diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:07:20 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:07:20 -0700 |
| commit | 29d21026a6e677b0ecb496e1994b9251497107cc (patch) | |
| tree | 8e40ed99cd8afde663d188f20725752dff4bf349 /37168-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '37168-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 37168-h/37168-h.htm | 18027 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37168-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 41962 bytes |
2 files changed, 18027 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/37168-h/37168-h.htm b/37168-h/37168-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fa76ccc --- /dev/null +++ b/37168-h/37168-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,18027 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/strict.dtd"> + +<html> + +<head> + + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=us-ascii"> + + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Norston's Rest, by Ann S. Stephens + </title> + + <style type="text/css"> + + blockquote { + text-align:justify; + } + + body { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + } + + #booktitle { + letter-spacing:3px; + } + + .center, + .centered, + .centertop { + text-align:center; + font-weight:bold; + } + + div.centered { + text-align:center; + } + + div.centertop { + text-align:center; + margin-left:15%; + margin-right:15%; + } + + div.centered table { + margin-left:auto; + margin-right:auto; + text-align:left; + } + + .figcenter { + padding:1em; + text-align:center; + font-size:0.8em; + border:none; + margin:auto; + text-indent:1em; + } + + .h1 { + font-size:2em; + margin:.67em 0; + } + + .h1, + .h2, + .h3, + .h4, + .h5 { + font-weight:bolder; + text-align:center; + text-indent:0; + } + + h1, + h2, + h3, + h4, + h5, + hr { + text-align:center; + } + + .h2 { + font-size:1.5em; + margin:.75em 0; + } + + .h3 { + font-size:1.17em; + margin:.83em 0; + } + + .h4 { + margin:1.12em 0 ; + } + + .h5 { + font-size:.83em; + margin:1.5em 0 ; + } + + h5 { + margin-bottom:1%; + margin-top:1%; + } + + hr.chapter { + margin-top:6em; + margin-bottom:4em; + } + + hr.tb { + margin:2em 25%; + width:50%; + } + + p { + text-align:justify; + margin-top:.3em; + margin-bottom:.3em; + text-indent:0; + } + + p.author { + text-align:right; + margin-right:10%; + } + + p.dropcap:first-letter { + float:left; + padding-right:3px; + font-size:265%; + line-height:83%; + width:auto; + } + + p.spacer { + margin-top:2em; + margin-bottom:3em; + } + + .pagenum { +/* visibility:hidden; remove comment out to hide page numbers */ + position:absolute; + right:2%; + font-size:75%; + color:gray; + background-color:inherit; + text-align:right; + text-indent:0; + font-style:normal; + font-weight:normal; + font-variant:normal; + } + + .poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + margin-bottom:1em; + text-align:left; + } + + .poem .stanza { + margin:1em 0em 1em 0em; + } + + .poem br { + display:none; + } + + .poem p { + margin:0; + padding-left:3em; + text-indent:-3em; + } + + .poem p.i2 { + margin-left:1em; + } + + .poem p.i4 { + margin-left:2em; + } + + .poem span.i2 { + display:block; + margin-left:2em; + padding-left:3em; + text-indent:-3em; + } + + .poem span.i4 { + display:block; + margin-left:4em; + padding-left:3em; + text-indent:-3em; + } + + .smcap { + font-variant:small-caps; + } + + .tdl { + text-align:left; + } + + .tdr { + text-align:right; + padding-right:1em; + } + + .tdrfirst { + text-align:right; + padding-right:1em; + font-size:80%; + } + + .topbox { + margin-left:20%; + margin-right:20%; + margin-top:5%; + margin-bottom:5%; + padding:1em; + color:black; + border:2px solid black; + } + + </style> + +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Norston's Rest, by Ann S. Stephens + +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: Norston's Rest + +Author: Ann S. Stephens + +Release Date: August 23, 2011 [EBook #37168] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NORSTON'S REST *** + + + + +Produced by Roberta Staehlin, David Garcia, Matthew Wheaton +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div> + +<br> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="400" height="597" alt="Cover" title="Cover"> +</div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<h1 id="booktitle">NORSTON'S REST.</h1> + +<p class="h3">BY</p> + +<p class="h2">MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS.</p> + +<p class="h5">AUTHOR of "BERTHA'S ENGAGEMENT," "FASHION AND FAMINE," "MABEL'S MISTAKE,"<br> +"THE OLD COUNTESS," "RUBY GRAY'S STRATEGY," "THE REIGNING BELLE,"<br> +"LORD HOPE'S CHOICE," "MARRIED IN HASTE," "THE SOLDIER'S ORPHANS,"<br> +"WIVES AND WIDOWS; OR, THE BROKEN LIFE," "MARY DERWENT,"<br> +"THE OLD HOMESTEAD," "A NOBLE WOMAN," "THE CURSE OF GOLD,"<br> +"THE GOLD BRICK," "DOUBLY FALSE," "PALACES AND PRISONS,"<br> +"THE HEIRESS," "SILENT STRUGGLES," "REJECTED WIFE,"<br> +"BELLEHOOD AND BONDAGE," "WIFE'S SECRET."</p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Why did he love her? Ask the passing breeze</i><br></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Why it has left the lilies in their bloom—</i><br></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The great white blossoms of magnolia trees,</i><br></span> +<span class="i4"><i>And jasmine flowers, that kindle up the gloom</i><br></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Of Southern woods, where the vast live oak grows,</i><br></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And mocking birds sing love notes to the rose.</i><br></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ask why it turned from these and lowly flew</i><br></span> +<span class="i2"><i>To kiss the purple violets in their dew.</i><br></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Yes, ask the breezes;—love is like to them</i><br></span> +<span class="i4"><i>In the free poising of his restless wing.</i><br></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Sometimes he searches for a priceless gem,</i><br></span> +<span class="i2"><i>But often takes a pebble from the spring.</i><br></span> +<span class="i2"><i>To his veiled eyes the humble pebble shines</i><br></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Bright as a jewel from Golconda's mines.</i><br></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Expect no answer why love chooses so—</i><br></span> +<span class="i2"><i>His reasons are as vague as winds that blow.</i><br></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h3">PHILADELPHIA;<br> +T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS;<br> +306 CHESTNUT STREET.</p> + +<p class="h5"> +Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by<br> +T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS,<br> +In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.</p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<div class="topbox"> +<p class="h2">MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS' WORKS.</p> + +<p class="h5">Each work is complete in one volume, 12mo.</p> + +<p class="h4"> +<i>NORSTON'S REST.</i><br> +<i>BERTHA'S ENGAGEMENT.</i><br> +<i>BELLEHOOD AND BONDAGE; or, Bought With A Price.</i><br> +<i>LORD HOPE'S CHOICE; or, More Secrets Than One.</i><br> +<i>THE OLD COUNTESS. Sequel to Lord Hope's Choice.</i><br> +<i>A NOBLE WOMAN; or, A Gulf Between Them.</i><br> +<i>PALACES AND PRISONS; or, The Prisoner of the Bastile.</i><br> +<i>WIVES AND WIDOWS; or, The Broken Life.</i><br> +<i>RUBY GRAY'S STRATEGY; or, Married By Mistake.</i><br> +<i>FASHION AND FAMINE.</i><br> +<i>THE CURSE OF GOLD; or, The Bound Girl and Wife's Trials.</i><br> +<i>MABEL'S MISTAKE; or, The Lost Jewels.</i><br> +<i>SILENT STRUGGLES; or, Barbara Stafford.</i><br> +<i>THE WIFE'S SECRET; or, Gillian.</i><br> +<i>THE HEIRESS; or, The Gipsy's Legacy.</i><br> +<i>THE REJECTED WIFE; or, The Ruling Passion.</i><br> +<i>THE OLD HOMESTEAD; or, The Pet From the Poor House.</i><br> +<i>DOUBLY FALSE; or, Alike and Not Alike.</i><br> +<i>THE REIGNING BELLE.</i><br> +<i>MARRIED IN HASTE.</i><br> +<i>THE SOLDIER'S ORPHANS.</i><br> +<i>MARY DERWENT.</i><br> +<i>THE GOLD BRICK.</i></p> + +<p>Price of each, $1.75 in Cloth; or $1.50 in Paper Cover.</p> + +<p>Above books are for sale by all Booksellers. Copies of any one +or all of the above books, will be sent to any one, to any place, +postage pre-paid, on receipt of their price by the Publishers,</p> +<p>T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS,</p> +<p><span class="smcap">306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa.</span></p> +</div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<div class="centertop"> +<p class="h3">TO<br><br> +MRS. GEN. WILLIAM LESLIE CAZNEAU,<br><br> +OF<br><br> +KEITH HALL, JAMAICA, W. I.<br><br> +ONE OF<br><br> +THE OLDEST AND DEAREST FRIENDS THAT I HAVE,<br><br> +THIS BOOK<br><br> +IS MOST AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.</p> + +<p class="author"><b>ANN S. STEPHENS.</b></p> +<p><span class="smcap">New York</span>, <i>May 31, 1877</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<div class="centered"> +<span class="pagenum">[21]</span> + +CONTENTS. + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="70%" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr><td class="tdrfirst">CHAPTER</td><td> </td><td class="tdrfirst">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">I.</td><td class="tdl">GATHERING OF THE HUNT</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">25</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">II.</td><td class="tdl">THE HILL-SIDE HOUSE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">III.</td><td class="tdl">WAITING AND WATCHING</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">42</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">IV.</td><td class="tdl">THE SON'S RETURN</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">49</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">V.</td><td class="tdl">CONFESSING HIS LOVE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">56</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">VI.</td><td class="tdl">CONFESSIONS OF LOVE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">60</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">VII.</td><td class="tdl">JUDITH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">VIII.</td><td class="tdl">WAITING FOR HIM</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">IX.</td><td class="tdl">THE NEXT NEIGHBOR</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">X.</td><td class="tdl">JEALOUS PASSIONS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XI.</td><td class="tdl">PROTEST AND APPEAL</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">92</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XII.</td><td class="tdl">THE HEART STRUGGLE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">96</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XIII.</td><td class="tdl">ONE RASH STEP</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">102</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XIV.</td><td class="tdl">ON THE WAY HOME</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">107</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XV.</td><td class="tdl">THE LADY ROSE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XVI.</td><td class="tdl">ALONE IN THE COTTAGE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">116</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XVII.</td><td class="tdl">A STORMY ENCOUNTER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XVIII.</td><td class="tdl">AN ENCOUNTER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">128</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XIX.</td><td class="tdl">FATHER AND DAUGHTER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">132</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XX.</td><td class="tdl">THE TWO THAT LOVED HIM</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">141</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXI.</td><td class="tdl">BOTH HUSBAND AND FATHER<span class="pagenum">[22]</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">146</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXII.</td><td class="tdl">WAS IT LIFE OR DEATH?</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">151</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXIII.</td><td class="tdl">BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">157</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXIV.</td><td class="tdl">A FATHER'S MISGIVING</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">164</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXV.</td><td class="tdl">THE BIRD AND THE SERPENT</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">170</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXVI.</td><td class="tdl">TRUE AS STEEL</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">175</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXVII.</td><td class="tdl">A CRUEL DESERTION</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">180</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXVIII.</td><td class="tdl">THE WIFE'S VISIT</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">186</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXIX.</td><td class="tdl">BY MY MOTHER IN HEAVEN</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">193</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXX.</td><td class="tdl">THE BARMAID OF THE TWO RAVENS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">198</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXXI.</td><td class="tdl">THE OLD LAKE HOUSE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">207</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXXII.</td><td class="tdl">THE NEW LEASE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">215</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXXIII.</td><td class="tdl">SHARPER THAN A SERPENT'S TOOTH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">220</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXXIV.</td><td class="tdl">THE SICK MAN WRITES A LETTER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">228</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXXV.</td><td class="tdl">WITH THE HOUSEKEEPER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">232</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXXVI.</td><td class="tdl">UNDER THE IVY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">237</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXXVII.</td><td class="tdl">A STORM AT THE TWO RAVENS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">243</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXXVIII.</td><td class="tdl">A PRESENT FROM THE FAIR</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">246</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XXXIX.</td><td class="tdl">A WILD-FLOWER OFFERING</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">251</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XL.</td><td class="tdl">SEEKING A PLACE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XL">257</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XLI.</td><td class="tdl">THE FATHER'S SICK-ROOM</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">264</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XLII.</td><td class="tdl">PROFFERED SERVICES</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">269</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XLIII.</td><td class="tdl">THE LOST LETTER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII">274</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XLIV.</td><td class="tdl">THE HOUSEKEEPER'S VISIT</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV">277</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XLV.</td><td class="tdl">EXCELLENT ADVICE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLV">286</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XLVI.</td><td class="tdl">THE SERPENT IN HER PATH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI">291</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XLVII.</td><td class="tdl">NIGHT ON THE BALCONY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVII">298</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XLVIII.</td><td class="tdl">WATCHING HER RIVAL</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVIII">301</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">XLIX.</td><td class="tdl">BROODING THOUGHTS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIX">309</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">L.</td><td class="tdl">YOUNG HURST AND LADY ROSE<span class="pagenum">[23]</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_L">312</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LI.</td><td class="tdl">THE GODMOTHER'S MISTAKE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LI">318</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LII.</td><td class="tdl">SITTING AT THE WINDOW</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LII">323</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LIII.</td><td class="tdl">DEATH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LIII">329</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LIV.</td><td class="tdl">THE GARDENER'S FUNERAL</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LIV">336</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LV.</td><td class="tdl">SEARCHING A HOUSE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LV">339</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LVI.</td><td class="tdl">A MOTHER'S HOPEFULNESS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LVI">343</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LVII.</td><td class="tdl">WAITING AT THE LAKE HOUSE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LVII">347</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LVIII.</td><td class="tdl">SIR NOEL'S VISITOR</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LVIII">353</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LIX.</td><td class="tdl">PLEADING FOR DELAY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LIX">358</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LX.</td><td class="tdl">LOVE AND HATE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LX">364</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXI.</td><td class="tdl">HUNTED DOWN</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXI">367</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXII.</td><td class="tdl">STORMS AND LADY ROSE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXII">372</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXIII.</td><td class="tdl">THE PRICE OF A LIFE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXIII">377</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXIV.</td><td class="tdl">JUDITH'S RETURN</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXIV">382</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXV.</td><td class="tdl">ON THE PRECIPICE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXV">387</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXVI.</td><td class="tdl">SIR NOEL AND RUTH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXVI">392</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXVII.</td><td class="tdl">SHOWING THE WAY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXVII">398</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXVIII.</td><td class="tdl">FORSAKING HER HOME</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXVIII">404</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXIX.</td><td class="tdl">THE SOUL'S DANGER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXIX">408</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXX.</td><td class="tdl">ON THE TRAIN</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXX">411</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXXI.</td><td class="tdl">THE SPIDER'S WEB</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXXI">416</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXXII.</td><td class="tdl">THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXXII">425</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXXIII.</td><td class="tdl">SEARCHING THE LAKE HOUSE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXXIII">429</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">LXXIV.</td><td class="tdl">COMING HOME</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXXIV">437</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<p class="h2">NORSTON'S REST.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[25]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<p class="h3">GATHERING OF THE HUNT.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>IN</b> the highest grounds of a park, almost an estate +in itself, stood one of those noble old mansions that +are so interwoven with the history of mother England, +that their architecture alone is a record of national +stability and ever-increasing civilization, written out in +the strength of stone and the beauty of sculpture. This +building, however grand in historical associations, was +more especially the monument of one proud race, the +Hursts of "Norston's Rest."</p> + +<p>Generation after generation the Hursts had succeeded +in unbroken descent to "The Rest" and its vast estates +since the first foundation stone was laid, and that was so +long ago that its present incumbent, Sir Noel Hurst, +would have smiled in derision had the Queen offered +to exchange his title for that of a modern duke.</p> + +<p>Sir Noel might well be proud of his residence, which, +like its owners, had kept pace with the progress of art +and the discoveries of science known to the passing +generations; for each had contributed something to its<span class="pagenum">[26]</span> +gradual construction, since the first rough tower was built +with the drawbridge and battlements of feudal times, to +the present imposing structure, where sheets of plate glass +took the place of arrow slits, and the lace-work of sculpture +was frozen into stone upon its walls.</p> + +<p>This glorious old park, like the mansion it surrounded, +brought much of its antique beauty from the dead ages. +Druid stones were to be found beneath its hoary old +oaks. Its outer verge was wild as an American forest, +and there one small lake of deep and inky blackness +scarcely felt a gleam of sunshine from month to month. +But nearer the old mansion this wilderness was turned +into an Eden: lawns of velvet grass—groves where the +sunshine shone through the bolls of the trees, turning the +grass under them to gold—lakes starred half the summer +with the snow of water-lilies—rose gardens that gave +a rare sweetness to the passing wind—shadowy bridle-paths +and crystal streams spanned by stone bridges—all +might be seen or guessed at from the broad terrace that +fronted the mansion.</p> + +<p>Here all was light gayety and pleasant confusion. +Sir Noel had many guests in the house, and they were +all out upon the terrace, forming a picture of English +life such as no country on earth can exhibit with equal +perfection.</p> + +<p>It was the first day of the hunt, and the gay inmates +of the house were out in the bright freshness of the +morning, prepared for a glorious run with the hounds. +The gentlemen brilliant in scarlet, the ladies half rivalling +them in masculine hats, but softening the effect with +gossamer veils wound scarf-like around them, and a +graceful flow of dark drapery.</p> + +<p>Beneath, breaking up the gravel of the carriage road<span class="pagenum">[27]</span> +with many an impatient hoof, was a crowd of grooms +holding slender-limbed horses, whose coats shone like +satin, when the sun touched them, while their hoofs smote +the gravel like the restless feet of gipsy dancing-girls +when a thrill of music stirs the blood.</p> + +<p>Further on keepers were scattered about, some looking +admiringly at the brilliant picture before them, others +holding back fiery young dogs, wild for a run with their +companions of the kennel.</p> + +<p>Gradually the light laughter and cheerful badinage +passing on the terrace died into the silence of expectation. +The party was evidently incomplete. Sir Noel +was there in his usual dress, speaking with polite composure, +but casting an anxious look now and then into +the open doors of the hall.</p> + +<p>Some fair lady was evidently waited for who was +to ride the chestnut horse drawn up nearest the steps, +where he was tossing his head with an impatience that +half lifted the groom from his feet when he attempted +to restrain the reckless action.</p> + +<p>It was the Lady Rose, a distant relative of Sir Noel's, +who had been her guardian from childhood, and now +delighted to consider her mistress of "The Rest," a position +he fondly hoped she might fill for life.</p> + +<p>Sir Noel came forward as she appeared, and for a moment +the two stood together, contrasted by years, but +alike in the embodiment of patrician elegance. She in +the bloom and loveliness of her youth: he in that exquisite +refinement which had been his inheritance +through a long line of cultivated and honorable ancestry. +Turning from Sir Noel, Lady Rose apologized to his +guests, and with a winning smile, besought their forgiveness +for her tardy appearance.<span class="pagenum">[28]</span></p> + +<p>That moment a young man, who had been giving some +orders to the grooms, came up the steps and approached +the lady.</p> + +<p>"Have you become impatient?" she said, blushing a +little. "I am so grieved!"</p> + +<p>The young man smiled, as he gave her a fitting answer. +Then you saw at once the relationship that he held with +Sir Noel. It was evident, not only in the finely cut +features, but in the dignified quietude of manner that +marked them both.</p> + +<p>"Mack has no idea of good breeding, and is getting +fiercely impatient," he said, glancing down at the chestnut +horse.</p> + +<p>Lady Rose cast a bright smile upon her guests.</p> + +<p>"Ladies, do not let me keep you waiting."</p> + +<p>There was a general movement toward the steps, but +the young lady turned to Sir Noel again.</p> + +<p>"Dear uncle, I wish you were going. I remember +you in hunting-dress when I was a little girl."</p> + +<p>"But I have grown old since then," answered the +baronet, with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>"This is my first day, and I shall be almost afraid +without you," she pleaded.</p> + +<p>The baronet smiled, shook his head, and glanced at +his son.</p> + +<p>"You will have younger and better care," he said.</p> + +<p>The young man understood this as a request that he +should take especial care of his cousin, for such the lady +was in a remote degree, and for an instant seemed to +hesitate. Lady Rose saw this, and, with a hot flush on +her face, ran down the steps.</p> + +<p>Young Hurst was by her side in a second, but she +sprang to the saddle, scarcely touching his proffered hand<span class="pagenum">[29]</span> +with her foot; then wheeled the chestnut on one side, +and waited for the rest to mount.</p> + +<p>Down came the party, filling the broad stairway with +shifting colors, chatting, laughing, and occasionally +giving out little affected screams, as one fell short of the +saddle, or endangered her seat by a too vigorous leap; +but all this only added glee to the occasion, and a gayer +party than that never left the portal of "Norston's +Rest" even in the good old hawking days of long ago.</p> + +<p>Young Hurst took his place by the side of Lady Rose, +and was about to lead the cavalcade down the broad +avenue, which swept through more than a mile of the +park before it reached the principal entrance gate, but +instantly there arose a clamor of feminine opposition.</p> + +<p>"Not that way! It would lead them in the wrong +direction; let them take a run through the park. They +would have rougher riding than that before the day was +over."</p> + +<p>Young Hurst seemed disturbed by this proposal; he +even ventured to expostulate with his father's guests. +"The park was rough in places," he said, "and the side +entrance narrow for so large a party."</p> + +<p>His argument was answered by a merry laugh. The +ladies turned their horses defiantly, and a cloud of red +coats followed them. Away to the right the whole cavalcade +took its way where the sun poured its golden +streams on the turf under the trees, or scattered itself +among the leaves of the hoary old oaks that in places +grew dangerously close together.</p> + +<p>As they drew toward that portion of the park known +as "The Wilderness," a wonderfully pretty picture arrested +the swift progress of the party, and the whole +cavalcade moved more slowly as it came opposite a small<span class="pagenum">[30]</span> +rustic cottage of stone, old, moss-grown, and picturesque, +wherever its hoary walls could be seen, through masses +of ivy and climbing roses. One oriel window was discovered +through the white jasmine that clustered around +it, and the verbenas, heliotrope, and scarlet geraniums +that crept beneath it from the ground.</p> + +<p>The vast park, in whose deepest and coolest verdure +this little dwelling stood, was like a world in itself; but +through the noble old trees the stately mansion-house +they had left could be seen in glimpses from this more +humble dwelling. This stood on the edge of a ravine, +left in all its ferny wildness, through which a stream +of crystal water leaped and sparkled, and sent back soft +liquid murmurs, as it flowed down in shadows, or leaped +in bright cascades to a lake that lay in the wildest and +lowest depths of the park, as yet invisible. Young Hurst +had urged his horse forward when he came in sight of +this wood-nest, and an angry flush swept over his face +when the party slackened its speed to a walk, and for an +instant stopped altogether, as it came in front of the +rustic porch; for there, as if startled by the sudden rush +of hoofs, stood a young girl, framed in by the ivy and +jasmine. She had one foot on the threshold of the +door, and was looking back over her left shoulder, as if +held in that charming attitude by a sudden impulse of +curiosity while she was retreating. Two or three exclamations +broke from the gentlemen, who were taken by +surprise by this beautiful picture; for in her pose, in the +dark frightened eyes, and the warm coloring of face and +garments, the girl was a wonder of picturesque beauty.</p> + +<p>"Who is she? Where did the pretty gipsy come +from?" questioned one of the gentlemen nearest to Hurst. +"Upon my word, she hardly seems real."<span class="pagenum">[31]</span></p> + +<p>"She is the daughter of my father's gardener," said +Hurst, lifting his hunting-cap as the girl's eyes sought +him out in her sudden panic. "Shall we ride on, gentlemen? +Our presence seems to disturb her."</p> + +<p>"Is it true? Is the pretty thing only a gardener's +child?" questioned one of the ladies, drawing close to +Lady Rose.</p> + +<p>"She certainly is only that," was the low, almost +forced answer. "We have always thought her pretty, +and she is certainly good."</p> + +<p>Hurst heard this and turned a grateful look upon the +fair girl. She saw it, and for an instant the color left +her face. Then she touched her horse, and the cavalcade +dashed after her through the depths of the park and +into the open country, where the hounds were to meet, +all feeling in a different way that there was some mystery +in the living picture they had admired.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE HILL-SIDE HOUSE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>AT</b> the grand entrance of the park a young man +had been waiting with a desperate determination +to take some part in the hunt, though he was well aware +that his presence in such company must be an intrusion; +for he was the only son of a farmer on the estate, and +had just received education enough to unfit him for usefulness +in his own sphere of life and render his presumption +intolerable to those above him.</p> + +<p>He had not ventured on a full hunting-suit, but wore<span class="pagenum">[32]</span> +the cap, boots, and gloves with an air that should, he +was determined, distinguish him from any of the grooms, +and perhaps admit him into the outskirts of the hunt, if +audacity could accomplish nothing more. The horse, +which he sat with some uneasiness, had been purchased +for the occasion unknown to his father, who had +intrusted the selection of a farm-horse to his judgment, +and was quite ignorant that the beast had been taken +out for any other purpose. As the young man rode this +horse up and down in sight of the gate, a groom came +through and answered, when questioned about the hunting +party, that it had started half an hour before across +the park.</p> + +<p>With an oath at the time he had lost, young Storms +put the horse to his speed and was soon in the open +country, but the animal, though a good one, was no match +for the full-blooded action for which Sir Noel's stables +were famous. After riding across the country for an +hour, as it seemed to him, wondering what course the +hunt would take, the horse suddenly lifted his ears, +gathered up his limbs, and, before his rider could guide +the movement, leaped a low wall into a corn-field and +was scouring toward some broken land beyond, when a +flash of darkness shot athwart his path, and the fox, +routed from his covert, dashed across the field. After +it came the dogs, red-mouthed with yelping, clearing the +hedges with scattered leaps, and darting swiftly, as shot +arrows, in the track of the fox.</p> + +<p>After them came the hunt, storming across the field, +over walls and ditches, and winding up the long slope of +the hill, scattering rays of scarlet flame as it went.</p> + +<p>The rush of the dogs, the desperate speed of the fox, +maddened Storms, as the first bay of the hounds had inspired<span class="pagenum">[33]</span> +his horse. He plunged on like the rest, eager and +cruel as the hounds. For once he would be in at the death.</p> + +<p>Storms had done some rough riding in preparation +for this event, but he lacked the cool courage that aids a +horse in a swift race or dangerous leap. In wild excitement +he wheeled and made a dash at the wall. The +horse took his leap bravely, but a ditch lay on the other +side, and he fell short, hurling his rider among the weeds +and brambles that had concealed its depths.</p> + +<p>The young man was stunned by the sudden shock, +and lay for a time motionless among the weeds that +had probably saved his life, but he gathered himself up +at last and looked around. The hunt was just sweeping +over the crest of the hill, and half-way up its face his +horse was following, true to its instincts.</p> + +<p>The young man felt too giddy for anger, and for a +time his mind was confused; still no absolute injury had +happened to him, and after gathering up his cap and +dusting his garments, he would have been quite ready to +mount again, and saw his horse go over the hill with an +oath which might have been changed to blows had the +beast been within his control.</p> + +<p>The scenery around him was in some respects familiar, +but he could not recognize it from that standpoint or +determine how far he was from home. In order to +make himself sure of this he mounted the hill, from +whence he could command a view of the country.</p> + +<p>A lovely prospect broke upon the young man when +he paused to survey it: below him lay a broad valley, +composed of a fine expanse of forest and farming land, +through which a considerable stream sparkled and wound +and sent its huddling crystal through green hollows and +shady places till its course was lost in the distance.<span class="pagenum">[34]</span></p> + +<p>This river Storms knew well. It passed through the +"Norston's Rest" estate, but that was so broad and covered +so many miles in extent that his position was still in doubt.</p> + +<p>Storms was not a man to occupy himself with scenery +for its own sake, however beautiful or grand; so, after a +hurried glance around him, he proceeded to mount +higher up the hill. The declivity where he stood sank +down to the river so gradually that several houses were +built on its slope, and most of the land was under some +sort of cultivation. The nearest of these houses was a +low structure, old and dilapidated, on which the sunshine +was lying with pleasant brightness. If nature had not +been so bountiful to this lovely spot, the house might +have been set down as absolutely poverty-stricken, but, +years before, some training hand had so guided nature +in behalf of the beautiful, that Time, in destroying, +made it also picturesque.</p> + +<p>Storms observed this without any great interest, but +he had attained some idea of thrift on his father's farm, +and saw, with contempt, that no sign of plenty, or even +comfort, was discernible about the place. It was a broken +picture—nothing more; but an artist would have longed +to sketch the old place, for a giant walnut-tree flung its +great canopy of branches over the roof, and, farther down +the slope of the hill, a moss-grown old apple orchard, +whose gnarled limbs and quivering leaves would have +driven him wild, had yielded up its autumnal fruit.</p> + +<p>There was a low, wide porch in front of the house, +over which vines of scant leafiness and bristling with +dead twigs crept toward the thatched roof. The walls +about the house were broken in many places, and left in +gaps, through which currant and gooseberry-bushes wound +themselves outward in green masses.<span class="pagenum">[35]</span></p> + +<p>At the end of this enclosure there had been some attempts +at gardening; but plenty of weeds were springing +up side by side with the vegetables, and both were richly +overtopped in irregular spaces by clusters of thyme that +had found root at random among the general neglect.</p> + +<p>All this might have given joy to a man of æsthetic +taste, but Storms would never have looked at it a second +time but for some object that he saw flitting through the +garden, that brightened everything around, as a tropical +bird kindles up the dense foliage of a jungle.</p> + +<p>It was a young girl, with a good deal of scarlet in her +dress and a silk handkerchief of many colors knotted +about her neck. She was bareheaded, and the sunshine +striking down on her abundant black hair, sifted a gleam +of purple through it, rich beyond description.</p> + +<p>The young man was bewildered by this sudden appearance, +and stood a while gazing upon it. Then his face +flushed and a vivid light came into his eyes.</p> + +<p>"By Jove, there's something worth looking after +here," he said. "The creature moves like a leopard, +and jumps—goodness, how she does jump across the +beds! I must get a nearer view."</p> + +<p>From that distance it was difficult to judge accurately +of the girl's face; but there was no mistaking the easy +sway of her movements or the picturesque contrast of +her warmly hued garments with the leafy shadows +around her.</p> + +<p>She was evidently a reckless gardener, for half the +time she leaped directly into the vegetable beds, treading +down the shoots that were tinging them with departing +greenness. All at once she dropped on her knees +and began to pull up some beets, from which she vigorously +shook the clinging soil.<span class="pagenum">[36]</span></p> + +<p>When she arose with her handful of green leaves and +roots, Storms became conscious that the old house, with +all its proofs of neglect, made an attractive picture.</p> + +<p>"I will ask for a cup of milk or a drink of water," +he thought; "that will give me a good look at her face."</p> + +<p>The old house was half-way down the hill, along +which the young man strolled. The gate scraped a semicircle +in the earth as he opened it and made for the porch, +from which he could see a bare hallway and a vista +through the back door, which stood open.</p> + +<p>A gleam of color which now and then fluttered in +view led the young man on. The boards creaked under +his tread as he went down the hall and stood upon the +threshold of the door, watching the girl as she stooped +by the well, holding her garments back with one hand +while she dashed her vegetables up and down in a pail +of water which she had just poured from the bucket.</p> + +<p>She looked up suddenly, and something that lay in +those large black eyes, the mobile mouth, the bright expression +fascinated him. She was picturesque, and just a +little awkward the moment she became conscious that a +stranger was so near her.</p> + +<p>"I have had a long walk, and am thirsty. Will you +give me a glass of water or a cup of milk?" he said, +moving toward the well. The girl dropped her beets +into the pail, and stood gazing on her strange visitor, +half shy, half belligerent. At last she spoke:</p> + +<p>"The cow has not been milked this morning," she +said, "and yesterday's cream has not been skimmed; +but here is water in the bucket, and I will bring a cup +from the house."</p> + +<p>"Thank you."</p> + +<p>She was gone in an instant, and came back with a<span class="pagenum">[37]</span> +tumbler of thick, greenish glass in her hand, which she +dipped into the bucket and drew out with the water +sparkling like diamonds as it overflowed the glass.</p> + +<p>As the young man drank, a cow that had been pasturing +in the orchard thrust its head over the wall and +lowed piteously.</p> + +<p>The young man smiled as he took the glass from his +lips.</p> + +<p>"I think the cow yonder would be much happier if I +had a cup of her milk," he said.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you must have it!" answered the girl, dashing +some water left in the glass on the stones around the +well, and, with a careless toss of the head, she went into +the kitchen and came out carrying a pail in one hand and +an earthen mug in the other.</p> + +<p>"Shall I go with you?" questioned Storms, holding +out his hand for the pail, but she swung it out of his +reach and went down the empty hall, laughing the +encouragement she would not give in words.</p> + +<p>The young man followed her. In pushing open the +gate their hands met. The girl started, and a hot blush +swept her face.</p> + +<p>"You should be a gentleman," she said, regarding his +dress with some curiosity.</p> + +<p>Storms blushed crimson. The suggestion flattered him +intensely.</p> + +<p>"Why should you think so?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>"Because working people in these parts never dress +like that, gloves and all!" she answered, surveying +him from head to foot with evident admiration. "A +whole crowd of them—ladies too—went by just now with +a swarm of yelping dogs ahead, and a little fox, scared +half to death, running for its life. Are you one of them?"<span class="pagenum">[38]</span></p> + +<p>"I might have been, only the brute of a horse made a +bolt and left me behind," said Storms, with rising +anger.</p> + +<p>"A horse! oh, yes, I saw one limping over the hill +after the rest went out of sight. Poor fellow, he was +lamed."</p> + +<p>"I hope so, the brute, for he has given me a long +walk home, and no end of trouble after, I dare say; but +if it hadn't happened, I should have missed seeing +you."</p> + +<p>Again the girl blushed, but carried her confusion off +with a toss of the head.</p> + +<p>That moment the cow, impatient for notice, came up +to her, lowing softly, and dropping foamy grass from +her mouth. Usually it had been the girl's habit to plant +her foot upon the grass and sit upon the heel as she +milked; but all at once she became ashamed of this +rough method, and looked around for something to sit +upon. The garden wall had broken loose in places. +The young man brought a fragment of rock from it and +dropped it on the ground.</p> + +<p>As she seated herself, slanting the pail down before +her, he took up the mug from the grass where she had +dropped it.</p> + +<p>"I must have my pay first," he said, stooping down, +and holding the mug to be filled.</p> + +<p>The soft sound of the milk, as it frothed into the mug, +was overpowered by the laughter of the girl, who saucily +turned the white stream on his hand.</p> + +<p>He laughed also, and shook off the drops, while the +foam trembled on his lips; then he bent down again, +asking for more. Thus, with his eyes meeting hers if +she looked up, and his breath floating across her cheek,<span class="pagenum">[39]</span> +this girl went on with her task, wondering in her heart +why work could all at once have become so pleasant.</p> + +<p>"There," she said at last, starting up from her hard +seat, "that is done. Now she may go back to her +pasture."</p> + +<p>As if she understood the words, that mild cow walked +slowly away, cropping a tuft of violets that grew by the +stone fence as she went.</p> + +<p>Storms reached out his hand for the pail.</p> + +<p>"Shall I help you?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," she answered, turning her black +eyes, full of mischief, upon him. "I can do very well +without."</p> + +<p>If this was intended for a rebuff, the young man would +not understand it as such. He followed her into the +house, without waiting for an invitation, and remained +there for more than an hour, chatting familiarly with the +girl, whose rude good-humor had particular charms for +him.</p> + +<p>In a crafty but careless way he questioned her of her +history and domestic life. She answered him freely +enough; but there was not much to learn. Her father +had come into that part of the country when she was +quite a child. A mother?—Of course she had a mother +once, but that was before she could remember—long +before the old man came to that house, which she had +kept for him from that day out.</p> + +<p>Storms looked around the room in which they sat, +and a faint, derisive smile came across his lips, for there +was dust on everything, and venerable cobwebs hung in +the corners.</p> + +<p>"Wonderful housekeeping it must have been!" he +thought, while the girl went on.<span class="pagenum">[40]</span></p> + +<p>Did her father own the house? Of course he did; +she had seen the lease—a long one—which gave it +to him for almost nothing, with her own eyes. Still, +that did not make him very rich, and he had to go out +to day's work for a living when farmers wanted help, +and not having much strength to give, got poor wages, +and sometimes no work at all.</p> + +<p>"Was her father an old man?"</p> + +<p>Yes, old enough to be her grandfather. Good as gold, +too, for he never scolded her, and was sure to make +believe he wasn't hungry when she had no supper ready +after a hard day's work, which was often enough, for if +there was anything she hated it was washing dishes and +setting out tables.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that rather hard on your father?" questioned +the young man.</p> + +<p>Judith answered, with a heavy shrug of the shoulders, +that she did not think it was, for he never did more than +heave a little sigh, then take up the Bible or some other +book, if he could find one, and read till bedtime.</p> + +<p>"A book! Does he read much?" asked Storms, +really surprised.</p> + +<p>Read! Judith rather thought he did! Nothing +seemed to pacify him when he was tired and hungry like +a book. Where did he get the books? Why, folks +were always lending them to him; especially the clergyman. +She herself might never have learned to read or +write if it had not been for her father; and then, what +would she have done all alone in the old house from +morning till night? What did she read? Why, everything +that she could lay her hands on. The girls about +had plenty of paper-covered books, and she always +managed to get hold of them somehow. It was when<span class="pagenum">[41]</span> +she had promised to read them through in no time that +her father had to go without his supper oftenest.</p> + +<p>Storms asked to look at some of these volumes, if she +had any on hand.</p> + +<p>After a little hesitation, Judith went into the kitchen +and brought a soiled novel, with half the paper cover +torn off, which had been hidden under the bread-tray.</p> + +<p>The smile deepened on the young man's lips as he +turned over the dingy pages and read a passage here and +there. After a while he lifted his eyes, full of sinister +light, to hers, and asked if her father knew that she +read these books so much.</p> + +<p>The girl laughed, and said that she wasn't likely to +tell him, when he thought she was busy with the tracts +and history books that he left for her. Then she gave a +little start, and looked anxiously out of the window, saying, +with awkward hesitation, that her father was working +for the clergyman that day, and might come home +early.</p> + +<p>Storms arose at once. He had no wish to extend the +pleasant acquaintance he was making to the old man, if +he was "good as gold."</p> + +<p>As he passed into the lane, the cow, that was daintily +cropping the grass on one side, lifted her head and followed +him with her great, earnest eyes, that seemed to +question his presence there as if she had been human.</p> + +<p>He took a step out of the way and patted her on the +neck, at which she tossed her head and wheeled up a +bank, evidently not liking the caresses of a stranger.<span class="pagenum">[42]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<p class="h3">WAITING AND WATCHING.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>THAT</b> night, long after the party at "Norston's Rest" +had returned from the hunt, John Storms, a farmer +on the estate, who stood at the door of his house chafing +and annoyed by the disappearance of his son with the +new horse that had just been purchased, heard an unequal +tramping of hoofs and a strange sound of pain +from the neighboring stable-yard. Taking a lantern, for +it was after dark, he went out and was startled by the +limping approach of the poor hunter, that had found its +way home and was wandering about the enclosure with +the bridle dragging under his feet, and empty stirrups +swinging from the torn saddle.</p> + +<p>The old man had been made sullen and angry enough +by the unauthorized disappearance of his son with the +new purchase; but when he saw the empty saddle and +disabled condition of the lamed animal, a sudden panic +seized upon him. He hurried into the house with +strange pallor on his sunburned face and a tremor of the +knees, which made him glad to drop into a chair when +he reached the kitchen, where his wife was moving about +her work with the same feverish restlessness that had +ended so painfully with him.</p> + +<p>The woman, startled by his appearance, came up to +him in subdued agitation.</p> + +<p>"It is only that the new beast has come home lamed, +and with the saddle empty," he said, in reply to her look. +"I must go to the village, or find some of the grooms. +Keep up a good heart, dame, till I come back."<span class="pagenum">[43]</span></p> + +<p>"Is he hurt? Oh, John! is there any sign that our +lad has come to harm?" questioned the poor woman, +shaking from head to foot, as she supported herself by +the back of the chair from which her husband started in +haste to be off.</p> + +<p>"I will soon know—I will soon know"—was his +answer. "God help us!"</p> + +<p>"God help us!" repeated the woman, dropping helplessly +down into the chair, as her husband put on his +hat and went hurriedly through the door; and there she +sat trembling until another sound of pain, that seemed +mournfully human, reached her from the stable-yard.</p> + +<p>This appeal to her compassion divided somewhat the +agony of her fears, and strengthened her for kindly +exertion. "Poor beast," she thought, "no one is taking +care of him."</p> + +<p>She looked around; no aid was near. The tired +farm-hands had gone to bed, or wandered off to the village. +She was rather glad of that. It was something +that she could appease her own anxiety by giving help +to anything in distress. Taking up the lantern, which +was still alight, she went toward the stable, and there +limping out of the darkness met the wounded horse. An +active housewife like Mrs. Storms required no help in +relieving the animal of its trappings. She unbuckled the +girth, took off the saddle, and passed her hand gently +down the fore leg, that shrunk and quivered even under +that slight touch.</p> + +<p>"It is a sprain, and a bad one," she thought, leading +the poor beast into his stall, where he lay down wearily; +"but no bones are broken. Oh, if he could only speak +now and tell me if my lad is alive—or—or—Oh, my +God, have mercy upon me, have mercy upon me!"<span class="pagenum">[44]</span></p> + +<p>Here the poor woman leaned her shoulder against the +side of the stall, and a burning moisture broke into her +eyes, filling them with pain; for this woman was given +to endurance, and, with such, weeping is seldom a relief; +but looking downward at the pathetic and almost human +appeal in the great wild eyes of the wounded horse, tears +partaking of compassion as well as grief swelled into +drops and ran down her face in comforting abundance. +So, patting the poor beast on his soiled neck, she went +to the house again and heating some decoction of leaves +that she gathered from under the garden wall, came back +with her lantern and bathed the swollen limb until the +horse laid his head upon the straw, and bore the slackened +pain with patience.</p> + +<p>It was a pity that some other work of mercy did not +present itself to assuage the suspense that was becoming +almost unendurable to a woman waiting to know of +the life or death of her only son. She could not sit +down in her accustomed place and wait, but turned +from the threshold heart-sick, and, still holding the lantern, +wandered up and down a lane that ran half a +mile before it reached the highway—up and down until +it seemed to her as if unnumbered hours had passed +since she had seen her husband go forth to learn whether +she was a childless mother or not. "Would he never +come?"</p> + +<p>She grew weary at last, and went into the house, looking +older by ten years than she had done before that +shock came, and there she sat, perfectly still, gazing into +the fire. Once or twice she turned her eyes drearily on +a wicker basketful of work, where a sock, she had been +darning before her husband came in, lay uppermost, with +a threaded darning needle thrust through the heel, but it<span class="pagenum">[45]</span> +seemed ages since she had laid the work down, and she +had no will to take it up; for the thought that her son +might never need the sock again pierced her like a knife.</p> + +<p>Turning from the agony of this thought she would +fasten her sad eyes on the smouldering coals as they +crumbled into ashes, starting and shivering when some +chance noise outside awoke new anguish of expectation.</p> + +<p>The sound she dared not listen for came at last. A +man's footstep, slow and heavy, turned from the lane +and paused at the kitchen door.</p> + +<p>She did not move, she could not breathe, but sat there +mute and still, waiting.</p> + +<p>The door opened, and John Storms entered the kitchen +where his wife sat. She was afraid to look on his face, +and kept her eyes on the fire, shivering inwardly. He +came across the room and laid his hand on her shoulder. +Then she gave a start, and looked in her husband's face: +it was sullenly dark.</p> + +<p>"He is not dead?" she cried out; seeing more anger +than grief in the wrathful eyes. "My son is not dead?"</p> + +<p>"No, not dead; keep your mind easy about that; but +he and I will have a reckoning afore the day breaks, +and one he shall remember to his dying day. So I warn +you keep out of it for this time: I mean to be master +now."</p> + +<p>Here Storms seated himself in an empty chair near +the fire, and stretching both feet out on the hearth, +thrust a hand into each pocket of his corduroy dress. +With the inconsistency of a rough nature, he had allowed +the anguish and fright that had seized upon him with +the first idea of his son's danger to harden into bitterness +and wrath against the young man, the moment he learned +that all his apprehensions had been groundless. Even<span class="pagenum">[46]</span> +the pale, pitiful face of his wife had no softening effect +upon him.</p> + +<p>"He is alive—but you say nothing more. Tell me is +our son maimed—is he hurt?"</p> + +<p>"Hurt! He deserves to have his neck broken. I tell +you the lad is getting beyond our management—wandering +about after the gentry up yonder as if he belonged +with them; going after the hunt and almost getting his +neck broke on the new horse that fell short of his leap at +a wall with a ditch on t'other side, that the best hunter +in Sir Noel's stables couldn't'a' cleared."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! you heard that; but was he much hurt? +Why didn't they bring him home at once?" cried the +mother, with a fever of dread in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Hurt! not half so much as he deserves to be," answered +the man, roughly. "Why, that horse may be laid +up for a month; besides, at his best, there isn't a day's farm-work +under his shining hide. The lad cheated us in the +buying of him, a hunter past his prime—that is what has +been put upon me, and serves me right for trusting him."</p> + +<p>"But you will not tell me, is our Richard hurt?" cried +the woman, in a voice naturally mild, but now sharp +with anxiety.</p> + +<p>"Hurt! not he. Only made a laughing-stock for the +grooms and whippers-in who saw him cast head over +heels into a ditch, and farther on in the day trudging +home afoot."</p> + +<p>The woman fell back in her chair with a deep sigh +of relief.</p> + +<p>"Then he was not hurt. Oh, father! why could ye +not tell me this at first?"</p> + +<p>"Because ye are aye so foolish o'er the lad, cosseting +a strapping grown-up loon as if he was a baby; that is +what'll be his ruin in the end."<span class="pagenum">[47]</span></p> + +<p>"He is our only son," pleaded the mother.</p> + +<p>"Aye, and thankful I am that we have no more of +the same kind."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father!"</p> + +<p>"There, there; don't anger me, woman. The things +I heard down yonder have put me about more than a +bit. The lad will be coming home, and a good sound +rating he shall have."</p> + +<p>Here farmer Storms thrust his feet still farther out on +the hearth, and sat watching the fire with a sullen frown +growing darker and darker on his face.</p> + +<p>As the time wore on, Mrs. Storms saw that he became +more and more irritated. His hands worked restlessly +in his pockets, and, from time to time, he cast dark looks +at the door.</p> + +<p>These signs of ill humor made the woman anxious.</p> + +<p>"It is going on to twelve," she said, looking at the +brazen face of an old upright clock that stood in a corner +of the kitchen. "I am tired."</p> + +<p>"What keeps ye from bed, then? As for me, I'll +not quit this chair till Dick comes home."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Storms drew back into her chair and folded both +hands on her lap. She was evidently afraid that her +husband and son should meet while the former was in +that state of mind.</p> + +<p>"I wonder where he is stopping," she said, unconsciously +speaking aloud.</p> + +<p>"At the public. Where else can he harbor at this time +of night? When Dick is missing one is safe to look for +him there."</p> + +<p>"It may be that he has stopped in at Jessup's. I am +sure that pretty Ruth could draw him from the public +any day."<span class="pagenum">[48]</span></p> + +<p>"But it'll not be long, as things are going, before Jessup 'll +forbid him the house. The girl has high thoughts +of herself, with all her soft ways, and will have a good +bit of money when her god-mother dies and the old gardener +has done with his. If Dick goes on at this pace +some one else will be sure to step in, and there isn't such +another match for him in the whole county."</p> + +<p>"But he may be coming from the gardener's cottage +now," suggested the mother. "Young men do not always +give it out at home when they visit their sweethearts. +You remember—"</p> + +<p>Here a smile, full of pleasant memories, softened the +old man's face, and his hard hand stole into his wife's +lap, searching shyly for hers.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I do forget them times more than I ought, +wife; but no one can say I ever went by your house to +spend a night at the ale-house—now, can they?"</p> + +<p>"But Dick may not do it either," pleaded the mother.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, wife, there is no use blinding ourselves: +the young man spends half his time treating the lazy +fellows of the neighborhood, for no one else has so much +money."</p> + +<p>The old lady sighed heavily.</p> + +<p>"Worse than that! he joins in all the low sports of +the place. Why, he is training rat-terriers in the stable +and game-chickens in the barnyard. I caught him fighting +them this very morning."</p> + +<p>"Oh, John!" exclaimed the woman, ready to accuse +any one rather than her only child; "if you had only listened +to me when we took him out of school, and given +him a bit more learning."</p> + +<p>"He's got more learning by half than I ever had," +answered the old man, moodily.<span class="pagenum">[49]</span></p> + +<p>"But you had your way to make and no time for +much study; but we are well-to-do in the world, and +our son need not work the farm like us."</p> + +<p>"I don't know but you are right, old woman. Dick +never will make a good farm-hand. He wants to be +master or nothing."</p> + +<p>"Hark—he is coming!" answered the wife, brightening +up and laying her hand on the old man's arm.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE SON'S RETURN.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>WHEN</b> Richard Storms entered his father's house +that night it was with the air of a man who had +some just cause of offence against the old people who had +been so long waiting for him. His sharp and rather +handsome features were clouded with temper as he +pushed open the kitchen door and held it while two +ugly dogs crowded in, and his first words were insolently +aggressive.</p> + +<p>"What! up yet, sulking over the fire and waiting for +a row, are you? Well, have it out; one of the men +told me that brute of a horse had got home with his leg +twisted. I wish it had been his neck. Now, what have +you got to say about it?"</p> + +<p>The elder Storms started up angrily, but his wife laid +a hand on his shoulder and besought silence with her +beseeching eyes. Then she was about to approach the +young man, but one of the dogs snapped fiercely at her,<span class="pagenum">[50]</span> +and when the son kicked him, retreated, grinding a piece +of her dress in his teeth.</p> + +<p>"You had better take care, mother! The landlord +of the 'Two Ravens' has had him in training. He's +been in a grand fight over yonder, and killed more rats +than you'd want to count. That makes him savage, you +know."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Storms shrunk away from the danger, and in +great terror crouched down by the oaken chair from +which her husband had risen. The old man started forward, +but before he could shake off the hold of his wife, +who seized his garments in a spasm of distress, Richard +had kicked both dogs through the door.</p> + +<p>"Take that for your impudence," he said, fiercely. +"To the kennel with you! it's the only place for such +curs. Mother, mother, I say, get up; the whelps are +gone. I didn't expect to find you out of bed, or they +shouldn't have come in."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Storms stood up, still shaking with fear, while +Richard dropped into his father's chair and stretched his +limbs out upon the hearth. The old man took another +seat, frowning darkly.</p> + +<p>"We have been talking about you—father and I," +said the old woman, with a quiver of the passing fright +in her voice.</p> + +<p>"No good, I'll be sworn, if the old man had a hand +in it," answered the son.</p> + +<p>"You are wrong," said the mother, pressing her hand +on the young man's shoulder. "No father ever thought +more of a son, if you would only do something to please +him now and then. He was speaking just now of letting +you have more charge of the place."</p> + +<p>"Well, that will come when I am my own master."<span class="pagenum">[51]</span></p> + +<p>"That is, when I am dead!" broke in the old man, +with bitter emphasis. "I almost wish for death now. +What your mother and I have to live for, God only +knows."</p> + +<p>"Hush, John, hush! Don't talk so. Richard will +forget his idle ways, and be a blessing to us yet. Remember +how we have spoiled him."</p> + +<p>"There, there, mother, let him have it out. There's +no use reasoning with him when his back is up," said +the young man, stretching himself more comfortably and +turning a belligerent look on the father.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Storms bent over her son, greatly troubled.</p> + +<p>"Don't anger your father, Dick. He was planning +kindly for you."</p> + +<p>"Planning what?—to keep me tied down here all my +life?"</p> + +<p>"If I have tried to do that," said the old man, "it +came from more love than I felt like talking about. +Your mother and I haven't many pleasures now, and +when you are away so much we feel lonesome."</p> + +<p>Dick turned in his chair and looked keenly at the old +man, amazed by his unusual gentleness. The lines that +seemed hard as steel in his young face relaxed a little.</p> + +<p>"Why couldn't you have talked like that oftener, +and made it a little more pleasant at home? One must +have something of life. You know that as well as I do, +father."</p> + +<p>"Yes; your mother and I have been making allowances +for that. Maybe things might have been managed +for the better all along; but we must make the best of it +now. As your mother says, a well-to-do man's only son +should make something better of himself than a farm +drudge; so we won't quarrel about it. Only be careful<span class="pagenum">[52]</span> +that the lass your mother and I have set our hearts +on gets no evil news of you, or we shall have trouble +there."</p> + +<p>Richard laughed at this and answered with an air of +bravado, "No fear, no fear. The girl is too fond of +me."</p> + +<p>"But her father is a skittish man to deal with, once +his back is up, and you will find it hard managing the +lass: let him see you with them terriers at your heels, and +he'll soon be off the bargain."</p> + +<p>"If you are troubled about that, kick the dogs into +the street and sell the game-chickens, if they crowd +mother's bantams out. How can a dutiful son do more +than that?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, now you talk like a sensible lad! Make good +time, and when you bring the lass home, mother and I +will have a bit of a cottage on the land, and mayhap you +will be master here."</p> + +<p>"Is he in earnest, mother?"</p> + +<p>"I think he is."</p> + +<p>"And you, father?"</p> + +<p>"For once I mean that your mother shall take her +own way: mine has led to this."</p> + +<p>The old man looked at the clock, and then on the wet +marks of the dogs' feet on the kitchen floor, with grave +significance.</p> + +<p>Young Storms laughed a low, unpleasant laugh, which +had nothing of genuine hilarity in it.</p> + +<p>"You are right, father. We should only have gone +from bad to worse. I don't take to hard work, but the +other thing suits me exactly. You'll see that I shall +come up to time in that."</p> + +<p>Just then the old clock struck one with a hoarse,<span class="pagenum">[53]</span> +angry clang, as if wrathful that the morning should be +encroached upon in that house.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Storms took up one of the candles and gave it to +her son.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, my son," she said, looking from the +clock to her husband with pathetic tenderness in her +voice. "Dick, you can kiss me good-night as you used +to when I went to tuck up your bed in the winter. It'll +seem like old times, won't it, husband? Shake hands +with your father, too. It isn't many men as would give +up as he has."</p> + +<p>The young man kissed his mother, with some show of +feeling, and shook hands with his father in a hesitating +way; but altogether his manner was so conciliatory that +it touched those honest hearts with unusual tenderness.</p> + +<p>"You see what kindness can do with him," said Mrs. +Storms, as she stood on the hearth with the other candlestick +in her hand, while her husband raked up the fire. +"He has gone up to bed with a smile on his face."</p> + +<p>"People are apt to smile when they get their own +way," muttered the old man, who was half ashamed of +his concession. "But I have no idea of taking anything +back. You needn't be afraid of that. The young man +shall have his chance."</p> + +<p>A sob was the only answer he got. Looking over his +shoulder, as he put the shovel in its corner, he saw that +tears were streaming down the old woman's face.</p> + +<p>"Why, what are you crying about, mother?"</p> + +<p>"I am so thankful."</p> + +<p>The good woman might have intended to say more, +but she broke off suddenly, and the words died on her +lips. The candle she held was darkened, and she saw +that the wick was broadening at the top like a tiny<span class="pagenum">[54]</span> +mushroom, forming that weird thing called a "corpse-light" +in the midst of the blaze.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter? What are you afraid of?" said +the farmer, wondering at the paleness in his wife's face.</p> + +<p>"Look," she said, pointing to the heavy wick. "It +seems to have come all of a sudden."</p> + +<p>"Only that?" said the old man, scornfully, snuffing +out the corpse-light with his thumb and finger.</p> + +<p>A shudder passed over the woman as those horny +fingers closed on the corpse-light and flung it smoking +into the ashes.</p> + +<p>The old man had no sympathy with superstitions, and +spoke to his wife more sharply than was kind, after the +double fright that had shaken her nerves. Perhaps this +thought came over him, for he patted her arm with his +rough hand, awkwardly enough, not being given to much +display of affection, and told her that she had for once +got her own way, and mustn't be frightened out of what +sleep was left for them between that and daylight by a +smudge of soot in the candle.</p> + +<p>"You can't expect candles to burn after midnight +without crumpling up their wicks," he said, philosophically: +"so come to bed. The lad is sound asleep by this +time, I dare say."</p> + +<p>These kind arguments did not have the desired effect, +for the mother's eyes were full of tears, and her hand +quivered under the weight of the candlestick, spite of all +her efforts to conceal it from the observation of her husband.</p> + +<p>In less than ten minutes the farmer was asleep, but +his wife, being of a finer and more sensitive nature, could +not rest. Like most countrywomen of her class, she +mingled some degree of superstition even with her<span class="pagenum">[55]</span> +most religious thoughts. Notwithstanding her terror +occasioned by the snarling dog, she might have slept +well, for the scene that had threatened to end in rageful +assault had subsided in unexpected concession; but the +funereal blackness in that candle coming so close upon +her fright completely unnerved her. Certain it is no +sleep came to those weary eyes. Close them as she +would, that unseemly light glared upon them, and to her +weird imagination seemed to point out some danger for +her son.</p> + +<p>At last the poor woman was seized with a desperate +yearning of motherhood, which had often led her to her +son's room when the helplessness of infancy or the +perils of sickness appealed to her—a yearning that drew +her softly from her bed. Folding a shawl over her night +dress, she mounted the stairs and entered the chamber +where the young man lay in slumber so profound that +he was quite unconscious of her presence; for neither +conscience nor tenderness ever took growth enough in his +nature to disturb an animal want of any kind. But the +light of a waning moon lay upon his face, so the woman +fell upon her knees, and gazing on those features, which +might not have seemed in any degree perfect to another, +soothed herself into prayer, and, out of the tranquillity +that brings, into the sleep her nature craved so much.</p> + +<p>The morning light found her kneeling thus, with her +cheek resting on his hand, which, in her tender unconsciousness, +she had stolen and hidden away there.<span class="pagenum">[56]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<p class="h3">CONFESSING HIS LOVE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>NORSTON'S REST</b>" was now in a state of comparative +quiet. The throng of visitors that had +made the place so brilliant had departed, and, for the first +time in months, Sir Noel could enjoy the company of his +son with a feeling of restfulness; for now the discipline of +school and college lay behind the young man, and he was +ready to begin life in earnest. After travelling a while +on the continent he had entered upon the dignity of heir-ship +with all the pomp and splendor of a great ovation, into +which he had brought so much of kindly memory and +generous purpose that his popularity almost rivalled the +love and homage with which his father was regarded.</p> + +<p>Sir Noel was a proud man—so proud that the keenest +critic must have failed to discover one trace of the arrogant +self-assumption that so many persons are ready to +display as a proof of superiority. With Sir Noel this +feeling was a delicate permeation of his whole being, +natural to it as the blue blood that flowed in his veins, +and as little thought of. Profound self-respect rendered +encroachment on the reserve of another simply impossible. +During the stay of his son at "The Rest" one fond hope +had possessed the baronet, and that grew out of his intense +love of two human beings that were dearest to him +on earth—the young heir and Lady Rose Hubert.</p> + +<p>It could not be asserted that ambition led to this wish; +though the lady's rank was of the highest, and she was +the inheritor of estates that made her a match even for +the heir of "Norston's Rest." The baronet in the isolation +<span class="pagenum">[57]</span> +of his long widowerhood had found in this fair girl +all that he could have desired in a daughter of his own. +Her delicacy of bloom and beauty appealed to his æsthetic +taste. Her gayety and the spirituelle sadness into +which it sometimes merged gave his home life a delightful +variety. He could not think of her leaving "The +Rest" without a pang such as noble-hearted fathers feel +when they give away their daughters at the altar. To +Sir Noel, Lady Rose was the brightest and most perfect +being on earth, and the great desire of his heart was that +she should become his daughter in fact, as she already +was in his affections.</p> + +<p>Filled with this hope he had watched with some anxiety +for the influence this young lady's loveliness might +produce upon his son, without in any way intruding his +wishes into the investigation; for, with regard to the perfect +freedom which every heart should have to choose a +companionship of love for itself, this old patrician was +peculiarly sensitive. Having in his own early years +suffered, as few men ever had, by the uprooting of one +great hope, he was peculiarly anxious that no such abiding +calamity should fall on the only son and heir of his house, +but he was not the less interested in the choice that son +might make when the hour of decision came. With all +his liberality of sentiment it had never entered the +thoughts of the baronet that a man of his race could +choose ignobly, or look beneath the rank in which he was +born. To him perfect liberty of choice was limited, +by education and family traditions, to a selection among +the highest and the best in his own proud sphere of life. +Thus it became possible that his sentiments, uttered +under this unexplained limitation, might be honestly +misunderstood.<span class="pagenum">[58]</span></p> + +<p>Some months had passed since the young heir had +taken up his home at "The Rest"—pleasant months to +the baronet, who had looked forward to this period +with the longing affection which centred everything of +love and pride on this one human being that man can +feel for man. At first it had been enough of happiness +that his son was there, honored, content—with an unclouded +and brilliant future before him—but human wishes +are limitless, and the strong desire that the young man +should anchor his heart where his own wishes lay grew +into a pleasant belief. How could it be otherwise, when +two beings so richly endowed were brought into the close +companionship of a common home?</p> + +<p>One day, when the father and son chanced to be alone +in the grand old library, where Sir Noel spent so much +of his time, the conversation seemed naturally to turn +upon some future arrangements regarding the estate.</p> + +<p>"It has been a pleasant burden to me so far," said the +old gentleman, "because every day made the lands a +richer inheritance for you and your children; but now +I am only waiting for one event to place the heaviest +responsibility on your young shoulders."</p> + +<p>"You mean," said the young man, flushing a little, +"that you would impose two burdens upon me at once—a +vast estate and some lady to preside over the old house."</p> + +<p>The baronet smiled, and answered with a faint motion +of the head.</p> + +<p>Then the young man answered, laughingly:</p> + +<p>"There is plenty of time for that. I have everything +to learn before so great a trust should be given me. As +for the house, no one could preside there better than the +Lady Rose."</p> + +<p>The baronet's face brightened.<span class="pagenum">[59]</span></p> + +<p>"No," he said, "we could hardly expect that. In all +England it would be difficult to find a creature so lovely +and so well fitted to the position."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel faltered as he concluded this sentence. He +had not intended to connect the idea of this lady so +broadly with his wishes. To his refined nature it seemed +as if her dignity had been sacrificed.</p> + +<p>"She is, indeed, a marvel of beauty and goodness," +answered the young man, apparently unmindful of the +words that had disturbed his father. "I for one am in +no haste to disturb her reign at 'Norston's Rest'."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel was about to say: "But it might be made +perpetual," but the sensitive delicacy natural to the man +checked the thought before it formed itself into speech.</p> + +<p>"Still it is in youth that the best foundations for domestic +happiness are laid. I look upon it as a great +misfortune when circumstances forbid a man to follow +the first and freshest impulses of his heart—"</p> + +<p>Here the baronet broke off, and a deep unconscious +sigh completed the sentence.</p> + +<p>Young Hurst looked at his father with awakened interest. +The expression of sadness that came over those +finely-cut features made him thoughtful. He remembered +that Sir Noel had entered life a younger son, and +that he had not left the army to take possession of his title +and estates until after mid-age. He could only guess +at the romance of success or disappointment that might +have gone before; but even that awoke new sympathy +in the young man's heart for his father.</p> + +<p>"I can hardly think that there is any time of life for +which a man has power to lay down for himself certain +rules of action," he said. "To say that any man will or +will not marry at any given period is to suppose him +capable of great control over his own best feelings."<span class="pagenum">[60]</span></p> + +<p>"You are right," answered Sir Noel, with more feeling +than he usually exhibited. "The time for a man to +marry is when he is certainly in love."</p> + +<p>"And the person?" questioned the young man, with a +strange expression of earnestness in his manner.</p> + +<p>"Ah! The person that he does love."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel, thinking of his ward, was not surprised to +see a flood of crimson rush over the young man's face, +nor offended when he arose abruptly and left the library.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">CONFESSIONS OF LOVE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>THE</b> baronet might, however, have been surprised +had he seen Walton Hurst pass the Lady Rose on +the terrace, only lifting his hat in recognition of her presence +as he hurried into the park.</p> + +<p>"He guesses at my madness, or, at the worst, he will +forgive it," ran through his thoughts as he took a near +route toward the wilderness, "and she—ah, I have been +cruel in this strife to conquer myself. My love, my beautiful +wild-bird! It will be sweet to see her eyes brighten +and her mouth tremble under a struggle to keep back her +smiles."</p> + +<p>Thoughts like these occupied the young man until he +stood before the gardener's cottage, and looked eagerly +into the porch, hoping to see something besides the birds +fluttering under the vines. He was disappointed: no +one was there; but glancing through the oriel window +he saw a gleam of warm color and the dejected droop of<span class="pagenum">[61]</span> +a head, that might have grown weary with looking out +of the window; for it fell lower and lower, as if two +unsteady hands were supporting the face. Hurst trod +lightly over the turf, holding his breath, lifted the latch +and stole into the little parlor in which the girl, we have +once seen in the porch, was sitting disconsolately, as she +had done hours each day through a lonely week.</p> + +<p>"Ruth!"</p> + +<p>The girl sprang to her feet, uttering a little cry of +delight. Then an impulse of pride seized upon the +heart that was beating so wildly, and she drew back, +repudiating her own gladness.</p> + +<p>"I hoped to find you here and alone," he said, holding +out both hands with a warmth that astonished her; +for she shrunk back and looked at him wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"I have been away so long, and all the time longing +to come; nay, nay, I will not have that proud lift of the +head; for, indeed, I deserve a brighter welcome."</p> + +<p>The girl had done her best to be reserved and cold, +but how could she succeed with those pleading eyes upon +her—those two hands searching for hers?</p> + +<p>"It is so long, so long," she said, with sweet upbraiding +in her eyes; "father has wondered why you did not +come. It is very cruel neglecting him so."</p> + +<p>Hurst smiled at her pretty attempt at subterfuge; for +he really had not spent much of his time in visiting Jessup, +though the gardener had been a devoted friend during +his boyhood, and truly believed that it was old remembrances +that brought the young man so often to his +cottage.</p> + +<p>"I fancy your father will not have missed me very +much," he said.</p> + +<p>"But he does; indeed, indeed he does."<span class="pagenum">[62]</span></p> + +<p>"And you cared nothing?"</p> + +<p>Ruth dropped her eyelids, and he saw that tears were +swelling under them. Selfishly watching her emotion +until the long black lashes were wet, he lifted her hands +suddenly to his lips and kissed them, with passionate +warmth.</p> + +<p>She struggled, and wrenched her hands away from +him.</p> + +<p>"You must not—you must not: father would be <i>so</i> +angry."</p> + +<p>"Not if he knew how much I love you."</p> + +<p>She stood before him transfigured; her black eyes +opened wide and bright, her frame trembled, her hands +were clasped.</p> + +<p>"You love me—you?"</p> + +<p>"Truly, Ruth, and dearly as ever man loved woman," +was the earnest, almost solemn, answer.</p> + +<p>The girl turned pale, even her lips grew white.</p> + +<p>"I dare not let you," she said, in a voice that was +almost a whisper. "I dare not."</p> + +<p>"But how can you help it?" said Hurst, smiling at +her terror.</p> + +<p>"How can I help it?"</p> + +<p>The girl lifted her hands as if to ward him away. +This announcement of his love frightened her. A sweet +unconscious dream that had neither end nor beginning +in her young experience had been rudely broken up +by it.</p> + +<p>"You tremble—you turn pale. Is it because you +cannot love me, Ruth?"</p> + +<p>"Love you—love you?" repeated the girl, in wild +bewilderment. "Oh, God! forgive me—forgive me! I +do, I do!"<span class="pagenum">[63]</span></p> + +<p>Her face was one flame of scarlet now, and she covered +it with her hands—shame, terror, and a great ecstasy of +joy seized upon her.</p> + +<p>"Let me go, let me go, I cannot bear it," she pleaded, +at length. "I dare not meet my father after this."</p> + +<p>"But I dare take your hand in mine and say to him, +as one honorable man should say to another: 'I love +this girl, and some day she shall become my wife.'"</p> + +<p>"Your wife!"</p> + +<p>"I did not know till now the sweetness that lies in +a single word. Yes, Ruth, when a Hurst speaks of +love he speaks also of marriage."</p> + +<p>"No, no, that can never be—Sir Noel, Lady Rose, +my father—you forget them all!"</p> + +<p>"No, I forget nothing. Sir Noel is generous, and he +loves me. You have always been a favorite with Lady +Rose. As for your father—"</p> + +<p>"He would die rather than drag down the old family +like that. My father, in his way, is proud as Sir Noel. +Besides—besides—"</p> + +<p>"Well, what besides?"</p> + +<p>"He has promised. He and John Storms arranged it +long ago."</p> + +<p>"Arranged what, Ruth?"</p> + +<p>"That—that I should some day be mistress of the +farm."</p> + +<p>"Mistress of the farm—and you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Hurst! it breaks my heart to think of it, +but father's promise was given when I did not care so +much, and I let it go on without rebelling."</p> + +<p>Ruth held out her hands, imploringly, as she said +this, but Hurst turned away from her, and began to +pace up and down the little parlor, while she shrunk<span class="pagenum">[64]</span> +into the recess of the window, and watched him timidly +through her tears. At last he came up to her, blaming +his own anger.</p> + +<p>"This must never be, Ruth!"</p> + +<p>"You do not know what a promise is to my father," +said the girl, with piteous helplessness.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do know; but this is one he shall not keep."</p> + +<p>Once more the young man took the hands she dared +not offer him again, and pressed them to his lips. Then +he went away full of anger and perplexity.</p> + +<p>Ruth watched him through the window till his tall +figure was lost in the windings of the path; then she ran +up to her own little room, and throwing herself on the +bed, wept until tears melted away her trouble, and +became an exquisite pleasure. The ivy about the window +shed a lovely twilight around her, and the shadows +of its trembling leaves tinted the snowy whiteness of the +pillow on which her cheek rested, with fairy-like embroidery. +The place was like heaven to her. Here +this young girl lay, thrilled heart and soul by the first +passion of her womanhood. This feeling that burned +on her cheek, and swelled in her bosom, was a delicious +insanity. There was no hope in it—no chance for reason, +but Hurst loved her, and that one thought filled the +moment with joy.</p> + +<p>With her hands clasped over her bosom, and her eyes +closed in the languor of subsiding emotion, she lay as in +a dream, save that her lips moved, as red rose-leaves stir +when the rain falls on them, but all that they uttered +was, "He loves me—he loves me."</p> + +<p>If a thought of her father or of Richard Storms came +to mar her happiness, she thrust it away, still murmuring, +"He loves me. He loves me."<span class="pagenum">[65]</span></p> + +<p>After a time she began to reason, to wonder that this +one man, to whom the giving of her childish admiration +had seemed an unpardonable liberty, could have thought +of her at all, except as he might give a moment's attention +to the birds and butterflies that helped to make the +old place pleasant. How could he—so handsome, so +much above all other gentlemen of his own class—think +of her while Lady Rose was near in all the splendor +of her beauty and the grace of a high position!</p> + +<p>"Was it that she was also beautiful?"</p> + +<p>When this question arose in her mind, Ruth turned +upon her pillow, and, half ashamed of the movement, +looked into a small mirror that hung on the opposite +wall. What she saw there brought a smile to her +mouth and the flash of diamonds to the blackness of her +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Not like the Lady Rose," she thought, "not fair and +white like her; but he loves me! He loves me!"</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">JUDITH.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>RUTH JESSUP</b> was indeed more deeply pledged to +Richard Storms than she was herself aware of. +The old farmer and Jessup had been fast friends for +years when these young people were born, and almost +from the first it had become an understanding between +them that their families should be united in these children. +The two fathers had saved money in their hard-working +and frugal lives, which was to lift the young<span class="pagenum">[66]</span> +people into a better social class than the parents had any +wish to occupy, and each had managed to give to his +child a degree of education befitting the advancement +looked forward to in their future.</p> + +<p>Young Richard had accepted this arrangement with +alacrity when he was old enough to comprehend its +advantages, for, of all the maidens in that neighborhood, +Ruth Jessup was the most beautiful; and what was +equally important to him, even in his boyhood, the most +richly endowed. As for the girl herself, the importance +of this arrangement had never been a subject of serious +consideration.</p> + +<p>Bright, gay, and happy in her nest-like home, she +accepted this lad as a special playmate in her childhood, +and had no repugnance to his society after that, so long +as more serious things lay in the distance. Brought up +with those habits of strict obedience so commendable in +the children of English parents, she accepted without +question the future that had seemed most desirable to +her father, who loved her, as she well knew, better than +anything on earth.</p> + +<p>Indeed, there had been a time in her immature youth +when the presence of young Storms filled all the girlish +requirements of her life. Nay, as will sometimes happen, +the very dash and insolence of his character had the charm +of power for her; but since then the evil of his nature +had developed into action, while her judgment, refined +and strengthened, began to revolt from the traits that +had seemed so bold and manly in the boy.</p> + +<p>Jessup had himself been somewhat displeased by the +idle habits of the young man, and had expostulated with +the father on the subject so directly that Richard was +put on a sort of probation after his escapade at the hunt,<span class="pagenum">[67]</span> +and found his presence at the gardener's cottage less welcome +than it had been, much to his own disgust.</p> + +<p>"I have given up the dogs and nursed that lame brute +as if I had been his grandmother—what more can any +reasonable man want?" he said one day when Jessup +had looked coldly on him.</p> + +<p>"If you would win favor with daughter Ruth, my lad, +go less with that gang at 'The Two Ravens,' and turn +a hand to help the old father. When that is done there +will always be a welcome for you; but my lass has no +mother to guide her, and I must take extra care that she +does not match herself illy. Wait a while, and let us see +the upshot of things."</p> + +<p>"Is it that you take back your word?" questioned +Richard, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Take back my word! Am I a man to ask that +question of? No, no; I was glad about the terriers, +and shall not be sorry to see you on the back of the horse +when he is well, for he is a fair hunter and worth money; +but daughter Ruth has heard of these things, and it'll be +well to keep away for a bit till they have time to get out +of her mind."</p> + +<p>"I'll be sure to remember what you say, and do nothing +to anger any one," said Storms, with more concession +than Jessup expected, and the young man rode away +burning with resentment.</p> + +<p>"So I am to be put in a corner with a finger in my +mouth till this pretty sweetheart of mine thinks fit to +call me out of punishment. As if there were no other +inn but 'The Two Ravens,' and no other lass worth +making love to but her! Now, that the hunter is on his +feet again, I'll take care that she'll know little of what +I am doing."<span class="pagenum">[68]</span></p> + +<p>This conversation happened a few days after the hunt. +Since that time Storms had never been heard of at the +"Two Ravens," and his name had begun to be mentioned +with respect in the village, much to Jessup's satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Occasionally, however, the young man was seen mounted +on the hunter, and dressed like a gentleman, riding off +into the country on business for his father. The people +who met him believed this, and they gave him credit for +the change that a few weeks had wrought.</p> + +<p>Was it instinct in the animal, or premeditation in his +rider that turned the hunter upon the old track the first +time he was taken from the stable? Certain it is that +Richard Storms rode him leisurely up the long hill and +by the lane which led to the dilapidated house he had +visited on the day of his misfortune, but without calling +at the house.</p> + +<p>After he had pursued this course a week or more, +riding slowly in full view of the porch, until he was certain +that one of its inmates had seen him, he turned from +the road one day, left his horse under a chestnut tree +that grew in the lane, and sauntered down the weedy +path toward the house.</p> + +<p>Looking eagerly forward, he saw Judith Hart in the +porch. She was standing on a small wooden bench, with +both arms uplifted and bare to the shoulders. Evidently +the unpruned vines had broken loose, and she was tying +them up again.</p> + +<p>As she heard the sound of hoofs the girl stooped down +and looked through the vines with eager curiosity.</p> + +<p>She jumped down from the bench as she recognized +the young man, a vivid flush of color coming into her +face and a sparkle of gladness in her eyes. If he had +forgotten that day when the first cup of milk was given, +she had not.<span class="pagenum">[69]</span></p> + +<p>At first a smile parted her red lips; then a sullen +cloud came over her, and she turned her back, as if about +to enter the house, at which he laughed inly, and walked +a little faster until a new mood came over her, and she +stood shyly before him on the porch, playing with the +vine leaves, a little roughly; yet, under all this affectation, +she was deeply agitated.</p> + +<p>"I have come," he said, mounting the broken steps of +the porch, "for another glass of water. You look cross, +and would not give me a cup of milk if I asked for it +ever so humbly."</p> + +<p>"There is water in the well, if you choose to draw it," +answered the girl, turning her face defiantly upon him. +"I had forgotten all about the other."</p> + +<p>"And about me too, I dare say?"</p> + +<p>"You! Ah, now, that I look again, you have been +here before. One cannot remember forever."</p> + +<p>Storms might have been deceived but for the swift +blushes that swept that face, and the smile that would +not be suppressed.</p> + +<p>"I have been so busy," he said; "and this is an out-of-the-way +place."</p> + +<p>Out-of-the-way place! Why, Judith had seen him +ride by a dozen times without casting his eyes toward +the poor house she lived in, and each time with a swift +pang at the heart; but she would have died rather than +let him know it, having a fair amount of pride in her +nature, crude as it was.</p> + +<p>"Will you come in?" she said, after an awkward +pause.</p> + +<p>The young man lifted his hat and accepted this half-rude +invitation.</p> + +<p>He did draw water from the well that day, while Judith<span class="pagenum">[70]</span> +stood by with a glass in her hand, exulting while she +watched him toil at the windlass, as she had done when +he asked for a drink. Some vague idea of a woman's +dignity had found exaggerated development since that +time in Judith's nature, and though she dipped the water +from the bucket, and held it sparkling toward him, it +was with the air of an Indian princess, scorning toil, but +offering hospitality. She was piqued with the man, and +would not seem too glad that he had come back again.</p> + +<p>"There is no water in all the valley like that in your +well," he said, draining the glass and giving it back +with a smile; "no view so beautiful as that which strikes +the river yonder and looks up the gorge. There must +be pleasant walks in that direction."</p> + +<p>"There the river is awful deep, and a precipice shelves +over it ever so high. I love to sit there sometimes, +though it makes most people dizzy."</p> + +<p>"Some day you will show me the place?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is found easy enough. A foot-path is worn +through the orchard. Everybody knows the way."</p> + +<p>"Still, I shall come to-morrow, and you will show it +to me?"</p> + +<p>The color rose in Judith's face.</p> + +<p>"No," she said; "I shall have work to do."</p> + +<p>There was pride, as well as a dash of coquetry, in this. +Judith resented the time that had been lost, and the forgetfulness +that had wounded her.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was this seeming indifference that inspired +new admiration in the young man. Perhaps it was the +unusual bloom of beauty dawning upon her that +reminded him vividly of Ruth Jessup; for the same +richness of complexion was there—the dark eyes and +heavy tresses with that remarkable purple tinge that one<span class="pagenum">[71]</span> +sees but once or twice in a lifetime. Certain it is, +he came again, and from that time the change in Judith, +body and soul, grew positive, like the swift development +of a tropical plant.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">WAITING FOR HIM.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>JUDITH</b> stood within her father's porch once more—this +time leaning forward eagerly, shading her eyes +with one hand, and looking from under it in an attitude +of intense expectation.</p> + +<p>As she waited there, with fire on her cheeks and longing +in her eyes, the change that a few months had made +was marvellous. Those eyes, at first boldly bright, were +now like velvet or fire, as tenderness or passion filled +them. She had grown taller, more graceful, perhaps a +little less vigorous in her movements; but in spirit and +person the girl was vividly endowed with all that an +artist would have desired for a picture of her own scriptural +namesake Judith.</p> + +<p>This question was on her lips and in her eyes: "Will +he come alone? Oh, will he come alone?"</p> + +<p>Was it her father she was watching for, and did she +wish him to come alone? If she expected that, why +were those scarlet poppies burning in the blackness of +her hair? Why had she put on that chintz dress with +tufts of wild flowers glowing on a maroon ground?—all +cheap in themselves, but giving richness of color to +match that of her person. Her father had gone to bed<span class="pagenum">[72]</span> +supperless one night because the money for that knot of +red ribbon on her bosom had been paid to a pedlar who +cajoled her into the purchase.</p> + +<p>Evidently some one besides the toiling old man was +expected. Judith never in her life had waited so +anxiously for him. There was a table set out in the +room she had left, on which a white cloth was spread; +a glass dish of blackberries stood on this table, and +by it a pitcher-full of milk, mantled temptingly with +cream.</p> + +<p>Does any one suppose that Judith had arranged all this +for the father whom she had sent supperless to bed only +a few days before, because of her longing for the ribbon +that flamed on her bosom?</p> + +<p>No, no; Richard Storms had made good use of his +opportunities. Riding his blood-horse, or walking +leisurely, he had mounted that hill almost every day +since his second visit to the old house.</p> + +<p>I have said that a great change had taken place in +Judith's person. Indeed, there was something in her +face that startled you. Until a few months since her +deepest feelings had been aroused by some sensational +romance; but now all the poetry, all the imagination +and rude force of her nature were concentrated in a first +grand passion. Females like Judith, left to stray into +life untaught and unchecked—through the fervor of +youth—inspired by ideas that spring out of their own +boundless ignorance, sometimes startle one with a sudden +development of character.</p> + +<p>As a tropical sun pours its warmth into the bosom of +an orange tree, ripening its fruit before the blossoms fall, +first love had awakened the strong, even reckless nature +of this girl, and inspired all the latent elements of a<span class="pagenum">[73]</span> +character formed like the garden in which we first saw +her, where fruit, weeds, and flowers struggled for life +together. Without method or culture, these elements +concentrated to mar or brighten her future life.</p> + +<p>For a while after that second visit of Storms, Judith +had held her independence bravely. When the young +man came, she was full of quaint devices for his entertainment, +bantering him all the time with good-natured +audacity, which he liked. She took long rambles with +him down the hillside, rather proud that the neighbors +should witness her conquest, but without a fear, or +even thought, of the scandal it might occasion.</p> + +<p>Sometimes they sat hours together under the orchard-trees, +where she would weave daisy-chains or impatiently +tear up the grass around her as he became tender or +tantalizing in his speech.</p> + +<p>For a time her voice—a deep, rich contralto—filled +the whole house as it went ringing to and fro, like the +joyous out-gush of a mocking-bird, for in that way +she gave expression to the pride and glory that possessed +her.</p> + +<p>The girl told her father nothing of this, but kept it +hoarded in her heart with the secret of her novel-reading. +But he saw that she grew brighter and more cheerful +every day, that her curt manner toward himself had +become almost caressing, and that the house had never +been so well cared for before. So he thanked God for +the change, and went to his work more cheerfully.</p> + +<p>No, it was not for the old father that worshipped her +that Judith stood on the porch that day. The meagre +affection she felt for him was as nothing to the one grand +passion that had swallowed up everything but the intense +self-love that it had warmed into unwholesome vigor.<span class="pagenum">[74]</span></p> + +<p>She was only watching for her father because of her +hope that another and a dearer one was coming with him.</p> + +<p>"Dear me, it seems as if the sun would never set!" +she exclaimed, stepping impatiently down from the +wooden stool. "What shall I do till they come? I +wonder, now, if there would be time to run out and pick +a few more berries? The dish isn't more than half full, +and father hinted that some were getting ripe on the +bushes by the lower wall. I've a good mind to go and +see. I hate to have them look skimpy in the dish. Anyway +I'll just get my sun-bonnet and try. Father seemed +to think that I might pick them for our tea. As if I'd +a-gone out in the hot sun for the best father that ever +lived! But let him think so if he wants to. One may +as well please the poor old soul once in a while."</p> + +<p>Judith went into the kitchen, took a bowl from the +table, and hurried down toward the orchard-fence, where +she found some wild bushes clambering up the stonework, +laden with fruit. A flock of birds fluttered out from the +bushes at her approach, each with his bill stained blood-red +and his feathers in commotion.</p> + +<p>Judith laughed at their musical protests, and fell +to picking the ripe berries, staining her own lips with +the largest and juiciest now and then, as if to tantalize +the little creatures, who watched her longingly from the +boughs of a neighboring apple tree.</p> + +<p>All at once a shadow fell upon the girl, who looked +up and saw that the golden sunshine was dying out from +the orchard.</p> + +<p>"Dear me, they may come any minute!" she said, +shaking up the berries in her bowl. "A pretty fix I +should be in then, with my mouth all stained up and my +hair every which way; but it is just like me!"<span class="pagenum">[75]</span></p> + +<p>Away the girl went, spilling her berries as she ran. +Leaving them in the kitchen, she hurried up to her own +room and gave herself a rapid survey in the little seven-by-nine +looking-glass that hung on the wall.</p> + +<p>"Well, if it wasn't me, I should almost think that +face was going to be handsome one of these days," she +thought, striving to get a better look at herself by a not +ungraceful bend of the neck. The mirror took in her +head and part of the bust on which the scarlet ribbon +flamed. The face was radiant. The eyes full of happy +light, smiled upon her until dimples began to quiver +about the mouth, and she laughed outright.</p> + +<p>The beautiful gipsy in the glass laughed too, at which +Judith darted away and ran down-stairs in swift haste, +for she heard footsteps on the porch, and her heart leaped +to meet them.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE NEXT NEIGHBOR.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>PANTING</b> for breath, radiant with hope, Judith +flung the door open.</p> + +<p>A woman stood upon the porch, looking up at a wren +that was shooting in and out among the vines, chirping +and fluttering till all the blossoms seemed alive.</p> + +<p>Judith fell back with a hostile gesture, holding the +door in her hand. "Is it you?" she asked, curtly enough.</p> + +<p>"Just me, and nobody else," answered the woman, +quite indifferent to the frowns on that young face. "Hurried<span class="pagenum">[76]</span> +through my work early, and thought I'd just run +over and see how you got along."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am doing well enough."</p> + +<p>"But you never come round to see us now. Neighbors +like us ought to be a little more sociable."</p> + +<p>"I've had a great deal to attend to," answered Judith, +still holding on to the door.</p> + +<p>"Nothing particular just now, is there? Got nobody +inside that you'd rather a next-door neighbor shouldn't +see—have you?" questioned the woman, with a keen +flash of displeasure in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Mrs. Parsons?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing; only I ought to know that chintz dresses +of the best, and red ribbons fluttering around one like +butterflies, ain't, as a general thing, put on for run-in +callers such as I am. I begin to think, Judith, that what +everybody is saying has more truth in it than I, as an +old friend, would ever allow."</p> + +<p>Judith turned as if to close the door and shut the intruder +out; for the girl was so angry and disappointed +that she did not even attempt to govern her actions. +The woman had more patience.</p> + +<p>"Don't do that, Judith; don't, now; for you will be +shutting that door in the face of the best friend you've +got—one that comes kindly to say her say to your face, +but stands up for you through thick and thin behind +your back!"</p> + +<p>"Stands up for me! What for?" questioned the girl, +haughtily, but checking a swift movement to cover the +knot of ribbon with her hand. "What is it to you or +any one else what I wear?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing—nothing; of course not; only, having +no mother to look after you, some of the neighbors feel<span class="pagenum">[77]</span> +anxious, and the rest talk dreadfully. I have eyes as well +as other people, but I never told a mortal how often I +have seen you and—you know who—sitting in the orchard, +hours on hours, when the old man was out to +work. That isn't my way; but other people have eyes, +and the best of 'em will talk."</p> + +<p>Judith's face was crimson now, and her black eyes +shot fire; but she forced herself to laugh.</p> + +<p>"Well, let them talk; little I care about it!"</p> + +<p>"But you ought to care, Judith Hart, if it's only for +your father's sake. Somebody'll be telling him, next."</p> + +<p>A look of affright broke through the fire in Judith's +eyes, and her voice was somewhat subdued as she answered:</p> + +<p>"But what can they tell him or any one else? Come +in and tell me what they say; not that I care, only for +the fun of laughing at it. Come in, Mrs. Parsons!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Parsons stepped within the hall and sat down in +the only chair it contained, when she took off her sun-bonnet +and commenced to fan herself with it, for the +good woman was heated both by her walk across the +fields and the curbed anger which Judith's rudeness had +inspired.</p> + +<p>"Laugh!" she said, at last. "I reckon you'll laugh +out of the other side of your mouth one of these days! +Talk like this isn't a thing that you or your father can +afford to put up with."</p> + +<p>"People had better let my father alone! He is as +good a man as ever lived, every inch of him, if he does +go out to days' work for a living!"</p> + +<p>"That he is!" rejoined Mrs. Parsons; "which is the +reason why no one has told him what was going on."</p> + +<p>"But what <i>is</i> going on?" questioned Judith, with an<span class="pagenum">[78]</span> +air that would have been disdainful but for the keen +anxiety that broke through all her efforts.</p> + +<p>"That which I have seen with my own eyes I will +speak of. The young man who stops each week at +the public-house yonder comes up the hill too often; +people have begun to watch for him, and the talk grows +stronger every day. I don't join in; but most of the +neighbors seem to think that you are on the highway to +destruction, and are bound to break your father's heart."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" sneered Judith, white with wrath.</p> + +<p>"They say the young fellow left a bad character behind +him, and that his visits mean no good to any honest +girl, especially a poor workingman's child, who lives +from hand to mouth."</p> + +<p>"Does my father owe them anything?" demanded +Judith, fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Not as I know of; but the long and the short of it +is, Judith, people will talk so long as that person keeps +coming here. A girl without a mother can't spend hours +on hours with a strange young man without having +awful things said about her; that's what I came to warn +you of."</p> + +<p>"There was no need of coming. Of course, I expected +all the girls to be jealous, and their mothers, too, because +Mr. Storms passed their doors without calling," answered +Judith.</p> + +<p>"That is just where it is. People say that the father +is a fore-handed man, and keeps half a dozen hands to +work on his place. This young fellow is an only son. +Now, is it likely, Judith, that he means anything straight-forward +in coming here so much?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Parsons said this with a great deal of motherly +feeling, which was entirely thrown away upon Judith,<span class="pagenum">[79]</span> +who felt the sting of her words through all the kindness +of their utterance.</p> + +<p>"As if Mr. Storms was not old enough and clever +enough to choose for himself," she said.</p> + +<p>"That's the worst of it, Judith. Every one is saying +that, after making his choice, he's no business coming +here to fasten scandal on you."</p> + +<p>"It isn't he that fastens scandal on me, but the vile +tongues of the neighbors, that are always flickering venom +on some one. So it may as well be me as another. I'm +only astonished that they will allow that he has made a +choice."</p> + +<p>"Made a choice! Why, everybody knows, that he's +engaged to be married!"</p> + +<p>"Engaged to be married!"</p> + +<p>A rush of hot color swept Judith's face as these words +broke from her lips, but to retreat slowly, leaving a cold +pallor behind.</p> + +<p>"Just that. Engaged to be married to a girl who +lives neighbor to his father's place—one who has plenty +of money coming and wonderful good looks," said the +woman.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it. I know better! There isn't a +word of truth in what any of them says," retorted Judith, +with fierce vehemence, while a baleful fire broke into +her eyes that fairly frightened her visitor.</p> + +<p>"Well, I had nothing to do with it. Every word may +be a slander, for anything I know."</p> + +<p>"It is a slander, I'll stake my life on it—a mean, base +slander, got up out of spite? But who said it? Where +did the story come from? I want to know that!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, people are constantly going back and forth from +'Norston's Rest,' who put up at the public-house at the<span class="pagenum">[80]</span> +foot of the hill, where he leaves his horse. All agree +in saying the same thing. Then the young man himself +only smiles when he is asked about it."</p> + +<p>"Of course, he would smile. I don't see how he could +keep from laughing outright at such talk."</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding her disdainful words, Judith was +greatly disturbed. The color had faded even from her +lips. Her young life knew its keenest pang when jealousy, +with one swift leap, took possession of her heart and +soul and tortured them. But the girl was fiery and brave +even in her anguish. She would not yield to it in the +presence of her visitor, who might watch and report.</p> + +<p>"They tell you that my father does not know when +Mr. Storms comes here. That, you will find, is false as +the rest. He is coming home with father this afternoon. +I thought it was them when you came in. Look, I +have just set out the table. Wait a while, and you will +see them coming down the lane together."</p> + +<p>Judith flung open the parlor-door as she spoke, and +Mrs. Parsons went in. Never had that room taken such +an air of neatness within the good woman's memory. +The table-cloth was spotless; the china unmatched, but +brightly clean; the uncarpeted floor had been scoured +and the cobwebs were all swept away. The open fireplace +was crowded with leaves and coarse garden flowers.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm glad that I can say that much, anyway," +said the good woman, looking around with no little +admiration. "What a nack you have got, Judith! +Just to think that a few branches from the hedge can do +all that! I'll go right home and tell my girls about it."</p> + +<p>"Not yet—not till you have seen father and Mr. +Storms come in to tea, as they are sure to do before long. +The neighbors are so anxious to know about it that I +want them to have it from good authority."<span class="pagenum">[81]</span></p> + +<p>Judith had not recovered from her first exasperation, +and spoke defiantly, not at all restrained by a latent fear +that her father might come alone.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Parsons had made her way to a window, where +the wren she had taken so much interest in was twittering +joyously among the vine-leaves.</p> + +<p>The great anxiety that possessed Judith drew her to +the window also, where she stood trembling with dread +and burning with wrath. She had been informed before +that damaging rumors were abroad with regard to Storms' +stolen visits, and it was agreed upon between her and the +young man that he should in some natural way seek out +old Mr. Hart, and thus obtain a legitimate right to visit +the house.</p> + +<p>The expectation of his coming that very afternoon had +induced Judith to brighten up her dreary old home with so +much care, and would make her triumph only the greater +if Mrs. Parsons was present to witness his approach.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "it is father and Mr. Storms I am +expecting to tea. You can see with your own eyes what +friends they are."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Parsons was not so deficient in curiosity that she +did not look eagerly through the vine-leaves, even holding +them apart with her own hands to obtain a good +view. She saw two persons coming down the lane, as +opposite in appearance as creatures of the same race could +be. Young Storms walked vigorously, swinging his cane +in one hand or dashing off the head of a thistle with it +whenever those stately wild-flowers tempted him with +their imperial purple.</p> + +<p>To the old man who came toiling after him this reckless +destruction seemed a cruel enjoyment. His gentle +nature shrunk from every blow, as if the poor flowers<span class="pagenum">[82]</span> +could feel and suffer under those cruel lacerations. He +could not have been induced to break the smallest blossom +from its roots in that ruthless fashion, but tore up +unseemly weeds in the garden gently and with a sort of +compassion, for the tenderness of his nature reached the +smallest thing that God has made.</p> + +<p>A slight man loaded down with hard work, stooping +in the shoulders, walking painfully beyond his usual +speed, Hart appeared as he struggled to keep up with +young Storms, who knew that he was weary and too old +for the toil that had worn him out, but never once offered +to check his own steps or wait for him to take breath.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is father and Mr. Storms. You can tell the +neighbors that; and tell them from me that he'll come +again, just as long as he wants to, and we want to have +him," said Judith, triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell the neighbors what I have seen, and nothing +more," answered the woman. "There's not one of them +that wishes you any harm."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, of course not!" was the mocking answer.</p> + +<p>The woman shook her head, half sorrowful, half in +anger.</p> + +<p>"Well, Judith, I won't say another word, now I see +that your father knows; but it is to be hoped he has +found out something better about the young man than +any of us has heard of yet."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Parsons tied her bonnet as she spoke, and casting +a wistful look on the table, hesitated, as if waiting for an +invitation to remain.</p> + +<p>But Judith was too much excited for any thought of +such hospitality; so the woman went away more angry +than she had ever been with that motherless girl +before.<span class="pagenum">[83]</span></p> + +<p>The moment she was gone Judith took her bowl of +blackberries, emptied them into the glass dish, heaping +them unevenly on one side to conceal a crack in the glass, +then ran into the hall, for she heard footsteps on the +porch, and her father's voice inviting some one to +walk in.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<p class="h3">JEALOUS PASSIONS.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>WALK</b> in, Mr. Storms. Judith will be somewhere +about. Oh, here she is!"</p> + +<p>Yes, there she was, lighting up the bare hall with the +rosy glow of her smiles, which, sullen as she strove to +make them, beamed upon the visitor quite warmly enough +to satisfy his insatiate vanity.</p> + +<p>"Daughter, this is Mr. Storms, a young gentleman +from the neighborhood of 'Norston's Rest,' come up the +valley on business. He was kind enough to walk along +the hill with me after I got through work, and when I +told him of the view, he wanted to see it from the house."</p> + +<p>Neither of the young people gave the slightest sign +that they had met before. Judith's smile turned to an +inward laugh as she made a dashing courtesy, and gave +the young man her hand the moment her father's back +was turned.</p> + +<p>Storms might have kissed the hand, while the old man +was hanging up his hat, but was far too prudent for anything +of the kind, though he saw a resentful cloud +gathering on the girl's face.<span class="pagenum">[84]</span></p> + +<p>The old man gave a quiet signal to Judith that she +should stop a moment for consultation, while their visitor +went out of the back-door, as if tempted by a glimpse of +the scenery in that direction.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't help asking him in, daughter, so you must +make the best of it. Is there anything in the house—anything +for tea, I mean? No butter, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is; I churned this morning."</p> + +<p>"You churned this morning! Why, what has come +over you, daughter?"</p> + +<p>"Dear me, what a fuss about a little churning! As +if I'd never done as much before!"</p> + +<p>The old man was so well pleased that he did not hint +that butter, made in his own house, seemed like a miracle +to him.</p> + +<p>"But bread—when did we have a baking?"</p> + +<p>"No matter about that. There are plenty of cakes, +raised with eggs, too."</p> + +<p>"That's capital," said the old man, throwing off a load +of anxiety that had oppressed him all the way home. +"We shall get along famously. The young man has got +uncommon education, you see, Judith, and it isn't often +that I get a chance to talk with any one given to reading; +so I want you to make things extra nice. Now I'll go +and see what can be found on the bushes."</p> + +<p>"I've picked all the berries, and got them in the dish, +father."</p> + +<p>"Why, Judith!"</p> + +<p>"You asked me to, or as good as that, so there's nothing +to wonder at."</p> + +<p>The old man drew a deep breath. A little kindness +was enough to make him happy, but this was overpowering.<span class="pagenum">[85]</span></p> + +<p>"So you picked 'em for the old man just as if <i>he</i> were +company, dear child!—dressed up for him, too!"</p> + +<p>Judith blushed guiltily. Her poor father was so easily +deceived, that she felt ashamed of so many unnecessary +falsehoods.</p> + +<p>"I dressed up a little because I wanted to be like +other girls."</p> + +<p>"I wish you could be more like other girls," said the +father, sighing, this time heavily enough; "but it's of +no use wishing, is it, child?"</p> + +<p>"I think that there is a great deal of use in it. If it +were not for hoping and wishing and dreaming day-dreams, +how could one live in this stupid place?"</p> + +<p>The old man looked at his child wistfully. It was so +many years since he had known a day-dream, that the +idea bewildered him.</p> + +<p>"It is so long since I was young," he said; "so very +long. Perhaps I had them once, but I'm not sure—I'm +not sure."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure that the cakes will burn up if I stand here +any longer," said Judith, on whom the sad pathos of her +father's words made no impression. "I'll put them on +the table at once. Call your friend in before they get +heavy."</p> + +<p>When the old man came in with Storms, he found +Judith standing by the table, which she was surveying +with no little pride. Unusual attempts had been made +to decorate the room. The fireplace was turned into a +tiny bower fairly set afire by a jar crowded full of great +golden-hearted marigolds, that glowed through the soft +greenness like flame.</p> + +<p>All this surprised and delighted the old man. He +turned with childlike admiration from the fireplace to<span class="pagenum">[86]</span> +the table, and from that to his daughter, who was now +casting stolen and anxious glances into the old mirror +opposite, over which was woven more delicate flowers, +with the sprays of some feathery plant, heavy and rich +with coral berries that scattered themselves in reflection +on the glass.</p> + +<p>The room was cool with shadows, but swift arrows of +gold came shooting from the sunset through the thick +vines, and broke here and there upon the floor, giving a +soft glow to the atmosphere which was not heat.</p> + +<p>The old man glanced at all this very proudly, and +when one of these arrows was shivered in his daughter's +hair he sat fondly admiring her; for to him she was +wonderfully beautiful.</p> + +<p>Young Storms looked at her also, with a little distrust. +There was something unnatural in her high color and in +the dashing nervousness of her movements as she poured +out the tea, that aroused his interest. Once or twice she +fixed her eyes upon him in a wild, searching fashion, +that made even his cold gray eyes droop beneath their +lids.</p> + +<p>At last they all arose from the table and gathered +around the window, looking out upon the sunset. It was +a calm scene, rich with golden haze near the horizon; +while the gap below was choked up with purple shadows +through which the river flowed dimly. Of those three +persons by the window, the old man was perhaps the +only one who thoroughly felt all the poetic beauty of the +scene; even to him the rural picture became more complete +when the only cow he possessed came strolling up +to the gate, thus throwing in a dash of life as she waited +to be milked.</p> + +<p>"I'll go out and milk her," said the old man. "You've<span class="pagenum">[87]</span> +had a good deal to attend to, daughter, and it is no more +than fair that I should help a little."</p> + +<p>Help a little! why it was not often that any one else +went near the poor beast for weeks together; but the old +man was pleased with all the girl had done, and covered +her delinquency with this kindly craft as he went into +the kitchen in search of a pail.</p> + +<p>The moment he was gone, Judith turned upon her +visitor.</p> + +<p>"Let us go down into the orchard; I want to speak +with you," she said.</p> + +<p>"Why not here?" questioned the young man, who +instinctively refused or evaded everything he did not +himself propose.</p> + +<p>"Because he may come back, and I want to be alone—quite +alone," said the girl, impatiently. "Come, I say!"</p> + +<p>There was something rudely imperative in the girl's +manner that forced him to go; but a sinister smile crept +over his face as he took his hat and followed her through +the back way down to the orchard, over which the +purple dusk was gathering, though flashes of sunlight +still trembled on the hill-tops.</p> + +<p>Judith did not accept the half-offered arm of the young +man, but walked by his side, her head erect, her hands +moving restlessly, and her black eyes, full of wistful fire, +now and then turning upon him.</p> + +<p>She leaped over the stone wall without help, though +Storms reached out his hand, and frowned darkly when +she refused it.</p> + +<p>Down to an old gnarled tree, bristling with dead limbs, +she led the way, and halted under its shadows.</p> + +<p>"What does this mean?" said Storms, in a cold, low +voice. "Why do you insist on bringing me here?"<span class="pagenum">[88]</span></p> + +<p>"Because of something that worries me," answered +Judith, trembling all over; "because I want to know +the truth."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if there is a girl in the world who has not +something to worry her?" said Storms, with smiling +sarcasm. "Well, now, what is the trouble? Have the +old magpies been picking you to pieces again?"</p> + +<p>"No, it isn't that, but something—I know it isn't true; +but it seems to me that I can never draw a long breath +till you've told me so over and over again—sworn to it."</p> + +<p>A shade of disturbance gathered on the young man's +face, but he looked at the girl, as she spoke, with sinister +coolness.</p> + +<p>"But you do not tell me what this dreadful thing is +that takes away your breath."</p> + +<p>"I—I know it is silly—"</p> + +<p>"Of course; but what is it?"</p> + +<p>"They tell me—I know it is an awful falsehood—but +they tell me that you are engaged!"</p> + +<p>"Well!"</p> + +<p>"Well!—you say 'well,' as if it were possible!" cried +the girl, looking wildly into his face.</p> + +<p>"All things are possible, Judith. But is this the only +thing that troubles you?"</p> + +<p>"Is not that enough—more than enough? Why do +you wait so long before denying it? Why do you look +so dark and keen, as if an answer to that slander needed +thought? Why don't you speak out?"</p> + +<p>"Because I want to know everything that you have +heard first, that I may deny it altogether."</p> + +<p>"Then you deny it, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Not till I have all the rest. When people are down +on a man, they do not often stop at one charge. What +is the next?"<span class="pagenum">[89]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, they amounted to nothing compared to this—just +nothing. Idling away time, spending money. I—I +don't remember! There was something, but I took no +heed. This one thing drove the rest out of my mind. +Now will you answer me?"</p> + +<p>"Answer me a question first."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what is it? Be quick! Have I not told you +that I cannot breathe?"</p> + +<p>"What do you care about the matter?"</p> + +<p>"What do I care?" repeated the girl, aghast.</p> + +<p>"Yes; why should you?"</p> + +<p>The same love of cruelty that made this man behead +thistles with his cane and set dogs to tear each other, +influenced him now. He revelled in the young creature's +anguish, and, being an epicure in malice, sought to prolong +it.</p> + +<p>How could the girl answer, with so much stormy surprise +choking back her utterance? This man, who had +spent so much time with her, who had flattered her as +if she had been a goddess, whose very presence had made +her the happiest creature on earth, was looking quietly +in her stormy face, and asking why she should care if he +were pledged to marry another!</p> + +<p>She could not speak, but looked at him in blank dismay, +her great black eyes wildly open, her lips quivering +in their whiteness.</p> + +<p>"You ask me that?" she said, at length, in a low, +hoarse voice—"you dare to ask me that, after—after—"</p> + +<p>"After what?" he said, with an innocent, questioning +look, that stung her like an insult.</p> + +<p>The girl had her voice now. Indignation brought it +back. But what could she say? In a thousand forms +that man had expressed his love for her; but never once<span class="pagenum">[90]</span> +in direct words, such as even a finer nature than hers +could have fashioned into a direct claim.</p> + +<p>The wrathful agony in her eyes startled the young man +from his studied apathy; but before he could reach out +his arms or speak, she lifted both hands to her throat +and fled downward toward the gap.</p> + +<p>This fierce outburst of passion startled the man who +had so coolly aroused it. He sprang after the girl, overtook +her as she came near the precipice, increasing her +speed as if she meant to leap over, and seizing her by the +waist, swung her back with a force that almost threw her +to the ground.</p> + +<p>"Are you crazy?" he said, as she stood before him, +fierce and panting for breath.</p> + +<p>"No," she answered, drawing so close to him that her +white face almost touched his; "but you are worse than +that—stark, staring mad, I tell you—when you expect +to even me with any other girl."</p> + +<p>"Even you with any other girl!" said Storms, really +startled. "As if any one ever thought of it! Why, one +would think you never heard of a joke before!"</p> + +<p>"A joke?—a joke?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you foolish child, you beautiful fiend—a joke +on my part, but something more with the miserable old +gossips that have gotten up stories to torment you. As +if you had not had enough of their lies!"</p> + +<p>Judith drew a deep breath, and looked at him with +all the pitiful intensity of a dumb animal recovering +from a blow.</p> + +<p>"They seemed to be in earnest. They said that you +were about to marry some girl of your mother's choosing."</p> + +<p>"Well, what then? That was reason enough why +you should have laughed at it."<span class="pagenum">[91]</span></p> + +<p>"But you hesitated. You looked at me with a wicked +smile."</p> + +<p>"No wonder. Who could help laughing at such folly?"</p> + +<p>"Folly—is it folly? Just now your face is pale, but +when I look at you a hot red comes about your eyes. I +don't like it—I don't like it!"</p> + +<p>"Is it strange that a sensible fellow can't help blushing +when the girl he loves makes a fool of herself?"</p> + +<p>Judith looked in that keen, sinister face with misgiving; +but Storms had gained full command of his countenance +now, and met her scrutiny with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Come, come," he said, "no more of this nonsense. +There isn't any such girl as you are dreaming of in the +world."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Richard, <i>are</i> you telling me the truth?" questioned +the girl, clasping her hands, and reaching them +out with a gesture of wild entreaty.</p> + +<p>"The truth, and nothing but the truth, on my honor—on +my soul!"</p> + +<p>A fragment of rock half imbedded in the earth lay +near Judith. She sunk down upon it, dashed both +hands up to her face, and burst into a wild passion of +weeping that shook her from head to foot.</p> + +<p>The young man stood apart, regarding her with mingled +astonishment and dismay. Up to this time she had +been scarcely more than an overgrown child in his estimation, +but this outgush of strength, wrath, and tears +bespoke something sterner and more unmanageable than +that—something that he must appease and guard against, +or mischief might come of it.</p> + +<p>He approached her with more of respect in his manner +than it had ever exhibited before, and said, in a low, +conciliatory tone:<span class="pagenum">[92]</span></p> + +<p>"Come, Judith, now that you know this story to be +all lies, what are you crying about? Don't you see that +it is getting dark? What will your father think?"</p> + +<p>Judith dashed the tears from her eyes, and, taking his +arm, clung to it lovingly as she went toward home.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">PROTEST AND APPEAL.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>FATHER</b>, father, do not ask me to meet him; from +the first it was an evil engagement, broken, or +should have been. Why do you wish to take it up +again?"</p> + +<p>Ruth Jessup, who made this appeal, stood in front of +her father, who had just told her that it had been arranged +that a speedy marriage should terminate the +engagement with Richard Storms—an engagement entered +into when she was scarcely more than a child. +"It was high time the thing was settled," he said, "while +neighbor Storms was pleased with his son and ready to +settle a handsome property on him. That, with the +money that would be hers in time, might enable them to +move among the best in the neighborhood."</p> + +<p>The girl listened to all this with a wild look in her +face, half-rebellion, half-terror. "No," she said, straining +her hands together in a passionate clasp, "you must +not ask me to take him. I could not love him—the very +idea is dreadful."</p> + +<p>"But, girl, you are engaged to him. My word is given—my +word is given."<span class="pagenum">[93]</span></p> + +<p>"But only on condition, father—only on the condition +of his amendment."</p> + +<p>"Well, the young man has come through his probation +like a gentleman, as he has a right to be. He just +rode by here on his bay horse, as fine a looking young +fellow as one need want for a son-in-law, lifting his hat +like a lord as he passed me. We may expect him here +to-night."</p> + +<p>"But, father, I will not see him. I—I cannot."</p> + +<p>The girl was pale and anxious; her eyes were eloquent +with pleading, her mouth tremulous.</p> + +<p>"And why not?"</p> + +<p>"Only I cannot—I never can like him again."</p> + +<p>The kind-hearted gardener sat down in the nearest +chair, and took those two clasped hands in his, looking +gravely but very kindly into the girl's troubled face.</p> + +<p>"Daughter," he said, "workingmen don't pretend to +fine sentiments, but we have our own ideas of honor, +and a man's word once given in good faith must be kept, +let the cost be what it may. I have given my word to +neighbor Storms. It must be honestly redeemed. You +made no objection then."</p> + +<p>"But, oh, father, I was so young! How could I know +what an awful thing I was doing?"</p> + +<p>"If it was a mistake, who but ourselves should suffer +for it, Ruth?"</p> + +<p>"But he went astray—his company was of the worst."</p> + +<p>"That is all changed and atoned for."</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, he was never a good son."</p> + +<p>"That, too, is changed; no man was ever more proud +of a son than neighbor Storms is now of this young man."</p> + +<p>The girl turned away and began to cry.<span class="pagenum">[94]</span></p> + +<p>"I thought you had given this up—that I should +never again be tormented with it! He seemed willing to +leave me alone; but now only three weeks after my godmother +has promised to give me her money he comes back +again! Oh, I wish she had promised it to some one +else!"</p> + +<p>"That is the very reason why we should fulfil our +obligations to the letter, Ruth. It must not be said that +a child of mine drew back from her father's plighted word +because her dower promised to be more than double anything +he had counted on when it was given."</p> + +<p>The girl's eyes flashed and her lips curved.</p> + +<p>"If it has made him more eager, I may well consider +it," she said; "and I think it has."</p> + +<p>"Shame on you, daughter! Such suspicions are unbecoming!"</p> + +<p>"I cannot help them, father; the very thought of this +man is hateful to me."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said the father, soothingly, but not the +less firm in his purpose; "the young man must plead +his own cause. I have no fear that he will find my child +unreasonable."</p> + +<p>The harassed young creature grew desperate; she followed +her father to the door of an inner room.</p> + +<p>"Father, come back, come back! It is cruel to put +me off so!"</p> + +<p>Ruth drew her father into the room again, and renewed +her protest with the passionate entreaties that had +been so ineffectual. In her desperation she spoke with +unusual energy, while now and then her sentences were +broken up with sobs.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, do not insist—do not force this marriage +upon me! It will be my death, my destruction! I detest +the man!"<span class="pagenum">[95]</span></p> + +<p>Jessup turned away from her. That sweet appealing +face made his heart ache.</p> + +<p>Ruth saw this look of relenting, and would not give +up her cause. She approached close to her father, and, +clinging to his arm, implored him, with bitter sobs, to +believe her when she said that this marriage would be +worse than death to her.</p> + +<p>"Hush, girl!" said the old man. "Hush, now, or I +may believe some hints that the young man has thrown +out of another person. No girl in these parts would refuse +a young fellow so well-to-do and so good-looking, if +she hadn't got some one else in her mind."</p> + +<p>This speech was rendered more significant by a look +of suspicion, which brought a rush of scarlet into the +daughter's face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, you are cruel!" cried the tortured young +creature, struggling, as it were, for her life.</p> + +<p>The old man turned away from this pathetic pleading; +nothing but a stern sense of honor, which is so strong in +some men of his class, could have nerved him against the +anguish of this appeal.</p> + +<p>"We have given our word, child; we have given our +word," he said. "Neither you nor your father can go +beyond that."</p> + +<p>The gardener's voice faltered and he broke away from +the trembling hands with which Ruth in her desperation +sought to hold him. For the first time in his life he +had found strength to resist her entreaties.<span class="pagenum">[96]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE HEART STRUGGLE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>HUMBLE</b> as Jessup's little dwelling was, there +hovered about it a spirit of beauty which would +have made even an uncouth object beautiful to an imaginative +person. The very wild things about the park +seemed to understand this: for the sweetest-toned birds +haunted its eaves, and the most timid hares would creep +through the tangled flower-beds and commit petty depredations +in the little vegetable-garden with a sense of perfect +security.</p> + +<p>As the dawn brightened into sunrise one fair June +morning a slight noise was heard in the house. The +door opened, and the gardener, in the strength of his +middle age, stout, fair-faced, and genial, came through, +carrying a carpet-bag in his hand. Directly behind him, +in the jasmine porch, stood his daughter, who seemed to +shrink and tremble when her father turned back, and, +taking her in his arms, kissed her twice upon the forehead +with great tenderness.</p> + +<p>"Take good care of yourself, child," he said, with a +look of kindly admonition, "and do not go too freely into +the park while I am away, if you would not wish to +meet any guest from the house."</p> + +<p>The girl grew pale rather than crimson, and tried to +cover her agitation by throwing both arms about her +father's neck, and kissing him with a passion of tenderness.</p> + +<p>"There! there!" said the man, patting her head, and +drawing his hand down the shining braids of her hair, +with a farewell caress. "I will be home again before bedtime;<span class="pagenum">[97]</span> +or, if not, leave a lamp burning, and a bit of +bread-and-cheese on the table, with a sup of ale; for I +shall be sore and hungry! One does not eat London +fare with a home relish."</p> + +<p>"But you will surely come?" said the girl, with +strange anxiety.</p> + +<p>"Surely, child. I never sleep well under any roof +but this."</p> + +<p>"But, perhaps—It—it may be that you will come in +an earlier train."</p> + +<p>"No, no! There will be none coming this way. So +do not expect me before ten of the night."</p> + +<p>A strange, half-frightened light came into the girl's +eyes, and she stood upon the porch watching the traveller's +receding figure as long as she could see him through +her blinding tears. Then she went into the house, cast +herself on a chair, and, throwing both arms across a +table, burst into a wild passion of distress.</p> + +<p>After a time she started up, and flung back the heavy +masses of hair that had fallen over her arms.</p> + +<p>"I cannot—I dare not!" she said, flinging her hands +apart, with desperate action. "He will never, never +forgive me!"</p> + +<p>For a time she sat drearily in her chair, with tears +still on her cheek, and hanging heavily on the curling +blackness of her eye-lashes. Very sad, and almost penitent +she looked as she sat thus, with her eyes bent on the +floor, and her hands loosely clasped. The rustic dress, in +which a peculiar red color predominated, had all the picturesque +effect of an antique painting; but the face was +young, fresh, and deeply tinted with a bright gipsy-like +richness of beauty, altogether at variance with her father's +form or features. Still she was not really unlike him.<span class="pagenum">[98]</span> +Her voice had the same sweet, mellow tones, and her +smile was even more softly winning.</p> + +<p>But she was not smiling now; far from it! A quiver +of absolute distress stirred her red lips, and the shadow +of many a painful thought swept her face as she sat there +battling with her own heart.</p> + +<p>All at once the old brass clock struck with the clangor +of a bell. This aroused the girl; she started up, in a +panic, and began to clear the table, from which her father +had eaten his early breakfast, in quick haste. One by one, +she put away the pieces of old blue china into an oaken +cupboard, and set the furniture in order about the room, +trembling all the time, and pausing now and then to +listen, as if she expected to be disturbed.</p> + +<p>When all was in order, and the little room swept clean, +the girl looked around in breathless bewilderment. She +searched the face of the clock, yet never gathered from it +how the minutes passed. She saw the sunshine coming +into the window, bathing the white jasmine-bells with a +golden light, and shrunk from it like a guilty thing.</p> + +<p>"I—I have time yet. He must not come here. I +dare not wait."</p> + +<p>The girl snatched up a little straw-hat, garlanded with +scarlet poppies, and hastily tied it on her head. In the +midst of her distress she cast a look into the small mirror +which hung upon the wall, and dashed one hand across +her eyes, angry with the tears that flushed them.</p> + +<p>"If he sees that I can weep, he will understand how +weak I am, and all will go for nothing," she said. "Oh, +God help me, here he is!"</p> + +<p>Sure enough, through the overhanging trees Ruth saw +young Hurst walking down along a path which ran along +the high banks of the ravine. He saw the gleam of her<span class="pagenum">[99]</span> +garments through the leaves, and came toward her with +both hands extended.</p> + +<p>"Ready so soon, my darling?" he exclaimed, with +animation. "I saw your father safe on the highway, +and came at once; but—but what does this mean? +Surely, Ruth, you cannot go in that dress?"</p> + +<p>"No, I cannot. Oh, Mr. Walton, I dare not so disobey +my father! He would never, never forgive me!"</p> + +<p>The young man drew back, and a flash of angry surprise +darkened his face.</p> + +<p>"Is it that you will disappoint me, Ruth? Have I +deserved this?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; but he trusts me!"</p> + +<p>"Have I not trusted you?"</p> + +<p>"But my father—my father?"</p> + +<p>"It is your father who drives us to this. He is +unrelenting, or that presumptuous wretch would not be +permitted to enter his dwelling. Has he dared to present +himself again?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, last night; but for that I might have lost all +courage, all power of resistance."</p> + +<p>"And you saw him? You spoke with him?"</p> + +<p>"Only in my father's presence. I would not see him +alone."</p> + +<p>"And after seeing him, you repent?"</p> + +<p>"No—no—a thousand times no. It is only of my +father I think. I am all that he has in the world!" +cried the girl, in a passion of distress.</p> + +<p>"Have I not considered this? Do I ask you to leave +him at once? One would think that I intended some +great wrong; that, instead of taking—"</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush, Mr. Walton! Do not remind me how +far I am beneath you. This is the great barrier which<span class="pagenum">[100]</span> +I tremble to pass. My father never will forgive me if +I dare to—"</p> + +<p>"Become the wife of an honorable man, who loves you +well enough to force him into saving his child from a +hateful marriage, at the price of deceiving his own +father."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! no! It is because you are so generous, so +ready to stake everything for me, that I hesitate."</p> + +<p>"No, it is because you fear the displeasure of a man +who has almost separated us in his stubborn idea of +honor. It is to his pride that my own must be sacrificed."</p> + +<p>"Pride, Walton?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for he is proud enough to break up my life and +yours."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Walton, this is cruel!"</p> + +<p>"Cruel! Can you say this, Ruth? You who trifle +with me so recklessly?"</p> + +<p>"I do not trifle; but I dare not—I dare not—"</p> + +<p>The young man turned aside with a frown upon his +face, darker and sterner than the girl had ever seen there +before.</p> + +<p>"You certainly never will trifle with me again," he +said, in a deep, stern voice, which made the heart in +the poor girl's bosom quiver as if an arrow had gone +through it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do not leave me in anger," she pleaded.</p> + +<p>He walked on, taking stern, resolute strides along the +path. She saw that his face was stormy, his gestures +determined, and sprang forward, panting for breath.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Walton, Walton, forgive me!"</p> + +<p>He looked down into her wild, eager face, gloomily.</p> + +<p>"Ruth, you have never loved me. You will be prevailed +upon to marry that hound."<span class="pagenum">[101]</span></p> + +<p>She reached up her arms, and flung herself on his +bosom.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Walton, I do—I do love you!"</p> + +<p>"Then be ready, as you promised. I have but a +moment to spare."</p> + +<p>"But my father!"</p> + +<p>"Is it easier to abandon the man who loves you, or to +offend him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Walton, I will go; but alone—I tremble to +think of it."</p> + +<p>"It is only for a few miles. In less than half an hour +I will join you. Be careful to dress very quietly, and +seem unconscious when we meet."</p> + +<p>"I will—I will! Only do not frown so darkly on +me again."</p> + +<p>The young man turned his fine blue eyes full upon her.</p> + +<p>"Did my black looks terrify you, darling?" he said, +with a smile that warmed her heart like a burst of sunshine. +"But you deserved it. Remember that."</p> + +<p>Ruth looked in the handsome face of her lover with +wistful yearning. While alone, with her father's kind +farewell appealing to her conscience, she had felt capable +of a great sacrifice; but with those eyes meeting hers, +with that voice pleading in her heart, she forgot everything +but the promise she had made, and the overwhelming +love that prompted it.</p> + +<p>The young man read all this in those eloquent features, +and would gladly have kissed the lips that still trembled +between smiles and tears; but even in that solitude he +was cautious.</p> + +<p>"Now, farewell for an hour or two, and then—"</p> + +<p>Ruth caught her breath with a quick gasp, and the +color flashed back to her face, vivid as flame.<span class="pagenum">[102]</span></p> + +<p>A noise among the trees startled them both. Young +Hurst turned swiftly, and walked away, saying, as he went:</p> + +<p>"Be punctual, for Heaven only knows when another +opportunity will offer."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">ONE RASH STEP.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>RUTH JESSUP</b> hurried into the house, ran breathlessly +to her chamber in the loft, and changed the +coquettish dress, which gave such picturesque brightness +to her beauty, for one of mingled gray and black. Not +a tinge of warm color was there to betray her identity. +Her small bonnet was covered by a veil so thick that no +one could clearly distinguish the features underneath. +In truth, her very air seemed changed, for graceful ease +had given place to a timid, hesitating movement, that +was entirely at variance with her character.</p> + +<p>She came down-stairs hurriedly, and rushed through +the little parlor, as if afraid that the very walls might +cry out against the act she meditated.</p> + +<p>Ruth avoided the great avenues and the lodge-gate, +but hurried by the most remote paths, through the deepest +shades of the park, until one brought her to a side-gate +in the wall, which she opened with a key, and let herself +out into the highway. There she stood, for some minutes, +with her hand on the latch, hesitating, in this +supreme moment of her life, as if she stood upon a precipice, +and, looking into its depths, recoiled with shuddering.<span class="pagenum">[103]</span></p> + +<p>It is possible that the girl might have returned even +then, for a pang of dread had seized upon her; but, while +she stood hesitating, a noise in the highway made her +leap back from the gate with a force that closed it against +her, and she stood outside, trembling from head to foot; +for, coming down the highway in a cloud of dust, she +saw a dog-cart, in which was Walton Hurst and a groom, +driving rapidly, as if in haste to meet some train. The +young man gave her one encouraging glance as he swept +by; the next moment the dog-cart had turned a curve of +the road, and was out of sight.</p> + +<p>Ruth felt now that her last chance of retreat was cut +off. With a feeling of something like desperation she +left the gate, and walked swiftly up the road. There +was no sense of fatigue in this young girl. In her wild +excitement, she could have walked miles on miles without +being conscious of the distance. She did, in fact, +walk on and on, keeping well out of sight, till she came +to a little depot, some three miles from "Norston's Rest." +There she diverged from her path, and, entering the +building, sat down in a remote corner, and waited, with +a feeling of nervous dread, that made her start and quiver +as each person entered the room.</p> + +<p>At last the train came up, creating some bustle and +confusion, though only a few passengers were in waiting. +Under cover of this excitement, Ruth took her seat in a +carriage, and was shut in with a click of the latch which +struck upon the poor girl's heart, as if some fatal turn of +a key had locked her in with an irretrievable fate.</p> + +<p>The train rushed on with a swiftness and force +that almost took away the girl's breath. It seemed +to her as if she had been caught up and hurled forward +to her destiny with a force no human will could resist.<span class="pagenum">[104]</span> +Then she grew desperate. The rush of the engine +seemed too slow for the wild desire that succeeded to her +irresolution. Yet it was not twenty minutes before the +train stopped again, and, looking through the window, +Ruth saw her lover leap from the platform and enter the +next carriage to her own.</p> + +<p>Had he seen her? Did the lightning glance cast that +way give him a glimpse of her face looking so eagerly +through the glass? At any rate, he was in the same +train with her, and once more they were hurled forward +at lightning speed, until sixty miles lay between them +and the mansion they had left.</p> + +<p>Once more the train stopped. This time a hand +whiter than that of the guard, was reached through the +door, and a face that made her heart leap with a panic +of joy and fear, looked into hers. She scarcely touched +this proffered hand, but flitted out to the platform, like +a bird let loose in a strange place. This was a way-side +station, and it happened that no person except those two +left the train at this particular point. Still they parted +like chance passengers, and there was no one to observe +the few rapid words that passed between them in the +small reception-room.</p> + +<p>When the train was out of sight, and all the bustle +attendant on its arrival had sunk into silence, these two +young persons entered a carriage that stood waiting, and +drove swiftly toward a small town, clouded with the +smoke of factories, that lay in the distance. Through +the streets of this town, and into another, still more +remote, they drove, and at last drew up in a small +village, to which the spire of a single church gave something +of picturesque dignity.</p> + +<p>To the door of this church the carriage went, after<span class="pagenum">[105]</span> +avoiding the inhabitable portion of the village by taking +a cross-road, which led through a neighboring moor. +Into the low-browed entrance Walton Hurst led the +girl. The church was dim, and so damp that it struck a +chill through the young creature as she approached +the altar, where a man, in sacred vestments, stood +with an open book in his hand, prepared for a solemn +ceremony.</p> + +<p>Two or three persons sauntered up to the church-door, +attracted by the unusual presence of a carriage in that +remote place, and some, more curious than the rest, came +inside, and drew, open-mouthed, toward the altar, while +the marriage ceremony was being performed.</p> + +<p>When the bride turned from the altar, shivering and +pale with intense excitement, two or three of these persons +secured a full view of her face, and never forgot it +afterward; for anything more darkly, richly beautiful +than her features had never met their eyes.</p> + +<p>Ruth was indeed lovely in this supreme moment of +her life. The pallor of concentrated emotion gave depth +and almost startling brilliancy to those great eyes, bright +as stars, and soft as velvet, which were for one moment +turned upon them. All else might have been forgotten +in after years; but that one glance was burnt like enamel +on more than one memory when Walton Hurst's marriage +was made known to the world.</p> + +<p>The vestry was dark and damp when they entered it, +followed by a grim old clerk, and at a more respectful distance +after them came three or four of the villagers, who +only saw the shadowy picture of a man and woman bending +over a huge book—the one writing his name with a +bold dash of the hand, the other trembling so violently +that for a moment she was compelled to lay the pen<span class="pagenum">[106]</span> +down, while she looked into her husband's face with a +pathetic plea for patience with her weakness.</p> + +<p>But the names were written at last, and the young +couple left the church in haste, as they had entered it—the +bride with a bit of paper held tightly in her hand, +the bridegroom looking happy and elated, as if he had +conquered some enemy.</p> + +<p>As they drove away, two or three of the villagers, who +had been drawn into the church, turned back from the +porch, and stole into the vestry where the clerk stood by +his open register, examining a piece of gold that had +been thrust into his hand, with a look of greedy unbelief.</p> + +<p>The clerk was saying,</p> + +<p>"See, neighbor Knox, it is gold—pure gold. Did any +one ever see the like? There is the face of Her Majesty, +plain as the sun in yon sky. Oh, if a few more such +rare windfalls would but come this way, my place would +be worth having."</p> + +<p>The sight of this gold only whetted the villagers' +curiosity to fresh vigor. They became eager to know +what great man it was who had come among them, with +such shadow-like stillness, leaving only golden traces of +his presence in the church; for the clerk hinted, with +glee, that the pastor had been rewarded fourfold for +his share in the ceremony. Then one after another of +these persons looked at the register. It chanced that the +record was made on the top of a blank page; thus the +two names were rendered more than usually conspicuous. +This was the record:</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Walton Hurst—Ruth Jessup.</span><br> +<span class="pagenum">[107]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">ON THE WAY HOME.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>MY</b> darling—my wife! Look up and tell me that +your joy is equal to mine," said Hurst, when he +and his bride were seated in the carriage. "No! that is +impossible; but say that you are happy, my Ruth!"</p> + +<p>"Happy!" said the girl. "Oh, Walton, it is cruel +that I can be so; but I am—I am!"</p> + +<p>The young man took her hands in his, and kissed +them with passionate warmth.</p> + +<p>"You will never repent, Ruth?"</p> + +<p>"Repent that I am your wife! That you—" Here +the girl's great earnest eyes fell and were shaded at once +by lashes black as themselves.</p> + +<p>"Well, darling, what more?"</p> + +<p>"That you are my husband."</p> + +<p>The word seemed to flood her heart with sunshine, +and her face with burning blushes. Its very sound was +full of exquisite shame. Hurst drew that face to his +bosom and kissed it with tender reverence.</p> + +<p>"Now, my beloved, we are all the world to each +other."</p> + +<p>"All, all," she murmured; "but, oh, what will my +father do?"</p> + +<p>"He can do nothing, Ruth. But that his word was +so rashly given, and his love for the old family so +near a religion, that his consent could never have been +attained, even though Sir Noel had himself commanded +it—there should have been no secrecy in this."<span class="pagenum">[108]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, if that had been possible! But Sir Noel never +would have seen his heir stoop as he has done for a +wife."</p> + +<p>"Sir Noel is not like other men of his class, my Ruth. +His pride is too noble for small prejudices. Besides, I +think he has suspected from the first how dear you are +to me; for in a conversation the other day he seemed to +hint at a vague approval. But for this I should not have +acted without his positive consent."</p> + +<p>"But my father never would have given <i>his</i> consent, +even if Sir Noel himself had commanded it," said Ruth. +"He would rather die than drag down the dignity of the +Hursts."</p> + +<p>"It was this stiff-necked integrity that forced me to a +step that will be more likely to anger Sir Noel than the +marriage itself would have done. One glimpse of the +truth would have aroused your father to drive me from +his house, dearly as he has always loved me. Then would +have come this question of young Storms—don't tremble +so—are you not my wife?"</p> + +<p>"I—I should have been compelled to marry him. He +loves me. My father would die for me any minute; but +were I fifty times as dear he would sacrifice me to the +dignity of the Hursts—to a promise once given," said +Ruth, lifting her face from the bosom where it had +rested.</p> + +<p>"But you?"</p> + +<p>"I could not have resisted. My father is so loving—so +kind. He would have told me of your grandeur, +your long descent, of the noble—nay, royal ladies—that +had been mated with the Hursts. He would have +crushed me under the weight of my own miserable presumption. +He would have told me, in plain speech,<span class="pagenum">[109]</span> +what my heart reproaches me with every minute now +most of all, when I am daring to be so happy."</p> + +<p>"But you are happy?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Walton, it seems like wickedness, but I am; so +weak, however, so fearful of what must come. Oh, give +me a little time! Permit me to dream a while until some +chance or great necessity makes concealment impossible. +I have no courage left."</p> + +<p>"But this Storms?"</p> + +<p>"I have got a little respite from my father; he will +not break his word, though I pleaded with him almost +upon my knees—but I am not to be hurried. They +are to give me time, and now, that I know in my heart +that it can never, never be, the terror of him is gone. So +let me have just one little season of rest before you break +this to my poor father, and make me afraid to look Sir +Noel in the face."</p> + +<p>Perhaps this sweet pleading found some answer in +the young man's wishes, for in speaking of Sir Noel's +conversation in the library, he had discovered how +little there was in it to warrant the step he had +taken. At the best there was much in his rash precipitancy +to displease the proud old baronet, though he +should be found willing to forgive the mésalliance he +had made.</p> + +<p>If these thoughts had great influence with Hurst, the +terror and troubled eloquence of his bride completed his +conviction. Drawing Ruth gently toward him, he kissed +her upon the forehead; for this conversation, coming into +the midst of their happiness, had subdued them both.</p> + +<p>"Be it as you wish, sweet wife. With perfect love +and trust in each other, we need be in no haste to let any +one share our secret."<span class="pagenum">[110]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, how kind you are!" exclaimed the girl, brightening +into fresh happiness. "This will give me time +to study, to add something to the education that will +be precious to me now; perhaps I can make myself less +unworthy of your father's forgiveness."</p> + +<p>"Unworthy?" answered Hurst, wounded, yet half +charmed by her sweet humility. "Sir Noel has always +looked upon you as a pretty favorite, whom it was a +pleasure to protect; and my cousin, the Lady Rose—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, how ungrateful, how forward she will think me! +My heart grows heavy when her name is mentioned."</p> + +<p>"She has always been your friend, Ruth."</p> + +<p>"I know—I know; and in return I have had the presumption +to think of making myself her equal."</p> + +<p>"There can be no presumption in the wife of a Hurst +accepting all that he has to give; but let us talk of +something else. If our happiness is to be a secret, we +must not mar its first dawning with apprehensions and +regrets. Some perplexities will arise, for our position +will be an embarrassing one; but there is no reason why +we should anticipate them. It will be difficult enough +to guard our secret so well that no one shall guess it."</p> + +<p>Ruth was smiling. She could not think it difficult to +keep a secret that seemed to her far too sweet and +precious for the coarser sympathy of the world. The +sacredness of her marriage was rendered more profound +by the silence that sanctified it to her mind.</p> + +<p>But now the carriage stopped, and the driver was +heard getting down from the box. Hurst looked out.</p> + +<p>They were in a village through which the railroad +passed—not the one they had stopped at. They had been +taken above that by a short route from the church, +which the driver had chosen without consultation.<span class="pagenum">[111]</span></p> + +<p>"So soon! Surely we are in the wrong place," said +Hurst, impatient that his happiness should be broken in +upon.</p> + +<p>"You seemed particular about meeting the down train, +sir, and I came the nearest way. It is due in five +minutes," answered the man, touching his hat.</p> + +<p>There was no time for expostulation or regret. In +fact, the man had acted wisely, if "Norston's Rest" was +to be reached in time to save suspicion. So the newly-married +pair separated with a hurried hand-clasp, each +took a separate carriage, and glided safely into dreamland, +as the train flew across the country at the rate +of fifty miles an hour.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE LADY ROSE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>NORSTON'S REST</b>" was brilliantly lighted, for +a dinner-party had assembled, when its heir +drove up in his dog-cart that night, and leaping out, threw +his reins to the groom, with some hasty directions about +to-morrow. It was near the dinner hour, and several fair +guests were lingering on the broad, stone terrace, or +shaded by the silken and lace curtains of the drawing-room, +watching for his return with that pretence of +graceful indifference with which habits of society veil the +deepest feeling.</p> + +<p>One fair creature retreated from the terrace, with a +handful of flowers which she had gathered hastily from +a stone vase, and carried away when the first sound<span class="pagenum">[112]</span> +of wheels reached her; but she lingered in a little room +that opened from the great hall, and seemed to be arranging +her flowers with diligence in a vase that stood on a +small malachite table, when young Hurst came in.</p> + +<p>Unconsciously, and against her own proud will, she +lifted her face from the flowers, and cast an eager glance +into the hall, wondering in her heart if he would care to +seek her for a moment before he went up to dress.</p> + +<p>The young man saw her standing there quite alone, +sweet and bright as the flowers she was arranging, and +paused a moment, after drawing off his gloves; but he +turned away and went up the broad, oaken staircase, with +the thoughts of another face, dark, piquant, and more +wildly beautiful, all bathed in blushes, too vividly in his +mind for any other human features to throw even a +shadow there.</p> + +<p>The Lady Rose dropped a branch of heliotrope and a +moss-rosebud, which had for one instant trembled in her +hand, as Hurst passed the door, and trod upon them +with a sharp feeling of disappointment.</p> + +<p>"He knew that I was alone," she muttered, "and +passed on without a word. He saw the flowers that he +loves best in my hand, but would not claim them."</p> + +<p>Tears, hot, passionate tears, stood in the lady's eyes, +and her white teeth met sharply for a moment, as if +grinding some bitter thing between them; but when +Hurst came down-stairs, fully dressed, he found her in +the drawing-room, with a richer bloom than usual on her +cheeks, and the frost-like lace, which fell in a little cloud +over the soft blue of her dress, just quivering with the +agitation she had made so brave an effort to suppress.</p> + +<p>As young Hurst came into the drawing-room, Sir +Noel, who had been talking to a guest, came forward in<span class="pagenum">[113]</span> +the calm way habitual to his class, and addressed his son +with something very like to a reproof.</p> + +<p>"We have almost waited," he said, glancing at the +young lady as the person most aggrieved. "In fact, the +dinner has been put back."</p> + +<p>The old man's voice was gentle and his manners suave; +but there was a reserved undertone in his speech that +warned the young heir of a deeper meaning than either +was intended to suggest.</p> + +<p>Hurst only bowed for answer.</p> + +<p>"Now that he has come," the baronet added, smiling +graciously on the young lady, but turning away from his +son, "perhaps we shall not be entirely unforgiving."</p> + +<p>Walton Hurst made no apology, however, but offered +his arm to Lady Rose, and followed his father's lead into +the dining-room.</p> + +<p>It was a spacious apartment, brilliantly illuminated +with gas and wax lights, which found a rich reflection +from buffets loaded with plate, and a table on which gold, +silver, and rare old glass gleamed and flashed through +masses of hot-house flowers. A slow rustle of silken +trains sweeping the floor, a slight confusion, and the party +was seated.</p> + +<p>During the first course Lady Rose was restless and +piqued. She found the person at her side so thoughtful +that a feeling of wounded pride seized upon her, and gave +to her manner an air of graceful defiance that at last drew +his attention.</p> + +<p>So Hurst broke from the dreaminess of his love reverie +and plunged into the gay conversation about him. Spite +of himself the triumphant gladness of his heart burst +forth, and in the glow of his own joy he met the half-shy, +half-playful attentions of the high-bred creature by<span class="pagenum">[114]</span> +his side with a degree of brilliant animation which +brought new bloom to her cheeks, and a smile of contentment +to the lips of the proud old man at the head of the +table. This smile deepened into a glow of entire satisfaction +when the gentlemen were left to their wine; for +then young Hurst made an excuse to his father, and, as +the latter thought, followed the ladies into the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Deep drinking at dinner-parties is no longer a practice +in England, as it may have been years ago. Thus it was +not many minutes before the baronet and his guests came +up-stairs to find the ladies gathered in knots about the +room, and one, at least, sitting in dissatisfied solitude near +a table filled with books of engravings, which she did +not care to open; for all her discontent had come back +when she thought herself less attractive than the wines +of some old vintage, stored before she was born.</p> + +<p>"But where is Walton?" questioned the old gentleman, +approaching the girl, with a faint show of resentment. +"Surely, Lady Rose, I expected to find him at +your feet."</p> + +<p>"It is a place he seldom seeks," answered the lady, +opening one of the books with assumed carelessness. "If +he has left the table, I fancy it must have been him I saw +crossing the terrace ten minutes ago."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel replied, incredulously:</p> + +<p>"Saw him crossing the terrace! There must have +been some mistake. I am sure he spoke of going to the +drawing-room."</p> + +<p>She hesitated.</p> + +<p>"He changed his mind, I suppose," she said at last, +with a slight but haughty wave of her hand toward a +great bay-window that looked out on the park. "I<span class="pagenum">[115]</span> +saw his face as he crossed that block of moonlight on the +terrace, I am quite sure. Perhaps—"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps what, Lady Rose?"</p> + +<p>"He has some business at the gardener's cottage. Old +Jessup is a favorite, you know," answered the lady, with +a light laugh, in which the old man discovered the bitterness +of latent jealousy.</p> + +<p>A hot, angry flush suffused the old man's face; but +this was the only sign of anger that he gave. The next +instant he was composed as ever, and answered her with +seeming indifference.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I remember; I had some orders for Jessup, +which he was thoughtful enough to take."</p> + +<p>The lady smiled again, now with a curve of distrustful +scorn on her red lips.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he failed in giving your message earlier, and +in his desire to please you has forsaken us."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," was the indifferent reply. Then the old +man moved quietly away, and speaking a gracious word +here and there, glided out of the room.</p> + +<p>Later in the evening, Lady Rose had left her book +of engravings, and stood shrouded in the sweeping draperies +of the great window, looking out upon the park. +Directly she saw the figure of her host gliding across the +terrace, which, in that place, seemed flagged with silver, +the moonlight lay so full upon it. The next moment he +was lost in the blackest shadows of the park.</p> + +<p>"He has gone to seek him! Now I shall know the +worst," she thought, while quick thrills of hope and +dread shot like lances through her frame. "I could not +stoop to spy upon him, but a father is different, and, +once on the alert, will be implacable."</p> + +<p>While these thoughts were in her mind, the girl gave<span class="pagenum">[116]</span> +a sudden start, and grasped at the silken curtains, while +a faint shivering came over her, that seemed like coming +death.</p> + +<p>For deep in the woods of the park, where the gardener's +cottage stood, she heard the sharp report of a gun.</p> + +<p>"Great Heaven! What can it mean?" she cried; +clasping her hands. "What can it mean?"</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">ALONE IN THE COTTAGE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>BREATHLESS</b> with apprehension, which was made +half joy by an undeniable sense of happiness, all +the more intense because it was gained by so much hazard, +Ruth Jessup—for she dared not breathe that new +name even to herself as yet—reached that remote gate in +the park-wall, and darted like a frightened hare into the +thick covert of the trees. There she lingered a while, holding +her breath with dread. It was scarcely dark, but to +her it seemed impossible that so few hours could have +passed since she had stolen from her home. Surely, +surely, her father must have returned. She would find +him standing in the park, ready to arraign and judge +her for the thing she had done; or he might come out to +find her wandering among the ferns, so happy, yet so +terrified, that she would like to stay there forever, like a +bird in sight of its nest, trembling while it watched over +its trust of love.</p> + +<p>The purple twilight was just veiling the soft, green<span class="pagenum">[117]</span> +gloom of the trees with its tender darkness. Now and +then a pale flash of gold shot through the leaves, giving +signs that the evening had but just closed in. Still the +girl hesitated. Almost, for the first time in her life, she +feared to meet her father face to face. The taste of forbidden +fruit was on her lips, tainted with the faint bitterness +of coming ashes.</p> + +<p>"I will go home—I must!" she said, rising from a +fragment of rock that had given her a seat among the +ferns. "There is yet a quiver of crimson in the air. It +cannot be ten yet!"</p> + +<p>The girl walked slowly and cautiously on until a +curve in the path brought her in sight of the cottage. +Then her pent-up breath came forth in a glad exclamation.</p> + +<p>"It is dark yet! No one has been there in all this +time!"</p> + +<p>Poor child! It seemed an age since she had left the +house, and a miracle that she should have found it so +still and solitary. When she entered the porch, the light +of a rising moon was trembling down to the honeysuckles +that clung to it, and a cloud of dewy fragrance seemed +to welcome her home again tenderly, as if she had no +deception in her heart, and was not trembling from head +to foot with vague apprehensions.</p> + +<p>Taking a heavy key from under one of the seats +which ran along each side of the porch, she opened the +door and went into her home again. The moonlight +came flickering through the oriel window, as if a bunch +of silver arrows had been shivered against it, half illuminating +the room with a soft, beautiful light. Ruth +would gladly have sat down in this tranquil gloom, and +given herself up to such dreams as follow a full certainty<span class="pagenum">[118]</span> +of being beloved, but the hoarse old clock twanged out +the hour with a force that absolutely frightened her. +She had not self-possession enough to count its strokes, +but shuddered to think the night had possibly reached +ten o'clock.</p> + +<p>She lighted a lamp, looked around to make sure that +nothing had been left that could betray her, then ran up-stairs, +flung off her sad-colored dress, set all her rich hair +free, and came down in the jaunty red over-dress and +black skirt that had given her beauty such picturesque +effect in the morning. All day she had been pale and +feverishly flushed by turns. Now a sense of safety gave +her countenance a permanent richness of color that would +have been dazzling in a broader light than that lamp +could give. She was under shelter in her own familiar +garment; could it be that all the rest was a dream? Had +she, in fact, been married?</p> + +<p>A quick, frightened gasp answered the question. The +lamp-light fell on a heavy circlet of new gold, that glittered +on her finger.</p> + +<p>Yes, it was there! His hand had pressed it upon +hers; his lips had kissed it reverently. Must she take +it off? Was there no way of concealing the precious +golden shackle, that seemed to hold her life in?</p> + +<p>That was impossible. That small, shapely hand had +never felt the touch of ornament or ring before. The +blaze of it seemed to light the whole room. Her father +would see it and question her. No, no! it must be hid +away before he came. She ran up-stairs, opened her +bureau-drawer, and began to search eagerly for a ribbon +narrow enough to escape attention. Knots of pink, and +streamers of scarlet were there neatly arranged, but nothing +that might answer her purpose, except a thread of<span class="pagenum">[119]</span> +black ribbon which had come out of her mourning two +years before, when her mother died.</p> + +<p>Ruth snatched this up and swung her wedding-ring +upon it, too much excited for superstition at the moment, +and glad to feel the perilous gift safe in her bosom.</p> + +<p>Now all was hidden, no trace of her fault had been +left. She might dare to look at the old clock.</p> + +<p>It lacked an hour and more of the time at which she +might expect her father. Well, fortunately, she had +something to do. His supper must be prepared. She +would take good care of him now. He should lack +nothing at her hands, since she had given him such +grievous cause of offence.</p> + +<p>With these childlike ideas of atonement in her mind, +Ruth took up a lamp, and going into the kitchen, kindled +a fire; and spreading a white cloth on the table, set out +the supper her father had desired of her. When the +cold beef and mustard, the bread and cheese, were all +daintily arranged, she bethought herself of his most +favored dish of all, and taking a posset-dish of antique +silver from the cupboard, half filled it with milk, which +she set upon the coals to boil. Into this she from time +to time broke bits of wheaten bread, and when the milk +was all afoam, poured a cup of strong ale into it, which +instantly resolved the whole mass into golden whey and +snow-white curd.</p> + +<p>As Ruth stooped over the posset-cup, shading her face +with one hand from the fire, and stirring its contents +gently with a spoon, a noise at the window made her +start and cry out with a suddenness that nearly upset the +silver porringer.</p> + +<p>"Who is it? What is it?" she faltered, looking at +the window with strained eyes. "Oh, have mercy! +That face, that face!"<span class="pagenum">[120]</span></p> + +<p>Before she could move away from the hearth, some +one shook the window-sash so violently, that a rain of +dew fell from the ivy clustering around it.</p> + +<p>Ruth stood appalled; every vestige of color fled from +her face; but she gave no further sign of the terror that +shook her from head to foot. Directly the keen, handsome +face that had peered through the glass disappeared, +and the footsteps of a man walking swiftly sounded back +from the gravel path which led to the front door.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">A STORMY ENCOUNTER.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>RUTH</b> held her breath and listened. She heard the +door open, and footsteps in the little passage. +Then her natural courage aroused itself, and lifting the +posset-cup from the coals, she left it on the warm hearth, +and met the intruder at the kitchen door.</p> + +<p>"Is it you?" she said, with a quiver of fear in her +voice. "I am sorry father is not at home."</p> + +<p>"But I am not," answered the young man, setting +down a gun he had brought in, behind the door. "It +was just because he wasn't here, and I knew it, that I +came in. It is high time, miss, that you and I should +have a talk together, and no father to put in his word +between pipes."</p> + +<p>"What do you want? Why should you wish to speak +with me at this time of night?"</p> + +<p>"Why, now, I like that," answered the young fellow, +with a laugh that made Ruth shudder. "Well, I'll just<span class="pagenum">[121]</span> +come in and have my say. There mayn't be another +chance like this."</p> + +<p>Richard Storms turned and advanced a step, as if he +meant to enter the little parlor, but Ruth called him back. +It seemed to her like desecration, that this man should +tread on the same floor that Hurst, her husband—oh, +how the thought swelled her heart!—had walked over.</p> + +<p>"Not there," she said. "I must mind my father's +supper. He will be home in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't much care; the kitchen seems more +natural. It is here that we used to sit before the young +master found out how well-favored you are, as if he +couldn't find comely faces enough at the house, but must +come poaching down here on my warren."</p> + +<p>"Who are you speaking of? I cannot make it out," +faltered Ruth, turning cold.</p> + +<p>"Who? As if you didn't know well enough; as if I +didn't see you and him talking together thick as two bees +this very morning."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" protested Ruth, throwing out both her +hands. "You could not—you did not!"</p> + +<p>"But I did, though, and the gun just trembled of itself +in my hand, it so wanted to be at him. If it hadn't been +that you seemed offish, and he looked black as a +thunder-clap, I couldn't have kept my hand from the +trigger."</p> + +<p>"That would have been murder," whispered the girl, +through her white lips.</p> + +<p>"Murder, would it? That's according as one thinks. +What do men carry a gun at night for, let me ask you, +but to keep the deer and the birds safe from poachers? +If they catch them at it, haven't they a right to fire? +Well, Ruth, you are my game, and my gun takes care<span class="pagenum">[122]</span> +of you as keepers protect the deer. It will be safe to +warn the young master of that!"</p> + +<p>"I do not know—I cannot understand—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you don't, ha!" broke in the young man, throwing +himself into a chair and stretching out his legs on the +hearth. "Well, then, I'll tell you a secret about him +that'll take the starch out of your pride. You're not the +only girl with a pretty face that brings him among my +covers!"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, ha! Oh, ho! That wakes you up, does it? +I thought so. Nothing like a swoop of spite to bring a +girl out of cover."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand you," said Ruth, flashing out +upon her tormentor with sudden spirit. "What have I +to do with anything you are talking about?"</p> + +<p>"The other lass, you mean. Not much, of course. It +isn't likely he put her in your way."</p> + +<p>A burst of indignation, perhaps of something more +stinging than that, filled the splendid eyes with fire that +Ruth fixed upon her tormentor.</p> + +<p>"Do you know—can you even guess that it is my—my—!"</p> + +<p>The girl broke her imprudent speech off with a thrill +of warning that left the prints of her white teeth on the +burning lips which had almost betrayed her. In her +terror the insult that followed was almost a relief.</p> + +<p>"Sweetheart!" sneered the young man.</p> + +<p>She did not heed the word or sneer; both were a proof +that her secret was safe as yet.</p> + +<p>"One up at the house, one here, and another—well, +no matter about her. You understand?"</p> + +<p>"You slander an honorable gentleman," said Ruth, +controlling herself with a great effort.<span class="pagenum">[123]</span></p> + +<p>"Do I? Ask the Lady Rose, if she ever stoops to +speak to you."</p> + +<p>"She is a sweet, gracious lady," broke in Ruth, magnanimous +in her swift jealousy. "A great lady, who +refuses speech or smile to no one."</p> + +<p>"Ask her, then, who was out on the terrace this evening, +before he came home, robbing the great stone vases +of their sweetest flowers for his button-hole!"</p> + +<p>Ruth lifted one hand to her bosom, and pressed the +golden ring there close to her heart.</p> + +<p>Then turning to the young man, who was watching +her keenly, she said, with composure:</p> + +<p>"Well, why should you or I ask such questions of +the young lady? I would no more do that than spy +upon her, as you have done!"</p> + +<p>Storms looked at her keenly from under his bent brows, +and his thin lips closed with a baffled expression.</p> + +<p>"Off the scent," he thought. "What is it? She was +hot on the chase just now. Has she really doubled on +him?"</p> + +<p>"It needs no spying to see what goes on up there," he +answered, after a moment, waving his head toward the +great house. "Grand people like them think we have +neither eyes nor ears. They pay us for being without +them, and think we earn our wages like dumb cattle. +Just as if sharpness went with money. But we do see +and hear, when they would be glad to think us blind and +dumb!"</p> + +<p>The girl made no answer. She longed to question the +creature she despised, and had a fierce struggle with her +heart, until more honorable feelings put down the swift +cravings of jealousy that were wounding her heart, as +bees sting a flower while rifling it of honey.<span class="pagenum">[124]</span></p> + +<p>The young man watched her cunningly, but failed to +understand her. The jealousy which made him so cruel +had no similitude with her finer and keener feelings. He +longed to see her break out in a tirade of abuse, or to +have her question him broadly, as he wished to answer.</p> + +<p>Ruth did nothing of the kind. In the tumult of feelings +aroused by his words she remembered all that had +been done that day, and, with sudden vividness of recollection, +the promise of caution she had made to her husband.</p> + +<p>Her husband! She pressed her hand against her +bosom, where the wedding-ring lay hid, and a glorified +expression came to her face as she turned it toward the +firelight, absolutely forgetful that a hateful intruder +shared it with her.</p> + +<p>Richard Storms was baffled, and a little saddened by +the strange beauty in the face his eyes were searching.</p> + +<p>"Ruth!" he said at length. "Ruth!"</p> + +<p>The girl started. His voice had dragged her out of a +dream of heaven. She looked around vaguely on finding +herself on earth again, and with him.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, impatiently, "what would you say +to me?"</p> + +<p>"Just this: when is it to be? I am really tired of +waiting."</p> + +<p>"Tired of waiting!" said Ruth, impatiently. "Waiting +for what?"</p> + +<p>"Why, for our wedding-day. What else?"</p> + +<p>The proud blood of an empress seemed to flame up +into the girl's face; a smile, half rage, half scorn, curved +her lips, which, finally, relaxed into a clear, ringing +laugh.</p> + +<p>"You—you think to marry me!" was her broken exclamation, +as the untoward laugh died out.<span class="pagenum">[125]</span></p> + +<p>The young man turned fiery red. The scornfulness +of that laugh stung him, and he returned it with interest.</p> + +<p>"No wonder you ask," he said, with a sharp, venomous +look, from which she shrunk instinctively. "It +isn't every honest man that would hold to his bargain, +after all these galivantings with the young master."</p> + +<p>Ruth turned white as snow, and caught hold of a chair +for support. Her evident terror seemed to appease the +tormentor, and he continued, with a relenting laugh, +"Don't be put about, though. I'm too fond to be +jealous, because my sweetheart takes a turn now and then +in the moonlight when she thinks no one is looking."</p> + +<p>"Your sweetheart! Yours!"</p> + +<p>Storms waved his hand, and went on.</p> + +<p>"Though, mind me, all this must stop when we're +married."</p> + +<p>Ruth had no disposition to laugh now. The very +mention of Hurst had made a coward of her. Storms +saw how pale she was, and came toward her.</p> + +<p>"There, now, give us a kiss, and make up. It's all +settled between father and the old man, so just be conformable, +and I'll say nothing about the young master."</p> + +<p>As the young man came toward her, with his arms +extended, Ruth drew back, step by step, with such fright +and loathing in her eyes that his temper rose again. +With startling suddenness he gave a leap, and, flinging +one arm around her, attempted to force her averted face +to his.</p> + +<p>One sharp cry, one look, and Ruth fell to the floor, +quivering like a shot bird.</p> + +<p>She had seen the door open, and caught one glimpse of +her husband's face. Then a powerful blow followed, and +Richard Storms went reeling across the kitchen, and +struck with a crash against the opposite wall.<span class="pagenum">[126]</span></p> + +<p>Ruth remembered afterward, as one takes up the painful +visions of a dream, the deadly venom of those eyes; +the gray whiteness of that aquiline face; the specks of +foam that flew from those half-open lips. She saw, too, +the slow retreat during which those threatening features +were turned upon her husband. Then all was blank—she +had fainted away.</p> + +<p>For some moments it seemed as if the girl were dead, +she lay so limp and helpless on her husband's bosom; +but the burning words that rose from his lips, the kisses +he rained down upon hers, brought a stir of life back to +her heart. Awaking with a dim sense of danger, she +clung to him, shivering and in tears.</p> + +<p>"Where is he? Oh, Walton! is he gone?"</p> + +<p>"Gone, the hound! Yes, darling, to his kennel."</p> + +<p>"Ah, how he frightened me!"</p> + +<p>"But how dare he enter this house?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell—only—only my father has not come +home yet. Oh, I—I hate him. He frightens me. He +threatens me."</p> + +<p>"Threatens you! When? How?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Walton! he has seen us together. He will bring +you into trouble."</p> + +<p>"Not easily."</p> + +<p>"Your father?"</p> + +<p>"Is not a man to listen to the gossip of his servants."</p> + +<p>Ruth drew a deep breath. Walton had concealed his +real anxiety so well, that her own fears were calmed.</p> + +<p>"Come, come," he said; "we must not let this hind +embitter the few minutes I can spend with you. Look +up, love, and tell me that you are better."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I am; but he frightened me so."</p> + +<p>"And now?"<span class="pagenum">[127]</span></p> + +<p>Hurst folded the fair girl in his arms, and smoothed +her bright hair with a caressing hand.</p> + +<p>"Now!" she answered, lifting her mouth, which had +grown red again, and timidly returning his kisses. "Now +I am safe, and I fear nothing. Oh, mercy! Look!"</p> + +<p>"What? Where?"</p> + +<p>"The window! That face at the window!"</p> + +<p>"It is your fancy, darling. I see nothing there."</p> + +<p>"But I saw it. Surely I did. His keen, wicked face. +It was close to the glass."</p> + +<p>"There, there! It was only the ivy leaves glancing +in the moonlight."</p> + +<p>"No, no! I saw it. He is waiting for you."</p> + +<p>"Let him wait. I shall not stir a step the sooner or +later for that."</p> + +<p>Ruth began to tremble again. Her eyes were constantly +turning toward the window. She scarcely heard +the words of endearment with which Hurst strove to +reassure her. All at once the old clock filled the house +with its brazen warning. It was ten o'clock. The girl +sprang to her feet.</p> + +<p>"It is time for my father to come. He must not find +you here."</p> + +<p>Hurst took his hat, and glancing down at his dinner +dress, remembered that he would be missed from the +drawing-room. Once more he enfolded the girl in his +arms, called her by the new endearing name that was so +sweet to them both, and finally left her smiling through +all her fears.</p> + +<p>Ruth stole to the little oriel window, and watched her +husband as he turned from the moonlight and entered +the shadows of the park. Then she went back to the +kitchen and busied herself about the fire.<span class="pagenum">[128]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">AN ENCOUNTER.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>WHEN</b> Richard Storms left the gardener's cottage, +he dashed like a wild beast into the densest +thickets of the forest, and tore his way through toward +his own home. It gave him a sort of tigerish pleasure +to tear at the thickets with his fierce hands, and trample +the forest turf beneath his iron-shod heels, for the rage +within him was brutal in its thirst for destruction. All +at once he stopped short, seemed to remember something +and turned back, plunging along at a heavy but +swift pace, now through the shadows, now in the moonlight, +unconscious of the quiet beauty of either.</p> + +<p>It took him but a brief time to reach the cottage, +around which he pondered a while, stealing in and out of +the tangled vines which hung in thick draperies around +the building. At last Ruth saw his face at the kitchen +window, and gave a sharp cry that drove him away, +more fiercely wrathful than ever, for he had seen the +creature he worshipped after a rude fashion giving +caresses to another, that he would have gone on his +grovelling knees to have secured to himself.</p> + +<p>"Jessup promised my father that I should wed her, +and it has come to this," he grumbled fiercely, as if +tearing the words between his teeth. "On the night I +had set aside to win an answer for myself, the young +master hustles me out of the door like a dog, and takes +the kennel himself. He thinks I am not man enough +to bark back when he kicks me, does he? He shall see! +He shall see! Bark! Nay, my fine fellow, it shall be<span class="pagenum">[129]</span> +biting this time. A growl and a snap isn't enough for +kicks and blows."</p> + +<p>The wrath of this man was less fiery now, but it +had taken a stern, solid strength, more dangerous than +the first outburst of passion. He sought no particular +path as he left the house, but stamped forward with +heavy feet, as if he were trampling down something that +he hated viciously, now and then gesticulating in the +moonlight, till his very shadow seemed to be fighting its +way along the turf.</p> + +<p>All at once he came upon another man, who had left +the great chestnut avenue, and turned into a side path, +which led to the gardener's passage. The two men +stopped, and one spoke cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Why, good-night, Dick. This is late to be out. +Anything going wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Wrong!" said the other, hoarsely. "Yes, wrong +enough to cost a man his life some day. Go up yonder, +and ask your daughter Ruth what it is. She'll tell, no +doubt—ask her!"</p> + +<p>Richard Storms, after flinging these words at his +father's friend, attempted to push by him on the path; +but Jessup stood resolutely in his way.</p> + +<p>"What is all this, my lad? Nay, now, you haven't +been to the cottage while I was away, and frightened the +girl about what we were talking of. I should take that +unfriendly, Dick. Our Ruth is a bit dainty, and should +have had time to think over such matters."</p> + +<p>"Dainty! I should think so. She looks high in her +sweethearting; I must say that for her."</p> + +<p>"What is it you are saying of my daughter?" cried +Jessup, doubling his great brown fist, unconsciously.</p> + +<p>"I say that a man like me has a chance of getting<span class="pagenum">[130]</span> +more kicks than kisses when he seeks her," answered +Dick, with a sneer.</p> + +<p>"And serves him right, if he dared to ask such things +of her mother's child," said Jessup, growing angry.</p> + +<p>"But what if he only asked, honest fashion, for an +honest wife, as I did, and got kicks in return?"</p> + +<p>"Kicks! Why, man, who was there to give them, +and I away?" questioned the gardener, astonished.</p> + +<p>"One who shall pay for it!" was the answer that +came hissing through the young man's lips.</p> + +<p>"Of course, one don't give kicks and expect farthings +back; but who has got up pluck to try this with you, +Dick? He must be mad to dare it."</p> + +<p>"He is mad!" answered Storms, grinding his teeth. +"Mad or not, no man but the master's son would have +dared it."</p> + +<p>"The master's son! Are you drunk or crazy, Dick +Storms?"</p> + +<p>"I almost think both. Who can tell?" muttered +Dick. "But it's not with drink."</p> + +<p>"The master's son! but where—when?"</p> + +<p>"At your own house, where he has been more than +once, when he thought sure to find Ruth alone."</p> + +<p>"Dick Storms, this is a lie."</p> + +<p>Dick burst into a hoarse laugh.</p> + +<p>"A lie, is it? Go up yonder, now. Walk quick, and +you'll see whether it is the truth or not."</p> + +<p>Jessup rushed forward a step or two, then came back, +as if ashamed of the action.</p> + +<p>"Nay, there is no need. I'll not help you belie my +own child."</p> + +<p>"Belie her, is it? I say, Bill Jessup, not half an +hour ago, I saw Ruth, your daughter, with her head on<span class="pagenum">[131]</span> +the young master's bosom, and her mouth red with his +kisses. If you don't believe this, go and see for yourself."</p> + +<p>The florid face of William Jessup turned to marble in +the moonlight, and a fierce, hot flame leaped to his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I will not walk a pace quicker, or be made to spy +on my girl, by anything you can say, Dick; not if it were +to save my own life; but I like you, lad—your father +and I are fast friends. We meant that, by-and-by, you +and Ruth should come together."</p> + +<p>Storms flung up his head with an insulting sneer.</p> + +<p>"Together! Not if every hair on her head was +weighed down with sovereigns. I am an honest man, +William Jessup, and will take an honest woman home +to my mother, or take none."</p> + +<p>Before the words left his lips, Richard Storms received +a blow that sent him with his face upward across +the forest path; and William Jessup was walking with +great strides toward his own cottage.</p> + +<p>It was seldom that Jessup gave way to such passion as +had overcome him now, and he had not walked a +dozen paces before he regretted it with considerable +self-upbraiding.</p> + +<p>"The lad is jealous of every one that looks at my lass, +and speaks out of range because she is a bit offish +with him. Poor darling, she has no mother; and the +thought of marrying frightens her. It troubles me, too. +Sometimes I feel a spite toward the lad, for wanting to +take her from me. It makes me restless to think of it. +I wonder if any living man ever gave up his daughter to +a sweetheart without a grip of pain at the heart? I think +it wasn't so much the mad things he said that made my +fist so unmanageable, for that come of too much drink, +of course; but since he has begun to press this matter, +I'm getting heartsore about losing the girl."<span class="pagenum">[132]</span></p> + +<p>With these thoughts in his mind, Jessup came within +sight of his own home, and paused in front of it.</p> + +<p>How cool and pleasant it looked in the moonlight, +with the shadowy vines flickering over it, and a golden +light from the kitchen window brightening the dew upon +them into crystal drops! The very tranquillity soothed +the disturbed man before he entered the porch.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if it'll ever be the same again when she is +gone," he said, speaking his thoughts aloud, and drawing +the hand that had struck down young Storms across his +eyes. "No, no; I must not expect that."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<p class="h3">FATHER AND DAUGHTER.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>RUTH</b> did not come forth to receive her father. This +was strange, for a trip to London, with these simple +people, was a great event, and it seemed to Jessup as if +he had been gone a year.</p> + +<p>When he entered the kitchen, Ruth was busy at the +table moving the dishes with unsteady hands; but when +he spoke, she came forward with breathless eagerness, +and made herself very busy taking off his dusty things, +which she shook, and folded with wonderful care.</p> + +<p>Spite of his utter disbelief in the coarse accusations +made by Storms in the park, Jessup watched his daughter +anxiously. It seemed to him that she looked paler than +usual, and that all her movements were suspiciously restless. +Besides this, he observed, with a sinking heart, that +her eyes never once met his with their own frank smile.<span class="pagenum">[133]</span></p> + +<p>Could it be that there was some shadow of truth in +what Storms had said? He would not believe it.</p> + +<p>"Come, father, the posset is ready. I have been keeping +it warm."</p> + +<p>Ruth stood on the hearth then, with the antique silver +posset-cup, which had been his grandmother's, in her +hand. The firelight was full upon her, concealing the +pallor of her face with its golden flicker. Surely there +could be nothing wrong under that sweet look.</p> + +<p>The gardener gave a great sigh of relief as he accepted +this thought, and his anger toward Dick Storms grew +deep and bitter.</p> + +<p>"Come, lass," he said, with more than usual affection, +"sit down here by my side. The posset is rare and +good; while I eat it, you shall tell me of all that has +been done since I went away."</p> + +<p>All that had been done since he went away! Would +Ruth ever dare to tell her father that? The very thought +sent up a rush of blood to her face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! there is little to be done when you are +away. I did not even care to cook my own supper."</p> + +<p>"Ah! well, take it now, child," said the good man, +pouring half his warm posset into an old china bowl, +and pushing it toward her.</p> + +<p>"No, no, father, I am not hungry. I think the cooking +of food takes away one's appetite."</p> + +<p>"Nay, eat. It is lonesome work, with no one to help +me," said the father, who certainly had no cause to complain +of his own appetite. Ruth stirred the posset languidly +with her spoon, and strove to swallow a little; +but the effort almost choked her. It might be fancy; +but she could not help thinking that her father was furtively +regarding her all the time, and the idea filled her +with dismay.<span class="pagenum">[134]</span></p> + +<p>Something of the same feeling possessed her father. +Inherent kindness made him peculiarly sensitive, and he +did not know how to question his daughter of the things +that disturbed him, without wounding her and himself too.</p> + +<p>In this perplexity, he ate with that ravenous haste +which sometimes springs from an unconsciousness of +what we are doing when under the pressure of great +mental excitement. He was astonished when his spoon +scraped on the bottom of that silver posset-cup. He sat +for a moment embarrassed and uncertain how to begin. +Where the feelings of his daughter were concerned, Jessup +was a coward; to him she had been, from her very +babyhood, a creature to worship and care for with a sort +of tender reverence. So, with cowardice born of too +much love, he thought to cheat himself, and bade her +bring the little carpet-bag that had been his companion +to London, and which he had dropped near the door.</p> + +<p>Ruth, glad of anything that promised to distract her +mind from its anxieties, brought the bag, and stood over +her father while he unlocked it.</p> + +<p>"See, child," he said, taking out a parcel done up in +filmy paper, "I have brought some fill-falls from London, +thinking my lass would be glad of them. Look, now!"</p> + +<p>Here Jessup unrolled a ribbon, which streamed half +across the room, as he shook out its scarlet waves.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that something like, now?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is beautiful!" cried the girl, with true feminine +delight. "My dear, dear father!"</p> + +<p>"I remembered—but no matter about that. My little +Ruth is like a rose, and must have color like one. See +what I have brought to go with the ribbon."</p> + +<p>"White muslin," cried Ruth, in an ecstasy of delight. +"Fine enough for the Lady Rose. How beautifully the<span class="pagenum">[135]</span> +scarlet sash will loop it up! Oh, father, who told you +how well these things would go together?"</p> + +<p>"I guessed it one day when the Lady Rose came here +with a lot of stuff like that, puffed and looped with a +ribbon bright as the field-poppies about her. You didn't +know then, my lass, that your father felt like crying too, +when he saw tears in his child's eyes, because she craved +a fine dress and bonny colors for herself, and never +thought to get it. There, now, you must get the best +seamstress in the village to make it."</p> + +<p>"No, no! I will make it with my own hands. Oh, +father! father! how good, how kind you are!"</p> + +<p>Dropping the sash and the muslin from her hold, Ruth +threw her arms around Jessup's neck, and, bursting into +tears, laid her head upon his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"So, so! That will never do," cried the kind-hearted +man, smoothing the girl's hair with his great hand, +tenderly, as if he were afraid his very fondness might +hurt her. "If you cry so, I shall turn the key, and lock +all the other things up."</p> + +<p>Ruth lifted her sweet face, all bedewed with penitent +tears, and laid it close to the weather-beaten cheek of the +man.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! don't be so good to me! It breaks my +heart!"</p> + +<p>Jessup took her face between his hands, and kissed it +on the forehead, then pushed her pleasantly on one side, +and thrust his hand into the bag again. This time it was +drawn forth with a pretty pair of high-heeled boots, all +stitched with silk, and circled about the ankles with a +wreath of exquisite embroidery.</p> + +<p>"There, now, we will leave the rest till to-morrow," +he said, closing the box with a mysterious look. "Only +say that you are pleased with these."<span class="pagenum">[136]</span></p> + +<p>"Pleased! Oh, father, it is the dress of a lady!"</p> + +<p>"Well, even so. One day my Ruth may be next door +to that," said Jessup, putting forth all his affectionate +craft. "Farmer Storms is a warm man, and Dick is his +only son. It is the lad's own right if he sometimes +brings his gun and shoots our game—his father has an +interest in it, you know. The master has no right over +his farm, and birds swarm there."</p> + +<p>Jessup stopped suddenly, for Ruth stood before him +white and still as marble, the ribbon which she had taken +from the floor streaming from her hand in vivid contrast +with the swift pallor that had settled upon her.</p> + +<p>"Lass! Ruth, I say! What has come over you?" +cried out the gardener, in alarm. "What have I done +to make you turn so white all in a minute?"</p> + +<p>"Done! Nothing, father—nothing!" gasped the girl.</p> + +<p>"But you are ill!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little; but nothing to—to trouble you so."</p> + +<p>Ruth stood a moment after this, with one hand on her +temple, then she turned, with a show of strength, to her +father.</p> + +<p>"What were you saying just now about farmer Storms, +and—and his son? I don't think I quite understood, +did I?"</p> + +<p>Jessup was now almost as white as his daughter. Her +emotion kindled up a gleam of suspicion, which had +hung about him in spite of himself, though he had left +Richard Storms prostrate across the forest path for having +inspired it.</p> + +<p>"Ruth, has not Dick Storms told you to-night that +both he and his father are getting impatient to have you +at the farm?" he questioned, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Dick—Dick Storms, father!"<span class="pagenum">[137]</span></p> + +<p>"I ask you, Ruth. Has he been here, and did he tell +you?"</p> + +<p>"He was here, father," faltered the girl.</p> + +<p>"And he asked you?"</p> + +<p>"He asked me to be his wife," answered the girl, with +a shudder.</p> + +<p>"Well!"</p> + +<p>"His wife at once; and you promised that he should +not come until I was better prepared. Oh, father, it was +cruel. He seemed to take it for granted that I must be +whatever he wished."</p> + +<p>"That was ill-timed; but Dick has been kept back, +and he is so fond of you, Ruth."</p> + +<p>"Fond of me? Of me? No, no! The thought is +awful."</p> + +<p>"It was his loving impatience that broke forth at the +wrong time. Nothing could be worse; but you were not +very harsh with him, Ruth?"</p> + +<p>"I could not help it, father, he was so rude."</p> + +<p>"Hang the fellow! I hope he won't get over the +buffet I gave him in one while. The fool should have +known better than treat my daughter with so little +ceremony. She is of a daintier sort than he often mates +with. He deserves all he has gotten from her and from +me."</p> + +<p>While these thoughts were troubling Jessup's mind, +Ruth stood before him with tears swelling under her eyelids, +till the long, black lashes were heavy with them. +They touched the father's heart.</p> + +<p>"Don't fret, child. A few hasty words in answer to +over rough wooing can easily be made up for. The +young man was sorely put about; but I rated him +soundly for coming here when I was away. He will +think twice before he does it again."<span class="pagenum">[138]</span></p> + +<p>"He must never do it again. Never—never!" cried +Ruth, desperately. "See to that, father. He never +must."</p> + +<p>"Ruth!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, do not ask me ever to see this man again. +I cannot—I cannot!"</p> + +<p>"Hush, child—hush! It is only a quarrel, which +must not break the compact of a lifetime. Till now, you +and Dick have always been good friends."</p> + +<p>"Have we? I don't know. Not lately, I'm sure; +and we never, never can be anything like friends again."</p> + +<p>"Ruth!"</p> + +<p>The girl lifted her great wild eyes to her father, and +dropped them again. She was too much terrified for +tears now.</p> + +<p>"Ruth, was any person here to-night beyond Dick?"</p> + +<p>The girl did not answer. She seemed turning to stone. +Her silence irritated the poor man, who stood watching +like a criminal for her reply. He spoke more sharply.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear me, Ruth?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I hear."</p> + +<p>"I asked if any one was here besides Dick?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Jessup could hardly hear this little word as it dropped +painfully from those white lips; but he understood it; +and spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Who was it, Ruth?"</p> + +<p>"Young Mr. Hurst."</p> + +<p>"He was here, then. What brought him?"</p> + +<p>"He came—he came—"</p> + +<p>"Well!"</p> + +<p>"He did not tell me why he came, father. It was all +too sudden; and he was very angry."<span class="pagenum">[139]</span></p> + +<p>"Too sudden? Angry? How?"</p> + +<p>"Dick Storms frightened me so, and Mr. Hurst saw +it, just as he came in. I could have struck him myself, +father!" cried the girl, and her pale face flamed up with +a remembrance of the indignity offered her.</p> + +<p>Jessup clenched his fist.</p> + +<p>"Why, what did the young man do?"</p> + +<p>"He would not believe that his offer was hateful to +me, and—and acted as if I had said yes."</p> + +<p>"I understand. The idiot! But he must have been +drinking, Ruth."</p> + +<p>"I don't know, and I only hope you will never let +him come here again."</p> + +<p>"But he will be sorry, Ruth. You must not be too +hard on the young fellow."</p> + +<p>"Hard upon him? Oh, father!"</p> + +<p>"He has had a tough lesson. But young Hurst—what +did he do?"</p> + +<p>"I can hardly tell you, it was so sudden and violent. +All in a minute Dick was hurled against the wall, and +through the door. Then there was a struggle, deep, +hoarse words, and Dick was gone."</p> + +<p>"Was that all?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all that passed between Mr. Hurst and Dick. +There was no time for talking."</p> + +<p>"And after that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what Dick did."</p> + +<p>"But Mr. Hurst?"</p> + +<p>"He—he stayed a while. I was so frightened, so—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, he stayed a while. That was kind."</p> + +<p>"Very kind, father!"</p> + +<p>"Ruth," said the gardener, struggling with himself to +speak firmly, and yet with kindness, "there was something<span class="pagenum">[140]</span> +more. After Dick left, or before that, did Mr. +Hurst—that is, were you more forgiving to him than +you were to Storms?"</p> + +<p>"I—I do not understand, father."</p> + +<p>She does understand, thought Jessup, turning his eyes +away from her burning face, heart-sick with apprehension. +Then he nerved himself, and spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Ruth, I met Dick in the park, and he made a strange +charge against you."</p> + +<p>"Against me!"</p> + +<p>"He says that insults greater than he would have +dared to offer, but for which he was kicked from my +door, were forgiven to young Mr. Hurst. Nay, that +you encouraged them."</p> + +<p>"And you believed this, father?" questioned the girl, +turning her eyes full upon those that were searching her +face with such questioning anxiety.</p> + +<p>"No, Ruth, I did not want to believe him; but how +happened it that the young master came here so late at +night?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! Why do you question me so sharply?"</p> + +<p>The panic that whitened Ruth's face, the terror that +shook her voice, gave force to the suspicion that poor +man had been trying so hard to quench. It stung him +like a serpent now, and he started up, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"With one or the other, there is an account to be +settled before I sleep."</p> + +<p>William Jessup seized his cap and went out into the +park, leaving Ruth breathless with astonishment. She +stole to the window, and looked after him, seized with +uncontrollable dread. How long she sat there Ruth +could never tell; but after a while, the stillness of the +night was broken by the sharp report of a gun.<span class="pagenum">[141]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE TWO THAT LOVED HIM.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>ACROSS</b> one of the moonlit paths of the park lay the +form of a man, with his face turned upward, +white and still as the moonbeams that fell upon it. A +little way farther on, where the great boughs of a cedar +of Lebanon flung mighty shadows on the forest sward, +another figure lay, scarcely perceptible in the darkness, +of which it seemed only a denser part. Between the +two, some rays of light struck obliquely on the lock of a +gun, which was half buried in dewy fern-leaves.</p> + +<p>One sharp crack of that rifle had rung through the +stillness of the night. Two men had fallen, and then +the same sweet, calm repose settled on the park. But it +was only for a minute.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had the sound reached the gardener's cottage, +when the door flew open, and dashing out through the +porch came a young girl, white with fear, and wild with +a terrible desire to know the worst. She had given one +look behind the entrance-door as she fled through it, and +saw that the gun which Richard Storms had left there +was gone. She had seen it since he went, and its absence +turned her fears to a panic.</p> + +<p>Through a window of the drawing-room, up at "Norston's +Rest," another figure rushed in wild haste. She +ran blindly against one of the great marble vases on the +terrace, and shook the sweet masses of dew-laden foliage +till they rained a storm of drops upon her bare arms and +soft floating garments.</p> + +<p>For a moment Lady Rose, for it was she, leaned against<span class="pagenum">[142]</span> +the marble, stunned and bewildered. The shot she had +heard in the depths of the park had pierced her heart +with a terrible fear.</p> + +<p>Then she knew that, for a time, the music within had +ceased, and that the company would be swarming that +way, to irritate her by questions that would be a cruel +annoyance while the sound of that shot was ringing in +her ears.</p> + +<p>Swift as lightning, wild as a night-hawk, the girl +darted away from the vase, leaving a handful of gossamer +lace among the thorns of the roses, and fled down the +steps. She took no path, but, guided by that one sound, +dashed through the flower-beds, heedless that her satin +boots sunk into the moist mould, wetting her feet at every +step; heedless that her cloud-like dress trailed over grass +and ferns, gathering up dew like rain; heedless of everything +but that one fearful thought—some one was killed! +Was it Walton Hurst?</p> + +<p>Lady Rose was in the woods, rushing forward blindly, +but jealous distrust had taught her the way to the cottage, +and she went in that direction straight as an arrow +from the bow, and wild as the bird it strikes. Coming +out from the shadow of some great spreading cedar trees, +she saw lying there in the path a man—a white, still +face—his face.</p> + +<p>It seemed to her that the shriek which tore her heart +rang fearfully through the woods, but it had died on her +lips, and gave forth no sound, only freezing them to ice as +she crept toward the prostrate man, and laid her face to his.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Walton! Oh, my beloved, speak to me! Only +breathe once, that I may hear. Move only a little. +Stir your hand. Don't—don't let the moonlight look +into your eyes so! Walton, Walton!"<span class="pagenum">[143]</span></p> + +<p>She laid her cold, white hand over the wide-open eyes +of the man as he lay there, so stiff and ghastly, in the +moonlight. She turned his head aside, and hid those +eyes in her bosom, in which the ice seemed to melt and +cast off tears. She looked around for help, yet was afraid +that some one might come and rob her. She had found +him; he was there in her arms. If one life could save +another, she would save him. Was she not armed with +the mightiest of all earthly power—great human love?</p> + +<p>Wild, half-frightened by the impulse that was upon +her, the girl looked to the right and left as if she feared +the very moonlight would scoff at her. Then, with +timid hesitation, her lips sought the white mouth of the +prostrate man, but her breath was checked with a shrinking +sob. The cold touch terrified her.</p> + +<p>Was he dead?</p> + +<p>No, no! She would not believe that. There was no +sign of violence upon his face; a still whiteness, like +death, a fixed look in the open eyes; but the moisture +that lay around him was only dew. She bathed her +hand in it and held the trembling fingers up to the light, +to make sure of that; and with the conviction came a +great sob of relief, which broke into a wild, glad cry, for +a flicker of shade seemed to tremble over that face, and +the eyes slowly closed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God be thanked! he is alive! My darling! +Oh, my darling!"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" cried another voice, at her side.</p> + +<p>A shadow had fallen athwart the kneeling girl, and +another face, more wildly pale, more keenly disturbed +with anguish, looked down upon the prostrate man, and +the young creature who crouched and trembled by his +side.<span class="pagenum">[144]</span></p> + +<p>"Look up, woman, and let me see your face," said +Ruth Jessup, in a voice that scarcely rose above a whisper, +though it was strong in command.</p> + +<p>Lady Rose drew herself up, and lifted her piteous face +as if appealing for compassion.</p> + +<p>"You!" exclaimed Ruth.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ruth Jessup, it is I, Lady Rose. We will not +be angry with each other, now that he is dead."</p> + +<p>"Dead!" repeated Ruth, "and you the first by his +side? Dead? Oh, my God! my God! Has our sin +blasted us both?"</p> + +<p>Down upon the earth this poor girl sunk, wringing +her hands in an agony of distress. Still Lady Rose +looked at her with touching appeal. She had not comprehended +the full force of Ruth's speech, though the +words rested in her brain long after.</p> + +<p>"Lay your hand on his heart," she said. "I—I dare +not."</p> + +<p>Ruth smiled a wan smile, colder than tears; still there +was a faint gleam of triumph in it.</p> + +<p>"No!" she said. "You should not dare."</p> + +<p>Then the girl thrust her trembling hand down to the +bosom her head had so lately rested upon, and leaning +forward, held her breath, while Lady Rose eagerly +searched her features in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"Is—is there nothing?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>Ruth could not answer. Her hand shook so fearfully, +that its sense of touch was overwhelmed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, speak to me!"</p> + +<p>"Hush! I shake so! I shake so!"</p> + +<p>Lady Rose bent her head and waited. At last a deep, +long breath broke from Ruth, and a flash of fire shot +from her eyes.<span class="pagenum">[145]</span></p> + +<p>"Give me your hand; I dare not trust myself," she +whispered.</p> + +<p>Seizing the hand which lay helplessly in Lady Rose's +lap, she pressed it over the heart her own had been +searching, and fixed her eager eyes on the lady's face for +an answer.</p> + +<p>As a faint fire kindles slowly, that fair face brightened +till it shone like a lily in the moonlight. As Ruth +looked, she saw a scarcely perceptible smile stealing +over it. Then the lips parted, and a heavy sigh broke +through.</p> + +<p>"Is it life?" whispered Ruth. "Tell me, is it life?"</p> + +<p>Lady Rose withdrew her hand.</p> + +<p>"Yes, faint. Oh! so faint, but life."</p> + +<p>Then both these girls broke into a swift passion of +tears, and clung together, uttering soft, broken words +of thanksgiving. Ruth was the first to start from this +sweet trance of gratitude.</p> + +<p>"What can we do? He must be carried to the house. +Ho, father! father!"</p> + +<p>She ran up and down the path, crying out wildly, but +no answer came. The stillness struck her with new +dread. Where was her father, that he could not hear +her cries? Who had done this thing! Could it be +he?</p> + +<p>"No, no!—a thousand times, no! But then—"</p> + +<p>She went back to Lady Rose, whose hand had nestled +back to that poor, struggling heart.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't we carry him, you and I? We must have +help," Ruth said, a little sharply, for the position of +the lady stung her.</p> + +<p>The question surprised Lady Rose; for never in her +life had she been called upon to make an exertion. But<span class="pagenum">[146]</span> +she started to her feet and flung back the draperies from +her arms.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he might die here. Let us save him. 'The +Rest' is not so far off."</p> + +<p>"'The Rest?' No, no; our cottage is nearest. He +might die before we could get him to 'The Rest.' My +father will be there. Oh, I am sure my father will be +there!"</p> + +<p>Ruth spoke eagerly, as if some one had disputed her.</p> + +<p>"He will be coming this way," she added, "and so +help us. Come, come, let us try!"</p> + +<p>Before the two girls could test their strength, footsteps +were heard coming along the path.</p> + +<p>"It is my father. Oh, now he can be carried to the +cottage in safety."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">BOTH HUSBAND AND FATHER.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>THE</b> two girls stood up and listened. The footsteps +came forward swiftly, and with a light touch of +the ground; too light, Ruth felt, with a sinking heart, +for the heavy tread of her father. She had not the +courage to cry out now. It seemed as if some one were +coming to take that precious charge from her forever. +This fear broke into a faint exclamation when she saw +Sir Noel Hurst coming toward them more swiftly than +she had ever seen him walk before. Without uttering a +word, he came up to where the young man was lying, +and bent over him in dead silence, as if unconscious that +any other human being was near.<span class="pagenum">[147]</span></p> + +<p>"He is not dead! Oh, Sir Noel, his heart beats. +Don't—don't look so! He is not dead!"</p> + +<p>"Lady Rose," said the baronet, "you heard—"</p> + +<p>The lady shrank back, and faltered out—</p> + +<p>"Yes; I heard a shot, and it frightened me."</p> + +<p>The baronet made no answer, but bent over his son. +The faint signs of life that Lady Rose had discovered +were imperceptible to him. But habitual self-command +kept his anguish down, and in a low, grave voice, he +bade Ruth, whose presence he had not otherwise noticed, +run to the mansion, and call help at once.</p> + +<p>Ruth obeyed. Her nearest path led under the great +cedar trees, where the blackest shadows fell, and she +darted that way with a swift step that soon carried her +into the darkness. But all at once came a cry out from +the gloom, so sharp, so full of agony, that Sir Noel +started up, and turned to learn the cause.</p> + +<p>It came in an instant, out from the blackness of the +cedars; for there Ruth appeared on the edge of the +moonlight, pallid, dumb, shivering, with her face half +averted, waving her hand back to the shadow.</p> + +<p>"What is it? What has frightened you so?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Look! look! I cannot see his face; but I know—I +know!" she gasped, retreating into the darkness.</p> + +<p>Sir Noel followed her, and there, lying as it seemed on +a pall flung downward by the huge trees, lay the body of +a man perfectly motionless.</p> + +<p>"My father! Oh, my poor father!" cried the girl, +falling down among the shadows, as if she sought to +engulf herself in mourning.</p> + +<p>"Be quiet, child. It may not be your father," said +the baronet, still controlling himself into comparative +calmness.<span class="pagenum">[148]</span></p> + +<p>Ruth arose in the darkness, and crept toward the body. +Her hand touched the hard, open palm that lay upon the +moss where it had fallen. She knew the touch, and clung +to it, sobbing piteously.</p> + +<p>"Let me go and call help," said Lady Rose, coming +toward the cedars.</p> + +<p>"No," answered Sir Noel. "That must not be. This +is no place for Lady Rose Hubert. The poor girl +yonder has lost all her strength; it is her father, I +greatly fear. Stay by him until you see lights, or know +that help is coming. Then retire to the gardener's cottage. +We must have no careless tongues busy with your +name, Lady Rose."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel strove to speak with calmness; but a shiver +ran through his voice. He broke off abruptly, and, +turning down the nearest path, walked toward "The +Rest."</p> + +<p>Meantime, there was bitter sorrow under the great +cedar trees; low, pitiful moaning, and the murmurs of a +young creature, smitten to the heart with a consciousness +that the awful scene, with its train of consequences, had +been her own work. She crept close to the man, afraid +to touch him with her guilty fingers, but, urged on by a +faint hope that he was not quite dead, she felt, with +horror, that there was something heavier than dew on +the bed of moss where he lay, and that for every drop of +her father's blood she was responsible. Still she crept +close to him, and at last laid both hands upon his +shoulder. There was a vague motion under her hands, +as if a wince of pain made the flesh quiver.</p> + +<p>"Oh, if some one would help me. What can I do! +What can I do!" she moaned, striving to pierce the +darkness with her eyes. "Oh, father! father!"<span class="pagenum">[149]</span></p> + +<p>"Ruth!"</p> + +<p>The sound of that name was not louder than a breath +of summer wind; but the girl heard it, and fell upon her +face, prostrated by a great flood of thankfulness. She +had not killed him; he was alive. He had spoken her +name.</p> + +<p>Directly the sound of voices swept that way, and the +great cedar trees were reddened with a glare of torches, +and a streaming light from lanterns. Then Lady Rose, +who had been sitting upon the ground with Walton +Hurst's head resting on her lap, bent down softly, kissed +the white forehead, and stole away from all traces of +light. Sir Noel had been thoughtful for her. She +could not have borne that the eyes of those menial helpers, +or their masters either, should see her ministering to +a man who, perhaps, would hold her care, as he might +her love, in careless indifference.</p> + +<p>Yes, Sir Noel was right. She must not be found +there.</p> + +<p>Down through the trees she went, looking wistfully +back at the figure left alone in the moonlight, tempted +to return and brave everything, rather than leave him +alone. But the torches came up fast and redly, hushed +voices broke the stillness that had seemed so deathlike, +and, envying that other girl, who was permitted to +remain, the lady stole toward the cottage, and sinking +down upon the porch, listened to the far-off tumult with +a dull pain of the heart which death itself could hardly +have intensified.</p> + +<p>It was well that Lady Rose had fled from the path, +along which some thirty men were coming—gentlemen +in evening dress, gamekeepers and grooms, all moving +under the torch-light, like a funeral procession.<span class="pagenum">[150]</span></p> + +<p>With the tenderness of women, and the strength of +men, they lifted Walton Hurst from the ground, and +bore him toward the house. Ruth rose up in the darkness +of the cedars, and saw him drifting away from her, +with the red light of the torches streaming over the whiteness +of his face, and then fell down by her father, moaning +piteously.</p> + +<p>By-and-by the torch-lights flashed and flamed under +the cedars, lighting up their great, drooping branches, +like a tent under which a wounded or perchance dead +man was lying prone upon his back, with his strong arms +flung out, and a slow ripple of blood flowing from his +chest.</p> + +<p>The torch-bearers took little heed of the poor girl, who +had crept so close to her father that her garments were +red with his blood, but lifted the body up with less +reverential care than had marked the removal of the +young master, but still not unkindly, and bore it away +toward the house. Ruth arose, worn out with anguish, +and followed in silence, wondering that she was alive to +bear all this sorrow.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Lady Rose that hours and hours had +passed since she had sheltered her misery in that low +porch, and this was true, if time can be measured by feeling. +It was even a relief when she saw that little group +of menials bearing the form of the gardener along the +forest-path, which was slowly reddened by lanterns and +half-extinguished torches. In the midst of this weird +scene came Ruth Jessup, holding fast to her father's hand, +with her pallid face bowed down, creeping, as it were, +along the way, as if all life had been smitten from her.</p> + +<p>A sort of painful pity seized upon Lady Rose, as she +saw this procession bearing down upon the cottage. She<span class="pagenum">[151]</span> +could not look upon that poor girl without a sensation of +shrinking dislike. Had not Hurst been on his way to +her when he met with this evil fate? Had he not almost +fled from her own presence to visit this beautiful rustic, +whose desolation seemed so complete? Yes, she pitied +the poor young thing; what woman could help it? But, +underlying the pity, was a feeling of subdued triumph, +that only one wounded man was coming that way.</p> + +<p>All at once the girl started from her seat.</p> + +<p>"They must not find me," she thought. "Sir Noel +did not think of this when he bade me seek shelter here. +I will go! I will go!"</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">WAS IT LIFE OR DEATH?</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>JUST</b> as the lights crept up to the front paling, and +began to cast a glow on the flowers inside, Lady +Rose stole out from the porch, threaded a lilac thicket, +which lay near a back gate, and let herself into a portion +of the park which was strange to her. For a while she +stood bewildered, not knowing the direction she ought to +take. Then a flash of distant lights, shooting through +the trees, revealed the position in which "The Rest" lay +from the cottage; and taking the very path Ruth had +sought in the morning, she hurried along it, so sheltered +by the overhanging trees, that she might have passed +unobserved, but for the flutter of her garments, and the +glint of her jewels, as the moonbeam struck them now +and then, in her progress.<span class="pagenum">[152]</span></p> + +<p>"Does he breathe yet? Will the motion put out that +one spark of life, before he reaches home? Shall I never +see him again?"</p> + +<p>The thought gave a wild, abnormal strength to the girl. +She no longer felt fatigue. The faint dread at her heart +was swept away with a more powerful force of suffering. +She must know for herself.</p> + +<p>Swiftly as these thoughts swept through her brain, they +scarcely matched the speed of her movements. Gathering +up the long skirts that encumbered her feet, she fairly +flew along the path, panting with impatience rather than +fear, as each step brought her closer to those lighted windows. +All at once she sprang aside with a sharp cry, and +turned, like an animal at bay, for, in a dark hollow, into +which the path dipped, the figure of a man stopped her.</p> + +<p>The shriek that broke from Lady Rose seemed to +exasperate the black shadow, which had a man's form, +that moved heavily. This was all the frightened girl +could see; but, in an instant, a low, hoarse voice broke +from it, and her hand was seized with a fierce grasp.</p> + +<p>"So you have found it out. So much the better. +Both down, and one answerable for the other. Famous +end to a day's sweethearting, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"What is this? What do you mean? Take your +hand from my wrist," cried the lady, in sharp alarm.</p> + +<p>"Not so easy, my lady, that would be. Some things +are sweeter than revenge, though that tastes rarely, when +one gets a full cup. I thought you would be coming this +way, and waited to meet you."</p> + +<p>"Meet me? For what?" faltered the lady, shivering.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no wonder your voice shakes, till one hardly +knows it again," answered the man. "If anything can +drive the heart back from your throat, it might be the<span class="pagenum">[153]</span> +grip of my hand on your arm. You never felt it so +heavy before, did you, now? Can you guess what it +means?"</p> + +<p>"It means that you are a ruffian—a robber, perhaps, +no matter which. Only let me go!"</p> + +<p>"A ruffian! Oh, yes; I think you said that once +before; but I warn you. Such words cut deep, and work +themselves out in an ugly way. Don't attempt to use +them again, especially here. It isn't a safe spot; and +just now I ain't a safe man to sneer at."</p> + +<p>"Why do you threaten me? What have I done to +earn your ill-will?" faltered the lady, shuddering; for +the man had drawn so close to her as he spoke, that his +breath swept with sickening volume across her face, and +his hand clinched her wrist like a vice.</p> + +<p>"What have you done? Ha! ha! How innocent +she is! How daintily she speaks to the ruffian—the +robber!"</p> + +<p>"I was rash to call you so; but—but you frightened +me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I am always frightening you. A kiss from +me is worse than a bullet from some one we know of."</p> + +<p>"Hush, sir! I cannot bear this!"</p> + +<p>"Don't I know that you could bear me well enough, +till he came along with his silky beard and soft speech? +Then I became a ruffian—a robber. Well, now, what +you wouldn't give at any price, I mean to take."</p> + +<p>"There is no need. I give them to you freely. Unclasp +the bracelet. It is heavy with jewels. Then free +my hand, and I will take the locket from my neck. +Trust me; I will keep nothing back."</p> + +<p>"Bracelets, lockets, jewels! What are you thinking +of? Dash me, but I think you have gone crazy. Undo<span class="pagenum">[154]</span> +your bracelet, indeed. When did you come by one, I +should like to know?"</p> + +<p>"It is on my wrist. Oh, if a ray of moonlight could +only strike down here."</p> + +<p>"On your wrist? What, this heavy shackle? Stay, +stay! How soft your hand is. Your dress rustles like +silk. Your voice has changed. Woman, who are you?"</p> + +<p>"Take the jewels. Oh, for pity's sake, unlock them, +and let me go."</p> + +<p>The hand that held that delicate wrist so firmly +dropped it, the dark body swerved aside, and Richard +Storms plunged down the path. Swift as a lapwing +Lady Rose sped up the hill through the shrubberies, +nearest "The Rest," and at last stood panting within the +shadows of the terrace, where a solitary man was walking +up and down with mournful slowness.</p> + +<p>"It is Sir Noel," she said, as the moonlight fell on his +white face. "God help us! It looks as if he had been +with death!"</p> + +<p>Gliding noiselessly up the steps, Lady Rose met the +baronet as he turned in his walk.</p> + +<p>"Tell me! oh, tell me!" she faltered, coming close to +him, and breaking off in her speech.</p> + +<p>"He is alive, my child."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"The doctors are with him now."</p> + +<p>"So soon—so soon!" exclaimed the lady, seizing upon +a desperate hope from the doctor's presence.</p> + +<p>"I came out here for breath. It was so close in the +rooms," said the baronet, gently.</p> + +<p>Lady Rose glanced at the house. It was still brilliantly +lighted. The windows were all open, and a soft +breeze was playing with the frost-like curtains, just as it<span class="pagenum">[155]</span> +had when she heard that shot, and fled down the terrace. +The music was hushed, and the rooms were almost +empty; that was all the change that appeared to her. +Yet it seemed as if years had passed since she stood on +that terrace.</p> + +<p>"But we shall hear soon. Oh, tell me!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my child. They know that I am waiting."</p> + +<p>The baronet strove to speak calmly, for the suppression +of strong feeling had been the education of his life; but +his voice shook, and he turned his head aside, to avoid +the piteous glance of those great, blue eyes that were so +full of tears.</p> + +<p>"Go—go up to your room, Lady Rose," said the +baronet, after a moment's severe struggle with himself. +"In my selfish grief I had forgotten everything. Was +Jessup alive when he reached the cottage?"</p> + +<p>"I—I think so; but there came so many with him +that I escaped through the shrubberies."</p> + +<p>"And came here alone. That was brave; that was +wise. At least, we must save you from the horrors of +to-night, let the result be what it may."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose uttered a faint moan, and the tears grew +hot under her drooping eyelids.</p> + +<p>"If it goes ill with him, I do not wish to be spared. +Pain will seem natural to me then," she said, shivering.</p> + +<p>The baronet took her hand in his own; both were cold +as ice; so were the lips that touched her fingers.</p> + +<p>"You will let me stay until we hear something?" she +pleaded.</p> + +<p>Just then she stood within the light which fell from +one of the tall windows, and all the disarray of her dress +was clearly betrayed: the trailing azure of her train soiled +with earth and wet with dew; the gossamer lace torn in<span class="pagenum">[156]</span> +shreds, the ringlets of her thick, rich hair falling in damp +masses around her. Surely that was no figure to present +before his critical guests. They must not know how +this fair girl suffered. There should be no wounds to +her maidenly pride that he could spare her.</p> + +<p>These thoughts drew the baronet partially from himself. +It was a relief to have something to care for. At +this moment, when all his nerves were quivering with +dread, the sweet, sad sympathy of this fair girl was a +support to him. He did not wish to part with her now, +that she so completely shared the misery of his suspense.</p> + +<p>"You are shivering; you are cold!" he said.</p> + +<p>"No, no; it is not that."</p> + +<p>"I know—I know!"</p> + +<p>He dropped her hand and went into the great, open +hall, where bronze statues in armor, life-sized, held lights +on the points of their spears, as if on guard. Some lady +had flung her shawl across the arm of one of these noble +ornaments, where it fell in waves of rich coloring to the +marble floor. Sir Noel seized upon this and wrapped +the Lady Rose in its loose folds from head to foot. Then +he drew her to a side of the terrace, where the two stood, +minute after minute, waiting in silence. Once the baronet +spoke.</p> + +<p>"The windows of his room are just above us," he said. +"I thought perhaps we might hear something."</p> + +<p>"Ah me! How still they are!" sighed the girl, looking +upward.</p> + +<p>"We could not hear. No, no, we could not hear. +The sashes are all closed," answered the baronet, sharply, +for he felt the fear her words implied.</p> + +<p>Rose drew close to her companion.</p> + +<p>"I did not mean that. I only thought—"<span class="pagenum">[157]</span></p> + +<p>"They are coming."</p> + +<p>The baronet spoke in a whisper, but did not move. +He shrunk now from hearing the news so impatiently +waited for a moment before.</p> + +<p>A servant came through the hall, and rushed toward +his master.</p> + +<p>"Sir Noel, they are waiting for you in the small +drawing-room."</p> + +<p>The baronet hesitated. His lips were striving to +frame a question which the man read in the wild eyes +fixed on his.</p> + +<p>"He is alive, Sir Noel. I know that."</p> + +<p>The father drew a deep, deep breath. The claw of +some fierce bird of prey seemed loosened from his heart; +a flood of gentle pity for the fair girl, who dared not +even look her anxiety, detained him another moment.</p> + +<p>"Go into the library. I will bring you news," he +said.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>LADY ROSE</b> watched the master and servant as +they went into the hall; then, gliding through +one of the open windows, stole into the library, where +she walked up and down, up and down, until it seemed +as if she had travelled leagues on leagues, but could not +stop.</p> + +<p>The baronet came at last, looking calmer and more +self-possessed, but still very pale.<span class="pagenum">[158]</span></p> + +<p>Lady Rose came up to him, looking the question she +could not ask.</p> + +<p>"It is not death as yet," he said.</p> + +<p>"But, tell me—oh! tell me, is there danger?"</p> + +<p>"Great danger, the doctors think; all the more because +they can find no wound."</p> + +<p>"No wound! But that shot! that shot!"</p> + +<p>The baronet shook his head.</p> + +<p>"It is all a mystery as yet."</p> + +<p>"But if he is not wounded?"</p> + +<p>"There has been a fall—a blow; something which +threatens congestion of the brain."</p> + +<p>"But if the other, Jessup, is shot. I heard the report +from the terrace."</p> + +<p>"And I from the woods. But let us say nothing of +this—think nothing, if we can help it," said the baronet.</p> + +<p>"If we can help it! Ah! me."</p> + +<p>"The surgeons have gone over to Jessup's cottage. +He may be able to speak. I will go with them."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose looked up eagerly.</p> + +<p>"And he?"</p> + +<p>"Must be kept perfectly quiet. My man is with him."</p> + +<p>"Have you seen him? Is it certain that he breathes?"</p> + +<p>"I have seen him only for a moment. He was breathing, +but very feebly," answered the baronet.</p> + +<p>"Ah! that poor white face! I shall never forget it," +answered Rose, covering her eyes with both hands. "His +eyes so wide open! Oh, how they frightened me!"</p> + +<p>"They are closed now, and he lies there quiet as a +child. There is some burden upon the brain."</p> + +<p>"But the doctors, how can they leave him? He +might die."</p> + +<p>"It is only long enough to visit Jessup. He is +wounded badly, the people say who took him home."<span class="pagenum">[159]</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. I heard them speaking of blood on +the grass as they came up. Of—of course, the doctors +must go to him—and you; it is but right."</p> + +<p>A strange resolve had suddenly flashed into her +thoughts.</p> + +<p>"You will go to your room now, Lady Rose. It is +long after midnight," said the baronet, as he opened a +door leading to the hall.</p> + +<p>"No, Sir Noel; I could not sleep; I could not breathe +under all this uncertainty. You will find me here, with +your news, good or bad. It would be like shutting myself +in a prison cell if I went to my room now."</p> + +<p>"As you wish. I will not be gone long," answered +the baronet.</p> + +<p>Lady Rose stood in the middle of the library, listening, +until Sir Noel's footsteps died out on the terrace; +then she stole into the hall and mounted the stairs, holding +her breath as she went.</p> + +<p>In her dressing-room she found a woman leaning back +in an easy-chair, who had fallen into a restless sleep.</p> + +<p>"Hipple, Hipple!" said Lady Rose, under her breath. +"Do wake up."</p> + +<p>The thin little shadow of a woman opened two black +eyes, and thrust up her shoulders with a sleepy protest.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Hipple, Hipple! always Mrs. Hipple, sleeping +or waking. Well, what is it now, my lady?"</p> + +<p>"Get up, that is a good soul. I know that you have +been kept out of your bed, cruelly, but I want you so +much."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, lady-bird, what is it all about? Of +course, you want me. That is what you always were +doing as a child. Oh, well, one is something older now, +and that makes a difference."<span class="pagenum">[160]</span></p> + +<p>While the sleepy woman was uttering this half-protest, +Lady Rose was arranging the cap, that had been crushed +on one side as she slept, and gently shaking off the sleep +which threatened to renew itself in soft grumbles.</p> + +<p>"There, now, everything is set to rights, and you look +wide awake."</p> + +<p>"Of course, I am wide awake; I, who never sleep, +though you dance away the hours till morning," answered +the little lady, testily.</p> + +<p>"But I have not been dancing to-night, Hipple; far +from it. Something dreadful has happened."</p> + +<p>"Dreadful! Lady Rose, do speak out. My heart is +rising into my mouth."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Walton Hurst has been hurt."</p> + +<p>"Hurt! My poor, dear child. Oh, now I know why +you came to me gasping for breath."</p> + +<p>"He is very ill—quite insensible, in his room over +yonder, with no one to take care of him but Sir Noel's +man."</p> + +<p>"Who knows nothing."</p> + +<p>"Who might let him die, you know, while the doctors +are away. I am so troubled about it."</p> + +<p>"Well, what shall I do? Of course Webb isn't to be +trusted."</p> + +<p>"Just step in and offer to take his place, while he goes +down to the gardener's cottage and inquires about Jessup, +who is hurt also."</p> + +<p>"Jessup hurt! What right had he to take the same +night of the young gentleman's misfortune, for his poor +trouble, I should like to know," exclaimed the old lady, +resentfully. "It is taking a great liberty, I can tell +him."</p> + +<p>"Still, he is hurt, and I want to hear about it, if you +can only get Webb to go."<span class="pagenum">[161]</span></p> + +<p>"Can! He shall!"</p> + +<p>"He will trust Mr. Hurst with you!"</p> + +<p>"Of course. Who doubts that?"</p> + +<p>"And then—"</p> + +<p>Lady Rose faltered, and a faint streak of carmine shot +across her forehead.</p> + +<p>"Well, what then, lady-bird? something chokes in +your throat. What am I to do then?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, you would let me come in, just for a +moment."</p> + +<p>"Oh-h! But don't—don't. I cannot see your pretty +lip quivering so! There—there. I understand it all +now!"</p> + +<p>"And you will?"</p> + +<p>"When did Hipple ever say no? Is she likely to +begin now, when rain is getting under those eyelids? +Sit down a minute, and take comfort. Things must be +amiss indeed if the old woman can't set them right."</p> + +<p>Gently forcing her young mistress into the easy-chair, +the faithful old companion left the room, swift as a bird, +and noiseless as a mouse. Directly she came back, and +beckoned with her finger through the open door.</p> + +<p>"He has gone. I frightened him about his master. +Come!"</p> + +<p>Lady Rose was at the door in an instant. The next +she stood in the midst of a large chamber, in the centre +of which was a huge high-posted bedstead of carved +ebony, shrouded by a torrent of lace and damask, on +which the shaded light fell like the glow of rubies. +Shrinking behind these curtains, which were drawn back +at the head in gorgeous masses, Lady Rose looked +timidly upon the form that lay prostrate there, afraid of +the death signs which might be written upon it.<span class="pagenum">[162]</span></p> + +<p>Walton Hurst was deadly pale yet; but the locked +features had relaxed a little, the limbs were outlined less +rigidly under the snow-white counterpane than they had +been upon the forest path. There was a faint stir of +breath about the chest also; but for this the intense stillness +in which he lay would have been horrible.</p> + +<p>As she gazed, holding her own breath that she might +listen for his, her hand was touched softly by lips that +seemed to be whispering a prayer or blessing, and Mrs. +Hipple stole from the room.</p> + +<p>Lady Rose was alone with the man she loved better +than anything on earth, and the solitude made her +tremble, as if she were committing a crime. She dared +not move, or scarcely breathe. What if he were to open +his eyes and discover her! Then she could only wish to +die of the shame she had brought upon herself.</p> + +<p>Still the girl was fascinated. The way of retreat was +before her, but she would not take it. Perhaps this was +the only time she might hope to see him upon earth. +Was she to cast this precious opportunity away? He +stirred a little. It was nothing but a faint shiver of the +limbs; but that was enough to startle her. Then a +shadow seemed to flit across his features. His eyes +opened, and were fixed upon her with a blank, unquestioning +look.</p> + +<p>Lady Rose could not help the words that sprang to +her lips.</p> + +<p>"Are you better? Ah, tell me that you are better."</p> + +<p>A faint gleam of intelligence came into the eyes she no +longer sought to evade, and the lips moved a little, as if +something heavier than a breath were disturbing them.</p> + +<p>"Can you speak? Do you know me?"</p> + +<p>Some unintelligible words were broken on the invalid's +lips.<span class="pagenum">[163]</span></p> + +<p>"Do you want anything?"</p> + +<p>"No. I—I—"</p> + +<p>Here the man's feeble speech broke off, and his head +moved restlessly on the pillow. Lady Rose leaned over +him. Her soul was craving one word of recognition.</p> + +<p>"Try and say if you know me," she whispered, too +eager for any thought of the fear that had possessed her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I know. Only the name. I never mention +that—never!"</p> + +<p>"But why? Is it hateful to you?"</p> + +<p>"Hateful! No, no! Don't you know that?"</p> + +<p>Rose could not resist the temptation, but touched his +forehead with her hand. A ghostly little smile crept +over his mouth, which was half-concealed by a wave of +the silken beard that had drifted across it. She longed to +know if it was a smile or a tremor of light from the +shaded lamp, and softly smoothed the beard away. As +she did so, a faint kiss was left upon her hand. She +drew it back with a sob of delight so exquisite that it +made her feel faint.</p> + +<p>"He knows me. With his poor, feeble breath he has +kissed my hand." This thought was like rare old wine +to the girl; she felt its glow in every pulse of her being. +With that precious kiss on her palm, she drew back +among the curtains, and gathered it into her heart, pressing +her lips where his had been, as children hide away +to eat their stolen fruit.</p> + +<p>Then she grew ashamed of her own happiness, and +came into sight again. Hurst was apparently asleep +then. His eyes were closed; but low murmurs broke +from him, now and then, as if he were toiling through +some dream. The girl bent her head to listen. The +hunger of a loving heart made her insatiable.<span class="pagenum">[164]</span></p> + +<p>"Here—here with me! Then all is well! Dreams +haunt one: but what are dreams? Her hand was on my +mouth. I felt her breath. No harm has come to her. +Yet, and yet—dreams all!"</p> + +<p>Here the young man fell into deeper unconsciousness, +and his murmurs ceased almost entirely.</p> + +<p>Some minutes passed, and then the door was swiftly +opened, and Mrs. Hipple glided through.</p> + +<p>"My lady! my lady! They are here, mounting the +terrace."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose heard the loud whisper, and fled from the +room.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">A FATHER'S MISGIVING.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>A FIGURE</b> crouched low in the darkness of that +narrow passage, listening at the door, and shrinking +with shudders when a groan broke through the ill-fitted +panels. There was some confusion in the room +beyond, voices, and guarded footsteps, quick orders given, +then dull, dead silence, and a sharp scream of agony.</p> + +<p>"That was his cry! They are killing him! they are +killing him!" cried that poor girl, springing to her feet.</p> + +<p>Ruth opened the door in rash haste, and her pale face +looked in.</p> + +<p>"Back! Go back, child!"</p> + +<p>It was the impatient voice and white hand of the +surgeon that warned Ruth Jessup back; and she shrunk +into the darkness again, appalled by what she had seen<span class="pagenum">[165]</span>—her +father's gray hair, scattered on the pillow, his face +writhing, and his eyes hot and wild with anguish.</p> + +<p>It was a terrible picture, but while it wrung her heart, +there was hope in the agony it brought. Anything was +better than the deathly stillness that had terrified her +under the cedars. It was something that her father could +feel pain.</p> + +<p>"Now," said the kind surgeon, looking through the +door, "you can come in. The bullet is extracted."</p> + +<p>In his white palm lay a bit of bent lead, which he +looked upon lovingly, for it was a proof of his own professional +skill; but Ruth turned from it with a shiver, +and creeping up to her father's bed, knelt down by it, +holding back her tears, and burying her face in the bed-clothes, +afraid to meet the wild eyes turned upon her.</p> + +<p>The wounded man moved his hand a little toward her. +She took it in her own timid clasp, and laid her wet +cheek upon it in penitent humility.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father!"</p> + +<p>The hard fingers stirred in her grasp.</p> + +<p>"Did it hurt you so? Has it almost killed you?"</p> + +<p>The old man turned a little and bent his eyes upon +her.</p> + +<p>"It isn't <i>that</i> hurt," he struggled to say. "Not that."</p> + +<p>Ruth began to tremble. She understood him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father!" she faltered, "who did it? How could +you have been hurt?"</p> + +<p>A stern glance shot from the sick man's eye.</p> + +<p>"You! oh, you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! I did not know. How could I?"</p> + +<p>The old man drew away his hand, and shook off the +tears she had left upon it, with more strength than he +seemed to possess.<span class="pagenum">[166]</span></p> + +<p>"Hush!" he said. "You trouble me."</p> + +<p>Ruth shrunk away, and once more rested her head on +the quilt, that was soon wet with her tears. After a +little she crept close to him again, and timidly touched +his hand.</p> + +<p>"Father!"</p> + +<p>"Poor child! Poor, foolish child!"</p> + +<p>"Father, forgive me!"</p> + +<p>The sick man's face quivered all over, and, spite of an +effort to restrain it, his poor hand rose tremblingly, and +fell on that bowed head.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my child! if we had both died before this thing +happened."</p> + +<p>"I wish we had. Oh, how I wish we had!"</p> + +<p>"It was my fault," murmured the sick man.</p> + +<p>"No, no! It was mine. I am to blame, I alone."</p> + +<p>"I might have known it; poor, lost lamb, I might +have known it."</p> + +<p>Ruth lifted her head suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Lost lamb! Oh, father! what do these words +mean?"</p> + +<p>The gardener shook his head faintly, closed his eyes, +and two great tears rolled from under the lids.</p> + +<p>"Oh! tell me—tell me! I—I cannot bear it, father!"</p> + +<p>That moment the surgeons, who had gone out for consultation, +came back and rather sternly reprimanded +Ruth for talking with their patient.</p> + +<p>The girl rose obediently, and turned away from the +bed. The surgeons saw that a scarlet heat had driven +away the pallor of her countenance, but took no heed of +that. She had evidently agitated their patient, and this +was sufficient excuse for some degree of severity, so she +went forth, relieved of her former awful dread, but +wounded with new anxieties.<span class="pagenum">[167]</span></p> + +<p>Two days followed of intense suffering to that wounded +man and the broken-hearted girl. Fever and delirium +set in with him, terror and dread with her. The power +of reason had come out of that great shock. In trembling +and awe she had asked herself questions.</p> + +<p>Who had fired that murderous shot? How had the gun +disappeared from behind the passage door, where Richard +Storms had surely left it? Had there been a quarrel +between the father she loved and the husband she adored? +If so, which was the aggressor?</p> + +<p>The poor girl remembered with dread the questions +with which her father had startled her so that night, the +sharp gleam of his usually kind eyes, and the set firmness +of his mouth, while he waited for her answer. Did he +guess at the deception she had practised, or were his suspicions +such as made the blood burn in her veins?</p> + +<p>With these thoughts harassing her mind, the young +creature watched over that sick man until her own +strength began to droop. In his delirium, he had talked +wildly, and uttered at random many a broken fancy that +cut her to the soul; but even in his helpless state there +had seemed to be an undercurrent of caution curbing his +tongue. He raved of the man who had shot him, but +mentioned no names; spoke of his daughter with hushed +tenderness, but still with a sort of reserve, as if he were +keeping some painful secret back in his heart. Sometimes +he recognized her, and then his eyes, lurid with +fever, would fill with hot tears.</p> + +<p>After a while this fever of the brain passed off, and left +the strong man weak as a child. It seemed as if he had +lost all force, even for suffering; but Ruth felt that some +painful thing, that he never spoke of or hinted at, +haunted him. He was strangely wakeful, and at times<span class="pagenum">[168]</span> +she felt his great eyes looking out at her from their +deepening caverns, with an expression that made her +heart sink.</p> + +<p>One day he spoke to her with a suddenness that made +her breath stand still.</p> + +<p>"Ruth!"</p> + +<p>"Father, did you speak to me?"</p> + +<p>"Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"Who, father?"</p> + +<p>"You know. Is he safe out of the way?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean—"</p> + +<p>The girl broke off. She could not utter Walton Hurst's +name. The sick man also seemed to shrink from it.</p> + +<p>"Is he safe?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! he was hurt like yourself."</p> + +<p>"Hurt!—he? I am speaking of Walton Hurst, girl."</p> + +<p>The man spoke out plainly now, and a wild questioning +look came into his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! he was found, like yourself, lying on the +ground, senseless. We thought that he was dead."</p> + +<p>"Lying on the ground! Who hurt him? Not I—not +I!"</p> + +<p>Ruth flung herself on her knees by the bed; a flush of +coming tears rushed over her face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! oh, thank God! father, dear father!"</p> + +<p>"Did you think that?" whispered the sick man, overwhelmed +by this swift outburst of feeling.</p> + +<p>"I did not know—I could not tell. It was all so +strange, so terrible! Oh, father, I have been so troubled!"</p> + +<p>The sick man looked at her earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Ruth!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father!"<span class="pagenum">[169]</span></p> + +<p>"Was he shot like me?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. They say not. Some terrible blow +on the head, but no blood."</p> + +<p>"A blow on the head! But how? As God is my +witness, I struck no one."</p> + +<p>Ruth fell to kissing that large, helpless hand, as if +some awful stain had just been removed from it. In all +her father's sickness she had never touched him with +her sweet lips till now. Then all at once she drew back +as if an arrow had struck her. It was something keener +than that—one of the thoughts that kill as they strike. +After a struggle for breath, she spoke.</p> + +<p>"But who? Oh, father, you were shot. Was it—was +it—"</p> + +<p>"Hush, child! Not a word! I—I will not hear a +word. Never let that question pass your lips again so +long as you live. I charge you—I charge you!"</p> + +<p>The sick man fell back exhausted, and gasping for +breath. The question put so naturally by his daughter +seemed to have given him a dangerous shock.</p> + +<p>"But how is he now?"</p> + +<p>The question was asked in a hoarse whisper, and more +by the bright eyes than those trembling lips.</p> + +<p>"I—I have not dared to ask. I—I could not leave +you here alone," answered Ruth, with a fitful quiver of +the lips.</p> + +<p>"How long is it?"</p> + +<p>"Two days, father."</p> + +<p>"Two days, and no news of him."</p> + +<p>"They would not keep it from us if he had been worse," +said Ruth, who had listened with sickening dread to every +footstep that approached the cottage during all that time, +fearing the news she expected, and gathering hope because +it did not come.<span class="pagenum">[170]</span></p> + +<p>"Has Sir Noel been here?"</p> + +<p>"He was here that night," answered Ruth, shuddering, +as she thought of the awful scene, when her father +was brought home so death-like.</p> + +<p>"Not since? He knew that I was hurt, too."</p> + +<p>"He has sent the doctors here."</p> + +<p>"What news did they bring?"</p> + +<p>"I—I did not dare to ask."</p> + +<p>A look of deep compassion broke into those sunken +eyes, and, turning on his pillow, the old man murmured +in a painful whisper:</p> + +<p>"Poor child! Poor child!"</p> + +<p>Then Ruth fell to kissing his great hand again, murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! you are so good to me—so good!"</p> + +<p>"I am weak—so weak," he answered, as if excusing +something to himself. "But how could he—Well, +well, when I am stronger—when I am stronger."</p> + +<p>The cottage was small, and the jar of an opening door +could be felt through the whole little building. Some +one was trying at the latch then, and a step was heard in +the passage.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE BIRD AND THE SERPENT.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>GO</b>. It may be news," said the sick man.</p> + +<p>Before Ruth could reach the door she met +Richard Storms coming toward her father's room. His +manner was less audacious than usual, and his face +clouded.<span class="pagenum">[171]</span></p> + +<p>"I have come to ask after your father," he said, with +an anxious look, as if he expected some rebuff. "They say +that he has been shot in the back by some lurking thief. +Perhaps I could help ferret out who it is if the old man'll +tell me all about it."</p> + +<p>"Father is too ill for talking," answered Ruth, shrinking +out of her visitor's path. "He must be kept quiet."</p> + +<p>"Of course; but not from neighbors like us. The +old man at the farm sent me over to hear all about it."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to hear. Everybody knows how +my poor father was found bleeding in the park. He has +been very ill since, and is only now coming to himself."</p> + +<p>"Oh! ah! Then he has come to his senses. That +was what we most wanted to know; for, of course, he +can tell who shot him. I'll be sworn it is guessed at +rightly enough. Still knowing is knowing."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Storms moved forward, as if determined +to enter the sick man's chamber.</p> + +<p>Ruth had no means of stopping him. She retreated +backward, step by step, shrinking from his approach, but +without the least power of resistance. When she reached +the door, Storms put forth his hand and attempted to +put her aside, not rudely; but she so loathed his touch, +that a faint cry broke from hers.</p> + +<p>A look of bitter malice broke over the young man's +face as he bent it close to her.</p> + +<p>"You didn't scream so when the young master took +my place the night all this trouble came up. I could +tell something of what chanced between your sweetheart +and the old man, after he went out with my gun in his +hand."</p> + +<p>"You know—you can tell? You saw?" whispered +the poor girl, rendered hoarse by fear.<span class="pagenum">[172]</span></p> + +<p>"Ah, that makes you whimper, does it? That starts +the blood from your white face. Yes, I saw—I saw; +and when the courts want to know what I saw they will +hear about it. Kicked dogs bite now and then. So +don't gather your comely little self into a heap, when I +come by again, or my tongue may be loosened. I have +kept it between my teeth till now, for the sake of old +times, when you were ready to smile when I came and +were sorry when I went."</p> + +<p>"But we were children then."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but when he came with his dainty wooing, +some one forgot that she had ever been a child."</p> + +<p>"No, no! As a playmate, I liked you. It was when—when—"</p> + +<p>"When, having the feelings of a man, I spoke them +out, and was treated like a dog. Do not think I will +ever forget that. No, never—never, to my dying +day."</p> + +<p>"Why are you so harsh with me, Richard?" cried the +poor girl, now thoroughly terrified. "I never in my +whole life have done you harm."</p> + +<p>The young man laughed a low, disagreeable laugh.</p> + +<p>"Harm! Oh, no! Such milk-white doves as you +never harm anything. They only fire a man's heart +with love, then torment him with it, like witches—soft-spoken, +smiling witches—that make us devils with their +jibes, and idiots with their tears. Oh, I hardly know +which is most enticing, love or hate, for such creatures."</p> + +<p>"Don't! don't! You frighten me!" pleaded the girl.</p> + +<p>"Aye, there it is. Faint at a plain word; but work +out murder and bloodshed with the witchcraft of your +false smiles and lying tears. That is what you have +done, Ruth Jessup."<span class="pagenum">[173]</span></p> + +<p>"No! no!" cried the girl, putting up her hands.</p> + +<p>"Who was it that set her own father and sweetheart +at each other?"</p> + +<p>"Hush! I will not hear this. It is false—it is cruel. +There was no quarrel between them—no evil blood."</p> + +<p>"No quarrel—no evil blood! She says that, looking +meek as a spring-lamb, chewing the lie in her mouth as +that does clover. But what if I tell you that the old +man in yonder knew just all that happened after I was +turned out of the kitchen that night?"</p> + +<p>"It was you who told him that which might have +brought great trouble on him and me; only good men +are slow to believe evil of those they love. I knew from +his own lips that you had waylaid him in the park with +a wicked falsehood."</p> + +<p>"It was the truth, every word of it," exclaimed Storms, +stamping his foot on the floor. "I saw it with my +own eyes."</p> + +<p>"Saw what?" faltered the girl, sick with apprehension.</p> + +<p>"Saw! But I need not tell you. Only the next +time Sir Noel's heir comes here, with his orders for +flowers, and his wanting to know all about growing +roses, have a curtain to the kitchen window, or train the +ivy thicker over it. Now do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"It is you who cannot understand," said Ruth, feeling +a glow of courage, which the young man mistook for +shame. "The thing you did was a mean act, and if I +had never hated you before, that would be cause enough."</p> + +<p>"This is brass. After all, I did think to see some +sign of shame."</p> + +<p>Ruth turned away, faint with terror and disgust.</p> + +<p>"You may thank me that I told no one but the old +man in yonder. Had I gone to Sir Noel—"<span class="pagenum">[174]</span></p> + +<p>"No, no—you could not; you dare not!"</p> + +<p>"Dare not! Well, now, I like that. Some day you +will know how much I dare."</p> + +<p>"But why—why do you wish to injure me?"</p> + +<p>"Why does a hound snap when you mock him with +a dainty bit of beef, and while his mouth waters, and +his eyes gloat, toss it beyond his reach? You have +learned something of the kennels, Ruth Jessup, and +should know that men and hounds are alike in this."</p> + +<p>Ruth could hardly suppress the scorn that crept +through her into silence. But she felt that this man +held an awful power over everything she loved, and +gave no expression to her bitter loathing.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to let me in?" said Storms, almost +coaxingly. "I want to have a word with the old man."</p> + +<p>Ruth stood aside. She dared not oppose him; but +when free to pass, he hesitated, and a look of nervous +anxiety came over his features.</p> + +<p>"The old man doesn't speak much; hasn't said how +it all happened, ha?"</p> + +<p>"He has said nothing about it," answered Ruth, +struck with new terror.</p> + +<p>The look of cool audacity came back to her enemy's +face, and, without more ceremony, he pushed his way +into the wounded man's room.<span class="pagenum">[175]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">TRUE AS STEEL.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>JESSUP</b> was lying with his eyes closed, and his +mouth firmly compressed, as if in pain. But the +tread of heavy feet on the floor aroused him, and he +opened his eyes in languid wonder. The sight of Storms +brought slow fire to his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Is it you—you?" he whispered, sharply.</p> + +<p>"Yes, neighbor Jessup, it is I," answered Storms. +"Father is sadly put about, and wants to know how it +all happened. He means to have justice done, if no one +else stirs in the matter—and I think with him."</p> + +<p>A look of keen, almost ferocious anxiety, darkened +the young man's face as he said this.</p> + +<p>"That is kind and neighborly," answered the gardener, +moving restlessly in his bed. "But there is +nothing to tell."</p> + +<p>Storms looked at the sick man in dumb amazement. +Up to this time his manner had been anxious, and his +voice hurried. Now a dark red glow rose to his face, +and blazed from his eyes with a glare of relief.</p> + +<p>"Nothing to tell, and you shot through the shoulder, +in a way that has set the whole country side in commotion? +This is a pretty tale to go home with."</p> + +<p>The young man spoke cheerfully, and with a sort of +chuckle in his voice.</p> + +<p>"It is the truth," said Jessup, closing his eyes.</p> + +<p>"But some one shot you."</p> + +<p>"It was an accident," whispered the sick man.</p> + +<p>"An accident! Oh! was it an accident?"<span class="pagenum">[176]</span></p> + +<p>"Nothing worse."</p> + +<p>"Are you in earnest, Jessup?"</p> + +<p>"Do I look like a man who jokes?" said the gardener, +with a slow smile.</p> + +<p>"And you are willing to swear to this?"</p> + +<p>"No one will want me to swear. No harm worth +speaking of has been done."</p> + +<p>"Don't you be sure of that," answered Storms. "The +peace has been broken, and two men have been badly +hurt. This is work for a magistrate."</p> + +<p>Jessup shook his pale head on the pillow, and spoke +with some energy.</p> + +<p>"I tell you it was an accident; my gun went off."</p> + +<p>"And I tell you it was no accident. I saw it all with +my own eyes."</p> + +<p>"You—you saw it all?" exclaimed Jessup, rising on +his elbow. "You!"</p> + +<p>"Just as plain as a bright moon and stars could show +it to me."</p> + +<p>"How? How—"</p> + +<p>Jessup had struggled up from his pillow, but fell +back almost fainting, with his wild eyes fixed steadily +on the young man's face.</p> + +<p>"I had just passed under the cedar-trees, when you +came in sight, walking fast, as if you were in a hurry to +find some one."</p> + +<p>"It was you I was looking for. I was on my way to +find you," whispered Jessup, so hoarsely that Storms +had to bend low to catch his words.</p> + +<p>"Me! What for, I should like to know?"</p> + +<p>"Because I thought you had lied to me," answered +the old man, turning his face from the light. "Oh, that +it had been so—if it only had been so!"<span class="pagenum">[177]</span></p> + +<p>A sob shook that strong frame, and from under the +wrinkled eyelids two great tears forced their way.</p> + +<p>A flash of intelligence gleamed across Storms' face. +He was gaining more information than he had dared to +hope for. But craft is the refuge of knaves, and the +wisdom of fools. He had self-command enough for +deception, and pretended not to observe the anguish of +that proud man, for proud he was, in the best sense of +the word.</p> + +<p>"I was hanging about the grounds, too savage for +home or anything else," he went on to say. "I had +seen enough to drive a man mad, and was almost that, +when you came up. There was another man under the +cedar-trees. I had been watching for him all the evening. +You know who that was."</p> + +<p>Jessup gave a faint groan.</p> + +<p>"I knew that he was skulking there in hope of seeing +her again."</p> + +<p>"It is a mistake!" exclaimed Jessup, with more force +in his voice than he had as yet shown.</p> + +<p>Storms laughed mockingly.</p> + +<p>"So you mean to shield him? You—you tell me +that young master wasn't in your house that night: +that your daughter did not see him; that he did not +shoot you for being in the way? Perhaps you will +expect me to believe all that; but I saw it!"</p> + +<p>As these cruel words were rained over him, the sick +man settled down in his bed, and seemed hardened into +iron. The fire of combat glowed in his deep-set eyes, +and his hand clenched a fold of the bed-clothes, as if +both had been chiselled out of marble.</p> + +<p>"No one shot me. It was my own careless handling +of the gun," he said. "No one shot me."<span class="pagenum">[178]</span></p> + +<p>Storms laughed again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Jessup, that'll never do! What a man sees +he sees."</p> + +<p>"No one shot me—it was myself."</p> + +<p>"But how did he come to harm, if it was not a kick +on the head from the gun he did not know how to manage? +I could have told him how to handle it better. +My gun, too—"</p> + +<p>"Your gun!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my gun. I left it behind the door, in the passage, +when he sent me out. He took it when it was +dangerous to stay longer. I saw it in his hand before +you came out. He was armed—you were not."</p> + +<p>"I took the gun," said Jessup.</p> + +<p>"You will swear to that!" said Storms, really amazed. +"You believe it?"</p> + +<p>"I took the gun. It went off by chance. That is all +I have to say. Now leave me, young man, for so much +talk is more than I can bear."</p> + +<p>Storms obeyed. He had not only gained all the +information he wanted, but the material for new mischief +had been supplied to a brain that was strong to +work out evil. He found Ruth in the passage, walking +up and down, wild and pale with distress. She gave +him a look that might have softened a heart of marble, +but only increased his self-gratulation.</p> + +<p>"Just let me ask this," he said, coming close to her, +with a sneer on his face. "Which of those two men +took out the gun I left standing behind the door that +night—father or sweetheart? One or the other will +have to answer for it. Which would you prefer to have +hanged?"</p> + +<p>The deadly whiteness which swept over that young<span class="pagenum">[179]</span> +face only deepened the cruel sneer that had brought it +forth. Bending lower down, the wretch added, +"I saw it all. I know which it was that fired the +shot. Now what will you give me to hold my tongue?"</p> + +<p>Ruth could not speak; but her eyes, full of shrinking +fear, were fixed upon him.</p> + +<p>"You might marry me now rather than see him +hung."</p> + +<p>Ruth shuddered, and looked wildly around, as a bird +seeks to flee from a serpent that threatens its life.</p> + +<p>"Say, isn't my tongue worth bridling at a fair price?"</p> + +<p>"I—I do not understand you," faltered the poor young +creature, drawing back with unconquerable aversion, till +the wall supported her.</p> + +<p>"But you will understand what it all means, when he +is dragged to the assizes, for all the rabble of the country +side to look upon."</p> + +<p>Ruth covered her face with both hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you seem to see it now. That handsome face, +looking out of a criminal's box; those white hands held +up pleading for mercy. Mind you, his high birth and all +his father's gold will only be the worse for him. The +laws of old England reach gentlemen as well as us poor +working folks. Ha! what is this?"</p> + +<p>The cruel wretch might well cry out, for Ruth had +fainted at his feet.<span class="pagenum">[180]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">A CRUEL DESERTION.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>A WEEK</b> or two before these painful events happened +at "Norston's Rest," Judith Hart had +been expecting to see Storms day after day till disappointment +kindled into fiery impatience, and the stillness +of her home became intolerable. Had he, in fact, +taken offence at her first words of reproach, and left +her to the dreary old life? Had her rude passion of +jealousy driven him from her forever, or was there +some truth in the engagement that woman spoke of?</p> + +<p>Again and again Judith pondered over these questions, +sometimes angry with herself, and again filled with +a burning desire to know the worst, and hurl her rage +and humiliation on some one else.</p> + +<p>She was a shrewd girl, endowed with a sharp intellect +and a will, that stopped at nothing in its reckless assumption. +To this was added a vivid imagination, influenced +by coarse reading, uncurbed affections, and, in this case, +an intense passion of love, that lay ready to join all these +qualities into actions as steam conquers the inertia of +iron. One day, when her desire for the presence of that +man had become a desperate longing, her father came +home earlier than usual, and in his kindly way told her +that he had seen young Storms in the village where he +had loitered half the morning around the public house.</p> + +<p>Judith was getting supper for the old man when he +told her this; but she dropped the loaf from her hands +and turned upon him, as if the news so gently spoken +had offended her.<span class="pagenum">[181]</span></p> + +<p>"You saw Mr. Storms in the village, father? He +stayed there hour after hour, and, at last, rode away up the +hill-road, too, without stopping here? I don't believe it; +if you told me so a thousand times, I wouldn't believe it!"</p> + +<p>The old man shook his head, and replied apologetically, +as if he wished himself in the wrong, +"You needn't believe it, daughter, if you'd rather not. +I shall not mind."</p> + +<p>"But is it true? Was it Mr. Storms, the young gentleman, +who took tea with us, that you saw?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, I don't want to contradict you, daughter +Judith, but the young man I saw was Richard Storms. +He stayed a long time at the public house talking with +the landlord; then rode away on his blood horse like +a prince."</p> + +<p>"Hours in the village, within a stone's throw from the +house, and never once turned this way," muttered the +girl, between her teeth; and seizing upon the loaf, she +pressed it to her bosom, cutting through it with a dangerous +sweep of the knife.</p> + +<p>"Did he speak to you?" she asked, turning upon her +father.</p> + +<p>"Nay, he nodded his head when I passed him."</p> + +<p>"And the landlord, you said, they were speaking together?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, quite friendly."</p> + +<p>"What did they talk about—could you hear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little, now and then."</p> + +<p>"Well!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was a word lifted above the rest, when Storms +got into the saddle."</p> + +<p>"A word—well, what was it?"</p> + +<p>"Something about a lass near 'Norston's Rest,' that +folks say the young man is to wed."<span class="pagenum">[182]</span></p> + +<p>When Judith spoke again, her voice was so husky +that the old man looked at her inquiringly, and wondered +if it was the shadows that made her so pale.</p> + +<p>She felt his eyes upon her, and turned away.</p> + +<p>"Did you chance to hear the name—I mean <i>her</i> +name—the girl he is going to wed?"</p> + +<p>"If I did, it has slipped from my mind, but it was +some one about 'Norston's Rest.' She is to have a mint +of money when some people die who are in the way."</p> + +<p>"Did he say this?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, daughter."</p> + +<p>When Hart looked around, he saw that Judith had +laid the loaf of bread on the table, with the knife thrust +in it, and was gone. The old man was used to such +reckless abandonment whenever Judith was displeased +with a subject, or disliked a task; so, after waiting +patiently a while for her to come back, he broke off the +half-severed slice of bread, and began to make his supper +from that.</p> + +<p>After a while Judith came into the room. Her color +was all gone, and a look of fiery resolve broke through +the trouble in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Where has he gone, father—can you tell me that?"</p> + +<p>"How can I say? He wasn't likely to give much of +an account of himself to an old man like me."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think it strange that he should go off like +that?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no," answered the old man, with some deliberation. +"Young fellows like him take sudden ideas into +their heads. They're not to be depended on."</p> + +<p>"And this is all you know, father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; how should I know more?"</p> + +<p>"Good-night, father."<span class="pagenum">[183]</span></p> + +<p>The girl went into the hall, came back again, and +kissed her father on the forehead three or four times. +While she did this, tears leaped into her eyes, and the +arms around his neck trembled violently.</p> + +<p>"Why, what has come over the girl?" said the old +man. "I'm not angry about the supper, child. One can't +always expect things to be hot and comfortable. There, +now, go to bed, and think no more about it."</p> + +<p>"Go to bed!" No, no! the girl had no thought of +sleep that night. Far into the morning the light of her +meagre candle gleamed through the window of her room, +revealing her movements as she raved to and fro, like +a wild animal in its cage—sometimes crouching down by +the window as if impatient for the dawn—sometimes +flinging herself desperately on the bed, but always in +action.</p> + +<p>Hart went to his work very early the next morning, and +did not see his daughter, who sometimes slept far beyond +the breakfast hour. He was very tired and hungry that +night, when he came home from work, but found the +house empty, and saw no preparation for supper, except +that the leaf of a table which stood against the wall was +drawn out, and an empty plate and spoon stood upon it.</p> + +<p>Finding that Judith did not appear, he arose wearily, +went into the pantry, and brought out a dish of cold porridge +in one hand, with a pitcher of milk in the other. +With this miserable apology for a meal, he drew his +chair to the table and began to eat, as he had done +many a time before, when, from caprice or idleness, the +girl had left him to provide for himself. Then the poor +old man sat by the hearth, from habit only; for nothing +but dead ashes was before him, and spent a dreary +hour waiting. Still Judith did not come, so he went,<span class="pagenum">[184]</span> +with a heavy heart, into a small untidy room where he +usually slept, carrying a candle in his hand.</p> + +<p>As he sat on the bed wondering, with vague uneasiness, +what could have kept his daughter out so late, the +old man saw a crumpled paper, folded somewhat in the +form of a letter, lying on the floor at his feet, where some +reckless hand had tossed it. When this paper met the +poor father's eye, he arose from the bed, with painful +weariness, and took it to the light. Here he smoothed +the heartless missive with his hands, and wandered about +a while in search of his iron-bound spectacles, that shook +in his hand as he put them on:</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Father</span>—Don't fret about me; but I am going away +for a while. This old place has tired me out, and there +is no use in starving oneself in it any longer. The wages +you get is not enough for one, to say nothing of a girl +that has wants like other folks, and is likely to keep on +wanting if she stays with you against her will. I might +feel worse about leaving you so if I had ever been of +much use or comfort to you; but I know just as well as +you do, that I haven't done my share, and nothing like +it. I know, too, that if I stayed, it would be worse instead +of better; for I couldn't stand trying to be good just +now—no, not to save my life!</p> + +<p>"You won't miss me, anyhow; for when I'm gone, +the people you work for will ask you to take a meal now +and then; besides, you were always handy about the +house, and know how to cook for yourself.</p> + +<p>"I would have come in to say good-by, but was afraid +you might wake up and try to keep me from going. +Now don't put yourself out, or let the neighbors fill your +head with stories about me. There's nothing to tell, +<span class="pagenum">[185]</span>only that I have taken an idea to get a place and better +myself, which I will before you see me again. If I do, +never fear that I will not send you some money.</p> + +<p> +Your daughter,</p> +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Judith</span>.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>The old man read this rude scrawl twice over—the +first time shaking like a leaf, the last time with tears—every +one a drop of pain—trembling in his eyes and +blinding them.</p> + +<p>"Gone!" he said, wiping his eyes with the soiled linen +of his sleeve. "My lass gone away, no one knows where, +and nothing but this left behind to remember her by! +Poor thing!—poor young thing! It was lonesome here, +and maybe I was hard on her in the way of work—wanted +too much cooking done! But I didn't mean to +be extravagant—didn't mean to drive her away from +home, poor motherless thing! It's all my fault! it's all +my fault! Oh! if she would only come back, and give +me a chance to tell her so!"</p> + +<p>The poor old man went to his work that day, looking +worn out, and so downcast that the neighbors turned +pitying glances at him as he passed down the hill, for he +never had stooped so much or appeared so forlorn to +them before. One or two stopped to speak with him. +He said nothing of his daughter, but answered their +greetings with downcast eyes and humble thanks, not +once mentioning his trouble, or giving a sign of the +gnawing anguish that racked his bosom and sapped his +strength. She had left him, and in that lay desolation +too dreary for complaint.<span class="pagenum">[186]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE WIFE'S VISIT.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>I MUST</b> see him. I will see him! Oh, Mrs. Mason, +if you only knew how important it is!"</p> + +<p>The good housekeeper, who sat in her comfortable parlor +at "The Rest," was surprised and troubled by the sudden +appearance of her pretty favorite from the gardener's +cottage. She was hard to move, but could not altogether +steel herself against the pathetic pleading of that pale +young creature, who had come up from her home through +the lonely dusk, to ask a single word with the young heir.</p> + +<p>Sick or well, she said, that word must be spoken. +All she wanted of Mrs. Mason was to let her into his +room a single minute—one minute—she would not ask +for more. Only if Mrs. Mason did not want to see her +die, she would help her to speak that one word.</p> + +<p>There is something in passionate earnestness which +will awake the most lethargic heart to energy, if that +heart is kindly disposed. The stout housekeeper of the +Hall had known and petted Ruth Jessup from the time +she was old enough to carry her little apron full of fruit +or flowers from the gardener's cottage to her room in the +great mansion. It went to her heart to refuse anything +to the fair young creature, who still seemed to her nothing +more than a child; but the wild request, and the +tearful energy with which it was urged, startled the good +woman into sharp opposition.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Walton! You wish to see him, Ruthy? Who +ever heard of such a thing? It quite makes me tremble +to think of it. What can a child like you want with<span class="pagenum">[187]</span> +the young master, and he sick in bed, with everybody +shut out but the doctor, and wet ice-cloths on his head, +night and day. I couldn't think of mentioning it. I +wonder you could bring yourself to ask me. If it had +been anything in my line now!"</p> + +<p>"It is! It is! Kindness is always in your line, dear +godmother!" pleaded the poor girl, putting one arm over +the housekeeper's broad shoulders, and laying her pale +cheek against the rosy freshness which bloomed in that +of her friend. "I wouldn't ask you, only it is so important."</p> + +<p>"But what can it be that you want to say, Ruthy? I +cannot begin to understand it," questioned the old woman, +faltering a little in her hastily expressed denial; for the +soft-pleading kisses lavished on her face had their effect. +"If you were not such a child now."</p> + +<p>"But I am not a child, godmother."</p> + +<p>"Hoity-toity! Is she setting herself up as a woman? +Well, that does make me laugh. Why, it is but yesterday +like since your mother came into this very room, +such a pale, young thing, with you in her arms. She +was weak then, with the consumption, that carried her +off, burning like fire in her poor, thin cheeks, while you +lay in her arms, plump as a pheasant, with those gipsy +black eyes full of fire, and a crow of joy on your baby +mouth. Ah, me! I remember it so well!"</p> + +<p>"My poor young mother asked something of you then, +didn't she?" said Ruth.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, she did. I mind it well. She had something +on her heart, and came to me about it."</p> + +<p>"And that was—"</p> + +<p>"About you, child. She knew that she was going to +die, and—and I had always liked her, and been friendly, +you know."<span class="pagenum">[188]</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I know that. Father has told me."</p> + +<p>"Being so, it was but natural that she should come to +me in her last trouble."</p> + +<p>"She could not have come to a dearer or kinder soul," +murmured Ruth.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, child! She might; but then the truth +was she didn't. It was me the poor thing chose to trust. +I shall never forget her look that day when she sat down +on a stool at my feet, just there by the window, and told +me that she knew it was coming death that made her so +feeble. She was looking at you then as well as she could, +through the great tears that seemed to cool the heat in +her eyes; and you lay still as a mouse, looking at her as +if there was cause of baby wonderment in her tears. +Then all at once your little mouth began to tremble, and +lifting up your arms, you cried out, as if her tender grief +had hurt you. That brought the tears into my eyes. +So we all sat there crying together, though hardly a word +had been spoken up to then. Still I knew what it all +meant, and reaching out my arms, took you to my own +bosom."</p> + +<p>"Bless you for it," murmured Ruth.</p> + +<p>"Another baby had slept in that bosom once, and somewhere +in God's great universe I knew that she might find +it among the angels, and care for it as I meant to care +for you, Ruthy."</p> + +<p>"She did! She does! Only that child is so much +happier than I am," sobbed Ruth, tenderly. "She has +all the angels; I only you!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mason lifted her plump hand, with which she +patted the young creature's cheek, and said that she +was a good child, and always had been; only a little +headstrong, now and then, which was not to be wondered<span class="pagenum">[189]</span> +at, seeing it was out of the question that she, though she +meant to be a kind godmother, could altogether fill the +place of that sweet, dead mother; she must be at her +duties there in "The Rest," while Jessup was obstinate, +and would keep the child with him.</p> + +<p>"And you are all the mother I have now," said Ruth, +who had listened with forced patience. "To whom else +can I go?"</p> + +<p>"Why, to no one. I should like to see man or woman +attempt to cheat me out of my trust! I will say this +for Jessup, headstrong as he is about having you with +him, he has not interfered. When it was my pleasure to +have you taught things that only ladies think of learning, +he never thought of having a word to say against it; so +I had my own way with my own money, and you will +know the good of all the learning when you are old +enough to go among people, and think of a husband, +which must not be for years yet."</p> + +<p>Ruth sighed heavily.</p> + +<p>"Meantime, my dear," continued the housekeeper, +"we must be looking about for the proper person. With +the learning we have given you, and certain prospects, +we shall have a right to look high. Not among the +gentry, though you will be pretty enough and bright +enough for most of them, according to my thinking; but +there are genteel tradespeople in the village, and they +sometimes creep up among the gentry in these times. So +who knows that you will not be made a lady in that way?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! Do not speak of it—do not think of it!" +said Ruth, with nervous energy. "I cannot bear that!"</p> + +<p>"What a child it is! but I like to see it. Forward +young things are my abomination; but you may as well +know it first as last, Ruthy. When I promised your<span class="pagenum">[190]</span> +dying mother to be a mother to you, it was not in words; +but deep down in my heart, I gave you that other child's +place. I am an old woman, and have saved money, +which would have been hers, and shall be yours some of +these days."</p> + +<p>Ruth let her head fall on the kind housekeeper's +shoulder, and burst into a passion of tears. Again the +old woman patted her upon the cheek.</p> + +<p>"Why, child, what is the matter? I thought this +news would make you happy. Take this for your comfort, +my savings are heavier than people think."</p> + +<p>"Don't! oh, don't! I cannot bear it," sobbed the +girl. "Everybody—that is almost everybody—is far +too kind: you above all. Only—only it is not money I +want just now."</p> + +<p>"But my dear—"</p> + +<p>"All the money in the world, if you could give it me, +could not be so much as the thing I asked just now," +Ruth broke in, made desperate as the subject of her wish +seemed drifting out of sight. "I want it so much—so +much."</p> + +<p>"My child, it is impossible. What would Sir Noel +say? What would the Lady Rose say?"</p> + +<p>"She has no right. What is it to her?" cried the +girl, stung by a sharp pang of jealousy, which overmastered +every other feeling.</p> + +<p>"Ruth!"</p> + +<p>"Forgive me. I am so unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Ruth, I do not understand. You do not cry like a +child, but as women cry when their hearts are breaking."</p> + +<p>"My heart is breaking."</p> + +<p>"Poor child! Is it about your father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, oh, yes! My father!"<span class="pagenum">[191]</span></p> + +<p>"But the doctors say he is better."</p> + +<p>"He is better; but we fear trouble, great trouble."</p> + +<p>"Where? How?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Mason, I must tell you, or you will not +let me see him. They will try to make out that the +young master shot my father."</p> + +<p>"They? Who? I should like to meet the man who +dares say it, face to face with me."</p> + +<p>Ruth shuddered. She had met the man, and his evil +smile haunted her.</p> + +<p>"It may be that it is only a threat," she said; "but it +frightened us, and made my father worse."</p> + +<p>"But he knows—surely he knows? What does your +father say?"</p> + +<p>"The man's rude talk threw him into a fever. He +was quite wild, and tried to get up and dress himself, +that he might come and see Wa—, the young master, +at once."</p> + +<p>"Why, the man was crazy," exclaimed Mrs. Mason.</p> + +<p>"He seemed like it. I could not keep him in bed, +and only pacified him, by promising to come myself. +You see now why it is that I must speak with Mr. +Walton."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see," observed the housekeeper, now quite bewildered. +"But had you not better go to Sir Noel?"</p> + +<p>"No! no! My father bade me speak to no one but +the young master."</p> + +<p>"Well, well! if he knows about your coming, I don't +so much mind. Wait a bit, and I will send for Webb, +Sir Noel's own man, who is in the young master's chamber +night and day. I will have a nice bit of supper +served up here, and that will keep him while you can +steal into the room without trouble."<span class="pagenum">[192]</span></p> + +<p>Ruth flung her arms around the good woman's neck, +and covered her face with grateful kisses.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how good you are—how good you are!"</p> + +<p>"Well! well! Remember, dear, if I give you your +own way now, it is because of your father."</p> + +<p>"I know—I know; but how soon? It is now after +dark!"</p> + +<p>The housekeeper rung her bell. Then, as if struck +with a new thought, told Ruth to go into her bedroom, +and not attempt to enter any other part of the house, till +she knew that Webb was safe down at the supper-table. +Ruth promised, and stealing into the bedroom, sat down +on a couch and waited.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had she left the room, when Mrs. Hipple, +the companion of Lady Rose, came in, and heard the +orders Mrs. Mason gave regarding Webb. A certain +gleam of intelligence shot across that shrewd old face, +and after making some trifling errand, she went out, with +a smile on her lips.</p> + +<p>For half an hour Ruth sat in the darkness with her +head bowed and her hands locked. It seemed an age to +her before she heard the clink of cups, and the soft ring +of silver. Then, listening keenly, she heard a man's +voice speaking with the housekeeper. This might be +Webb. She was resolved to make sure of that, and, +walking on tip-toe across the carpet, noiselessly opened +the door far enough to see that personage seated by the +housekeeper, eating a dainty little supper.</p> + +<p>Quick as a bird, Ruth stole through the opposite door, +up the servants' stair-case, and along the upper hall, on +which the family bed-chambers opened.</p> + +<p>Trembling with excitement, which oppressed her to +faintness, she turned the latch, and stole into the chamber,<span class="pagenum">[193]</span> +but only to pause a step from the door, dumb and cold, +as if, then and there, turned into stone.</p> + +<p>Another person was in the room, standing close by the +bed, with the glow of its silken curtains falling over the +soft whiteness of her dress, and the rich masses of her +golden hair. It was Lady Rose.</p> + +<p>A moment this fair vision stood gazing upon the inmate +of the bed, then her face drooped downward, and +seemed to rest upon the pillow, where another head lay. +The night-lamp was dim, but Ruth could see this, and +also that the lady sunk slowly to her knees, and rested +her cheek against a hand, around which her fingers were +enwoven.</p> + +<p>Not a word did that young wife utter. Not a breath +did she draw, but, turning swiftly, fled.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> + +<p class="h3">BY MY MOTHER IN HEAVEN.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>RUTH JESSUP</b> stood by her father's bed, white as +a ghost, and cold as a stone. Her step, usually so +light, had fallen heavily on the floor as she entered the +room—so heavily that the sick man started in his bed, +afraid of some unwelcome intrusion. The room was +darkened, and he did not see how pale his child was, +even when she stood close to him.</p> + +<p>"Did you see him? Did you tell him to keep a close +lip? Does he know that I would be hacked to pieces +rather than harm him? Why don't you speak, Ruth?"<span class="pagenum">[194]</span></p> + +<p>"I saw him, father; but that was all," answered the +girl, in a voice that sounded unnatural to him.</p> + +<p>"That was all? Did you not give him my own +words?"</p> + +<p>"No, father! Another person was with him. I had +no power to speak."</p> + +<p>The old man groaned, and gave an impatient grip at +the bed-clothes.</p> + +<p>"I will get up. I will go myself!"</p> + +<p>With the words on his lips, the old man half-rose, and +fell back upon his pillow with a gasp of pain.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! do not try to move. It hurts you so!" +said Ruth, bending over him.</p> + +<p>"But he must be told. That young man threatens +us. He must be told! So rash—so young. He might—Oh!"</p> + +<p>"Father! father! You are killing yourself!"</p> + +<p>"No, no, child! I must not do that. Never was a +poor wounded man's life of so much consequence as +mine is now."</p> + +<p>Ruth bent over him, and he saw that she was silently +crying.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! what would I do—what would I do?" +she sobbed.</p> + +<p>The gardener's eyes filled with pity.</p> + +<p>"Aye. What would you? But I am not dead yet. +There, there! wipe your eyes. We shall live to go away +from this dreary place, and take the trouble with us—the +trouble and the shame."</p> + +<p>A flash of fire shot through the pallor of Ruth Jessup's +face. She drew her slender figure upright.</p> + +<p>"Shame! No, father. Sick or well, I will not let +you say that. No shame has fallen upon us."<span class="pagenum">[195]</span></p> + +<p>"Ruth! Ruth! You say this?"</p> + +<p>"Father, I swear it! I, who tremble at the sound of +an oath, knowing how sacred a thing it is. I swear it +by my mother, who is in heaven!"</p> + +<p>The old man reached up his arms, and drew the girl +down to his bosom, which was heaving with great wave-like +sobs.</p> + +<p>"My child! my child! my own—own—"</p> + +<p>He murmured these broken words over her. He +patted her shoulder; he smoothed her hair with his +great, trembling hand. His sobs shook the bed, and a +rain of tears moistened his pillow.</p> + +<p>"You believe me, father?"</p> + +<p>"Would I believe your mother, could she speak from +her place by the great white throne? The mother you +have sworn by!"</p> + +<p>"The mother I have sworn by," repeated Ruth, lifting +her eyes to heaven.</p> + +<p>"Thank God! Thank God! Ah, Ruth! my child! +my child!"</p> + +<p>The locked agony, which was not all physical pain, +went out of the old man's face then. His eyes softened, +his lips relaxed; a deep, long breath heaved his chest. +After this he lay upon his pillow, weak as a child, and +smiling like one.</p> + +<p>Thus Ruth watched by him for an hour; but her face +was contracted with anxiety, that came back upon her +after the calm of her father's rest. She had told him the +truth, yet how much was kept back? There was no +shame to confess; but oh, how much of sorrow to endure! +Danger, too, of which Hurst should be warned. +But how, with that fair woman by his side—how could +any one approach him with counsel or help?<span class="pagenum">[196]</span></p> + +<p>Jessup stirred on his pillow. An hour of refreshing +sleep had given him wonderful strength. That surgeon, +when he took the bullet from his chest, had not given +him half the relief found in the words which Ruth had +uttered. But out of those words came subjects for reflection +when his brain awoke from its slumbers. If +Ruth spoke truly, what object could have led to his own +wounds? Why had young Hurst assaulted him if there +was nothing to conceal—no vengeance to anticipate? +Then arose a vague consciousness that all was not clear +in his own mind regarding the events that had brought +him so near death. The darkness of midnight lay under +those old cedars of Lebanon. He had seen the figure of +a man under their branches that night, but remembered it +vaguely. A little after, when the bullet had struck him, +and he was struggling up from the ground, he did see a +face on the verge of the moonlight, looking that way. +That face was Walton Hurst. Then all was black. He +must have fainted.</p> + +<p>But how had the young man been wounded? There +had been a struggle—Jessup remembered that. Perhaps +he had wrested the gun from his assailant, and struck +back in the first agony of his wound; but of that he had +no certainty—a sharp turn, and one leap upon the dark +figure, was all he could remember.</p> + +<p>What motive was there for all this? Better than his +own life had he loved the family of Sir Noel Hurst—the +young heir most of all. What cause of enmity had +arisen up against him, a most faithful and always favored +retainer? Ah, if he could but see the young man!</p> + +<p>But that was impossible. Both were stricken down, +and Ruth had failed to carry the message of conciliation +and caution that had been intrusted to her. Even when<span class="pagenum">[197]</span> +writhing under a sense of double wrong, his love for the +young man had come uppermost; and in the desperate +apprehension inspired by Richard Storms, he had urged +Ruth to go and warn the heir.</p> + +<p>In health he might not have done this; for, though +anything but a vindictive man, Jessup was proud in his +manly way, and would have shrunk from that means of +reassuring the man who had hurt him; but there was +still continued riots of fever in his brain, and in the terror +brought on him by Storms he had forgotten all the rest. +Indeed, he had been incapable of cool reasoning from the +first; but his affectionate nature acted for itself.</p> + +<p>Now, when the pressure of doubt regarding his own +child was removed, a struggle to remember events +clearly came on, which threatened to excite his nerves +into continued restlessness. He was constantly pondering +over the subject of that attack, and the morning found +him dangerously wakeful.</p> + +<p>"My child."</p> + +<p>Ruth, who had been resting in an easy-chair, was by +his side in an instant.</p> + +<p>"I am here, father, but you have not slept. How +bright your eyes are!"</p> + +<p>"Ruth, have I been out of my head again, or did you +say something in the night that lifted the stone from my +heart? Is it all or half a dream?"</p> + +<p>"I told you only the truth, father."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but that truth was everything. It may change +everything."</p> + +<p>"Do not talk so eagerly, father; the doctor will scold +me when he comes."</p> + +<p>"Let him scold. You have done me more good, +child, than he ever can; but you look worn out, your +eyes have dark stains under them."<span class="pagenum">[198]</span></p> + +<p>"I shall be better now," answered the poor girl, turning +her face away.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, everything will turn out right as soon as I +can see him. Anyway, my lips shall never tell a word +of it. All the courts in the world could not draw that +out of me. He thought I was doubting him—that I +meant to harm him, may be. Youth is so quick to act—so +quick!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, did he—did he do it?" cried Ruth, with +a quick, passionate outburst.</p> + +<p>"Have I not said that nothing should make me +answer that, lass? No one shall hurt the young master +with my help."</p> + +<p>Ruth questioned her father no more. His words had +confirmed her worst fears. It seemed to her as if all +the world had arrayed itself against her feeble strength. +But one ray of light broke through her troubles. Her +father was better. He evidently believed in her. The +bitter pain had all gone out from his heart. He smiled +upon her when she left the room, and tasted of the +breakfast she prepared for him with something like a +return of appetite.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE BARMAID OF THE TWO RAVENS.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>NORSTON'S REST</b>" had its village lying within +a mile of the park gate, mostly inhabited by the +better sort of small tradespeople, with laborers' cottages +scattered here and there on the outskirts, with more or +less picturesqueness. From the inhabitants of this village<span class="pagenum">[199]</span> +and a large class of thrifty farmers, tenants on the estate, +the public house drew its principal support.</p> + +<p>One evening, just after the heir of "Norston's Rest" and +its gardener were taken up wounded and insensible in +the park, a party of these persons was assembled in the +public room, talking over the exciting news. Among +them was young Storms, who was referred to and called +upon for information more frequently than seemed pleasant +to him.</p> + +<p>"How should I know?" he said; "the whole affair +happened in the night. There wasn't likely to be +any witnesses but the young heir and the old man +himself. Who knows that it wasn't a chance slip of +the trigger?"</p> + +<p>A hoarse laugh followed this speech, and the drinking-cups +were set down with a dash of derision as one +after another took it up.</p> + +<p>"A chance slip of the trigger! Ha, ha, ha! Who +ever heard tell of a gun going off of itself and killing +two men—one at the muzzle and t'other with the stock?" +exclaimed one. "Most of us here have handled a gun +long enough to know better than that. Come, come, +Storms, tell us summat about it, for, if any man knows, +it's yoursel'."</p> + +<p>"I," said Dick, lifting both hands in much astonishment, +while his face gave sinister confirmation of the +charge. "How should I know? What should bring +me into that part of the park?"</p> + +<p>"In that part of the park—as if a more likely place +could be found for you. Besides, some one said that +you were out that very night, and you never gave the +lie to it."</p> + +<p>"Well, and if I was, what should bring me to the<span class="pagenum">[200]</span> +cedars, lying straight in the way between 'The Rest' +and Jessup's cottage? My road home lay on the +other side."</p> + +<p>This was said with a covert smile, well calculated to +excite suspicion of some secret knowledge which the +young man was keeping back.</p> + +<p>"Did you order more wine, sir?"</p> + +<p>Storms half leaped from his chair, but sat down again +instantly; casting a swift glance at the barmaid, who +was apparently occupied in changing some of the empty +bottles for others that were full.</p> + +<p>"Judith Hart!"</p> + +<p>The name had almost broken from his lips, but he +checked it promptly, and pushing his empty glass toward +her, looked smilingly in her face, and said, +"I was afraid you had forgotten me."</p> + +<p>There was a subtle thrill of persuasion in his voice, +some meaning far deeper than his words, that turned the +girl's averted look to his own.</p> + +<p>"No," she answered, almost in a whisper, "it is not +me that forgets."</p> + +<p>Dick breathed again; a tone of reproach had broken +through the hard composure of her first speech. In +reaching forth his cup he managed to touch the girl's +hand. She drew it back with a jerk, and flashing a +wrathful glance at him left the room.</p> + +<p>Meantime the conversation had been going on among +the other occupants of the room.</p> + +<p>"The doctor says that it may go hard with Jessup. +One was saying, 'the ball went clear through him.' As +for the young master—".</p> + +<p>"Ah, he will be all right in a day or two. There was +no great hurt; nothing but a blow on the head, which<span class="pagenum">[201]</span> +laid him out stark a while, and left him crazy as a loon; +but that is nothing like a hole through the body."</p> + +<p>"If Jessup should die, now," said another.</p> + +<p>"Why, then, there would be a sharp lookout for the +murderer. Now Sir Noel will have nothing done."</p> + +<p>"There may be a reason for that," said Storms, coming +forward, and speaking in a sinister whisper.</p> + +<p>The man, thus addressed, lifted the pewter cup, newly-filled +with beer, to his mouth and drank deeply, giving +Dick a long, significant look over the rim.</p> + +<p>"Least said soonest mended," he answered, in a low +voice, wiping the foam from his lips. "At any rate, +where the family up there is concerned. Sir Noel is not +likely to make a stir in the matter; and as for Jessup—"</p> + +<p>"Jessup is a stubborn fool," said Storms, viciously.</p> + +<p>"Not if Sir Noel makes it worth his while. I would +rather have a hundred gold sovereigns in my pocket any +day than see a dashing, handsome youngster like one we +know of at the assizes; though it would be a rare sight +in old England."</p> + +<p>"Yes, a rare sight. A rare sight!" said Storms, rubbing +his thin hands with horrid glee. "I would go +half over England to see it. Only as you say, old +Jessup loves gold better than vengeance. If he had +died now—"</p> + +<p>"Why, then, there would be no evidence, you see."</p> + +<p>"Don't you be so sure of that," said Storms, "he may +die. Men don't get up so readily with bullet-holes +through them. He may, and then—"</p> + +<p>Here the young man took his wine from the barmaid, +and began to sip its contents, drop by drop, as if it had +a taste of vengeance he was prolonging to the utmost.</p> + +<p>The girl watched him, and a strange smile crept over +her mouth.<span class="pagenum">[202]</span></p> + +<p>"Here, drink with me, lass," he said, holding the +glass toward her. "Drink with me, and fill again; +there is enough for us both."</p> + +<p>"No," said the girl, pushing the glass away; "not +here or now."</p> + +<p>Storms saw that the men around his portion of the +table were occupied, and spoke to her in a swift, low +voice:</p> + +<p>"When and where?"</p> + +<p>The girl gave her head a toss, and moved down the +table, casting a look over her shoulder, which made the +young man restless in his seat. Directly she came back, +and leaning close to him, while her hand was busy with +the glasses, whispered sharply:</p> + +<p>"To-night, after the house is closed, I want to see you, +face to face, just once more."</p> + +<p>"That will do," whispered Storms; "and a nice time I +shall have of it," he thought, with some apprehension.</p> + +<p>"A fine lass that," said the man who sat nearest him, +as the barmaid moved across the room, with the force +and rude grace of a leopardess. "Kin to the mistress +here, isn't she—a cousin?"</p> + +<p>The man spoke loud enough for others to hear, and +followed the girl with bold, admiring eyes.</p> + +<p>Storms answered him with sneering sarcasm. He +felt this to be imprudent, but could not suppress the +venom of his nature, even when his heart was quaking +with terror.</p> + +<p>"I have not inquired into her pedigree. You may +be more interested. She is a little out of my level."</p> + +<p>He was about to say more, but checked himself, and +ended his speech more cautiously: "If she has kinsfolk +here, none of us ever heard of them."<span class="pagenum">[203]</span></p> + +<p>"But where did she come from?" questioned the man, +who was greatly interested in the singular girl. "Such +black hair and eyes should be of a strange land. There is +nothing English about her but her speech. Look at her +face; the color burns through it like wine."</p> + +<p>"Now that she looks fierce," said another, "one sees +how handsome a fiery woman can be. Some one has +stirred up her temper. He may find himself the worse +for it. The fellows are shy of angering her, take my +word on that. She has a quick hand, and a sharp +tongue; but her bright, comely face brings customers +to the house. A tidy girl is the new one. Only keep +the right side of her, that's all."</p> + +<p>Just then the barmaid came back into the room. +There was something in her appearance that might have +reminded one of Ruth Jessup, could the soul of a wild +animal have harbored in the form of that beautiful girl. +The same raven hair, and large eyes; the same rich complexion, +joined to features coarser, sensuous, and capable +of expressing many passions that Ruth could not have +imagined. As she stood, with a sort of easy grace, the +purely physical resemblance was remarkable; but when +she moved or spoke, it was gone. Then the coarse +nature came out, and overwhelmed the imagination.</p> + +<p>"Where did she come from?" asked Judith's new +admirer.</p> + +<p>"Better ask her yourself," answered Storms, absolutely +jealous that any one should admire the beauty he had +begun to loathe.</p> + +<p>"I will," said the man, and, leaving the table, he +approached Judith with a jaunty exhibition of gallantry, +which she received with a cold stare, and, turning +from him, walked back into the bar.<span class="pagenum">[204]</span></p> + +<p>Storms broke into a laugh, and followed the girl into +her retreat. Even in that brief interval he had arranged +his plan of action, and carried it out adroitly. The +girl knew that he was coming, and stood there, like a +leopard in its den, ready to fight or be persuaded, as her +heart swayed to love or resentment.</p> + +<p>"This is madness; it is cruel to your old father—hard +on me. Twice have I been to the house, and found it +empty."</p> + +<p>The fire went out of Judith's face. Bewildered, baffled +and ready to cry, she turned away with a gesture that +Storms took for unbelief of what was indeed a glib +falsehood.</p> + +<p>"No one could tell me where to look for you. Of all +places in the world, how could I expect to find you +here?"</p> + +<p>"You have been to the old house?" said Judith. "Is +this true? Tell me, is it the truth?"</p> + +<p>"The truth!" repeated Storms, with a look of amazement. +"What should prevent me going as usual?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing but your own will. Nothing but—"</p> + +<p>"But what, Judith?"</p> + +<p>"But her—the girl that lives in the park at 'Norston's +Rest.'"</p> + +<p>"That story again! How often shall I be called upon +to tell you it is sheer gossip?"</p> + +<p>"But you told it yourself to the landlord at our +village."</p> + +<p>"Not as a fact; but amusing myself with the absurd +things that are said about one; things that one repeats +and laughs about with the first man he meets."</p> + +<p>Judith bent her eyes downward; their proud defiance +was extinguished; the heaviness of repentant shame fell<span class="pagenum">[205]</span> +upon her. Before she could speak, a call outside startled +them both. Storms broke off the interview with some +hurried snatches of direction.</p> + +<p>"Take the highway; here is a key to the little park-gate; +turn to the left, the wilderness lies that way. In +its darkest place you will come upon a lake. There is an +old summer-house on the bank: I will be there; if not, +wait for me. You will not mind the walk?"</p> + +<p>"No, no!"</p> + +<p>"Good-night, then."</p> + +<p>Storms said this and was gone. Judith went back to +the public room. There the company had fallen into +more confidential conversation.</p> + +<p>"No wonder the young man is put about so," said one. +"Old Jessup was as good as his father-in-law, and of +course he feels it. Then there is a story going that the +heir was over sweet on pretty Ruth, the daughter, and +that, no doubt, has made more bitterness. For my part, +I think the young man bears it uncommonly well."</p> + +<p>"Uncommonly well," answered another. "This poaching +in our cottages, whenever a young face happens to +grow comely there, is a shame that no man should put +up with. I shouldn't wonder if Jessup had made a +stand against it, and got a bullet through him for interfering. +Our young lords make nothing of putting an old +man aside when he dares to stand between a pretty +daughter and harm. But see how the law waits for them. +Had it been Storms, now, he would have been in jail, +waiting for the assizes. Yet who could have blamed +him? The girl was his sweetheart, and a winsome lass +she is. But Storms will never wed her now."</p> + +<p>"Wed her—as if the young gentleman ever thought +of it!" said Judith, breaking into the conversation.<span class="pagenum">[206]</span> +"There is your beer, man; let it stop your mouth till +more sense comes into it."</p> + +<p>The man laughed and cast a knowing glance at his +companions. "Hoity-toity! Lies the wind in that quarter?" +he said. "Well, I had begun to suspicion it."</p> + +<p>This outburst was received with shouts of laughter, +and a loud rattling of pewter. This was an ovation that +the landlady liked to witness; for half the value of her +new barmaid to the public house lay in her quick wit +and saucy expression. Even the fierce passions into +which she was sometimes thrown amused the men who +frequented that room, and enticed them there quite as +much as the beer they drank.</p> + +<p>"One thing is sure," said Judith's tormentor, renewing +the conversation with keener zest: "Storms has lost a +pretty wife and a good bit of money by this affray."</p> + +<p>Judith turned deadly white, and specks of foam flew +to her lips.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I mean it."</p> + +<p>"That Richard Storms and Ruth Jessup would have +been wed now, if this affray at the park had not happened? +Is that what you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Mean? Why, lass, there is not a man here who +does not know it. Ask him, if you can't believe us."</p> + +<p>"I will!" answered the girl, between her white teeth. +"That is the very question I mean to put to him before +the sun rises."</p> + +<p>These words were uttered in a voice so low and broken +that no one heard it. She was silent after that, and went +about her work sullenly.<span class="pagenum">[207]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE OLD LAKE HOUSE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>THE</b> park at "Norston's Rest" was divided by a +swift stream that flowed into it from the distant +uplands, separating the highly cultivated portions +from the wilderness. Jessup's cottage was within the +pleasure grounds, but its upper windows overlooked a +small but deep lake, formed by a ravine, and the hollows +of a rocky ledge, which made an almost bottomless gulf, +into which the mountain stream emptied itself, and after +losing half its volume in some underground outlet glided +off down the valley.</p> + +<p>Nothing could be more wild and picturesque than this +little lake, embosomed, as it was, with thrifty evergreens, +fine old trees, and rocks, to which the ivy clung in +luxuriant draperies. At its outlet, where the sun shone +most of the day, wild hyacinths and mats of blue violets +empurpled the banks before they appeared in any other +place, and a host of summer flowers kept up the blossom +season sometimes long after leaf-fall. Near this spot, +the brightest of all the wilderness, stood an old summer-house, +built by some former lord of "The Rest." Jessup +had trained wild roses among the ivy that completely +matted the old building together, and around its base had +allowed the lush grasses to grow uncut, casting their +seed, year by year, until the most thrifty reached to the +balustrades of a wooden balcony that partly overhung +the lake in its deepest part.</p> + +<p>Nothing could be more picturesque than this old building, +when the moon shone down upon and kindled up<span class="pagenum">[208]</span> +the waters beneath it, with a brightness more luminous +than silver. The shivering ivy, the flickering shadows +of a great tree, that drooped long, protecting branches +over it, formed a picture that any artist would have got +up at midnight to look upon. Still a more practical man +might have pronounced its old timbers unsafe, and its +position, half perched on a bank, with its balcony over +the water, dangerous as it was picturesque.</p> + +<p>Be this as it may, two persons stood within this building, +after eleven o'clock at night, revealed by the same +moon that looked down on those two wounded men, now +struggling for life in the proud old mansion and the +humble cottage. It was curved like the blade of a sickle +then. Now, its rounded fulness flooded the whole wilderness, +breaking up its darkness into massive shadows, all the +blacker from contrast with the struggling illumination.</p> + +<p>The waterfall at the head of the lake was so far off +that its noise gave no interruption to the voices of these +two persons when they met, for Storms had arrived +earlier than the girl, and lay apparently asleep on one of +the fixed seats, when Judith Hart came in, breathless +with fast walking, and gave forth sharp expletives of +disappointment when she supposed the summer-house +empty.</p> + +<p>"Not here. The wretch—the coward! I knew it—I +knew it! He never meant to come. Does he think I +will trapse all this way, and wait for him? If I do, +may I—Ha!"</p> + +<p>The girl stopped at the door, through which she was +angrily repassing, with the invective cut short on her lips.</p> + +<p>"Hallo! Is it you, Judith? I began to think you +wasn't coming, and dropped asleep. But, upon my soul, +I was dreaming about you all the time."<span class="pagenum">[209]</span></p> + +<p>"Here you are!" said the girl, coming slowly back. +"How was one to know—lying there like a log? That +isn't the way one expects to be met after a walk like +this!"</p> + +<p>"Why, what's the matter? The walk is just nothing +for an active girl like you, but I hope you had no trouble +in getting out."</p> + +<p>"I've had trouble in everything; nothing but trouble, +since I first knew you, and I've just come to tell you, +that, according to my idea, you are a treasonable, +traitorous—"</p> + +<p>"Judith Hart!"</p> + +<p>"Cut that off short. I come here to have my say, +and nothing more. From this night out you and I are +two. Remember that. I'm not to be taken in a second +time."</p> + +<p>Storms arose from the bench, and shook himself, as if +he had really been asleep.</p> + +<p>"What on earth are you grumbling about, Judith +Hart? What has a fellow been doing since nightfall +that you come down upon him with a crash like this, +after keeping him on the wait in this damp hole till his +limbs are stiff as ramrods!"</p> + +<p>"They'll be stiffer before I'm fool enough to believe +you again, you may be sure of that."</p> + +<p>"Hoity-toity! What's the row? Who has forgotten +to fee the barmaid, I wonder? Or is it that the mistress +begins to suspect that there has been more stealing +out than she knows of, or I either?"</p> + +<p>The young man said this in a half-jeering tone, that +drove the girl wild.</p> + +<p>"You say that! You dare to say that!" drawing her +wrathful face close to his, till both their evil countenances<span class="pagenum">[210]</span> +were defined by the moonlight. "I tell you now that +such words are as much as your life is worth."</p> + +<p>Storms laughed, sunk both hands into the pockets of +his velveteen jacket, and laughed again, leaning against +the wall of the old summer-house.</p> + +<p>"There, there, Judith! Enough of that! I don't +want to be tempted into doing you a harm; far from it. +But neither man nor woman must threaten Dick Storms. +No one but a lass he is sweet upon would dare do it."</p> + +<p>"Dare! I like that!"</p> + +<p>"But I don't like it. Once for all, tell me what this +is all about."</p> + +<p>"You know, as well as I do, that it is everywhere +about that you were plighted to the girl up yonder when +her father was hurt."</p> + +<p>"But you know that there isn't a word of truth in it."</p> + +<p>"Not true! Not true! Oh, Richard, I have seen +with my own eyes."</p> + +<p>Judith lifted her finger threateningly, and shook it +close to the young man's face.</p> + +<p>"Well, what have you seen?" questioned Dick, a little +hoarsely; and even in the moonlight the girl could detect +a slow pallor stealing over his face.</p> + +<p>"I have been at the inn yonder longer than you know +of," she said. "This isn't the first time I've been in the +park at night."</p> + +<p>He started back a pace, then turned upon her. The +cunning of his nature rose uppermost; he spoke to her +low and earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Then you must know that I don't want the lass, and +wouldn't take her at any price, though I don't care to +say that."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you deny going to the gardener's cottage +at all?"<span class="pagenum">[211]</span></p> + +<p>"No, I don't. Why should I? If you were watching +me, so much the better. I wish you had listened to +every word I said to her; hating her as you do, it would +have done you good, and set all this nonsense at rest."</p> + +<p>"But you went?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I went."</p> + +<p>"And—and—"</p> + +<p>"And told her, then and there, that nothing should +force me to wed her. She had set the old man and the +young master to nagging me about it. Neither they nor +she gave me an hour's peace."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Richard! Richard! Is this true?"</p> + +<p>"But for my love of you, I might have given in—"</p> + +<p>"I don't care that for such love," cried the girl, tearing +a leaf of ivy from a spray that had crept through +the broken window, and dashing it to the floor. "I +want you to love me better than all the world beside. +No halving. I want that, and nothing else."</p> + +<p>"And haven't you got it? When did you see me +walking out with her, or meeting her here like this?"</p> + +<p>"She wouldn't come."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't she?"</p> + +<p>Storms laughed as he repeated the audacious insinuation, +"Wouldn't she?"</p> + +<p>Judith threw off her defiant attitude, and the sharp +edge left her speech, which became almost appealing.</p> + +<p>"Richard Storms! Was it for my sake?"</p> + +<p>"I won't answer you; you don't deserve it, suspicioning +a fellow like that."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry."</p> + +<p>"Yes, after pushing me on to—to anything rather +than be nagged, at home and up yonder, about wedding +the girl, you come here, when I expected a pleasant<span class="pagenum">[212]</span> +meeting, with your scolding and threats. It's enough to +drive a man into marrying out of hand."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Dick! You wouldn't do that."</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>"You don't know?"</p> + +<p>"If you ever try this on again, I may. One doesn't +stand threats, even from the sweetheart he loves better +than everything else—that is, if he is a man worth +having." +"But I didn't threaten you! I only—"</p> + +<p>"Said what you must never say again, if you don't +want to see me wedded down in yon church, with a farm +of my own, and a fortune waiting, which they are willing +to pay down, and ask no questions. A pretty lass +pining for me too."</p> + +<p>"Pretty! Oh, Richard, this is too bad! You have +told me a hundred times that of the two, I was—"</p> + +<p>The girl broke off and turned away her face.</p> + +<p>"And I have told you the truth, else they would have +had me fast before this. Both the young master and the +old man were threatening me with the law. You might +have heard them."</p> + +<p>"No. I was never near enough."</p> + +<p>"Well, they did, though; and but for you, I might +have given in."</p> + +<p>"But you never—never will!"</p> + +<p>"So long as you keep quiet, I'll stand out."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Richard, no mouse was ever so quiet as I will +be. Now, say, was it all for my sake?"</p> + +<p>"What else could it be?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Only it is so strange. And Richard! +Richard! I will die before—You understand—I would +die rather than harm you."<span class="pagenum">[213]</span></p> + +<p>"That is my own brave lass. Now you are like +yourself, and we can part friends—better friends than +ever."</p> + +<p>"Part! It is not so late."</p> + +<p>"But the moon is up, and you will be seen by the +village people. They must have no jibes to cast on my +wife when you and I are wed."</p> + +<p>The girl's eyes flashed in the moonlight, which came +broadly through a glass door that led upon the old +wooden balcony.</p> + +<p>A smile crept over Storms' subtle lips. He was rather +proud of his victory over this beautiful Amazon. The +brilliant loveliness of her face in the softening light was +so like that of Ruth Jessup, that he astonished the handsome +virago by taking her head between his hands, and +kissing her with something like tenderness.</p> + +<p>His heart recoiled from this caress the next moment, +as the prodigal son may have loathed the husks he eat, +when he was famishing for corn; but Judith sat down +upon the hard wooden seat, and covering her face with +both hands, broke into a passion of delicious tears.</p> + +<p>This outbreak of tenderness annoyed the young man, +who was hating himself for this apostacy from the only +pure feeling that had ever ennobled his heart, and he +said, almost rudely, +"Come, come, there is nothing to cry about; I am +sorry, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Sorry!" repeated the girl, lifting her happy, tearful +face into the moonlight. "Ah, well, I will go home, now. +Good-night, if you will not go with me a little way."</p> + +<p>"We must not be seen together," answered Richard, +opening the door for her to pass out; "only remember, +I have trusted you."<span class="pagenum">[214]</span></p> + +<p>The girl went to the door, hesitated a moment, and +stepped back.</p> + +<p>"Will you kiss me again, Richard? It shall be the +seal of what I promised."</p> + +<p>"Don't be foolish, girl," said Dick, stooping his head +that she might kiss him. "You women are all alike; +give them an inch and they will take an ell. There, +there; good-night."</p> + +<p>Storms stood behind the half-open door, and watched +the barmaid as she took the little path which led to the +postern gate which Ruth had used on the morning of her +wedding-day. A key to this gate had been intrusted to +the young man, and he had duplicated it for the girl +who had just left him.</p> + +<p>When Judith was quite beyond his vision, Storms +retired back into the summer-house, and examined it +with strange scrutiny. There was but one window, a +single sash that opened into the balcony, answering for a +second door, which was quite sufficient to light the little +apartment. Through this window the moonlight fell +like a square block of marble, barred with shadows. To +Storms it took the form of a tombstone lying at his feet, +and he stepped back with a sort of horror, as if some evil +thought of his had hardened into stone which he dared +not tread upon; going cautiously around it, and gliding +along the wall, but with his eyes turned that way, he +escaped from the building.<span class="pagenum">[215]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE NEW LEASE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>SIR NOEL</b>, farmer Storms is here, wanting to see +you about something important, he says."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel Hurst was sitting in his library, looking and +feeling more like his old self than he had done for days.</p> + +<p>"I will see him presently," he said, almost smiling, +"but not quite yet. Tell him to wait."</p> + +<p>The servant retired, and Sir Noel began to walk up +and down the room, rubbing his white hands in a gentle, +caressing way, as if some joyous feeling found expression +in the movement. The physician had just left him, with +an assurance that the son and heir for whose life he had +trembled was now out of danger. He had heard, too, +that William Jessup was slowly improving, and the +burden of a fearful anxiety was so nearly lifted from his +heart that he saw the fair form of Lady Rose coming +through the flower-garden, beneath his window, with a +smile of absolute pleasure. A flight of stone steps led to +the balcony beneath the window, and the young lady +lingered near them, looking up occasionally, as if she +longed to ascend, but hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Sweet girl! Fair, noble girl," thought Sir Noel, as +he looked down upon the lovely picture she made, +standing there, timid as a child, with a glow of freshly-gathered +flowers breaking through the muslin of her +over-skirt, which she used as an apron. "God grant +that everything may become right between them, now."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel stepped to the window with these thoughts in +his mind, and beckoned the young lady to come up.<span class="pagenum">[216]</span> +She caught a glance of his face, and her own brightened, +as if a cloud had been swept from it. She came up the +steps swiftly, and paused before the window, which Sir +Noel flung open.</p> + +<p>"I saw the doctor, but dared not question him. You +will tell me, Sir Noel; but I feel what the news is. +You would not have called me had it been more than I—than +we could bear."</p> + +<p>"I would not, indeed, dear child. God knows if I +could endure all this trouble alone, it would not be so +hard."</p> + +<p>"I have been down yonder every day, Sir Noel; so +early in the morning, sometimes, that it seemed as if the +poor flowers were weeping with me. Oh, how often I +have looked up here after the doctors went away, hoping +that you would have good news, and notice me!"</p> + +<p>"I saw you, child, but had no heart to make you +more sorrowful."</p> + +<p>"Did you think him so fearfully dangerous, then?" +questioned the lady, with terror in her blue eyes. "I +tried to persuade myself that it was only my fears. +Every morning I came out and gathered such quantities +of flowers for his room, but he never once noticed them, +or me—"</p> + +<p>"You! Have you seen him, then?"</p> + +<p>A flood of crimson swept that fair face, and the white +lids drooped over the eyes that sunk beneath his.</p> + +<p>"No—no one else could arrange the flowers as he liked +them. Once or twice—but only when his eyes were +closed. I never once disturbed him."</p> + +<p>"Dear child, how he ought to love you!"</p> + +<p>Sir Noel kissed the crimson forehead, which drooped +down to the girl's uplifted hands, and he knew that the<span class="pagenum">[217]</span> +flush, which had first been one of maiden shame, was +deepened by coming tears.</p> + +<p>"There, there, my child, we must not grieve when the +doctors give us hope for the first time. He is sleeping, +they tell me, a calm, natural sleep. Go, and arrange +these flowers after your own dainty fashion. He will +notice them when he awakes. Already he has called the +doctor by name."</p> + +<p>"Oh, uncle! dear, dear guardian, is it so?"</p> + +<p>The girl fell upon her knees by a great easy-chair that +stood by, and the blossoms, no longer supported by her +hand, fell in glowing masses around her as she gave way +to such happy sobs as had never shaken her frame before. +At last she looked up, smiling through her tears.</p> + +<p>"Is it really, really true?" she questioned, shaking +the drops from her face.</p> + +<p>"Go, and see for yourself, Rose."</p> + +<p>"But he might awake, he might know."</p> + +<p>"That an angel is in his room? Well, it will do him +no harm, nor you either."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose looked down at the flowers that lay scattered +around her, and gathered them into the muslin +of her dress again. She was smiling, now, yet trembling +from head to foot. Would he know her? Would +the perfume of her flowers awaken some memory in his +mind of the days when they had made play-houses in +the thickets, and pelted each other with roses, in childish +warfare? How cold and distant he had been to her of +late! Would he awake to his old self? Would she ever +be able to approach him again without that miserable +shrinking sensation?</p> + +<p>"Sir Noel," she said, "I think my own father would +never have been so kind to me as you are."<span class="pagenum">[218]</span></p> + +<p>"I am glad you think so, child, for that was what I +promised him on his death-bed. That and more, which +God grant I may be able to carry out."</p> + +<p>"I cannot remember him," said Lady Rose, shaking +her head, as if weary with some mental effort.</p> + +<p>"No; he left us when you were a little child. But +we must not talk of this now."</p> + +<p>"I know! I know! Just a moment since I was in +such haste. Now I feel like putting it off. Isn't it +strange?"</p> + +<p>Sir Noel understood better than that fair creature +herself the significance of all these tremors and hesitations. +Now that his first fears were at rest, they both +touched and amused him, and a smile rose to his lips +as she glided from the room, leaving a cloud of sweet +odors behind her.</p> + +<p>Into this delicate perfume old farmer Storms came a +few minutes after, looking stolid, grim, and clumsily +awkward. The nails of his heavy shoes sunk into the +carpet at every step, and his fustian garments contrasted +coarsely with the rich cushions and sumptuous draperies +of the room.</p> + +<p>"Well, Sir Noel, I've come about the new lease, if +you've no objection. I want your word upon it; being +o'er anxious on the young man's account."</p> + +<p>"Why, Storms, has there been any disagreement +between you and the bailiff? It has always been my +orders that the old tenants should have preference when +a lease dropped in."</p> + +<p>"Well, as to that, Sir Noel, it isn't so much the lease +itself that troubles one; but Dick and I want it at a +lighter rent, and we would like a new house on the +grounds agin the time when the lad will get wed, and<span class="pagenum">[219]</span> +want a roof of his own. That is what we've been thinking +of, Sir Noel."</p> + +<p>"A new house?" said Sir Noel, astonished. "Why, +Storms, yours is the best on the place. It was built for +a dower house."</p> + +<p>"Aye, aye! I know that; but as our Dick says, no +house is big enough or good enough for two families. +The lad is looking up in the world a bit of late. He +means to take more land; that is why I come about the +lease; and we shall give up our home to him and his +wife."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said Sir Noel. "What has he been doing +to warrant this extraordinary start in the world?"</p> + +<p>"Something that he means to keep to himself yet +a while, he says, but it is sure, if things turn out rightly. +So I want a promise of the lease, and all the other things, +while the iron is hot. He told me to say nothing about +it, only to ask, in a civil way, if the young master had +come to his senses yet, or was likely to. He is awful +fond of the young master, is my son, and sends me +o'er, or comes himself to the lodge every day to hear +about him. He would be put about sorely if he knew +that I had let on about the house just yet; but I can see +no good in waiting. You will kindly bear it in mind +that we shall want a deal more than the lease. Dick +says he's sure to have it, one way or another; and a rare +lad for getting his own will is our Dick."</p> + +<p>There was something strange in the extravagance of +this request, that made the baronet thoughtful. He felt +the stolid assumption of the old man, but did not resent +it. Some undercurrent of apprehension kept him prudent. +He only replied quietly, +"Well, Storms, the lease is not out yet. There is<span class="pagenum">[220]</span> +plenty of time," and, with a wave of the hand, dismissed +the old man.</p> + +<p>In the hall Storms was astonished to find his son +waiting, apparently careless, though his eyes gleamed +with suppressed wrath. He followed the old man out, +and once under the shelter of the park, turned upon +him.</p> + +<p>"What were you doing in there?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, Dick! Only asking after the young +master, and talking a bit with the baronet."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">SHARPER THAN A SERPENT'S TOOTH.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>YOUNG STORMS</b> was very restless after his midnight +interview with Judith Hart, and became +feverishly so when he discovered that the elder Storms +had begun to move in his affairs more promptly than he +desired. He walked on by the old farmer with a frown +on his face, and only spoke when his own footsteps bore +him ahead of the stronger and more deliberate stride, +which goaded his impatience into anger. There was, +indeed, a striking contrast between the two men, which +even a difference in age could not well account for. Old +Storms was a stoutish man, round in the shoulders, +slouching in his walk, and of a downcast countenance, in +which a good deal of inert ability lay dormant. There +was something of the son's cunning in his eye, and +animal craving about the mouth, but if the keen venom +which repulsed you in the younger man ever existed in<span class="pagenum">[221]</span> +the father, it had become too sluggish for active wickedness, +except, perhaps, as the subordinate of some more +powerful nature.</p> + +<p>That nature the old man had fostered in his own +family, of which Richard was the absolute head, before +he became of legal age. If the old man had been a +tyrant over the boy, as many fathers of his class are supposed +to be in the mother land, Richard avenged his +youth fully when it merged into manhood. As the two +walked together across the park, toward their own farm, +it was pitiful to see such gleams of anxiety in that old +man's eyes, whenever they were furtively lifted to the +stern face of the son.</p> + +<p>Once, when Dick got ahead of his father, walking +swiftly in his wiry activity, he paused, and cut a sapling +up by the roots with his heavy pruning-knife, and stood, +with a grim smile on his face, trimming off the small +branches, and measuring it into a slender walking-stick.</p> + +<p>"Art doing that for me, lad?" said the old man, in a +voice that did not sound quite natural. "Nay, nay, I +am not old enough for a stick yet a while. My old bones +aren't so limber as thine, maybe; but they'll do for me +many a year yet, never fear."</p> + +<p>The young man made no answer, but smiled coldly, +as he shook the sapling with a vigor that made the air +whistle around him. Then he walked on, polishing up +the knots daintily with his knife as he moved.</p> + +<p>"More'n that," continued the old man, eying his son +wistfully; "there isn't toughness enough there for a +walking-stick, which should be something to lean on."</p> + +<p>"It'll do," answered Dick, closing his knife, and thrusting +it deep into his pocket. "It'll do, for want of a +better."<span class="pagenum">[222]</span></p> + +<p>"Ha, ha," laughed the old man, so hoarsely that his +voice seemed to break into a timid bark. "That was +what I used ter say when you were a lad, and I made +you cut sticks to be lathered with. Many a time the +twig that you brought wouldn't hurt a dormouse. Ah, +lad, lad, you were always a cunning one."</p> + +<p>"Was I?" said Dick. "Well, beating begets cunning, +I dare say."</p> + +<p>By this time they were getting into the thick of the +wilderness, a portion of the park little frequented, and in +which the lonely lake we have spoken of lay like a pool +of ink, the shadows fell so blackly upon it.</p> + +<p>Here Richard verged out of the usual path, and struck +through the most gloomy portion of the woods. After a +moment's hesitation, the old man followed him, muttering +that the other path was nearest, but that did not +matter.</p> + +<p>When the two had left the lake behind them, Richard +stopped, and wheeling suddenly around, faced his father.</p> + +<p>"Now, once for all, tell me what took you to 'The Rest' +this morning; for, mark me, I'm bound to know."</p> + +<p>"I—I have told ye once, Dick. I have—"</p> + +<p>"A lie. You have told me that, and nought else."</p> + +<p>"Dick, Dick, mind, it's your father you are putting +the lie on," said the old man, kindling up so fiercely that +his stooping figure rose erect, and his eyes shone beneath +their heavy brows like water under a bank thick with +rushes.</p> + +<p>"What took you up yonder, I say?" was the curt +answer. "I want the truth, and mean to have it out of +you before we go a stride farther. Do you understand, +now?"</p> + +<p>"I went to ask after the young maister," was the sullen +reply.<span class="pagenum">[223]</span></p> + +<p>"The truth! I will have the truth—so out with it, +before I do you a harm!"</p> + +<p>"Before ye do your old father a harm! Nay, nay, lad, +it has no come to that."</p> + +<p>Dick bent the sapling almost double, and let it recoil +with a vicious snap, a significant answer that kindled the +old man's wrath so fiercely that he seized upon the offending +stick, placed one end under his foot, and twisted +it apart with a degree of fury that startled the son out of +his sneering insolence.</p> + +<p>"Now what hast got to say to your father, Dick? +Speak out; but remember that I am that, and shall be +till you get to be the strongest man."</p> + +<p>The thin features of Richard Storms turned white, and +his eyes shone. He had depended too much, it seemed, +on the withering influence his insolent overbearance had +produced on the old man, whose will and strength had at +last been aroused by the audacious threat wielded in that +sapling. Whether he really would have degraded the +old farmer with a blow or not, is uncertain; but, once +aroused, the stout old man was more than a match for his +son, and the force of habit came back upon him so powerfully, +that he began to roll up the cuffs of his fustian +jacket, as if preparing for an onset.</p> + +<p>"Say out what there is in you, and do it gingerly, or +you'll soon find out who is maister here," the old man +said, with all the rough authority of former times.</p> + +<p>The young man looked into his father's face with a +glance made keen by surprise. Then his features relaxed, +and he burst into a hoarse laugh.</p> + +<p>"Why, father, did you think I was about doing you +a harm with that bit of ash? It was for a goad to the +cattle I was smoothing it off."<span class="pagenum">[224]</span></p> + +<p>"Ah!" ejaculated the old man.</p> + +<p>"But you have twisted it to a wisp now."</p> + +<p>"That I have, and rare glad I am of it."</p> + +<p>"It don't matter," said the son. "I can find plenty +more about here. But the thing we were talking of. +Did Sir Noel kick in the traces when ye came down upon +him about the lease?"</p> + +<p>A gleam of the young man's own cunning crept into +the father's eyes.</p> + +<p>"The lease, Dick? Haven't I said it was the young +maister's health that took me to 'The Rest?'"</p> + +<p>Richard made a gesture that convulsed his whole +frame, and, jerking one hand forward, exclaimed, +"It was for your own good, father, that I asked; so I +don't see why you keep things so close."</p> + +<p>"An' I don't know why a child of mine should ask +questions of his own father like a schoolmaster, or as if +he were ready for a bout at fisticuffs," answered the old +man.</p> + +<p>"It's a way one gets among the grooms and gamekeepers; +but it means nothing," was the pacific answer. +"I was only afraid you might have dropped a word about +what I told you of, and that would have done mischief."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"Just now, father, half a word might spoil everything."</p> + +<p>"Half a word! Well, well, there was nought said +that could do harm. Just a hint about the lease, nothing +more. There, now, ye have it all. A fair question at +the first would ha' saved all this bother."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure this was all?" asked the young man, +eying his father closely.</p> + +<p>"Aye. Sure."<span class="pagenum">[225]</span></p> + +<p>"Hush! One of the gamekeepers is coming."</p> + +<p>"Aye, aye."</p> + +<p>Old Storms moved forward, as the intruder came up +with a pair of birds in his hands, which he was carrying +to "The Rest."</p> + +<p>Richard remained behind, for the man met him with +a broad grin, as if some good joke were on his mind.</p> + +<p>"Good-morrow to ye," he said, dropping the birds upon +a bed of grass, as if preparing for a long gossip.</p> + +<p>"Dost know I came a nigh peppering thee a bit yon +night, thinking it war some poachers after the birds; but +I soon found out it was a bit of sweethearting on the sly? +Oh, Dick, Dick! thou'lt get shot some night."</p> + +<p>"Sweethearting! I don't know what you mean, +Jacob."</p> + +<p>"Ye don't know that there was a pretty doe roving +about the wilderness one night this week, just at the time +ye passed through it?"</p> + +<p>"Me, me?"</p> + +<p>"Aye. No mistake. I saw ye with my own eyes in +the moonlight."</p> + +<p>"In the moonlight? Where?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, in the upper path, nearest thy own home."</p> + +<p>Richard drew a deep breath.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that! I thought you said by the lake."</p> + +<p>"Nay, it was the lass I saw, taking covert there."</p> + +<p>"What lass? I saw none!"</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!" laughed the gamekeeper, placing a hand on +each knee, and stooping down to look into his companion's +eyes. "What war she there for, then? Tell +me that."</p> + +<p>"How should I know?"</p> + +<p>"And what wert thou doing in the wilderness?"<span class="pagenum">[226]</span></p> + +<p>"What, I? Passing through it like an honest Christian, +on my way home from the village."</p> + +<p>"Well, now, that is strange! Dost know, I got half +a look at the doe's face, and dang me! if I didn't think +it was Jessup's lass."</p> + +<p>A quick thought shot through that subtle brain. Why +not accept the mistake, throw the reputation of the girl +who had scorned him into the power of this man, and +thus claim the triumph of having cast her off when the +certainty of her final rejection came? After a moment's +silence, and appearing to falter, he said:</p> + +<p>"You—you saw her, then? You know that it was +Ruth Jessup?"</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! Have I run ye to covert? Yes, I a'most +saw her face; an' as to the figure, any man, with half an +eye, would know that. There isn't another loike it within +fifty miles o' 'The Rest.'"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, Jacob, as you saw her and me so close, +I'll not deny it. A lass will get fractious, you know, +when a fellow is expected, and don't come up to time, +and follow one up, you understand. We have been +sweethearting so long, and the old ones being agreeable, +perhaps she is a trifle over restless about my hanging +back."</p> + +<p>"Aye, aye. This story about the young maister being +o'er fond of her. I wouldn't put up with that."</p> + +<p>Storms nodded his head mysteriously.</p> + +<p>"You'll say nothing about her coming to seek me that +night."</p> + +<p>"In course not. Only I wouldn't a thought it of +Jessup's lass, she looks so modest like."</p> + +<p>"But when a lass is—is—"</p> + +<p>"O'er fond, and afraid of losing her sweetheart. Still, +I wouldn't a thought it of her anyhow."<span class="pagenum">[227]</span></p> + +<p>"You're not to think hard of her for anything, friend +Jacob, because we may be wed after all, and no one must +have a fling at my wife, mind that. When I give her +up will be time enough."</p> + +<p>The gamekeeper laughed, and nodded his head, perhaps +amused at the idea that a bit of gossip, like that, could +escape circulation, in a place already excited on the subject +of Jessup and his daughter. Storms having given +the impression he desired, took a watch from his pocket, +and glanced at the dial.</p> + +<p>"It's wonderful how time flits," he said, putting the +watch back. "It's near dinner-time, and the old man +will be waiting. Mind that you keep a close mouth. +Good-day!"</p> + +<p>"Good-day ter ye," responded the gamekeeper, picking +up his birds, and smoothing their mottled feathers as he +went along. "I wouldn't a thought it of yon lass, +though, not if the parson himself had told me. That I +wouldn't."</p> + +<p>Meantime young Storms walked toward home, smiling, +nay, at times, laughing, as he went. The cruel treachery +of his conversation with the keeper filled him with vicious +delight. He knew well enough that the whole subject +would be made the gossip of every house in the village +within twenty-four hours, and revelled in the thought. +If it were possible for him to marry Ruth in the end, this +scandal would be of little importance to him; if not, it +should be made to sting her, and poison the returning life +of young Hurst. Under any circumstances, it was an evil +inspiration, over which he gloated triumphantly.</p> + +<p>So full was the young plotter's brain of this idea, that +he was unconscious of the rapidity with which he +approached home, until the farm-house hove in view, a<span class="pagenum">[228]</span> +long, stone building sheltered by orchards, flanked by +outhouses, and clothed to the roof with rare old ivy. It +was, in truth, something better than a common farm-dwelling, +for an oriel window jutted out here, a stone +balcony there, and the sunken entrance-door was of solid +oak; such as might have given access to "The Rest" +itself.</p> + +<p>There had been plenty of shrubbery, with a bright +flower-garden in front, and on one side of the house; but +of the first, there was only a scattering and ragged bush +left to struggle for life, here and there, while every sweet +blossom of the past had given way to coarse garden +vegetables, which were crowded into less and less space +each year, by fields of barley or corn, that covered what +had once been a pretty lawn and park.</p> + +<p>"Ah, if I could but get this in fee simple. If he had +died I might!" thought the young man, as he walked +round to the back door. "If he had only died!"</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE SICK MAN WRITES A LETTER.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>WILLIAM</b> Jessup seemed to be getting better +rapidly after those few words with Ruth, that +had lifted a mountain of pain from his heart, pain deeper +and keener than the biting anguish of his wound, or the +fever which preyed upon him continually, though he +scarcely felt it, now that the anguish of mind was gone.</p> + +<p>"I shall be better, I shall be quite well, only let me +get one word to him. He is so rash. Ah, when that is<span class="pagenum">[229]</span> +done, I can rest a little," he kept thinking to himself, +for the subject seemed so distasteful to Ruth that he +shrunk from naming it to her. "If the old man Storms +would but come, I might trust him; but he always sends +that lad, who frightens Ruth. Poor child, poor child!"</p> + +<p>Ruth was sitting by her father's bed when these +thoughts possessed him, and broke out in a tremulous +exclamation, his eyes fastened tenderly on her.</p> + +<p>"What is it, father? What are you thinking of? +Nothing ails me. I must not be pitied at all while you +are ill, or only because of that. What are you thinking +about?"</p> + +<p>"Only this, Ruthy. Don't let it bother you, though. +Only, if I could get a word to the young master—"</p> + +<p>Ruth shrunk visibly from the anxious eyes bent upon +her, but forced herself to answer, calmly, +"If I could see him one minute, alone. Oh, if I +could," she said, clasping the hands in her lap till the +blood fled from them, "but it would be of no use trying."</p> + +<p>All at once Jessup rose from his pillow, but leaned +back again, gasping for breath.</p> + +<p>"Put another pillow under my head, and prop me up +a bit. I will write a line with my own hand. I wonder +we never thought of it before. Bring me a pen, and +the ink-bottle. The big Bible, too, from yon table. It +will be all the better for that."</p> + +<p>Ruth obeyed him at once. Why had she never thought +of this? Surely a letter could be got to that sick-chamber +without danger. That, at least, would relieve her +father's anxiety, and remind Hurst of her.</p> + +<p>Why had she never thought of it before? That was +not strange; Jessup was no letter writer, and, save a few +figures, now and then, Ruth had not seen him use a pen<span class="pagenum">[230]</span> +half a dozen times in her life. It seemed a marvel to +her even then that he should undertake so unusual a task.</p> + +<p>The girl had a pretty desk of her own, otherwise a +supply of ink and paper might have been wanting. As +it was, she brought both to her father's bed, and arranged +the great Bible before him, that he might use them at +once.</p> + +<p>At any time it would have been a severe task that the +gardener had undertaken; but now his weak fingers +shook so fearfully that he was compelled to lay the pen +down at every word, almost in despair. But the great +heart gave his hand both strength and skill. After +many pauses for rest, and struggles for breath, a few +lines were written, and this was what they said:</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">My Dear Young Master</span>:—Have no fear about +me. I have sworn, in soul, before Almighty God, to +keep all that is within me a secret forever. No law and +no blame shall ever reach you through me. Oh, that my +eyes had been struck blind before they saw your face +that night, when you shot me down! I would have +groped in darkness to my grave, rather than have seen +what I did. Sometimes I think it must have been all +a dream. But it haunts me so—it haunts me so. Your +father saved my life once. Maybe I am saving his now. +I hope so. Do not fear about me. I shall not be more +silent in death than I am in life.</p> +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">William Jessup.</span>"</p></blockquote> + +<p>Many a misspelt word did this short epistle contain. +Many an uncouth letter that linked sentences running +riot with each other; but the spirit of a high resolve was +there, and the good man exhausted the little strength left +to him in writing it.<span class="pagenum">[231]</span></p> + +<p>"You will seal this," he whispered, hoarsely, giving +her the paper to fold and direct. "Some one will take +it to him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will go. He shall get it. How, I do not +know; but if he is well enough to read it, the paper shall +reach him."</p> + +<p>"And no one else. Remember that."</p> + +<p>"I will remember. Oh, father, what is this terrible +thing?"</p> + +<p>"Be silent, Ruth. I will not have you question me."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, father."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes."</p> + +<p>The poor man spoke in painful gasps. The old Bible +seemed to bear him down; he struggled under the weight, +but could not remove it.</p> + +<p>Ruth lifted the book in her arms, settled the pillows +under her father's head, and would have stayed by him, +but he motioned her away.</p> + +<p>Oh, how precious, yet how perilous that paper seemed +to the poor girl! He would touch it. His eyes would +follow the jagged lines. They would bring assurance of +safety to him. He might even guess that she had been +the messenger through whom it had reached him. She +did not understand the meaning of this important scrawl. +With regard to that, her mind was swayed by vague uncertainties, +but she knew that it was pacific, and intended +for good.</p> + +<p>Ruth tied on her bonnet, and set forth for "The Rest" +at once, with the precious letter in her bosom, over which +she folded her scarlet sacque with additional caution.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps—perhaps I shall see him. It might have +meant nothing, after all. He could not be so false. +Lady Rose is like a sister to him, that is all! I am so<span class="pagenum">[232]</span> +foolish to care; so very, very foolish. But, then, how +can I help it?"</p> + +<p>The day was so beautiful, that such hopeful thoughts +came to Ruth with the very atmosphere she breathed. +The birds were singing all around her, and a thousand +summer insects filled the air with music. Coming, as +she did, from the close seclusion of a sick-room, all these +things thrilled her with fresh vigor. Her step was light +as she walked. The breath melted like wine on her red +lips. Once or twice she paused to snatch a handful of +violets from the grass, and drank up their perfume +thirstily.</p> + +<p>At last she came out into the luxurious beauty of the +pleasure-grounds close to "The Rest," and from thence, +looked up to the window where her young husband lay, +all unconscious of her coming. Perhaps she had hoped +that he might be well enough to sit up. Certainly, when +she saw no one at the window, her heart sunk, and a +deep sigh escaped her. It would not do to be found +there by any of the household. She felt that, and bent +her steps towards the servants' entrance, heavy-hearted +and irresolute.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">WITH THE HOUSEKEEPER.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>THE</b> housekeeper was more than usually busy that +day, but she greeted her favorite with affectionate +warmth. "You there, my poppet," she said, seating +herself for a talk. "I have been wondering why you +kept away so long, now that the doctors tell me that +your father is coming round."<span class="pagenum">[233]</span></p> + +<p>"I wished to come, godmother. Indeed, I never +stopped thinking about you here; but there is no one to +stay by father when I leave him, and he needs care."</p> + +<p>"Of course he does, and something else as well. I +was just putting up a bottle or two of our choice old +Madeira, with some jellies, and the cook is roasting a +bird, which he must eat with the black currant-jelly, +remember. We must build your father up, now, with +nice, strengthening things. They would do you no +harm, either, child. Why, how thin and worried you +look, Ruth! This constant nursing will break you down. +We must send over one of the maids, to help."</p> + +<p>"No, no; I can do very well. Father is used to me, +you know. Only, if you wish to be kind—"</p> + +<p>"Wish to be kind? Did I ever fail in that, goddaughter?"</p> + +<p>"Did you ever? Indeed, no. Only I am always +asking such out-of-the-way things."</p> + +<p>"Well, well. What is it, now?"</p> + +<p>"I have a letter from my father to—to the young +master."</p> + +<p>"From your father? When did he ever write a letter +before, I wonder? And he sick in bed? A letter—"</p> + +<p>"That I want to deliver into Wal—into Mr. Hurst's +own hands, if you will only help me, godmother."</p> + +<p>"Into his own hands? As if any other trusty person +wouldn't do as well," said the housekeeper, discontentedly.</p> + +<p>"But I should not be so certain, godmother."</p> + +<p>"Ah, true. Is the letter so important, then?"</p> + +<p>"I—I don't know, exactly. Only father was very +particular about it."</p> + +<p>"Well, give me the letter. I will see that he gets it safe."</p> + +<p>Ruth still pressed her hand against her bosom, and a +look of piteous disappointment broke into her eyes.<span class="pagenum">[234]</span></p> + +<p>"Is he so very ill, then? Might I not just see him +for a minute, and take the answer back?"</p> + +<p>"The young master is better, but not half so well as +he strives to be. I never saw any one so crazy to get +out."</p> + +<p>"Is he—is he, though?"</p> + +<p>"And about your father. He is always questioning +me if I have heard from the cottage."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Why, child, how chirpish you speak, all at once! I +hardly knew your voice. But what was I saying? Ah, +I remember. Yes, yes! The young master scarcely got +back his speech before he began to question us about +Jessup, whose hurt seems to wound him more than +his own. To pacify him Lady Rose sent round every +morning."</p> + +<p>"Lady Rose! Did the messengers come from her?" +questioned Ruth, and her voice sunk again.</p> + +<p>"Of course. Sir Noel, in his trouble, might have +forgotten; but she never did. Ah, goddaughter, that +young lady is one in a thousand, so gentle, so lovely, +so—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! I know—I know!"</p> + +<p>"Such a match as they will make."</p> + +<p>Ruth turned very pale; still a singular smile crept +over her lips. She said nothing, however, but walked +to a window, and looked out, as if fascinated by the rich +masses of ivy that swept an angle of the building like +black drapery.</p> + +<p>"How the ivy thrives on that south wall!" she said, +at last. "I can remember when it was only a stem."</p> + +<p>"Of course you can; for I planted it on the day you +were born, with my own hands. There has been time<span class="pagenum">[235]</span> +enough for it to spread. Why, it has crept round to the +young master's window. He would have it trained that +way."</p> + +<p>"Godmother, how good you are!"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it, child. Only I was always careful of +that ivy. Ruth's ivy, we always call it, because of the +day it was planted."</p> + +<p>"Did—did any one else call it so?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, or the young master would never have +known of it. 'Let me have,' says he, 'just a branch or +two of your ivy—what is its name, now?—for my corner +of the house.' Well, of course, I told him its name, and +how it came by it, which he said was a pretty name for +ivy, or any other beautiful thing, and from that day a +thrifty branch was trained over to the balcony where he +sits most, and sometimes smokes of an evening."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember," said Ruth, breaking into smiles. +"Some climbing roses are tangled with it."</p> + +<p>"True enough; they throve so fast, that between +them, the little stone-steps that run up to the balcony +were hid out of sight; but Lady Rose found them out, +and carries her flowers that way from the garden when +she fills the vases in his room."</p> + +<p>"She always did that, I suppose," said Ruth, in a low +voice.</p> + +<p>"Most likely," answered the housekeeper, carelessly, +as if that young creature did not hang on every word she +uttered with unutterable anxiety. "Most likely. There +is little else that she can do for him just now."</p> + +<p>"Does he need so very much help now, godmother?"</p> + +<p>"None that a dainty young lady can give; but when +he begins to sit up, her time will come. Then she will sit +and read to him from morning till night, and enjoy it too."<span class="pagenum">[236]</span></p> + +<p>"And tire him dreadfully," muttered Ruth, with a +dash of natural bitterness in her voice.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Anyway I shouldn't care about it; +but people vary—people vary, Ruth! You will find +that out as you get along in life. People vary!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I dare say," answered Ruth, quite unconscious +of speaking at all. "You are very wise in saying so."</p> + +<p>"Ah, wisdom comes with age; generally too late for +much good. If one could have it now in the wild-oat +season; but that isn't to be expected. Speaking of Lady +Rose, here comes her pony-carriage, and here comes herself, +with Sir Noel, to put her in. Do you know, Ruth, +I don't think the master has been quite himself since +that night. There is an anxious look in his eyes that I +never saw there before. It should go away now that +Mr. Walton is better, but somehow it don't."</p> + +<p>Ruth did not answer. She was looking through the +window at the group of persons that stood near a pony-carriage, +perfect in all its equipments, which was in front +of the house. Lady Rose, who had come down the steps +leisurely, side by side with Sir Noel, was loitering a +little, as if she waited for something. She examined the +buttons of her gloves, and arranged her draperies, all the +while casting furtive glances up to a window, at which +no one seemed to appear, as she had hoped. Sir Noel, +too, glanced up once or twice, rather wistfully, and then +Ruth saw that his face did indeed wear a look that was +almost haggard.</p> + +<p>"Tell me—tell me! Is he so very ill yet, that his +father looks like that?" cried Ruth, struck by a sudden +pang of distrust. "I thought he was getting better."</p> + +<p>"And so he is, child. Who said to the contrary? But +that doesn't take the black cloud out of his father's +face."<span class="pagenum">[237]</span></p> + +<p>"Then he really is better?"</p> + +<p>"Better? Why, he sat up an hour yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Did he—did he, indeed?" cried Ruth, joyfully. +"Did he really?"</p> + +<p>"He did, really, and our lady reading to him all the +time."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"What did you say, child?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, nothing! But see, they are both going, I +think!"</p> + +<p>The housekeeper swayed her heavy person toward the +window, and looked out.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Lady Rose is persuading Sir Noel, who can +refuse nothing she wants. It almost seems as if he were +in love with her himself."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he is!" cried Ruth, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"One might suspect as much, if one did not know," +answered the housekeeper, shaking her head. "Anyway, +he is going with her now, and I'm glad of it. The +ride will do him good. Look, she drives off at a dashing +pace."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">UNDER THE IVY.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>RUTH</b> needed no recommendation to watch the beautiful +little vehicle that flashed down the avenue, +a perfect nest of bright colors, over which the sunlight +shone with peculiar resplendence, while the spirited +black horse whirled it out of sight.<span class="pagenum">[238]</span></p> + +<p>"Isn't she fit for a queen?" said Mrs. Mason, triumphantly, +as she wheeled round, and sought her chair +again.</p> + +<p>Ruth heard, but did not answer. A man was passing +across the lawn, who occupied her full attention.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that Mr. Webb?" she questioned.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mason half lifted herself out of the chair she was +always reluctant to leave, and having obtained a view of +the man, settled back again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is Webb; and I say, Ruth, you had better +follow, and give him that letter. He will be going back +to the young master's room, in less than half an hour. +He only leaves it to get a mouthful of air at any time. +Your letter is sure of a safe delivery with Webb."</p> + +<p>"Thank you—thank you! It will be best. Good-morning, +godmother! good-morning!"</p> + +<p>A swift clasp of two arms about her neck, a fluttering +kiss on her lips, and the good woman was left alone, +resting back in her easy-chair, with half-closed eyes, +while a bland smile hovered over her plump mouth.</p> + +<p>"What a loving little soul it is!" she muttered. +"Peaches, ripe for preserving, are not sweeter; and as +for inward goodness, she has not her match in the three +kingdoms."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mason might not have been quite so tranquil had +she seen Ruth just then, for, with the speed of a lapwing, +she had turned an angle of the house, where her own +namesake, the ivy, had already clambered, wreathing a +carved stone balcony with its greenness. Scarcely pausing +to breathe, she pushed the vines aside, and treading +some of the tender twigs under her feet, flew up the +narrow steps which were but just made visible under the +wreathing masses of foliage.<span class="pagenum">[239]</span></p> + +<p>"If she can mount them, I will find the way," was +her swift and half-triumphant thought. "Oh, Heaven +grant that the window is unfastened!"</p> + +<p>Her foot was on the carved work of the balcony; her +scarlet jacket gleamed through the plate-glass, and flashed +its vivid red through the clustering ivy leaves. Breathless +with excitement, she tried the window-sash with her +hand. It gave way, and swung inward with a faint jar. +She was in the room with her husband, yet afraid to +approach him. There he was, lying upon a low couch, +wrapped in the folds of an oriental dressing-gown, and +pillowed on a cushion of silk, embroidered in so many +rich colors, that the contrast made his white face +ghastly.</p> + +<p>What if, after all, he did not love her? What if he +should wake up alarmed, and made angry by her intrusion?</p> + +<p>There is no feeling known to a woman's heart so timid, +so unreasoning, so exacting, as love: pride, devotion, +humility—a dozen contending elements—come into action +when that one passion is disturbed, and it would be rashness +to say which of these emotions may predominate at +any given time. Perfect confidence either in herself or +the creature of her love is unusual in most characters—impossible +in some.</p> + +<p>Ruth had entered that room full of enthusiasm, ready +to dare anything; but the sight of a sleeping man, one +that she loved, too, with overpowering devotion, was +enough to make a coward of her in a single moment. +Still, like a bird fascinated by the glittering vibrations +of a serpent, she drew toward the couch, and bent over +the sleeper, holding her own breath, and smiling softly +as his passed over her parted lips.<span class="pagenum">[240]</span></p> + +<p>Ah, how pale he was! How the shadows came and +went across his white forehead! Was he angry with her +even in his sleep? Did he know how near she was, and +resent it?</p> + +<p>No, no! If he knew anything in that profound +slumber, the knowledge was pleasant, for a smile stole +over his face, and some softly-whispered words trembled +from his lips.</p> + +<p>"My darling! oh, my darling!"</p> + +<p>Ruth dropped on her knees by the bed, and pressed +both hands to her mouth, thus smothering the cry of joy +that rose to it. Her movements had been noiseless as the +flutter of a bird—so noiseless that the sleeper was not +disturbed. After a while she lifted her head, stole her +arms timidly over that sleeping form, and dropped a kiss, +light as the fall of a rose-leaf, on those parted lips.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my love, my love," she murmured, in sounds +scarcely louder than a thought. "Look at me, look at +me, if it is only for one moment."</p> + +<p>Hurst opened his eyes, and smiling vaguely, as sick +men smile in dreams. That instant a noise was heard +at the door, footsteps and voices. Ruth snatched the +letter from her bosom, crushed it into the invalid's hand, +left a passionate kiss with it, and fled out of the window, +and down the ivy-choked steps. There, trembling and +frightened, she shrunk into an angle of the stone window-case, +and dragging the ivy over her, strove to hide herself +until some chance of escaping across the garden +offered. She had left the sash open in her haste, and +could hear sounds from the room above with tolerable +distinctness. The first was the sharp exclamation of a +man's voice. He seemed to be walking hurriedly across +the room, and spoke in strong remonstrance.<span class="pagenum">[241]</span></p> + +<p>"What, up, Mr. Walton, trying to walk, and the window +wide open upon you? What will the doctor say? +What shall I answer to Lady Rose, who bade me watch +by you every minute, till she came back?"</p> + +<p>Some faint words, in a voice that thrilled poor Ruth +to the soul, seemed to be given in reply to this expostulation. +But, listen as she would, the meaning escaped her.</p> + +<p>Then a louder voice spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but how am I to answer to her ladyship, or Sir +Noel, either?</p> + +<p>"'Webb,' says she, 'they will all have it so. I must +take the air, or be shut out from here when I am really +most needed. But you will not leave him? There must +be some one to answer when he speaks.'</p> + +<p>"Well, I promised her. If any one could gainsay a +wish of my Lady Rose, that one isn't old Webb. But +you were sleeping so sweetly, sir, and I knew that the +first word would be about Jessup: so I ran over to get +the news about him."</p> + +<p>Here a hurried question was asked, in which Ruth +distinguished her own name.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay. The girl was away somewhere, no doubt, +for I found the doors locked, and could get no sight of +any one. But let me shut this window, the air will be +too cold."</p> + +<p>There seemed to be some protest, and a good-natured +dispute, in which the sick man prevailed, for directly the +couch on which he lay was wheeled up to the window, +and Ruth caught one glimpse of an eager face looking +out.</p> + +<p>The girl would have given her life to run up those +steps again, and whisper one word to the man whom she +felt was watching for her. She did creep out from her<span class="pagenum">[242]</span> +covert, and had mounted a step, when Webb spoke +again.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, sir. This will never do. The window +must be closed. An east wind is blowing."</p> + +<p>A noise of the closing window followed, and with a +sigh Ruth shrunk back to her shelter against the wall, +disappointed, but trembling all over with the happiness +of having seen him.</p> + +<p>What cared she for Lady Rose then? Had he +not looked into her eyes with the old, fond glance? +Had he not reached out his arms in a quick passion +of delight as she fled from him? Was he not her husband, +her own, own husband?</p> + +<p>There, in the very midst of her fright, and her +newly-fledged joy, the young wife drew the wedding-ring +from her bosom, and kissed it, rapturously murmuring:</p> + +<p>"He loves me! He loves me! and what else do I care +for? Nothing, nothing, in the wide wide, world!"</p> + +<p>But in the midst of this unreasoning outburst, poor +Ruth remembered the father she had left a wounded +prisoner in the cottage, and a spasm of pain shot through +her. Ah, if she were sure, if she were only sure that +no secret was kept from her there. But it must be +right. Some great misunderstanding had arisen to distress +her father beyond the pain of his wounds. But +when the two beings she most loved on earth were well +enough to meet and explain, all would be clear and +bright again. Her husband had the letter safe in his +hands. She would go home at once, and tell her father +that, and afterward steal off alone, and feast on the happiness +that made her very breath a joy.</p> + +<p>Out, through the rose-thickets, the clustering honeysuckles,<span class="pagenum">[243]</span> +and the beds of blooming flowers, Ruth stole, +like a bee, overladen with honey, and carried her happiness +back to the cottage.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">A STORM AT THE TWO RAVENS.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>JUDITH HART</b>, will ye just carry the ale-cans a +little more on the balance? Can't ye mind that +the foam is dripping like suds over yer hands, and +wetting the sand on the floor till it's all in puddles?"</p> + +<p>This sharp remonstrance came from the mistress of +the house in which Judith was barmaid, and chief +attraction. The public-room was crowded that night, +not only with its old guests, but by strangers on their +way from a neighboring town, where a monthly fair was +held. The girl gave her head a toss, as this reprimand +pointed out her delinquency, and sat the two ale-cups +she carried down upon the nearest table, with a dash +that sent both foam and beer running over it in ruddy +rivulets.</p> + +<p>"If you're not pleased with the way I serve customers, +there's plenty more that would be glad of doing it better. +I'm not to be clamored at, anyway, so long as there's +other places ready for me."</p> + +<p>"An' a pretty prize they'd get!" rejoined the landlady, +putting her hands a-kimbo, and nodding her head with +such angry vehemence, that the borders of her cap rose +and fluttered like the feathers of a rageful bantam. "It's +all well enough while there's none of the better-to-do<span class="pagenum">[244]</span> +sort wanting to be served; but when they come! Hoity-toity! +My lady tosses her head at commoners, and +scorns to heed the knock of a workman's can on the +table, as if she were a born princess, and he a beggar. I +can tell ye what, lass, this wasn't the way I got to be +mistress, after serving from a girl at the tap."</p> + +<p>"And what if I didn't care that forever being mistress +of a place like this!" cried Judith, snapping her +fingers over the dripping cups, and shaking her own +handsome head in defiance of the fluttering cap, with all +it surmounted. "As if I didn't look forward to something +better than that, though I have demeaned myself +to serve out your stale beer till I'm sick of it."</p> + +<p>"Ah! ha! I understand. One can do that with half +an eye," answered the irate dame, casting a glance over +at young Storms, who sat at one of the tables, sipping +his wine and laughing quietly over the contest. "But +have a care of yourself. It may come about that chickens +counted in the shell never live to pip."</p> + +<p>Judith turned her great eyes full of wrathful appeal +on Storms, and burst into a scornful laugh, which the +young man answered by a look of blank unconcern.</p> + +<p>"You hear her! You hear her, with her insults and +her tyrannies; sneering at me as if I was the dirt under +her feet!" the girl cried out, stamping upon the sanded +floor, "and not one of you to say a word."</p> + +<p>"How should we?" said Storms, with a laugh. "It's +a tidy little fight as it stands. We are only waiting to +see which will get the best of it. Who here wants to +bet? I'll lay down half a sovereign on the lass."</p> + +<p>As he tossed a bit of gold on the table, Storms gave +the barmaid a look over his shoulder, that fell like ice +upon her wrath. She shrunk back with a nervous laugh,<span class="pagenum">[245]</span> +and said, with a degree of meekness that astonished all +in the room, +"Now, I will have no betting on me or the mistress +here. We are both a bit fiery; but it doesn't last while +a candle is being snuffed. I always come round first; +don't I now, mistress?"</p> + +<p>The good-hearted landlady looked at the girl with +open-mouthed astonishment. Her color lost much of its +blazing red, her cap-borders settled down with placid +slowness. Both hands dropped from her plump waist, +and were gently uplifted.</p> + +<p>"Did any one here ever see anything like it?" she said. +"One minute flaring up, like a house on fire, the next, +dead ashes, with any amount of water on 'em. I do +think no one but me could get on with the lass. But I +must say, if she does get onto her high horse at times, +with whip and spur, when I speak out, she comes down +beautifully."</p> + +<p>"Don't I?" said Judith, with a forced laugh, gathering +up her pewter cups. "But that's because I know +the value of a kind-hearted mistress—one that's good as +gold at the bottom, though I do worry her a bit now and +then, just to keep my hand in. If any of the customers +should take it on 'em to interfere, he'd soon find out that +we two would be sure to fight in couples."</p> + +<p>With this pacific conclusion, the girl gathered up a +half dozen empty cups by the handles, and carried +them into the kitchen. The moment she was out of +sight, all her rage came back, but with great suppression. +She dashed the cups down upon a dresser with a violence +that made them ring again; then she plunged both hands +into the water, as if that could cool the hot fever of her +blood, and rubbed the cups furiously with her palm, thus<span class="pagenum">[246]</span> +striving to work off the fierce energy of her passion, +which the studied indifference of Storms had called forth, +though its fiercest expression had fallen on the landlady.</p> + +<p>"I woke him up, anyway," she thought, while a short, +nervous laugh broke from her. "He got frightened into +taking notice, and that is something, though he kills me +for it. Ah!"</p> + +<p>The girl lifted her eyes suddenly, and saw a face looking +in upon her through the window. His face! She +dropped the cup, dashed the water from her hands, and, +opening the kitchen-door, stole out, flinging the white +apron she wore over her head.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">A PRESENT FROM THE FAIR.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>STORMS</b> was waiting for her near the door, where +he stood in shadow.</p> + +<p>"Well, now, have you come round to take a fling at +me?" said the girl, with more of terror than anger in +her voice. "If you have, I won't bear it, for you're the +one most to blame, coming here again and again, without +so much as speaking a word, though ye know well +enough how hungry I am for the least bit of notice."</p> + +<p>"This way. We are too near the house," said Storms, +seizing the girl's arm, and drawing her toward the +kitchen-garden, that lay in the rear of the building. "Let +us get under the cherry-trees; they cannot see us there."</p> + +<p>"I musn't be away long," answered the girl, subdued, +in spite of herself. "The mistress will be looking for me."<span class="pagenum">[247]</span></p> + +<p>"I know that; so we must look sharp. Come."</p> + +<p>Judith hurried forward, and directly the two stood +under the shadow of the cherry-trees sheltered by the +closely-growing branches.</p> + +<p>"What an impatient scold you are, Judith!" said the +young man. "There is no being near you without a +fear of trouble. What tempted you, now, to get into +a storm with the mistress?"</p> + +<p>"You did, and you know it. Coming in, without a +look for one, and saying, as if we were a thousand miles +apart, 'I say, lass, a pint, half-and-half mild, now.'"</p> + +<p>Judith mimicked the young man's manner so viciously +that he broke into a laugh, which relieved the apprehensions +which had troubled her so much.</p> + +<p>"And if I did, what then? Haven't I told you, more +than once, that you and I must act as strangers toward +each other?"</p> + +<p>"But it's hard. What is the good of a sweetheart +above the common, if one's friends are never to know it?"</p> + +<p>"They are to know when the time comes; I have told +you so, often and often. But what is a man to do when +his father is hot for him marrying another, and she so +jealous that she would bring both the two old men and +Sir Noel down on me at the least hint that I was fond +in another quarter?"</p> + +<p>"But when is it to end? When will they know?"</p> + +<p>"Soon, very soon, now. Have patience; a few weeks +longer, say, perhaps months, and some day you and I +will slip off and be wed safe enough. Only nothing +must be said beforehand. A single word would upset +everything. They are all so eager about Jessup's lass."</p> + +<p>"I can keep a close lip; you know that. No matter +if I do get into a tantrum now and again; no one ever<span class="pagenum">[248]</span> +heard me whisper a word about that. You understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, of course. No girl was ever safer, but we +must be cautious, very cautious. I mustn't come here +often. It is too trying for your temper."</p> + +<p>"It is. I agree to that. The sight of you sitting in +the public, so calm and cold, drives me mad."</p> + +<p>"Then I must not come."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Richard! I can't live without seeing you."</p> + +<p>"You shall see me, of course. I couldn't endure my +life without seeing you. But it must be over yonder. +You understand? You might be seen coming or going. +Some one did see you in the wilderness the other night, +and thought it was Jessup's daughter."</p> + +<p>"Did he? Yes, every one says I look like her. Now, +I like that."</p> + +<p>"So do I. It just takes suspicion off you, and puts it +on her. Won't the whole neighborhood be astonished +when she is left in the lurch, knowing how she follows +me up?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Richard, what a wonderful man you are!" said +Judith, wild with delight. "Yes, I will be so sly that +they never can find me out."</p> + +<p>"They never shall. I mean to make that sure. See +what I have brought you from the fair."</p> + +<p>Here Storms unrolled a parcel that he had left under +the cherry-trees before entering the house that evening, +and cautiously stepping into the light of a window, unfolded +a scarlet sacque and some dark cloth, such as composed +the usually picturesque dress of Ruth Jessup.</p> + +<p>"Oh, are these for me?" cried the girl, in an ecstasy +of delight. "How soft and silk-like it is! Oh, +Richard!"<span class="pagenum">[249]</span></p> + +<p>"For you! Of course; but only to be worn when +you come up yonder!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>"That is, till after we are wed. Then you shall wear +such things every day of the week, with silk dresses for +Sunday. But, till then, don't let a living soul see one +of these things. Keep 'em locked up like gold, and only +put them on when you come to the lake at night, remember. +I wouldn't for the world that any man or +woman should see how like a queen they will make you +look till they will have to say, at the same time, she is +Richard Storms' wife."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how sorry I am for having that bout with the +mistress!" said Judith, hugging the bundle which he +surrendered to her as if it had been a child she loved.</p> + +<p>"But you must promise me, on your life, on your +soul, to keep my fairing a close secret."</p> + +<p>"I will! I will!"</p> + +<p>"Without that to lay the whole thing on Jessup's +daughter with, it wouldn't be safe for you to come to +the park. The mistress would turn you away, if she +heard of it. Then where should we land?"</p> + +<p>"I will be careful. Believe me, I will."</p> + +<p>"Especially about the dress."</p> + +<p>"I know. I will be careful."</p> + +<p>"Judith! Judith Hart!"</p> + +<p>"Hush! The mistress is calling!" whispered Judith. +"It is time to shut up the house. I will run up to my +room and hide these; then help her side up, and come +out again."</p> + +<p>"No, no! That would be dangerous; but I would +like to see how the dress looks. What if you put it on +after the house is still, and come to the window with a<span class="pagenum">[250]</span> +light. I will walk about till then, and shall go home +thinking that my sweetheart is the daintiest lass in this +village or the next."</p> + +<p>"Would you be pleased? I shall be sure to put the +dress on. Oh, how I have longed for one like it! Yes, +yes! I will come to the window."</p> + +<p>Judith uttered this assurance, and darted into the +house, in time to escape the landlady, who came to the +back door just as she passed up the stairs.</p> + +<p>Storms did linger about the house until the company +had withdrawn from it, and the lights were put out, all +but one, which burned in the chamber of Judith Hart. +A curtain hung before this window, behind which he +could see shadows moving for some minutes. Then the +curtain was suddenly withdrawn, and the girl stood fully +revealed. The light behind her fell with brilliant distinctness +on the scarlet jacket, and was lost in the darker +shadows of her skirt. She had twisted back the curls +from her face with graceful carelessness; but, either by +art or accident, had given them the rippling waves that +made Ruth Jessup's head so classical.</p> + +<p>"By Jove, but she's the very image of her!" exclaimed +Storms, striking his leg with one hand. "No +two sparrows were ever more alike."</p> + +<p>This flash of excitement died out while Judith +changed her position, and flung a kiss to him through +the window.</p> + +<p>For minutes after he stood staring that way, while a +dull shudder passed through him.</p> + +<p>"She's too pretty, oh, too pretty for that!" he muttered. +"I wish it hadn't come into my mind!"<span class="pagenum">[251]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h2> + +<p class="h3">A WILD-FLOWER OFFERING.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>WHEN</b> Webb entered his master's room, after the +young wife had fled from it, he found the patient +in a high state of excitement. The flash of his eye, and +the vivid color in his cheeks, fairly frightened the good +man, who dreaded, above all things, a second attack of +the fever, which had already so nearly proved fatal.</p> + +<p>"Help me to the couch; wheel it to the window. I +want to look out; I want air!" said the young man, +flinging himself half off the bed, and reeling toward the +couch, on which he dropped, panting and so helpless +that he could only enforce his first order by a gesture. +Webb folded the dressing-gown over his master, and +wheeled the couch close to the window.</p> + +<p>"Open it! Open it!" gasped the young man, impatiently.</p> + +<p>Webb threw open a leaf of the French window. +Struggling to his elbow, young Hurst leaned out, scanning +the flower-garden with bright and eager eyes. But +the arm on which he leaned trembled with weakness, +and soon gave way. His head fell upon the cushions, +and his eyes closed wearily.</p> + +<p>"I cannot see her," he murmured, under his breath. +"I cannot see her. She could not have escaped if it had +been real. Ah, me! Why should dreams mock one +so?"</p> + +<p>"Let me close the window," said Webb, anxiously. +"The air is too much for you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, close it," answered Hurst, with a sigh; "but<span class="pagenum">[252]</span> +first look out, and tell me if you see any one moving +among the flowers."</p> + +<p>Webb stepped into the balcony and examined the +grounds beneath it. As he did this, a gust of wind +swept through the opposite door and carried with it a +folded paper, which had fallen from the invalid's hand +when he staggered up from the bed.</p> + +<p>"No," said Webb, closing the window. "I see no +one but a young woman going round to the servant's +entrance."</p> + +<p>"A young woman! Who is it? Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"No one that I have seen before. Nay, now that I +look again, it is the young woman from the public over +in the village."</p> + +<p>"What is she doing here?" questioned Hurst, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Come on some errand from her mistress to the housekeeper, +most likely," answered Webb.</p> + +<p>"At first I almost thought it was old Jessup's daughter; +but for the lift of her head, and the swing in her walk, +one might take her for that."</p> + +<p>"Old Jessup's daughter! Don't talk like a fool, +Webb," said the young man, rising to his elbow again, +flushed and angry. "As if there could be a comparison."</p> + +<p>Webb very sensibly made no reply to this; but thinking +that his master might be vexed because Lady Rose +had not brought her usual offering of flowers that morning, +changed the subject with crafty adroitness.</p> + +<p>"Lady Rose has gone out to drive in the pony carriage. +Sir Hugh would have it so," he explained.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I dare say," muttered Hurst, indifferently. +"She stays about the house too much. It is very tiresome +for her."<span class="pagenum">[253]</span></p> + +<p>The young man never closed his eyes after this, and, +with both hands under his head, lay thinking.</p> + +<p>"It was so real. I felt her kiss on my lips when I +awoke. Her hand was in mine. She looked frightened. +She left something. Webb! Webb!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Walton!"</p> + +<p>"Look on the bed. I have lost something—a paper. +Find it for me. Find it."</p> + +<p>Webb went to the bed, flung back the delicate coverlet, +and the down quilt of crimson silk: but found nothing +either there or among the pillows.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing here, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Look again. There must be a paper. I felt it in +my hand. There must be a paper."</p> + +<p>"Really, Mr. Walton, there is nothing of the kind."</p> + +<p>"Look on the floor—everywhere. I tell you it was +too real. Somewhere you will find it."</p> + +<p>Webb searched the bed again, and examined the carpet, +with a feeling of uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"The fever has come back," he thought. "He is +getting wild, again. What can have done it? He +seemed so quiet when I went out—was sleeping like a +baby."</p> + +<p>Troubled with these thoughts, the faithful fellow went +on, searching the room, without the least shadow of expectation +that he would find anything. At last he rose +from his knees, and repeated, +"There is nothing here, sir."</p> + +<p>Hurst uttered a deep sigh, and turned his head away, +weak and despondent.</p> + +<p>"Dreams, dreams," he thought. "She is always +coming, but never comes—never. Ah, this is too cruel. +Can it be so clear, and yet a dream?"<span class="pagenum">[254]</span></p> + +<p>Webb came up to the couch, hesitating and anxious. +The flush was still on his master's face. His eyelids +were closed, but they were quivering, and the long, dark +lashes were damp with tears the young man was unable +to suppress in the extremity of his weakness.</p> + +<p>"Something has happened. Who has dared to disturb +you?" said Webb, touched and anxious.</p> + +<p>"Dreams, Webb, dreams—nothing else. Help me +back to bed."</p> + +<p>Webb obeyed this request with great tenderness, and, +in a few moments, Hurst lay upon the pillows he had +left with such a burst of wild hope, completely prostrated.</p> + +<p>"Don't let me sleep again," he murmured, wearily. +"Not in the day-time. Such rest is a cheat."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you will not care to sleep now," said the servant, +"for here comes Lady Rose, with her carriage full of +ferns and flowers, from the woods. She said, this morning, +that the splendor of our roses only wearied you, and +she would find something so fresh and sweet that no one +could help admiring them. Ah, Mr. Walton, the young +lady never tires of thinking what will please you best."</p> + +<p>"I know—I know," answered Hurst, impatiently. +"She is good to every one."</p> + +<p>Just then a sweet, cheerful voice was heard in the hall. +Directly the door opened softly, and Lady Rose came in, +carrying an armful of ferns and delicate wild flowers +close to her bosom.</p> + +<p>"See, what I have brought you," she said, looking +down upon her fragrant burden with child-like delight. +"I saw how tired you were of those great standard +roses, and the ragged snow of our Japan lilies. Arrange +them as I would, they never made your eyes brighten.<span class="pagenum">[255]</span> +But these are so lovely; great, blue violets, such as only +grow around the old summer-house on the black lake. +And such ferns! You never saw anything so dewy and +delicate. Sir Noel and I brought them away in quantities; +one goes to the lake so seldom, you know. Really, +Walton, I think such things thrive best in the shadows. +See!"</p> + +<p>Lady Rose had seated herself on the couch which the +sick man had just left, and while her soft, blonde hair +was relieved by the purple velvet of the cushions, +dropped the flowers into her lap. Then she began to +arrange them into bouquets, and crowd them into vases +which Sir Noel brought to her, with an attention that +was both gallant and paternal.</p> + +<p>As she was filling the vases, Lady Rose selected the +brightest blossoms and the most delicate tufts of fern +from the mass, and laid them upon the purple of the +cushion, with a little triumphant glance at Sir Noel, +which brought to his lips one of those rare smiles that +came seldom to them in these days.</p> + +<p>When all was done, the girl gathered these choice bits +into a cluster, tied them with a twist of grass; and, +gathering up the refuse stalks and flowers in her over-skirt, +stole softly to the bed, and laid her pretty offering +on Hurst's pillow.</p> + +<p>The young man turned his head, as if the perfume +oppressed him, and a slight frown contorted his forehead. +Lady Rose observed this, and a flood of scarlet swept up +to her face. Sir Noel observed it, also, and frowned +more darkly than his son.</p> + +<p>Without a word, though her blue eyes filled with +shadows, and her white throat was convulsed with suppressed +sobs, Lady Rose left the room. Once in her own<span class="pagenum">[256]</span> +apartment, she tore back the lace curtains from the open +window, dashed all the remnants of her flowers through, +and flinging herself, face downward, on a couch, shook +all its azure cushions with a passionate storm of weeping.</p> + +<p>"He does not love me! He never will! All my +poor little efforts to please him are thrown away. Ah, +why must I love him so? Spite of it all, why must I +love him so?"</p> + +<p>Poor girl! Fair young creature! The first agony +of her woman's life was upon her, an agony of love, +that she would not have torn from her soul for the universe, +though every throb of it was a pain.</p> + +<p>"Why is it? Am I so disagreeable? Am I plain, +awkward, incapable of pleasing, that he turns even from +the poor flowers I bring?"</p> + +<p>Wondering where her want of attractions lay, humble +in self-estimation, yet feverishly wounded in her pride, +the girl started up, pushed back the rich blonde hair +from a face fresh as a blush rose with dew upon it, for +it was wet with tears, and looked into the opposite mirror, +where she made as lovely a picture as Sir Joshua ever +painted. The tumultuous, loving, passionate picture of a +young woman, angry with herself for being so beautiful +and so fond, without the power to win one heart which +was all the world to her.</p> + +<p>"I suppose he thinks me a child," she said; and her +lips began to tremble, as if she were indeed incapable of +feeling only as children feel. "Oh, if I were—if I only +could go back to that! How happy we were then. +How gladly he met me, when he came home from college! +I was his darling Rose of roses then—his little +wife. But now; but now—Is that girl prettier than +I am? Does he love her? I don't believe it. I will<span class="pagenum">[257]</span> +not believe it. She may love him. How could any +woman help it? Poor girl! poor girl, I pity her! But +then, who knows, she may be pitying me all the time! +She almost seemed to claim him that awful night. Oh, +I wish that look of her eyes would go out of my mind. +But it seems burned in."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose had ceased to weep, though her superb +blue eyes were still misty, and full of trouble, as these +thoughts swayed through her brain. Something in the +mutinous beauty of that face in the glass half fascinated +her. She smoothed back the cloud of fluffy hair from +her temples, and unconsciously half smiled on herself. +Surely, the dark, gipsy-like face of the gardener's +daughter could not compare with that. Then Walton +Hurst was so proud; the only son of a family rooted in +the soil before the Plantagenets took their title, was not +likely to mate with the daughter of a servant. Looking +at herself there in the mirror, and knowing that the blue +blood in her veins was pure as his, she began to marvel +at herself for the thought.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a>CHAPTER XL.</h2> + +<p class="h3">SEEKING A PLACE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>MRS. HIPPLE</b> came into the room and found +Lady Rose among her azure cushions, on which +she had sunk with a deep sigh, and a blush of shame, at +being so caught in the midst of her wild thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear, I wonder how your ladyship got in without<span class="pagenum">[258]</span> +my knowing it," she said, picking up the jaunty +little hat which the girl had flung on the carpet. "We +thought Sir Noel had taken you for a long drive."</p> + +<p>"No matter, you need have been in no haste to come," +said the young lady, turning her face from the light.</p> + +<p>"But this poor hat. See how the lace and flowers are +crushed together. Such a beauty as it was, and worn +for the first time. But I do think it is past mending."</p> + +<p>"Let them throw it aside, then," answered Rose, without +looking at the pretty fabric of chip, lace, and flowers, +over which Mrs. Hipple was mourning. "What is a hat, +more or less, to any one?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing to your ladyship, I know; but I haven't +seen the young master admire anything so much this +many a day."</p> + +<p>"What! What were you saying, Mrs. Hipple?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing; only what a pity it was that you would +fling things about in this fashion."</p> + +<p>"But something you said about—about—"</p> + +<p>"No, nothing particular, only when your ladyship +stopped at the door, and said 'good-morning' to the +young gentleman, he observed that he had seldom seen +you look so bright and pleasant; when I answered, that +it was, perhaps, owing to the hat which had just come +down, and was, to my taste, a beauty, he said, 'yes, +it might be, for something made you look uncommonly +lovely.'"</p> + +<p>Lady Rose started up. She was no longer ashamed of +her flushed face, but reached out her hand for the hat, +which had, indeed, been rather severely crushed by its +fall on the floor.</p> + +<p>"It is a shame!" she said, eying the pretty fabric +lovingly. "But I did not think it so very pretty. No,<span class="pagenum">[259]</span> +no, Mrs. Hipple, I will do it myself. Such a useless +creature as I am. There, now, the flowers are as good as +ever; it only wanted a touch or two of the fingers to +bring them all right; and I rather like to do it."</p> + +<p>She really did seem to like handling those sprays, +among which her fingers quivered softly, as butterflies +search for honey-dew, until they subsided into a loving +caress of the ribbons, which she smoothed, rolled over her +hand, and fluttered out with infinite satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"There, you fractious old Hipple, are you satisfied +now?" she questioned, holding up the renovated hat on +one hand; then, putting it on her head, she looked in +the glass with new-born admiration of its gracefulness. +"You see that it is none the worse for a little knocking +about."</p> + +<p>"It is just a beauty. No wonder Mr. Walton's eyes +brightened up when he saw it."</p> + +<p>Rose took the dainty fabric from her head, and put it +carefully away with her own hands; at which Mrs. +Hipple smiled slyly to her own shadow in the glass. +Directly after this the kind old lady went down to the +housekeeper's parlor, for she was not above a little family +gossip with Mrs. Mason, and rather liked the cosy restfulness +of the place. She found the good dame in an +unusual state of excitement.</p> + +<p>"A young woman had been there," she said, "after +a place as lady's-maid. She had heard in the village that +one would be wanted at 'The Rest,' and came at once, +hoping to secure the situation."</p> + +<p>"A lady's-maid!" cried Mrs. Hipple. "Why, the girl +is distraught—as if we took servants who come offering +themselves in that way at 'The Rest.'</p> + +<p>"That was just what I told her," said Mrs. Mason,<span class="pagenum">[260]</span> +laughing as scornfully as her unconquerable good nature +permitted. "I gave the young person a round scolding +for thinking the thing possible. She answered that she +thought no harm of seeking the place, as it was only in +hopes of bettering herself; for she was disgusted with +serving wine and beer at the 'Two Ravens.'"</p> + +<p>"Serving wine and beer? Why, Mason, you astonish +me," said Mrs. Hipple, lifting her hands in horror of +the idea.</p> + +<p>"Then I broke out," said the housekeeper, "and rated +her for thinking that any one fresh from the bar of a +public house could fill the place of a lady's gentlewoman, +who should be bred to the duties; at which the girl gave +her head a toss fit for a queen, and said that some day she +might have a higher place than that, and no thanks to anybody +but herself."</p> + +<p>"This must have been a forward girl, Mason. I wonder +you had patience with her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to that, it takes something, and always did, to +make me demean myself below myself," said the housekeeper, +folding her arms firmly over her bosom; "besides, +she came down wonderfully in the end, and pleaded for a +housemaid's place, as if that was the thing she had set her +heart on from the first; and it was more than I could do to +make her understand that no such person was wanted at +'The Rest.' Then she wanted me to promise that she +might have the first opening, if any of the maids should +not suit, or might leave."</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Hipple returned to the room where she had +left Lady Rose, this singular event was in her mind, and +she spoke of it with the freedom always awarded to +the beloved governess who had now become the companion +and friend of her pupil. Lady Rose gave but<span class="pagenum">[261]</span> +little attention to the subject. Her mind was too thoroughly +occupied with other thoughts for any great interest +in matters so entirely foreign to them; but she seemed +to listen. That was enough for the kind old lady, who +continued:</p> + +<p>"The girl went off at last, quite disappointed, because +she wasn't taken on at once. She was going over to +Jessup's, she said, to have a chat with his daughter. +I wonder that Ruth should not choose better company. +She is a modest thing enough, and might look to be a +lady's maid in time, without stepping very much out of +her sphere, being, as it were, bred in the shadow of 'The +Rest,' and gifted with more learning than is needful to +the place."</p> + +<p>Here Lady Rose was aroused to more vivid interest. +She looked up, and listened to every word her companion +uttered.</p> + +<p>"You are speaking of Jessup's pretty daughter," she +said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of that slender young thing, Mason's goddaughter. +Some people think her almost beautiful, with +her great black eyes, and cheeks like ripe peaches. +Then her hair is quite wonderful, and she walks like a +fawn."</p> + +<p>"You make her out very beautiful," said Lady Rose, +with a quick increase of color. "Perhaps she is—having +seen her always since we were both little girls, I have +not observed the change as others might."</p> + +<p>"Of course, how should your ladyship be expected to +think of her now that you are the first lady in the county, +and the girl only what she has always been?"</p> + +<p>Lady Rose shook her head in kindly reproof of this +speech.<span class="pagenum">[262]</span></p> + +<p>"We must not say that, Mrs. Hipple," she said. +"Ruth was my playmate as a little girl, a sweet-tempered, +pretty friend, whom you kindly allowed to study with +me as an equal."</p> + +<p>"No, no. Never as an equal. That was impossible. +She was bright and diligent."</p> + +<p>"More so than I ever was," said Lady Rose, smiling +on the old woman.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but you learned so quickly, there was no necessity +for application with you. One might as well compare +her dark prettiness with—"</p> + +<p>Lady Rose held up her hands, with a childlike show +of resistance.</p> + +<p>"There, there. If you draw pleasant comparisons, +dear Hipple, it is because you love me, but that takes +nothing from Ruth, who must be remarkably good-looking, +or people would not admire her so much."</p> + +<p>"Admired, is she? Well, I know little of that. Of +course, the servants rave about her beauty in the housekeeper's +room; I rebuked one of them only yesterday, +for saying that the gentlemen who visit at 'The Rest' go +by the gardener's cottage so often only to get a look at the +daughter, pretending all the time that it is the great show +of roses that takes them that way."</p> + +<p>"Were you not a little hard with the man, Hipple? +Sir Noel's guests—those who joined in the hunt—certainly +did seem greatly struck by her appearance as we +rode by the cottage."</p> + +<p>"No, no, the man deserved a reprimand for saying that +his young master was made angry by their praises, when +they saw her standing like a picture in the porch, for +them to look at."</p> + +<p>"You were right—excuse me, you were quite justified<span class="pagenum">[263]</span> +in rebuking him," said the lady, in breathless haste. "It +was an impertinence."</p> + +<p>"And, of all places, to say it in the housekeeper's room," +added the old lady, "and Mason to permit it; but she +thinks her goddaughter a paragon, and means to make +her the heiress of all her savings. Indeed, she intends to +give her something handsome when she is married to +young Storms."</p> + +<p>"Her marriage with young Storms!" faltered Lady +Rose, going to a window in hopes of concealing her agitation; +for the blood was burning in her face, and she +dared not meet the eyes of that shrewd old lady. "Is +that anything but a childish romance?"</p> + +<p>"It is a settled thing, my lady. We shall have a +wedding at the cottage soon after Jessup gets well."</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Hipple said this, she glided out of the room, +clasping her hands softly together as she went down the +corridor, and smiling as such women will, when conscious +of happiness adroitly conferred.</p> + +<p>Then Lady Rose looked shyly around, saw that she +was quite alone, and, coming out of her covert, began to +walk the room up and down, up and down, like some +fawn let loose in a pasture of wild flowers. Then came +a knock at the door. Lady Rose stole back to the +window, determined that no one should see her radiant +face before the intruder came in. It was a servant bearing +a message from the sick-chamber.</p> + +<p>"The young master was wholly awake now. Would +Lady Rose come and read to him a while?"</p> + +<p>Would Lady Rose come and read to the man she +loved? Would she accept the brightest corner in Paradise, +if offered to her? Ah, how her face brightened! +How soft and glad was the smile that dimpled about the<span class="pagenum">[264]</span> +mouth, so sorrowful only a little time before! With a +quick glance she looked into the mirror, and made an +effort to improve the amber cloud of hair that was most +effective in beautiful disorder. Struck with the loveliness +of her own face, she gave up the effort and went +away.</p> + +<p>"He has sent for me," was her happy thought. "He +did not mean to reject my violets. It was only because +he was not quite awake. He has sent for me! He has +sent for me!"</p> + +<p>Poor girl! She did not know that Sir Noel had been +pointing out the unkindness of his action to the invalid, +and that this message was one of almost forced atonement.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a>CHAPTER XLI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE FATHER'S SICK-ROOM.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>BREATHLESS</b> and wildly happy, Ruth Jessup +almost flew along the shaded path which led from +"The Rest" to her own humble dwelling. Now and +then she would look up to a bird singing in the branches +above her, and answer his music with a sweet, unconscious +laugh. Again, her mouth would dimple at the +sight of a tuft of blue violets, the flower she loved most +of any. The very air she breathed was a delight to her, +and the sunshine warmed her heart, as it penetrates the +cup of a flower.</p> + +<p>Up she came into her father's sick-room like a beam +of morning light.</p> + +<p>"I have seen him, father. I gave the letter into his +own hands. He is not looking so very ill."<span class="pagenum">[265]</span></p> + +<p>Jessup started to his elbow, eager and glad as the girl +herself.</p> + +<p>"Then he got it? He surely got it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! I am very, very sure!"</p> + +<p>"But how? How didst manage it, since he is not +well enough to leave his room?"</p> + +<p>"I went there!"</p> + +<p>"You?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father; there was no other way, if I wished to +put the paper into his own hand, as you bade me. So I +went to his room."</p> + +<p>"But, Sir Noel! Mrs. Mason! I marvel they let +any one into his room so easily."</p> + +<p>"Oh, they did not. I never dared to ask either of +them," said Ruth, with a sweet, triumphant laugh, that +sounded strangely in the lone sadness of the house. +"I evaded them, and all the rest."</p> + +<p>"But how?"</p> + +<p>Ruth hesitated. The secret of the balcony stairs was +too precious—she would keep it even from her father, as +the angels guarded Jacob's ladder.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I slipped in while Mr. Webb was away."</p> + +<p>"Well! well! And he was not looking so very ill. +He read my letter, and that brightened him up a bit, I'll +be bound?" questioned the gardener.</p> + +<p>"Not while I was there. I only had a minute. They +were on the stairs, and there was no chance for a word."</p> + +<p>"But he is getting better; you are sure of that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. I feel quite sure, father."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm thankful for that. Mayhap he'll be able +to come and see a poor fellow before long. Then we +shall know more about it."</p> + +<p>"About what, father?"<span class="pagenum">[266]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing much! Only I'd give all the money I +have been so long hoarding for the wedding-day only to +be sure—"</p> + +<p>"Then he is not to blame about anything?" broke in +Ruth, throwing her arms around the sick man, and kissing +him wildly, as if she did not quite know what she +was about. "Oh, father! father! How could you ever +think ill of him?"</p> + +<p>"Child, child! What is all this ado about? Who +said that I did think ill of the lad? Him as I have +always loved next to my own child! Come, come, now! +What have I said to make you so shaky and so fond?"</p> + +<p>Ruth gave him another kiss for answer, and, seating +herself on the bed, looked down upon him with a glow +in her great velvety eyes that brought a smile to his lips.</p> + +<p>"Anyway, the walk has brightened this face up wonderfully. +Why, here is color once again, and the dimples +are coming back like bees around a rose. Yes! yes! +Kiss me, lass! It does me good—it does me good!"</p> + +<p>Ruth began to smooth the iron-gray hair on that +rugged head, while the old man looked fondly upon her +glowing face.</p> + +<p>"Never mind. We shall be happy enough yet, little +one," he said, smoothing her shapely hand with his broad +palm. "Everything is sure to come out right, now that +we understand one another."</p> + +<p>Ruth drooped her head as the old man said this, and +the bloom faded a little from her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Yes; oh, yes, father!" she faltered, drawing her hand +away from his.</p> + +<p>A look of the old trouble came into the deep, gray +eyes, dwelling so fondly upon the girl; but before another +word could be spoken, Ruth had left the bed, and lifting<span class="pagenum">[267]</span> +a vase full of withered flowers from the mantelpiece, flung +them through the open window.</p> + +<p>"See what a careless girl I have been, never to think +how you love the roses, and they in full blossom, all this +time. I never forgot you so long before. Now did I, +father?"</p> + +<p>"I never thought of them," answered the old man, +shaking his head on the pillow. "My mind was too full +of other things."</p> + +<p>"But we must think of them now, or the house won't +seem like home when you are strong enough to sit up," +answered Ruth, with a reckless sort of cheerfulness. +"Everything must be bright and blooming then. I will +go now, and come back with the roses. They will seem +like old friends; won't they, father dear?"</p> + +<p>Ruth had reached the door with the vase in her hand +when a knock sounded up from the porch.</p> + +<p>The color left her face at the sound, and she nearly +dropped the vase, so violent was the start she gave.</p> + +<p>"I wonder who it is?" she said, casting a look of +alarm back at her father, but speaking under her breath. +"Has <i>he</i> come to frighten away all my happiness?"</p> + +<p>She went down-stairs reluctantly, and, with dread at +her heart, opened the entrance door. A girl stood in the +porch, carrying a basket on her arm, who entered the +passage without ceremony, and walked into the little +parlor.</p> + +<p>"The mistress sent me to inquire after your father, Miss +Jessup," she said, taking a survey of the room, which was +furnished better than most of its class. "Besides that, I +bring a jar of her best apricot jelly, with a bottle of port +from the inn cellar, and her best compliments; things +she don't send promiscuously by me, who only take them +once in a while when it suits me, as it does now."<span class="pagenum">[268]</span></p> + +<p>"You are very kind," said Ruth, with gentle reserve. +"Pray thank Mrs. Curtis for us."</p> + +<p>"Of course, I'll thank her, but not till I've rested a +bit in this pretty room. Why, it's like a grand picture, +with a carpet and chairs fit for a gentleman's house; +enough to make any girl lift her head above common +people, as Mr. Storms says, when he goes about praising +you."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Storms!" faltered Ruth, shrinking from the +name.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Storms. It's only here and there one who +thinks of calling him Dick; and they are uncommonly +careful not to let him hear them; for he has a strong +hand, slender and thin as he looks, has Storms. But I +needn't tell you anything about him."</p> + +<p>"No. It's not necessary," replied Ruth, scarcely +knowing what she said.</p> + +<p>"Of course not. He comes here often enough to +speak for himself, I dare say," persisted the girl, in +whose great dark eyes a sinister light was gleaming.</p> + +<p>"Not often."</p> + +<p>Judith Hart's eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p>"Scarcely at all," continued Ruth, "since my father +was hurt."</p> + +<p>"Is it his keeping away or the watching that makes +you look so white in the face?" said Judith, taking off +her bonnet, and revealing a mass of rich hair, which she +pushed back from her temples.</p> + +<p>Ruth looked at the girl with a strangely bright, +almost amused, expression.</p> + +<p>"I think—I fear that my father will want me," was +her sole reply.</p> + +<p>"That's more than some other people do." This insolent<span class="pagenum">[269]</span> +retort almost broke from the girl's lips, but +she checked it, only saying: "Here is your wine and the +jelly."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Curtis is very kind. Wait a little, and I will +cut her some flowers," answered Ruth.</p> + +<p>Judith's great eyes flashed as she gave up the parcel.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I can wait, since you are polite enough to +give me leave."</p> + +<p>"Pray rest yourself, while I go into the garden."</p> + +<p>Judith folded her arms, leaned back in her chair, and +said that she could wait; the mistress did not expect her +to come back yet a while.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a>CHAPTER XLII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">PROFFERED SERVICES.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>RUTH</b> went into the garden, which was lying in +shadow just then; so she required no covering for +her head, but rather enjoyed the bland south wind which +drifted softly through her loose hair, as she stooped to +pluck the roses.</p> + +<p>Meantime Judith Hart lifted herself from the lounging +attitude into which she had sunk, and in an instant +became sharply alert. Upon a little chintz couch that +occupied one side of the room she found the scarlet +sacque and a dainty little hat, which Ruth had flung +there before going up to her father, after her return from +"The Rest." Quick as thought, Judith slipped on the +sacque, and placed the hat with its side cluster of red roses<span class="pagenum">[270]</span> +on her head. After giving a sharp glance through the +window, to make sure that Ruth was still occupied in +the garden, she went up to a little mirror, and took a +hasty survey of herself.</p> + +<p>"The jacket is as like as two peas," she thought, +"and the hat is easy got. There'll be no trouble in +twisting up one side like this. As to the roses, he must +get them before the fair is over. If I could only wear +them in broad daylight, before all their faces, it would +be splendid; but he won't give in to that. Farther on, +I'll show him and them, too, what a dash Richard Storms +has in a wife. Oh, goodness, here she comes!"</p> + +<p>Quick as lightning the girl flung off the sacque; tossed +the hat down upon it, and ran to the seat she had left. +When Ruth came in, she was sitting there, casting vague +looks around her, as if she had been quietly resting all +the time.</p> + +<p>"Take these and this," said Ruth, giving her unwelcome +visitor a great bouquet of flowers, and a little +basket brimming over with strawberries; "and please +take our thanks to your mistress."</p> + +<p>"But, about the old man up-stairs. How is he getting +on? She will be sure to ask."</p> + +<p>"Better."</p> + +<p>"He is mending, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, slowly."</p> + +<p>Judith arose, but seemed reluctant to go.</p> + +<p>"You look pale yet."</p> + +<p>"No, no; I may have done, but not now," answered +Ruth, blushing as she thought why her strength and +color had come back so suddenly. "I am not as anxious +as I was."</p> + +<p>"But the nursing, and the work, too, must come +hard," persisted the girl.<span class="pagenum">[271]</span></p> + +<p>"Not now; I scarcely feel it now."</p> + +<p>"But if you should, remember, I'm both ready and +willing to give a helping hand."</p> + +<p>"Thank you."</p> + +<p>"And the mistress will be glad to spare me now and +then, when she knows that it is for this place I'm +wanted. So there would be no fear of asking."</p> + +<p>"Your mistress is very good."</p> + +<p>"Good as gold; especially where you are the person +that wants help. 'Judith,' says she, calling me into the +bar, 'take these things over to Jessup's and mind you +ask particular about the old man. He should 'a' been +about by this time; perhaps it's nursing he wants most, +so, if you can be of use, don't mind coming back in a +hurry, but give the lass a helping hand. Poor thing, +she's been brought up o'er dainty, and this sickness in the +house is sure to pull her down.' That's what the mistress +said, and I'm ready to abide by it, and help you at any +time."</p> + +<p>Ruth was touched by this persistent kindness, that +was so earnest and seemed so real, and her rejection of it +was full of gratitude.</p> + +<p>"All the worst trouble is over now," she said, and a +gleam of moisture came into her eyes. "Say this to your +mistress. As for yourself, a thousand thanks; but I +need no help now, though I shall never forget how +kindly you offered it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, as for the kindness, that's nothing," answered +the girl, with a slight toss of the head, on which she was +tying her bonnet, for she was far too bold for adroit +hypocrisy. "One always stands ready to help in a case +of sickness; but never mind, you will be sure to want +me yet; when you come to that, you'll find me ready; +and you are sure to come to it."<span class="pagenum">[272]</span></p> + +<p>"I hope not. Indeed, I am sure of it. Father is +doing so well."</p> + +<p>"Would you mind my going up to see for myself?" +said Judith, sharply, as if the wish were flung off her +mind with an effort. "The mistress will not be content +with less, I warrant."</p> + +<p>"If you wish. Only he must not be disturbed," answered +Ruth, after a moment's hesitation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll flit up the stairs like a bird, and hold my +breath when I get there," said Judith, eagerly.</p> + +<p>She did follow Ruth with a light tread, and moved +softly across the sick man's chamber when she reached +it. Jessup turned on his pillow as she approached, and +held out his hand, with a smile. The sight of a familiar +face was pleasant to him.</p> + +<p>"The mistress sent me to ask after you," said Judith, +quite subdued by the stillness and the pallor of the sick +man's face, "and I just stepped up to see for myself. +She's so anxious to make sure that you are mending."</p> + +<p>"Tell her I am better. A'most well," said Jessup, +grateful for this attention from his old neighbor.</p> + +<p>"That's something worth while," answered the girl, +speaking with an effort. "The mistress 'll be glad to +hear it, and so will be many a one who comes to the +house. As for me, if I can do anything to help the +young lady, she has only to say so, and I'll come, night +or day, for she doesn't look over strong."</p> + +<p>Unconsciously to herself, the girl had been so impressed +with the gentle bearing of Ruth Jessup, that she +spoke of her as superior to her class, even against her +own will. Jessup noticed this, and turned a fond look +on Ruth.</p> + +<p>"She's not o'er strong," he said, "but I think Ruthy<span class="pagenum">[273]</span> +wouldn't like any one but herself to tend on her +father."</p> + +<p>"No, no, indeed, I wouldn't," said Ruth, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"But I might help about the work below," urged +Judith, with singular persistency.</p> + +<p>Jessup looked at his daughter questioningly.</p> + +<p>"There is so little to do," she said, "but I am obliged +all the same."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes. We are both obliged. Don't forget to +say as much to the mistress," said Jessup.</p> + +<p>Judith seized his hand, and shook it with a vigor that +made him cry out with a spasm of pain. Then her face +flushed, and a strange, unholy light shot into her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Not so well as you think, or a grip of the hand like +that wouldn't have made you wince so. You may have +need of me, yet," she said, turning upon Ruth; "to my +thinking, it's more than likely."</p> + +<p>"I hope not," answered Ruth; "and I am sure that +all who love my father hope so too."</p> + +<p>"Of which I am one," was the quick reply. "You +may make sure of that. No one wants to see Jessup +about more than I do. Though he does come so seldom +to the public, it will be a holiday when he orders the +next can of beer at the 'Two Ravens.' So, hoping for +the best, good-day to both of you."<span class="pagenum">[274]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a>CHAPTER XLIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE LOST LETTER.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>JUDITH HART</b> took her way straight for the wilderness. +She passed along the margin of the black +lake, made at once for the summer-house, and looked in, +then turned away with an exclamation of disappointment.</p> + +<p>"I thought he would 'a' been here, so sharp as he was +for news," she muttered, tearing off a handful of rushes, +and biting them with her teeth, until they rasped her +lips. "There's no depending on him; but wait till we're +wed. Then he'll have to walk a different road. Ha!"</p> + +<p>The report of a gun on a rise of ground beyond the +lake brought this exclamation from her, and she hastened +on, muttering to herself, +"It's his gun. I know the sound of it, and I thought +he had forgotten."</p> + +<p>Directly she came in sight of a figure walking through +the thick undergrowth.</p> + +<p>"Richard! Richard Storms!"</p> + +<p>The man came toward her, moving cautiously, and +holding up one hand.</p> + +<p>"Hush! Can't you speak without screaming?" he +said, hissing the words through his teeth. "It's broad +daylight, remember, and by that, there's no passing you +off for the other one, if a gamekeeper should cross us."</p> + +<p>"Why not? I've just seen Ruth Jessup and myself +in the glass at the same time, and we're like as two peas. +Only for her finikin airs, I defy any one to say which +was which."<span class="pagenum">[275]</span></p> + +<p>"But she would never have called out so lustily."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that was because I was o'erjoyed to see you, +after finding the little lake-house empty!" answered the +girl, laying her hand on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>Storms shook the hand off.</p> + +<p>"Don't do that, if you want to pass for a lady," he +said, rudely.</p> + +<p>"A lady, now! As if I was not as good as Ruth +Jessup, any day, and more of a lady, too," retorted the +girl, with passionate tears in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Ruth Jessup isn't the girl to lay her hands on a +man's shoulder without his asking," said Storms, setting +down his gun, and dusting his coat, as if her touch had +soiled it. "Who knows that some one may not be looking +on?"</p> + +<p>"And if it chanced, what harm, so long as we are to +be man and wife so soon?" pleaded the girl, now fairly +crying.</p> + +<p>"What harm! Do you think I want every gamekeeper +on the place to be jibing about the lass I mean +to make a lady of, if she's only careful of herself?"</p> + +<p>"If!" repeated the girl, dashing away her tears. +"What 'ifs' are there between you and me? Before we +go another step, I want to hear about that."</p> + +<p>Storms laughed, and said, carelessly,</p> + +<p>"Never mind. What news do you bring me?"</p> + +<p>"None—not a word, while there are 'ifs' in the way, +let me tell you that; though I have found something +that you would give a hundred guineas down to get hold +of, and the young master a thousand to keep back."</p> + +<p>"You have! What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing that has an 'if' in it."</p> + +<p>"There, there! Don't be silly. I mean no 'ifs.'<span class="pagenum">[276]</span> +Have I not said, as plain as a man can speak, what shall +be between us?"</p> + +<p>"Well, when we are settled in the farm up yonder, I +will give you something that Sir Noel would sell his +whole estate to get from me."</p> + +<p>"As if I believed that."</p> + +<p>"But you may believe it. The more time I have for +thinking, the more worth it seems."</p> + +<p>"But what is it?"</p> + +<p>"Only a penny's worth of paper."</p> + +<p>"Bah!"</p> + +<p>"With writing on it that proves who shot old Jessup!"</p> + +<p>Storms turned fiercely upon her.</p> + +<p>"Proves what?"</p> + +<p>"That Walton Hurst shot old Jessup."</p> + +<p>"A paper! Who wrote it?"</p> + +<p>"Jessup himself."</p> + +<p>"You have such a letter signed by Jessup?"</p> + +<p>"I just have that!"</p> + +<p>"Give it to me, lass! Give it to me!"</p> + +<p>"Not yet. I'm thinking it just as well to keep the +bit of paper in my own hands," was the sharp answer. +"'Ifs' might come up again, you know!'"</p> + +<p>A look of shrewd cunning stole over the features +Judith's suspicious eyes were searching. Storms turned +from her with a contemptuous gesture.</p> + +<p>"There, there! I'm not to be taken in with such +chaff. Try something better. If you had such a paper +it wouldn't be kept back from a true sweetheart one +minute. You've got a man of sense to deal with."</p> + +<p>"I haven't got it, have I? Look here!" cried Judith, +drawing back, and unfolding a paper she took from her +bosom. "The letters are large enough. You can read +from here. Is that Jessup's name or not?"<span class="pagenum">[277]</span></p> + +<p>Storms did read enough to see how important the paper +might become. He glanced from it to the firmly set and +triumphant features of the girl.</p> + +<p>"You brought it for me. You will give it to me!"</p> + +<p>"No!" answered Judith, folding the paper. "Not +till we come from the church."</p> + +<p>With the leap of a tiger Storms sprang upon the girl, +and snatched at the paper; but she, wary and agile as +himself, leaped aside, and fled like a deer down the declivity, +sending a ringing laugh, full of mockery, back to +the baffled man.</p> + +<p>In an instant, he was flying after her, his teeth set +hard, his eyes gleaming, and every leap bringing him +nearer to her, and her nearer to the lake.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a>CHAPTER XLIV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE HOUSEKEEPER'S VISIT.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>RUTH JESSUP</b> was almost happy, now. From a +place of care and dread her father's sick-room had +become a pleasant little haven of rest to her. Perfect +confidence had returned between the father and child, +broken only by a consciousness of one secret. Sooner or +later, he should know the secret of her marriage, and +rejoice over the son it had given him. Of course, the +girl thought all things must be well, now that her father +had communicated with the young master; otherwise, +that look of calm tranquillity would never have settled +so gently on the face that seemed to have given up its +pain; from the moment she had gone forth with that<span class="pagenum">[278]</span> +letter. All was right between those two, and, knowing +this, the girl felt her secret only as a sweet love-burden, +which, sooner or later, should make that dear father +proud and happy, as she hoped to be herself.</p> + +<p>Thus, all the day long, the girl flitted about the cottage, +doing her humble household work with dainty +grace. One particular morning she was sitting on her +father's bed, dropping strawberries into his mouth, giving +a little start, when he made a playful snap at her stained +fingers, which was pleasant, though the effort brought a +twinge of pain to him, and a pretty affected cry, often +broke into a laugh, from her.</p> + +<p>"There, now, you shall not have another," she said, +taking the hull of a luscious berry between her thumb and +finger, and holding it out of reach, tempting his thirsty +mouth with its red ripeness. "Bite the hand that feeds +you—oh, for shame!"</p> + +<p>"Nothing but a false hound does that," said the sick +man, far more seriously than the occasion demanded.</p> + +<p>"A hound! oh, father, that is too bad. I meant nothing +like that. See, now, here is the plumpest and ripest +of all. Wait till I dip it in the sugar. It seems like +rolling it in snow, don't it?"</p> + +<p>The invalid opened his mouth and smiled, as the rich +fruit melted on his feverish tongue.</p> + +<p>"What is it, father?" questioned the girl, as a shadow +chased away the smile. "What is the matter, now?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing; really nothing, child; only I thought there +was a step under the window."</p> + +<p>Ruth listened, and the color left her face. She bent +down to her father, and stole an arm around his neck. +Then he felt that the arm was trembling like a reed in +the wind.<span class="pagenum">[279]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, father, you will not let him come here again? +It will kill me, if you do."</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush, lass! Remember, he has my promise."</p> + +<p>"But not mine. Oh, father, do not be so cruel."</p> + +<p>A step sounded in the lower passage. Ruth grew pale +as she listened. The footsteps paused near the stairs, and +a voice called out, +"Ruthy! I say, Ruthy!"</p> + +<p>Ruth sprang from the bed with a little cry of joy, and +flinging open the door, looked over the banister.</p> + +<p>"Is it you? Is it only you, godmother? Come up, +come up!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mason accepted the invitation, planting her feet +so firmly on the narrow stairs that they shook under her.</p> + +<p>"Of course, I know he is better by the look of your +face," said the dame, pausing to draw a deep breath +before she entered the sick man's room. "You need not +trouble yourself to ask; all is going on well at 'The +Rest.' The young master walks across the room now, +and lies on the couch near the window, looking out as +if he pined for the free air again, as who wouldn't, after +such a bout of illness?"</p> + +<p>Ruth did not speak, but her face flushed, and her eyes +sparkled through the droop of their long lashes. She +knew that the window her godmother spoke of looked +across the flower-garden to their own cottage, and her +fond heart beat all the faster for the knowledge.</p> + +<p>"So, at last, an old friend can win a sight of you," +said dame Mason, crossing over to the bed where Jessup +lay, and patting the great hand which rested on the +coverlet with her soft palm; "and right glad I am to find +you are looking so well."</p> + +<p>Jessup looked at Ruth, and smiled.<span class="pagenum">[280]</span></p> + +<p>"She takes such care of me, how can I help it?" he +said.</p> + +<p>"Aye, truly. It will be hard when you have to part +with her, I must say that; but such is human nature. +We rear them up, get to loving them like our own +hearts, and away they go, building nests for themselves. +Her mother did it for you, remember; and so it will be +while human nature is human nature."</p> + +<p>Jessup heaved a deep sigh, and looked at his daughter +with wistful earnestness. She answered him with a +glance of tender appeal, from which he turned to the +dame with a little gleam of triumph.</p> + +<p>"There is the rub, Mrs. Mason. My lass will not +listen to leaving her old father, but fights against it like +a bird that loves its cage, all the more fiercely now that +I am down."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mason wheeled round, and looked at Ruth from +under her heavy eyebrows, as if she doubted what the +father had been saying.</p> + +<p>"Aye, little one, we know better than that," she said. +"But I don't quite like this. Cheating a sick man may +be for his good; but I don't like it, I don't like it."</p> + +<p>"Cheating," faltered Ruth, conscience-stricken. "Oh, +godmother."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, the old saying, that all things is fair in +love or war, may be true; but I don't believe it. According +to my idea, truth is truth, and nothing can be +safer or better, in the long run. Mark this, goddaughter, +the first minute you get out of the line of truth, casts +you, headforemost, into all sorts of trouble. One must +wind and turn, like a fox, to get out of a deceit, if one +ever does get out, which I'm not sure of."</p> + +<p>Ruth stood before the good housekeeper, as she promulgated<span class="pagenum">[281]</span> +this homely opinion, like a detected culprit. +Her color came and went, her eyelids drooped, and a +weight seemed to settle, like lead, upon her shoulders. +This evident distress touched the housekeeper with compassion.</p> + +<p>"There, there," she said, "I did not mean to be hard. +Young folks will be young folks—ha, Jessup? You +and I can remember when more sweethearting was done +on the sly than we should like to own up to; and young +Storms is likely to be heir to the best farm on Sir Noel's +estate, though, I must say, he was never much to my +liking. These sharp-faced young men never were. +Mason was of full weight and tallness, or he never would +have fastened a name on me."</p> + +<p>Ruth was no longer blushing one instant and paling +the next, for a vivid flush of crimson swept her whole +face.</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about, godmother?" she questioned, +with a little, scornful laugh, which irritated the +good dame.</p> + +<p>"What am I talking of? Nay, nay, I have made you +blush more than is kind already. Never heed my nonsense. +It is natural that I should think no one good +enough, and feel a little uppish that things have gone so +far without one word to the old woman that loved you as +if you were her own."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? What can you mean, godmother?" +cried Ruth, with unusual courage.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing. The news was over the whole neighborhood +before I heard of it; but that's nothing."</p> + +<p>"What news? Do tell me?"</p> + +<p>"Why, that young Storms and my goddaughter would +be married as soon as friend Jessup, here, is well enough +to be at the wedding."<span class="pagenum">[282]</span></p> + +<p>"Father, father, do you hear that? Who has dared +to slander me so cruelly?" cried the girl, bursting into a +passion of tears.</p> + +<p>Jessup was greatly troubled by his daughter's grief.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, it has not come to that as yet," he said, +"and, mayhap, never will."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, how good you are!"</p> + +<p>In her passionate gratitude the girl might have shaken +the wounded man too sorely, for her arms were around +him, and her face was pressed close to his; but even then +she was thoughtful, and, lifting her face, said, with a sort +of triumph:</p> + +<p>"You see, godmother, how impossible it is that this +story can be anything but scandal?"</p> + +<p>"Scandal? But Sir Noel believes it," answered the +puzzled dame.</p> + +<p>"No! no!"</p> + +<p>"But he does, and Lady Rose was consulting with me +this very day about the present she would give. I never +saw her so interested in anything."</p> + +<p>"She is very good," said Ruth, with bitter dryness.</p> + +<p>"Indeed she is. A sweeter or more kindly young +lady never lived. 'The Rest' would be gloomy enough +without her."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you all think so?" questioned Ruth, with +feverish anxiety.</p> + +<p>"It would be strange if we did not. I'm sure Sir +Noel loves her as if she was his own child, which, please +God, she will be some of these days."</p> + +<p>"Godmother! godmother! don't make me hate you!"</p> + +<p>"Hoity-toity! What is the meaning of this? I +didn't think there was so much temper in the child. +Why, she is all afire! Oh, friend Jessup! friend Jessup!<span class="pagenum">[283]</span> +this comes of rearing her all by yourself! If you +had sent her to me at 'The Rest,' a little wholesome discipline +would have made such rough words to her mother's +friend impossible!"</p> + +<p>Ruth dashed the tears from her eyes, and held out +both her hands.</p> + +<p>"Godmother, forgive me! I am so sorry!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mason turned half away from that imploring +face.</p> + +<p>"I was wrong—so wrong."</p> + +<p>"To talk about hating me. The child she laid in my +bosom almost in her dying hour."</p> + +<p>"The wicked, cruel child! Oh, if you only knew +how sorry she is! Godmother, oh, godmother, forgive +me for her sake!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mason wheeled round, and gathered the penitent +young creature to her bosom; then turning her head, she +saw that Jessup was greatly excited and had struggled up +from his pillow.</p> + +<p>"There, there! Lie down again. This is no affair +of yours," she said, hastily waving her hand, which +ended in a shake for the pretty offender. "Can't I have +a word with my own goddaughter without bringing you +up from your bed, as if something terrible was going on? +Looking like a pale-faced ghost, too! No wonder the +poor child gets nervous. I dare say you just worry her +to death."</p> + +<p>"No, no! godmother! He is patient as a lamb," cried +Ruth. "Don't blame him for my fault."</p> + +<p>"Fault! What fault is there? Just as if a poor child +can't speak once in a while, without being blamed for it. +I never knew anything so unreasonable as men are—magnifying +mole-hills into mountains. There now, go and<span class="pagenum">[284]</span> +sit by the window while I bring your exasperating father +to something like reason. No one shall make you cry +again, if I know it."</p> + +<p>Ruth went to the window, rather bewildered by the +suddenness with which the good housekeeper had shifted +the point of her resentment to the invalid on the bed. +But Mrs. Mason seemed to have entirely forgotten that +she had been sharply dealt with. Seating herself on the +bed, which creaked complainingly under her weight, and +settling her black dress with a great rustle of silk, she +dropped into the most cordial relations with the invalid at +once.</p> + +<p>"Better and getting up bravely. I can see that. Sir +Noel will be more than glad to hear it. As for the young +master, I know the thought of you is never out of his +mind. 'When shall I be well enough to walk out?' he +says, each day, to the surgeon. 'There was another hurt +at the same time with me, and I want to know how he is +getting on.'"</p> + +<p>"Did he say that, did he?" questioned Jessup, with +tears in his eyes; for sickness had made him weak as a +child, and at such times tear-drops come to the strongest +eyes tenderly as dew falls. "Did he mention me in that +way?"</p> + +<p>"He did, indeed. Often and often."</p> + +<p>"God bless the lad. How could I ever think—"</p> + +<p>Jessup broke off, and looked keenly at the housekeeper, +as if fearful of having said too much. But she +had heard the blessing, without regard to the half-uttered +conclusion, and echoed it heartily.</p> + +<p>"So say I. God bless the young gentleman! For a +braver or a brighter never reigned at 'The Rest,' since +its first wall was laid. Well, well! what is it now?"<span class="pagenum">[285]</span> +she added, addressing Ruth, who had left the window, +and was stealing an arm around her neck.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, godmother, only I love to hear you talk."</p> + +<p>"Well, we were speaking, I think, of the young master. +It was he that persuaded me to come here, and observe +for myself how you were getting on."</p> + +<p>"Did he indeed?" murmured Ruth, laying her burning +cheek lovingly against the old lady's.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed. The weather is over warm for much +walking; but how could I say no when he would trust +only me? 'Women,' he said, 'took so much more notice, +being used to sick-rooms,' and he could not rest without +news of your father—something more than 'he is better, +or he is worse,' which could only be got from a person +constantly in the sick-room."</p> + +<p>"How anxious! I—I—How kind he is!" said +Ruth.</p> + +<p>"That he is. Had Jessup been akin to him, instead +of a faithful old servant, he couldn't have shown more +feeling."</p> + +<p>Ruth sighed, and her sweet face brightened. The +housekeeper went on.</p> + +<p>"We were by ourselves when he said this, and spoke of +the old times when I could refuse him nothing, in a way +that went to my heart, for it was the truth. So I just +kissed his hand—once it would have been his face—and +promised to come and have a chat with you, and see for +myself how it was with Jessup."</p> + +<p>"You will say how much better he is."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! He seems to be getting on famously. +No reason for anxiety, as I shall tell him. Now, Ruth, +as your father seems quiet, let us go down into the garden. +I was to bring some fruit from the strawberry-beds, +which he craves, thinking it better than ours."<span class="pagenum">[286]</span></p> + +<p>"Go with her, and pick the finest," said Jessup. "I +feel like sleeping."</p> + +<p>"Yes, father, if you can spare me."</p> + +<p>The housekeeper moved toward the door, having shaken +hands with Jessup, cautioned him against taking cold, +and recommending a free use of port wine and other +strengthening drinks, which, she assured him, would set +him up sooner than all the medicines in the world.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a>CHAPTER XLV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">EXCELLENT ADVICE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>WHEN</b> once in the garden, Mrs. Mason grew very +serious, and stood some time in silence watching +Ruth, who, bending low, was sweeping the green +leaves from a host of plump berries, clustering red ripe +in the sunshine. At last she spoke, with an effort, and +her voice was abrupt if not severe.</p> + +<p>"Ruth," she said, "I have a thing to say which +troubles me."</p> + +<p>Ruth looked up wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Why is it that you try to keep secrets from your +sick father?"</p> + +<p>"Secrets!" faltered the girl.</p> + +<p>"If you mean to wed this young man, why not say so +at any rate to your own father? It is the best way out +of this difficulty."</p> + +<p>"Difficulty!"</p> + +<p>"There, there! I can see no use in all this blushing,<span class="pagenum">[287]</span> +as red as the strawberries one minute, and denying it +the next. Ruth, Ruth! deception and craft should not +belong to your mother's child. I don't pretend to like +this young man over much, but, under the circumstances, +I have nothing to say. If your father is against +it, a little persuasion from Sir Noel will set all that +right."</p> + +<p>"What—what do you mean, grandmother?" questioned +Ruth, hoarse with dread.</p> + +<p>"I mean to stop people's mouths by an honest marriage +with a man, who, after all, is a good match enough. +If you have ever been uplifted to thoughts of a better, +it has come from too much notice from gentle people at +'The Rest,' and from too much reading of poetry books. +But for that, there would never have been these meetings +in the park, and moonlight flittings about the lake, to +scandalize people. Think better of it, Ruth, or worse +mischief than the scandal that is in everybody's mouth +may come out of it. Nothing but an honest marriage +can put an end to it."</p> + +<p>"Scandal!" whispered the girl, rising slowly, and +turning her white face on the housekeeper. "What +scandal?"</p> + +<p>"Such as any girl may expect, Ruthy, who meets +young men in the park, and, worst of all, by the lake."</p> + +<p>"The lake! The park!" repeated the poor girl, +aghast with apprehension; for every walk or chance +meeting she had shared with young Hurst rushed back +upon her, with accusing vividness. "Who has said—who +has dared?"</p> + +<p>Here the frightened young creature burst into a passion +of tears. The walks, the chance meetings, each a +romance and an adventure, to dream of and hoard up in<span class="pagenum">[288]</span> +her thoughts, like a poem got by heart. Who could +have torn them from their privacy, and bruited them +abroad to her discredit? In what way would she deny +or explain them? More and more pale her face grew, +and her slender figure drooped with humiliation.</p> + +<p>"There, there, little one, do not look so miserable. I +did not mean to hurt your feelings. Of course, I remember +you have no mother to say what is right or wrong. +Only this, never meet the young man again. It breeds +scandal."</p> + +<p>Ruth looked up in amazement.</p> + +<p>"I know, I know your father is ill, but that should +keep you in-doors."</p> + +<p>"Godmother, I do not understand. How is it possible?"</p> + +<p>"It is not possible for you to meet him in out-of-the-way +places without casting your good name in the teeth +of every gossip in the village. Nay, I have my doubts +if the young man has not helped it on, else, how did that +brazen-faced maid at the inn know about it, and taunt +him with it before a half-score of drinkers?"</p> + +<p>The eyes of Ruth Jessup grew large with wonder.</p> + +<p>"Among drinkers! He at the public inn! Godmother, +of whom are you speaking?"</p> + +<p>"Who should I speak of, but the young man himself, +Richard Storms?"</p> + +<p>As a cloud sometimes sweeps suddenly from the blue +sky, the shame and the fear left that young girl's face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, godmother, were you only speaking of him?"</p> + +<p>"Who else should I be speaking of, Ruth? As if his +name and yours were not in every one's mouth, from the +highest to the lowest."</p> + +<p>A faint, hysterical laugh broke through the sobs that +had almost choked the girl, and alarmed the good woman.<span class="pagenum">[289]</span></p> + +<p>"There, there," she said, "only be careful for the time +to come; an honest marriage will set everything right. +I only wish the young man were of a better sort, and +went less to the public; but he will mend, I dare say. +That is right, you have had a good cry, and feel better."</p> + +<p>Ruth had wiped the tears from her face, and, after +drawing a deep breath, was stooping down to the strawberry-bed +again, and dashing the thick leaves aside with +her hands, was gathering the fruit in eager haste. So +great was her sense of relief, that she could feel neither +resentment nor annoyance regarding the scandal that had +so troubled the good housekeeper. Though she still +trembled with the shock which had passed, this lesser +annoyance was nothing to her. In and out, through the +clustering leaves, her little hand flew, until the great +china-bowl, into which the gathered fruit was dropped, +brimmed over with its mellow redness. Meantime the +housekeeper pattered on, bestowing a world of advice +and matronly cautions of which Ruth never heard a +syllable until the name of her lover-husband was mentioned. +Then her hand moved cautiously, that it might +not rustle the leaves as she listened.</p> + +<p>"He took Mr. Webb up, scornfully, as you did me, +when he mentioned the gossip, and would not hear of it, +calling young Storms a hind and a braggart, of whom +the neighborhood should be rid, if he were master. So +Webb said nothing more, though his news had come +from some of the gamekeepers who had seen you once +and again in company with the young man."</p> + +<p>The blood began to burn hotly in Ruth's cheeks.</p> + +<p>"I wonder only that you should have believed such +things of me, godmother, and almost scorn myself for +caring to contradict them," she said, placing the bowl of<span class="pagenum">[290]</span> +strawberries in a shady place, while she began to cut +flowers for a bouquet.</p> + +<p>By this time, Mrs. Mason had unburdened her mind +of so many wise sayings, and such hoards of good advice, +that her goddaughter's indiscretions seemed to be quite +carried away. She was weary of standing, too, and seating +herself in a rustic garden-chair, over which an old +cherry-tree loomed, waited complacently, while Ruth +flitted to and fro among the rose-bushes, singing softly +as a dove coos, while she plundered the flower-beds, and +grouped buds and leaves into a sweet love-language, +which her own heart supplied, and which he had studied +with her, when their passion was like a poem, and flowers +were its natural expression.</p> + +<p>"He will read these," she thought, clustering some +forget-me-nots around a white rose-bud, which became +the heart of her sweet epistle. "Let him only know +that they come from me, and every bud will tell him +how my very soul craves to see him. Ah, me, it seems +so long—so long, since that day."</p> + +<p>As she twined each flower in its place, a light kiss, of +which she was half-ashamed, was breathed into it as +foolishly fond women will let their hearts go out, and +still be wise, and good. Indeed, the fact of doing it, +proves such women far superior to the common herds, +who have no rare fancies, and scorn them, because of +profound ignorance, that such gentle follies can spring +out of the deepest feeling.</p> + +<p>When all was ready, and that bouquet, redolent of +kisses, innocent as the perfume with which they were +blended, was laid, a glowing web of colors, on the strawberries, +Mrs. Mason prepared to depart. With the china +bowl held between her rotund waist and the curve of her<span class="pagenum">[291]</span> +arm, she entered into the shaded path, promising Ruth +to deliver both fruit and flowers to the young master +with her own hands, and tell him how well things were +going on at the cottage.</p> + +<p>"You will do everything that is kind, godmother, +that I know well enough; only never mention that +dreadful man's name to me, let people think what they +will. I can bear anything but that."</p> + +<p>"First promise me never to see him again till he +comes like an honest man and asks you of your father."</p> + +<p>"That I promise; nor then, if I can help it. Oh, +godmother, how can you think it of me?"</p> + +<p>The good lady shook her head, kissed the sweet mouth +uplifted to hers, and went away muttering, +"I suppose all girls are alike, and think it no harm +to keep back their love-secrets. I haven't forgot how it +was with me and Mason. How many times I met him +on the sly, and hot tongues wouldn't have forced me to +own it. So, thinking of that, I needn't be overhard on +our Ruthy, who has no mother to set her right, poor +thing."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a>CHAPTER XLVI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE SERPENT IN HER PATH.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>WHEN</b> Ruth left her father, he was overtaxed by +the excitement of seeing his old friend, the +housekeeper, and more than usually disturbed by the +drift of her conversation. Kind of heart, and generous +in his nature, he could not witness the repugnance that +his daughter exhibited to the marriage he had arranged<span class="pagenum">[292]</span> +for her without tender relenting. Still, no nobleman of +the realm was ever more tenacious of his honor, or shrunk +more sensitively from a broken promise. Languid and +weary, he was thinking over these matters, when some +one, stirring in the hall below, disturbed him.</p> + +<p>"Ruth, Ruth, is it you?" he called, in a voice tremulous +with weakness.</p> + +<p>Some one opened and shut the parlor door, then steps +sounded from the passage and along the stairs. A man's +step, light and quick, as if the person coming feared +interruption.</p> + +<p>"Ruth, Ruth," repeated the gardener.</p> + +<p>"It is only I, Jessup," answered Richard Storms, +stealing into the room. "There was no one below. I +heard voices up here, and took the liberty of an old +friend."</p> + +<p>"You are welcome," answered the sick man, reaching +out his hand, which had lost its ruddy brown since his +confinement. "I think Ruth has gone out with Mrs. +Mason."</p> + +<p>"So much the better that she can leave you, I suppose," +answered Storms, still holding the sick man's hand, +with a finger on the pulse, while a slow cloud stole over +his face. "The fever all gone? Why, man, we shall +have you about in another week."</p> + +<p>Jessup shook his head, and laid the hand he released +from the young man's grasp on his breast.</p> + +<p>"I fear not. There is a weakness here," he said.</p> + +<p>"And pain?" questioned Storms, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, great pain, at times; but you must not say as +much to Ruth: it would fret her."</p> + +<p>A glitter, like that of disturbed water, flashed into the +young man's eyes.<span class="pagenum">[293]</span></p> + +<p>"Then, as to the fever," continued the sick man, "it +comes, on and off, with a chill, now and then; not much +to complain of, so I say nothing about it, because of the +lass."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is nothing, I dare say; but the people in +the village hear that you are quite strong again."</p> + +<p>Jessup smiled, a little sadly.</p> + +<p>"So, being more than anxious, I dropped in to have a +little chat with you. It's hard waiting so long, when a +man is o'er fond of a lass, as I am of your daughter. +One never gets a look of her in the regular way."</p> + +<p>"Ruth has been with me so much," said Jessup, with +a feeble effort at apology. "It has been hard on her, +poor child."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you are so much better now, and father is +getting vexed. He thinks Sir Noel is putting off the +new lease because nothing is settled about the marriage. +Things are going crosswise with us, I can tell you. It +will never do for us to put matters off in this way."</p> + +<p>Jessup was greatly disturbed. He moved restlessly, +clasping and unclasping his hand on the coverlet with +nervous irritation. At last he spoke more resolutely +than he had yet done.</p> + +<p>"Storms, your father and I have been neighbors and +friends ever since we were boys together, and we had set +our minds on being closer still; but Ruth's heart goes +against it, and I cannot force her."</p> + +<p>Storms drew close to the bed and bent his frowning +face over the sick man.</p> + +<p>"I have been expecting this. Like father like child. +But a man's pledged word isn't to be broken through +with by a girl's whim; or, if so, I am not the one to put +up with it."<span class="pagenum">[294]</span></p> + +<p>"You were always a hard one," answered Jessup, and +a little strength flamed up into his gray eyes. "From +a child you were that, and I have, more than once, had +misgivings; but I did not think you would be bent on +marrying with a lass against her will."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I would, and like it all the better, when her +will was broken."</p> + +<p>Jessup shrunk down in his bed. There was something +savage in that stern young face that terrified him. +Storms saw the feeble movement, and went on:</p> + +<p>"Never fear, man, I will find a way to bend her will, +and make her love me afterward."</p> + +<p>"I would rather have her placed by my side in the +same coffin," answered the old man.</p> + +<p>"You take back your word?" repeated Storms, +savagely.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I take back my word."</p> + +<p>Storms turned on his heel, and without a syllable of +farewell left the house. He paused a moment under the +porch, and a glint of Ruth's garments caught his eye, as +she was coming down the shaded wood-path, after parting +with Mrs. Mason.</p> + +<p>Ruth saw him coming, and stopped, looking around +for some chance of escape, like a bird, threatened in its +cage.</p> + +<p>There was no way of escape, however. On one hand +lay a deep ravine, with a brooklet at the bottom, and +clothed with ferns up the sides; on the other, wild +thickets, such as made that portion of a park called the +wilderness picturesque.</p> + +<p>"So, sweetheart, you were waiting for me. I thought +it would come to that," said Storms.</p> + +<p>Ruth moved on one side without answering. Storms<span class="pagenum">[295]</span> +could see that a shudder passed through her as he came +near, and the evil light that had almost died out of his +eyes when they fell upon her came back with fresh +venom.</p> + +<p>"So you think to escape, ha! You shy on one side, +as if a wild beast blocked the path. Be careful that you +don't make one of me."</p> + +<p>"Let me pass. I wish nothing but that," faltered the +girl, moving as far from her tormentor as the path +would permit.</p> + +<p>"Not till we have come to an understanding. Look +you, Ruth Jessup, if you think to pull me on and off like +an old glove, I am not the man for your money."</p> + +<p>"I—I have no such thought. I have no wish to see +you at all."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" sneered the young man.</p> + +<p>"After what has passed it is better that we should be +strangers!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, sweetheart. I think it is better that we should +be man and wife."</p> + +<p>A disgustful shudder shook the girl where she stood.</p> + +<p>Storms saw it, and a cold smile crept over his face.</p> + +<p>"That is what I have been telling your father."</p> + +<p>"My father! Surely, surely you have not been torturing +him!"</p> + +<p>"Torturing him! No. But we have come to an +understanding at last."</p> + +<p>Ruth grew pallid to the lips.</p> + +<p>"An understanding! How?"</p> + +<p>The terror that shook her voice was triumph to him. +At least he had the power to torment her, and would use +it to the utmost.</p> + +<p>"You ask? I thought you might know what manner +of man old Jessup is, without asking."<span class="pagenum">[296]</span></p> + +<p>"I know that he is just but never cruel."</p> + +<p>"Cruel! Oh, far from it. Go ask him, if you +doubt."</p> + +<p>"Let me pass, and I will," answered the girl, desperately. +"At any rate, he would not sanction your +rudeness in keeping me here."</p> + +<p>"Rudeness! Of course you have never been here +before. Oh, no! I haven't seen you, over and over +again, watching the path. Only it wasn't rudeness when +he came. There was no trembling then—nothing but +blushes."</p> + +<p>"Let me pass, I say," cried the girl, tortured into +courage, "if you would not force me to tell the whole +world what I know of you. Let me pass, and never +dare to look upon me again."</p> + +<p>Storms started, and a grayish pallor spread over his +face. What did she know? What did she mean?</p> + +<p>Ruth shrank from the cowardly glitter of his eyes, +and wondered at the sudden pallor. What had she +said to daunt him so? Directly, the coward recovered +himself.</p> + +<p>"And what would you tell?" he said, with forced +audacity. "Is it a terrible sin for a man to stop the lass +he is to wed, for a word wherever he chances to find her? +What worse can you say of me than that?"</p> + +<p>Ruth saw the dastardly anxiety in his face; but did +not comprehend it. He seemed almost afraid of her.</p> + +<p>"Is it nothing that you force your company upon me, +when it has become hateful to me? Is it nothing that +you harass a sick man with complaints, and thrust him +back with unwelcome visits, when he might otherwise +get well? Is it manly to come here at all, when I have +told you, again and again, that your presence is the most +repulsive torment on earth to me?"<span class="pagenum">[297]</span></p> + +<p>The man absolutely laughed again. He was once +more at ease. Her words had meant nothing more than +the old complaint. Still he stood in the girl's path.</p> + +<p>"Why will you torment me so?" she pleaded, with +sudden tears. "What have I ever done that you should +haunt me in my trouble?"</p> + +<p>"I only give you trouble for hate, harsh acts for bitter +words, insult for insult. You can stop them all with a +word."</p> + +<p>"A word I will never speak!" answered the girl, +firmly. "Hear me once for all, Richard Storms. There +was a time when you were dear to me as a playfellow, +and might have been my life-long friend—"</p> + +<p>"Friend!" repeated Storms, with a disdainful fling of +the hand. "You might say that much of a hound."</p> + +<p>"But now," continued Ruth, desperately, "there is +not a thing which creeps the earth that I loath as I do +the sight of you."</p> + +<p>This was a rash speech, and the most bitter that had +ever burned on those young lips. She felt that on the +moment, for the man's face turned gray, as if invisible +ashes had swept over it. For a while he stood motionless, +then his lips parted, and he said, in a deep, hoarse voice, +that made her shrink in every nerve, +"There is one other sight that shall be yet more loathsome +to you!"</p> + +<p>Ruth attempted to speak, but her lips clove together. +He saw a paleness like his own creeping over her face, +and added, with ferocious cruelty, +"Shall I tell you what it is? That of your lover—of +the man who has stolen you from me—in a criminal's +box, with half the county looking on."</p> + +<p>If the fiend had intended to say more, he was prevented,<span class="pagenum">[298]</span> +for the poor girl sank to the earth, turning a +wild look on his face, like a deer that he had shot.</p> + +<p>There might have been some relenting in the man's +heart, hard as it was, for he partly stooped, as if to lift +his victim from the earth; but she shrunk from his touch, +and fell into utter insensibility.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVII" id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a>CHAPTER XLVII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">NIGHT ON THE BALCONY.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>I MUST</b> see him. I will see him. No one will +tell me the truth but himself. I must know it +or die!"</p> + +<p>Ruth stood alone under the shadow of the trees, white +as a ghost, and rendered desperate by words that had +smitten her into insensibility. How long she had lain in +that forest path the girl scarcely knew. When she came +to herself, it was with a shudder of dread, lest that evil +face should be looking down upon her; but all was +silent. The birds were singing close by her, and there +was a soft rustle of leaves, nothing more. She lifted her +head, and with her hands searched for marks of the blow +that seemed to have levelled her to the earth. A blow! +She remembered now it was a word that she had sunk +under—a coarse, cruel word, that brought a horrid +picture with it, from which every nerve in her body +recoiled.</p> + +<p>She was very feeble, now, and could scarcely walk. It +seemed as if she never would get to the house; the distance +appeared interminable. She could not keep in the narrow<span class="pagenum">[299]</span> +paths that coiled along the flower-beds, but wavered +in her steps from weakness, as her enemy had done from +wrath, until her feet were tangled in the creeping flowers +and strawberry-vines.</p> + +<p>Her father was lying with his eyes closed when she +went in, and a smile was upon his mouth. Even in his +feeble state, he had found strength to free his child from +a hateful alliance, and the thought made him happy. +Ruth stooped down, and kissed him with her cold lips. +The touch startled him. He opened his eyes, and saw +how wan and tremulous she was.</p> + +<p>"Do not fret!" he said, tenderly. "Why should you, +darling? I have sent him away. I have told him that +the child God gave to me shall never be his!"</p> + +<p>At another time this news would have thrilled the girl +with unutterable joy; but she scarcely felt it now. The +fear that a marriage with Storms might be urged upon +her seemed a small trouble, while the awful possibility +he had fastened on her fears was so vivid and so strong.</p> + +<p>"I thought it would please you," said the sick man, +disappointed. "I did."</p> + +<p>"And so it does, father; but we will not talk of it now. +His coming has tired you, and I—I, too, am wanting a +little rest. If you do not care, I will go away, while you +sleep, and stay in my own room."</p> + +<p>"There is wine on the table. Drink a little. I suppose +it may be shadows from the ivy, but you look pale, +Ruth."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is the shadows, but I will drink some wine."</p> + +<p>She poured some wine into a glass, and drank it +thirstily; but it brought no color into her cheeks, and +none came there until she stood in the porch, after night-fall, +and repeated to herself,<span class="pagenum">[300]</span> +"I must see him! I will see him! I must know the +truth, or die!"</p> + +<p>This resolve had made her stronger; perhaps the wine +had helped, for she was not used to it, and so the effect +was all the more powerful. At any rate, she drew the +hood over her face, wrapped a dark mantle about her, +and went out across the garden, into the path of the +wilderness, and on to the home of which she might some +day, God willing, become the mistress. When she +thought of this, the shadow of that other picture, which +had taken away so much of her life in the path she had +trod only a few hours before, came with it, and that which +had been to her a proud hope was blotted out.</p> + +<p>"I will believe it from no lips but his," she thought, +looking out from the shadows at the vast gray building +that held her heart in its chambers. "Oh, that I knew +what was in my father's letter!"</p> + +<p>She left the shelter of the park, and walked cautiously +across the lawn, concealing her progress as best she could +among flowering thickets, or a great tree that spread its +branches here and there in forest grandeur.</p> + +<p>She entered the flower-thickets under that window, +the only one she cared for in all that vast building. A +faint light came through it, softened by falls of lace, +tinted red by the glow of silken curtains, and broken into +gleams by the ivy leaves outside. Her heart gave a +wild leap as she saw that the shutters were unclosed; +then a great fear seized upon her; some person might +be within the chamber, or lingering in the grounds. +Cautiously, and holding her breath, she crept toward the +masses of ivy that wound its thick foliage up to the balcony. +If it stirred in the wind she shrunk back terrified. +Where it cast deep shadows downward, she fancied +that some man was crouching.<span class="pagenum">[301]</span></p> + +<p>Still the girl crept forward, her anxiety half lost in +womanly dread of being misunderstood, even by the +beloved being she sought. But, for the great agony of +doubt at her heart, she would have turned even then, so +strong was the delicacy of her pride.</p> + +<p>She was under the balcony now, behind the ivy, which +covered her like a mantle. Up the narrow steps she +crept, and crouching by the window, looked in. No one +was moving. A night-lamp shed its soft moonlight on +a marble console, on which some wine and fruit cast +shadows. In the middle of the room stood the couch +she had seen but once, shaded with rich silk and clouds +of lace, snow-white and filmy, seeming to cool the air, it +was so frost-like. These curtains were flung back at +the pillows, and there she saw her husband in a sound +sleep. She held her breath, she laid her face close to the +window. Then, with impotent fingers, tried the sash. +It was fastened on the inside.</p> + +<p>What could she do? How arouse the sleeper? Impatiently +she beat her hand on the glass. Still more recklessly +she called her husband's name.</p> + +<p>"Walton! Walton!"</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVIII" id="CHAPTER_XLVIII"></a>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">WATCHING HER RIVAL.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>ON</b> the same night that Ruth had taken a desperate +resolve to see her husband, Richard Storms was +waiting in the lake house for the coming of Judith Hart, +who had promised to meet him there. The presence of<span class="pagenum">[302]</span> +this girl in the neighborhood had at first been a great +annoyance to him; but now he both feared and hated +her, so, coward-like, cajoled and deceived her by forced +professions of love, while, with the same false tongue, he +could not refrain from such hints of another as drove +the poor creature half mad with jealous rage.</p> + +<p>Though her presence was hateful to him, he dared not +offend her beyond a certain point, and had no power to +drive her back into her former isolated life; or in +revenge she might, as she had often threatened, find out +Ruth Jessup, and give both her and the father a good +reason for forbidding him the house forever. He knew +well enough, that in her reckless daring, she would not +hesitate to accuse herself of any offence so long as the +odium reached him also.</p> + +<p>Thus shackled in his desire to free himself from the +girl altogether, it mattered not to him how roughly, +Storms waited for her at the lake house that night, +lying at full length on the bench which ran along one +end of the crazy old building.</p> + +<p>Judith came in, at length, full of turbulent excitement. +She had been walking rapidly, and swept through the +long grass like a rush of wind.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you are here!" she said, seating herself on one +end of the bench as Storms swung his feet to the floor; +"I thought you would be waiting, but it isn't you that +oftenest gets here first, but I have seen some one you'll +like to hear about."</p> + +<p>"Seen some one? Of course, one of the gamekeepers."</p> + +<p>"No. I have seen that girl, Ruth Jessup."</p> + +<p>"Ruth Jessup in the park at this time of night? +You cannot make me believe that."</p> + +<p>"In the park and at 'Norston's Rest,' down upon<span class="pagenum">[303]</span> +her knees by a window, with ivy all around it, looking +in upon the sick heir like a hungry cat watching a +canary."</p> + +<p>"You saw this, Judith—saw it with your own eyes?" +cried Storms, sitting upright on the bench.</p> + +<p>"Saw it! I should think so. She was so busy trying +to open the window, that I went close under the balcony +and could see her face plain enough by the light that +came through the glass."</p> + +<p>"Trying to open the window—did you say that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, again and again. She grew desperate at last, +and shook it, calling out, 'Walton! Walton!'"</p> + +<p>"She called that name?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, more than once. It didn't wake the young +man inside though, but some one else must have heard, +for the door opened and a man came into the chamber."</p> + +<p>"What did she do then?"</p> + +<p>"Do! Why she shrunk back and came down some +stone steps that are hid away in the ivy, and was half +across the flower garden before I dared to move."</p> + +<p>"But you overtook her?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I did; though my feet got tangled in +with the ivy, and I almost fell down; but, once safe on +the ground, I tracked her swift enough, for she seemed +to scorn moving beyond a walk."</p> + +<p>"But she did not see you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I can move quietly enough when it suits me. +So she knew nothing of me, though I longed to give her +a sharp bit of my tongue."</p> + +<p>"I'll be bound you did," said Storms, with a disagreeable +laugh.</p> + +<p>The girl took this as a compliment, and gave the +hand, which was dropped listlessly into hers, a grateful +pressure.<span class="pagenum">[304]</span></p> + +<p>"'It was awful ungrateful of the young gentleman, +though, to be so sound asleep,' I was longing to say. If +it had been my Richard, now."</p> + +<p>"Did you think to say that?" cried Storms, starting +up in sudden wrath. "Would you have dared to say +that to her?"</p> + +<p>Judith started to her feet also. He had jerked his +hand from hers, and stood frowning on her in the moonlight, +while defiance kindled in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"That's just what I would 'a' been glad to say; not that +she would have cared a brass farthing, for my opinion is, +that girl hates your very name, for all your talk that +she's dying for you. But such words from her would +have been red-hot coals to me."</p> + +<p>"Do you think she would stoop to bandy words with +such as you?" said Storms, softening his wrath into a +malicious enjoyment of her jealous passion.</p> + +<p>"Such as me, indeed! What is the difference, I +should like to know? Only this. I come here because +you ask me and urge me to it, while she hasn't the courage, +but sits worshipping her sweetheart like a rabbit +peeping into a garden it has not the spirit to enter."</p> + +<p>"Worshipping! As if she cared for the man!" said +Storms, with supreme disdain. "There is nothing in it. +She only wants to make me jealous, thinking to bring +me back again in that way."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me as if you were jealous."</p> + +<p>"Jealous!" repeated the young man, growing cautious +on reflection. "As if I cared enough for Ruth Jessup +for that!"</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure," answered Judith, as if talking +to herself; "but when I am, it will be a dark day for +one of us."<span class="pagenum">[305]</span></p> + +<p>Storms laughed.</p> + +<p>"Always threatening some terrible thing," he said, +"as if there were any need of that; but how came you, +my own sweetheart, Judith Hart, to be wandering about +'The Rest?'"</p> + +<p>"I saw her as I was coming this way. She was +standing in the cottage porch, giving frightened looks +around. The moon was not up yet, though it is climbing +into the sky now, but a light streamed through the +passage, and I saw her plain enough. Then she stole +out, as if in search of some one. I thought she was +going into the wilderness."</p> + +<p>"Ah, ha! Who was jealous then?"</p> + +<p>"Who denies it? That minute I could have killed +her. She turned toward 'The Rest.' I followed, thinking—"</p> + +<p>"Thinking that I might come that way."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes. I did think just that; and followed her +softly as one of your own hounds would have crept. +When I saw where she was going, the fire all went out +of my heart. I could have cried for joy that—that it +was no worse."</p> + +<p>"Still you hated her!"</p> + +<p>"Because she dared to love where I did."</p> + +<p>"Do you indeed love me so, Judith?"</p> + +<p>"Do I love myself, so common and worthless, compared +to you? Do I love the air I breathe? Do I love +sleep, after a hard day's work? Oh, oh, Richard, why +ask such silly questions?"</p> + +<p>"Why? Oh, because one is never certain. Girls are +so fickle now-a-days."</p> + +<p>"As if any girl who ever loved you could be fickle."</p> + +<p>Storms looked into the girl's face as she nestled close<span class="pagenum">[306]</span> +to him, and a strange, fond glow came into his eyes. +He was thinking how much she looked like Ruth Jessup, +with that warm love-light in her face—how beautiful +she really was in the lustre of that rising moon. Tenderness +with him at the moment was not all a pretence. +But Storms was a man to bring the worst as well as the +best passions of a heart down to his own interests, and +never, for a moment, since he had seen old Jessup's letter +in Judith's hand, had he ceased to devise some means of +gaining possession of it.</p> + +<p>"Words are so easily spoken," he said; "but I like +deeds. I want the girl I love to trust me."</p> + +<p>"And don't I trust you? What other girl would be +here at this time of the night, risking her character, +when she has nothing else in the world, just because you +want things to be kept secret, while I can't for the life +of me see the reason of it?"</p> + +<p>"That is what I complain of. True love asks no +questions."</p> + +<p>"How can you say that when you have done nothing +but ask questions ever since I came here? All about +her too," retorted the quick-witted girl.</p> + +<p>"That is because I am interested in everything you +do," was the prompt answer. "How could I watch here +half an hour, and at last see you rush in so wildly, half +out of breath and panting, to tell all that you had seen, +without feeling some curiosity?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, I can understand that."</p> + +<p>"Then there is another thing."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Judith, more quietly; for she guessed +what was coming. "What is it?"</p> + +<p>"That paper. It is of no use to you, and might help +me a good deal."</p> + +<p>"How?"<span class="pagenum">[307]</span></p> + +<p>The girl spoke seriously, and he could tell by her +voice that her lips closed with a firm pressure when she +ceased.</p> + +<p>"It might help me about the lease."</p> + +<p>Judith seemed to reflect a moment, then she looked up +quietly, and said:</p> + +<p>"When we are married, Richard."</p> + +<p>"Why, child, it is only a scrap of paper that no one +but Sir Noel will ever care for."</p> + +<p>"I know that, and sometimes wonder you are so sharp +after it. My arm is all sorts of colors yet where you +grasped it after that race down the banks of the lake. +If the game-keeper had not come in sight, I don't know +what might have chanced. Oh, Richard, your face was +awful that day. It frightened me!"</p> + +<p>"Too much, I fear, and that makes you so obstinate. +I dare say that you never keep the bit of paper about +you?" questioned Storms, with a dull, sinister look, +which was so perceptible in the moonlight that the girl +shrunk from him unconsciously.</p> + +<p>"No," she answered. "I never keep it about me, and +never shall till we are wed."</p> + +<p>"And then?"</p> + +<p>"I will give it to you, as you crave it so much, and in +its stead take the marriage lines. If it were worth a +thousand pounds, I would rather have the lines."</p> + +<p>"A thousand pounds! Why, lass, what are you +thinking of? Who ever heard of giving money for a +scrap of writing like that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, I'm sure. Only you wanted it so +much, and if you were to play me false, as people say +you have done with many a sweetheart before me, it might +be put to a bad use."<span class="pagenum">[308]</span></p> + +<p>"But they slander me. I never yet betrayed a sweetheart," +said Storms, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Then it is true that Ruth Jessup was the first to give +you up. No, no, do not say it. No woman on earth +could do that. I would rather think you false to her +than not. The other I never could believe—never."</p> + +<p>"Well, believe what you like; but do not come here +again without that bit of paper. I did not fairly read +it."</p> + +<p>The suppressed eagerness in his voice aroused all the +innate craft in the girl's nature. He had outdone his +part, and thus enhanced the advantage that she held over +him to a degree that made her determined to keep the +paper. In her soul she had no trust in the man; but was +willing to win him by any means that promised to be +most effectual. Still she was capable of meeting craft with +deception, and did it now.</p> + +<p>"Well, if I think of it."</p> + +<p>Storms read the insincerity of her evasion, and seemed +to cast the subject from his mind. But he felt the thraldom +of this girl's power with a keenness that might have +terrified her, had she comprehended it. Besides, the +news she had brought to him that evening was of a kind +to make him hate the bearer and intensify his thirst for +vengeance on young Hurst.<span class="pagenum">[309]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIX" id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a>CHAPTER XLIX.</h2> + +<p class="h3">BROODING THOUGHTS.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>WHAT</b> are you thinking of, Richard, with your +eyes wandering out on the water and your +mouth so set?" asked the girl, after some moments of +silence that began to trouble her.</p> + +<p>Storms started as if a shot had passed him.</p> + +<p>"Thinking of—Why nothing that should trouble +you."</p> + +<p>"But you don't care to talk, and me sitting by!"</p> + +<p>"What is the difference, so long as you were in my +mind? I was thinking that there might as well be an +end of this. We could have the matter over, and no +noise about it, you know."</p> + +<p>Judith's heart made a great leap.</p> + +<p>"Were you thinking of that, Richard? Oh, tell +me!"</p> + +<p>She was sitting on the floor, leaning her elbow on the +bench, where Storms had flung himself with an utter +disregard to her comfort. Now she leaned forward till +her head rested on his bosom, and she clasped him fondly +with her firm, white arms.</p> + +<p>"Were you thinking of that now, really, darling?"</p> + +<p>Storms did not actually push her away; but he turned +over with his face to the wall, muttering:</p> + +<p>"Don't bother. What else should it be?"</p> + +<p>"Then I must be getting ready, you know. The mistress +must have warning," said the girl, too happy for +resentment.</p> + +<p>"The mistress! There it is. You cannot expect me<span class="pagenum">[310]</span> +to take a wife from the bar-room. No, no! We must +manage it in some other way."</p> + +<p>Judith drew a deep breath.</p> + +<p>"I will do anything you tell me—anything at all," she +said. "Only let me make sure that you are as happy as +I am."</p> + +<p>"Happy! Of course I'm happy. Why not?" answered +the young man. "Now, you'd better be going +home. It is getting late."</p> + +<p>Judith arose, drew her scarlet sacque closer around +her, pulled the jaunty little hat over her eyes, and stood +in the moonlight waiting for her lover. He arose heavily, +and dropping both clasped hands between his knees, sat +in the shadow, regarding her with sullen interest. She +could not see his face, but there was a glitter of his eyes +that pierced the shadows with sinister brightness. The +picture of the girl was so vivid, framed in the old doorway, +with that deep background of water over which the +moonlight seemed to leap, leaving that in darkness, and +herself flooded in light, so fearfully vivid, that the man +whom she hoped to marry could never afterward sweep +it from his brain.</p> + +<p>"Come," she said, "I'm ready."</p> + +<p>"And so am I," he answered, starting up and dashing +his hands apart, as if a serpent had entangled them +against his will. "What are you waiting for?"</p> + +<p>"What have I been long and long waiting for?" said +the girl; "but it has come at last. Oh, Richard, say that +it has come at last."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it has come at last," broke forth the man, +almost savagely. "You would have it so. Remember, +you would—"</p> + +<p>"Why, how cross you are. Was it I that first made +love?"<span class="pagenum">[311]</span></p> + +<p>"You? Yes. It always is the woman."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Richard, dear—how you love to torment me!"</p> + +<p>The girl took his arm, as she said this, and held to it +caressingly, with both hands, while her eyes, half-beaming, +half-tearful, sought in his face some contradiction of +his savage mood.</p> + +<p>"Is the torment all on one side?" he muttered, enduring +her caressing touch with surly impatience.</p> + +<p>"There, Dick, only say for once that you are happy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, wonderfully happy. There, now, let us walk +faster."</p> + +<p>They did walk on; now in the moonlight, now in +deep shadow, she leaning upon him with fond dependence, +which he appeared to recognize, though few words +were spoken between them.</p> + +<p>Once, as they passed a sheltered copse half-way between +the lake and Jessup's cottage, both saw the figure +of a man retreating from the path, and knew that he was +regarding them from under covert. Then Storms did +meet the girl's bright glance, and they both laughed with +subdued merriment.</p> + +<p>"He is following us. I hear his step in the undergrowth," +whispered Judith, and Storms answered back:</p> + +<p>"Give him plenty of time."</p> + +<p>When they reached Jessup's cottage, the little building +was quite dark, except the faint gleam of a night-lamp +in the sick man's room. At the gate they both paused. +Judith turned with her face to the moonlight, and +offered her lips for the kiss Storms bent lovingly to give +her. Then they stood together, hand-in-hand, as if +reluctant to part for a minute, and he went away, looking +back now and then, as if anxious for her safety, while +she stood by the gate watching him.<span class="pagenum">[312]</span></p> + +<p>When the young man was quite gone, Judith opened +the gate, without even a click of the latch, and stole like +a thief toward the porch, which was so laden with ivy +and jasmines that no one could see her when once in its +shelter. Still she shrunk back, and dragged the foliage +over her, when the gamekeeper came out from his concealment, +and walked back and forth before the cottage. +At last his steps receded, and, peering through the ivy, +Judith saw him move away toward the lake. Then she +stole out of the porch, crept with bent form to the gate, +and darted in a contrary direction with the speed of a +lapwing. Somewhat later, the girl stole through the +back yard of the inn, tried her key in the kitchen door, +and crept up to her room in the garret, where she carefully +put away her outer garments, and went to bed so +passionately happy that she lay awake all night with +both hands folded over her bosom, and the name of +Richard Storms trembling now and then up from her +heart.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_L" id="CHAPTER_L"></a>CHAPTER L.</h2> + +<p class="h3">YOUNG HURST AND LADY ROSE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>IT</b> was a bright day at "Norston's Rest," when the +young heir came from his sick-chamber, for the first +time, and, leaning on Webb, entered the pretty little parlor +in which Lady Rose had made his bouquet the +evening he was hurt. She sat waiting for him now, +demurely busy with some trifle of richly-tinted embroidery, +which, having a dainty taste, she had selected, I dare +say, because it gave a touch of rich color to her simple<span class="pagenum">[313]</span> +white dress, looped here and there into soft clouds by a +broad blue sash, which might have lacked effect but for +this artistic device. Perhaps the invalid understood this, +for he smiled when the fair patrician just lifted her eyes, +as if his coming had been quite unimportant to her, and +settled down into one of the loveliest pictures imaginable, +working away at her tinted silks with fingers that quivered +among them, and eyes that no whiteness of lid or +thickness of lash could keep from beaming out their happiness.</p> + +<p>There had been a time when this fair girl would +have sprung from her seat and met him at the threshold; +but now, she bent lower over her work, fearing that he +might see how warmly-red her cheek was getting, and +wonder at it. Indeed he well might wonder, for what +word of love had he ever spoken that should have set her +heart to beating so, when she first heard his uncertain +step on the stairs?</p> + +<p>All at once the young lady remembered that she was +acting strangely. Starting up, she gave him her place +among the blue cushions of her own favorite couch; then +sat down on a low ottoman, and fell to work again.</p> + +<p>"How natural everything looks!" said the young man, +gazing languidly around. "I could be sworn, Rose, that +you were working on that same bit of embroidery the +day I was hurt."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose blushed vividly. She had snatched the +embroidery from her work-table, as she heard him coming, +and was in fact working on the same leaf in which +her needle had been left that day.</p> + +<p>"We have all been so anxious," she said, gently.</p> + +<p>"And all about me—troublesome fellow that I am. +It may be fancy, Lady Rose, but my father seems to +have suffered more than I have."<span class="pagenum">[314]</span></p> + +<p>"He has, indeed, suffered. One month seems to have +aged him more than years should have done," said the +young lady.</p> + +<p>"Have I been in such terrible danger then?"</p> + +<p>"For a time we thought you in great danger, and were +in sad suspense." She spoke with hesitation, and Hurst +noticed it with some surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rose," he said, "it seems to me as if you +had changed, also. What has come over you all?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, but great thankfulness that you are better, +Walton."</p> + +<p>"And do you care so much for me? I hardly thought +it," said the young man, a little sadly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Walton, can you ask?"</p> + +<p>The great blue eyes, lifted to his, were swimming in +tears, yet the quivering lips made a brave effort to smile.</p> + +<p>A painful thought struck him then, and his heart sunk +like lead under it.</p> + +<p>"It would be a strange thing if you had not felt anxious, +Rose; for no brother ever loved an only sister better +than I have loved you."</p> + +<p>As he uttered these words, Hurst was watching that +fair young face with keen interest. He saw the color +fade from it, until the rich red of the beautiful mouth +had all died away. Then he gathered the silken cushion +roughly together, so as to shade his own face, and a faint +groan came from him.</p> + +<p>"Are you in pain?" questioned the young lady, bending +over him. "Can I do anything?"</p> + +<p>Her breath floated across his mouth, her loose curls +swept downward, and almost touched him.</p> + +<p>The young man turned his face to the wall, and made +no answer. He was heart-sick.<span class="pagenum">[315]</span></p> + +<p>And so was she even to faintness.</p> + +<p>He lay minute after minute, buried in thought. The +young lady had no other refuge for her wounded pride, +so she fell to work again; but not on the same object. +Now she sat down to a drawing of the Black Lake. The +old summer-house was a principal object in the foreground, +and the banks, heavy with rushes, and broken +with ravines, completed a gloomy but picturesque scene, +which had a wonderfully artistic effect.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing there?" questioned Hurst, after +a long silence.</p> + +<p>"It is a sketch of the lake which I am trying to +finish up at once, in case pretty Ruth Jessup takes us by +surprise."</p> + +<p>There was something in the girl's voice, as she said +this, that made Hurst rise slowly to his elbow.</p> + +<p>"Takes us by surprise! What do you mean, Rose?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, haven't you heard? I forget. Webb was told +not to disturb you with gossip; but Ruth's little flirtation +with young Storms has been progressing famously +since you were hurt, and I am thinking of this for a +wedding gift."</p> + +<p>"For a wedding gift! Ruth Jessup—young Storms. +What romance is this?"</p> + +<p>The young man spoke sharply, sitting upright, his face +whiter than illness had left it, and his eyes shining with +more than feverish lustre.</p> + +<p>"I do not know that it is a romance," answered Lady +Rose. "At any rate, I hope not. Ruth is a good, sweet +girl, and would never encourage a man to the extent she +does, if a marriage were not understood; besides, old +Storms was here only a day or two ago wanting more +land included in his new lease, because his son thought +of setting up for himself."<span class="pagenum">[316]</span></p> + +<p>"Setting up for himself! The hound!" exclaimed +Hurst, between his teeth. "And Sir Noel. I dare say +he gave the land. He has always been exceptionally +eager to portion off pretty Ruth. Of course, old Storms +got the lease."</p> + +<p>"I do not know," answered Lady Rose.</p> + +<p>"But I mean that this farce shall go no farther. This +man Storms is a knave, and should be dealt with as +such."</p> + +<p>"I am inclined to think Ruth Jessup does not believe +this, for scarcely a night passes that she is not seen with +him in the park."</p> + +<p>"Seen with him! What! My—With him!"</p> + +<p>"So it is understood in the servants' hall."</p> + +<p>"The servants' hall!"</p> + +<p>Hurst fairly ground his teeth with rage. Had Ruth's +good name fallen so low that it was a matter of criticism +in the servants' hall?</p> + +<p>"You know Mrs. Mason is her godmother?"</p> + +<p>"Well!"</p> + +<p>"And, of course, takes a deep interest in the matter. +She talks all her troubles over with Mrs. Hipple, and +even came to me about the wedding gifts. Of course, I +took an interest. Ruth has so long been the pet of the +house, and I love her; that is, there was a time when I +loved her dearly."</p> + +<p>"Loved her dearly? And now you speak with tears +in your voice, as if that pleasant time had passed. Why +is that, Lady Rose?"</p> + +<p>The young lady's voice sunk low as she answered,</p> + +<p>"I—I think we have both changed."</p> + +<p>"But there must be some reason for this. What has +Ruth done that you should shrink away from her?"<span class="pagenum">[317]</span></p> + +<p>"Perhaps she feels the difference of position," faltered +Rose.</p> + +<p>"But that has changed in nothing, at least in her disfavor," +answered Hurst, flushing red with a remembrance +of that day in the little church.</p> + +<p>"She was so dainty, so sweetly retiring. It seemed to +me impossible that she could ever have been brought to +care for a man like young Storms. Now, that it is so, +can I help feeling separated?"</p> + +<p>"By Heavens! Lady Rose—" The young man +checked himself suddenly, adding, with haughty decision, +"We have dropped into a strange discussion, and +are handling the name of a young girl with less delicacy +than becomes me, at least. Shall we speak of something +else?"</p> + +<p>A flood of haughty crimson, and a struggle against +the tears that rose in spite of herself, was all the reply +this curt speech received from Lady Rose. The poor +girl was not quite sure of her own disinterested judgment. +For the world, she would not have said a word +against Ruth, believing that word false; but she was +conscious of such infinite relief when the news came to +her of the engagement between Ruth Jessup and Storms, +that the joy of it made her self-distrustful. How could +she be glad that a creature so bright, so delicate, and +thoroughly well-bred, should be mated with this keen, +sinister man, whom no one loved, and who was held, +she knew well, in little respect by his own class? Was +she willing to see this sacrifice, that her own jealous +fears might be appeased, and did Walton Hurst suspect +the feelings which were a wound to her own delicacy? +Were his last brief words a reproach to her?</p> + +<p>Tears of wounded pride, and bitter self-distrust, rose<span class="pagenum">[318]</span> +to her eyes, so thick and fast, that the lady almost fled +from the room, that Hurst might not hear the sobs that +she had no power to suppress.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LI" id="CHAPTER_LI"></a>CHAPTER LI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE GODMOTHER'S MISTAKE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>YOUNG HURST</b> was scarcely conscious that he was +left alone. His feeble strength was taxed to the +utmost. That one burst of indignant feeling had left +his breath in thrall, and his limbs quivering. At length +he became conscious that Lady Rose was gone, and starting +up, with a sudden effort of strength, flung open the +glass door, which led out upon a flower-terrace, and would +have passed through on his way to the cottage, for his +brain was all on fire, but that Mrs. Mason stood there +chatting to one of the under-gardeners, who was trimming +the rose-bushes, while he talked with her.</p> + +<p>"Mercy on me!" cried the dame, breaking off her +stream of gossip, with a cry of amazement, "if there +isn't the young master, looking like the beautiful tall +ghost of his own dear self. Never mind cutting the +flowers now. I'll be back for them presently."</p> + +<p>Young Hurst had forced his strength too far; a swift +dizziness seized upon him, and, but for a garden-chair, +that stood near, he must have fallen before the good +housekeeper reached him. As it was, he half lay upon +the iron seat, grasping it with his hands, or he would +have entirely dropped to the ground.</p> + +<p>"My master! My dear young master!" cried the good<span class="pagenum">[319]</span> +woman, half-lifting him to a sitting posture. "What +could have tempted you out in this state? No wonder +you were taken faint, and this the first time down-stairs. +There, now, the fresh wind is doing you good. Dear me, +it gives one a pleasure to see you smile again."</p> + +<p>"The air is sweet, and you are very kind, Mason. I +felt so strong a minute ago; but see where it has ended."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is nothing. The first step always counts +for the most. To-day across the terrace—to-morrow in +the park!"</p> + +<p>"Do you think so, Mason? Do you really think so?"</p> + +<p>"Think so? Of course! Young people get up so +quickly. If it were me now, or that old man at the +garden cottage, there would be no telling."</p> + +<p>"You have seen him, then? Is he better? Is he—"</p> + +<p>"Seen him? Of course I have. It is a heavy walk, +but Webb told me how eagerly you took to the strawberries; +so I bade Ruthy save the ripest for you every +morning; not that she needed telling, for she has picked +every one of them, with her own fingers, and the flowers, +too."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" murmured the young man, and he smiled +as if the strawberries were melting in his mouth.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, this morning, when she got here with +her little basket full, her fingers were red with them; +for she came directly from the beds, that you might have +them in their morning-dew, as if they would be the better +for that, foolish child."</p> + +<p>"Is she well? Is she looking well, Mason?"</p> + +<p>"What, Ruthy? No; I can't just say that. With +so much sickness in the house, how should she? But a +rose is a rose, whether it be white or red."</p> + +<p>"Does she ever inquire about me, Mason? We used +to be play-fellows, you know."<span class="pagenum">[320]</span></p> + +<p>"Inquire? As if those great eyes of hers had done +anything but ask questions; but then years divide people +of her rank and yours. Children who play together as +equals are master and servant as they become men and +women, and my goddaughter is not one to forget her +place."</p> + +<p>A faint smile quivered over Hurst's lips.</p> + +<p>"No, she is not one to forget her place," he murmured, +tenderly. Then, remembering himself, he said, with an +attempt at carelessness, "But is there not some foolish +story afloat about young Storms? That might trouble +her, I should think."</p> + +<p>"Trouble her? Why, the child only laughs, as if it +was the most maidenly thing on earth to be roaming +about with the young man by moonlight and starlight, +for that matter, and protesting to her best friends that +there is nothing in it; that she has no thoughts of marrying +him, and never leaves the cottage on any pretence +after night-fall. Of course young women think such +things no lies, and never expect to be believed; but Ruthy +has been brought up better, and need not attempt to +throw sand into her godmother's eyes, whatever she does +with the rest of the world."</p> + +<p>"You speak as if you believed all this nonsense," +said Hurst, with quick fire in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Believe it? Why, there isn't a man on the estate +who has not seen them, over and over again. Not that +there is harm in it, because old Storms and Jessup have +agreed upon it while they were children, and Ruth was +ever obedient. Only I don't like her way of denying +what everybody knows, especially to me, who have been +a mother to her. It isn't just what I had a right to +expect, now, is it, Master Walton?"<span class="pagenum">[321]</span></p> + +<p>"I cannot tell; your statement seems so strange."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is only the old story. Girls never will tell +the truth about such matters; besides, I do not wonder +that my goddaughter is just a little shamefaced about her +sweetheart. He isn't one to boast of overmuch; though, +they tell me, no needle was ever so sharp on money. +There he beats old Storms, out and out. Jessup has laid +by a pretty penny for his child, to say nothing of what I +may do. So Ruthy will not go away from home empty-handed, +and one may be sure he knows it."</p> + +<p>Walton Hurst broke into a light laugh, but he became +serious at once, and, looking kindly on the genial old +woman, said, +"You always were good to her, God bless you!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, for saying so; but who could help it, the +pretty little orphan? It was like taking a bird into one's +heart."</p> + +<p>"It was, indeed," answered Hurst, thinking of himself, +rather than the old woman.</p> + +<p>"And then to think that she must fly off into another +nest. Well, well, girls will be girls. Speaking of that, +here comes my Lady Rose, looking more like a lily to +my thinking, so I will go my way."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mason did go her way, leaving the young man +for a while perfectly alone, for, though Lady Rose was +hovering about her own pretty boudoir, she did not come +fairly out of its shelter, waiting, in her maidenly reserve, +for some sign that her presence out of doors would be +welcome.</p> + +<p>No such sign was given her, for Hurst was greatly +disturbed by what he had heard, and almost frantic with +desire to see Ruth, and hear a contradiction of these base +reports from her own lips. Not that he doubted her, or<span class="pagenum">[322]</span> +gave one moment's credence to rumors so improbable, +but, with returning health, came a feverish desire to see +the young creature for whom he had been willing to +sacrifice everything, and redeem her, so far as he could, +from the snare into which he had guided her. In his +hot impetuosity, he had involved himself and her in a +labyrinth of difficulties that led, as he could not help +seeing, in his calmer moments, to deception, if not dishonor.</p> + +<p>"I will atone for it all," he said to himself. "The +moment I am strong enough to face his just resentment, +my father shall know everything. God grant that the +disappointment will only rest with him," he added, as +his disturbed mind turned on Lady Rose with a thrill of +compunction. "In my mad haste I may have; but no, +no! she is too proud, too thoroughbred for a grand passion. +It is only such reckless fools as I am that risk all +at a single throw. But Ruth, my sweet young wife, how +could I force this miserable deception on her? Had I +but possessed the courage to assert my own independent +manhood, my dear father would have had less to forgive, +and I—But no matter, I have made my bed, and must +lie in it, which would be nothing if she did not suffer +also."</p> + +<p>Thus the young man sat thinking, while Lady Rose +flitted in and out of the little boudoir, striving to trill +soft snatches of song and hide under music the anguish +that made her so restless.</p> + +<p>Hurst heard these soft gushes of melody, and mocked +his previous anxiety with a smile.</p> + +<p>"What a presumptuous cad I am, to think that she +will know a regret," he muttered, with a sense of relief.<span class="pagenum">[323]</span></p> + +<p>Lady Rose opened the glass door, and looked out +smiling, as if care had never touched her heart.</p> + +<p>"Shall I come and read to you?" she said.</p> + +<p>"No," he answered, rising. "I will come to you."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LII" id="CHAPTER_LII"></a>CHAPTER LII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">SITTING AT THE WINDOW.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>RUTH JESSUP</b> had no courage to attempt another +interview with her bridegroom. Every morning +she made an excuse to visit "The Rest" with fruit from +her own garden, always accompanied by the choicest +flowers arranged with a touch of loving art, which he +began to read eagerly, now that he knew from whom +they came. Once or twice she met Sir Noel, who, for the +first time in his life, seemed to avoid her. The pleasant +greeting which her rare beauty and brightness had been +sure to win from him, no longer welcomed her; but was +enchanged for a grave bow, and sometimes—so her tender +conscience read the change—by a look of reproach. +Lady Rose she purposely shunned; partly because a +sense of deception hung heavily upon her, and partly +because of the restless jealousy, which sprang out of her +own intense love, that admitted no other worshipper near +her idol.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mason, too, had taken to lecturing her, making +her discourse offensive by constant allusions to young +Storms, and the household arrangements which must +soon be made at the farm. No denial or protest left the +least impression on the good dame, who had made up<span class="pagenum">[324]</span> +her mind that such things were to be expected from over-sensitive +girls like Ruth, and must not be set down +against them as falsehoods, being, at the worst, only a +forgivable exaggeration of natural modesty. Besides, +she had taken an opportunity to speak to the young man +himself, who had laughed knowingly when she told him +of Ruth's denial of all engagement between them, and +replied that a woman of her age ought to be old enough to +understand that a girl's "no" always meant "yes" when +the time came. For his part, he was only waiting for the +lease to be signed. Anyway, Ruth would set no day till +that was done, and no blame either. So if Mrs. Mason +wanted to do her goddaughter a good turn and stop people +from talking, she had better help that on. Everybody +knew that she had great influence with Sir Noel, +and the lease was all that was wanted to make things go +smoothly between him and her goddaughter.</p> + +<p>Against all this evidence it is not wonderful that the +housekeeper went quietly on with her preparations, and +gave no heed to Ruth's denials, tearful and even angry +as they often were.</p> + +<p>All this was very hard on Ruth, who found herself +miserably baffled at every point. All her friends seemed +to have dropped away from her. Their very affection +was turned into mockery by persistent disbelief of all she +said. She still hovered about the great house each morning +as a frightened bird flutters around its nest, but with +little chance of satisfaction, for, except the housekeeper's +room, all the establishment seemed closed to her.</p> + +<p>One day the poor girl saw her husband on the flower-terrace, +moving slowly up and down among the roses, and +a cry of such exquisite delight broke from her, that Mrs. +Mason rose from her easy-chair and came to the window, +curious to know what had called it forth.<span class="pagenum">[325]</span></p> + +<p>What was going on? What had she seen to brighten +her face so? Had the sullen old peacock at last spread +himself, or was she wondering at the great bloom of roses? +Something out of the common had happened to set that +pale face into such a glow. Would Ruth tell her what +it was?</p> + +<p>No, Ruth could not tell her, for the color had all died +out of her face while the old woman was talking, and the +glorious show of flowers had turned to a misty cloud, in +which a beautiful young woman was floating, angel-like, +toward her husband, and he went to meet her.</p> + +<p>Lifting both hands to her face, Ruth shut out the +sight, and when Mrs. Mason insisted on questioning her, +turned upon the good woman like a hunted doe, and, +stamping her foot, declared, with great tears flashing in +her eyes, that nothing was the matter. Only—only so +much watching made her nervous, hysterical, some +people might call it; but that did not matter. Laughing +and crying amounted to the same thing. She would go +home. There nobody would trouble themselves about +her.</p> + +<p>With this reckless burst of feeling, Ruth flung herself +away from the outstretched arms of her half-frightened +godmother, and ran home, sobbing as she went. Would +this miserable state of anxiety never end? Must she go +on forever with this awful feeling gnawing at her heart? +Would this longing for protection, this baffled tenderness, +ever meet with a response? Ah, she understood now +the depths of God's punishment to poor Eve, when the +angel was placed at the gates of Paradise to keep her out. +Was Lady Rose chosen to guard her Paradise, because of +the sin through which she had entered it? How like a +glorious angel she looked in the soft whiteness and tender<span class="pagenum">[326]</span> +blue of garments that floated around her like a cloud. +How bright and rich were the waves and curls of her +hair! Surely no angel ever could be more beautiful!</p> + +<p>This passion of feeling, which combined so many elements +of unrest, was thrown into abeyance when Ruth +got home; for, looking up, with her hand on the gate, +she saw her father sitting at the chamber-window waiting +for her. It was the first time he had crossed the +floor since his illness. The thought that he had made +the dangerous attempt alone struck her with dismay.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, how could you?" was her first anxious +question as she entered the room. "Have I been gone +so long that you got impatient?"</p> + +<p>"No, no! I felt better, and took a longing to look on +the garden. I never was so many days without seeing it +before," said the old man. "I think it has done me +good, child."</p> + +<p>"I hope so. I hope so, father!"</p> + +<p>"See how well I walk. Never fear, lass. The old +father will soon be about again."</p> + +<p>The gardener got up from his chair with some difficulty +and walked across the room, waving Ruth aside +when she offered to support him.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, let me try it alone," he said, with feeble +triumph. "To-morrow I shall be getting down-stairs. +I only hope the young master is as strong."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, he is better; I saw him on the terrace +this morning."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that is brave. But how did he look? Thin, +like me?"</p> + +<p>"No, not like you, father. He was always more +slender, you know; but I think he was pale."</p> + +<p>"Of course, of course. He has a hard bout. Not +this, though, and I'm thankful for it."<span class="pagenum">[327]</span></p> + +<p>Jessup put one hand to his wounded breast as he spoke, +and Ruth observed, with anxiety, that he breathed with +difficulty.</p> + +<p>"You must not try to walk again, father," she said, +arranging his pillows and wiping the drops from his +forehead. "It exhausts you."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the kind, lass. I shall be all the stronger +in an hour. Why, at the end of three days, I mean to +walk over to 'The Rest,' and have a talk with the young +master."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how I wish you could!"</p> + +<p>"Could? I will. I thought he would have answered +my letter by a word, if no more. But I have no doubt +he is o'er weak for writing. Anyhow, we shall soon +know."</p> + +<p>Again Ruth breathed freely. The father was right. +In a few days she would hear directly from her husband—perhaps +see him. If he wished it, as she did, nothing +could keep him away, now that he had once gone into +the open air. Surely she was brave enough to bear her +burden a little longer.</p> + +<p>It was growing dark, now. Jessup had been at rest +most of the time; for, in his feeble state, crossing that +room had wearied him as no journey could have done +in health.</p> + +<p>Ruth had been restless as a caged bird all day. Her +load of apprehension regarding her father had been relieved +only that the keener trouble, deep down in her +woman's heart, should come uppermost with new force. +Those two persons among the roses on the terrace +haunted her like one of those pictures which the brain +admires and the heart loathes. Was not this man her +husband? Had he not sworn to love her, and her alone?<span class="pagenum">[328]</span> +What right had Lady Rose by his side? How dared +she look into those eyes whose love-light was all her +own only a few weeks ago? Alas! those weary, weary +weeks! How they had dragged and torn at her life! +How old she had grown since that circlet of gold had +been hidden in her bosom!</p> + +<p>Ruth was very sad that evening,—sad, and strangely +haunted. It seemed to her that, more than ever, she +was waiting for some great catastrophe. Black clouds +seemed gathering all around her; difficulties that she +had no strength to fathom or combat seemed to people +the clouds with ruin. Yet all was vague and dreary. +The poor child was worn out with loneliness and +watching.</p> + +<p>All at once she heard a footstep. Not the one she +dreaded, but the slow, faltering walk of some person who +hesitated, or paused, perhaps, for breath.</p> + +<p>Up to her feet the girl sprang, leaned forward, and +listened, holding down her heart with both trembling +hands, and checking the breath on her parted lips.</p> + +<p>The door opened softly.</p> + +<p>"Ruth!"</p> + +<p>She sprang forward, her arms outstretched, a glorious +smile transfiguring her face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my beloved! My husband!"</p> + +<p>She led him to the little couch on which so many +bitter tears had told of her misery. He was worn out +with walking, and fell upon it, smiling as she raised +his head from the cushions, and pillowed it on her +bosom, folding in his weakness with her young arms.</p> + +<p>"It may kill me, but I could not keep away. Oh, +my darling, how I have longed for a sight of you!" said +the young husband.<span class="pagenum">[329]</span></p> + +<p>Ruth gathered him closer in her arms, and, forgetting +everything but his presence, kissed the very words from +his smiling lips.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you have come. It is enough! It is enough!"</p> + +<p>Something startled her; a faint noise near the door. +She lifted her head, and there stood her father, looking +wildly upon her—upon him.</p> + +<p>Before she could move or speak, the old man swayed, +uttered one faint moan, and fell across the threshold.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LIII" id="CHAPTER_LIII"></a>CHAPTER LIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">DEATH.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>WHILE</b> Ruth had thought her father resting from +his dangerous exertions, that poor man had +been aroused into keen wakefulness which brought back +all his old powers of thought. His brain had been +cleared from the dull mists of fever, and the haze that +had gathered over his memory was swept away by the +physical effort he had made. He began to see things +clearly that had seemed fantastic and dreamlike till then. +The events of that night, when he received his wound, +came out before him in pictures. The great cedar of +Lebanon, the face he had seen for a moment gleaming +through the darkness, everything came to his memory +with the vividness of thoughts that burn like fire in an +enfeebled brain, driving out sleep and everything but +themselves.</p> + +<p>Slowly and surely dreams melted away into nothingness. +For, in the state of nervous excitement which<span class="pagenum">[330]</span> +sometimes comes with returning powers, after long +mental wanderings, all his ideas were supremely vivid.</p> + +<p>One by one he arranged past events in his mind. From +the time that he met young Storms in the park on his +way home that fatal night, and received the first cruel +idea of his daughter's shame, for which he cast the +young man to the earth in his rage, as we wrestle +with a mad dog, which leaves its poison in our veins. +He traced events down to the moment when a flash of +fire seemed to pass through him under the cedars, and +he awoke, helpless, in the little chamber whose walls +enclosed him now. Then he remembered the letter he +had written to young Hurst; hours before, he could not +have given its import, or have repeated a word of it. +But now, it came before him like the rest, a visible +substance. He saw the very handwriting, uneven and +irregular, such as he had left in copy-books years before, +and it rose up clearly in judgment against him +now. Reading these great, uncouth letters in his mind, +he groaned aloud.</p> + +<p>That which, in his fever, he had resolved to keep +secret forever, he had written out in a wild effort to +spare anxiety to another, suffering like himself. What +if that letter should fall into the hands of an enemy? +It conveyed a charge. It hinted at something that +might bring terrible suspicions on the young man who +had been dear to him almost as his own child. The +evil he had tried to prevent had been drawn ominously +near by his own hand.</p> + +<p>The old man lay there, wounding himself with the +most bitter reproaches. Into what mad folly had the +fever thrown him!</p> + +<p>William Jessup started up in bed, as these thoughts<span class="pagenum">[331]</span> +came crowding to his brain. He would at once redeem +the evil that had been done. That letter should be +revoked.</p> + +<p>Yes, he would do it that moment; then, perhaps, he +might sleep, for the intense working of his brain was +more than he could endure. It was like the rush and +thud of an engine, over which the master-hand had lost +control.</p> + +<p>Ruth Jessup's little desk lay open on the table close +by the bed, where she had been using it. Pen and paper +lay upon it, inviting the sick man to act at once. He +was still wrapped in a long flannel dressing-gown, and +his feet were thrust into slippers, which the hands of his +child had wrought with scrolls of glittering bead-work +and clusters of flowers—soft, dainty slippers, which made +no noise as he dropped his feet over the bedside, and +drew the table toward him with hands nerved to steadiness +by a firm resolve.</p> + +<p>Truly, that great hand shook, and the pen sometimes +leaped from the paper as some sharp, nervous thrill for +a moment disabled it. But for a time excitement was +strength, and to that was added a firm will: so the pen +worked on, linking letter to letter, and word to word, +until the white surface of a page was black with them. +Then he turned the sheet over, pressed it down with both +hands, and went on until his task was done.</p> + +<p>By this time his eyes were heavy with fatigue, and a +dusky fever-flush burned on his cheeks. He folded the +sheet of paper, which was well written over, and directed +it on the blank side to "Walton Hurst," then he pushed +the table aside, leaned back upon the pillow, and gave +way to the exhaustion which this great effort had brought +upon him. Still, the poor man could not sleep, the<span class="pagenum">[332]</span> +brain had been too much disturbed. While his body +lay supine, and his hands were almost helplessly folded +in his flannel dressing-gown, those deep-set eyes were wide +open, and burning with internal fires.</p> + +<p>Thus the sun went down, and a glory of crimson gold +and purple swept through the window, slowly darkening +the room.</p> + +<p>All this time, Ruth was below, sad and thoughtful, +gleaning a little pleasure from the fact that all was silent +overhead, which indicated a long, healthful sleep for +her father, after his first effort to cross the room. She +was very careful to make no noise that might disturb +the beloved sleeper, and thus sat hushed and watchful, +when the sweet shock of her husband's presence aroused +her.</p> + +<p>This noise had reached the chamber where Jessup lay.</p> + +<p>"She is below," he thought, struggling up from his +bed. "This very hour she shall carry my letter to 'The +Rest.' Will she ever forgive me for doubting her, my +sweet, good child? Ah, how did I find heart to wrong +her so?"</p> + +<p>With the letter clasped in one hand, and that buried +in the pocket of his dressing-gown, the old man moved +through the dusky starlight that filled his room, and +down the narrow stairs slowly, for he was weak, and +softly, for his slippers made no noise. He paused a +moment in the passage, holding by the banister, then, +guided by an arrow of light that shot through the door, +which was ajar, stood upon the threshold, struck through +the heart by what he saw—wounded again and unto +death by the words he heard.</p> + +<p>"It was true! it was true!" The words said to him +by that vile man in the park that night was a fact that<span class="pagenum">[333]</span> +struck him with a sharper pang than the rifle had given. +His child—his Ruth, his milk-white lamb—where was +she? "Whose head was that resting upon her bosom? +Whose voice was that murmuring in her ear?"</p> + +<p>The pain of that awful moment made him reel upon +his feet, a cry broke to his lips, bringing waves of red +blood with it. His hands lost their hold on the door-frame, +and his body fell across the threshold.</p> + +<p>For a moment two white, scared faces looked down +upon the fallen man, then at each other, dazed by the +sudden horror. Then Ruth sank to the floor, with a +piteous cry, lifted his head to her lap, and moaning over +it, besought her father to look up, to speak one word, to +lift but a finger, anything to prove that he was not dead.</p> + +<p>Hurst bent over her, feeble and trembling. He had +no power to lift the old man from her arms, but leaned +against the door-frame paralyzed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, wipe his lips, they are so red! Help me to lift +him up," cried Ruth, with woeful entreaty. "He is not +dead, you know. Remember how he fainted before, but +that was not death. Help me! Oh, Walton, help me, +or something dreadful may come to him."</p> + +<p>The agony of this pleading aroused all that remained +of strength in the young husband's frame. He stooped +down, and attempted to remove the old man from the +girl's clinging arms.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" she cried. "I can take care of him best. +Bring me some brandy—brandy, I say! You will find +it in—in the cupboard. Brandy, quick—quick, or he +may never come-to!"</p> + +<p>Hurst went to the closet, brought forth a flask of +brandy, and attempted to force some drops between those +parted lips, through which the teeth were gleaming with +ghastly whiteness.<span class="pagenum">[334]</span></p> + +<p>"He cannot drink! Bring a glass. Father! father! +try to move—try to swallow. It frightens me so! Ah, +try to understand! It frightens me so!"</p> + +<p>All efforts were in vain. Hurst knelt down, and, +with a hopeless effort, felt for the pulse that would never +beat again.</p> + +<p>"His head is growing heavier. See how he leans on +me! Of course, he knows—only—only—Oh, Walton! +There is no breath!" whispered the poor girl. "What +can I do—what can I do?"</p> + +<p>"Ruth, my poor child, I fear he will never breathe +again."</p> + +<p>"Never breathe again! Never breathe again! Why, +that is death!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ruth, it is death," answered the young man, +folding the dressing-gown over the body, reverently, as +if it had been the vestment of some old Roman.</p> + +<p>"Then you and I have killed him," said the girl, in a +hoarse whisper. "You and I!"</p> + +<p>The young man made no answer, but kindly and +gently attempted to remove the body that rested so +heavily upon her.</p> + +<p>"Not yet—oh, not yet! I cannot give him up! He +might live long enough to pardon me."</p> + +<p>"If good men live hereafter, and you believe that, +Ruth, he knows that concealment is all the sin you have +committed against him," answered Hurst, gently.</p> + +<p>"But that has brought my poor—poor father here," +said the girl, looking piteously up into the young man's +face.</p> + +<p>"Ruth—Ruth, do not reproach me! God knows I +blame myself bitterly enough," he said, at last.</p> + +<p>"Blame yourself? Oh, no! I alone am to blame. It<span class="pagenum">[335]</span> +was I that tempted you. I that listened—that loved, +and made you love me. Father—father! Oh, hear +this! Stay with us! Oh, stay in your old home long +enough for that! He is not in fault. He never said a +word or gave me a look that was not noble. He never +meant to harm me, or—or offend you. I—I alone am +the guilty one."</p> + +<p>"Ruth, Ruth! you are breaking my heart!" whispered +Hurst.</p> + +<p>"Breaking your heart! Oh, I have done enough of +that, miserable wretch that I am!" answered the girl, +speaking more and more faintly. "If I could only make +him understand how sorry I am; but oh, Walton! I think +he is growing cold. I have tried to warm him here in +my arms, but his cheek lies chilly against mine, and my—my +heart is cold as—as his."</p> + +<p>The head drooped on her bosom; her arms slackened +their hold, and fell away from the form they had embraced, +and she settled down by her father, lifeless, for +the time, as he was—for William Jessup was dead. A +great shock had cast him down with his face in the dust. +Blasted, as it were, by a sudden conviction of his +daughter's shame, he had gone into eternity as if struck +by a flash of lightning.<span class="pagenum">[336]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LIV" id="CHAPTER_LIV"></a>CHAPTER LIV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE GARDENER'S FUNERAL.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>A FUNERAL</b> moved slowly from the gardener's +house. Out through the porch, under the clustering +vines he had planted, William Jessup was carried by +his own neighbors, with more than usual solemnity. +His death had been fearfully sudden, and preceding circumstances +surrounded it with weird interest. That which +had been considered a mysterious assault, which no one +cared to investigate too closely, now took the proportions +of a murder, and many a sun-browned brow was heavy +with doubt and dread as his friends stood ready to carry +the good man out of the home his conduct had honored, +and his hands had beautified.</p> + +<p>Many persons out of his own sphere of life were gathered +in the little cottage, seeking to console the poor girl, +who was left alone in it, and to show fitting respect to +the dead. Among these were Sir Noel and his household. +Lady Rose came, subdued and saddened with womanly +pity. Mrs. Mason, full of grief and motherly anxiety, +took charge within doors, pausing in her endeavors every +few moments to comfort Ruth, whose sorrow carried her +to the very brink of despair.</p> + +<p>Many people came from the village, where Jessup had +been very popular, and among them old Storms, who, +with his son, kept aloof, looking darkly on the crowd +that passed into the dwelling.</p> + +<p>No one seemed to remark that the young heir of +"Norston's Rest" was absent; for it was known that he +had taxed his strength too far, and was now paying the<span class="pagenum">[337]</span> +penalty of over exertion by a relapse which threatened to +prostrate him altogether.</p> + +<p>In the throng of villagers that came in groups through +the park was the landlady of the public house, and with +her Judith Hart, who was too insignificant a person for +criticism, or the eager excitement of her manner might +have arrested attention. But safe in her low estate, the +girl moved about in the crowd, until the house was filled, +and half the little concourse of friends stood reverently +on the outside waiting for the coffin to be brought forth. +Then she drew close to young Storms, who stood apart +from his father, and whispered, +"You beckoned me—what for?"</p> + +<p>Storms answered her in a cautious whisper. Nodding +her head, the girl replied:</p> + +<p>"But after that, will you come to the public, or shall +I—"</p> + +<p>"To the Lake House, after the funeral," was the impatient +rejoinder.</p> + +<p>"I will be there, never fear."</p> + +<p>With these words Judith glided off through the crowd, +and passing around the house, concealed herself in the +thickets of blooming plants in which the garden terminated.</p> + +<p>From this concealment she watched the funeral train +file out from the porch and wind its way down the great +chestnut avenue on its course to the churchyard. She +saw Ruth, the last of that little household, following +the coffin with bowed head, and footsteps that faltered in +her short walk between the porch and the gate. Wicked +as the girl was, a throb of compassion stirred her heart +for the young creature whom she had so hated in her +jealous wrath, but could pity in such deep affliction.<span class="pagenum">[338]</span></p> + +<p>Slowly and solemnly the funeral procession swept from +the house, and passed, like a black cloud, down the +avenue. The park became silent. The cottage was still +as death, for every living thing had passed from it when +the body of its master was carried forth. Then holding +her breath, and treading softly, as if her sacrilegious foot +were coming too near an altar, Judith Hart stole into the +house. The door was latched, not locked. She felt sure +of that, for, in deep grief, who takes heed of such things? +A single touch of her finger, and she would be mistress +of that little home for an hour at least. Still her heart +quaked and her step faltered. It seemed as if she were +on the threshold of a great crime, but had no power to +retreat.</p> + +<p>She was in the porch; her hand was stretched out, +feeling for the latch, when something dragged at her arm. +A sharp cry broke from her; then, turning to face her +enemy, she found only the branch of a climbing rose +that had broken loose from the kindred vines, whose +thorns clung to her sleeve.</p> + +<p>"What a fool I am!" thought the girl, tearing the +thorny branch away from her arm. "What would he +think of me? There!"</p> + +<p>The door was open. She glided in, and shut it in +haste, drawing a bolt inside.</p> + +<p>"Bah! how musty the air is! With the shutters +closed, the room seems like a grave. So much the better! +No one can look through."</p> + +<p>The little sitting-room was neatly arranged. Nothing +but the chairs was out of place. Judith could see that, +through all the gloom.</p> + +<p>"Not here," she thought. "Nothing that he wants +can be here. Her room first: that is the place to search."<span class="pagenum">[339]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LV" id="CHAPTER_LV"></a>CHAPTER LV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">SEARCHING A HOUSE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>UP</b> the crooked staircase the girl turned and shut +herself into a little chamber, opposite that in +which Jessup had suffered his days of pain—a dainty +chamber, in which the windows and bed were draped +like a summer cloud, and on a toilet, white as virgin +snow, a small mirror was clouded in like ice. Even +the coarse nature of Judith Hart was struck by the +pure stillness of the place she had come to desecrate, +and she stood just within the threshold, as if terrified +by her own audacity. "If he were here, I wonder if +he would dare touch a thing?" she thought, going +back to her purpose. "I wish he had done it himself; +I don't like it."</p> + +<p>She did not like it; being a woman, how could she? +But the power of that bad man was strong upon her, and +directly the humane thrill left her bosom. She was his +slave again.</p> + +<p>"Something may be here," she said, sweeping aside +the delicate muslin of the toilet with her rude hands. +"Ladies keep their choice finery and love-letters in such +places, I know; and she puts on more airs than any lady +of the land. Ah, nothing but slippers and boots that a +child might wear, fit for Lady Rose herself, with their +high heels and finikin stitching. Such things for a gardener's +daughter! Dear me, what is the use of a toilet +if one cannot load it with pincushions, and things to hold +ear-rings, and brooches, and such like! Nothing but boots—such +boots, too—under the curtains, and on the top a +prayer-book, bound in velvet. Well, this is something."<span class="pagenum">[340]</span></p> + +<p>A small chair stood by the toilet, in which Judith +seated herself, while she turned over the leaves of the +book, and, pausing at the first page, read, +"Ruth Jessup, from her godmother."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's old Mason. Not much that he wants +here. No wonder the lass is so puffed up. Velvet books, +and a room like this! Well, well, I never had a godmother, +and sleep in a garret, under the roof. That's +the difference. But we shall see. Only let me find +something that pleases him here, and this room is nothing +to the one he will give me. Thin muslin. Poh! I +will have nothing less than silks and satins, like a born +lady. That much I'm bent on."</p> + +<p>Flinging down the prayer-book, without further examination, +Judith proceeded to search the apartment +thoroughly. She examined all the dainty muslins and +bits of lace, the ribbons and humbler trifles contained in +the old-fashioned bureau. She even thrust her hand +under the snowy pillows of the bed, but found nothing +save the pretty, lady-like trifles that awoke some of the +old, bitter envy as she handled them.</p> + +<p>"Now for the old man's room. Something is safe to +turn up there," she thought, conquering a superstitious +feeling that had kept her from this room till the last. +"It's an awful thing to ask of one. I wonder how he +would feel prowling through a dead man's chamber like +a thief, which I shall be if I find papers, and taking +them amounts to that; but he would give me no peace +till I promised to come."</p> + +<p>The room from which Jessup had been carried out +was in chilling order. A fine linen sheet lay on the bed, +turned back in a large wave as it had been removed from +the body when it was placed in the coffin. A hot-house<span class="pagenum">[341]</span> +plant stood on the window-sill, perishing for want of +water. The stand upon which Ruth's desk was placed +had been set away in a corner, and to this Judith went +at once. She found nothing, however, save a few scraps +of paper, containing some date, or a verse of poetry that +seemed copied from memory; two or three sheets of notepaper +had a word or two written on them, as if an impulse +to write had seized upon the owner, but was given +up with the first words, which were invariably, "My +dear—" The next word seemed hard to guess at, for it +never found its way to paper; so Judith discovered nothing +in her pillage of Ruth's desk, and the failure made +her angry.</p> + +<p>"He'll never believe I looked thoroughly, though +what I am to find, goodness only knows. Every written +paper that I lay my hands on must be brought to him. +That is what he said, and what I am to do. But written +papers ain't to be expected in a house like this, I should +say. How am I to get what isn't here, that's the question? +Anyway, I'll make a good search. Not much +chance here, but there's no harm in looking."</p> + +<p>Judith flung the closet-door open, and peered in, still +muttering to herself, +"Nothing but clothes. Jessup's fustian-coat. Poor +old fellow! He'll never wear it again. His Sunday-suit, +too, just as he left it hanging. No shelf, no—Stay, +here is something on the floor. Who knows what +may be under it?"</p> + +<p>Judith stooped down, and drew a long garment of +gray flannel from the closet, where it seemed to have +been cast down in haste. It was Jessup's dressing-gown, +which had been taken from him after death.</p> + +<p>"Nothing but the poor old fellow's clothes," she<span class="pagenum">[342]</span> +thought, growing pale and chilly, from some remembrance +that possessed her at the sight of those empty garments. +"I will throw the old dressing-gown back, and give it +up. The sight of them makes me sick. Well, I've +searched and searched. What more can he want of me?"</p> + +<p>Judith Hart gathered up the dressing-gown in her +hands, and was about to replace it, when a folded paper +dropped to her feet. She snatched the paper, thrust the +dressing-gown back to the closet, and turned to a window, +unfolding her prize as she went.</p> + +<p>"His writing. The same great hooked letters, the +same hard work in writing! 'To Walton Hurst.' It +might be the same, only there is more of it, and the lines +ain't quite so scraggly." Even as she talked, Judith +held Jessup's letter to an opening in the shutter, and +read it eagerly.</p> + +<p>More than once Judith read the letter that Jessup had +written with his last dying strength, at first with surprise +deepening into terror as she went on. Then she +fell into solemn thoughtfulness. Being a creature of vivid +imagination, she could not stand in that death-chamber +with a writing purloined from the murdered man's garments +in her hand without a shiver of dread running +through all her frame.</p> + +<p>In truth, she was fearfully disturbed, and the very +blood turned cold as it left her face when she thrust the +paper into her bosom, shrinking from it with shudderings +all the time.</p> + +<p>After this, she remained some minutes by the window, +lost in thoughts that revealed themselves plainer than +language as they passed over her mobile features.</p> + +<p>Then a sound, far down in the park, startled her and +she left the house absorbed and saddened. It was well<span class="pagenum">[343]</span> +for her chances of escape that the girl left Jessup's cottage +at once; for she was hardly out of sight when a +group of neighbors from the funeral cortege came back, +haunting those rooms with sorrowful countenances, and +striving with great kindness to win the lone girl, thus +suddenly made an orphan, from the terrible grief into +which she had fallen.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LVI" id="CHAPTER_LVI"></a>CHAPTER LVI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">A MOTHER'S HOPEFULNESS.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>AMONG</b> the persons who had come to the gardener's +funeral old Mrs. Storms was most conspicuous, +not only from her high position among the tenants, but +because of the relations her son was supposed to hold +with the daughter, who was beloved by them all. After +the funeral several neighbors offered to stay with Ruth, +but in her wild wretchedness she refused them all—kindly, +sweetly, as it was in her nature to do, but with a positiveness +that admitted of no further urgency.</p> + +<p>Even Mrs. Mason, who now considered herself as +something more than friend or godmother, felt constrained +to go away and leave the poor girl to the isolation +she pleaded for; though with some little resentment +at the bottom of her kind heart.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Storms was not to be dissuaded from all kindliness +so easily. When the neighbors were gone she came +into the room where Ruth was sitting, and in a gentle, +motherly fashion, sat down by the mourner and strove +to comfort her.<span class="pagenum">[344]</span></p> + +<p>"Come," she said, taking the girl's cold hands in +the clasp of her hard-working fingers, "come, lass, +and stay with me. This house is so full of gloom that +you will pine to death in it. Our home is large, and +bright with sunshine. You shall have the lady's +chamber, which will be all your own some blessed day, +God willing."</p> + +<p>The good woman caught her breath here, for something +like an electric shock flashed through the hands +she clasped, and Ruth made a struggle to free herself +from the thraldom of kindness that was torturing her.</p> + +<p>"I know—I know this isn't the time to speak of weddings; +but you have no mother, and I never had a girl +in the house; so if you would only come now, and be +company for me—only company for the old woman—it +would be better and happier for us all."</p> + +<p>Ruth did not answer this loving appeal. She only +closed her eyes and shuddered faintly. Great emotions +had exhausted themselves with her.</p> + +<p>"Be sure, Ruth, it is not my son alone who loves you. +From the first I have always looked upon you as my +own lass, and a prettier no mother need want, or a better, +either."</p> + +<p>"No, no, you must not say that," Ruth cried out; for +the anguish of these praises was more than she could +bear. "He thought me pretty—he thought me good, +and how have I repaid him? Oh, my father, my poor +dead father, it was love for me that killed him!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Storms was silent a while. She understood this +piteous outcry as a burst of natural grief, and gave it no +deeper significance; but she felt the task of comforting +the poor girl more difficult than she had imagined. +What could she say that would not call forth some new<span class="pagenum">[345]</span> +cause of agitation? The subject which she had fondly +trusted in seemed to give nothing but pain. Yet no +hint had ever reached the woman that the attachment +of her son was not more than returned by this orphaned +girl. Perhaps Ruth was wounded that Richard +was not there in place of his mother. With this possibility +in her mind the matron renewed her kindly +entreaties.</p> + +<p>"You must not think it strange, dear, that Richard +left the funeral without coming back to the cottage. It +was that his heart was full of the great trouble, and he +would not darken the cottage with more than you could +bear. The father, too—for you must think of him as +that, dear child—has well nigh broke his heart over the +loss of his old friend. He's eager as can be to have a +daughter in the house, and will be good as gold to her."</p> + +<p>Ruth did not listen to the subject of these words, but +the kindly voice soothed her. This old housewife had +been a good friend to her ever since she could remember, +and was trying to comfort her now, as if anything approaching +comfort could ever reach her life, fearfully +burdened as it was. Still, there was soothing in the +voice. So the matron, meeting no opposition, went +on:</p> + +<p>"We must not talk of what is closest to our hearts +just yet; but the time will soon come when the old man +and I will flit to some smaller home, and you shall have +the house all for your two selves. It will be another +place then; for Richard can afford to live more daintily +than we ever cared for. The garden can be stocked with +flowers and made pretty as this at the cottage. The +barley-field can be seeded back to a lawn, and that parlor +with the oriel window, where the good man stores his<span class="pagenum">[346]</span> +fruit, can be made rarely grand with its pictured walls +and carved mantelpiece."</p> + +<p>Still Ruth did not listen; only a fantastic and vague +picture of some dream-like place was passing through +her mind, which the kind old neighbor was endeavoring +to make her understand. Now and then she felt this +hazy picture broken up by a jar of pain when Richard +Storms was mentioned; but even that hated name was so +softened by the loving, motherly voice that half its bitterness +was lost.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," said the matron, "when will you come? +I made everything ready this morning before we left, +hoping you would go back with us."</p> + +<p>Ruth opened her great sad eyes, and looked into the +motherly face bending over her.</p> + +<p>"You are kind," she said, "so kind, and you were his +dear friend. I know that well enough; but I cannot fix +my mind on anything—only this: your voice is sweet; +you are good, and wish me to do something that I cannot +think of yet. Let me rest; my eyes ache with +heaviness. I have no strength for anything. This is a +sad place, and I am sad like the rest; if you would leave +me now, in all kindness I ask it; perhaps the good God +might permit me to sleep. Since the night he died I +have been fearfully awake, sitting by him, you know. +Now—now I would like to be alone, quite alone. There +is something I wish to ask of God."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Storms yielded to this sad pleading, laid the +girl's hands into her lap, kissed her forehead and went +away, thinking, in her motherly innocence:</p> + +<p>"The child is worn out, dazed with her great sorrow. +I can do nothing with her; but Richard will be going to +the cottage, and she loves him. Ah, who could help it,<span class="pagenum">[347]</span> +now that he is so manly and has given up the ways that +we dreaded might turn to evil! She will listen to him, +then John and I will have a daughter."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LVII" id="CHAPTER_LVII"></a>CHAPTER LVII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">WAITING AT THE LAKE HOUSE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>DURING</b> the time that his mother was so kindly +persuading Ruth to accept a home with her, +Richard Storms was pacing the Lake House to and fro, +like a caged animal waiting for its feeder.</p> + +<p>The triumph of his revenge and his love seemed near at +hand now. Before Jessup's death his power was insufficient, +his influence feeble, for no one was in haste to take up a +wrong which the sufferer was the first to ignore. But +now the wound had done its work. A man had been +shot to death, and any subject of Her Majesty had the +right to call for a full investigation before a magistrate. +This investigation the young man had resolved to +demand.</p> + +<p>All that the man wanted now, to complete his power +of ruin, was the letter which Judith Hart had found +drifting through the shrubbery on the day she had visited +"Norston's Rest," at his own suggestion, in order to +get a foothold in the establishment and become his willing +or unconscious spy, as he might be compelled to use her.</p> + +<p>That letter was so important to him now that he was +ready to do anything, promise anything, in order to get +possession of it, and prowling around and around the old +Lake House, he racked his brain for some power of<span class="pagenum">[348]</span> +inducement by which he could win it from her, and perhaps +other proofs that she might find in the cottage.</p> + +<p>Thus urged to the verge of desperation, by a thirst +for revenge on young Hurst, and the craving love which +Ruth Jessup had rejected with so much scorn, the young +man awaited with burning impatience the coming of his +dupe; for up to this time he had failed in making her +entirely an accomplice.</p> + +<p>Judith came down to the lake in great excitement. +Storms saw that, as she turned from the path and waded +through the long, thick rushes on the shore, without +seeming to heed them.</p> + +<p>"You have found something! I see that in your face," +he said, as the girl darkened the Lake House door. +"Give it to me, for I never was so eager to be at work. +Why don't you speak? Why don't you tell me what +it is?"</p> + +<p>Judith pushed her way into the house and seated herself +on the bench, where she sat looking at him with an +expression in her eyes that seemed to forbode revolt.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," he said, sitting down by her, "tell me +what you have discovered. I hope it is something that +will clear the way to our wedding, for I am getting +impatient for it. Nothing but the want of that paper +has kept me back so long."</p> + +<p>The strange expression on Judith's face softened a little. +Some good was in the girl. The firm hold she had kept +on Jessup's dangerous letter had been maintained as much +from reluctance to bring ruin on an innocent man as for +her own security. On her way from the gardener's cottage, +she had taken a rapid survey of the situation, and +for the first time felt the courage of possessed power.</p> + +<p>"You are in terrible haste," she said, "as if the paper<span class="pagenum">[349]</span> +I have was not enough to win anything you want from +Sir Noel."</p> + +<p>"But you will not trust me with it. You do not love +me well enough for that."</p> + +<p>"I loved you well enough to give up my home, my +poor old father, my good name with the neighbors, and +become the meanest of servants, only to be near you," +answered the girl, with deep feeling; "and I love you +now, oh God, forgive me! better, better than my own +wicked soul, or you never would have seen me again."</p> + +<p>"Still you refuse to give me the one scrap of paper +that can bring us together," said Storms, reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"If I did give it up what would you do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Do with it! I will take it to Sir Noel, break down +his pride, threaten him with the exposure of his son's +crime, and wring the lease I want from him, with enough +money beside to keep my wife a lady."</p> + +<p>"But what if I take the paper to Sir Noel, and get +all these things for myself?"</p> + +<p>For an instant Storms was startled, but a single thought +restored his self-poise.</p> + +<p>"There is one thing Sir Noel could not give you."</p> + +<p>"What is that?"</p> + +<p>"A husband that loves the very ground you walk on."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if I could be sure that you loved me like that."</p> + +<p>"I do—I do; but how can I wed you without some +chance of a living? The old man wouldn't take us in +without the new lease, and without more land I can do +nothing."</p> + +<p>"Dick! Oh, tell me the truth now. Is that all the +use you mean to make of this paper?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all! I will swear to it if that will pacify you. +The lease, and money, down at the time; for a handsome<span class="pagenum">[350]</span> +wife must have something to dash her neighbors with. +That is all I want, and that the paper in your bosom +will bring me."</p> + +<p>Judith lifted a hand to her bosom, and kept it there, +still hesitating.</p> + +<p>"You do not mean to harm the young gentleman? +Oh, Richard, you could not be so bad as that."</p> + +<p>"Harm him! No! I only want to frighten Sir Noel +out of his land and money. If I once gave the paper to +a magistrate, it would be an end of that."</p> + +<p>"So it would," said Judith, thoughtfully. "Besides—besides—"</p> + +<p>"Come, come! Make up your mind, girl!"</p> + +<p>"Swear to me, that you will never show the paper to +any one but Sir Noel—never use it against the young +gentleman!"</p> + +<p>"Swear! I am ready! If there were a Bible here I +would do it now."</p> + +<p>"Never mind the Bible! With your hand here, and +your eyes looking into mine, swear to your promise."</p> + +<p>Storms gave a returning grasp to the hand which had +seized his, and his eyes were lifted for a moment to the +bold, black orbs that seemed searching him to the soul; +but they wavered in an instant, and returned her gaze +with furtive side-glances, while he repeated the oath in +language which was profane rather than solemn.</p> + +<p>After holding his hand for a minute, in dead silence, +Judith dropped it, and taking the old portemonnaie from +her bosom, gave up old Jessup's first letter, but without +a word of the other paper.</p> + +<p>"There! Remember, I have trusted you."</p> + +<p>Storms fairly snatched the paper from her hand, for +the cruel joy of the moment was too much for his caution.<span class="pagenum">[351]</span></p> + +<p>"Now," he said, with a laugh more repulsive than +curses, "I have them all in the dust."</p> + +<p>"But remember your oath," said Judith, uneasily, for +the fierce triumph in that face frightened even her.</p> + +<p>"I forget nothing!" was the bitter answer, "and will +bate nothing—not a jot, not a jot."</p> + +<p>Storms was half way to the door, as he said this, with +the paper grasped tightly in his hand.</p> + +<p>"But where are you going?" pleaded Judith, following +him. "Is there nothing more to say?"</p> + +<p>"Only this," answered Storms, struck by a shrewd +after-thought; "it is better that you leave the 'Two +Ravens' at once. It is not from the tap-room of an inn +that a gentleman must take his wife."</p> + +<p>Judith looked at him searchingly. There seemed to +be reason in his suggestion; still she doubted him.</p> + +<p>"Where would you have me go, Richard? Back to +the old home?"</p> + +<p>Storms reflected a moment before he answered.</p> + +<p>"It isn't a palace or a castle, like the one you mean to +get out of that paper," Judith said, impatient of his +silence, "but, poor as it was, you liked to come there, +and the old father would be glad and proud to be standing +by when we are wedded."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I dare say he would be that," answered Storms, +with an uneasy smile. "Well, as you wish it, the old +home is perhaps as safe a place as you could stay in."</p> + +<p>"But it will not be for long—you promise that?" +questioned the girl, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Not if Sir Noel comes down handsomely, but I must +not be bothered while this work is on hand. You will +give the landlady warning and go at once. Say nothing +of where you are going; or perhaps, as she is sure to ask<span class="pagenum">[352]</span> +questions, it is better to speak of London. You can even +take the train that way for a short distance, and turn +back to the station nearest your home. The walk will +not be much."</p> + +<p>"What, from the station?" said Judith, laughing. +"Why the old home is a good twenty miles from here, +and I walked it all the way, having no money."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that was when you were fired with jealousy, and +I'll be bound you did not feel the walk. But we must +have no more of that. There is money enough to take +you home, and something over."</p> + +<p>"No, no. I shall have my wages," said the girl, +drawing back.</p> + +<p>In her mad love she could leave her home and follow +this man on foot without shame, but something of +honest pride withheld her from receiving his money.</p> + +<p>"What nonsense!" exclaimed Storms, wondering at +the color that came into her face, while he dropped the +gold back into his pocket. "But you must give notice +at once. We have no time to lose. Now I think of it, +how much did the landlady know about you at the 'Two +Ravens?'"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. She thinks I came down from London."</p> + +<p>"Not the name? I cannot remember ever hearing it."</p> + +<p>"No one but the mistress knew it," said Judith. "My +father was of the better sort till misfortune came on him, +and I wouldn't drag his name down in that place. I am +only known as Judith among the customers."</p> + +<p>"That is fortunate, and makes your going up to +London the thing to say. You can be home to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"But you will not be long away? You will come?"</p> + +<p>"Surely; three days from this at our old place in the<span class="pagenum">[353]</span> +orchard. I do not care to see your father at first. It +will be time enough when we can tell him everything. +There, now, I must go. You will forget nothing?"</p> + +<p>Storms held out his hand. Judith took it reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"Are you leaving me now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am going yonder," he answered, waving his +hand toward "Norston's Rest."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LVIII" id="CHAPTER_LVIII"></a>CHAPTER LVIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">SIR NOEL'S VISITOR.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>IT</b> is not the old man, Sir Noel, but young Storms, +who says he must and will see you!"</p> + +<p>"Did the hind send that message to me?"</p> + +<p>"No, Sir Noel, he only said it to me, and impudent +enough in him to do it. His message to you was soft as +silk. He had important business which you would like +to hear of, and could not wait. That was what made +him bold to ask," answered the servant, who had been +greatly disturbed by the manner of young Storms, who +was no favorite at "The Rest."</p> + +<p>"You can let him come in," said Sir Noel, with +strange hesitancy; for over him came one of those chilly +presentiments that delicately sensitive persons alone can +feel, when some evil thing threatens them. "Let the +young man come in."</p> + +<p>The servant went out of the library, and Sir Noel +leaned back in his chair, subdued by this premonition of +evil, but striving to reason against it.</p> + +<p>"He has come about the lease, no doubt," he argued.<span class="pagenum">[354]</span> +"I wish the question was settled. After all, its consequence +is disproportionate to the annoyance. I would +rather sign it blindly than have that young man ten +minutes in the room with me."</p> + +<p>It was a strange sensation, but the baronet absolutely +felt a thrill of dread pass through him as the light footsteps +of Richard Storms approached the library, and +when he came softly through the door, closing it after +him, a slow pallor crept over his face, and he shrunk +back with inward repulsion.</p> + +<p>Storms, too, was pale, for it required something more +than brute courage to break the wicked business he was +on to a man so gentle and so proud as Sir Noel Hurst. +With all his audacity he began to cringe under the grave, +quiet glance of inquiry bent upon him.</p> + +<p>"I have come, Sir Noel—that is, I am wanting to see +you about a little business of my own."</p> + +<p>"I understand," answered the baronet. "Your father +wishes a new lease to be made out, and some additional +land for yourself. I think that was the proposition."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir Noel, only the old man was backward in +saying all that he wanted, and so I came to finish the +matter up, knowing more than he does, and feeling sure +that your honor would want to oblige me."</p> + +<p>"I am always ready to oblige any good tenant," answered +Sir Noel, smiling gravely at what he considered +the young man's conceit; "but think that wish should +apply to your father rather than yourself, as he is in +reality the tenant; but if you are acting for him, it +amounts to the same thing."</p> + +<p>"No, Sir Noel, it isn't the same thing at all. I came +here on my own business, with which my father has +nothing to do. His lease is safe enough, being promised;<span class="pagenum">[355]</span> +but I want the uplands, with a patch of good shooting-ground, +which no man living will have the right to carry +a gun over without my leave."</p> + +<p>"Anything else?" questioned Sir Noel, with quiet +irony, smiling in spite of himself.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir Noel, there is something else," rejoined the +young man, kindling into his natural audacity. "I +want a house built on the place. No thatched cottage or +low-roofed farm-house, but the kind of house a gentleman +should live in, who shoots over his own land, for +which he is expected to pay neither rent nor tithes."</p> + +<p>"That is, you wish me to give you a handsome property +on which you can live like a gentleman? Do I understand +your very modest request aright?"</p> + +<p>"Not all of it. I haven't done yet."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Pray, go on."</p> + +<p>"There isn't land enough out of lease to keep a gentleman, +whose wife will have all the taste of a lady, +being educated as the chief friend and associate of Sir +Noel Hurst's ward. So I make it a condition that some +fair income in money should be secured on the property."</p> + +<p>"A condition! You—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir Noel, it has come to that. I make conditions, +and you grant them."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel's derisive smile deepened into a gentle laugh.</p> + +<p>"Young man, are you mad? Nothing short of that +can excuse this bombast," he said at last, reaching out his +hand to ring the bell.</p> + +<p>"Don't ring!" exclaimed Storms, sharply. "You are +welcome to the laugh, but don't ring. Our business must +be done without witnesses, for your own sake."</p> + +<p>"For my own sake? What insolence is this?"</p> + +<p>"Well, if that does not suit, I will say for the sake of +your son!"<span class="pagenum">[356]</span></p> + +<p>The blow was struck. Sir Noel's face blanched to the +lips; but his eyes kindled and his form was drawn up +haughtily.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, what have you to say of my son?"</p> + +<p>"This much, Sir Noel. He has been poaching on my +grounds, which I don't think you will like better than I +do, letting alone the Lady Rose."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Silence, sir! Do not dare take that lady's name into +your lips."</p> + +<p>Storms stepped back, frightened by the hot anger he +had raised.</p> + +<p>"I—I did but speak of her, Sir Noel, because the +whole country round have thought that she was to be +the lady of 'Norston's Rest.'"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, who says that she will not?"</p> + +<p>"I say it! I, whose sweetheart and almost wedded +mate he has made a by-word, and I do believe means to +make his wife, rather than let the bargain settled between +William Jessup and my father come to anything."</p> + +<p>"What—what reason have you for thinking so?" +questioned the baronet, dismayed by this confirmation of +fears that had been a sore trouble to him.</p> + +<p>"What reason, Sir Noel? Ask him about his private +meetings with Ruth Jessup in the park—in her father's +house—by the lake—"</p> + +<p>"I shall not ask him. Such questions would insult +an honorable man."</p> + +<p>"An honorable man! Then ask him where he was +an hour before William Jessup was shot. Ask him why +the old man went out in search of him, and why a discharged +gun, bruised about the stock, was found under +that old cedar-tree. If your son refuses to answer, question<span class="pagenum">[357]</span> +the girl herself, my betrothed wife. Ask her about +his coming to the cottage, while the old man was away. +These are not pleasant questions, I dare say; but they +will give you a reason why I am here, why the land I +want must be had, and why I am ready to pay for it by +marrying the only girl that stands in the way of your +ward, without asking too many questions. You would +not have the offer from many fellows, I can tell you."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel had slowly dropped into his chair, as this +coarse speech was forced upon him. His own fears, +hidden under the habitual reserve of a proud nature, +gave force to every word the young man uttered. He +was convinced that a revolting scandal, if not grave troubles, +might spring out of the secret this young man was +ready to sell and cover for the price he had stated. But +great as this fear was, such means of concealment seemed +impossible to his honorable nature. He could not force +himself into negotiations with the dastard, who seemed +to have no sense of honor or shame. The dead silence +maintained by the baronet made Storms restless. He +had retreated a little, when Sir Noel sat down; but drew +near the table again with cat-like stillness, and leaning +upon it with both hands, bent forward, and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Now I leave it to you, if the price I ask for taking +her, and keeping a close mouth, isn't dog-cheap?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dog-cheap," exclaimed the baronet, drawing his +chair back, while a flush of unmitigated disgust swept +across the pallor of his face. "But I do not deal with +dogs!"</p> + +<p>Storms started upright, with a snarl that seemed to +come from the animal to which he felt himself compared, +and for a moment his face partook of the resemblance.</p> + +<p>"Such animals have been dangerous before now!" he +said, with a hoarse threat in his voice.<span class="pagenum">[358]</span></p> + +<p>Sir Noel turned away from that vicious face, sick with +disgust.</p> + +<p>"If a harmless bark is not enough to start you into +taking care of yourself, take the bite. I did not mean +to give it yet, but you will have it. If you will not pay +my price for your son's honor, do it to save his life, for +it was he who killed William Jessup."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel arose from his seat, walked across the room +and rang the bell. When the servant answered it he +pointed toward the door, saying very quietly, "Show +this person out."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LIX" id="CHAPTER_LIX"></a>CHAPTER LIX.</h2> + +<p class="h3">PLEADING FOR DELAY.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>HAD</b> her sin killed that good old man? Was the +penalty of what seemed but an evasion, death—death +to the being she loved better than any other on +earth save one, that one suffering also from her fault? +Had she, in her fond selfishness, turned that pretty home-nest +into a tomb? Had God so punished her for this +one offence, that she must never lift her head to the sunlight +again?</p> + +<p>Sitting there alone in the midst of the shadows that +gathered around her with funereal solemnity, Ruth asked +herself this question, pressing her slender hands together, +and shivering with nervous cold as she looked around +on the dark objects in the little room, linked with such +cruel tenderness to the father she had lost, that they +seemed to reproach her on every side.</p> + +<p>"Ah, me! I cannot stay here all alone—all alone, and<span class="pagenum">[359]</span> +he gone! It is like sitting in a well. My feet are like +ice. My tears are turning to hoar-frost. But he is +colder than I am—happier, too, for he could die. One +swift trouble pierced him, and he fell; but they shoot +me through and through without killing. After all, I +am more unhappy than the dead. If he knew this, oh, +how my poor father would pity me! How he would +long to take me with him, knowing that I have done +wrong, but am not wicked! Oh, does he understand +this? Will the angels be merciful, and let him know?"</p> + +<p>The poor child was not weeping, but sat there in the +shadows of that home from which she had sent away her +best friends, terrified by the darkness, dumb and trodden +down under the force of her own reproaches, which beat +upon her heart as the after swell of a tempest tramples +the resistless shore. It seemed as if existence for her +must henceforth be a continued atonement, that could +avail nothing. In all the black horizon there was, for +this child, but one gleam of light, and that broke upon +her like a sin.</p> + +<p>Her husband! She had seen him for one dizzy moment; +his head had rested on her bosom. While panting +with weakness, and undue exertion, he had found +time to whisper how dear she was to him. Yes, yes! +there was one ray of hope for her yet. It had struck +her father down like a flash of lightning, and the very +thought of it blinded her soul. Still the light was there, +though she was afraid to look upon it.</p> + +<p>A noise at the gate, a step on the gravel, a wild bound +of her wounded heart, and then it fell back aching. +Hurst came in slowly; he was feeble yet, and excitement +had left him pale. Ruth arose, but did not go forward +to meet him. She dared not, but stood trembling from<span class="pagenum">[360]</span> +head to foot. He came forward with his arms extended.</p> + +<p>"Ruth! My poor girl; my dear, sweet wife!"</p> + +<p>She answered him with a great sob, and fell upon his +bosom, weeping passionately. His voice had lifted her +out of the solemnity of her despair. She was no longer +in a tomb.</p> + +<p>"Do not sob so, my poor darling. Am I not here?" +said the young man, pressing her closer and closer to his +bosom.</p> + +<p>She clung to him desperately, still convulsed with grief.</p> + +<p>"Be tranquil. Do compose yourself, my beloved."</p> + +<p>"I am so lonely," she said, "and I feel so terribly +wicked. Oh, Walton, we killed him. You and I. No, +no; not that. I did it. No one else could."</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush, darling! This is taking upon yourself +pain without cause. I come to say this, knowing it +would give you a little comfort. I questioned the doctor. +They sent for him again, for I was suffering from +the shock, and nearly broken down. Ill as I was, this +death preyed upon me worse than the fever, so I questioned +the doctor closely. I demanded that he should +make sure of the causes that led to your father's death. +He did make sure. While you were shut up in your +room, mourning and inconsolable, there was a medical +examination. Your father might have lived a few hours +longer but for the sudden shock of my presence here; +but he must have died from his wound. No power on +earth could have saved him. That was the general +opinion."</p> + +<p>Ruth hushed her sobs, and lifted her face, on which +the tears still trembled; for the first time since her +father's death a gleam of hope shone in her eyes.<span class="pagenum">[361]</span></p> + +<p>"Is this so, Walton?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed it is. I would have broken loose from them +all, and told you this before, but my presence seemed to +drive you wild."</p> + +<p>"It did—it did."</p> + +<p>"That terrible night you sent me from the house, with +such pitiful entreaties to be left alone. You preferred +to be with the dead rather than me."</p> + +<p>"That was when I thought we had killed him. That +was when I felt like a murderess. But it is over now. +I can breathe again. He is gone—my poor father is +gone, but I did not kill him—I did not kill him! Oh, +Walton, there is no sin in my kisses now; nothing but +tears."</p> + +<p>The poor young creature trembled under this shock +of new emotions. The great horror was gone. She +no longer clung to her husband with the feeling of a +criminal.</p> + +<p>"You have suffered, my poor child. We have both +suffered, because I was selfishly rash; more than that, a +coward."</p> + +<p>"No, no. Rash, but not a coward," broke in Ruth, +impetuously. "You shrunk from giving pain, that is +all."</p> + +<p>"But I shrink no longer. That which we have done +must be publicly known."</p> + +<p>"How? What are you saying?"</p> + +<p>"That you are my wife, my honored and beloved wife, +and as such Sir Noel, nay, the whole world, must know +you."</p> + +<p>Then Ruth remembered Richard Storms, and his dangerous +threats. She was enfeebled by long watching, +and terrified by the thought of new domestic tempests.<span class="pagenum">[362]</span></p> + +<p>"Not yet, oh, not yet. Walton, you terrify me."</p> + +<p>"But, my darling!—"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, I say. Let us rest a little. Let us stop +and draw breath before we breast another storm. I have +no strength for it."</p> + +<p>"But, Ruth, this is no home for you."</p> + +<p>"The dear home—the dear old home. I was afraid +of it. I shuddered in it only a little while ago; but now +it is no longer a prison, no longer a sepulchre. I cannot +bear to leave it."</p> + +<p>"Ruth, your home is up yonder. It should have been +so from the first, only I had not the courage to resist your +pleadings for delay; but now—"</p> + +<p>"But now you will wait because I so wish it. Oh, +Walton, I have not the courage to ask a place under your +father's roof. Give me a little time."</p> + +<p>"It is natural that you should shrink, being a woman," +said Hurst, kissing the earnest face lifted to his. "But +it shames me to have set you the example."</p> + +<p>Ruth answered this with pathetic entreaty, which she +strove to render playful.</p> + +<p>"Being two culprits. One brave, the other a poor +coward, you will have compassion, and let her hide away +yet a while."</p> + +<p>"No, Ruth! We—I have done wrong, but for the +hurt that struck me down, I should have told my father +long ago. I meant to do it the very next day. It was +his entreaties that I dreaded, not his wrath. I doubted +myself, more than his forgiveness. Had he been less +generous, less noble, I should not have cared to conceal +anything from him."</p> + +<p>"But having done so, let it rest a while, Walton; I am +so weary, so afraid."<span class="pagenum">[363]</span></p> + +<p>Ruth wound her arms around the young man's neck, +and enforced her entreaties with tearful caresses. She +was, indeed, completely broken down. He felt that it +would be cruelty to force her into new excitements now, +and gave way.</p> + +<p>"Be it as you wish," he said, gently. "Only remember +you have no protector here, and it is not for my +honor that the future lady of 'The Rest' should remain +long in any home but that of her husband."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, but this place has been so dear to me. +Remember, will you, that the little birds are never taken +from the nest all at once. They first flutter, then poise +themselves on the side, by-and-by hop off to a convenient +twig, flutter to a branch and back again. I am in the +nest, and afraid, as yet. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, darling, I understand."</p> + +<p>"And you will say nothing, as yet. Hush!" whispered +Ruth, looking wildly over his shoulder. "I hear +something."</p> + +<p>"It is nothing."</p> + +<p>"How foolish I am! Of course it is nothing. We +are quite alone; but every moment it seems as if I must +hear my father's step on the threshold, as I heard it that +night. It frightened me, then; now I could see him +without dread, because I think that he knows how it is."</p> + +<p>"Before many days we shall be able to see the whole +world without dread," answered Hurst, very tenderly. +"Till then, good-night."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Walton, good-night. You see that I can +smile, now. I have lost my father, but the bitterness of +sorrow is all gone. I had other troubles and some fears +that seemed important while he was alive; but now I +can hardly remember them. Great floods swallow up<span class="pagenum">[364]</span> +everything in their way. I have but just come out of +the storm where it seemed as if I was wrecked forever. +So I have no little troubles, now. Good-by. I shall +dream after this. Good-by."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LX" id="CHAPTER_LX"></a>CHAPTER LX.</h2> + +<p class="h3">LOVE AND HATE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>RUTH</b> did sleep long and profoundly. A stone had +been rolled from her heart, and the solemn rest +of subsiding grief fell upon her. Early in the morning +she arose and went down-stairs, feeling, for the first time +for days, a keen want of food. There was no fire in the +house: gray ashes on the hearth, a few blackened embers, +and nothing more. The house was very lonely to her +that bright morning, for the shutters had kept it in +gloomy twilight since the funeral, and she had not +heeded the semi-darkness, having so much of it in her +own soul.</p> + +<p>"He has forgiven me. He knows," she thought, +with a deep, deep sigh, "there is no reason why his +child should cower in darkness now, and he loved the +light."</p> + +<p>Ruth pushed open the shutters, and almost smiled as +a burst of sunshine came streaming in through the ivy, +embroidering the floor all around her with flecks of +silver.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she thought, "he loved the light, and it is so +beautiful now, I will have some breakfast. It seems +strange to be hungry."<span class="pagenum">[365]</span></p> + +<p>Ruth opened a cupboard, and took from it some fruit, +a biscuit, and a cup of milk. While she had been lost +in the darkness, some kind hand had placed these things +where she would be sure to find them when a craving +for food made itself felt through her grief. She became +conscious of this kindness, and her eyes filled with softer +tears than she had shed for many a day. After spreading +the little table with a white cloth, Ruth sat down +near the window, and began to drop the berries, which +some pitying child had brought her, into the milk. +Just as the old china bowl was full, and she had taken +up her spoon, a black shadow came against the window, +shutting out all the silvery rain of light, and looking up, +with a start, the girl saw Richard Storms leaning into +the room.</p> + +<p>Ruth dropped her spoon, both hands fell into her lap, +and there she sat stupefied, gazing at him as a fascinated +bird looks into the glittering eyes of a snake. There had +been no color in her face from the first, but a deeper +pallor spread over it, and her lips grew ashen.</p> + +<p>"I would have come before, as was the duty of a man +when his sweetheart was in trouble," said Storms; "but +the house seemed empty. This morning I saw a shutter +open, and came."</p> + +<p>"What did you come for? Why will you torment +me so?" said Ruth, hoarse with dread.</p> + +<p>"Torment! As if the sight of one's own true love +ever did that, especially when he comes to comfort one. +Mother, who is so anxious to have you for a daughter, +sent me."</p> + +<p>"You cannot comfort any one against her will," said +Ruth, striving to appear calm. "As for me, I only want +to be left alone!"<span class="pagenum">[366]</span></p> + +<p>"As if any man, with a heart in his bosom, could do +that; especially one so fond of you as I am," answered +Storms; "besides, I have a fear that you may not always +want to be alone. Last night, for instance!"</p> + +<p>Ruth had for a moment rested her hands on the table, +resolved to be brave; but they fell downward, and were +wrung together in a spasm of distress.</p> + +<p>The fiend at the casement saw this and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Nay, do not let me keep you from breakfast. I love +to see you eat. Many a day you and I have plucked +berries together. It won't be the first time I have seen +your pretty mouth red with them."</p> + +<p>Ruth pushed the bowl of fruited milk away from her.</p> + +<p>"I cannot eat," she said, desperately. "Your presence +kills hunger and everything else. Cannot you understand +how hateful it is to me? Leave that window! +You block out all the pure light of heaven!"</p> + +<p>"I will," answered Storms, with a bitter laugh. "You +shall have all the light you want," and, resting his hand +on the window-sill, he leaped into the room.</p> + +<p>"Audacious!" cried Ruth, starting up, while a flash +of anger shot across her face as scarlet sunset stains a +snow bank.</p> + +<p>"While girls are so tantalizingly coy, men will be +audacious," said Storms, attempting to draw her toward +him. "And they like us all the better for it. Shilly-shallying +won't do when a man is in earnest."</p> + +<p>"Leave me! Leave the house!" commanded Ruth, +drawing back from his approach.</p> + +<p>Any one who had seen the girl then would have +thought her a fit chatelaine for the stately "Old Rest," or +any other proud mansion of England.</p> + +<p>"Not yet. Not till I have told you where you stand,<span class="pagenum">[367]</span> +and what danger lies in a storm of rage like this. It +makes you beautiful enough for a queen, but you must +not dare to practise your grand airs on me. I won't +have them! Do you understand that, my lass? I won't +have them! Come here and kiss me. That is what I +mean to have."</p> + +<p>"Wretch!"</p> + +<p>"Go on, but don't forget that every word has got to +be paid for on your knees. I can afford to offer kisses +now, because you are pretty enough to make any man +stoop a bit. But wait a while, and you shall come a +begging for them, and then it'll be as I choose."</p> + +<p>Ruth did not speak, but a look of such disgustful +scorn came over her face that it abashed even his insolence. +He made an effort to laugh off the confusion +into which that look had thrown him.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXI" id="CHAPTER_LXI"></a>CHAPTER LXI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">HUNTED DOWN.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>YOU</b> don't believe me! You think to escape, or +put me down with these fine-lady airs. Perhaps +you mean to complain to the young man up yonder, +and set him to worrying me again. Try that—only try +it! I ask nothing better. Let him interfere with me +if he dares. Have you nothing to say?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing!" answered Ruth, with quiet dignity, for +contempt had conquered all the terror in her.</p> + +<p>"Nothing! Then I will make you speak, understand<span class="pagenum">[368]</span> +this. You cannot put me down. No one can do that. +Father and son, I am the master of them all!"</p> + +<p>"Go!" said Ruth, wearied with his bombastic threats, +for such she considered them. "Go!"</p> + +<p>"Go! Do I frighten you?"</p> + +<p>"You weary me—that is all."</p> + +<p>"Then you do not believe what I say?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"You think the young man up yonder everything +that is good."</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I think—But no matter. You will soon +learn more than you want to hear. This is enough. I +can tear the Hurst pride up by the roots. I can make +them hide their faces in the dust, and I will, if you +drive me to it."</p> + +<p>"I?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you! It all depends on you. That young +fellow's blood will be on your own head if I am brought +to strike him down!"</p> + +<p>"His blood on my head! His! Are you mad, or +only fiendish, Richard Storms?"</p> + +<p>"This is what I am, Ruth Jessup—the man who can +prove who killed your father. The man who can hang +your sweetheart on the highest gallows ever built in +England. That is what I am, and what I will do, if you +ever speak to him again."</p> + +<p>"You! You!"</p> + +<p>It was all the poor girl could say, this awful threat +came on her so suddenly.</p> + +<p>"You believe me. You would give the world not to +believe me, but you do. Well, instead of the world you +shall give me yourself. I want you enough to give up<span class="pagenum">[369]</span> +revenge for your sake. Isn't that love? I want you +because of your obstinacy, which I mean to break down, +day by day, till you are humble enough."</p> + +<p>Ruth smiled scornfully. She had been so often terrified +by such language that it had lost its force.</p> + +<p>"I do not believe you," she said. "Would not believe +an angel, if he dared to say so much."</p> + +<p>"Will you believe your father's own handwriting?"</p> + +<p>Storms took from an inner pocket of his vest a folded +letter. Ruth knew it in an instant. It was the letter +she had placed in her husband's hand that day when she +saw him for one moment asleep in his chamber at "The +Rest."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! You turn white without reading it! You +guess what it is. The handwriting is large enough to +read at a safe distance. Make it out for yourself."</p> + +<p>Ruth fastened her burning eyes on the paper, which +he unfolded and held between his two hands, so near that +she could make out the great crude letters; but it was +beyond her reach had she attempted to possess herself of +it, which he seemed to fear.</p> + +<p>"Does that mean anything? Is that a confession?"</p> + +<p>Ruth did not answer, but dropped into a chair, faint +and white, still gazing on the paper.</p> + +<p>"Do you want more proof? Well, I can give it you, +for I saw the thing done. Do you want the particulars?"</p> + +<p>"No! no! Spare me!" cried the poor girl, lifting +both hands.</p> + +<p>"Of course, I mean to spare you. One doesn't torment +his wife till he gets her!"</p> + +<p>"Spare him!" pleaded the poor girl. "Never mind +me, but spare him. He has never harmed you."<span class="pagenum">[370]</span></p> + +<p>"Never harmed me! Who was it that he hurled, +like a dog, from that very door? Whose sweetheart was +it that he stole? Never harmed me! Spare him! That +is for you to do. No one else on this earth can spare +him!"</p> + +<p>"But how?"</p> + +<p>The words trembled, coldly, from her white lips.</p> + +<p>"How? By marrying the man you were promised to."</p> + +<p>A faint moan was her only answer.</p> + +<p>"By carrying out your murdered father's bargain. +That is the only way. Shudder down, twist and wind +as you will, that is the only way."</p> + +<p>Ruth shook her head. She could not speak.</p> + +<p>"I have got some matter to settle with Sir Noel, for +you are only half my price. There must be land and +gold thrown in on his part, a wedding on yours, before I +promise to hold my tongue, or give up this paper. Love, +money, or vengeance. These are my terms. He takes it +hard—so do you, quaking like a wounded hare in its +form. The sight of it does me good. Gold, land, the +prettiest wife on this side of England, who shall give me +a taste of vengeance, too, before I have done with her. +All these things I mean to enjoy to the full."</p> + +<p>Still Ruth did not utter a word. The horror in her +position struck the power of speech from her.</p> + +<p>"I see. Nothing but love for this murderer could +make your face so white. Nothing but hate of me could +fill your eyes with such frightened loathing. But I mean +to change all that, before you have been my wife a +twelvemonth. Only remember this: you must never +see Walton Hurst again—never. I shall keep watch. +If you look at him, if you speak to him before we are +wedded, I will give him up to the law that hour. If he<span class="pagenum">[371]</span> +ever crosses my path after that, I shall know how to +make my wife suffer."</p> + +<p>Still Ruth did not speak.</p> + +<p>"You know my terms, now. The moment Sir Noel +signs the deeds I'm getting ready, he seals my lips. +When our marriage certificate is signed, I give up this +paper. Then there is nothing for us but love or hate. +I have a taste for both. Come, now, say which it +shall be."</p> + +<p>While he was speaking, Storms had drawn close to the +chair on which Ruth sat, still and passive. With the +last audacious words on his lips, he stooped down, pressed +them to hers, and started back, for they had met the +coldness of snow.</p> + +<p>"Fainting again? I will soon cure her of these +tricks," he muttered, looking down into the still, white +face he had desecrated with a kiss. "Well, she knows +what to depend on now, and can take her own time for +coming to. I only hope Sir Noel will be as easily +settled; but he fights hard. I half wish he would say no, +that I might pull him down to his knees. It would be +rare sport. Only I'd rather take revenge on the young +master. That comes with the wife, and the old baronet's +money thrown in."</p> + +<p>With these thoughts weaving in and out of his brain, +Storms left the house, for he had no hesitation in leaving +that poor girl to recover from her dead insensibility alone. +It was perhaps the only mercy he could have awarded +her.<span class="pagenum">[372]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXII" id="CHAPTER_LXII"></a>CHAPTER LXII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">STORMS AND LADY ROSE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>STORMS</b> returned home, triumphing in his success +over that helpless girl, and confident that Sir Noel +would accept his terms at last, haughtily as he had been +dismissed from the house. All the next day he remained +at home, expecting some message from the baronet, but +none came. On the second day anxiety overcame his +patience, and he set out for "The Rest," determined to +push his object to the utmost, and, instead of vague +insinuations, lay his whole proof before the baronet.</p> + +<p>With all his audacity and low cunning, this man—a +dastard at heart—was thinking how he might evade this +interview, and yet obtain its anticipated results, as he +came slowly through the wilderness. All at once he +stopped, and a sudden flash shot across his face.</p> + +<p>"The Lady Rose, the woman Sir Noel has chosen for +his son's wife, she has access to him always. Her entreaties +will touch his heart, and break down his pride. +There she is among the great standard roses. Proud +and dainty lady as she is, I will set her to work for me. +By heavens, she comes this way!"</p> + +<p>The young man was right. That young lady came +out from among her sister roses, and turned toward the +wilderness, in whose shadows Storms was lurking. She +wanted some tender young ferns to complete a bouquet +intended for the little sitting-room that Walton was sure +to visit during the morning.</p> + +<p>As Lady Rose was moving down the shaded path with +that slow, graceful motion which was but the inheritance<span class="pagenum">[373]</span> +of her birth, she seemed to be whispering something to +the flowers in her hand. Once she paused and kissed +them, smiling softly, as their perfume floated across her +face like an answering caress. She was stooping to rob +a delicate species of fern of its tenderest shoots, when +Storms flung his shadow across her path.</p> + +<p>The lady arose, with a faint start, and gazed at the +man quietly as one waits for an inferior to speak. With +all his audacity, the young man hesitated under that +look of gentle pride.</p> + +<p>"Did you wish to ask something?" she said, at length, +remarking his hesitation.</p> + +<p>The sound of her voice emboldened him, but he spoke +respectfully, taking off his hat.</p> + +<p>"No, Lady Rose, I want nothing. But I can tell you +that which it is perhaps best that you should know."</p> + +<p>"Is it of the wedding? Is it of Ruth you would +speak?"</p> + +<p>"Of her, and of others, nearer and dearer to you than, +she ever was, or can be, Lady Rose."</p> + +<p>The soft flush of color, that was natural to that lovely +face, deepened to a rich carnation, and then to scarlet.</p> + +<p>"I do not understand!"</p> + +<p>"I am wanting to speak of Walton Hurst, the heir of +'Norston's Rest.'"</p> + +<p>"And what of him? Nothing serious can have happened +since I saw him," said Lady Rose, at first with a +swift, anxious glance; then she smiled at her own fright; +for half an hour before she had seen Hurst walking upon +the terrace.</p> + +<p>"Lady Rose, have you seen Sir Noel this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Noel! Why, no. He breakfasted earlier than +the rest, or in his room."<span class="pagenum">[374]</span></p> + +<p>"That is it. He is in trouble, and would not let you +see it in his face."</p> + +<p>"In trouble! Sir Noel!"</p> + +<p>"He has heard bad news."</p> + +<p>"Bad news! How? Where did it come from?"</p> + +<p>"I took it to him, lady. It has been a burden on my +conscience too long. The murder of a man is no light +thing to bear."</p> + +<p>"The murder of a man!" repeated Lady Rose, horrified.</p> + +<p>"I speak of William Jessup, whom we buried yesterday, +and who was murdered in the park, one night, by +Walton Hurst." Storms spoke with slow impressiveness, +while Lady Rose stood before him with blanched +lips and widely distended eyes.</p> + +<p>"Murdered in the park by Walton Hurst! Man, are +you mad?"</p> + +<p>"Lady, I saw the shot fired. I saw the gun twisted +from the murderer's hands, and the stock hurled at his +head before the old man fell. He was found lying +across the path lifeless, the brain contused, while Jessup +lay shot through the lungs a little way off, where he +had dropped after that one spasm of strength."</p> + +<p>"You saw all this with your own eyes?"</p> + +<p>"I saw it all, but would never have spoken, had the +old man lived. Now that he is dead—"</p> + +<p>"You would have another life—his life!"</p> + +<p>"Do not tremble so, lady! Do not look upon me as +if a wild beast were creeping toward you. I want no +man's life—"</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"Though the young master up yonder has wronged +me."</p> + +<p>"Wronged you? Walton Hurst wronged you? Impossible!"<span class="pagenum">[375]</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, me! I was engaged to wed old Jessup's daughter. +It was a settled thing. She loved me!"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"But the young master stepped in!"</p> + +<p>"I do not believe it," cried the lady, with a disdainful +lift of the head, though all the color had faded from her +face. "No person on earth could make me believe it."</p> + +<p>Storms allowed this outburst to pass by him, quietly, +while he stood before the lady, hat in hand.</p> + +<p>Then he spoke:</p> + +<p>"Lady, it was this that caused the murder. The +young master was in the cottage, as he had been many a +time before that night, but this time Jessup was away in +London. I was going there myself; saw him and her +through the window, and turned back, not caring to go in, +while he was there, though I thought no great harm +of it—"</p> + +<p>"There was no harm. I will stake my word, my life, +my very soul; there was no harm in it," cried Lady +Rose. "If an honorable man lives, it is Walton Hurst."</p> + +<p>"It may be, lady. I do not dispute it. But perhaps +old Jessup thought otherwise. I do not know. There +must have been hard words when he came in and found +those two in company, for in a few minutes the young +gentleman came dashing through the porch with a gun +in his hand. He may have been out shooting and stopped +at the cottage on his way home. I cannot tell that; but +he came out with a gun in his hand; then Jessup followed, +muttering to himself, and overtook the young +master just as he got under the shadow of the great cedar +of Lebanon. Some hot words passed there. I could not +hear them distinctly, for they were muffled with rage; +but I came up just in time to see Walton Hurst level his<span class="pagenum">[376]</span> +gun and fire. Then Jessup leaped out from the shadows, +wrenched the gun from the hand that had fired it, and, +turning it like a club, knocked Hurst down with it. This +was done in the moonlight. I saw it all. Then Jessup +dropped the gun, staggered backward into the darkness +of the cedar, and fell. They were found so—one lying in +the blackness cast down by the cedar branches, the other +with his face to the sky, as he had been thrown across +the path where the moonlight shone."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, I remember—I remember," moaned Lady +Rose. "He looked so white and cold; we thought he +was dead."</p> + +<p>"She was there. She went to the young man first. I +marked that. Her father lay in the shadows bleeding to +death, but she went to the young man first."</p> + +<p>"She did. I remember it," flashed through the brain +of Lady Rose. But she said, bravely, "It was nothing. +He lay in the light, and she saw him first. It was +natural."</p> + +<p>"I thought so afterward. She was my sweetheart, +lady, and I was glad to believe it," answered Storms, +who had no wish to excite the lady's jealousy beyond a +certain point; "but after that, she grew cold to me. +How could I help thinking it was because his kindness +had turned her head a little?"</p> + +<p>"Kindness! Perhaps so. We have all been kind to +Ruth. It is well you charge my guardian's son with +nothing but kindness. Anything else would have been +dishonor, you know, and it would offend me if you +charged that upon him."</p> + +<p>"Lady, I charge him with nothing, save the murder +of William Jessup."</p> + +<p>"But that is impossible. You can make no one believe +it. I wonder you will insist on the wild story."<span class="pagenum">[377]</span></p> + +<p>It was true Lady Rose really could not take in this +idea of murder—it was too horrible for reality. She put +it aside as an incomprehensible dream.</p> + +<p>"I saw it," persisted Storms, staggered by her persistent +unbelief.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have dreamed such things, and they seemed +very real," answered the lady, with a slight wave of the +hand.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXIII" id="CHAPTER_LXIII"></a>CHAPTER LXIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE PRICE OF A LIFE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>LADY</b>, I have other proof. Read that. Perhaps +you have seen William Jessup's writing. Read +that."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose took the letter and read it. Now, indeed, +her cheek did blanch, and her blue eyes widened with +horror.</p> + +<p>"This is strange," she said, growing whiter and whiter. +"Strange, but impossible—quite impossible!"</p> + +<p>"Coupled with my evidence, it is enough to hang any +man in England," said Storms, reaching out his hand for +the paper, which she returned to him in a dazed sort of +dream.</p> + +<p>"What do you want, young man? How do you mean +to use this letter?"</p> + +<p>"I have told Sir Noel what I mean, Lady Rose. I +am a poor man, he is a rich one. I only asked a little +of his wealth in exchange for his son's life."</p> + +<p>"Well?"<span class="pagenum">[378]</span></p> + +<p>"He would not listen to me. He ordered me from the +house. He tried not to believe me, so tough is his pride. +It might have been disbelief; it might have been rage +that made him so white; but he looked like a marble +man, face, neck, and hands. That was after the first +hint. He gave me no chance to tell the whole, though I +had this letter in my pocket."</p> + +<p>"Then you gave him no proof?" questioned Lady +Rose, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Proof? He did not wait for that. No dog was ever +ordered from a door as I was. But he shall have the +letter; he shall hear all that I have told you. Then he +will come to terms."</p> + +<p>"He never will!" murmured Lady Rose. "Not even +to save his son's life!"</p> + +<p>This was said under the lady's breath.</p> + +<p>"And if he does not?" she questioned. "If he refuses +to pay your price?"</p> + +<p>"Then Sir Noel cannot expect me to be more merciful +to his son than he is."</p> + +<p>"What is it—tell me exactly—what is it you demand +for your silence, and that paper?"</p> + +<p>Storms took a folded sheet of foolscap from his pocket, +and handed it to Lady Rose, who made an attempt to +read it, but her hand shook so violently that the lines +mingled together, like seaweed on a wave.</p> + +<p>"I cannot read it; tell me."</p> + +<p>Storms took the paper which he had prepared for Sir +Noel, and read it aloud. His hand was firm enough; +the agitation that shook the frame of that brave, beautiful +girl, reassured him. He was certain of her influence +with Sir Noel.</p> + +<p>"Land, free hunting, the house of a gentleman. I<span class="pagenum">[379]</span> +wonder he asks so little. Does he know what a life like +that is worth to us?" she thought.</p> + +<p>"There is one thing more," said Storms. "Those +things I demand for my silence. The paper I only give +up when Ruth Jessup is my wife."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose seemed to waive the subject aside as an +after-consideration.</p> + +<p>"Land and house," she said, drawing a deep breath, +as if some idea had become a resolution in her mind. +"Tell me, must they be in this county?"</p> + +<p>"If Sir Noel had land in another part of England I +should like it better. One might set up for a gentleman +with more success among strangers," was the cool reply.</p> + +<p>"I can give you all these things in a part of England +where you have never been heard of," said the lady. +"Only remember this: there must be no more appeals to +Sir Noel. He must never see that paper. It must +never be mentioned again to any human being. That is +my condition."</p> + +<p>"But, lady, can you make this certain? Sir Noel is +your guardian."</p> + +<p>"Not as regards this property. Have no fear, I +promise it."</p> + +<p>"And Ruth—Ruth Jessup? Without her all this goes +for nothing."</p> + +<p>"Ah, if, as you say, she loves you, that is easy. To a +woman who loves, all things are possible."</p> + +<p>"She did love me once," muttered Storms, beginning +to lose heart.</p> + +<p>"Then she loves you yet. Ruth is an honest girl, +and with such change is impossible. To love once is to +love forever; knowing her, you ought to be sure of this. +Besides, it is understood that she is promised to you."<span class="pagenum">[380]</span></p> + +<p>"She is promised to me," answered Storms, with some +show of doubt, "and if it had not been—"</p> + +<p>The young man broke off. The blue eyes of Lady +Rose were fixed on him with such shrinking wistfulness +that he changed the form of his speech.</p> + +<p>"If it had not been for the hurt her father got, we +might have been wedded before now."</p> + +<p>A pang of conscience came over Lady Rose when she +thought of pretty Ruth Jessup as the wife of this man +who was even then trading on the life of a fellow-being. +But a course of reasoning, perhaps unconsciously selfish, +blinded her to the misery she might bring on that young +creature, should it chance that the union was distasteful +to her. She even made the property, with which the +bridegroom would be endowed, a reason for wishing the +marriage. "Ruth is such a sweet little lady," she reasoned, +"that the life of a man who worked on his own +grounds would be coarse and rude to her. In some sort +we are giving her the place of a gentlewoman. Besides, +she must love the man. Everything goes to prove that—their +walks in the park, his own word. Yes, I am +doing good to her. It is a benefaction, not a bribe."</p> + +<p>All these thoughts passed through the mind of Lady +Rose swiftly, and with a degree of confusion that baffled +her clear judgment. Having resolved to redeem the +good name of her guardian's son on any terms, she +sought to reconcile those terms with the fine sense of +honor that distinguished her above most women.</p> + +<p>"Remember," she said, with dignity, "I will give you +the property you demand, partly for the benefit of Ruth +Jessup, and partly because I would save my guardian +from annoyance. Not that I for one moment believe +the horrid thing you have told me. I know it to be an +impossibility."<span class="pagenum">[381]</span></p> + +<p>"The courts will think their own way about that," +answered Storms. "An honest man's oath, backed with +this letter, will be tough things to explain there."</p> + +<p>"It is because they are difficult to explain that I have +listened to you for a moment," said Lady Rose. "For +twice the reward you demand, I would not have a suspicion +thrown on my guardian's son. Of any more serious +evil I have no fear."</p> + +<p>"Well, my lady, take it your own way, believe what +you like. So long as I get the property, and the wife I +want, we won't quarrel about what they are given for. +Only both those things I am bound to have."</p> + +<p>"But I cannot force Ruth Jessup to marry any man," +said Lady Rose.</p> + +<p>"All the same. It is your business now to see that +she keeps to her old bargain. Or all we have agreed +upon goes for nothing."</p> + +<p>The man was getting more familiar, as this conversation +went on. The sensitive pride of the young lady +was aroused by his growing demands, and she dismissed +him, almost haughtily.</p> + +<p>"Go now," she said. "I will think of a safe method +by which this transfer can be made. In a day or two I +will see you again. Till then be silent, and prepare +yourself to deliver up that paper."</p> + +<p>"But Ruth Jessup. What of her?"</p> + +<p>"I will see Ruth. She has a kind heart. I will see +Ruth."</p> + +<p>"Then good-day, my lady. You shall see that I +know how to hold my tongue, and remember kindness +too! Good-day, my lady."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose watched the young man as he glided off +through the wilderness, with flashing eyes and rising<span class="pagenum">[382]</span> +color. Up to this time she had held her feelings under +firm control. Now terror, loathing, and haughty scorn +kindled up the soft beauty of her face into something +grandly strange.</p> + +<p>"Slanderer! Wretch! The lands I do not care for. +But that I should be compelled to urge pretty Ruth +Jessup on a creature like that. Can she love him? I +will go at once, or loathing of the task will keep me back +forever."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXIV" id="CHAPTER_LXIV"></a>CHAPTER LXIV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">JUDITH'S RETURN.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>THE</b> poor father, whom Judith Hart had so cruelly +abandoned, sat alone in the old house, patient in +his broken-heartedness and more poverty-stricken than +ever. He had no neighbors near enough to drop in +upon his solitude, and all wish for reading had left him, +with the thankless girl he had worshipped.</p> + +<p>When he came home and found himself alone in the +saddest of all sad hours, that in which a day passes into +eternity with the sun, his desolation was complete. It was +something, when the cow he had petted into loving tameness +would come to the garden wall, and look at him +with her soft intelligent eyes, as if she knew of his sorrow +and longed to share it with him. Sometimes he would +go out and talk to her as if she possessed human sensibility—gather +grass and wild flowers, and caress the +animal's neck as she licked them from his hands.</p> + +<p>He was sitting thus lonely at the window between<span class="pagenum">[383]</span> +twilight and dark, when the figure of a woman came +walking down the lane, that made the almost dead pulses +of his heart stir rapidly. It was so like Judith, the +free movement, the very poise of her head. The resemblance +almost made him cry out. But, no, he had been +mistaken before. The dusk was gathering. It must be +some neighboring woman come to chat a moment with +him. Some of the old friends were kind enough for +that now and then when Judith was at home.</p> + +<p>No, no—it was Judith. He could see her face now. +She was smiling, and waved one hand; in the other +she carried a bundle which did not trouble her with +its weight, she was so young and strong—Judith, his +daughter, come back again.</p> + +<p>The old man got up from the window and went into +the porch, holding out his arms.</p> + +<p>"Judith! Judith! Oh, my child! my child!" She +came up with breathless speed, flung her bundle down +on the porch, and clasped the old man in her arms.</p> + +<p>"So you have missed me, father? Take that and +that for loving me so."</p> + +<p>She kissed his face, and shook both his hands with +emphasis; then turned about, crossed the yard and patted +the cow on its forehead.</p> + +<p>"There, now, that I have got all the welcome there +is for me, let's go in and strike a light. How dark +you are!"</p> + +<p>Directly the girl had a match flaring and a candle +lighted.</p> + +<p>"There," she said, "I will bring another bowl and +we will have supper; there is porridge enough for two."</p> + +<p>There was enough for two, though one had the greatest +portion, for joy took away the old man's appetite. It<span class="pagenum">[384]</span> +was enough for him that he could sit there with a spoon +in his hand, gazing at her. There was not much conversation +during this meal. The timid old man asked +few questions, and Judith only said that she had been in +a servant's place away up the railroad, and had brought +home her wages, or most of them.</p> + +<p>The girl had every penny that she had earned in her +bosom, and gave it to the old man that night. She had +walked all the way from "Norston's Rest," that the little +sum might be worth giving. So the old man was happy +that night, and after Judith had carried her bundle, in +which was the red garment Storms had given her, up-stairs, +he was on his knees by the unmade bed, in his +little room, with a prayer of humble thanksgiving on his +lips, and tears streaming down his face like rain.</p> + +<p>The next day Judith took up her household work +with unusual energy. It was her only resource from the +excitement of hopes and fears that possessed her. The +love that had tempted her from home was absorbing as +ever; but doubts and fears strong as the love tormented +her continually. Even at the last moment she had hesitated +to leave the neighborhood of "Norston's Rest." +There had been something in Storms' manner that made +her distrust him.</p> + +<p>But she would wait patiently. That was her promise. +In three days he had pledged himself to see her. If he +failed, if he was mocking her, why, then—</p> + +<p>Judith turned away from the subject here. That +which might follow was more than she dared think of.</p> + +<p>I have said that the girl was not all evil—indeed what +human being is? She loved this man Storms, with all +the passion of an ardent, ill-regulated nature. Heedless, +selfish, nay, to a certain extent, wicked, she might be; +but deliberate cruelty of action was repulsive to her<span class="pagenum">[385]</span>—that +of speech had its origin in the jealousy which tormented +her more than any one else.</p> + +<p>Judith understood well enough that the paper she had +given to Storms might cause great trouble to Sir Noel +Hurst, but her ideas of the rights of property were very +crude, and she could see no reason why that should not +be used to win a portion of the baronet's great wealth, +for the benefit of her lover. "Why should one man be +so enormously rich without labor," she reasoned, "and +another win the bare necessities of life by incessant toil?" +Judith had gathered these ideas from her lover, and +dwelt upon them in extenuation of her fault, when she +joined him in a conspiracy to wring wealth from the +proud old man at "Norston's Rest."</p> + +<p>After her return home, the destitution of her father +gave a new impulse to this levelling idea. She began to +look on him as a victim to the injustice of society, and +persuaded herself that in the advancement of her lover's +projects she would lift him out of this miserable existence.</p> + +<p>It was with difficulty that Judith kept silent, on this +subject. She longed to cheer and astonish the old man +by the brilliancy of her projects, but Storms had forbidden +this, and she dared not disobey him.</p> + +<p>On the third day, this hoping and longing became +greatly intensified. It seemed to her as if each hour had +lengthened into a year. She was constantly examining +the face of that old brass clock, and reviling it in her +heart because the hands went round so slowly.</p> + +<p>When her father came in, his presence was more than +she could bear. Forced to energetic action by her own +unrest, she had prepared his supper early and after that +sent him down to the village, that he might not detect the +fever of her impatience.<span class="pagenum">[386]</span></p> + +<p>Twice she went down to the orchard wall and came +back, disappointed that no one was in sight; though +she knew that Storms would not be there until his approach +could be covered by the evening shadows.</p> + +<p>At last she sat down by a window that looked toward +the orchard, resolved to wait. Thus she watched the +sunset, while its crimson melted into purple, through +which the stars began to shine. A strange, keen light +was in her face, and her eyes had the glitter of diamonds +when the first star came out. Then, and not till then, +she lighted a lamp.</p> + +<p>All was still in the house. Far back in the room the +lamp was turned down, shedding a faint light, such as a +clouded moon might throw, around the table on which it +stood, but leaving those pleasant shadows we love in a +summer's night everywhere else. Storms would not enter +the orchard until he had seen that light. It was the old +signal that they both understood.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had this faint illumination brightened the +room, when Judith saw something flutter above the wall, +as if a great bird had settled there and was ready to fly +again. She leaped to her feet, snatched up a shawl that +had been laid across a chair in readiness, and hurried +through the back door, folding the drapery around her +as she went.<span class="pagenum">[387]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXV" id="CHAPTER_LXV"></a>CHAPTER LXV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">ON THE PRECIPICE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>RICHARD STORMS</b> was there, leaning against the +wall. He reached out his hand to help her over—an +attention that made the heart leap in her bosom.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Richard, I am so glad that you have come," she +exclaimed, clinging fondly to his arm.</p> + +<p>"Hush," he said, "wait till we get farther from the +house. The old man will hear us."</p> + +<p>"No, no. He is down in the village. I sent him +away."</p> + +<p>This was what Storms wished to learn, but in his subtle +craft he would not ask the question directly.</p> + +<p>"He knows nothing—you have not told him that I +might be here?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>"Not a word."</p> + +<p>"That is wise. He might be talking to the neighbors +and set them clamoring at you again. I shouldn't like +that, just as everything is coming right with us."</p> + +<p>"There's no danger of that; he speaks to no one—poor +old man. The neighbors know nothing about my leaving +home; he felt it too much for talking."</p> + +<p>"Of course, and you got back safely?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. How good of you to ask! But you have +something to tell me."</p> + +<p>"Let us walk farther on," said Storms, passing his arm +around the girl's waist.</p> + +<p>Thus persuasive in his speech and unusually affectionate +in manner, Storms led the girl down the orchard +path. Once under the old apple tree where their last<span class="pagenum">[388]</span> +stormy interview had taken place, he paused and leaned +against the trunk, while she stood before him, waiting for +the information he had brought with some impatience; +for, with all his strange gentleness, few words had been +spoken on the way.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, "have you brought no news—good +or bad? Have you seen Sir Noel?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"No! Why not? Afraid to go on, were you?"</p> + +<p>"Afraid? You, Judith, ought to know me better than +that. I found an easier way of getting what I want. +Women, after all, are safest to deal with. Instead of a +farm I shall have land in my own right."</p> + +<p>"You will! You are sure; and I gave it to you!"</p> + +<p>Storms made no reply to this exultant outburst, but +went on counting over the benefits he had secured with +tantalizing particularity.</p> + +<p>"In one week from now, I shall be a rich landholder, +with plenty of money in my pocket, and a house +that any gentleman in England might be proud to take +his lady into."</p> + +<p>Judith's eyes flashed triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"It was I who helped you to all this land, money, +the grand house we shall live in. Oh, who ever thought +that a bit of crumpled paper would do so much?"</p> + +<p>Storms shrugged his shoulders, and prepared to walk +onward.</p> + +<p>Judith saw this, and her temper, always ready to take +fire, kindled up.</p> + +<p>"You lift your shoulders—you keep silent when I +speak of the paper which brought all these grand things, +as if you did not mean to give me credit for giving it to +you."<span class="pagenum">[389]</span></p> + +<p>"What would the paper have been without a shrewd +man to use it? Besides, you found it in the bushes where +any other person might have picked it up."</p> + +<p>Judith felt a strange choking in her throat.</p> + +<p>"What does this mean, Richard Storms?"</p> + +<p>"Mean? why, nothing. Only it is getting stormy here. +When you lift your voice in that way, it might be heard +from the house. Walk on; you have nothing to flare up +about."</p> + +<p>There was something in the man's voice that would +have warned Judith, but for her own rising temper. +As it was, she walked toward the precipice, sometimes +keeping ahead, and looking back at him over her shoulder. +He certainly looked pale in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"Now, Richard, what is the meaning of this offish +talk? Is it that you want to get rid of your promise, +with all these twistings and turnings?"</p> + +<p>When Judith put this question, she had halted close +by the brink of the precipice and turned around, facing +the young man, who came up more slowly.</p> + +<p>Storms attempted to laugh, but he was too hoarse for +that.</p> + +<p>"I haven't said a word about being off; but, if I had, +all this temper wouldn't hold me back. What should +hinder me doing as I please? The paper was as much +mine as yours."</p> + +<p>"What should hinder you, Dick Storms? Don't ask +me that. I do not want to talk about the things I saw, +that night."</p> + +<p>Judith stood close to the precipice as she said this, +between the very edge and Storms, who strode forward +till his white sinister face was close to hers.</p> + +<p>"You saw what? No more hints, I am tired of them. +You saw what?"<span class="pagenum">[390]</span></p> + +<p>"I will not talk about it here. When I do speak, it +will be to Sir Noel Hurst," answered the girl, bravely.</p> + +<p>"Sir Noel Hurst will be very likely to believe you +against my oath, and the paper signed by Jessup himself."</p> + +<p>"The paper that I gave you, fool that I was!"</p> + +<p>"Exactly, if you could not trust me."</p> + +<p>"I did trust you—I did shield you. I gave you the +paper. I kept still as the grave about what I saw that +night."</p> + +<p>"Still as the grave—there is no stillness like that," +said the man, in a voice so hoarse and strange that Judith +instinctively attempted to draw sideway from her perilous +position.</p> + +<p>But Storms changed as she did, still with his face to +hers, pressing her toward the edge.</p> + +<p>"If I kept back another paper, it was because I meant +to give it you on our wedding day, and prove how much +a poor girl could do toward saving the man she loved +from—"</p> + +<p>"From what?" questioned Storms, throwing his arm +around the girl and drawing her back from the precipice, +as if he had for the first time seen her danger. "Of +what are you speaking, Judith?"</p> + +<p>"Of a paper I found in the dress that was taken off +William Jessup after he died, which makes the one I +gave you of no worth at all."</p> + +<p>"You have such a paper, and kept it back?" The +man absolutely threw a tone of tender reproach into a +voice that had been cold as ice and bitter as gall a +minute before. "Let me read it; the moonlight is strong +enough."</p> + +<p>"It is not with me. I have put it by in safe hiding, +meaning to burn it before your face and pay you for the +marriage lines with your life."<span class="pagenum">[391]</span></p> + +<p>Storms drew the girl farther away from the precipice, +for he feared to trust the instinct of destruction that had +brought him there, and would not all at once be subdued. +He felt that his own life was, for the time, bound +up in hers, and absolutely shuddered as he thought of the +fate from which a word had saved him and her.</p> + +<p>For a time they walked back to the orchard in silent +disturbance: she unconscious of the awful danger she +had run; he pondering new schemes in his mind.</p> + +<p>"Why will you always doubt me?" he said, at last.</p> + +<p>"Because you force me to doubt," she answered, almost +patiently, for the ebb-tide of her anger had set in.</p> + +<p>"No; it is your own bad temper, which always drives +me into teasing you. I have the license in my pocket, +and came to settle everything."</p> + +<p>"The license!"</p> + +<p>At this word Judith turned her face to the moonlight, +and Storms saw that his falsehood had done its work.</p> + +<p>"While you have been doubting me," he said, with a +look and tone of deep injury, "I have been upon my +knees almost, persuading the old people to give up this +Jessup girl, and take you in her place."</p> + +<p>"And they have? Oh, Richard!"</p> + +<p>"I came to set the day when you would come to the +farm and stop a bit with the old mother."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Judith, with tears in her eyes, "I cannot +remember when I had a mother."</p> + +<p>Storms lifted his hand impatiently. Even he shrunk +from using the name of his kind old mother as a snare +for the girl.</p> + +<p>"You will say nothing of this to your father, or of my +coming here at all. When we are wedded and ready to +start for the new home, it will be a grand surprise for +him."<span class="pagenum">[392]</span></p> + +<p>"Shall we—oh, Richard, shall we take him with us?" +cried Judith.</p> + +<p>"That may be as you wish. I will not object."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Richard, I would give up that horrible paper +now if I had it with me!"</p> + +<p>"No, let it rest until I can exchange it for the marriage +lines; then it will be as much for your interest as +mine that it should be made ashes of. But be sure and +have it about you then."</p> + +<p>"I will, I will. Only it is like putting a snake in my +bosom when I hide it there."</p> + +<p>"And that pretty dress. Leave nothing behind you. +On the second day from this I will be at the nearest +station. Meet me there, but mind that no one sees us +speaking to each other."</p> + +<p>"I will be careful."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, then."</p> + +<p>The girl looked at him wistfully, as if she expected +something more; but Storms only reached out his hand. +He was not quite a Judas, and did not kiss her.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXVI" id="CHAPTER_LXVI"></a>CHAPTER LXVI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">SIR NOEL AND RUTH.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>SIR NOEL HURST</b> had been left standing in his +library, white and stately, like a man turned into +marble. That one hideous word had struck him with +the force of a blow. In the suppressed rage of the moment +he had sent Storms from his presence, scarcely comprehending +the charge he had made or the price for<span class="pagenum">[393]</span> +secrecy that he demanded. Still, audacious and unbelievable +as the man's charge was, it aroused reflections in +the father's mind that had hardly taken form before. +For months and months he had been vaguely uneasy +about his son. With the keen perceptions of a man +of the world, he had, without spying upon Walton, +observed him anxiously. He knew that more of his time +was spent about the gardener's cottage than seemed consistent +with any interest he could have felt in William +Jessup. He saw that the young daughter, whom he +could with difficulty look upon as more than a child, +was, in fact, a wonderfully beautiful girl. Beyond all +this he perceived that, day by day, the young man drifted +from his home, that the society of Lady Rose was almost +abandoned, and that this fair young patrician drooped +under the change.</p> + +<p>On the night when the young man was found lying so +deathly and still across the forest-path, these observations +had deepened into grave anxiety. He became certain +that some more dangerous feeling than he had been +willing to believe must have drawn his son into the peril +of his life. The anguish in Ruth's face; the piteous +humility with which she shrunk from observation, +alarmed him; for the girl had been, from her very infancy, +a pet at the great house, and underneath all other +anxiety was a feeling of paternal interest in her.</p> + +<p>That some dispute had arisen, of which Ruth was the +object, he had never doubted, and that both men had been +injured in a rash contest seemed natural. All this was +hard enough for a proud, sensitive man to bear in +patience; but these apprehensions had been held in abeyance +during his son's illness by deeper anxiety for his +life, and now from sorrow over the death of a faithful<span class="pagenum">[394]</span> +old servant, to whom every member of the family was +attached.</p> + +<p>All these perplexities and suspicions had been fearfully +aroused by the charge and proposal of young +Storms. Not that the baronet gave anything but a +scornful dismissal of either from his mind, but his old +anxieties were kindled anew, and he resolved to break +at once the tie that had drawn his son so often to the +cottage, or, at least, make himself master of its nature. +Had young Hurst been out of danger from excitement, +perhaps Sir Noel would have broken the subject to him; +but he had carefully avoided it, fearing some evil effect +during his illness, and now was cautious to give no sign +of the uneasiness that possessed him. So, with the sting +of a rude insult urging him on, he went to Jessup's +cottage.</p> + +<p>Ruth was lying in the little parlor, weak and helpless +as a crushed flower, all her rich color gone, all the velvety +softness of her eyes clouded. A man's step on the +porch made her start, and listen. She had cause to dread +such steps, and they terrified her. A knock, measured +and gentle—what if it was her husband's? What if +Storms was on the watch? He must not come in. That +was to endanger more than his life. It was her hard +task to say this. Ruth started up, crept to the door, and +opened it, with trembling hands.</p> + +<p>"Sir Noel!"</p> + +<p>The name scarcely formed itself on her lips, when she +shrunk back from the baronet's stern countenance, wondering +what new sorrow was coming upon her.</p> + +<p>Sir Noel had always liked the girl, and her sad bereavement +awoke his compassion. Almost before she had +spoken he felt the cruelty of his errand. It was impossible<span class="pagenum">[395]</span> +to look into those eyes, and think ill of a creature +so helpless and so beautiful. But the very loveliness +that disarmed him had brought death to her own father, +and threatened disgrace to his son. The plans he had +formed for that son—the future advancement of his +house—all were in peril, unless she could be removed +from the young man's path. This must be done. Still +he would deal gently with her.</p> + +<p>Sir Noel had sought the cottage with a quickly-formed +resolution to urge on the marriage of its inmate with the +man who had exhibited some right to claim her; but as +he stood on the threshold, with that young girl trembling +before him, this thought took a form so hideous, that he +almost hated himself for having formed it.</p> + +<p>Ruth went into the little parlor, trembling with apprehension. +Sir Noel followed her. Here his heart +nearly failed him. He felt the cruelty of harassing her +with new troubles, when sorrow lay so heavily upon +her; but anxiety urged him on against his better nature.</p> + +<p>"Poor child!" he said, gently. "I see that you have +suffered; so young, too. It is hard!"</p> + +<p>Ruth lifted her eyes to his face, as if wondering that +any one—he, most of all—could pity her. Then she said, +with touching sadness, +"It is hard, and I am so tired."</p> + +<p>"I too have had trouble," said the baronet. "For +many days we feared that Walton—"</p> + +<p>"I know! I know! He came near dying, like my +father—the best father that ever lived."</p> + +<p>Ruth spoke low and nervously. The presence of +Walton's father filled her with apprehension. Yet she +longed to fall at his feet, and implore him to forgive her.</p> + +<p>"Ruth," said Sir Noel, seating the poor girl on the<span class="pagenum">[396]</span> +sofa, and taking both her hands in his, "Ruth, try and +think that it is your father who asks you: and answer +me from your soul. Does my son love you?"</p> + +<p>A flash of hot scarlet swept that desolate face. The +eyelids drooped over those startled eyes. Ruth tried to +draw her hands away.</p> + +<p>"Answer me, child."</p> + +<p>He spoke very gently, so gently that she could not +help answering.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, in a soft whisper. "He loves me."</p> + +<p>"And you?"</p> + +<p>Ruth lifted her pleading eyes to his—those great, +innocent eyes, and answered, humbly, +"How could I help it?"</p> + +<p>"How long is this since, Ruth?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. It seems to me always; but he +knows best."</p> + +<p>"But, my poor child, how do you expect this to end?"</p> + +<p>"It is ended! oh, it is ended! I wish you would tell +him so, Sir Noel. I must never, never see him again."</p> + +<p>Ruth threw both arms over the end of the sofa, and, +burying her face upon them, broke into a wild passion +of sobs.</p> + +<p>Sir Noel was touched by this helpless acquiescence. +He bent over her sadly enough.</p> + +<p>"No, Ruth, you never must see him again."</p> + +<p>"I know it—I know it!"</p> + +<p>"There is another who loves you," he said, shrinking +from the idea of giving that girl to the crafty ruffian +who had dared to threaten him. It seemed like an +insult to his son thus to dispose of the creature that son +had loved, and evidently respected; but he was not prepared +for the wild outburst of anguish that followed his<span class="pagenum">[397]</span> +words. Ruth sprang to her feet, her eyes widening, her +wet face contracted.</p> + +<p>"You will not—you must not ask that of me. I will +die first."</p> + +<p>"Be it so. I will not urge you," answered the baronet, +soothingly. "Only promise me never to see Walton +again!"</p> + +<p>"I must! I do! Oh, believe me! I never, never +must see him again!"</p> + +<p>"You must go away!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, if I could—if I only could!"</p> + +<p>"It must be, my poor child. Some place of refuge +shall be found."</p> + +<p>Ruth lifted her face with sudden interest.</p> + +<p>"I will see that you are cared for. Only this my son +must never know."</p> + +<p>"He must never know," repeated the poor girl. +"Only, if I should be dying, would there be danger +then? Only when I am dying?"</p> + +<p>"We will not think of that, Ruth."</p> + +<p>"No. I dare not. It tempts one so; but the good +God will not be so cruel as to let me live."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel was surprised at this broken-hearted submission. +He had come to the cottage prepared for +resistance, perhaps rebellion, but not for this. No doubt +of the girl's innocence, or of his son's honor, disturbed +him now. But this only made his task the more difficult. +She must be removed from the neighborhood. The +honor of his house—the future of his son demanded it.</p> + +<p>"I will go now, Ruth," he said, with great kindness; +"but, remember, you will never want a comfort or a +friend while I live. In a few days I will settle on some +safe and pleasant home for you."<span class="pagenum">[398]</span></p> + +<p>Ruth did not seem to hear him, though she was looking +steadily in his face; but when he dropped her hand, +she said, piteously, +"You will tell him—you will let him know that it +was for his sake?"</p> + +<p>"After you are gone, he shall know everything, except +where to find you."</p> + +<p>Ruth sunk back on her seat, bowed her face drearily, +and thus Sir Noel left her.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXVII" id="CHAPTER_LXVII"></a>CHAPTER LXVII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">SHOWING THE WAY.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>WHERE</b> could Ruth go? She had never been +from home more than once or twice in her life. +Her world was there lying about "The Rest"—her home +in that cottage, where she was born, and her mother had +died. She must leave it; of course, she must leave it, but +how? To what place would Sir Noel Hurst send her? +With that awful secret lying between her and Richard +Storms, would she dare to go? He would avenge her +absence on Hurst. She, no doubt, stood between him +and the thing she shuddered to think of. What could +she do?</p> + +<p>All night long the poor child lay asking herself these +questions. She had locked herself in with the darkness as +the dusk came on, fearing that her husband might come—dreading +to hear another step that filled her, soul and +body, with loathing. She did hear a light tread on the +turf, a gentle knock on the door, and fell to weeping on<span class="pagenum">[399]</span> +her pillow, with sobs that filled the whole desolate house. +After these exhausting tears she slept a little, and when +the daylight stole through the crevices of the shutters she +turned from it, and lay with her face to the wall, wondering +if she would live the day out.</p> + +<p>There was no fire in the cottage that day—no food +cooked or eaten. Ruth crept out from her room and lay +down on the little sofa, faint and miserably helpless. +The apathy of great suffering was upon her. She was +hemmed in by darkness, and saw no way out.</p> + +<p>Some time in the morning she heard a voice at the +casement. A white hand was thrust through the ivy, +and beat lightly on the glass.</p> + +<p>"Let me in, Ruth! Oh, let me in. I must speak to +you!"</p> + +<p>It was Lady Rose, who had known little rest since her +interview with Storms in the Wilderness. A ring of +excitement was in her voice. The face which looked in +through the ivy was wildly white.</p> + +<p>Ruth arose and unlocked the door. She would rather +have been alone in her misery; but what did it matter? +If she had any hope, it was that Lady Rose would not +speak of him. She could bear anything but that.</p> + +<p>"Poor Ruth! How ill—how miserably ill you look," +said the lady, taking the hot hands that seemed to avoid +her with a sudden clasp. "Death, even a father's death, +cannot have done all this."</p> + +<p>Ruth shook her head sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"My father—I have almost forgotten him."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose scarcely heeded this mournful confession; +but drew the girl down upon the sofa, unconsciously +grasping her hands till they would have made her cry +out with pain at another time.<span class="pagenum">[400]</span></p> + +<p>"Ruth, I have seen Storms, a man you know of. I +met him in the wilderness. He told me—"</p> + +<p>"He told you <i>that</i>!" exclaimed Ruth, aroused to new +pangs of distress. "And you believed him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ruth, he has your father's letter. We could +laugh his proof to scorn, but for that."</p> + +<p>"Still, I do not believe it," said Ruth, kindling into +vitality again. "It was my father's letter. I carried it, +not knowing what was written. My poor father believed +it, no doubt; but I do not."</p> + +<p>"Nor do I," said Lady Rose. "Nothing can make me +believe it!"</p> + +<p>Ruth threw herself at the young lady's feet, and clung +to her in passionate gratitude.</p> + +<p>"Get up, Ruth!" said Lady Rose. "Be strong, be +magnanimous, for you alone can save Walton Hurst's +life."</p> + +<p>The girl got up obediently, but seemed turning to +marble as she did so; for she guessed at the impossibility +that would be demanded of her.</p> + +<p>"I? How?" she questioned, in a hoarse whisper. +"How?"</p> + +<p>"You and I. It rests with us."</p> + +<p>Ruth breathed heavily.</p> + +<p>"You and I!"</p> + +<p>"This wretch—forgive me—this man, Storms, wants +two things—land and gold. These I can give him, +and will."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes."</p> + +<p>"But he wants something else which I cannot give, +and on that all the rest depends."</p> + +<p>Ruth did not speak. She grew cold again.</p> + +<p>"He wants you, Ruth."<span class="pagenum">[401]</span></p> + +<p>No word, not even a movement of the lip answered +this.</p> + +<p>"He says," continued Lady Rose, "that you love him; +that you are, of your own free will, pledged to him."</p> + +<p>"It is false!"</p> + +<p>The words startled Lady Rose.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ruth, do not say that. We have no other hope."</p> + +<p>"But he, Walton Hurst I mean, is innocent. You +know it—I know it."</p> + +<p>"But this man holds the proof that would cost his life, +false or true. It is in his hands, and we cannot wrest it +from them."</p> + +<p>"Is this true, Lady Rose?"</p> + +<p>"Fatally, fearfully true; God help us! Oh, Ruth, +why do you hesitate to save him?"</p> + +<p>"I do not hesitate!"</p> + +<p>"You will rescue him from this terrible accusation? +You will complete the engagement, and get that awful +letter? To think that he is in this great danger, and +does not know it! To think that his salvation lies in +our hands. What I can do is nothing. It will be you +that saves him."</p> + +<p>"I cannot! I cannot!"</p> + +<p>"Ruth Jessup! You refuse? You have the power +to save him, and will not?"</p> + +<p>"God help me! God help me, I cannot do it."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose turned away from the girl haughtily, angrily.</p> + +<p>"And I could think that she loved Walton Hurst," +she said, in bitterness of heart.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do not, do not condemn me. If you only knew—if +you only knew," cried Ruth, wringing her hands in +wild desperation.<span class="pagenum">[402]</span></p> + +<p>"I know that you could save him from death, and his +whole family from dishonor, and will not. That is +enough. I will importune you no longer. Had it been +me, I, the daughter of an earl, would have wedded that +man, yes—though he were twice the fiend he is—rather +than let this thunderbolt fall on a noble house, on as +brave and true a man as ever lived."</p> + +<p>"He is brave, he is true, and you are his peer. You +are worthy of him, heart and soul, and I am not. But +you might pity me a little, because I cannot do what +would save him."</p> + +<p>"Because you are incapable of a great sacrifice. Well, +I do pity you. As for me, I would die rather than he +should even know of the peril that threatens him."</p> + +<p>"Die? Die?"</p> + +<p>A sudden illumination swept the white face of Ruth +Jessup. Her eyes took fire, her breath rose in quick +gasps, out of which came those two words. Then another +question—would a death save him?</p> + +<p>"If my death could do it, I need not have come to +you," answered Lady Rose, proudly.</p> + +<p>"True, true, I can see that. Do not think so hardly +of me. I am not born to bravery, as you are. My +father was only a poor gardener. When great sacrifices +are asked of me, I may want a little time. You should +not be angry with me for that."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose turned eagerly.</p> + +<p>"You relent. You have a heart, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I will save him. In another week his +path and yours shall be clear and bright.</p> + +<p>"Mine? Mine? No, no! Can you think I do not +understand all that you meditate, all that you may suffer +in a marriage with this man? I spoke of dying. The<span class="pagenum">[403]</span> +self-abnegation you promise is a thousand times worse +than death. Ruth Jessup, I envy you the power of so +grand a sacrifice: I could make it as you will; and you +could give up everything, taking no share in the future +as I will. When this cloud is swept from 'Norston's +Rest,' I leave it forever."</p> + +<p>Excitement had kept Lady Rose proud and strong +till now; but in place of this a great swell of pity, and +self-pity, filled her heart. Reaching out her arms, she +drew Ruth into them, and wept passionately on her +shoulder, murmuring thanks, endearments, and tender +compassion in wild and broken snatches.</p> + +<p>As for Ruth, she had become the strongest of the two, +and, in her gentle way, strove to comfort the lady, who +stood upright after a while, and, pushing the young orphan +from her, searched her face, as if to make sure of +her firmness.</p> + +<p>"How calm, how still you look, girl! Tell me again +that you will not fail."</p> + +<p>"I will not fail."</p> + +<p>"But you will let me do something. We shall both +go away from here, you to a new home, far from this; a +pretty home, Ruth, and I to an estate very near, where +we will be such friends as the world never saw. This +hour has made us so. That which you are doing for +him I will help you to endure."</p> + +<p>Ruth smiled very sadly. Lady Rose kissed her, preparing +to go.</p> + +<p>"How cold your lips are! how I have made you +suffer!" she said, drawing back, chilled.</p> + +<p>"It will not last," answered Ruth, quietly. "Take +no further trouble about me. I have not felt so much +at rest since my father died."<span class="pagenum">[404]</span></p> + +<p>"If I only knew how to thank you."</p> + +<p>"I should thank you for pointing out the way; but +for that I might never have known," answered Ruth, +gently.</p> + +<p>"You will have saved him, and he will never know. +That seems hard; still, there may come a time—But, +you are growing pale again; I only pain you. Good-by, +for a while."</p> + +<p>"Good-by," said Ruth, faintly.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXVIII" id="CHAPTER_LXVIII"></a>CHAPTER LXVIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">FORSAKING HER HOME.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>RUTH</b> stood perfectly motionless, until the light +tread of Lady Rose died out on the turf. Then +she sat down and fell into thought, so deep and dreary, +that it seemed like waking from a trance, when she +looked up, and saw that the west was all aflame with +scarlet, and drenched in great seas of gold. Then she +arose, and went into her little chamber. Up to this time +her eyes had been dry; but some tender recollection +seemed to strike her, as she looked around, and instantly +they were flooded with tears. She busied herself about +the old-fashioned bureau a while, apparently selecting +such little objects as her husband had, from time to time, +given her. Then she took the prayer-book from her +toilet, in order to secure the marriage certificate, which +had been placed between its leaves.</p> + +<p>"They must not find this here," she thought. "Nothing +shall be left to show that he ever loved me."<span class="pagenum">[405]</span></p> + +<p>Then she took the ring from her bosom, and, folding +it up in a bit of silk paper with pathetic care, laid that, +too, within the leaves of the book, and made a package +of the whole.</p> + +<p>It was dark now, and, for a little time, she lay down +upon her white bed, and there, with folded hands, strove +to reason with herself. "When the man who hates him +so hears all, and knows that the poor girl he is hunting +to death is far, far beyond the reach of love or hate, he +will content himself with the lady's land and gold," she +thought. "She, too, will go away, and find happiness; +for he will seek her out, not too soon, I know that, but +after a while, and never knowing how it came to be so, +will give his heart to her.</p> + +<p>"Then I shall be forgotten—forgotten! Ah, me, why +was I born to bring such trouble on every one that loved +me? He will mourn. Oh, yes, he will mourn! He +never can help that, for he loved me—he loved me!"</p> + +<p>She thought this all over and over, with mournful +persistency. The spirit of self-sacrifice was strong upon +her; but not the less did all the sweet tenderness of her +woman's nature dwell upon the objects of love she was +giving up.</p> + +<p>The night darkened. She heard the old clock down-stairs +tolling out the hours that were numbered to her +now. Then she got up, struck a light, and opened her +desk. There was something to be written—a painful +thing to be done.</p> + +<p>The paper was before her, the pen in her hand. What +could she say? how begin a letter which was to rend the +heart that loved her? How could she make that young +husband comprehend the anguish with which she cast +herself on the earth to save him, when he was conscious<span class="pagenum">[406]</span> +of no danger! She began to write swiftly, paused, and +fell into thought; began again, and went on, sobbing +piteously, and forming her words almost at random.</p> + +<p>When her letter was finished, she folded it, cast her +arms across the desk, and broke the solemn silence of the +room with low, faint moans, that are the most painful +expression of hopeless anguish.</p> + +<p>Again the clock struck, and every brazen time-call +fell on her heart like a bullet. She got up, as if in +obedience to some cruel command. Instead of her +scarlet jacket, and the hat, whose cluster of red roses +gleamed in the candle-light, she put on the soft gray +dress worn on that fatal wedding morning. Then she +placed the letter she had written on the prayer-book. +After this, Ruth went slowly down-stairs, carrying the +candle and package in one hand.</p> + +<p>A gust of wind from the door, as she opened it, put +out the light. Thus she left nothing but darkness in +her old home.</p> + +<p>Ruth looked around warily, for even in that fearful +hour she remembered the threat of her tormentor, and +dreaded some harm to the beloved being she was determined +to save.</p> + +<p>The moon was buried in clouds, storm-clouds, that +made the whole landscape funereal, like the heart of that +poor girl. She went through shrubberies and flower-beds, +straight toward the window of Walton Hurst's +room. Pulling aside the ivy, she mounted the half-concealed +step, not cautiously, as she had done on another +occasion, but with a concentration of feeling which left +fear behind.</p> + +<p>It was a warm, close night, and a leaf of the casement +was partly open. She thrust it back, with a swiftness<span class="pagenum">[407]</span> +that gave no sound, and stepped into the room. Hurst +was lying on the bed asleep. Illness had left its traces +upon his features, and his hands lay clasped, loosely, on +the counterpane. Something more sombre than the +shadows thrown by the dim lamp lay upon his fine face. +Anxiety had done its work, as well as sickness.</p> + +<p>Ruth stood by the bed, motionless, almost calm. The +supreme misery of her life had come. She had no sobs to +keep back, no tears to hide—despair had locked up all the +tenderness of grief with an iron hand. She was about +to part with that sleeping man forever and ever. He +was her bridegroom: she must give him up, that his +honor, nay, his very life might be saved.</p> + +<p>The prayer-book that she carried in her hand contained, +she believed, all the proofs of a marriage that +had been more unfortunate than death. No one must +ever see them. They were a fatal secret, which she +gave up to her husband's keeping alone. She laid the +book upon the counterpane, close to his folded hands, not +daring to touch them, lest the misery within her might +break out in cries of anguish. Then she stood mute and +still, gazing down upon him, minute after minute, while +the light shone dimly on the dumb agony of her face. +At last, she bent down, touched his forehead with her +lips, and fled.<span class="pagenum">[408]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXIX" id="CHAPTER_LXIX"></a>CHAPTER LXIX.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE SOUL'S DANGER.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>HOW</b>, and by what way, that poor young creature +came out on the verge of the Black Lake she +could not have told. When she came down those balcony +steps she had left the world behind her. Filled +with an insane idea of self-martyrdom, she went onward +and onward as rudderless boats reel through a storm.</p> + +<p>Now she stood among the rushes—clouds over her +head, a great sea of inky waters weltering away from her +feet—gloom and blackness everywhere. The old lake +house flung down uncouth shadows on one hand, a +gnarled oak pushed its gaunt limbs far over the waters +on the other. The rushes around her swayed and +moaned in the wind like living things in pain.</p> + +<p>Was it this weird picture that brought Ruth to a sense +of her own condition? Did it seem to her as if she had +already accomplished her purpose, and was entering +upon its punishment? Who can answer for the impulses +of a soul in its passions of distress? No two +events are alike in all the tumultuous actions of life. +When the destinies of a human being can be turned by +a chance thought, a careless word, even a sunbeam, +more or less, what intellect can fathom the exact thing +that sways it for good or evil? One might have thought +that the gloom of this picture would intensify the dark +resolve that had urged that young creature on to death. +Instead of that, it came upon her with a great shock, and +she stood there among the rushes appalled.</p> + +<p>Was it by that dark way she could hope to find her +father?<span class="pagenum">[409]</span></p> + +<p>As she asked this question an awful fear came upon +her. She walked slowly backward, with her eyes fixed +upon the water, breathing heavier and heavier, as the +rushes swayed to their place between her and them. +Thus she drew away from the awful danger to the +threshold of the lake house. There she sat down.</p> + +<p>What was this thing she had promised to do? A great +crime which would shut her out from her father's presence +forever and ever, which would make it impossible +to meet her young husband through all eternity. She +was willing to die for him—the agony was nothing. +Had she not suffered more than that over and over +again? But to give him up here and beyond those black +waters was more than she could force upon her soul.</p> + +<p>Beyond all this, the delicate organism of her being +shrunk from that which might come to her body after +death. She saw, as if it were a real presence, herself +sinking, sinking down into the blackness of those waters, +her limbs, so full of life now, limp and dead, tangled in +the coarse grasses, or seized upon by some undercurrent, +and dragged down into the depths of the earth. Worse +still, coarse men might, with mistaken kindness, search +the waters, and lift her from them in the very presence +of her husband; who would see the face he had kissed +swollen, the sodden lengths of her hair trailing the—the—</p> + +<p>She could not bear these thoughts; they made existence +itself unreal. She pushed the hair back from her +face, as if expecting to find it dripping; she lifted both +hands to her lips and laughed aloud when she found +them dry. She folded both arms over her bosom and +clasped herself in, sobbing out her relief that he had +been saved from the anguish of seeing her dead. But<span class="pagenum">[410]</span> +not the less was she doomed. It was not the sacrifice +that she shrunk from, but the crime. This moral force +kept the girl back from her fate, but in no way lessened +the spirit of self-abnegation that had brought her +to the lake. Only how would she carry that into effect +without crime? How could she take herself out of the +way and be dead to every one that she loved? The fearful +necessities of her case gave vigor to each thought, as +it passed through her mind, and these thoughts were +taking vague form, when the sounds of footsteps and of +voices, speaking low and at intervals, startled her. +Looking through the darkness she saw two forms coming +down the brief descent along which a path led to the +lake house. She had risen, and was looking for some +place of refuge when a voice reached her, and darting +around the old building she stole up the bank and away +through the wildness.</p> + +<p>It was the voice of Richard Storms.</p> + +<p>Ruth went back to the cottage and searched the darkened +rooms for the desk in which her father had kept +his money. She placed what was found there in her +pocket, with the key which had let her through the +park-gate on that other eventful day of her life, and +went out into the night again. She reached the gate, +turned the lock, and taking the highway, walked rapidly +toward the nearest railroad station.</p> + +<p>A train was in sight. She had scarcely time to secure +a ticket when it swept up to the platform. The guard +half pushed her into a second-class car, and she was +borne away toward London.</p> + +<p>There in the solitude which seems most forlorn, she +fell into a trance, in which all the faculties of her mind +were self-centred—all the information she had ever received<span class="pagenum">[411]</span> +from her father or any other source presented itself +for her use.</p> + +<p>She would not save even her own husband by a crime. +That idea she put utterly aside, knowing that to live was +a choice of deeper suffering and more cruel martyrdom. +But she must be dead to him—dead to the whole world. +Her name, humble as it was, should not betray her. +She would go, no matter where, but so far as the money +in her pocket would allow. Her father had sometimes +talked of places beyond the great ocean, where people of +small means, or made desperate from misfortune, sought +a new life. All that she had read of such places came +vividly to her remembrance—how people went on shipboard, +and were months and months out to sea, where +they were happy enough to die sometimes. Perhaps +God would be so merciful to her.</p> + +<p>With these thoughts taking form in her mind Ruth +found herself in London.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXX" id="CHAPTER_LXX"></a>CHAPTER LXX.</h2> + +<p class="h3">ON THE TRAIN.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>AT</b> the station, which Richard Storms had designated, +Judith Hart had been waiting while three or four +trains went by. She did not travel much by railroads, +and this was almost like a new experience to her. She +had brought no luggage, for the pretty dress of black and +scarlet, that Storms had given her, was the only portion +of her wardrobe worth taking away, and she had put that +on with a womanly desire to please his parents with her<span class="pagenum">[412]</span> +appearance, which certainly was that of a beautiful, if not +highly-bred, girl.</p> + +<p>It was getting dark when a train came up, and Storms, +recognizing her on the platform, made the signal agreed +upon, though his face clouded over, and he stifled an +oath between his teeth when he saw how conspicuous the +dress made her.</p> + +<p>"I might have known it," he thought; "from the +highest to the lowest, all female creatures are alike. +Most of them would go in full dress to the gallows, if the +hangman were fool enough to permit it."</p> + +<p>Judith had not seen the first signal, but stood on the +verge of the platform, looking with evident disappointment +up and down the train, when her eyes fell on the +department he was in. The next instant she sprang up +the steps and took a seat by his side, but the smile left +her face when he looked up vaguely and turned to the +opposite window, as if her presence was an intrusion.</p> + +<p>The train gave a lurch and moved on. Then she ventured +to speak.</p> + +<p>"You look sullen. You do not seem glad. What is +the matter, Richard?"</p> + +<p>Storms turned in his seat and scrutinized her dress +from head to foot.</p> + +<p>"You don't like it?" she said, in some confusion; +"but I had nothing else fit to wear at your mother's +house, and I thought you would like me to look like a +lady, as you are to make me one so soon. Forgive me, +if I have taken too much on myself."</p> + +<p>"Forgive you for making yourself so handsome? I +should be a brute of a fellow not to do that."</p> + +<p>The girl's heart leaped. She had expected harsh language, +reproach, perhaps bitterness, if the dress did not<span class="pagenum">[413]</span> +please him; but there was nothing of this; on the contrary, +there was hilarity in his voice, a sort of careless +abandonment, as if some pleasant surprise had been given +him, which he was prepared to accept with acquiescence +at least.</p> + +<p>This ready, almost hilarious, approval of her dress +overwhelmed Judith with delight.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how tired I was of waiting! How happy I am!" +she sighed, leaning toward him.</p> + +<p>Storms drew her close to him with a fierce grip of the +arm, in a passion of love or hate which took away her +breath; then his arm released its hold, and he made a +gesture as if to push her from him.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" she questioned, turning her +eyes wildly upon him.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," he said; "your curls brushed my face; +that is all."</p> + +<p>"It seemed almost as if you hated me," said the girl, +rubbing her arm with one hand.</p> + +<p>"Hated you! What should make me do that?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps because I come between you and that Jessup +girl, with all her money."</p> + +<p>"What is her money to me? It was the old people +that wanted it, not I. Now, all she has got would be +nothing compared to what I can give a wife."</p> + +<p>"To think that all this has been brought about by a +bit of paper! That chance lifted me out of myself. +Loving you as I did, it was like opening the gates of +heaven to me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the gate of heaven," repeated the young man, +in a voice full of weird irony. "It would be a pity to +draw you back."</p> + +<p>"It would kill me," answered Judith. "It seems as<span class="pagenum">[414]</span> +if a world of happiness had been crowded into these +days, when I am made sure of being your wife! Can it +be? Am I certain of that? Ah, what changes a day +may bring!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, many things may be done in less than a day," +said Storms, in a light if not mocking tone. "It only +takes a minute or two sometimes for a man to yoke himself +up for life. If one could only wrench himself free +as easily, now!"</p> + +<p>"You speak as if I were not quite forgiven for keeping +back that paper," she said with a look of swift apprehension.</p> + +<p>"Do I? Well, you will soon learn how I can forgive.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Richard?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. But this is the station nearest to 'Norston's +Rest.' We get out here."</p> + +<p>The whistle of a train coming from the east was just +then sounding sharp and clear in the distance.</p> + +<p>Storms left his train just as it began to move, and +Judith followed him. When she reached the platform +he turned his face upon her in the starlight, and she saw +that he was smiling.</p> + +<p>"Come," he said, drawing her toward the track.</p> + +<p>"Step back! Step back! Here comes another train," +cried Judith. "How awfully human that red light +blazes in front of the engine! It frightens me! Oh, +be careful."</p> + +<p>Storms had flung one arm around the girl's waist and +forced her to the very edge of the platform, as if about to +help her leap across the rails, but she pressed back in +terror and clung to him till the train passed by.</p> + +<p>"Why, what makes you tremble so? What did you +shriek for?"<span class="pagenum">[415]</span></p> + +<p>"I was so near the edge the hot steam swept over me."</p> + +<p>"Over me, too. The engine lurched up so suddenly +that I nearly lost my balance; but that was nothing to +get frightened about. Come, now, the coast is clear, and +the old people will be expecting us. You are not so +tired that we cannot walk from the station?"</p> + +<p>Judith laughed.</p> + +<p>"Tired? Oh, no. I could walk twenty miles if they +only ended at your home. You don't know how I have +longed for a sight of it!"</p> + +<p>"Come, then. We will go across the park. It is the +nearest way, and you know it best."</p> + +<p>Judith did not answer; her usual high spirits were +dampened. She only folded the scarlet sacque over her +bosom, and prepared to follow Storms, breathing heavily, +she could not have told why.</p> + +<p>No other passengers left the train at that station, and, +without entering the building, these two passed into the +village in mutual stillness. Once beyond that, Storms +kept the highway until they reached the side-gate in the +park wall.</p> + +<p>"This is our nearest way to the old house. It saves +a good bit of road," he said, opening the gate with his key.</p> + +<p>Judith followed him. She knew the path well and +took it willingly. This really was the nearest way to the +farm-house.</p> + +<p>They were in the wilderness now, threading it by a +path that made a sudden descent to the Black Lake.</p> + +<p>"Richard! Richard!" Judith cried out, in nervous +haste. "How fast you walk! It quite takes away my +breath."</p> + +<p>Storms slackened the rapid pace with which he was +walking and threw his arms around her; then kissed her<span class="pagenum">[416]</span> +fiercely upon the lips, so fiercely that she was not aware +that his hand pressed the paper hidden in her bosom, +and she struggled away from him, for the kiss brought +shuddering with it, as if an asp had stung her.</p> + +<p>"Why, girl, I thought you loved me."</p> + +<p>"I do—I do! Oh, how dearly!"</p> + +<p>"But you do not know yet how I can love."</p> + +<p>They were descending the path that led to the lake. +Now the young man girded her waist with one arm and +hurried her forward almost beyond her power of walking. +When they reached the lake she was panting for +breath.</p> + +<p>"One minute—let me rest a minute," she pleaded, +holding back from the bank, which they were walking +dangerously near.</p> + +<p>"A minute? Oh, yes. I will give you that," he said. +"Indeed, I feel tired myself. Come in here. It will +seem like old times."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXXI" id="CHAPTER_LXXI"></a>CHAPTER LXXI.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE SPIDER'S WEB.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>STORMS</b> turned at once and led the way to the dilapidated +old summer-house where so many of his interviews +with the girl had taken place.</p> + +<p>There was something secretly sinister in the man's +voice that might have warned Judith of danger; but for +his previous expressions of tenderness, she would have +been on her guard. As it was, she hurried past him, and +went into the little building first; then flinging off her<span class="pagenum">[417]</span> +scarlet jacket, she tossed her pretty hat, with its cluster of +red poppies, upon the bench, and pushed the black masses +of hair away from her temples, with the dash of a prize-fighter +going into action.</p> + +<p>"It is so warm," she said, "and we have walked so +fast. Ah! how natural the old place looks!"</p> + +<p>Storms paused at the door, and looked back along the +path he had trod, and around the lake cautiously.</p> + +<p>"You needn't trouble yourself. If a gamekeeper +should see us they'll take me for that Jessup girl," she +said, laughing.</p> + +<p>"While we are here," he said, with soft insinuation, +"let me read that letter you spoke of—Jessup's last. +There is moonlight enough, and I haven't seen it yet."</p> + +<p>There was something in the man's face, or in his +voice, that warned Judith, who pressed both hands to +her bosom in quick alarm.</p> + +<p>"No, no, not here—the light is not strong enough. I +have promised to give it up on our wedding-day, and I +will."</p> + +<p>"And not before?"</p> + +<p>"No, I will not give it up before."</p> + +<p>Judith Hart drew toward the dilapidated window that +opened upon that balcony which overhung the deepest +portion of the lake. She made a singularly wild figure, +standing there, with her bloodless face, and all the thick +masses of her hair thrust back, while the rays of a fitful +moon streamed over her.</p> + +<p>Storms came close to her, speaking low, and with unusual +gentleness.</p> + +<p>"Judith, I thought that you loved me."</p> + +<p>"So I do; better than myself; better than my own +soul!"<span class="pagenum">[418]</span></p> + +<p>"Yet you keep a paper from me that might destroy +me."</p> + +<p>"It never shall. You could not keep it safer than I +will."</p> + +<p>"What if I never marry you?"</p> + +<p>"But you will."</p> + +<p>"Never while you hold that paper."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I see it was for that you brought me here. I +have been a fool!"</p> + +<p>"Exactly."</p> + +<p>The man was looking out on the lake as he spoke, +and did not see the flash of those black eyes, or the rage +that curved those lips till the teeth gleamed menacingly +through.</p> + +<p>"A miserable fool," he went on, "or you would have +known that a man who had the chance of a girl like +Ruth Jessup would never think of you."</p> + +<p>"Ah, it is Ruth Jessup, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is Ruth Jessup—the only girl I ever cared a +straw for. The letter you gave me gets her with the +rest. That is the grandest part of my bargain. She +cannot help herself."</p> + +<p>"But I can help her and punish you. The letter you +want, but shall never have—William Jessup's last letter, +written when his head was clear and his memory good, +taking back the lines written in his fever—a letter +charging <i>you</i> with the murder I saw done with my own +eyes—this letter, and all that I know, shall be in Sir +Noel's hands before he goes to bed to-night."</p> + +<p>Judith had drawn the pocket-book that held this letter +from her bosom, unseen by her assailant, and made a +movement as if to depart; but Storms leaped upon her +like a wild beast, and when she struggled fiercely with +him, hurled her against the window.<span class="pagenum">[419]</span></p> + +<p>A loud crash, a storm of shattered glass and splintered +wood, and, through the great ragged opening, Judith +Hart reeled into the balcony, hurling the pocket-book over +her murderer's shoulder. He did not see the act, of which +the girl herself was almost unconscious. His arm was +coiled around her, and though holding backward with all +her might, she was forced to the edge of the rickety +structure, that began to reel under them. Here the man +held her a moment, looking down into her white face +with his keen, cruel eyes.</p> + +<p>"This is how I forgive—this is how I love you—this +is the way you will keep me from a fortune!"</p> + +<p>The girl was mute with terror. She could not even +cry out, but clung to him in a dumb agony of entreaty.</p> + +<p>"You meant to force me into marrying you, poor +fool! Give me that letter!"</p> + +<p>The wretched girl had flung the letter from her and +she could not tell where. It might be in the water or +among the rushes.</p> + +<p>"I have not got it—I have not; but I loved you! +Oh, I did love you!"</p> + +<p>"Lying with your last breath. The accursed thing is +in your bosom."</p> + +<p>"No! no! no!"</p> + +<p>She held on to him now, though he had lifted her +from her feet, and covering his cruel face with desperate +kisses, clung to him with a grasp that even his wiry +strength could not tear away.</p> + +<p>"You did love me. I know that. It was her money. +You did love <i>me</i>—you <i>do</i>. It is only to frighten me. +Let me down, let me down. Do you know I am on the +very edge? It is dangerous fun—cruel fun!"</p> + +<p>"Fun!" sneered the fiend, wrenching her arms away<span class="pagenum">[420]</span> +and drawing back to give more deadly force to the action. +"Fun, is it?"</p> + +<p>He was pushing backward, his white face was close to +hers, his hoarse curse hissed in her ear. With a terrible +effort to save herself, she wound her arms around his +neck, dragging him down to the rickety railing, over +which he was straining all his powers to hurl her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dick! Dick! Don't kill me! Do—"</p> + +<p>Another crash. The railing gave way. He strove +madly to free his neck from her clinging arms, but they +clasped him like iron. The struggle was terrible. Under +it the whole balcony began to quiver and break. Their +two faces were close together, their eyes burning with +hate and fear, met. One desperate effort the man put +forth to free himself; but the grip on his neck grew +closer, and choked him. With the might of despair he +dragged her half-way up from the reeling timbers; but +her weight baffled his strength, and brought him down +with an awful thud. Down, down, they plunged, +through the rotten timbers, into the black depths of the +lake.</p> + +<p>After this the stillness was appalling. Over the place +where those two had gone down, linked together in that +death-clasp, bits of broken wood floated, drearily, like +reptiles driven from their holes; and from their midst a +human head appeared, lifted itself from the water, and +went down again. Twice after this the head rose, each +time nearer the shore. Then two gleaming hands seized +upon the strong rushes, forsook them for a rooted vine, +and Judith Hart lifted herself to the bank; where she +fell helpless, with the ends of her long hair streaming +into the water, and mingling with the grasses that +swayed to and fro on their dark disturbance.<span class="pagenum">[421]</span></p> + +<p>In this position the girl lay exhausted for some minutes, +then she struggled to her feet, swept the dank hair back +from her face, and, stooping forward, searched the waters +with her clouded eyes.</p> + +<p>She saw nothing. If any object, living or dead, was +on that inky surface the darkness concealed it. Then +her hands were flung out and her voice struggled into +cries:</p> + +<p>"Richard! Richard! Here! here! The water is +shallow here. Oh, my God! Light a little light that I +may see where he is!"</p> + +<p>There was no answer—only a faint lapse of water +against the bank.</p> + +<p>"Richard! Richard!"</p> + +<p>Again and again that sharp, wild voice rang out on +the night, only answered by more awful stillness and the +silence of hopeless listening.</p> + +<p>Thus, for one dark hour, that poor creature, shivering, +pallid, and wet, paced up and down the shore, dragging +her sodden garments through the dense herbage, and +calling out whenever she paused in her moaning, +"Richard! Richard! Richard!"</p> + +<p>At length this cry sounded for the last time, long +and low, like the plaint of a wounded night-bird; but +there was no reply, and if anything, living or dead, arose +to the surface of those inky waters after that, God alone +saw it.</p> + +<p>Judith Hart had wandered there, it might have been a +minute, or an eternity, for anything she knew of time; +but the black silence drove her away at last. She went +into the denser portion of the wilderness, and came out +by the farm-house in which the parents of Richard +Storms lay sleeping peacefully, for their son had left<span class="pagenum">[422]</span> +them for the fair held in a neighboring town that morning, +and they did not expect him home before another +day.</p> + +<p>Judith turned from her route, for she took no path, +and went up to the door of this house, beating against it +with her hands. After a while a bolt was drawn, and an +old woman, wearing a shawl over her night dress, looked +out, but half closed the door again when she saw a strange +female, with a face like death, and long wet hair streaming +down her back, staring at her. Twice this figure +attempted to speak, but that which she tried to say +choked her until the words broke out in spasms:</p> + +<p>"You are his mother. He tried to save me. I was +in the Black Lake, sinking; he plunged after me, but +went down, down. I tried to drag him up. Three +times, three times I went headforemost into the darkness. +All night long I have been calling for him, but he would +not answer. Do not think he was angry with me. No +one must think that. It was to save me. Only to save +me, he was trying."</p> + +<p>The old woman held a candle in her hand. It began +to shake as she said:</p> + +<p>"Who are you speaking of? Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"Of him—he loved me—I was to be his wife, and he +was bringing me here, only we stopped at the lake and +I fell in. After that, I could not find him; dive down +as I would, he went deeper still. I called out till my +breath failed; but he would not answer. My husband—you +know."</p> + +<p>The old woman shaded her light with one hand while +she scrutinized that wild face.</p> + +<p>"A face I have never seen," she thought; "some poor +crazed thing."<span class="pagenum">[423]</span></p> + +<p>"Come in from the cold. You are shivering," she +said, in great kindliness, "your teeth knock together."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not cold, but he is. Go seek for him. He +will not answer me; but you are his mother. He is not +angry with you. I will get out of the way. He will +not show himself while I am there; but when you call, +it will be different. What are you standing there for? +Call up your men; get lanterns. He is hiding away +from me; but you are his mother."</p> + +<p>Before old Mrs. Storms could answer these words, +crowded each upon the other, the girl stepped from the +door-stone and was gone.</p> + +<p>"Poor thing, poor thing, her face is strange, and she +talks of a husband as if I were his mother. I was +frightened in spite of that, as if it were Richard she spoke +of. So like my own dear lad, to risk his life for another. +It was that which set me trembling, nothing else; for I +knew well enough that he was safe at the fair."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" questioned the farmer, when his wife +came back to her bed-room.</p> + +<p>"Only a woman that has lost her mind, I think," answered +the wife, blowing out her candle. "I would fain +have had her come in, but she is gone."</p> + +<p>"Then what makes ye tremble and shake so, woman? +Have ye found another corpse-light in the candle?" +The old man said this with a low, chuckling laugh; for +he delighted in ridiculing his wife's superstitions.</p> + +<p>"No; I had not thought of that," answered the dame. +But all that night, while Judith Hart was travelling the +road to her father's house, unconscious of fatigue and +fleeing, as it were, from herself, this loving mother lay +restlessly awake by the side of her husband; for he, in +his good-natured jeering, had frightened sleep from her.<span class="pagenum">[424]</span></p> + +<p>Twenty miles away, another weary soul had been kept +awake with loving anxiety. The old man whom Judith +had deserted a second time lay in that humble home +bemoaning his loneliness, wondering what had drawn +the only creature left to him on earth from the shelter +of his roof, where she had for some days seemed so cheerfully +content. Would she ever return?</p> + +<p>The old man was asking himself this question almost +in hopelessness, when the first gray of morning broke +into his room. Leaving his bed, weary as when he +sought it, the old man dressed himself and went to the +front door. There, sitting in the porch, with her limbs +huddled together, and her hair all afloat, was the young +creature whose absence he had bewailed—his daughter +Judith.</p> + +<p>When she saw her father, the poor girl stood up unsteadily. +She was shivering all over; but on her cheeks +was a flame of coming fever, and her hot hands shook as +she held them toward him.</p> + +<p>"Father, I have come back to you. Take me home. +I have come back to you. Take me home."</p> + +<p>The old man reached forth his arms, drew her within +them, and with her head falling helplessly on his shoulder, +led her into the house.<span class="pagenum">[425]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXXII" id="CHAPTER_LXXII"></a>CHAPTER LXXII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>TWO</b> persons, both anxious and unhappy, sat in the +breakfast-room at "Norston's Rest," Sir Noel and +Lady Rose. Sir Noel was thinking with secret uneasiness +of the charge, that had been made with such coarse audacity, +against his son, by Richard Storms; he was thinking +also, with some self-upbraiding, of the young orphan +who had submitted herself so gently to the demands of +his pride. With all his aristocratic habits of thought +and feeling, Sir Noel was essentially a good man—rich +in kindliness, and incapable of doing a cruel thing, +knowing it as such, and spite of his worldly reasoning, +his heart was not without self-reproach when he thought +of Jessup's daughter.</p> + +<p>Lady Rose had even deeper causes of anxiety. She +had performed her promise to Richard Storms; the +papers, which would convey to him a really fine estate, +were prepared, and she was ready to deliver them on +Ruth's wedding day, when all this shameful attempt to +cast disgrace on an honorable name would have been +defeated by the sacrifice of two girls, herself giving the +smaller part.</p> + +<p>This thought troubled the young lady. Like Sir +Noel, she felt heart-sore when thinking of the fate to +which she had urged this poor girl, who had been her +playmate and friend.</p> + +<p>With all these anxieties, the guardian and ward met +with their usual quiet courteousness, for habits of decorous +self-control checked all expression of deep feeling.<span class="pagenum">[426]</span></p> + +<p>Still, Sir Noel might have noticed that the cheeks of +his ward were pale, and her blue eyes darkened with +shadows, but for his own preoccupation, for she had +neither his self-control nor habit of suppression. Besides, +he had observed these signs of unrest frequently of late, +and it was in some degree because of this that he had +dealt so positively with Ruth Jessup.</p> + +<p>A third party looking in upon that pleasant scene +would never have dreamed that disturbing thoughts +could enter there. It was a beautiful room, and a beautiful +morning. The fragrance of many flowers came +floating through the windows, where it met flowers +again of still more exquisite odors. The breakfast service +of gold and silver, the Sèvres china and crystal +were delicate, almost as the flowers.</p> + +<p>They had not expected young Hurst to breakfast with +them. Since his illness he had taken this meal in his +own room; but now he came in hurriedly, so hurriedly +that Sir Noel absolutely started with dismay when he +saw the white agony of his face. The young man went +up to the table and laid a book upon it.</p> + +<p>"Sir Noel—father," he said, in a voice that thrilled +both listeners with compassion,—"in that book is my +marriage certificate. This letter is from my wife. I +have deceived you, and she has dealt out my punishment, +for she has chosen to abandon me, and die rather +than brave your displeasure."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel was always pale, but his delicate features +turned to marble now. Still the shock he endured gave +no other expression of its intensity. He reached forth +his hand, and pushed the book aside.</p> + +<p>"It is Jessup's daughter you are speaking of," he said, +pausing to ask no questions.<span class="pagenum">[427]</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, father, yes; Jessup's daughter. She was my +wife, and for that reason has destroyed herself."</p> + +<p>"Let me read the letter. It may not be so bad as +you apprehend."</p> + +<p>Walton gave him the letter; then falling on a seat by +the table, flung out his arms and buried his face upon +them.</p> + +<p>"It may be as you fear," said Sir Noel, after reading +poor Ruth's letter, "but I think there is room for a +doubt."</p> + +<p>"A doubt! Oh, father, can you see that?"</p> + +<p>Lady Rose had arisen, and stood near the window, +white as the lace that draped it, cold as the marble console +on which she leaned. She came forward now, speaking +almost in a whisper:</p> + +<p>"If this thing is true—if Ruth Jessup has killed herself—it +is I who am guilty of her death. It was I, miserable +wretch that I am, who urged her to it, not knowingly, +but out of my ignorant zeal. Poor girl! Oh, +Walton! Walton! I did not know that she was your +wife—I urged her to marry—I am the person most to +blame in this."</p> + +<p>"No! no!" said Walton, starting up. "By one wild, +rash step, I brought this great trouble on us all. Father, +father, can you ever forgive me? Is not this awful punishment +enough?"</p> + +<p>Sir Noel did not answer at once, but his face grew +rigid. Lady Rose saw this, and went up to him, her +eyes full of eloquent pleading, her very attitude one of +entreaty.</p> + +<p>No word was spoken; but the old baronet understood +all the generous heroism of that look. Bending his +head, as if to the behest of a queen, he reached out his<span class="pagenum">[428]</span> +hand to Walton, gravely, sadly, as a man forgives with +his heart, while the pride of his nature is still resistant.</p> + +<p>"We must search the cottage. Ruth was young, +timid. She never can have carried out this design. +There must be no noise, no outcry among the servants. +Living or dead, my son's wife must not be a subject for +public clamor. If she is to be found, it is for us to discover +her."</p> + +<p>Walton, in his weakness and distress, supported himself +by the table, which shook under his hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how weak I am! How weak I have been!" he +said, wiping the moisture from his pale forehead.</p> + +<p>Sir Noel poured out a glass of wine and gave it to him.</p> + +<p>"Take this—sit down—sit down and rest."</p> + +<p>"No, no; I must seek for her!"</p> + +<p>"You cannot. Trust to your father, Walton. If +your wife is living, I will find her."</p> + +<p>Walton seized his father's hand, and wrung it with all +his weakened force.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! I have not deserved this! I cannot—I +can hardly stand; but we will go—we will go."</p> + +<p>He did, indeed, reel across the room, searching blindly +for his hat.</p> + +<p>Sir Noel led him into the little sitting-room, and placed +him with gentle force on a couch.</p> + +<p>"Rest there, my son, till I come back. Lady Rose +will stay with you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! father!"</p> + +<p>The young man turned his face upon the cushions, and +shook the couch with his sobs. The baronet's kindness +seemed to have broken up his heart. The best comforter +for such grief was a woman. Sir Noel looked +around for his ward, but she had gone.<span class="pagenum">[429]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXXIII" id="CHAPTER_LXXIII"></a>CHAPTER LXXIII.</h2> + +<p class="h3">SEARCHING THE LAKE HOUSE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>LADY ROSE</b> had, indeed, left the house. She knew +best where to search for the missing girl. In the +hall she met Mrs. Hipple. Snatching a garden-hat, she +held it toward the old governess, who stood gazing upon +her in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Take this, and come with me. I want help—come!"</p> + +<p>Never had the lady spoken so imperiously; never +had Mrs. Hipple seen her so terribly agitated. Before +she had tied on the hat, Lady Rose was half-way down +the terrace-steps.</p> + +<p>"To the gardener's cottage," she directed, turning her +head impatiently. "We must go there first."</p> + +<p>Startled, and utterly bewildered, the old woman followed. +She was a good walker, but failed to overtake +Lady Rose until she stood before the cottage. The door +was closed, the shutters tightly fastened, as she had never +seen them before.</p> + +<p>"Ruth may be lying dead there." Hesitating under +the horror of this thought, she held on to the gate unable +to go in or move away.</p> + +<p>"Are you afraid?" she said to Mrs. Hipple.</p> + +<p>"Afraid? No. Why should I be?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, you have not been told, and I have no time; +come."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose swung the gate inward, went into the porch, +and tried the door. It was not fastened. She pushed +it open and entered the little parlor. The light was dim, +but her quick glance searched the room—the table<span class="pagenum">[430]</span> +where Ruth worked, the chintz couch, the one great +easy-chair.</p> + +<p>"Not here! not here!" she cried. "Wait till I +come."</p> + +<p>She ran up-stairs into each chamber, calling out:</p> + +<p>"Ruth! Ruth! Do not hide, Ruth. It is I, Lady +Rose."</p> + +<p>No answer; nothing but twilight darkness and the +shadowy furniture. Down the stairs she went, through +the kitchen, and out into the open air.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hipple followed her.</p> + +<p>"Lady Rose! Lady Rose! what is this? you terrify +me!" pleaded the old woman at last.</p> + +<p>"How can I help it, being fearfully terrified myself? +Oh, Hipple, Walton was privately married to Ruth +Jessup, and she is missing!"</p> + +<p>"Married—missing!"</p> + +<p>"She may be dead; and oh, Hipple, my dear old friend, +I drove her to it."</p> + +<p>"You! no, no, my child; but come—where shall we +search?"</p> + +<p>Lady Rose led the way down to the Black Lake. +The door of the old summer house was open. Through +it she saw gleams of scarlet, outside the broken timbers.</p> + +<p>"She is here—we are in time!" she cried out, rushing +forward, but recoiled from the threshold with a faint +moan. It was only a scarlet garment, with the morning +sunshine pouring over it.</p> + +<p>"It is hers. She has gone. Oh, God, forgive me, +she has gone!" cried the poor lady, dragging her reluctant +limbs through the opening. "Her own jacket and +the pretty hat. God help me! I have killed her. I, +who meant only to redeem him. Oh, Hipple, have<span class="pagenum">[431]</span> +I the curse of a great crime—the mark of Cain on +me?"</p> + +<p>"Hush," said the old lady, with gentle authority, +placing the unhappy girl on the bench. "I have more +calmness; let me search. This sacque—"</p> + +<p>"It is hers! it is hers! I have seen her wear it, oh, +so often," cried Lady Rose, covering her eyes, which the +flame tints of the garment seemed to burn.</p> + +<p>"No," answered the governess, examining the garment +in her hand with keen criticism; "this is not Ruth Jessup's +sacque. The one she wore had a delicate vine of +embroidery about the edge; this is braided."</p> + +<p>Lady Rose dropped her hands.</p> + +<p>"It is true; it is true; and the hat—hers was turned +up at the side with red roses; these are poppies. You +are right, Hipple. She may be living yet."</p> + +<p>While they were examining the garment Sir Noel came +into the lake house. He looked around, taking in the +scene at a glance—the scarlet jacket, the broken window, +and the jagged timbers left of the balcony, and upon the +floor an old pocket-book or portemonnaie. Lady Rose +watched him as he opened it. Surely there was something +there which might tell them of the girl's fate. +Yes, a letter, folded twice, and thus made small enough +to thrust into a pocket of the book; a letter, directed +to Walton Hurst, which had been opened.</p> + +<p>Lady Rose knew the writing, came close to Sir Noel, +and read the letter over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank God! Thank God, I have not murdered +them both," she cried, snatching the letter between her +shaking hands, and kissing it wildly. "If her life has +been sacrificed, his honor is saved."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel took the letter from her and read it a second +time. It ran thus:<span class="pagenum">[432]</span></p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">My Young Master</span>:—I was wrong to write you +that letter; but the fever was on me, and it came out of +my love and out of my dreams—wild dreams such as +could not have reached me in my senses.</p> + +<p>I am getting well now, and have thought over all +that happened that night till everything is clear in my +mind. This is the way I remember it; but there must +no harm to any one come from what I write. I would +never say a word only to take back the foolish letter I +sent to you. Richard Storms met me as I was crossing +the park on my way back from London that night. +He was in a rage, and said something about you and my +daughter Ruth that angered me in turn. In my wrath I +knocked him down, and went home, sorry that I had +done it, for his father was an old friend, and we had +thoughts of being closer related through the young +people.</p> + +<p>When I got home Ruth seemed shy, and complained +that the lad had forced his company on her, for which +you had chastised him, as he richly deserved. I got +angry again, and went out in haste, meaning to call him +to a sharper account for the slander he had hinted against +her and you. It may be that in my heart I was blaming +you. It seems as if I never could have believed ill of +you as I feel now; but the young man's words rang in +my ears when I went out, and I might have been rough +even with you if we had met first.</p> + +<p>Well, I hurried on by the great cedars, thinking to +meet Richard on his way home. When I got into the +deep shadows a man came suddenly under the branches +between me and the light. I saw the face; it was only +a second that the moonlight struck it, but I saw the face. +It was Richard Storms. I was turning to meet him +<span class="pagenum">[433]</span>when he lifted a gun and fired. I felt a flash of fire go +through me. I leaped toward him, but he pushed me +aside, and reeling till my face turned the other way, I +fell. Then it was that I saw you in the edges of the +moonlight. The other face came and went like lightning. +It was yours that rested in my mind and went with me +through the fever, but it was Storms that shot the gun; +it was his face I saw, his voice I heard mingling curses +with blows as I lay bleeding on the ground. The man +who shot me and beat you down with the butt of his +gun was Richard Storms, the son of my old friend. I am +sure of this now, having questioned Ruth about the gun. +He brought it to the house that night, and she saw it +behind the door after you thrust him from the house and +left it yourself, but when I went out no such thing was +there. I had no weapon in my hand that night.</p> + +<p>Storms must have come back and got the gun when +Ruth saw him peering through the window. Do you +know, I think it was not me he meant to shoot. More +likely he was waiting for you, and only found out his +mistake when I was down and you came in sight; for I +can remember a great oath breaking over me, after I fell—and +you were near us then.</p> + +<p>I am not strong, and this writing tires me; but some +how I feel that it must be done, or mischief may come +from what I wrote in my fever; which I pray you +to forgive.</p> + +<p>I know you will burn this letter with the other when +you have got it by heart. It must not be brought against +the young man, for he was used roughly that night; and +both blows and kicks are apt to turn some brave men +into wild beasts.</p> + +<p>He was to have wedded my daughter Ruth, but she<span class="pagenum">[434]</span> +could not bear to hear of it; and when my fever left all +these things clear, I broke the old pledge. He loved my +Ruth, and this was a blow to him. I wish no greater +harm than this to the young man; and beg you to keep +all that is against him a secret, for his father's sake.</p> + +<p class="author"> +Always your faithful servant,<br> +<span class="smcap ">William Jessup</span>.<br> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>A great change came over Sir Noel's countenance as he +read this letter. He did not thoroughly understand it; +but Lady Rose was better informed. How Storms came +in possession of the first letter, she could not tell; but +that he had used it for his own interest, and the ruin of +an innocent man, she saw clear enough. In a few brief +sentences she explained this to Sir Noel. Then he understood +the persecution that had driven Ruth to the fatal +step she had taken.</p> + +<p>There was nothing more to learn at the lake house, +and with heavy hearts those three persons left it, turning +their steps toward "The Rest." Mrs. Hipple, made +thoughtful by experience, folded the garments they had +found there, and carried them away under her shawl.</p> + +<p>As Sir Noel was about to mount the terrace steps, a lad +in uniform came up the chestnut avenue, and gave him a +telegram, which he tore open with more agitation than +such papers had ever produced in him before.</p> + +<blockquote><p>A young relative of ours, the daughter of William +Jessup, a gardener at 'Norston's Rest,' is with us, in a +state of health that requires immediate attention. I found +her, by accident, in the office of the Australian line of +packets. She had taken a passage, but not in her own +name, and I could only persuade her to go home with +me by a promise that I must break, or permit her +<span class="pagenum">[435]</span>to depart as she evidently wishes, unknown to her +friends. I send this in urgent haste, and confiding in +your discretion.</p></blockquote> + +<p>The signature was that of a young artist, whose name +was attached to a picture of some promise that Sir Noel +had bought because he remembered that the person was a +connection of Jessup's.</p> + +<p>With his pencil Sir Noel wrote a brief reply, which the +boy carried away with him.</p> + +<p>Two events of unusual importance happened at +"Norston's Rest," the next day. It was given out in +the village that Sir Noel and his family had gone up to +the London house that the young man might be nearer +his physicians, and that Lady Rose had taken Ruth Jessup +with her, thinking that change of scene might soften +the melancholy into which she had fallen. This sudden +movement hardly found general discussion, when something +more terrible filled the public mind. The body +of Richard Storms had been found floating in the Black +Lake, three days after Sir Noel's departure. It had evidently +risen from the depths, and become entangled in +the broken timbers still swaying from the balcony. +When he failed to return from the fair, as he had +promised, his mother, remembering the weird visitor +who had called her up in the dead of the night, betook +herself to the lake, and was at last joined by the old +farmer, whose distress was even greater than her own, for +he had a deeper knowledge of the young man's character, +and this gave ground for fears of which she, kind woman, +was made ignorant by her deep motherly love.</p> + +<p>Thus fear-haunted, these two old people wandered +about the lake day after day, until, one morning, they +found a group of men upon the bank, talking solemnly<span class="pagenum">[436]</span> +together, and looking down upon the broken timbers +still weltering in the water, as if some painful interest +had all at once been attached to them.</p> + +<p>When these people saw the old man and woman +coming toward them, they shrunk back and left a passage +by which they could pass into the old building, but +no one spoke a word.</p> + +<p>No noise, no outcry came from those two people when +they saw their only son lying upon the bench where the +neighbors had laid him down; but when one of them +went in, troubled by the stillness, he found the old man +standing against the wall, mournful and dumb, looking +upon the dead face, as if the whole world had for him +been cast down there. He did not even seek to comfort +the poor mother, who was kneeling by the bench, +with her arms clasped about all that was left of her son, +unconscious that his dripping garments were chilling her +bosom through to the heart, or that the face to which +she laid hers with such pathetic mournfulness had been +frozen to marble in the depths of the lake.</p> + +<p>As the kind neighbor drew near and would gladly +have offered consolation, the poor old woman looked up +with a piteous smile on her lips and said:</p> + +<p>"My brave, brave lad lost his life in saving a poor +creature, who would have been drowned but for him."</p> + +<p>Then she dropped her face again, and was still as the +dead she embraced; but as she spoke of her son's bravery, +those scant, hot tears that agony forces on old age came +to her eyes and burned there.<span class="pagenum">[437]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXXIV" id="CHAPTER_LXXIV"></a>CHAPTER LXXIV.</h2> + +<p class="h3">COMING HOME.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><b>UNCLE</b>, I have brought you a daughter."</p> + +<p>Sir Noel looked up from the volume he was +reading, and saw Lady Rose standing before him, flushed, +agitated, but with a glow of exaltation in her eyes that +he had never seen there before. With one arm she encircled +the waist of Walton's bride, the other hand she +extended in the grace of unconscious pleading; for the +young creature she more than half supported was trembling +like a leaf. Touched with exquisite pity, Sir Noel +arose, drew Ruth gently toward him, and kissed her on +the forehead.</p> + +<p>"We shall have Walton better now," he said, leading +her to a seat. "With two such nurses he can have no +excuse for keeping ill."</p> + +<p>"Is he so ill?" questioned Ruth, blushing crimson at +the sound of her own voice. "I thought, I hoped—"</p> + +<p>"We all hoped that the short journey up from 'Norston's +Rest' would do him good rather than harm; but he +has been more than usually restless," said Sir Noel. "If +Lady Rose will excuse me, I will have the pleasure of +taking you to his room myself."</p> + +<p>Ruth stood up, blushing because of her own eager +wishes; ready to cry because of the quiet gentleness with +which her intrusion into that family had been received. +Never, in all her short life, had she so keenly felt the +great social barriers that she had overleaped. If reproaches +and coldness had met her on the threshold of +that house, she could have borne them better than the<span class="pagenum">[438]</span> +kindness with which Lady Rose had introduced her, and +the gracious reception awarded her by Sir Noel; for she +could not help feeling how much had been suppressed +and forgiven by that proud man, before he could thus +offer to present her with his own hand to his son.</p> + +<p>When Sir Noel offered his arm, she took it for the first +time in her life, with such trembling that the old man +patted the hand that scarcely dared to touch him, and +smiled as he looked down upon her.</p> + +<p>They went up a flight of steps and through several +rooms. The house in Grosvenor Square was by no means +so spacious as "Norston's Rest," but the splendor of its +more modern adornment would have won her admiration +at another time. Now she only thought of the husband +she had fled from, to whom his own father was conducting +her.</p> + +<p>Sir Noel opened a door, paused on the threshold a moment, +and then went into the room where Walton Hurst +was sitting.</p> + +<p>"My son," he said, in his usual quiet voice, "you must +thank Lady Rose for the surprise I bring you. It is +she who has persuaded your wife to come home to us +with a less ceremonious welcome than I was prepared to +give."</p> + +<p>Walton Hurst stood up like a healthy man, for astonishment +had given him fictitious strength; he came forward +at once, reaching out both hands. Sir Noel quietly +withdrew his arm from the hand that had hardly dared +to rest on it, and left the room.</p> + +<p>The marriage of Walton Hurst, only son of Sir Noel +Hurst, of "Norston's Rest," to Miss Ruth Jessup, +daughter of the late William Jessup, was announced in +the <i>Court Journal</i> that week. Some few persons noticed<span class="pagenum">[439]</span> +that the usual details were omitted; but the fact itself +was enough to surprise and interest society, for young +Hurst was considered the best match of the season, and +no one could learn more of the bride than that Sir Noel +was well pleased with the match, and the young lady +herself was the most intimate friend of his lovely ward, +the Lady Rose.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The joy bells were ringing merrily at "Norston's +Rest." Sir Noel and Lady Rose had been down at the +old mansion more than a month, and guests chosen from +the brightest and highest of the land were invited to receive +the young heir and his bride on their return from a +brief wedding tour on the continent. Having once accepted +this fair girl as his daughter, Sir Noel was a man +to stand right nobly by the position he had taken. Born +a gardener's daughter, she was now a Hurst, and must +receive in all things the homage due a lady of "Norston's +Rest."</p> + +<p>For this reason those joy bells were filling the valley +with their sweetest music; for this the streets of the village +were arched with evergreens, and school-children +were busy scattering flowers along the street to be trodden +down by the wheels of the carriage or the hoofs of four +black horses, sent to meet the young couple at the +station.</p> + +<p>It was a holiday in the village. The tenants on the +estate turned out in a body, and were to be entertained +now as they had been when the young heir became of +age.</p> + +<p>The landlady of the "Two Ravens" stood at the inn +door, with her arms full of yellow lilies, hollyhocks and +sweetwilliams, which she lavished in gorgeous masses<span class="pagenum">[440]</span> +on the carriage as it passed. Hurst took up one of the +flowers and gave it to the bride, who held it to her +lips, and smiled pleasantly upon the good friends of her +father as she passed through them.</p> + +<p>When the carriage drew up at "Norston's Rest," Sir +Noel came down the steps, took Ruth upon his arm, and +led her across the great terrace into the hall, where Lady +Rose stood ready to welcome her. In the background +all the servants of the household were assembled, headed +by the steward and Mrs. Mason, both quiet and reverential +in their reception of the bride, as if they had never +seen her before.</p> + +<p>Still, in the good housekeeper's face there was a proud +lighting up of the countenance, that might have been +traced to an inward consciousness that it was her protégée +and goddaughter who was receiving all this welcoming +homage; but from that day no person ever heard Mrs. +Mason allude to the fact, except once, when Ruth addressed +her by the old endearing title, she said, with +simple gravity:</p> + +<p>"Do not tempt a fond old woman to forgot that she is +only housekeeper to the mistress of 'Norston's Rest.'"</p> + +<p>After all the festivities were over, and Ruth was established +in her new position, Lady Rose, who had been +the leading spirit in every social arrangement, came to +Sir Noel in his library one day. There she announced +her resolve to leave "The Rest," and retire to one of her +own estates in another part of England—that which she +had once been willing to bestow on Richard Storms in +ransom of Walton Hurst's honor. The old baronet received +this proposal with even less composure than he +had exhibited when the announcement of his son's marriage +was made to him. With grave and pathetic sadness<span class="pagenum">[441]</span> +he drew the girl toward him and kissed her on the +forehead.</p> + +<p>"I will not ask you to stay, my child," he said, holding +her hands in his until both began to tremble. "I +had hoped I—oh, Rose! your own father could not have +parted with you more unwillingly. It will not seem +like the old place without you to any of us."</p> + +<p>"Yes, oh, yes. They are both so happy—very happy! +Don't you think so? One is not missed much. There, +there, Sir Noel, this parting with you almost makes me +cry!"</p> + +<p>It did bring tears into Sir Noel's eyes—the first that +Lady Rose had ever seen there in her life.</p> + +<p class="h3">THE END.</p> + +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Norston's Rest, by Ann S. Stephens + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NORSTON'S REST *** + +***** This file should be named 37168-h.htm or 37168-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/1/6/37168/ + +Produced by Roberta Staehlin, David Garcia, Matthew Wheaton +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/37168-h/images/cover.jpg b/37168-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..03fb786 --- /dev/null +++ b/37168-h/images/cover.jpg |
