she had avoided Sir Aubrey lest any -chance word of his should awaken Adrian's curiosity. She had taken every -possible precaution, but she had never given one thought to Gustave. She -remembered now having heard Lady Vaughan say how faithful he was, and -how highly Adrian valued his services--how Gustave had never had any -other master, and how he spared no pains to please him. - -And now suddenly he had become the chief person in her world. Her -fate--nay, her life--lay in his hands--honest hands they were, she knew, -and could rely implicitly on his word. - -He would give her fair warning. "And when I get the warning," she said -to herself, "I shall go far away from England. No place is safe here. -For I would not drag him down--my noble, princely Adrian, who has -searched for me, sorrowed for me, and who loves me still. I would not -let him link his noble life with mine; the name that he bears must not -be sullied by me. It shall not be said of the noblest of his race that -he married a girl who had compromised herself. People shall not point to -his wife and say, 'She was the girl who was talked about in the murder -case.' Ah, no, my darling, I will save you from yourself--I will save -you from the degradation of marrying me!" - -She spent the remainder of the day--her holiday--in forming plans for -going abroad. It was not safe for her to remain in England; at some time -or other she must be inevitably discovered. It would be far better to go -abroad--to leave England and go to some distant land--where no one would -know her. She had one friend who could help her in her new decision. Her -heart turned gratefully to Dr. Chalmers. Heaven bless him--he would not -fail her. - -She must tell him that she was not happy--that a great danger threatened -her; and she must ask him to help her to procure some situation abroad. -Nor would she delay--she would write that very day, and ask him to begin -to make inquiries at once. Soon all danger would be over, and she would -be in peace. The long day passed all too quickly, she was so busy with -her plans. It was late in the evening when she heard the carriage -return, and soon afterward she knew that Adrian was once more under the -same roof. - -Veronica Dartelle was not in the most sunny of tempers. She had spent a -long day with Lord Chandon, yet during the whole of it he had not said a -word that gave her the least hope of his ultimately caring for her, -while she liked him better and better every day. She wondered if that -"tiresome girl" was really the cause of his indifference, or if there -was any one else he liked better. - -"Perhaps," she thought to herself, "I have not beauty enough to please -him. I hear that this girl he loved was very lovely." - -An aversion to all beautiful girls and fair women entered her mind and -remained there. She was tired--and that did not make her more amiable; -so, when Kate Mansfield came in with her story, Veronica was in the -worst possible mood to hear it. - -"What are you saying, Kate?" she cried, angrily. "It cannot be -possible--Miss Holte would never go to meet a servant. You must be -mistaken." - -"I am not, indeed, Miss Dartelle. I thought it my duty to mention it to -you. They were talking for more than half an hour, and Miss Holte had -her hands clasped, as though she were begging and praying him about -something." - -"Nonsense," said Miss Dartelle--"you must be mistaken. What can Miss -Holte know of Lord Chandon's servant?" - -Even as she said the words a sudden idea rushed through her mind. "What -if the servant was taking some message from his master?" - -"I will make inquiries," she said aloud. "I will go to Miss Holte." - -But further testimony was not needed, for, as Miss Dartelle crossed the -upper corridor, she saw Hyacinth standing by the window. To her came -Gustave, who bowed silently, placed a note in her hand, and then -withdrew. - -"I have had absolute proof now," she said. "This shall end at once." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - - -Lady Dartelle sat alone in her own room. The evening had suddenly grown -cold and chilly; heavy showers of rain were beating against the windows; -the fine warm day had ended in something like a tempest. Then there came -a lull. They could hear the beating of the waves on the shore, while -from the woods came the sobbing and wailing of the wind; the night came -on in intense darkness and cold. Lady Dartelle had ordered a fire in her -room, and told the maid to bring her a cup of warm tea there, for her -ladyship was tired with the long day in the fresh air. - -She was reclining comfortably, and at her ease, with a new novel in her -hand, when the door suddenly opened, and Veronica entered, her face -flushed with anger. Lady Dartelle's heart sunk at the sight; there was -nothing she dreaded more than an ebullition of temper from her -daughters. - -"Mamma," cried the young lady, "be good enough to attend to me. You -laughed at my advice before; now, perhaps, when the mischief is done, -you will give more heed." - -Lady Dartelle laid down her book with a profound sigh of resignation. - -"What is the matter, Veronica?" she asked calmly. - -"The matter is, mamma, that everything has turned out as I foresaw it -would. Your governess has contrived to get up some kind of acquaintance -with Lord Chandon." Veronica's face broke down with anger and emotion. - -"I feel sure you are mistaken, Veronica. I have reason to think very -highly of Miss Holte's prudence. I have not mentioned it before, but I -have really been delighted with her. She might have caused your brother -to make a fool of himself; but she refrained, and would have nothing to -say to him." Veronica laughed contemptuously. - -"Why trouble herself about a baronet, when she can flirt with a lord? I -tell you, mamma, that girl is a mask of deceit--all the worse, doubly -worse, because she tries to blind you by her seeming simplicity." - -"What has she done?" asked Lady Dartelle, gravely. - -"Yesterday she declined to go with us; but the reason was not, as you -imagine, self-denial. She remained at home purposely to meet Gustave, -Lord Chandon's valet; and my maid saw her talking to him for more than -an hour on the sands. Now, mamma, you and I know what such a proceeding -means. Of course Miss Holte's refinement and education forbid the notion -that she went out to meet a servant for his own sake. It was simply to -receive a message from, or arrange some plan about, his master." - -"Servants' gossip, my dear," decided Lady Dartelle. - -"Nothing of the kind, mamma. Perhaps you will believe me when I say that -as I was passing the upper corridor--on my way, in fact, to see Miss -Holte--I saw Gustave go up to her; she was standing at the window. He -put a note into her hand and went away, after making her a low bow." - -"You really witnessed that, Veronica, yourself?" - -"I did, indeed, mamma; and I tell you that, with all her seeming -meekness, that girl is carrying on an underhand correspondence with Lord -Chandon. In justice to myself and my sister, I demand that she be sent -from the house--I demand it as a right!" she added passionately. - -"I will inquire into it at once," said Lady Dartelle; "if she be guilty, -she shall go. I will send for her." - -While a servant was sent to summon Miss Holte to her ladyship's -presence, Lady Dartelle looked very anxious. - -"This is a serious charge, Veronica. Aubrey has taught us to look upon -Lord Chandon as a man of such unblemished honor that I can hardly -believe he would lower himself to carry on an intrigue in any house -where he was visiting, least of all with a governess." - -"It is quite possible," said Veronica, "that Miss Holte may have known -him before he came here; there is evidently something of the adventuress -about her." - -But when, a few minutes afterward, Miss Holte entered the room, there -was something in the pure lovely face that belied such words. - -"Miss Holte," said Lady Dartelle, "I have sent for you on a very painful -matter. I need hardly say that during your residence with me I have -learned to trust you; but I have heard that which makes me fear my trust -may have been misplaced. Is it true that yesterday you met and talked -for some time with the servant of Lord Chandon?" - -Veronica noted with malicious triumph how the sweet face grew white and -a great fear darkened the violet eyes. - -Hyacinth opened her lips to speak, but the sound died away upon them. - -"Is it true?" asked Lady Dartelle. - -"It was quite accidental," she murmured, and she trembled so violently -that she was obliged to hold the table for support. - -"Governesses do not meet men-servants and talk to them by the hour -accidentally," said Veronica. - -"You do not deny it, then, Miss Holte?" - -"I do not," she replied, faintly. She was thinking to herself, "I shall -have time to run away before the blow falls;" and that thought alone -sustained her. - -"I am sorry for it," continued Lady Dartelle. "May I ask also if that -servant brought a note for you this evening, and gave it in your hand?" - -"I refuse to answer," she replied, with quiet dignity. - -"No answer is needed," said Veronica; "I saw you receive the note." - -A deeper pallor came over the fair face--a hunted look came into the sad -eyes. The girl clasped her hands nervously. - -"I am sorry that this should have happened," said Lady Dartelle. -"Knowing you to be a person of refinement and education, I cannot -believe you to be guilty of an intrigue with a servant--that I am sure -is not the case. I can only imagine that you have some underhand -correspondence with a gentleman whom I have hitherto highly -respected--with Lord Chandon." - -"I have not. Oh, believe me, Lady Dartelle, indeed I have not! He has -never seen me--at least, I mean--O Heaven help me!" - -"You see," said Veronica to Lady Dartelle, "that confusion means guilt." -Miss Dartelle turned to the trembling, pallid girl. - -"Do you mean to tell us," she asked, "that you do not know Lord -Chandon?" - -"I--I mean," murmured the white lips, and then Hyacinth buried her face -in her hands and said no more. - -"I think, mamma," said Miss Dartelle, "that you have proof sufficient." - -"I am very sorry that you have forgotten yourself, Miss Holte," said her -ladyship, gravely. "I shall consider it my duty to speak to his lordship -in the morning; and you must prepare to leave Hulme Abbey at once." - -The girl raised her white face with a look of despair which Lady -Dartelle never forgot. "May I ask your ladyship," she said, faintly, -"not to mention my name to--to the gentleman, and to let me go away in -the morning?" - -This was the most unfortunate question that, for her own sake, she could -have asked--it only confirmed Lady Dartelle's opinion of her guilt and -aroused her curiosity. - -"I shall most certainly speak to Lord Chandon; it is only due to him -that he should have the opportunity of freeing himself from what is -really a most disgraceful charge." - -Hyacinth wrung her hands with a gesture of despair, which was not lost -upon the two ladies. - -"You can retire to your room," said Lady Dartelle, coolly; "we will -arrange to-morrow about the time of your going." - -As the unhappy girl closed the door, Veronica turned to her mother with -an air of triumph. - -"That girl is an adventuress--there is something wrong about her. You -will act very wisely to let her go." At a violent blast of the tempest -without Veronica paused in her remarks about Miss Holte, and exclaimed, -"What a terrible storm, mamma! Do you hear the rain?" - -"Yes," replied Lady Dartelle; "they who are safe and warm at home may -thank Heaven for it." - -The young governess went to her room and stood there a picture of -despair. What was she to do? Gustave, in the little note that he had -brought, told her he had decided to obey her and say nothing; so that -she had begun to feel a sense of security again. The present discovery -was more dreadful than anything she had ever imagined, more terrible -than anything else that could have happened. What would Adrian say or -think? Oh, she must go--go before this crowning shame and disgrace came! -In the morning Lord Chandon would be asked about her, and would, of -course, deny all knowledge of her. She would probably be forced to see -him then--dear Heaven, what misery! - -"I would rather," she said to herself, "die ten thousand deaths. I have -wronged you enough, my love--I will wrong you no more." - -Perhaps her brain was in some degree weakened by the continued shocks -and by bitter suffering, but there came to her in that hour, the crisis -of her life, no idea but of flight--anyhow, anywhere--flight where those -cruel words could not follow her--flight were it even into the cold arms -of death. - -She would go to Dr. Chalmers and ask him at once to take her abroad, to -guide her to some place where those who persecuted her could never reach -her more. She did not stop to think; every footstep made her tremble, -every sound threw her into a paroxysm of fear. What if they should be -coming to confront her now with Lord Chandon? - -"I cannot see him," she said; "death rather than that!" - -At last she could bear the suspense no longer. What mattered the rain, -the wind, the blinding tempest to her? Out of the house she would be -safe; in the house danger greater than death threatened her--danger she -could not, would not, dared not face. - -She did not stop to think; she did not even go to the bedside of the -little one she loved so dearly to kiss her for the last time; a wild, -half-mad frenzy had seized upon her. - -She must go, for her persecutors were close upon her, were hunting her -down. She must go, or her doom was sealed. She put on her cloak and hat, -and went down the staircase and out by one of the side doors, unseen, -unnoticed. The wind almost blinded her, the rain beat fast and heavy -upon her; but the darkness, the storm, the leaden sky, the wailing wind, -seemed preferable to what lay before her. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - - -It appeared to Adrian, Lord Chandon, on the morning following, that -there was some unusual confusion in the house. Lady Dartelle was late in -coming down to breakfast. When breakfast was over, she asked to speak -with Lord Chandon alone, and he followed her to the library. - -"My lord," she began, "pray tell me, do you know anything of the -whereabouts of this unfortunate girl? I had perhaps better explain to -you that much scandal has been caused in my household by the fact that -my governess met your valet on the sands, and was seen talking to him -for more than an hour. One of my daughters also saw him give Miss Holte -a note. Now, as we could not imagine her capable of any correspondence -with a servant it was only natural to suppose that he was acting for his -master. I sent for Miss Holte and spoke to her, and she evinced the -utmost confusion, and terrible agitation. She did not deny that she was -acquainted with you. I told her I should consider it my duty to speak to -you; this morning we find she must have left the house last night. Had I -not reason to seek an explanation, Lord Chandon?" - -"You had, indeed," he replied, "but I can throw no light on the mystery. -Here is Gustave; perhaps he can enlighten us." - -"Gustave," asked Lord Chandon, "for whom have you been carrying notes to -Lady Dartelle's governess?" - -"For no one, my lord. I took her one note, but it was written by -myself." - -"Gustave," said Lord Chandon, sternly, "I command you to tell all you -know of the lady." - -"I promised not to betray her, my lord," and as he spoke he looked -wistfully at his master. Adrian thought that he saw tears in his eyes. - -"Gustave," he said, "you have always been faithful to me. Tell me, who -is this lady?" - -"Oh, my lord!" cried the man, in a strange voice, "can you not guess?" -Lord Chandon was puzzled, and then his face changed, a ghastly pallor -came over it. - -"Do you mean to tell me," he demanded, in a trembling voice, "that it -is--it is Miss Vaughan?" - -A look of wild excitement came over Adrian's face, as he turned to Lady -Dartelle. - -"I believe," he said, "that the lady you call your governess is the one -I have so long searched for--the lady who is betrothed to me--Miss -Vaughan. Where is she?" he cried, "she must be looked for. Thank heaven, -I have found some trace of her at last!" - -"Where is Aubrey?" he asked, and in a few minutes the young baronet had -heard the story. He could scarcely conceal his excitement and wonder. "I -will find her," said Adrian to Sir Aubrey. "Will you go down to the -seashore, Aubrey? And I will take Gustave with me through the woods. I -will find her, living or dead." - -They were half way through the woods, walking on in profound silence, -when Gustave, looking through a cluster of trees, suddenly clutched his -master's arm. "Look, my lord, there is something lying under that tree!" - -It was Hyacinth's silent, prostrate form. - -"She is dead!" cried Gustave. - -But Lord Chandon pushed him away. With a cry of agony the man never -forgot, he raised the silent figure in his arms. "My darling!" he cried, -"Oh, heaven, do not let me lose her! Give me the brandy, Gustave, -quickly," he said, "and run--run for your life. Tell Lady Dartelle that -we have found Miss Vaughan, and ask her to send a carriage to the -entrance to the woods, telegraph for a doctor, and have all ready as -soon as possible." - -Adrian would allow no other hands to touch her. He raised her, carried -her to the carriage, and held her during the short drive. When they -reached the house, and she had been carried to her room, he went to Lady -Dartelle and took her hands in his. Tears shone in his eyes. - -"Lady Dartelle," he said, "I would give my life for hers! Will you do -your best to save her for me?" - -"I will," she replied, "you may trust me." - -Adrian did not leave the house, but Sir Aubrey Dartelle telegraphed Sir -Arthur and Lady Vaughan the glad tidings that the lost one had been -found. Dr. Ewald was astonished, when he went down stairs, to find -himself caught in a most impulsive and excited manner by the hand. - -"The truth, doctor," said Lord Chandon, "I must know the truth! Is there -any danger?" - -"I think not. If she is kept quiet, and free from excitement for two -days, I will predict a perfect recovery." - -On the third day Lady Dartelle sought Lord Chandon. "Miss Vaughan is -much better, and is sitting up," she said, with a quiet smile. "Would -you like to go up and see her?" - -Hyacinth rose when Adrian entered Lady Dartelle's sitting-room. She -stretched out her hands to him with a little imploring cry, and the next -moment he had folded her to his heart--he had covered her face with -passionate kisses and tears. She trembled in his strong grasp. - -"Adrian," she whispered, "do you quite forgive me?" - -"My darling," he said, "I have nothing to forgive; it was, after all, -but the shadow of a sin." - - * * * * * - -Never had the May sun shone more brightly. It was the twenty-second of -the month, yet everyone declared it was more like the middle of June -than of May. - -Hyacinth and Adrian were to be married in the old parish church at -Oakton. Long before the hour of celebration, crowds of people had -assembled, all bearing flowers to throw beneath the bride's feet. - -Sir Aubrey Dartelle--best man--with Lord Chandon, was already waiting at -the altar, and to all appearances seemed inclined to envy his friend's -good fortune. - -The ceremony was performed, the marriage vows were repeated, and Adrian -Lord Chandon and Hyacinth Vaughan were made husband and wife--never to -be parted more until death. - - * * * * * - -Three years have passed since that bright wedding day. Looking on the -radiant face of Lady Chandon, one could hardly believe that desolation -and anguish had marked her for their own. There was no shadow now in -those beautiful eyes, for the face was full of love and of happiness. - -One morning Lady Chandon was in the nursery with Lady Vaughan, who had -gone to look at the baby. They were admiring him, his golden curls, his -dark eyes, the grace of his rounded limbs, when Lord Chandon suddenly -appeared on the scene. - -"Hyacinth," he said, "will you come down stairs? There are visitors for -you." - -"Who is it, Adrian?" she asked. - -"The visitors are Mr. and Mrs. Lady Claude Lennox." - -She drew back with a start, and her face flushed hotly. "Claude," she -repeated. "Oh, Adrian, I would rather not go." - -"Go for my sake, darling, and because I ask it." - -Her husband's wish was sufficient. She entered the room, and Claude -advanced to meet her. "Lady Chandon," he said, "I am delighted to see -you." - -She was introduced to his wife, and Hyacinth speedily conceived a liking -for her. Lady Geraldine was very fond of flowers, and during the course -of conversation she asked Lord Chandon to show her his famous -conservatories. They all four went together, but Claude, who was walking -with Lady Chandon, purposely lingered near some beautiful heliotrope. - -"Pardon me," he said, "Lady Chandon, I wish to ask you a great favor. -You will like my wife, I think. Will you be her friend? Will you let us -all be friends? We should be so happy." - -She answered, "Yes." And to this day they are all on the most intimate -and friendly terms. - -After Claude and Lady Geraldine had driven away, Lord Chandon returned -to the drawing-room, and saw his wife standing by the window, with a -grave look on her beautiful face. He went to her. - -"What are you thinking about, Hyacinth?" he asked. - -"I am thinking, Adrian," she said, "that, remembering my great fault, I -do not deserve to be half as happy as I am." - -But he kissed the sweet lips, and said-- - -"Hush! That is passed and done with. After all, my darling, it was but -the Shadow of a Sin." - - -THE END. - - - - -HERMAN'S BLACK ART - -(Illustrated) - -By PROF. HERMAN - - -=MAGIC MADE EASY=--A complete book of Magic, Conjuring and Tricks with -Cards, as performed by the best magicians of the past and present day. -=Price 25 cents, postpaid.= - - -New Book of Etiquette - -FOR LADIES AND GENTLEMEN - -Complete book of etiquette and guide in society, containing etiquette in -the ball-room, at the table, on the street, at church, at parties and -evening companies for all occasions where etiquette should be observed. -=Price 25 cents, postpaid.= - - -MRS. ELLA E. MYER'S - -HOME COOK-BOOK - -(Illustrated) - -A general guide on carving, receipts of soups, fish, meats, poultry, -game, gravies, sauces, catsups, vegetables, rice, maccaroni, pickles, -preserves, jellies, pastry, pudding and other dainties. Also receipts -for candies. =Price 25 cents, postpaid.= - - - What It Is HYPNOTISM How to Use It - - (_Illustrated_) - -By E. H. ELDRIDGE, A.M., Professor of Psychology, Temple College - -CONTENTS: - -Hypnotism--Its History; Inducing Hypnotic Sleep; Instructions for -Testing Subjects; Fascination; Hypnotism in Trance; Dr. Charcot's -School; Famous Nancy Method; Anaesthesia--How Produced; Cataleptic, or -Rigor State; Lethargic, or Independent State; Suggestion by Imitation; -Curing Disease by Hypnotism; Treatment of Ills, etc., etc.; Hypnotism -Self-Induced; Dangers; People Hypnotised Against Their Will; -Instantaneous Hypnotism; Different Stages of Hypnotism; Magnetic -Healing; Mind Reading; Psychology of Hypnosis; Personal Magnetism; Mind -and Body, or the Science of Being, etc., etc. =Price 25 cents, -postpaid.= - - -ADDRESS ALL ORDERS TO - -ROYAL PUBLISHING CO., 530 LOCUST ST. - -PHILADELPHIA, PA. - - - - -Transcriber's Notes - - -Bertha M. Clay is a pseudonym sometimes used by American publishers when -reprinting books written by Charlotte M. Brame; this novel has been -published at different times under both names. - -Italics are represented using _underscores_. Bold is represented with -=equals signs=. - -Added Table of Contents. - -Retained some inconsistent hyphenation from the original (e.g. dewdrops -vs. dew-drops; fairylike vs. fairy-like). - -Title page, added close quote after "Lady Damer's Secret." - -Marriage Guide ad, changed "Gastation" to "Gestation" and "PUPLISHING" -to "PUBLISHING." - -Page 7, changed single to double quote before "You need not marry -him..." - -Page 13, changed "to night" to "to-night" and added missing quote after -'Yes; I will go.' - -Page 15, changed comma to period after "queen allowed herself." - -Page 16, changed "then" to "than" in "more toward magnificence than -cheerfulness." - -Page 36, changed "thick-notted" to "thick-knotted." - -Page 58, added missing "s" to "Darcy's" at end of first line of Chapter -XIII. - -Page 69, changed "to sure" to "too sure." - -Page 77, changed "pursuaded" to "persuaded." - -Page 79, added missing period after "life and death were in the -balance." - -Page 83, changed "seen hear" to "seen her." - -Page 84, moved letter signature to its own line and added an opening quote -for more consistent formatting. - -Page 106, added missing quote before "take my word for it." - -Page 119, added missing close quote after "dear old friends." - -Page 132, changed "correet" to "correct." - -Page 137, changed question mark to exclamation point after "If he could -only forget that horrid girl!" - -Page 142, changed oe ligature to oe in "coeur" for text edition. - -Page 153, added missing "an" to "more than an hour." - -Page 158, changed "brady" to "brandy." - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Shadow of a Sin, by -Bertha M. 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