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diff --git a/old/53668-8.txt b/old/53668-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 827508d..0000000 --- a/old/53668-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7837 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Kate Vernon, Vol. 3 (of 3), by Mrs. Alexander - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Kate Vernon, Vol. 3 (of 3) - A tale. In three volumes - -Author: Mrs. Alexander - -Release Date: December 5, 2016 [EBook #53668] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KATE VERNON, VOL. 3 (OF 3) *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne Shell, Christopher Wright, and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net -(This file was produced from images generously made -available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - -HARRY HIEOVER'S - -MOST POPULAR PUBLICATIONS. - - -In 1 Vol. demy 8vo. Price 12_s._ - -SPORTING FACTS AND SPORTING FANCIES. - -BY HARRY HIEOVER, - - Author of 'Stable Talk and Table Talk,' 'The Pocket and the Stud,' - 'The Hunting Field,' 'The Proper Condition for All Horses,' &c. - -"This work will make a valuable and interesting addition to the -sportsman's library."--_Bell's Life_. - -"In addition to the immense mass of practical and useful information -with which this work abounds, there is a refreshing buoyancy and dash -about the style, which makes it as attractive and fascinating as the -pages of the renowned Nimrod himself."--_Dispatch._ - -"It contains graphic sketches of celebrated sporting -characters."--_Sunday Times._ - - -Price 5_s._ with Plates. - -HARRY HIEOVER - -ON THE PROPER CONDITION FOR ALL HORSES. - -"It should be in the hands of all owners of horses."--_Bell's Life._ - -"A work which every owner of a horse will do well to -consult."--_Morning Herald._ - -"Every man who is about purchasing a horse, whether it be hunter, -riding horse, lady's palfrey, or cart horse, will do well to make -himself acquainted with the contents of this book."--_Sporting -Magazine._ - - -Price 4_s._ - -BIPEDS AND QUADRUPEDS. - -BY HARRY HIEOVER. - -"We recommend this little volume for the humanity towards -quadrupeds it advocates, and the proper treatment of them that it -inculcates."--_Bell's Life._ - - -Price 5_s._ - -THE WORLD AND HOW TO SQUARE IT. - -BY HARRY HIEOVER. - - - - -POPULAR NEW WORKS - - -In 3 Vols. Price 2_l._ 2_s._ - -THE HISTORY OF THE - -PAPAL STATES. - -BY J. MILEY, D.D. - -"Dr. Miley supports his positions with a plentitude and profundity -of learning, a force and massive power of reasoning, a perspicuity -of logical prowess, and a felicity of illustration, rarely met in -existence amongst historians of any age."--_Morning Post._ - -"Illustrated by profound learning, deep thought, refined taste, and -great sagacity."--_Dublin Review._ - - -In 2 Vols. with Plates, 30_s._ - -THE SHRINES AND SEPULCHRES OF THE OLD & NEW WORLD. - -BY DR. MADDEN. - -"This work displays both extensive reading and extensive -research."--_Athenĉum._ - - -In 3 Vols. 31_s._ 6_d._, Third Edition. - -THE - -DESPOT OF EASTERN EUROPE. - -By the Author of "The Revelations of Russia." - -"The author has command of information, as well diplomatic as local and -personal. It is powerfully written."--_Examiner._ - -"These volumes should be on the table of every one who hates -oppression."--_Observer._ - - - - -KATE VERNON. - -A Tale. - -_IN THREE VOLUMES._ - -VOL. III. - -LONDON: -THOMAS CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER, -30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE. -1854. - - - - -KATE VERNON. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -NEW SCENES. - - -Kate stood a moment transfixed, as nurse's awful words met her ear, her -eyes riveted on her grandfather, but the repose of his face, almost -reassured her, and, stepping back from Mrs. O'Toole's encircling arms, -she exclaimed, hurriedly, angrily, but in carefully subdued tones-- - -"Be silent, nurse! do not terrify me with such strange words--see, he -is asleep!" - -Nurse's only reply was a burst of tears, as she laid her hand upon that -of the Colonel, the fingers of which gently grasped the arm of the -chair. Kate now bent down to kiss his cheek--but shrunk back from the -icy touch. - -"He has fainted," she exclaimed, looking wildly round at nurse. "Bring -water, and wine--send for Doctor S----." - -"I will, I will, my own child, only don't look at me that away." - -Mrs. O'Toole's violent ringing, soon brought Mrs. Crooks, and the -servant. - -"Go," said Miss Vernon, who, though pale as death, was calm and stern, -"send for Doctor S----, instantly, Colonel Vernon is taken very ill, -he has fainted! see! Nurse thought he was dead, but I forbid any one -uttering that word--until--until--go," she exclaimed, again with the -same suppressed vehemence, with which she had before spoken, "Why do -you stand gazing at me? life or death depends on your speed." - -Both the frightened landlady and servant rushed from the room; and Kate -never stirred from her rigid position beside her grandfather's chair, -never moved a muscle of her face, until the Doctor, who was fortunately -at home, entered, and found them apparently fixed in their several -positions. - -A hasty glance, showed the experienced physician, that it was indeed -but the lifeless clay, round which poor Kate strove to preserve the -quiet, prescribed for a suffering spirit, and turning to Mrs. O'Toole, -he whispered-- - -"Try and get Miss Vernon out of the room." - -Her quick ear caught his words. - -"Why should I go? I can assist you to revive him." - -"But--but--" stammered the doctor, fairly terror struck, at the thought -of all the wild grief implied by her incredulity, "If I do not succeed?" - -"Oh! hush, hush, it is not two hours since he blessed me, and said -he was happy! Grandpapa, do not you hear? it is I--your own Kate! Why -do you make no effort to recover him?" she exclaimed, turning almost -fiercely to the doctor--"Where is your skill? Where is your science?" - -"If you will leave the room," he returned, recovering himself. "I will -do my best, but the consciousness that you, in your extreme anxiety, -are watching me, will paralyse my best efforts." - -"I will go then, and return in a few minutes," said Kate, retiring. - -But these few minutes were employed in stretching the lifeless form on -its bed; and then nurse met her child, in an agony of tears, that told -her better than words could, that she was alone in the world! - -Then, at last she was convinced, she did not faint or weep, but stood -quite still, regardless of the well meant words of those around her, -a sudden tremour passing at intervals through her frame; at last, -turning to those, who pressed near her, she said, in strangely quiet -tones, almost a whisper, but terribly earnest-- - -"Leave me, I wish to be alone." Then seeing they hesitated to leave -her, she repeated with a sudden sharpness of voice and gesture of -dismissal, which long remained in the memories of those who witnessed -it, so expressively did it seem to reject all human aid, or sympathy: -"I wish to be alone!" - -They left her; and sinking on her knees, by the bed, on which lay the -form of him she loved so well, she gave herself up to the first burst -of real grief, that had ever rent her heart, with its wild energy; -before, though there was fear, there was hope, though every nerve -in her delicate frame trembled and shrunk from the expectation of -trials, the nobler spirit dared to contemplate--there was an object -for which to bear them all--an end to be attained. Now she was alone! -with none to live for--none to whom, and for whom she was a world! -He was gone--the kind, the gentle, loving friend; and there lay the -lifeless image of him, whom she had lost, the stately prison-house, -not unworthy its immortal captive, now free, and amid eternal bliss, -perhaps near her, compassionating the sorrow which his already Heaven -taught prescience showed was for her good! and should her life be -henceforth alone? what was to become of her! No longer any reason to -hush regret, lest it might cloud her brow, to catch gladly at hope, the -most uncertain, that she might reflect something of its glad beam! "Yet -I would not recall him, if I could, Oh, God!" was the only ejaculation -that escaped her lips, as her soul lay prostrate beneath the heavy -weight thus laid upon it. The past, the present, all mingled in one -strange chaos, by the pressure of a mighty grief. And the moment that -her grandfather blessed her (scarce four hours ago) was already fixed -amid the great events of the heart, ages back; for sometimes, when -thoroughly roused, and freed an instant from its fetters, the soul -becomes in capacity a reflex of its great original, and in its sight, -also, one day is as a thousand years. - -But with the exhaustion of spirit natural to excitement so strong, came -the wish for human sympathy, without which none can exist; and groping -her way to the door, through the darkness, perceived for the first -time, she opened it, and was caught in the arms of Mrs. O'Toole, who, -with a silent, watchful love, equalled only by Cormac's, waited, humbly -ready, until that love was wanted. - -"You are all that is left me," sobbed the poor girl, as nurse held her -in her arms; and they were the only words that escaped her lips, for -the long hours through which she wept, in unutterable grief. - - * * * * * - -She obeyed all nurse's suggestions with the simplicity of a child, -incapable of thinking for itself; and, at last, that faithful friend -had the satisfaction of seeing her gradually sink into a sleep, still -and heavy, but interrupted with deep sighs, which, at intervals, -unclosed the lovely lips that seemed only formed for joyous smiles. - -Then came the terrible awaking, the first unconscious -exclamation--"Dear nurse, I have had such dreadful dreams!" The sober -sense of waking grief--the struggle to think calmly and resignedly of -all--the partial success--the sudden fresh outburst of sorrow. - -So the day dragged on; and at the same hour at which Kate had last -heard that voice, which had ever spoken fondly to her, a heavy -travelling carriage, drawn by four posters, laden with numerous trunks -and imperials, dashed in hot haste down the quiet little street. It -stopped at the house of mourning; and the next moment, a tall lady, -wrapped in a travelling cloak of velvet and costly furs, throwing back -her veil, grasped Mrs. O'Toole's hand; and, after a piercing glance at -the honest, troubled face before her, exclaimed-- - -"I am too late!" - -"Not to comfort mee darlint, glory be to God! Yer come at last, me -lady! He said you would be here this day." - -"Kate, Miss Vernon, where is she?" said Lady Desmond, in clear, firm -tones, that sounded as if command was natural to them; and passing on -to the stairs. - -"No, no! me sweet child is here." - -And Mrs. O'Toole opened the parlour door, Kate, at the moment, entering -from the inner room. She stopped, for an instant, while Lady Desmond -advanced rapidly, and clasped her to her heart, straining her closely -in her arms. - -"Oh! Georgy," cried Kate, amid her sobs, "you will never hear his voice -again--he is gone! gone before a gleam of hope or prosperity brightened -the sad evening of his life; before I could see him as he was, before -the bitter dregs of the cup of adversity had lost their bitterness by -use. And I could do nothing for him, nothing! Oh, when we parted last, -who, who could have thought, that it would have ended thus?" - -And she pointed expressively to the small, mean room, now dimly -lighted, by the candles, which Mrs. O'Toole scrupulously kept burning -after evening closed. - -Lady Desmond, grasping Kate's hand nervously, walked to the bed-side, -and holding back the folds of her veil, bent reverently over the dead, -for a moment, in silence, then drawing back, broke into an agony of -hysterical tears, that startled Kate, by its vehemence, and brought -nurse rapidly to her side. - -"I feel as if guilty of his death," she repeated. "Why, why, did I -delay my return?" - -"Oh, hush, dearest Georgy, hush," whispered Kate, somewhat calmed, by -witnessing the remorseful emotion of her cousin. "I was wrong to speak -as I did; it was the sharpness of sorrow made me utter such words; God -forgive them, for in my inmost heart I feel that He never punishes, -He only sends messengers after us to keep us in the right path; the -poverty was nothing; and even this! we shall yet understand it all!" - -They stood there in silence, nurse supporting Lady Desmond, who leant -against her, her bonnet thrown aside, her luxuriant black hair drawn -back from her lofty forehead, her large dark eyes dilated, as if her -soul gazed through them far away. Kate, a smile struggling through -the tears streaming from hers, and one hand slightly raised towards -Heaven. The three figures symbolising well, homely humanity, with -its quiet necessary fortitude. Intellect and refinement, with their -larger capacity, for joy or for suffering, and faith, so often almost -extinguished, amid sorrow and doubt, yet still preserving a ray of -everlasting hope. - -But Lady Desmond was overpowered by the fatigue of a rapid and -frequently obstructed journey, performed in a fever of anxiety; and -Kate's attention was beneficially attracted from her all engrossing -subject of thought to her cousin's evident exhaustion. She wished much -to remove Kate at once from what she considered her wretched lodging, -to her hotel, but this Kate resolutely refused to comply with. - -"It is the last sad duty I can pay him," she said, "not to quit his -remains until they are carried to their last home!" - -Lady Desmond, therefore, determined to stay with her; and Mrs. Crook's -establishment were put to their wits' end by the mingled excitement of -a death, and a ladyship in a carriage-and-four. - -Recovered from her fatigue, by a night's rest, Lady Desmond devoted -herself to the care of her young cousin, with all the eagerness of a -passionate nature, remorseful for the past; but though she hushed -Kate to sleep each night in her arms, she performed every task that -could by possibility devolve on Miss Vernon, such as attending to the -details of the funeral, &c., with a diligence and tact that spared -Kate many a pang; it was the latter who, amid her own absorbing grief, -found time and gentle wisdom, wherewith to calm the sudden bursts of -sorrow which often welled up from the heart of that proud, but generous -and impulsive woman, who ever rushing into extremes, found food for -self-reproach in every little incident which either nurse or Kate -betrayed, of their life, for the last year. - -"It was so obstinate, so unkindly obstinate of you not to join me at -Florence; God only knows how much it might have spared; yet that was -no excuse for my selfish negligence; though, Kate, I had powerful -inducements not to return to England, I will--perhaps I may yet tell -you them, and you will then understand me." - -The day after the funeral, that renewal of death and sorrow, Kate -readily acceded to her cousin's wish to leave the spot, no longer -sanctified by the inanimate presence of him they had lost. And it was -with a dull feeling of weariness, as if even the capacity of suffering -had been worn out, that she threw herself into the carriage that was to -take her away from the scene of her late bereavement. All was now over, -nothing more to be done; and all she longed for was silence, solitude, -and sleep. - -"Come to the hotel as soon as you possibly can. Miss Vernon looks -terribly cut up; she will want you to comfort her," was Lady Desmond's -last injunction to Mrs. O'Toole, who remained behind to settle all the -final affairs of packing and payment. - -"I will, me lady," returned Mrs. O'Toole, who had found some -consolation in the handsome appointments of the hearse and mourning -coaches, which the day before had carried the remains of her beloved -master to the grave; and re-entering the house, she immediately applied -herself to her task. "How'll I iver get the dog away?" she asked, when -about to depart. - -"I'm sure I don't know," replied Mrs. Crook; "he's done nothing but -wander about the house all day, and whine so piteous-like every time he -went into the poor old gentleman's room!" - -"Faith, I thought he'd have ate up the undertaker's min whin they kem -into the room. Ah, God help us, is it any wondher me sweet young lady's -heart is broke, whin the dumb baste itself knows what we have lost; -where is he now?" - -"I don't know, I'm sure; I've not seen him these two hours." - -Mrs. O'Toole went in search of him to what had been the Colonel's -bed-room; and there, stretched by the bed he had so long watched, lay -the old hound, his limbs quivering in the agonies of death. - -"Och! Cormac! you're not dyin'?" - -The noble dog strove to raise his head in answer to her voice, but it -fell back, and he was dead. - -"Och, Cormac! me poor Cormac!" cried Mrs. O'Toole, her scarce dried -tears flowing afresh; "but you wur the thrue hearted dog! Sure, there -was somethin' inside iv ye far betther than many a man's heart. Och, -how'll I iver tell Miss Kate that ye couldn't stop afther yer ould -masther was gone?" - -But Lady Desmond wisely determined that Kate should not hear of -Cormac's death until she made enquiries for him; and Kate lay in -perfect quiet for several days, rarely speaking, and never alluding to -the sad scenes she had so lately gone through, though often the large -tears would pour unconsciously down her cheeks, and when, at last, -the intelligence of poor Cormac's death was communicated to her, she -received it with a burst of grief, seemingly disproportioned to the -occasion. All her sorrow was revived by the death of this faithful -follower, so closely associated in her mind, not only with her lamented -grandfather, but with her own earliest and happiest days. - -One morning, as Lady Desmond and nurse were standing in silent concern, -by her bed-side, noticing sadly the deep traces of grief on her young -face, she suddenly roused herself from the species of lethargy into -which she had fallen, and stretching out her hand to Lady Desmond, -said-- - -"Forgive me, Georgina, forgive me, nurse, I am very selfish and wrong -to lie here so indolently; I will endeavour to do better, to be -resigned. I will get up and go out in the carriage with you, Georgy, if -you wish." - -From that day, Kate strove diligently to keep her self-imposed promise, -and gradually time, the healer, accustomed her to think, with calm, -though unutterably tender sadness, of the dear and venerated relative -she had lost. - -But she almost loathed the state and luxury amid which she now lived, -remembering the petty privations which had depressed and mortified the -last weary hours of his life. Often the erring child of earth, groping -in the dim twilight of imperfect faith, would raise her heart to Heaven -in silent supplication for forgiveness, at these half involuntary -murmurs; it is so hard to believe that the sorrows laid upon a beloved -and revered object, are not "too heavy." We all know the deep-rooted -sin and error of our _own_ hearts, which lie hidden from mortal eye, -how much they require chastisement and guidance, but the life that to -us seems blameless, the kindly nature, to our eyes, a model for us to -follow! Oh, how inscrutable seem the trials we could comprehend if -directed to our own discipline. - -It was with a stronger sensation of pleasure than she had known for -many days, that Kate heard her cousin propose their removal from the -mighty capital, now rapidly gathering together its beauty and its -strength, its fashion and its political hosts. - -"Is there any place you would prefer, dear Kate," she asked, one -evening as they sat together, after their quickly despatched dinner, -(Lady Desmond had, after much solicitation, consented to accompany an -old Neapolitan acquaintance to the opera, and was now waiting for her -friend's carriage.) - -"No, none," replied Kate, indolently, "all I care for is to leave -London; though, dearest Georgy, it is by no means insupportable to me, -if you wish to stay." - -"It has no attraction for me," said Lady Desmond, "Ireland would be -painful to you now, and though I long to take you abroad, you will -enjoy a visit to France or Germany much more a few months hence; -besides, I would rather not leave England at present. - -"Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell was sitting with me this morning," she -resumed, after a pause, during which she played thoughtfully with -the tassels of her Cashmere cloak. "You don't know her, she was -related to poor Sir Thomas, and beside that, her husband was an old -brother-in-arms of his. When General Macdonnell died, his widow was -left almost penniless, and so they gave her apartments at Hampton Court -Palace; she tells me it is a pleasant, quiet place for a month or two; -pretty rides and drives near town if you want to see any one, or any -thing--out of the way if you are misanthropically inclined. In short, -she is very anxious to get me down there; she is in wretched health, -and if it is practicable, I should like to gratify her; she was most -kind to me, poor thing, in her palmy days, when I was an inexperienced -bride. Would you like the locale, Kate?" - -"Who, I?" said Kate, absently, "yes, very much." - -"Well then, I will go down there to-morrow, and see the place, and -Lady Elizabeth; to tell the truth, for I must not take credit for more -philanthropy than I possess, though I do not wish to remain in London, -I feel a reluctance to leave its neighbourhood--it is strange," and -Lady Desmond relapsed into silence and thought, a look of impatience -slightly contracting her brow, and changing the expression of her -resolute mouth to one of dissatisfaction and unrest. - -Kate gazed at her in the indolent speculation of a mind too depressed -for activity of thought, as to what cause of vexation could possibly -ruffle the prosperous current of her cousin's life. - -"Mr. ----'s carriage," announced a spruce waiter. - -And kissing her fair god-child, and bidding her an affectionate -good-night, Lady Desmond swept out of the room, leaving Kate to the -care of Mrs. O'Toole. - -In less than a fortnight after this conversation, the cousins were -settled in a large old fashioned house, adjoining the Palace of Hampton -Court, Lady Desmond's well filled purse, and her major domo's tact -and intelligence, supplying all the deficiencies of a ready-furnished -mansion, with the celerity of modern magic. The above mentioned -functionary, an old attendant of the late Sir Thomas, was, as Lady -Desmond termed him, her steward, rather than her servant; he arranged -her household, paid her bills, and tyrannised over her in a thousand -ways, to which, in full consciousness of her weakness, she languidly -submitted. - -April was well advanced when they took possession of their new abode, -and most gladly did Kate exchange her daily lifeless airing in the -Park, for walks amid the thousand blossoms which adorned the Palace -Gardens, with all the freshness and perfume of early spring. - -The stately parterres, the mossy grass, and the first delicate -exquisite green of the trees, the lovely avenue of horse chesnuts in -the neighbouring park, all were new to her, all unlike any scene -she was accustomed to, and unconnected in her mind with suffering; -passionately enjoying the sights and sounds, and scent of a garden, -at this, its loveliest season, she felt drawn out of herself by the -contemplation of so much beauty; grief was softened to sadness, by this -evidence of Almighty love! the past engrossed her less completely, it -was so uncongenial with the smiles and tears of April, the anticipative -joyousness of all nature, and no longer apprehensive of losing -self-command by approaching the subject uppermost in her thoughts, she -found a quiet pleasure in constant talk of her grandfather, of his -opinions and sayings, and even of his death with a composure that might -have misled a superficial observer as to her real feelings. - -She now gathered courage to write a long descriptive letter to Mr. -and Mrs. Winter, in return for the truly affectionate missives they -had written, on hearing, through Langley, of the Colonel's death. -Some other writing, also, devolved upon her, replies to _relations_, -cognisant of her existence, since she had become the inmate of the -prosperous Lady Desmond. These were soon despatched, and she felt -somewhat of a blank from the absence of all necessary employment. -She still claimed immunity from the little ceremonious, scandalous -re-unions of the palace; and Lady Desmond, far too impatient by nature -to endure restraint, made her gentle cousin's mourning an excuse for -rejecting the distasteful invitations. Indeed Kate could not help -observing, that, for an invalid, Lady Elizabeth took a wonderful -interest in mundane affairs; and, although she had recommended Hampton -Court to Lady Desmond, as a quiet retired place, she was perpetually -suggesting a little society, as a panacea for every ill, and she felt -an instinctive dislike to her cousin's noble relative, who always -addressed her with the same carressing condescension, she might have -shown to a pet terrier, belonging to her respected _wealthy_ kinswoman. - -"A thousand apologies, dear Kate," cried Lady Desmond, as she made -her appearance one lovely May evening, half an hour after their usual -time for dinner, "I fear I have kept you waiting, but I could not -tear myself from Mrs Fordyce and her lovely flowers; you must go with -me on my next visit, her villa is so perfect, and Richmond looked -so bright." Kate smiled, pleased to see her cousin so animated, and -secretly wondering what could be the reason of the joy that sparkled -in her large, dark eyes, and lent so much of soul and brilliancy to -her generally proud, calm countenance. "And," continued Lady Desmond, -"as the carriage turned out of the gate, it was stopped by almost the -last person I expected to meet on the banks of the Thames, an Italian -acquaintance, the Wentworths and myself used to see a great deal of, -at Naples. You have heard of Lord Effingham?" - -Kate shook her head. - -"He was universally known in Italy, and here too; he seemed quite as -much astonished to meet me, and promised, he would ride over some -morning--he said, he had a villa on the Thames, I think, but I was in -too great a hurry to attend." - -Lady Desmond was more than usually affectionate to Kate that evening, -stroking her glossy hair, with the fondness of an elder sister, -and exerting all her powers of persuasion to induce her to join a -tea-party, at Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell's; and Kate, fearful of being a -check upon her cousin's amusements, and conscious that she had no right -to exclusive self-indulgence, consented; nor could she regret having -done so, as Lady Desmond appeared to be much gratified. - -The day after this unwonted exertion she had taken a long walk with -Lady Desmond, who, in her happiest mood, had entered into a charming -description of her life in Italy, of Rome, and her impression of it--of -the high opinion entertained by various Englishmen (whom she had -met abroad), of rank and reputation, for Colonel Vernon; and Kate's -heart and intellect alike gratified, submitted with reluctance to her -cousin's decision, that she had walked enough, and must rest at home, -while she paid a promised visit at the palace. - -Lady Desmond, after opening a box of new books and periodicals, just -arrived, stepped through the window, to a balcony, communicating by -a flight of steps with the garden, and passed through a side gate -directly into the palace grounds. - -Kate took up Dickens's last number, and was soon wrapt in the perusal -of it. Slightly fatigued by exercise, she leaned back in her fauteuil, -one hand buried in the rich masses of her hair, on which the light -threw a thousand golden gleams--the other holding the book, she -read against the arm of the chair, on which her right elbow rested; -one fairy foot stretched out upon a tiny ottoman; an air of profound -repose, and perfect quiet pervading the slight figure and sweet face, -always grave in silence, and now more so than ever; while the soft -liquid eyes, with their thoughtful depth of expression, rivetted on the -page before them, were brightened by the faint tinge of rose called up -by her animating walk. - -Lady Desmond might have been gone about half an hour, when a gentleman, -mounted on a dark brown horse, of great beauty, rode up to the hall -door, and dismounting, wound the reins round some of the spiral -ornaments of the old fashioned iron railing. - -"Is Lady Desmond at home?" - -"Yes, sir." And the stranger followed the servant up the broad stairs. -"Who shall I say, sir?" - -"Lord Effingham." - -But the large, low drawing-room, was unoccupied, and placing a chair, -the footman retired to announce the visitor. He stood a moment after -he was thus left, then strolled to the window, which looked towards -the green; but finding little to interest him in the prospect, after a -careless glance at one or two pictures, and some exquisite miniatures, -which lay on the tables, he walked through the open door, leading -into a smaller room within, which opened on the park; and here he -stood, as if rooted to the ground--his every faculty absorbed in the -contemplation of the living picture before him--till Kate, with that -instinct which whispers to us, when a fellow mortal is near, slowly -raised her fringed lids, and looked at him a moment, bewildered; -then rising, her natural, well-bred, self-possession, heightened by -the calmness and indifference consequent on pre-occupation, and the -stillness that follows deep emotion-- - -"I fear I kept you too long waiting; my cousin, Lady Desmond has -unfortunately just left me, to pay a visit at the Palace. I will send -for her." And she laid her hand on the bell-pull. - -The stranger stood a moment, in silence, an unwonted look of -irresolution, on his haughty countenance; then, bowing with profound -respect, he begged pardon for his intrusion, in soft and refined tones, -which, as also his face, grew strangely familiar to Kate's memory, as -she looked and listened. - -"Pray do not give Lady Desmond the trouble of returning," he said, with -a degree of hesitation, marvellously at variance with his air of _un -grand seigneur_. - -Here a servant entered. - -"Her ladyship is not at home, my lord, I did not know she had gone out -again." - -"I see her returning across the garden," said Miss Vernon, "she will be -here immediately," and pointing to a chair, she bent her head gravely -to the visitor, and left the room. - -He remained gazing after her, then muttering to himself, "most -surpassingly novel-like, by Minerva," turned to greet Lady Desmond as -she entered, with an easy grace and quiet firmness of manner, very -different from the demeanour he had exhibited to her gentle, unassuming -cousin. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -LADY DESMOND. - - -A sketch of the life and character of the lady, whose name stands at -the head of this chapter, is necessary for the right understanding -of what follows; so while she talks of Italian skies, and her -reminiscences of Naples with her reserved visitor, whose well timed -observations and profound attention drew forth her most brilliant -conversational powers, we will draw upon the reader's imagination, and -transport her or him, to the West of Ireland, twenty years back from -the period of which we write. Dungar was then at its highest point of -gaiety and apparent prosperity, when intelligence reached Colonel -Vernon of the death, at sea, of a certain Lieutenant O'Brien, of whom -he had an indistinct recollection, as having incurred the displeasure -and disapprobation of a large circle of relatives, amongst whom the -Colonel himself was numbered, by eloping, and consequent marriage, with -a very beautiful but low-born and penniless girl. - -Of course the hundred cousins, never having done anything, "worthy -of death or bonds," themselves, were unanimous as to their right of -casting, not only the first, but the last stone at the imprudent -couple, who were left to expiate in unpitied and unmitigated poverty -the unpardonable error they had committed. - -Colonel Vernon's knowledge of O'Brien's circumstances was very -limited; he knew he had lost his wife when their only child was still -a mere baby, and he had, more than once, unsought, sent handsome -presents to the improvident father; but the news of his decease was -soon forgotten, in the terrible affliction which threw a shadow over -Dungar, for many months. The Colonel's eldest son, the only survivor -of three children, a wild, extravagant young scapegrace, of whom -none, save his wife and his father, prophesied good, was drowned in -some fishing expedition, a sudden squall having capsized his boat. -Kate was born a few weeks after her unfortunate father was lost, and, -although Mrs. Vernon for her child's sake, strove to drag on a saddened -and debilitated existence, she died while Kate was yet too young to -remember a mother's caresses. - -The Colonel was just beginning to rally from the severe trial which -had robbed him of a son, who, though often a source of anxiety and -mortification, was still very dear to him, when some gossiping guest -mentioned having seen "that unfortunate O'Brien's little daughter" -at the house of an aunt, whose close connection with the deceased -Lieutenant, could not permit her to ignore the demand of a much -enduring school-mistress, that Miss O'Brien should be removed, as she -could not afford to encumber herself with a young lady who had no -claims on her charity. "You may imagine the sort of life the unhappy -little devil leads," concluded the Colonel's informant, "snubbed, by -her aunt, cuffed by her cousins, a perfect _souffre douleur_ for the -whole family." - -Colonel Vernon made no remark at the time, but the picture of the -little orphan, thus carelessly drawn, sank deep into his kindly heart, -already softened by his recent bereavement. - -A hospitable invitation was despatched for the friendless girl, and -Georgina O'Brien was soon established in what proved to be her happy -home. The Colonel's natural kindness, first attracted to her because -she stood in need of it, was confirmed by the little girl's winning -ways and dauntless spirit. She was about twelve years old when she -first made her appearance at Dungar; tall, thin, sallow, her pale face -looked all eyes, and strangers were almost startled at the wild, shy, -proud, restlessness of those large, dark orbs that appeared constantly -on the alert to resent insult or fly from injury. Gradually all this -softened in the balmy atmosphere of gentleness and good breeding, which -was soon imbibed by the young stranger, whose bearing, from the first, -though hers had been a childhood of galling poverty, bespoke an innate -grandeur and dignity, inexpressibly attractive to her patrician host. - -Soon it became a pleasing divertissement to the Colonel's sombre -thoughts, to teach Georgy her lessons, and undo much that had been done -at Fogarty's "select establishment," Mellefort View, Kingstown. He -found an apt pupil, though scarcely so diligent as she proved to Pat -Costello, the huntsman, who, in rapturous admiration of her firm seat, -steady hand, and intuitive comprehension of his instructions, exclaimed -to the whipper. "Faith, Miss Georgy's the raal ould stock; sure enough, -it comes quite nathral to her to ride, there's nothin', good nor bad, -would stop her; if any one would take Craig na Dhioul, be the powers -she'd rise her horse at Croagh Pathrick!" - -To the Colonel, the huntsman, nurse, and little Kate, the whole stream -of her affections flowed; but though, she would willingly send the -greater part of all that she possessed as gifts to her cousins, who -had tyrannized over and insulted her; the air of supreme indifference, -of quiet civility with which she treated them, on those rare occasions -when they met, was much more calculated to impress them with the idea, -that they were far too insignificant for their misconduct to occupy her -memory than that they were forgiven. Indeed Mrs. O'Toole used often to -say that, "though she would lay down her life for a friend, the devil -himself could not be more scornful to an inemy." - -After young Mrs. Vernon's death, the Colonel engaged a governess of -higher acquirements than could have been necessary for his baby -grand-child, in order that the Lieutenant's orphan might have the -advantages of a good education; but amid the irregularity of a -household, without a female head, Georgy's imperious ways, and resolute -will, enabled her to gain a degree of authority, marvellous in one so -young, and displeasing to many of the old retainers, who, nevertheless, -bore this assumption of authority, on the part of a dependent, far -more unmurmuringly than a similar class in England, would have done. -The rigid maxim of working for oneself, however incontrovertible, -and admirably suited to national independence, and advancement, is -capable of some cruel and unjust applications; and if the sense of -independence may be somewhat wanting, in Ireland, there is, at all -events, more indulgence--more tolerance--more kindliness for those, -with whom fortune has dealt hardly; and it was seldom--very seldom, -even Miss O'Brien's keen glance, rendered by early experience morbidly -quick at discovering an insult, could perceive even covert disrespect. -And so she progressed into luxuriantly beautiful girlhood, unpruned, -almost unchecked; already ambitious, she knew not for what--already -pining to leave the happy valley, where she had found so tranquil a -haven, from the rude storms that shook her infancy--the recollection -of the sufferings, and mortifications of her early youth; had sunk -deep into her proud heart, and longed to obtain some vantage ground, -secured and self-acquired, from which she might look down upon the -past--some social eminence, independent even of her kind, beloved, -self-constituted guardian. Nor did she long revolve these wishes, in -silent, wistful reverie, amongst the bold cliffs, or in the deep, shady -glens, with which the country about Dungar abounded, and which might -have taught her truer and purer aspirations. - -Kate was a mere plaything--confidante, she had none--she was too young -to find in books, sufficient companionship; when just as the dearth -of excitement, and occupation was most oppressive, Major General Sir -Thomas Desmond, K.C.B., arrived on a visit to Colonel Vernon. - -There was a scarcity of ladies at Dungar, when Sir Thomas Desmond made -his appearance; and the Colonel, banishing Georgina, as too young to -take any part in society, to Kate's particular region, the nursery and -school-room, collected a shooting party for the General's entertainment. - -It was therefore more than probable, that he would leave, without ever -encountering the "concealed jewel," of the old mansion, but it was -otherwise fated. - -Wearied of her unusual seclusion, Miss O'Brien, one fine autumn -morning, having watched the departure of the whole party, to shoot -or fish, summoned her faithful squire, Pat Costello, and mounting a -favourite hunter of the Colonel's, started on a long ride over the -wildest part of the wild country round. Occupied by her own thoughts, -she forgot time and distance, nor was it till honest Pat ventured to -hint, that "maybe, Miss Kate would be cryin' for her," that she thought -of returning. - -"It must be getting late, Pat--see, the sun is behind Craughmore." - -"It is so, miss." - -"Let us cross the Priest's field, and get into the lawn that way, the -mare will take any of those fences--eh, Pat?" - -"Is it the mare? God bless ye, she'd walk over them without knowing it, -miss." - -Miss O'Brien turned her horse's head without reply, and gradually -quickening her pace, from a trot to a canter, from a canter to a -gallop, finding a wild pleasure, in the rapid and easy movement of the -beautiful animal, on which she was mounted, cleared the last fence -which separated the priest's domains, from her guardian's, just as Sir -Thomas Desmond, and two or three other gentlemen, the latest of the -party were hastening their return to dinner, after a capital day's -sport. - -"Ha! Colonel," exclaimed Sir Thomas, who narrowly escaped being -overturned. "The race of Amazons is not yet extinct in the west, I -perceive." - -"Georgina!" cried the Colonel. "I had no idea you were out, and on -Brown Bess too! She will pull your arms off, my dear girl. Pat, I'm -surprised you would let Miss O'Brien ride so fiery an animal." - -"Do not blame Pat, dearest Colonel--of course he did as I liked; -besides, I can ride every horse in your stable." - -"And Pat would be more than mortal if he could refuse your commands," -quoth the gallant General, with the gay manner, so often assumed by -gentlemen of a certain age, to very young girls. - -"Sir Thomas Desmond, my dear Georgy, is returning thanks that his life -was spared, in that desperate leap of yours." - -"I fear I nearly rode over you," said she, addressing the veteran, who -stood gazing with admiration at her beautiful face, glowing with the -rich color, imparted by her gallop--her luxuriant black hair falling -in masses from under her hat, and her large dark eyes beaming with the -excitement of her own thoughts, though little shown by the careless -ease of her manner. "I fear I almost rode over you." - -"Pray do not mention it; what is an old general more or less, compared -to the gratification of so charming a young lady's taste for crossing -the country?" - -"You will forgive me?" said she smiling. - -"Georgy, you know Mr. ----, and Lord Arthur," said the Colonel, waving -his hand towards the other gentlemen of the party, and Miss O'Brien -acknowledged them with a careless grace, a certain, wild, natural -dignity, that did not escape the observant Sir Thomas. - -From this time, the General constantly, and avowedly sought the -society of his host's _protégée_; and she, pleased by his kindly -admiration, and flattered by the notice of an individual in his -distinguished position, found a new charm in the rides and walks she -was beginning to tire of. - -But never, in her dreams of the future, had she an instant thought of -using matrimony as a stepping stone to position; and the pleasant, -polite _Chevalier Bayard_, but elderly General, whom she looked -upon as a second Colonel Vernon, and of whom, in a short time she -made a confidant, was the last person she would have dreamt of -espousing--meantime Sir Thomas prolonged his visit, and when at length -he departed, leaving Georgina, inconsolable for his loss--it was only -for a short period. - -His return was heralded by the announcement in Saunders' Newspaper of -the death of the Dowager Countess of C----, "who has, we understand -bequeathed large estates, both here and in England, to her ladyship's -nephew, Sir Thomas Desmond, K.C.B., who served with great distinction -at----, &c., &c." - -Miss O'Brien, overjoyed as she was to see him again, could not help -being struck by an indefinable change of manner in her faithful -ally. He seemed more deferential and less gaily cordial; still she -was unspeakably astonished, when, after a few words of, to her, -unintelligible preamble, Colonel Vernon, in a private and solemn -interview, informed her that Sir Thomas Desmond had made proposals to -him for her hand, as her guardian and next friend. - -"I confess I was a good deal startled when he broached the subject," -continued the Colonel; "nevertheless, Georgy, I would have you -weigh the proposition; there are few men who would show such -disinterestedness as to fly back to lay his newly-acquired fortune at -the feet of an obscure though very charming girl; and although the -disparity--" - -"I have made up my mind," said Miss O'Brien, deliberately, as if of -her own thoughts, and deaf to the Colonel--"I will accept him." - -"But," returned the Colonel, not quite satisfied with this hasty -decision, "have you thought of the consequences of a marriage with a -man old enough to be your father? can you give him your whole heart? -Take a little time, dear Georgy. You have, I trust, a comfortable home -here, where you will be always welcome; do not rush on anything that -may hereafter prove repugnant; are your affections your own? is--" - -"Dear, kind, considerate guardian, yes. Who could I have lost them to? -The young lordlings, the county squires, who assiduously avoid the -penniless girl, too well protected to be trifled with? no, I never yet -thought of loving Sir Thomas; but I will love him heartily; he has the -soul of a man, and dares to consult his heart in his choice of a wife. -I have something in common with such a soul; I will make him happy, -ay, and proud too, though his lot may be cast amongst the nobles of the -land." - -And drawing her splendid form to its full height, she glanced proudly -at the opposite mirror. - -"Then I may tell Sir Thomas you accept him? With your proper -appreciation of his worth you will be a happy woman; I congratulate -you, my dear love." - -And they were married; and Kate was bridesmaid; the tenantry were -feasted; bonfires blazed, &c., &c. - -But did the young and beautiful bride find her heart thus obedient -to her will? Heaven alone knows. During the eight or nine years of -their union, however, Sir Thomas and Lady Desmond led a halcyon life; -and if she ever felt a void in her brilliant existence, she scarce -had time, amid her varied pleasures or occupations, to note it. True -and deep was the sorrow with which she mourned for the kind husband, -the considerate friend, for whom alone she seemed to live; but these -long years of unbroken prosperity had not softened the imperious will -which distinguished her girlhood; while they somewhat tainted, with -their hardening influence, the warmth of heart formerly so true and -so unselfish. Meantime, the full leisure of an unoccupied spirit was -devoted to the cultivation of intellect, more brilliant than profound, -and accustomed to scorn, as interested, the motives of the other sex, -her fancy was still unawakened, her strong, deep passions still slept, -when the fated current of her life led her to Naples. - -At this time, Lord Effingham was the engrossing subject of scandal and -gossip at Naples; his luxurious villa, rarely opened to any, save a -few select companions, his unrivalled yacht, his strange and almost -lawless doings, indicative of a character half cynic, half epicurean, -but wholly English in its energy and profusion, each furnished an -inexhaustible theme of wonder and exaggeration, to the opera boxes -and conversaziones. Rarely he honoured the _beau-monde_ of Naples -with his presence; but shortly after Lady Desmond's arrival, some -national anniversary dinner, at the English Ambassador's, drew him -from his seclusion; and whether he found society more agreeable, -after this interval of retirement, or that the proud indifference -of Lady Desmond's manner interested a fancy cloyed by adulation, is -problematical; but from that period he was more frequently to be met in -the brilliant circles adorned by the presence of the beautiful widow, -but whether the slumber of her heart, had been broken by the eccentric -Englishman, before whose commanding spirit her own involuntarily bent, -none could tell, though Mrs. Wentworth surmised. - -"But even Italy one tires of," said Lord Effingham, rising to depart -after a lengthened visit; "and I confess I am ready to try England, at -least, while summer and the novelty of my late revered uncle's villa -last; besides, had I been undecided, your presence would have fixed me." - -Lady Desmond smiled. - -"I fear I frightened away a very studious young lady, whom I found deep -in the perusal of some trash--Dickens, I believe," taking up the number -Kate had been reading. - -"My cousin, Miss Vernon--poor Kate is not in the mood for any profound -literature; she has had great sorrows. But I trust you will sometimes -look in on us, it will do us both good." - -"I shall certainly make my _début_ in the, to me, new character of -consoler." - -And he bowed ironically. - -"My sweet god-daughter will teach you not to be satirical--she is so -good." - -"Your god-daughter! why you could not have learned your own catechism -when she was christened." - -"I was very young, and was only a proxy; but I have called her my -god-child ever since." - -"Well, _addio_ Lady Desmond, I will bring you some flowers to-morrow; I -see you have no conservatory." - -And he departed. - -Kate was rather startled by the expression, half fright, half -exultation in Mrs. O'Toole's countenance, as she entered her room -before dinner, to assist her in dressing. - -"Och thin, Miss Kate, agrah; who do you think has just rode off, on a -horse fit for a prence?" - -"I am sure I cannot imagine. Oh, Lord Effingham, I suppose." - -"Didn't I tell ye, he was a lord? faith, I niver was mistaken in wan -yet; and fur all I spoke up so bould, ses I to meself, he's a lord, no -less." - -"But, nurse, what do you mean? who did you speak up bold to?" - -"To the earl there, him that has jist rode off." - -"Where?" demanded Kate, fearful of some strange outbreak on the part of -Mrs. O'Toole. - -"There, in that banishmint we wor in, at that onlooky Bayswather, whin -he wanted me to take the note to ye." - -"Why, dear nurse, you do not mean to--Oh, yes, now I recollect, I -thought his face and voice were familiar to me. I was dull, very dull, -not to notice it before; he is the same person who spoke to me in -Kensington Gardens." - -"An' did he spake to ye to-day, jewil?" - -"Yes; and now I remember, he seemed embarrassed; it is curious; perhaps -I ought to mention it to Georgina; yet, no, it would be useless; he -amuses her now; and she is just the person who would resent such -conduct, warmly. No, I am but a sorry companion as it is; but I will -interfere with her amusement as little as I can." - -"Faith, ye'r in the right iv it, Miss Kate; for all Lady Desmond loves -ye, she loves her own way betther nor all the world itself." - -"Hush, hush, you must not speak in that way of our kind, good friend, -nurse." - -"Well, well, it's thruth I'm tellin' ye; an' see, jewil, ye'll think it -quare to be spakin' cool an' asy to that thief iv the world, though he -looks like a prence, an' rides like a king." - -"Queer! Oh, no, I feel as if that adventure happened years ago; that -I have grown old and dispassionate since. Then he will never notice -me, when Georgy is there; at least, not much; and, I confess, I feel -pleased that he should meet me, in my natural position; but his -presence, and the memories it calls up, will never be very welcome to -me, now especially." - -"Well, we'll see, there's the divil's own timper in thim fiery eyes iv -his. I'll go bail he's a dead shot with the pistils." - -"Very likely; but there is the dinner bell." - -Lady Desmond was thoughtful and _distrait_; that evening; she spoke -little of Lord Effingham, and only conversed by an effort. After tea, -she entreated Kate, who had already recommenced her practising, to sing -some of the airs she had been arranging previous to her grandfather's -death; and Kate, anxious to conquer the repugnance she had felt of late -to her favourite occupation, complied, till the tears pouring down her -cheeks interrupted her. - -"Dearest, forgive me," cried Lady Desmond, roused from her thoughts -by the sudden cessation of the music, and flying to her side, "how -selfish, how thoughtless I am," and winding her arm round Kate's waist, -drew her to the window, through which the moonlight streamed, and the -breeze wafted a thousand perfumes. - -They stood there a few moments in silence, till Kate, recovering her -composure, pressed a kiss upon her cousin's cheek. Lady Desmond -started, and a sudden tremor ran through her frame. - -"You are cold, dear Georgy? come from the window." - -"Oh, no, no! I wish I was cold and calm! Ah, Kate, I am not happy! I -would fain change with you!" - -"With me! surely not with one so lonely and----." - -"Lonely! Who can be more lonely than I am? You have been so much loved; -I would give any thing for even the memory of such affection, as the -dear Colonel had, for you; some one to live for, some one to die for, -who would understand your every glance!" - -"But, dearest Georgy, you had all this in your husband!" - -"Yes! Oh, heaven forgive my forgetfulness, but now I feel so wearied -with this vain struggle! If I had been blessed with children I should -have something to live for." She paused and pressed her hand against -her eyes. "Come, I will give myself rest and freedom, I will live for -you, and you only, my Kate, you shall be my daughter." - -And she held her with a wild firm pressure to her heart. - -And Kate, puzzled by this unaccountable outbreak, returned her embrace, -silently praying to God to direct her beautiful but wayward kinswoman -aright. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -OLD ACQUAINTANCE. - - -Lord Effingham's visits were constant and apparently welcome, for Kate -soon began to observe a restlessness in her cousin, when the hour at -which he usually made his appearance passed without his arrival. At -first, Kate had taken her work or book to her own room or to the Palace -Garden, when his name was announced, but Lady Desmond had soon cut off -her retreat by observing-- - -"You must act chaperone for me, dear Kate, but if strangers are so -repugnant to you, I will tell Lord Effingham, and he shall not come -here any more." - -And Miss Vernon knew very well, whatever her inclination might be, what -was expected. Yet there was much in their visitor's conversation that -drew her out of herself, and interested her by force of contrast to her -own views, although the indolence of depression rendered her averse to -the exertion of argument. Besides, Lord Effingham was often apparently -unconscious of her presence, and scarcely ever addressed himself to -her, so much so, that Lady Desmond had thought herself called upon to -make a sort of apology for him. - -Yet Kate more than once caught his eyes fixed upon herself, and -felt that her few occasional observations were listened to with an -attention all the deeper for its unobtrusiveness; in short, she felt -certain he remembered her, and watched for some indication, either of -consciousness or resentment on her part, while each day rendered her -more at ease, as she observed his attentions to her cousin. - -The quiet routine of their lives was seldom interrupted. - -Lady Desmond sometimes went to town, and generally Lord Effingham's -name figured in the same list of distinguished fashionables present -at balls, dinners, &c., with her own. Kate began to think that their -present intercourse had fallen into a natural channel of indifference, -and that the bold stranger of Kensington Gardens, was totally merged in -the high-bred reserved earl; but she was mistaken. - -One morning a feverish cold confined Lady Desmond to her bed, and the -Hampton Court doctor threatened her with every ill "that flesh is heir -to," if she did not, by care and submission to a few days seclusion, -nip the growing disorder in the bud. Kate was anxious and uneasy about -her, the very thought of a sick room made her heart ache. - -"Do not look so unhappy about me, love," said her cousin, "it is my -will to remain here; I want solitude, I want freedom from external -influences; you shall read to me good books." - -"Milord, his compliments, is very unhappy to hear your ladyship is ill, -and begs to know particularly how you are." - -"Oh! Kate, run down to him, will you, dearest, say I am too unwell to -see him, for a week to come, at least; you will--observe--there go, -darling." - -Kate obeyed, neither with alacrity or reluctance, Lord Effingham had -almost ceased to be connected in her mind with the audacious stranger -who had addressed her, and although this was the first time she had met -him alone, since that occurrence, it was with perfect composure she -returned his salute, and met his eager scrutinising glance without a -shade more of colour tinging her pale cheek. - -"I am inconsolable at hearing of Lady Desmond's indisposition," said -Lord Effingham, before Kate could address a word to him. "How did she -catch cold? Has she good advice!" - -"I do not think her very ill," replied Miss Vernon, "a little care and -quiet is all she requires; but she desires me to say, she fears she -will not be able to see you for some days; next week, if you should be -in this neighbourhood, probably you will find her reinstated in our -usual morning room." - -"Of course I shall make enquiries every day for the health of my -charming friend." - -And as Kate could not avoid thinking there was something of a sneer in -the smile and tone with which these words were spoken, they revived all -her antipathy to the dark browed peer. Anxious to dismiss him, yet not -wishing to show it, she stood a moment, undecided, when Lord Effingham, -with a sudden change of voice and expression, from the measured tone -and listless look, with which he usually spoke, to one of animation and -earnestness, exclaimed-- - -"No, Miss Vernon, I cannot go yet, though you indicate your desire that -I should, by standing. I cannot let the opportunity, I have so long -sought, pass, without ascertaining whether your memory is as imperfect -as mine is vivid." - -"If you mean," returned Miss Vernon, raising her eyes to his with the -calmness now so habitual to her, "if you mean that you met me before, -and that I forget it, you are mistaken; I remember that very unpleasant -circumstance perfectly." - -He was evidently annoyed by her candour and tranquillity. - -"I regret to find you still resent my conduct, you at least might -excuse it." - -Kate smiled. - -"I do not resent it now; since that," she continued, "I have gone -through much affliction, I have experienced real grief and sorrow, -such as reduce all petty annoyances to their proper level; but why -revert to what is past." - -"To ask you to--not exactly to forgive, but to acknowledge that my bold -attempt to grasp the inexpressible pleasure of your acquaintance was -not so heinous." - -"Really, Lord Effingham, I should be obliged to you not to continue -this conversation any further; I do not suppose it possible for you to -comprehend the effect produced on my mind by your audacity; pardon me, -but it is the only word that sufficiently expresses my impression of -your conduct on the occasion to which you allude. Let it be forgotten, -I would not for worlds disturb my cousin with any revelation so -likely----" - -"Yes," interrupted Lord Effingham, absently, "I perceived, at a glance, -that the fair widow was ignorant of the affair, but be it as you -choose, for the future, only, if you are to continue her inmate, take -my advice, and withhold the disclosure altogether." - -And he smiled with an expression of insolent power, that made Kate's -heart thrill with indignation. - -"My Lord, I do not require a stranger's advice, what to confide to, or -what to withhold from my earliest and dearest friend; you must excuse -me, I have left Lady Desmond alone." - -"One moment," cried Lord Effingham, springing to the door, "we meet -again as friends? You must not refuse to give me bulletins of your -cousin's health in person." - -"I have no wish to embroil the even tenor of my life, about what can -concern me no more, I wish you a good morning, my Lord." - -He held the door open, and bowed low, as she passed out, then returning -to the place where she had stood, remained a moment in silent thought, -gnawing his under lip. - -"By----," he at length muttered, "I would hate her if I could; if she -was less lovely; her supreme disdain of my admiration was so real, -and her indifference! Yet her cousin is more beautiful, and would have -_acted_ the part perfectly, but all the time I should have felt it was -only the graceful acting of my slave; this is real, this girl is free -as air, and I feel as if afloat in some new and unexplored ocean, where -my compasses are at fault, and the stars no longer those I used to -steer by." - -He looked absently through the window till the animated fiery glance -faded into a cold, sneering smile, then slowly descending to the hall -door, mounted his horse, and gallopped across the park at full speed. - -Kate's heart was beating faster when she returned to Lady Desmond's -room than when she left it; there was something of insolence and -conscious power in Lord Effingham's manner, that was totally strange -and repugnant to her; this short interview with him had recalled all -the sore feeling of resentful indignation and wounded pride, that had -so galled her on their first meeting, and though she felt, rather than -reasoned, that it would be most unwise to disclose the _rencontre_ to -Lady Desmond, she was indescribably provoked to think there was any -thing like a secret between her and the proud, bold Earl. - -"Well, dear Kate, how did Lord Effingham take his sentence of -banishment?" - -"He did not take it at all; he said he would ride over every day, to -make enquiries in person." - -"And did he tell you any news?" - -"No." - -"He never tells news! How unlike the present race of babblings into -which our aristocracy has degenerated." - -"Why, what does he do?" - -"Ah, Kate, he is no favourite with you; I see his foreign indifference -to unmarried women has prejudiced you." - -"No, indeed, I neither like nor dislike him, but there is something in -his face, and voice, and manner, I could never trust." - -"Lord Effingham does not pretend to be a pattern man, and certainly he -is, when he likes it, a most agreeable member of society," returned -Lady Desmond, rather coldly. "But will you answer that note of Lady -Elizabeth's, I cannot, of course, dine with her." - -And Kate perceived, by this sudden change, that her cousin did not like -to pursue the subject. - -True to his word, Lord Effingham rode over every day to make his -enquiries for Lady Desmond, in person, and Kate resolutely secluded -herself during the few moments of his stay, in her cousin's or her own -chamber. - -One morning the invalid was sufficiently well to receive two or three -dear (fine lady) friends. Kate stole away from their gossip, to her an -unknown tongue, and established herself on a shady seat, commanding a -view of the park, her book lay idly in her hand, and lulled by the -hum of the insects, and the gentle rush of the water from one pond to -another, she gave herself up to the past. - -"How poor dear grandpapa would have delighted in this place; how Georgy -would have cheered him, and now it is too late!" - -And the bitterness of sorrow softened for a while in new scenes, and -the increased occupation of the last few days, came back all freshly to -her mind; every look, every tone of her beloved parent, was recalled -with a distinctness that made her heart ache, and the emptiness and -aimlessness of her present life stood out vividly before her. - -"Ah, forgive me great Father, if I cannot yet, with perfect submission, -say, 'Thy will be done, help me, strengthen me.' She involuntarily -raised her eyes as she murmured these last words, half aloud; and they -met those of Lord Effingham, which wore a grave and more earnest look -than usual, as if Kate's slight form, with its mourning garb, and her -pale calm face, its expression, spiritualised by the thoughts that -occupied her mind, had struck his hard nature with some new sense of -truth and beauty. - -"Forgive my intrusion," said he, advancing with his usual easy -self-assured air, "they told me Miss Vernon was out, and as you have -hitherto allowed me to languish, on such meagre reports of your -cousin's health, as I could gain from Mademoiselle Louise, I ventured -to seek a personal interview with you, _al fresco_." - -"Lady Desmond will probably see you on Monday, my Lord. Mrs. Cranbourne -and her sister were admitted to-day," returned Kate, with quiet -politeness. - -"Yes," said Lord Effingham, absently, "pray Miss Vernon, can you, and -will you give me, _le mot de l'enigme_." - -"I do not understand you." - -"What was the cause of Lady Desmond's illness, or rather her sudden -fancy for the retirement of her own chamber?" - -"My cousin, unfortunately, caught cold on Thursday; she sat near an -open window, at one of the Ancient Concerts, and----." - -"My dear Miss Vernon, that is the official report, but I want to know -why she chooses to submit to the martyrdom, which confinement and -inaction is to her, rather than receive me?" - -"You imagine then, that her illness is pretended to avoid you? if -your curiosity lasts over to-morrow, I will ask her, and give you her -solution of the enigma." - -Lord Effingham laughed scornfully. - -"I do not jest," continued Kate, simply. "I shall repeat to her, both -what you have said, and any thing you may add, in the same tone." - -"Then you are great friends," said Lord Effingham, seating himself on -the bench beside her, "you are angry that I should doubt the illness -of one of the fairest daughters of Erin, whose cheek was ever tinged by -the roses of health; but, seriously, you will not make mischief between -us? I would never forgive you; do you not see I am very fond of Lady -Desmond?" - -He leant forward as he spoke these words, with much earnestness, to see -what effect they produced on Kate, and at the same time two officers -in undress cavalry uniform lounged past; both glanced quickly at Miss -Vernon and her companion, but withdrew their eyes immediately, as if -conscious of having intruded on an interesting _tete-à-tete_. - -Kate's heart almost stood still with a spasm of memory, as she -recognised Colonel Dashwood; she could not refrain from exclaiming -his name aloud, he turned immediately, and bowing, with a profound -and grave respect, which showed Kate he had heard of the loss she had -sustained, took her hand and made some general enquiries, with an air -of kindly interest. - -"I am staying with Lady Desmond," she said, her eyes filling with -tears, "and you----." - -"Oh, some of us are quartered here, the rest scattered in small -detachments; I like the place, and am here as much as possible, if -you will allow me, I shall do myself the pleasure of calling on you -to-morrow." - -"I shall be very happy to see you," she replied; and with another low -bow, Colonel Dashwood joined his companion and walked away. - -"So," exclaimed Lord Effingham, "you cultivate dragoons, do you, Miss -Vernon? Well, has not the promise of that very "rear rank take open -order," looking individual to call upon you, softened your intention of -making mischief between me and _La Vedova ammalata_?" - -"Lord Effingham," said Miss Vernon, quietly, rising from her seat, -"I do not know why you choose to adopt a sneering tone towards people -in general, but this I do know, that to me, such confidences, as are -implied by questions, about Lady Desmond, are peculiarly distasteful; I -have no wish to say anything in the least uncivil, but I should prefer -remaining on terms of the most distant acquaintance with you." She -bowed slightly, and walked away, but he followed her in an instant, -looking dark and haughty. - -"I thank you for so clear an exposition of your sentiments; perhaps it -was scarcely required; but you have not yet answered my question; will -you repeat my observations to Lady Desmond?" - -"I shall--may I beg you to leave me." - -"Ha," said Lord Effingham, "you have not your canine ally to compel me -doing so." - -At this moment, all Kate's pride and decision melted before the -memories thus called up; and, with a sudden gesture, indicative of her -incapability to endure his presence another moment, she pressed her -hands to her eyes, in the vain effort to stem the torrent of grief, -that swelled her heart. - -Lord Effingham retired at this silent, but unmistakeable expression of -her feelings, with a look of half startled, half sullen, yet not wholly -uncompassionate; and Kate, stealing quickly through the open window of -the morning-room, reached her own unnoticed. - -Lady Desmond was in remarkably good spirits at dinner, and Kate was -struck by the air of joyous exultation, that seemed as it were to -illuminate her grand style of beauty. - -"I am right glad to be well again, cousin mine," she exclaimed. "Glad -to be in the world, though, alas! all the mental revolution I intended -to make is unaccomplished." - -"I do not know what it was, dearest," returned Miss Vernon, "so I -cannot tell whether I ought to mourn over another block being added to -that pavement of which we have heard so often." - -"Well, perhaps it was needless, but now we are free from the servants, -tell me all that news over again." - -"Lord Effingham," began Kate. - -"Nay, dear girl, your own friends first." - -"Well then, Colonel Dashwood said he would call here to-morrow." - -"I shall be very glad to know him. I had left Dungar long before he was -there; and I have a grudge against him, Kate, for I fancy it was the -remembrance connected with his appearance, that caused those tears, of -which I can still detect the traces on your face." - -"No, Georgy, no, indeed" replied Miss Vernon, earnestly. "Now," she -continued, "let me return to Lord Effingham, he heard, it seemed, that -I was in the Palace-gardens, and came after me, to ask me what was the -real cause of your indisposition, and to laugh at my _story_ of "a -cold!"" - -"Indeed!" said Lady Desmond, with a slight start. "What other reason -could he imagine?" - -"I do not know, but--" she paused. - -"Pray go on," said Lady Desmond, impatiently, "I hate to have things -cut short." - -"Really," returned Miss Vernon, "I only hesitate, because it seemed so -impertinent, what I am about to tell you." - -"Never mind--go on--dispense with preface." - -"Lord Effingham said, or rather by what he said, seemed to think, it -was to avoid him, you feigned illness!" - -"He does," exclaimed Lady Desmond, with interest; then an instant -after, with haughty indifference, she continued--"He gives me credit -for more ingenuity, than I possess! yet--" and she leant back, resting -one cheek on her hand, the expression of disdain, she had called -up, fading into a look of pensive thought, almost sad. "How strange -he is--how impenetrable; but these things are so much altered by -repetition." - -Lady Desmond thought long and gravely, at length her brow cleared--a -smile parted her lips-- - -"Perhaps I have disentangled this mystery," she said; "time will -tell, at all events, _bella mia_, I know the world--Lord Effingham's -world--better than you do. I shall not notice 'the impertinence,' as -you deem it." - -"Indeed you do know best, Georgy dear, at least, in general, for you -have experience, which I have not; but as to Lord Effingham, I have an -instinct, worth whole a life-time of experience, that he is false and -selfish--he admires you, indeed he said he was fond of you; but, oh, do -not regard him with anything except the--" - -"Ah, Lord Effingham appears to have been making quite a confidante -of you, Kate! a rare compliment let me tell you," interrupted Lady -Desmond, laughingly, "of course he begged of you not to repeat his -confidence?" - -"Yes, and I told I would." - -"Well, dearest, it is a strange intimacy that has sprung up between -you, and this very Giaour-like peer," returned Lady Desmond, in her -sweetest manner, and quite regardless of Kate's warning. "I know not -where it--" - -"Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell," announced the footman; and the privy -council was ended. - -Colonel Dashwood made his appearance, at the proper hour for visiting, -the next morning, and very much rejoiced was Kate to welcome him; he -reminded her of much that was sad, 'tis true, but of sadness untinged -by any bitter; and then, she had, since the day before, been haunted -by the image of Fred Egerton, as he lay, pale and helpless, on a blue -chintz sofa, in Mr. Winter's drawing-room, which was the latest, and -clearest memory connected with Colonel Dashwood. - -The conversation was, at first, rather constrained, the mind of -both the visitor and visited being full of thoughts they feared to -broach--Kate dreaded, yet longed to speak of her grandfather--she -feared a rush of tears, that might embarrass her kind and pleasant -acquaintance, but her candid, real nature, soon helped her out of the -difficulty. Dashwood spoke in terms of cordial and judicious praise -of the kind old man; Kate listened with delight, and told him of her -happiness with her cousin, to whom she longed to present him, and felt -more intimate with the gay, high-bred dragoon, than she had ever felt -before. - -"You remember Egerton, at A----, Miss Vernon?" - -"Oh, yes, I wished to ask you about him." - -"He has just been Gazetted Lieutenant Colonel of the --th Lancers, you -have heard, of course, he distinguished himself greatly, at ----." - -"Yes, he wrote to dear grandpapa; we got the letter scarcely a week -before--" she turned aside to hide the tears that would roll down her -cheek, in spite of all her efforts to restrain them. "If you should -write to Captain--Colonel Egerton, I mean, pray tell him, stern was the -summons that prevented a reply to his kind letter, he will be sorry to -hear of my irreparable loss." - -"Colonel Vernon had not a warmer admirer in the world, than Fred -Egerton," cried Dashwood. "Indeed Fred was just the sort of fellow to -appreciate him. Well, good morning, Miss Vernon, I am most happy to -have seen you, and hope you will allow me to call occasionally, while I -am here." - -The Monday specified by Lady Desmond, as the day on which she would -receive Lord Effingham, was anticipated by Kate with some anxiety, -and no small degree of curiosity. She wished to see on what terms her -cousin and her admirer would meet, if any quarrel had been at the -bottom of Lady Desmond's indisposition; and if the Earl was really -apprehensive of one arising out of her report of his conversation in -the Palace-garden. - -Lady Desmond had certainly, not resented her information, for never had -Kate seen her so gentle, so loving, and so considerate. They took long -drives together, in the balmy summer evenings, sometimes enjoying the -exquisite, dewy, perfumed air, and rich cultivated scenery in sympathic -silence, sometimes recalling past summer evenings, to each other, and -talking at intervals of the past. - -At this time a letter reached her from Winter. He had been a much -better correspondent since the poor Colonel's death, and his letters -were a source of inexpressible comfort to Kate; they cheered, while -they sympathized in her deep sorrow--she wrote to him in the fullest -confidence, and detailed all matters of personal interest, with a -minuteness that showed how welcome was the task of correspondence to -her. - -The present despatch, after some slight sketch of his plans, which -included an excursion of some months into Spain, and a few rapturous -exclamations at the scenery, continued thus--"You say, 'now I have -room enough in my heart to think of it, I begin to feel, in spite -of Georgy's excessive kindness and generosity, a strangely, painful -sensation, at times, that not even the clothes I wear, are, properly -speaking, my own--shelter, food, all are hers; and though she never, -I am certain, gives this a thought, I feel that it mars the equality, -which is the soul of friendship--I feel strongly, though indistinctly -that this must not, and cannot last; but I am, as yet, incapable of -forming any future plan.' - -"All this is very natural, and exactly what I advised you and our -dear departed friend against, when your cousin invited you to join -her at Florence, last year. Dependency is a thing repugnant to human -nature; but for the present it is right for you to stay where you -are; so be patient, it will be time enough to talk of plans when we -return, which will be soon, certainly before Christmas. I want to have -you quietly to ourselves, away from finery and fashion, then we will -settle everything. Meantime, as I consider you my adopted daughter, -if you will allow me, you must just put the enclosed cheque in your -dressing-box, as a sort of reserve, in case of foul weather--this is a -mere sop to my fidgetty conscience, as I am too selfish to return home -at once, to take care of you, which I believe it is my duty to do, and -I shall have but small comfort if you refuse; pooh! my dear, it is only -to oblige your old _maestro_! - -"I see our former acquaintance, Fred Egerton has been performing -prodigies of valour against those wretched Sikhs--what deplorable -insanity war is! I have no patience with such courage. Well, good -night, I wish you could have a peep at the moon-lit mountain range, -opposite my window. Ah! dear child, you have known much sorrow, but who -can look on the exquisite loveliness, which earth, though cursed for -our sins, still possesses, and doubt that boundless beneficence and -wisdom alike framed our dwelling place, and directs the current of our -lives, God bless you, Kate; my wife greets you, write soon. - - "Your true friend, - - "J. WINTER." - - * * * * * - -It may be derogatory to a heroine's character; but the truth must -be confessed, that the consciousness of having fifty pounds in her -dressing-box, was a great source of repose and security to ours; -her own slender means were nearly exhausted, and the alternative of -being literally penniless, though surrounded with every luxury, or -mentioning the exhausted state of her purse to her open handed cousin, -were most insupportable to her--then she could not bear that nurse -should feel a want of any kind, and she not able to supply it. It was -therefore with no small thankfulness, she penned a reply to her kind -friend. Mr. Winter was one of those calm, rational, unselfish people, a -compound seldom to be met with, from whom a favour may be safely taken. - -"See what Mr. Winter has sent me; a sort of birthday present before -hand," said Kate, holding up the cheque to nurse. - -"Ah, how much, alanah?" - -"Fifty pounds, nurse." - -"Och, good christhians! think iv that now, athen, is'nt Misther Winther -mighty like that little scrap iv paper himself, a thrifle to look -at--but worth a power!" - -"Worth so much, that I for one, can never look upon the outward and -visible sign of so much goodness, without respect and affection." - -"Thrue for ye, Miss Kate, an' so lock it up jewil, there's no sayin' -the minnit ye may want it, I've sometimes a ton weight here, so I have, -that's mighty quare, an' us in the haigth of grandeur, may be; but -where's the use iv makin' ye down-hearted, darlint, wid me dhreams be -day or night." - -"No, dear nurse," sighed Kate, "I do not wish to hear them." - -Monday morning dawned bright, but before noon, dark clouds rolled up -from the horizon, Lady Desmond was looking royally beautiful, as she -reclined in her bergère, her luxuriant, glossy black hair, braided -under a small cap of exquisite lace; she was paler than usual, but -there was a delicacy in her complexion, that contrasted favourably with -her large, dark eyes, which looked up, at intervals, through their -long, black lashes, with languid calmness, reminding Kate of the -unnatural lull that preceeds a thunder storm. - -Kate was utterly dissimilar to the fair widow; her golden brown hair -had a light in its waves--her high, calm brow, beneath which her soft -eyes beamed with a glance, so earnest, and so pure--her girlish figure -so graceful, and pliant, in its drapery of black--the air of deep -repose, of unconscious harmony that pervaded every attitude and tone, -all framed a totally different picture from the queen-like woman, who, -sometimes arranging a few flowers she held in her hand, sometimes -dropping them in her lap, heard, without attending to it, her cousin's -voice, as she read aloud. - -The day was sultry; heavy, brassy-looking clouds obscured the sun, and -the birds chirped in that low, sleepy tone, which always indicates a -lowering sky, or a coming storm; and now and then a sudden warm breeze -swept back the muslin curtains, and filled the atmosphere of the room -with the rich perfume of the garden. - -"How oppressive! I can hardly breathe," said Kate, laying down the book -which she found could not engage her cousin's attention, and walking -towards the window. - -"Yes," said Lady Desmond, languidly, "draw up the blinds, Kate, to the -top; let us have all the light and air we can." - -"If Lord Effingham is not here very soon he will get a wetting; I am -sure we are on the edge of a thunder storm," observed Miss Vernon, -after a pause. - -"Then you fancy he will come." - -"I do not think about it; but I find I anticipate his arrival as -something quite certain; I confess I feel anxious to see how he will -meet you, for he knows I repeated his--" - -"I will tell you," interrupted Lady Desmond, with a tinge of bitterness -in her tone, "as if it could not be the slightest consequence to him, -what my opinion, or that of any one upon earth may be." - -"What a character! but this must be acting!" - -"No, I believe his manner to be a true index of his mind; I have -now known Lord Effingham for nearly two years; and I pronounce him -incomprehensible, impenetrable; and yet," continued Lady Desmond, -passionately, "as mystery has always proved the strongest attraction -to man's mind, so I feel irresistibly impelled to gaze into an abyss, -I cannot fathom, where everything seems uncertain and obscure; I -am undecided whether he is the coldest of egotists, or a man of -the strongest, deepest, most passionate feeling. Do you believe in -mesmerism, Kate? I begin to do so; how otherwise can I account for -the influence that unaccountable man exercises over me; I do not know -whether I love or hate him. I must speak out to you, my own, dear one; -let me tell you all that I have suffered!" - -"Dearest Georgy, though I hear you with pain, yes, a thousand times; -but not now; every moment may bring the earl here, and he must not see -you thus agitated; do not let him see any emotion; you must not let -him think he has so much power; I dread his influence over you. _He is -not good._ I always think of Milton's Satan, when I hear him speak." - -"And what a grand creature Milton's Satan is," cried Lady Desmond; -"but, Kate, let me speak now." - -"Hush, hush," said Miss Vernon, again, and more eagerly stopping her. -"I hear some one coming; and the door into the next room is open." - -Lady Desmond looked towards it, her dark eyes flashing eagerly; -but her countenance rapidly assuming its usual expression of proud -reserve; it was thrown open to its fullest extent, and the footman -announced--"Colonel Dashwood;" and Kate, as she went forward to receive -him, could not restrain a smile at the unexpected finale to their -anticipations. - -Lady Desmond received the gallant Colonel with more than her usual -suavity and grace; and he, notwithstanding his good nature, seemed -more at ease than when alone with Kate, whose pale cheeks and tearful -eyes forbade the gay badinage, which, truth to tell, formed Colonel -Dashwood's principal stock in conversational trade, when Melton Mowbray -and the moors, were not congenial topics. - -Lady Desmond, after the first moment of disappointment, felt the -Colonel's visit to be a relief from her own stormy thoughts; and she -entered fully into his light and lively conversation; while Kate, -though silent, felt soothed and pleased, to have an old acquaintance -thus restored to her, a sort of link with by-gone days, ever present -to her. She sat near the window copying some manuscript music, for her -cousin, to which she had taken a fancy, but oftener resting her head on -her hand, half listening, half thinking. - -They were laughing at Colonel Dashwood's description of some adventure -of his in Dublin; and he was looking very much at home, when Lord -Effingham entered, unannounced; and, at the same moment, a vivid flash -of lightning illuminated the apartment, which was gloomy as night. - -"I found your doors most hospitably open, Lady Desmond," said the Earl, -advancing with his cool self-possession, "and meeting no one to oppose -my progress, entered, with a flash of lightning, like the devil in Der -Freyschutz." - -"I am glad you escaped the shower which is sure to follow," returned -Lady Desmond, endeavouring to recover the double agitation, occasioned -by the lightning and Lord Effingham's _entré_. - -"And now," he resumed, quite regardless of the thunder, which almost -drowned his voice, and holding her hand, perhaps a moment longer than -was strictly _selon les regles_, "now that you have, at last, permitted -me to enter your presence, I must say, I see but little sign of the -indisposition that banished your friends. Miss Vernon has been in -league with you against us--I told her as much the other day--and she -bristled up most indignantly; you must tell her I was right, and you -were only fanciful, or--" - -"You hear Lord Effingham, Kate?" said Lady Desmond, gently. - -He turned and bowed to her, as if he now observed her for the first -time, since his entrance; but his keen eye had noted each individual in -the room, from the moment he crossed its threshold. - -Kate returned his salutation; and as she observed the transformation -of Lady Desmond, from an unembarrassed talker, to a silent listener, -absorbed in self-watchfulness and intense attention to every syllable -that dropped from Lord Effingham's lips, she longed for Sabrina's power -to free her from his unholy influence. - -"Lord Effingham, Colonel Dashwood," said Lady Desmond. - -The gentlemen bowed, and subsided into their respective seats. - -"I feel completely exhausted by the heat," said Lord Effingham, sinking -back in his chair, "the heat and the cold of England are equally -unendurable. We have enjoyed a thunder-storm in the Appenines, Lady -Desmond; and you did not start then, as you did just now, when I -entered; it is this heavy atmosphere." - -"Yes; yet the storm you mention was awfully grand--and at night, too." - - "'Oh, night, - And storm and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, - Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light - Of a dark eye, in woman!'" - -said Lord Effingham, as if to himself; but, with a glance at Lady -Desmond, while Colonel Dashwood was playing with Kate's pen-wiper, and -talking of the band of the --th. - -Lady Desmond sighed, and looked away towards Kate, Lord Effingham -following the direction of her eyes with his, smiled. - -"Miss Kate, agrah," said Mrs. O'Toole's voice, from the verandah, -at that moment, "don't be sitting wid the winda wide open, an' the -lightnin' strikin' right an' lift--sure it'll be powerin' cats and dogs -in a minit;" and nurse's good-humoured face, though not quite so bright -as in former days, beamed in on them. "The Lord save us! I beg yer -pardon, me lady; sure I thought Miss Kate was all alone be herself, an' -I niver thought to find--" - -"No apology, nurse," said Lady Desmond, good-humouredly. - -"Mrs. O'Toole," cried Colonel Dashwood, "I hope I am not quite -forgotten;" and he stepped forward to greet her. - -"Faith, ye'r not, sir; sure, a dog that I remimbered at Dungar, would -be light to me eyes, let alone a grand lookin' gintleman like yer -honor!" - -"It is raining heavily already, nurse," said Lady Desmond, with whom -Mrs. O'Toole was a great favourite; "come in, at once, and you can -speak to Colonel Dashwood." - -"Och, Kurnel, what's the Captin doin'? an' where is he?" - -"Which Captain?" he returned; "I know so many." - -"Och, mee own Captin--him that I nursed through the faver!" - -"Oh, Captain Egerton; he is in India, and is a Colonel now; he has been -doing wonders. I will tell him you were asking for him; he will be -delighted." - -"Me blessin' on him, wherever he goes. Och, it's a weary sore world;" -and she glanced at Kate, and wiped a tear from her eyes with the corner -of her apron; then curtseying profoundly, retired, saying--"I'll niver -forget the Captin, an' him that's gone. How happy they wer togather!" - -"Pray," said Lord Effingham, as she passed, "is your memory always -equally good for every one and everything?" - -"I always had a wondherful memory, mee lord," said Mrs. O'Toole, with -another low curtsey; "for it can remimber an' disremimber, mee lord! -just what's convanient betimes!" - -"Very convenient," replied his lordship, with a laugh; "good morning." - -The storm of rain and thunder growing every moment fiercer and more -loud, Lady Desmond ordered the windows to be fastened; and the party -drew naturally closer together, while the vivid flashes of lightning, -at intervals, displayed their countenances to each other; and Kate, her -nerves not yet braced back to their former strength, almost blushed -for her own cowardice, as she, sometimes, covered her face with her -hands, and scarce could refrain from seizing the arm nearest her; but -that arm was Lord Effingham's. At last, one fearful crash, and blinding -blaze of light, the climax of the storm, startled her out of every -consideration, save the momentary terror; covering her eyes with one -hand, she stretched out the other blindly, catching Lord Effingham's -arm in the involuntary grasp of alarm and leaning towards him; it was -but for a moment, and she drew back. - -"By Jove, a thunder-bolt must have fallen," cried Colonel Dashwood, -springing to the window, as if to look for it. - -Lady Desmond followed him. - -"It was of no use," said Lord Effingham, rapidly, in a low voice, to -Kate; "you see my position is not the least shaken! why interfere -between your cousin and myself?" - -"Would it give you pain if I succeeded?" she asked, in the same tone. - -"Yes." - -"Do you answer me in all sincerity?" - -"In all sincerity, I do." - -"Then I am satisfied." - -"Then we are friends--at least, not foes." - -Kate bent her head, and said, frankly-- - -"I wish to _know_ you." - -Lord Effingham could only reply by a look of surprise, when Colonel -Dashwood approached to take his leave. The Earl bowed formally to him. - -"I suppose I must not ask you to stay for dinner," said Lady Desmond. -"It would not be _comme il faut_ for recluses such as Kate and myself -to have so gay a guest as Lord Effingham!" - -"That is as you think," he returned; "I would, however, certainly stay, -even on that faint shadow of an invitation, were I not unfortunately -engaged to dine with a grand-aunt of mine, just arrived at the Palace. -By the way, would you like to know her? she has two daughters. Miss -Vernon might find them acceptable; young ladies are, you know, -gregarious." - -"We shall be most happy to make your aunt's acquaintance," returned -Lady Desmond. - -The Earl bowed, and departed. - -"I am weary, Kate--my head aches--I cannot speak to you to-day--some -other time--I will go and lie down." - -"As you like, dear Georgy." - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -REVELATIONS. - - -Not many days elapsed before the cards of the Honourable Mrs. J. E. -Meredyth, and the Misses Meredyth were laid on Lady Desmond's table; -but it was some time before Kate saw them; for, feeling totally unequal -to the society of strangers, she declined accompanying her cousin to -return their visit, or to an evening party, which quickly followed the -first interchange of formalities. - -She regretted, while she was too just to blame, her cousin's rapid -oblivion of the sad scene so deeply engraven on her own memory, -though she steadily endeavoured to cultivate a cheerful resignation, -and sometimes was grateful for any interruption that drew her from -the oppressive sadness and sense of loneliness, that often weighed -on her spirits. Grief is something so repugnant to the young, that -they involuntarily endeavour to throw it off. The morning sun gilds -all things with its life-giving, beautifying light, it is only the -lengthening shadows of evening to which tender sadness and lingering -regret seem natural. - -And Kate's true-hearted efforts to submit unmurmuringly to her bitter -loss, were seconded by her happy age; and again peace, like a dove, -still fluttering its wings before settling in its nest, was slowly and -surely returning to her. - -Lord Effingham's visits were not quite so frequent as before Lady -Desmond's illness; but they were more agreeable to Kate; his manner -was more real; he noticed her more--with the air of an elder relative, -'tis true--yet with a quiet, unremitting attention, obvious enough to -herself, though scarcely noticeable, save to a very keen observer. - -The terms on which he had placed himself with Lady Desmond rather -puzzled her; he devoted much of his time to her, was evidently an -admirer of her beauty and agreeability; yet Kate could not help -thinking there was more of the old friend, of the _habitué_ of the -house, than the lover, in his tone and manner. Lady Desmond seemed, on -the whole, happy enough, and met the warm advances of Mrs. Meredyth -very cordially. - -"How do you like your new acquaintance?" asked Kate, the morning after -Mrs. Meredyth's _soirée_. - -"Oh, well enough; they are abundantly civil; but not at all the sort of -people you would fancy Lord Effingham's relatives to be. Madame Mere -is fat and fair, and wonderfully preserved; she looks like his aunt, -not grand-aunt; she is grave and quiet; the daughters are _very_ young -ladies, of about thirty, I should think; they are scarcely good style; -and I thought they would positively devour Colonel Dashwood and a Mr. -Burton, and some other dragoons, who embellished the entertainment." - -"Burton!" repeated Kate; "I remember--" - -"And so does he," interrupted Lady Desmond; "Colonel Dashwood -introduced him to me, and asked permission to bring him here to-day; -he enquired for you very particularly, and said he had heard a great -deal of you from a Captain or Colonel Egerton, a great ally of yours, I -suspect." - -Kate sighed. - -"Was Lord Effingham there?" - -"Yes, rather to my astonishment; he seemed horridly bored, I could -see that; for the species of worship offered to him, both by aunt and -cousins, is exactly the sort of thing to disgust him." - -"If the Miss Meredyths are constantly engaged in devouring dragoons, -and worshipping Lord Effingham, they must be busy indeed," said Kate. - -"From what I could gather, Lord Effingham's presence was rather an -unusual favour; however, we are to be great friends; I must have -them to dine here some day, or to a strawberry and cream supper, or -something of that sort; only I am afraid you do not feel up to it, dear -Kate; but if you do not mind--" - -"Oh, pray do not think of me, Georgy, I am always glad to see you -amused; I can steal away if I find myself unequal to be agreeable--or--" - -"No, no," interrupted Lady Desmond, in her turn. "Dear love, you shall -not be teased, only I think it would do you good." - -And Kate saw the point was decided against her. - -"I wish very much, Georgy, you would allow me to invite Mrs. Storey to -spend a day here; I ought to go and see her; but I feel I cannot go -there yet; if you have no engagement next week." - -"Oh, ask her, by all means; she was very civil, I remember; stay, I -will write the note; you can enclose it; and, while we are about it, -let us ask the husband; he is something terrific, is he not?" - -"Yes, indeed, he is." - -"Do not look so grave about it," said Lady Desmond, laughing; "let us -go to the drawing-room--my desk is there." - -As Kate usually chose those hours, when the gardens were free from -the band and mob to wander there, she did not meet Lady Desmond's new -friends until the evening of her _soirée_, which was a very agreeable -little impromptu meeting--the guests verbally invited in the morning -of the same day, when the band had assembled the few inhabitants of -Hampton Court in one focus. Yet Kate shrank from this unwonted gaiety -as from a desecration. - -Nurse strove to cheer her up. - -"Sure, it'll do ye good, jewil, an' plaise mee lady, so come now, -smile, for yer poor ould nurse." - -The Meredyths arrived rather late; and Miss Vernon was obliged to -remain near Lady Desmond until introduced to them, before she retreated -to the small drawing-room, away from the noise and excitement of the -bagatelle board, round which Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell and some young -ladies, who came under her chaperonage, were gathered, all eagerly -exercising their skill against divers and sundry dragoons, contributed -by Colonel Dashwood, at Lady Desmond's request, to assist her in -entertaining her guests. - -Mrs. and the Miss Meredyths were rather over dressed for so small a -party. Their noisy entry, and loud laughter, repelled Kate, though she -endeavoured to second her cousin's evident wish that she should know -them better; so suppressing her inclination to retreat, she listened -patiently to the reiterated assurances of their desire to make her -acquaintance. - -But Kate's calm, gentle manner, and polite replies, proved faint -counter-attractions to the invitations from the bagatelle party; and -the high-spirited Miss Meredyths were soon immersed in all the interest -of that scientific game. - -Kate, at Lady Desmond's request, led Mrs. Meredyth into the inner -drawing-room, to show her some beautiful water-color drawings, of -scenes in the Appenines, which Lady Desmond had purchased at Florence. - -They had the room to themselves, and Kate soon perceived that it a was -very interesting work to her companion, who never failed to ask some -well put, leading query during the replacing of each drawing, as to -the duration of her nephew's acquaintance with Lady Desmond, or her -connections, estates, &c., at which Kate, unworldly as she was, could -not avoid smiling. - -It was with evident relief that she heard Lady Desmond enter, saying-- - -"If you will accept me as a partner, _faute de mieux_, my dear Mrs. -Meredyth, Lady Elizabeth will manage to have her rubber; I expected Dr. -----, the veteran physician before alluded to; but if you will bear -with my errors till he comes--" - -"You are very good, Lady Desmond; only it is too bad to ask you to play -whist at your age." - -And Mrs. Meredyth rose gladly. Kate stayed to look over some of the -drawings that remained, and to replace them in their portfolio, wishing -she could escape from a collection of strangers, all of whom were -uninteresting to her. - -Burton had not yet made his appearance, and she hoped to have some -conversation with him; for the morning he had called, she was out. So -she stood gazing at a drawing, resting her arm on the top of a _prie -dieu_ chair, and thinking of Fred Egerton, when Lord Effingham said, -gently, and close to her-- - -"I thought I should find you here." - -She started slightly, but turned to him with a smile, for, seeing how -much her cousin's feelings were interested in his behalf, she was, -as she had told him, anxious to know him better; and, her mind fully -occupied with the impression of his admiration of Lady Desmond, the -possibility of his ever bestowing a thought upon herself, save as a -friend and relative of hers, never crossed it. She was, therefore, -rather glad to have a little _tete-à-tete causerie_ with him. - -"I have been showing these drawings to Mrs. Meredyth, but she has gone -to play whist with Georgy, who detests cards. We must endeavour to -rescue her." - -"Not yet, if you please, Miss Vernon," returned Lord Effingham, looking -fixedly at her, "I so seldom have an opportunity of saying a word -to you, uninterrupted by some one or other, that you must forgive me -if I rush abruptly into the apology I have been so anxious to make -for the last fortnight. The day in the Palace Garden," he continued, -rapidly--"when you scornfully informed me that you disdained any -friendship with so forward and ill-bred a fellow as myself--I reminded -you of that dog. It was in total ignorance of----. But I see I am only -paining you. Lady Desmond told me, and I have been burning to assure -you of my deep regret. I trust you will believe my assurance that no -irritation would ever have tempted me, knowingly, to revive any memory -distressing to you." - -He uttered these with an earnest softness that surprised Miss Vernon, -so complete was the transformation it created in his look and manner. - -"I never accused you, even in thought, of such cruelty," she returned, -anxious to relieve his evident anxiety, "so say no more about it, I -entreat." - -"But the gesture of repugnance, with which you turned from me, I cannot -forget it." - -"Did I," said Kate, blushing at the idea of having wounded the feelings -of any one; "I was unaware, but, if you reflect for a moment, you will -acknowledge it was natural, just then, you know I felt sick at heart." - -Lord Effingham's dark cheek flushed for an instant, he bit his lips. - -"Yet you say you forgive me." - -"And I do," she returned, "I could not resent an unintentional offence." - -He smiled, a very different smile from those that usually darkened -rather than illuminated his countenance, and Kate, thought, "perhaps -that might have been the expression of it in childhood." - -He held out his thin, nervous, resolute looking hand, with a look of -entreaty and an expressive-- - -"Then if----." - -Kate, who had not an atom of prudery, and was anxious to make up for -the gesture of repugnance, he had so forcibly described, put her own -frankly into it; he raised it for a moment, to his lips, and said, -lightly, half in jest, half earnest-- - -"And on this hand I renounce my evil ways." - -She withdrew her hand quickly, but before she could make any reply, -Lord Effingham said-- - -"Let us look at these exquisite views; Lady Desmond, the Wentworths, -and myself, made many expeditions among the Appenines. Where were you -then, Miss Vernon?" - -He asked this in a tone as if he remembered, with amazement, having -enjoyed any thing where she was not; but Kate did not notice it, for, -transported back to former scenes, by his question, she answered, with -a sigh-- - -"Ah, I was then very happy!" - -Lord Effingham looked up at her, and as her eyes were bent down, -quite regardless of him, he permitted a slight smile to mingle in the -admiring glance that rested on her. - -"Have you seen Lady Desmond?" she enquired, raising her eyes to his -with a vague sort of notion that she ought not to remain there in -that quiet room, with its books and pictures, _tête-à-tête_, with her -cousin's lover. - -"No, I came here to ask you where she was, _remember_!" - -"Why, am I to remember? do you wish me to tell her?" - -"As you like," said Lord Effingham, carelessly, and turning to the -drawings, began to speak of their merits, and of the artist who took -the views, in a clear, simple, forcible manner which interested -Miss Vernon greatly. She had always felt that her companion was -possessed of talent, though his indolence seldom permitted him to -display it in conversation; and she now listened with pleasure to his -unwonted agreeability. Lady Desmond was frequently the subject of -his comments, which were always flattering, but expressed with an air -of calm, deliberate approbation, equally unlike his usually sneering -indifference, or a lover's warmth; yet his memory appeared to be -wonderfully distinct as to her doings; in one place, she had ordered -her picture from a distressed artist, and retrieved his fortunes by her -liberal payment and patronage. - -"It was in Italy, you know, where the necessaries of life are not -worth double their weight in gold," added Lord Effingham. Or it was -her courage and self-possession in a thunder-storm, or her taste in -an _al-fresco_ entertainment; but though thus constantly referred to, -there was an occasional glimpse shown of her pride, her imperiousness, -or her impatience, never condemned, but hinted at more by a tone, a -glance, a smile than by words. - -Kate listened intently, fancying she had got the clue to his strange -indecision as regarded her cousin, and gradually determining that he -only hesitated to declare the love, she was sure he felt, because he -feared that the existence of such qualities were not calculated to make -a home happy. - -"He does not know her noble nature or her value, and she always appears -to greater disadvantage with him than with any one else. Perhaps I may -be able to clear this up," she thought. "And, after all, he may be -a better man than I imagined," so she listened, resting her clasped -hands on the top of the chair by which she stood, her head inclined -gently to one side, a slight pleased smile curving her lip, and -showing the pearly teeth, while he, compelling himself to speak of the -drawing he held, instead of indulging his natural indolence in silent -contemplation of the sweet face before him, his back to the door, was -first conscious that their solitude was broken in upon by her change of -countenance and position. He turned just as Colonel Dashwood, entering -said-- - -"I have been looking for you, Miss Vernon, to present Mr. Burton," -waving his hand to that gentleman who accompanied him, inwardly -consigning his Colonel to the inferno of busy bodies, for having so -pertinaciously sought Miss Vernon, and interrupted a second interesting -_tête-à-tête_. - -Miss Vernon's cordial and unembarrassed manner set him at ease, -however, and Lord Effingham, in an unusually amiable mood, exerted -himself to cultivate Dashwood, so the _partie quarré_ progressed into a -sociable exchange of trivialities, when their number was encreased by -the approach of Lady Desmond, who entered with a look of restlessness, -Kate knew well how to interpret. - -"Some one said you had arrived, Lord Effingham," she said. - -"I could not see you in the next room, and came here to look for you," -he replied, smiling. "But the awful intelligence that you were playing -whist with my aunt rendered me incapable of further exertion. Is that -sacrifice accomplished?" - -"Yes, I have done my duty." - -"And I have been living over some very pleasant days again," he -returned, glancing at the drawings, "and prosing to Miss Vernon on the -same subject; but I must pay my respects to Mrs. Meredyth," and he -offered his arm to Lady Desmond. - -Miss Vernon continued to converse a little longer with Colonel Dashwood -and Mr. Burton; but neither mentioned Fred Egerton, till Kate, -apprehending she might be asked to contribute towards the music, now -superseding the bagatelle, complained of fatigue, and wished them "good -night." - -"I am glad I shall be able to tell my friend Fred Egerton I met you, -Miss Vernon," said Burton, "I kept my letter open for the purpose, as -he always asks me for some intelligence of his old friends, though I -do not think he seems inclined to return to them." - -"Quite right," said Colonel Dashwood, "he has made an excellent start -in India; good night, Miss Vernon; I will tell Lady Desmond you have -beat a retreat." - -"Good night," and soon after the party broke up. - -Lord Effingham drove home by moonlight; but his thoughts were too -darkly chaotic for us to fathom. - -The Miss Meredyths, in council over their "_toilettes de nuit_," -decided that whether "Eff" married Lady Desmond or not, it was well -worth their while to cultivate her acquaintance, and Burton, throwing -off his uniform, and drawing his writing-table to an open window, -proceeded to add a P.S. to his letter. - - "I have just returned from a tranquil little Arcadian evening party - at Lady Desmond's, where I was introduced to your old acquaintance, - Miss Vernon, and I am half inclined to forgive you all the nonsense - you used to talk about her; though she looks pale and pensive, I think - she is still more lovely than she was at that ball, where we saw her, - two years ago. I fancy I can account for the present quietism and - irreproachable life of the rather notorious Lord Effingham. He came - in for old St. L's beautiful villa near Richmond, some time ago, and - is nominally living there; but, in reality, is here every day, and - all day, and the gossips are puzzled; because if Lady Desmond is the - attraction, they could have married any time these two years; but, - from what I have seen, I am certain it is your friend Miss Vernon who - will be Countess of Effingham. In short, I am pretty sure they are - engaged; I hope he may make a tolerable husband, for she deserves well - I am certain. This is my latest intelligence--so, good night, old - fellow, and do not keep me six months waiting for a reply to this." - -Kate was sitting, near the window, in her room, waiting until the -household had sunk into silence before she laid down to sleep, when the -door was softly opened by Lady Desmond, who entered, saying-- - -"Are you awake? Oh! you have not gone to bed." - -"Dear Georgy!" exclaimed Miss Vernon, rising to meet her, "I hope you -did not think me rude for running away so selfishly, but--" - -"Not a word more," interrupted her cousin, passing her arm caressingly -round her, "you were right to do as you felt inclined--indeed I fear I -was inconsiderate in asking you to join us, nor was there anything very -attractive in our guests." - -There was a pause for some moments; and then, Lady Desmond, drawing -Kate closer to the window, asked-- - -"Are you sleepy, love?" - -"No, dear Georgy, not in the least." - -"Then I will resume my revelations. I have not felt in the mood to do -so before, and you were wise and kind not to urge me." - -"Go on then, dearest," said Kate, "I long to hear your story." - -"When first I met Lord Effingham at Naples," began Lady Desmond, -withdrawing her arm from Kate, and resting the other against the -window-frame, "I had been rather bored by the perpetual gossip about -him always floating in the society there, and, at the same time, I was -intensely fatigued by the utter absence of anything like interest in -the world at large. I had no particular object--I was so perfectly my -own mistress--I had not even the excitement of imagining what I would -do if I could, for I had the power of accomplishing every rational -wish. I was wearied of the excessive attentions and admiration of a -dozen needy adorers, and, in short, _ennuye'd_. In this happy and -commendable frame of mind, I dragged myself listlessly to a birthday -dinner at the English Ambassador's; and accident placed me next a -gentleman, so quietly _distingué_, that nine out of ten observers, -would not have noticed him; my attention was attracted by his being a -stranger in a circle where each was known to each, and I was rather -surprised when Lady W---- introduced him to me as Lord Effingham. -He handed me down to dinner; but if I give you all these frivolous -particulars, I shall not come to the end of my story until morning. -There was an indescribable fascination for me in his manner. You must -have observed the sense of power it conveys--the impression that there -is something ever to be revealed, which you can never fathom, while -he reads all your thoughts; the constant air of cool indifference you -have seen; but the occasional softness, so exquisite in its flattering -suggestions, you have not. Ah, Kate, I little thought as I drove -home that night, feeling life had still something left to wish for, -something still to excite, that the time would come when I as ardently -desired to have that passage wiped away from my existence. - -"I met Lord Effingham in society frequently, and he was the only man, -amongst those of our circle, who did not enter himself as an aspirant -for my smiles--to use the wretched _jargon_ of those idlers--I will -not say this piqued me. Pique is too weak, too French a term, to -express the scorn of myself, with which his neglect filled me; he -only considered me a fitting object of admiration for the vulgar -mob. Yet there was a sympathy between us, that, though we seldom -spoke, linked us strangely. Gradually--I cannot tell how it was--we -became more intimate, and my very soul was absorbed in the intense -longing to make him feel that I was not powerless. At length, I saw -I was admired--I read it in his eyes a thousand times, and no longer -unoccupied and listless, every faculty at its fullest stretch, both -to feel and to conceal what I felt; for I dreaded either the world, -or Lord Effingham, obtaining even the slightest clue to the state of -my mind; then, Kate, then, for the first time, I tasted all the wild -excitement--all the concentrated vitality of which life is capable." - -Lady Desmond's eyes dilated, and Kate felt her own veins thrill with -the contagious passion that inspired her cousin's words. - -"Still," resumed Lady Desmond, "I was unconscious that, in my -efforts to rivet chains on so untamable a captive, I had only twined -them closely round myself. This did not last long; his excessive -variability opened my eyes; though the tenderest accents had breathed -the well-adapted line from my favorite poet in tones that rendered its -application unmistakeable, though the interruption of our slightest -conversation was avoided as unendurable in the evening, the next -morning would find him so utterly cold, indifferent, almost forgetful, -that I shrunk from the power so remorselessly displayed, and fled. - -"Whether the novelty of my seeming indifference--for so far, I acted -bravely, Kate--was not yet '_fletri_,' or whether he was sick of -Naples, I do not know, but he followed me to Florence, and told me, -with the calm gravity of seeming truth, that Naples was insupportable -without me. I believed him--nay, I think he spoke what he then felt. -I was again lapped in Elysium; he was less variable--I did not care -to think of the future, I was no longer strong enough to preserve the -guard I had hitherto kept. His haughty iron-spirit mastered mine--he -saw it, and left Florence for England. - -"I will not dwell on that miserable year--I cannot--for I only remember -a dark chaos of black misery and despair--an eternal effort to seem -what I was not. All this is incomprehensible to you, Kate--may it ever -be so. I despise myself; at this moment I hate Lord Effingham; but yet -I would give every hope here, almost every hope hereafter, to see him -at my feet--to hear him say, 'I love you,'--this wild longing to touch -his heart; the conviction that no effort of mine can do so; the glimpse -of his love; the long cold night of his indifference; and, worse than -all, the irritating sense of slavery to his will, is death to me. Yet -I have striven against it; I vowed I would not return to England while -it contained him, and you know how I kept my vow--aye, in despite of -duty. And when I did come, I believed he was in Paris. And must I live -through all this again? Why does he seek me to torture me? I scarcely -gave him the civil encouragement to call on me, required by the usages -of society. And yet, I fear, he sees too well how vainly I struggle -against his influence. - -"His questions to you, when I endeavored to gain a few days' quiet -reflection, uninterrupted by his disturbing presence, they were -strange, yet they showed interest. Oh, Kate, Kate, can you read this -riddle for me? my experience is all at fault; what say the instincts -of your fresh heart?" - -"He loves you," cried Kate, much moved by her cousin's recital; and she -spoke her true conviction, "he must love you, and we do not know what -motives he may have. Yet, I fear he must be selfish, and cold-hearted, -to think so little of your feelings. Oh, dear Georgy, try not to love -him; how can you love where you do not trust? pray to God to help you, -and make up your mind to endure a little present pain, in the hope of -future peace; let us leave this place, and go away from him--he has no -right to make you wretched--let us go." - -"No--impossible," said Lady Desmond, faintly, as if wearied by her own -emotions. "Never was the spell so strong on me as now. I cannot--nay -more, Kate, I _will_ not break it; do not look so sadly, so shocked. -I will be reasonable; you said just now we could not know his -motives--fate seems to have thrown us together again--for God knows I -came down here to get out of London, lest he might suddenly re-appear, -to make me writhe under the consciousness of my thraldom. Let us see -what another month may disclose. I feel that, before long, all doubt -will be at an end, though now, at times, I think he loves me." - -"Yes, he loves you--he must," cried Kate, gazing on Lady Desmond's -beautiful face, as, glowing with the animation her reminiscences had -called up, "but he loves himself better." - -"Then I am free," returned her cousin, "he is too grand a creature to -be selfish--no there is none like him. Whatever his faults may be, they -are not petty--he can love. We will remain here another month. What do -you advise?" - -"Whatever I advise, dear Georgy, you will stay; and perhaps it is -better to give Lord Effingham a fair trial, though he might follow us; -at all events, you do not quite disapprove my counsel, I would fain -have you go." - -"Do not ask me, I cannot; but is not that two o'clock--to bed--to bed, -Kate, how could I have kept you up so late. Good night." - -"God bless you, and give you peace, dear Georgy--good night." - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -AN ECLAIRCISSEMENT. - - -The note of invitation, which Lady Desmond had despatched to Mrs. -Storey, was quickly answered in the affirmative; that worthy woman -having a strongly marked preference for fashion and the aristocracy, -though if the truth must be told, it was an act of heroic accordance, -with her principles to spend an entire day with Lady Desmond, who had -impressed her with a sincere feeling of awe. - -"Mrs. Storey has much pleasure in accepting my polite invitation. _Cela -va sans dire_; write, Kate dear, and say I will send the carriage to -meet her at Kingston. Mr. Storey is engaged till six o'clock, but will -come down for her, _tant mieux_." - -Kate felt her cousin's civility to her friend as the most delicate -kindness, and thanked her with an eloquent glance. - -Lady Desmond seemed to cling more to Miss Vernon since she had made the -confession detailed in the last chapter; she had seemed more cheerful, -and hopeful too, as if relieved by her confidence in another--her -manner with Lord Effingham, had more of frankness and courage, and he, -ever keen and quick, was evidently aware of some change in the mind, -or heart, he knew so well; and for the moment seemed roused from his -habitual indifference to a deeper and more palpable interest. Kate -watched all this anxiously. "Is he afraid of losing her," she thought. -"Ah, if she would try to _be_, and not merely to _seem_, careless of -him, she would bind him to her--there is something so irresistible in -the evidence of truth. But how foolish--how worthless it all is--they -are both too prosperous to love in earnest!" - - "In climes full of sunshine, though splendid their dyes, - But faint are the odours, the flowers shed about, - 'Tis the mist, and the clouds of our own weeping skies, - That draw their full spirit of fragrancy out. - So the wild glow of passion, may kindle from mirth; - But 'tis only in grief, true affection appears-- - To the magic of smiles, it may first owe its birth, - But the soul of its sweetness is drawn out by tears." - -Kate no longer avoided Lord Effingham, she readily accepted every -opportunity of conversing with him, though each day showed her how -vain were her attempts to penetrate his real sentiments; all things, -however, wore a smiling aspect the morning she drove to Kingston, to -meet Mrs. Storey. - -"I am sure, Miss Vernon, this is most polite and attentive, and I am -truly rejoiced to see you looking so much better, but the hair at -'Ampton Court is the best in world; and how is Lady Desmond, &c., &c." - -Kate was really glad to see the good-natured garrulous little woman, -and the sincere, kindly tone of her enquiries for Mr. Storey, and the -children touched her guest's heart. - -"Indeed, I always tell Mr. S. that you are not one of your forgetful -people, that never remember a former friend, when you have got grand, -new ones." - -"I should indeed be sorry to be so worthless as to forget all your -kindness to me and mine," returned Kate, warmly. "I would have gone -to see you before this, but I cannot yet bring myself to go to that -neighbourhood; before we leave this part of the world, however I -certainly will." - -"Oh dear, yes, Miss Vernon, remember I count on a week or fortnight, or -as long as your cousin will spare you. I suppose you will never leave -her now, until you go to a house of your own?" - -"That I cannot tell," returned Kate; "at present, at all events, -probably until this terrible lawsuit of mine, which is still dragging -on, is decided, I shall remain with her." - -"Well you must come to me for a few days soon, at all events, though I -cannot offer you the same grandeur and elegance, you are accustomed to -here." - -"My dear Mrs. Storey, you know what I was accustomed to when you -first showed me kindness and attention; but tell me something of your -brother." - -The meridian sun streamed fully on them, for the last part of their -drive, and Mrs. Storey, who was an eager talker, and was excited by -the meeting with Kate, looked painfully red and heated, by the time -the carriage stopped at the old fashioned, iron gates, leading into -the garden, before Lady Desmond's house; and as they were ushered into -the cool, fragrant drawing-room, with its open windows, darkened by -Venetian blinds, and breathing an atmosphere of simple refinement, -Kate could hardly refrain from a smile, at the contrast between Lady -Desmond's calm courteous manner, and fresh, undisturbed appearance, and -the flushed, fussy guest--she rose to receive so graciously. - -Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell, and Colonel Dashwood came in, during -luncheon, much to Mrs. Storey's edification, though she sat listening, -rather silently, to their animated talk of people and things all -unknown to her. - -"I am sorry," said Kate, turning to her, "this is not one of the days -on which the band performs; it is a very good one, though I have only -heard it from a distance." - -"If you like I will order them to play this afternoon," said Colonel -Dashwood. "Say the word, and they shall be ready by the time you have -expended your admiration on the Vandykes, &c., which you are going to -see." - -"By all means, Colonel Dashwood," cried Lady Desmond, who dreaded the -unoccupied afternoon, "Mrs. Storey would, I am sure, like it." - -"Really," replied that lady, rather confused at the idea of so much -power being exerted for her amusement, "Colonel Dashwood, you are very -good, if it is not too much trouble." - -"Trouble; oh, none whatever," he said, smiling and bowing to Mrs. -Storey. "Lady Desmond, perhaps you will send one of your people with -Colonel Dashwood's compliments, to Mr. Clark, the band master, and say -he wishes the band should play on the terrace-walk, in about an hour -and a half." - -When they had prepared for their proposed lounge (and Mrs. Storey -felt almost ashamed of Lady Desmond's coarse straw bonnet, with its -simple black ribbon), they found that Lord Effingham had added himself -to their party, and stood talking to Colonel Dashwood in one of the -windows. His quick eye rested for a moment on Mrs. Storey's finery, -with an expression of calm curiosity, as one might notice some unusual -specimen in the Zoological Gardens. - -Lady Desmond immediately presented him to her, with the same easy -politeness she would have shown towards a duchess, and he, bowing -profoundly, observed-- - -"You are going picture gazing! allow me to join your party, I have not -seen the paintings here since my raspberry jam, and peg-top days." - -Lady Desmond, and Mrs. Storey, escorted by Colonel Dashwood, walked -first, Lady Elizabeth took Kate's arm, and Lord Effingham sauntered by -her side. - -"This is too much for me," panted Lady Elizabeth, "I cannot pass my own -door, and, I am only delaying you from your friend; tell Lady Desmond I -broke down on the road--pray ring that bell for me, my lord; thank you, -good-bye." - -"Pray," said Lord Effingham, as he and Kate continued to walk, side by -side, "where did Lady Desmond pick up that curious specimen of the -genus woman?" - -"She did not pick her up, I did--or rather she picked me up, and -showed me kind and respectful attention, when less curious specimens -of the human race had the taste and discernment to class me, with the -children's maids, and nurses, frequenting Kensington Gardens." - -"Fairly hit, and deserved, I confess; yet I had hoped you were -magnanimous enough to have buried that egregious mistake in oblivion." - -"So I do in general, and only remember it when your contempt for -something I know to be good, though, perhaps unprepossessing in -appearance, recalls to my mind the unfairness of judging the Lord -Effingham to-day by the uncourteous stranger of last winter." - -He bit his lips in silence for a moment, and then, with a smile of -unusual frankness, said-- - -"A retort from Miss Vernon is like a hair trigger in the hands of an -angel with shining wings and snowy drapery; leave such carnal weapons -to your imperial cousin; truth, simple and earnest, is at once your -shield and spear; better say at once what is now in your mind, without -circumlocution. 'You despise a good and a useful woman, who is worth a -whole nation of '_vaut riens_,' like yourself.' Eh, Miss Vernon?" - -"That is rather too strong," said Kate, laughing. - -"Nevertheless, I have read your thoughts--I often do--I can read your -cousin's; what a different book! Yet she is a splendid creature--how -desperately--" - -And Kate, listening with all her soul, was almost startled into a -scream by a sudden hand laid on her arm, and a breathless voice -exclaiming-- - -"I have just seen Lady Elizabeth, Miss Vernon, and I ran after you to -hear what all this arrangement about the band is. Ah, how do you do, -Effingham?" - -And the two Miss Meredyths were incorporated in their party. - -The rest of the day passed over pleasantly enough; the pictures, the -band, and the gardens kept them free from those "awful pauses" which so -often desolate a day spent with country friends; while Lord Effingham's -unwonted exertions to please and amuse Lady Desmond, _pro tem._ hushed -every doubt, and enabled her to bear up heroically under the rampant -agreeability of poor Mr. Storey at dinner. - -"Well, my dear," cried his wife, as she was putting on her bonnet, -previous to her departure, "I am sure I have had the most delightful -day, and, what is the best of all, is the prospect of such happiness -and success before you--a more elegant man I never met, and so taken up -with you--" - -"What are you talking about?" asked Kate. - -"Lord Effingham to be sure; and--" - -"How can you imagine such nonsense, dear Mrs. Storey," cried Kate, "it -is too absurd, for--" - -But Lady Desmond's entrance cut short their conversation; a -profusion of farewell speeches followed--promises from Kate to visit -them--assurances from the visitors of their content--a large bouquet -from Lady Desmond--and they were gone. - -Time rolled on with a pleasant sameness for the remainder of the month -of trial agreed on by the cousins. Kate entered more into the little -society which assembled two or three times a week at Lady Desmond's -house, and the fair widow herself began a line of conduct to which, as -she felt Kate would be much opposed, she always endeavoured to avoid -any allusion when they were alone. Colonel Dashwood was unmistakeably -"_epris_" with the beautiful widow; and she, though scarcely -encouraging him, certainly showed a preference for his society, -intended to pique Lord Effingham. Once only did Kate venture to hint at -the imprudence of such a proceeding. - -"It can never be successful, for it is untrue; Lord Effingham does not -appear to notice it, and it is a cruel injustice to a kind-hearted, -honourable man, who loves you. I am afraid. Dear Georgy, this is -miserable work, it will destroy your better nature--let us leave this -place. Forgive me for asking, but how can you prefer the uncertain -selfishness of the Earl, clever and polished as he is, to that frank, -manly, high-bred, Colonel Dashwood? I wish you would love him instead." - -"Kate," cried Lady Desmond, almost angrily, "how can you accuse me of -such deceitful conduct? Colonel Dashwood is a man of the world and -can take care of himself. I beg you will not misunderstand me so much -again. I shall leave this in a few weeks--till then, have patience -before you condemn me." - -"I do not condemn you, dearest; I only wish to see you happy," said -Kate, anxiously. - -"Indeed I believe you, _cara miâ_," said Lady Desmond, relaxing from -the air of hauteur with which she had last spoken. "Let us, however, -drop the disagreeable subject." - -And Kate felt she had been treading on forbidden ground. - -She retired to her own room after this conversation, and seating -herself on the window-seat, thought long though vaguely of the species -of unhappy cloud thus thrown over her cousin's life, by the tenacious -grasp she had permitted an absorbing passion to take of her heart, -hiding from her the beauties and the pleasures which might have colored -her life. - -"How terrible to be thus dependent for happiness on the smiles or -frowns of a cold-hearted man. Ah! if my own beloved grandpapa was -alive, she would listen to him." - -And at that remembrance, her thoughts took a different direction, and -dwelt long and sadly on the kind and venerated old man. - -Then again the restlessness which ever seized her when she reflected on -her utter dependence, returned with startling force, and she felt as if -she could, at that moment, set out to seek her fortune alone. - -"I will do so, ere long," she thought, "I cannot live always thus; but, -for the present, I must wait. Until Mr. Winter's return--he is so wise, -so practical--and I must consider poor nurse before myself. Oh, what -an utter change since the day when I walked into the dear old priory -drawing-room with my poor Cormac, and found Colonel Egerton there." - -And his face, and figure, and voice returned to her memory at her -spirits' call, and she longed, with that intensity with which the -prisoner in the body's cage strains itself against its bounds in -unutterable pining to devour space--the wish to see him once more, -to tell him all about her grandfather's death--her own deep sorrows, -absorbed her fancy, and the hours rolled on while she listened in -imagination to his rich, full, frank voice-- - - "Memory may mock thee with the tones - So well-known and so dear-- - 'Tis but an echo of the past, - That cheats the longing ear; - And thou must strive, and think, and hope, - And hush each trembling sigh, - And struggle onward in the way - Thy destined course doth lie." - -"Och! are ye all alone be yerself, asthore?" asked nurse, entering, -"an' the big salt tears rowlin' down yer face. What was it vexed -ye--tell yer own nurse?" - -"Nothing, dear nurse. I was only thinking," returned Kate, drying her -eyes, and endeavoring to smile; "is it time to dress?" - -"Nearly, asthore!" - -"I wonder Mr. Winter has not written; my last letter remains -unanswered," observed Kate, after a silence of some minutes. - -"Ye'll have one to-morrow, acushla," said Mrs. O'Toole, who was always -ready to promise herself, and those she loved every possible good, in -prospect. "An faith ye hav'nt ten minutes left to dress, an' all thim -grand officers an' ladies to be here to-night; sure I'm as plaised as -if I was made Lady Liftinant, to see ye among yer own sort again; not -goin to thim shopkeepin gintry, at Bayswather, me heavy hatred to it. -Thim Miss Merrydeaths, are mighty agreeable young ladies, I see thim -walkin the other day, laughin like grigs they wor; what a quare name -they have, sure it's no wondher they're wishin to change it." - -"Are they?" asked Kate, smiling. - -"To be sure they are, it's not natral for thim to be sich playful -kittins at their time in life, but may be if they wer quite, they'd be -mistakin for full grown cats." - -"Really, nurse, you are so severe this evening, I must run away from -you." - -"The blessin iv heaven go with ye, where-ever ye go; an jist let me -fasten this top hook; there now, here's yer gloves, an' there's not the -like iv ye in the Queen's Coort, let alone Hampton Coort," murmured -Mrs. O'Toole, as Kate kissed her hand to her, and descended to the -drawing-room. - -The weather had been rather broken for the last few days, and a dinner -at Richmond had carried away the greater part of Lady Desmond's usual -guests. Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell, Colonel Dashwood, Lord Effingham, -the doctor, and one or two venerable specimens of whist-players, male -and female, completed the party. The evening was cold for July, and a -small bright wood fire was most acceptable. - -The whist players were soon absorbed in their rubber, while Kate, -Lady Desmond, Lord Effingham and Colonel Dashwood, gathered round the -fire. Kate was seated on a low ottoman, Lady Desmond opposite her in -an arm chair. Lord Effingham leaning back amongst the cushions of a -sofa close to her, with that air of profound quiet and repose, which -formed, at times, so admirable a mask to his real sentiments and -impressions. Colonel Dashwood stood on the hearth-rug, leaning against -the mantel-piece, and occasionally indulging himself in a study of Lady -Desmond's profile, when she turned to speak to the Earl. The group was -interesting; it bespoke refinement, cultivation, and civilisation in -their best form, yet was each member of that little party inflicting or -about to inflict suffering on the rest. - -Little dreaming of such forebodings, Kate sat listening to a -discussion between Colonel Dashwood and her cousin, on Kean's acting -in Sheridan Knowles's play, of "Love," sometimes losing the thread -of the argument in her own thoughts, when she was roused by Lady -Desmond's pronouncing her name; she looked up suddenly, ashamed of her -inattention, and met Lord Effingham's eyes, which wore an expression -that puzzled her, as if they had been fixed on her for a long time. - -"I beg your pardon Georgy," she said, quickly, "I really did not hear -what you said." - -"It was only to get you to side with me against Colonel Dashwood; but -if you were dreaming instead of listening to me, I do not wish for such -an ally," said Lady Desmond, laughing. - -"But," pursued Colonel Dashwood, in continuation of some previous -remark, "Love," in real life, is so different from the strange -masquerade it wears on the stage." - -"The most perfect description of love is that which Byron gives in -his Corsair. 'None are all evil,' you know the passage," said Lord -Effingham, rousing himself. - -"Oh, yes," cried Kate, eagerly, "it is indeed exquisite, but, 'John -Anderson, my Joe John,' conveys the idea of true love a great deal more -forcibly to my mind." - -"Burns," said Lord Effingham, "oh, his detestable jargon is too much -for me, and I cannot see the poetry of a ballad, about some stupid -old woman, who had been drinking 'usquebaugh,' till she was maudlin, -and then proceeds to make love to her 'gude mon,' whose eyes she had -probably been scratching out an hour before." - -"Oh, shame, shame, to sully the real beauty of the fancy by so base a -construction!" returned Kate. - -"Kate worships Burns," said Lady Desmond, "she has a print of 'John -Anderson,' opposite her bed, that her eyes may light upon it on their -first opening in the morning." - -"It is a sweet ballad, I think, and has an honesty about it, I like;" -observed Dashwood. - -"You are right, Colonel Dashwood," said Kate. - -"Ah," said Lady Desmond, "you have ruined yourself with Kate, Lord -Effingham." - -"I hope not; but Miss Vernon must grant Byron's description to be -perfect," he replied. - -"Yes, but his is the description of 'Woman's Love,' added Lady Desmond, -"no man ever felt the tenderness-- - - 'Unmoved by absence, firm in every clime, - And still, oh, more than all, untired by time.' - -which he ascribes to the Corsair." - -"And very few women either, Lady Desmond," said the Colonel. - -"Certainly not a man so pre-occupied by himself, that personal injury -or disappointment, could drive him into warfare with his kind, as -Conrad is described to have been," cried Kate, "it is not such a -character that could experience affection so exquisitely self-forgetful. - - 'Which, nor defeated hope, nor baffled wile, - Could render sullen, were she near to smile, - Nor anger fire, nor sickness fret to vent, - On her, one murmur of his discontent, - Which still with joy could meet, with calmness part, - Lest that his look of grief, should reach her heart.'" - -Her listeners were silent for a few moments, after the tones of her -sweet voice, which had breathed these lines with so true, so tender an -emphasis, had ceased. - -Lord Effingham raised himself from his recumbent position, with a -sudden gleam of light in his deep-set eyes. - -"Then what description of man do you think likely to feel such love?" -asked Lady Desmond. - -"One whom we both knew and loved, might have felt thus, Georgy, and he, -indeed, _was_ a good man." - -"The contradictions of human nature are incomprehensible, even to -profounder philosophers than you are, Miss Vernon," said the Earl, "and -it is not always the most irreproachable characters who have loved most -devotedly. But do you not think Conrad justified by the injuries hinted -at, in bidding defiance to a world to which he felt himself superior?" - -"Yes, I admire Conrad, I confess," replied Lady Desmond. - -"I do not think hatred is ever grand," said Kate, rather timidly. - -"But it is very natural, sometimes, Miss Vernon," observed Dashwood. - -"Miss Vernon would have us turn first one cheek and then the other to -be smitten," said Lord Effingham. - -"Yes," said Miss Vernon, colouring, but composed, "I would in that -sense in which we were recommended to do so. If Conrad could have -loved, as Byron describes, his sense of wrong would have led him to -feel a noble pity for his injurers; revenge would have been merged in -an effort to teach them truth by forgiveness; and which is the grandest -creature, the man who, freed from the petty dominion of self, can look -down on his own passions from a real eminence, or he who is their -willing slave; before whose frown - - 'Hope withering fled, and mercy sighed farewell!'" - -"Bravo, Miss Vernon, you have converted me," cried the Colonel. - -"Yes," said Lady Desmond, "I believe you are right, Kate." - -"You demand perfection," observed the Earl, gloomily. - -"I fear," said Miss Vernon, half ashamed of her enthusiasm, "I have -talked a great deal too much." - -"But the modern school of poets, who draw their inspiration from a -mushroom, or pig-sty, or an old man afflicted with the rheumatism, are, -I confess, too transcendental for me; I cannot interest myself in such -anti-poetical subjects," remarked Lord Effingham. - -"I rather like Longfellow; and Kate, I believe, considers him the first -of poets," said Lady Desmond. - -"Not exactly," replied Miss Vernon. - -"Explain then, why it is that such a school has become so prevalent; -and in painting too! The Royal Academy is filled with 'Dames' schools,' -markets and kitchen scenery, and seems to endeavour in every way to -make the modern and ancient style as unlike as the nature of the art -will admit," rejoined the Earl. - -"It is the confoundedly democratic tone of society; none but mechanics -have money to buy pictures now," said Colonel Dashwood. - -"It is the craving for novelty so prevalent in the present day," said -Lady Desmond. - -"Mr. Winter," said Miss Vernon, "used to say, that it was the gradual -development of truth, that people began to see; it was absurd to -consider that Oriental life had greater elements of poetry than our -own, because it was farther off; or that princes or dukes, kings and -queens, were the only subjects fit for poetry and painting, but that we -began to feel that life, high or low, wherever sentient beings existed, -loved, hated, or struggled, was matter enough for poetry or pictures." - -"Mr. Winter is Miss Vernon's mentor, you must know," observed Lady -Desmond. - -"A capital fellow, he was most kind to Fred Egerton, so hospitable and -droll," said the Colonel. - -Further conversation was interrupted by the breaking up of the whist -tables, and the subsequent departure of the guests. - -"Can you take me into town with you to-morrow?" asked Lady Elizabeth of -Lady Desmond. - -"Do you know whether Mrs. Meredyth returns from ---- to-morrow?" - -"They do not come back till next week." - -"I am sorry for it; I wished to ask one of the girls to stay with Miss -Vernon, she will be all alone." - -"How long do you remain in town?" asked Lord Effingham, carelessly. - -"Until Friday; I cannot get off a dinner at Mrs. ----'s; and when I am -in town, I may as well stay and hear Sir Robert Peel speak on the ---- -Bill; they say it will come before the House on Thursday night. But I -am uneasy about leaving Kate." - -"Well, Miss Vernon, if you are inconsolable for the want of my cousin's -society, I will send an express to recall them." - -"Oh, I do not mind in the least," said Kate, hastily, "that is, of -course--" - -"Do not finish, Miss Vernon; you have deeply wounded my feelings for -those young ladies," returned Lord Effingham, smiling, then turning -to Lady Desmond; "I shall probably see you at the House on Thursday -evening; I should like to hear Sir Robert." - -And after a few more remarks the party separated. - -The next day was Wednesday; and Lady Desmond delayed her departure -for the dinner party at Mrs. ----'s, as late as she prudently could, -leaving Kate with evident reluctance, and even twice returning from -the door to give her some parting injunction, and another last kiss. -Kate felt in unusually good spirits; she was unspeakably grateful for -her cousin's affection. And nurse had proved a true prophetess; for -she had received a letter from Winter that morning, thanking her for -accepting his gift, and giving her his address at a little frontier -town, "where," he added, "if you write at once, I can receive a letter, -but after that, you must wait till you hear from me." Mrs. Winter, -he said, was beginning to get more reconciled to foreign ways. The -little artist was evidently enjoying himself; and the kind, cordial, -interested tone of her letter, short though it was, gave Kate a -sensation of light-heartedness to which she had been long a stranger. -She took a pleasant walk with nurse in Bushy Park, and made that worthy -individual join her at tea. - -Her first act, the next day, was to write a long and cheerful letter -in reply to Winter's. She dilated much upon the kindness she received -from Lady Desmond, on her contentment under her roof; yet she also -dwelt on her anxiety to embrace her tried and true friends once more; -and closed her letter with an exhortation as to their return before -the winter set in; this missive despatched, she determined to take -advantage of her unusually good spirits, and turning to the piano, -practised delightedly for nearly an hour. She fancied, as exercise -gradually restored flexibility to her voice, that it had acquired -more richness and power from its long rest; hitherto she had only -contributed instrumental music as her quota to the entertainment of her -cousin's guests, and she proceeded to try an air of Gilpin's, to which -she had adapted some lines of his sister's, thinking she would surprise -and please Lady Desmond on her return. The music, which was simple, but -most expressive, and very _sostenuto_, suited both her taste and her -powers; she lingered over it with a sense of keen enjoyment; and when, -at length, the last notes died away, she heaved a light sigh, partly -the effect of fatigue; it was echoed, and turning with a sudden start, -she beheld Lord Effingham standing near the window. - -"Can you forgive my ill-bred intrusion?" he said, advancing towards -her. "I have been calling on Colonel Dashwood; and walking round here, -before mounting my horse, saw the garden-gate open, heard music, -yielded to the temptation, and entered through the window." - -"But my cousin is not yet returned," said Kate, with a smile. - -"No, she does not return till to-morrow. I was aware of that; but I was -not aware that you sang, and sang as you do. Why have I never heard you -before?" - -"I have not felt inclined to hear my own voice." - -"And I," interrupted Lord Effingham, "would never desire to hear any -other! speaking or singing, it is ever music to me!" - -Kate stepped back in amazement at this address, incapable of reply; and -Lord Effingham, after a short pause, as if expecting her to speak, went -on rapidly-- - -"The words, 'I love you,' are too miserably weak to express what I -feel. I have waited long to discover what your feelings are; you have -not afforded me the slightest clue to them. I can endure your strange -unconsciousness no longer, and am determined to lay mine bare before -you in unmistakeable array. Kate! Miss Vernon, I know our natures are -wide apart as heaven and earth, but still I can feel, in my inmost -heart, that you have attained to a better and purer atmosphere than I -have ever breathed. I know, that in your hands, I should be different -from what I am. I tell you, that every shadow of good in me clings -round you; and if you do not love me now, at least think before you--" - -"Lord Effingham," cried Kate, covering her face with one hand, and -extending the other before her, "give me a moment's thought to -distinguish if this be not some horrid dream!" - -"No, it is no dream, Miss Vernon," said Lord Effingham, recalled, by -her evident alarm, from his passionate outburst. - -She uncovered her eyes, and looking steadily at him, exclaimed-- - -"How could you act with such dissimulation? Why have you so deceived -us?" - -"I have not deceived you; nor am I answerable for the self-deception of -others; but this is no answer." - -"But my cousin, Lady Desmond," resumed Kate, still too bewildered to -think of, or choose her words, "you love her. What, what is the meaning -of this extraordinary address to me?" - -Lord Effingham's pale, dark cheek did not change its colour by a shade; -his firm, resolute mouth assumed even a sterner expression than usual, -as he replied-- - -"Think over the past few months, and say honestly has there been a -trace of the lover discoverable in my manner towards your cousin; -except by eyes prompted to find out what did not exist." - -"But," said Kate, anxious to screen her cousin, and not to admit too -much, though ill able to cope with the far-seeing accomplished man of -the world, "people said you were engaged to her, you must have loved -her." - -"Never," cried Lord Effingham. "Why talk of Lady Desmond? I never -loved her--I may have admired her. I may have liked to feel my power -over a proud spirit; but you, and you only, have I ever loved--loved -with all the energy of my better nature; hear me, Kate!" and he threw -himself at her feet; "do not turn from me with such repugnance--I -will wait patiently till you think differently of me. I have -overcome difficulties for far lesser objects; for you I will conquer -myself--speak to me. I have borne suspense long, in silence--can you -love me?" - -"No," said Kate, deliberately drawing the hand he had seized, quickly -from his grasp, "I cannot love you, for I cannot trust you; you think -you love _me_, because you see you have no influence over my heart; -Lord Effingham, you do not know what love is, you must change your -nature first." - -"Ha," said he, quickly, and sullenly, "but you do, you love another." - -"I entreat of you to leave me, and end this distressing scene, I feel -too shocked, too agitated to speak more to you; go, Lord Effingham, and -let us not meet again." - -"I _will_ see you again, however," replied Lord Effingham. "Think, -Miss Vernon, think, before you utterly reject me; I love you, I did -not know I was capable of the love with which you have inspired me; I -am cold and indifferent to the world, the warmth and tenderness of my -inmost heart shall be lavished on you; you like to help those who are -in distress; think what ample means of good would be at the disposal of -the Countess of Effingham! What is there in me so repellant to you?" - -"This is useless my Lord, I have never thought of you even as a friend; -yet I do not wish to speak harshly. You do not know the injury this -unfortunate disclosure will prove to me--I--." - -"There can be no necessity to inform your cousin of what has passed. -Let me come here as before, and endeavour to----." - -"No!" cried Kate, indignantly, "I have been too long, unconsciously, -aiding deception that I abhor, and my first act, when we meet, shall be -to inform my cousin most fully. Now go! I beg you will leave me, Lord -Effingham," she added, with an air of decision and _hauteur_. - -"I obey you, but I do not, and will not consider the subject ended -here." He drew nearer, looked at her a moment, and exclaimed, "No, I -will not easily relinquish the brightest hope my life ever held out." -Then turning away quickly, stepped through the window, descended from -the verandah, and was out of sight before Kate could draw the long -breath of relief with which she hailed his departure. - -She little knew the trial yet awaiting her, though she looked forward -with no small dread to the task of disclosing this strange interview to -her cousin. - -Wrapt in mingling emotions of amazement and alarm, Kate had not heard -a light step in the adjoining room; and Lord Effingham, too much -engrossed by the passion of the moment, was equally regardless. Both -had been standing near the window by which he had entered, while -an unseen witness gazed with the fascination of dismay and bitter -mortification, through the opposite door, which was partly open. - -Something had occurred to postpone the debate which Lady Desmond had -wished to hear; and scarcely regretting the disappointment in her -anxiety to return to Kate, had left town early, and on her arrival at -home, having asked if Miss Vernon was at home, and being answered -in the affirmative, walked at once to the morning-room they usually -occupied; as she crossed the drawing-room communicating with it, she -heard, to her astonishment, Lord Effingham's well-known voice, at the -moment he raised it exclaiming--"Why talk of Lady Desmond? I never -loved her, &c."--and reached the door in time to see him at Kate's -feet, as she had longed to see him at her own. Every syllable of -that torturing sentence seemed burning into her heart, as retaining -sufficient self-command to retire, unseen, she rushed to her own -chamber to hide from every eye, but that of the All-seeing, the awful -agonies of a desolated spirit. - -With agonised distinctness, she reviewed the last three months, and in -the new and sudden light thus forced upon her, was compelled to own, -that, had not previous impressions blinded her judgment, she might have -seen she was not Lord Effingham's sole attraction in his frequent -visits. Then again came the recollection of a thousand allusions to -former scenes and passages in their intercourse, capable of a double -signification, on which she had put but one; a thousand looks and -tones, slight in themselves, but now irrefragable proofs that she had -been duped; and Kate, could she have been a party in the deception, -she to whom all the weakness, so carefully hidden from others, had -been fully displayed, she on whom Lady Desmond had ever looked as the -very personation of truth. Impossible! yet why was Lord Effingham -admitted secretly? Why did Kate seem so ready and willing to be left -alone? Why did she so pertinaciously endeavour to turn her from her -unfortunate attachment; and Lady Desmond groaned aloud as these, to -her tempest-tossed mind, incontrovertible proofs of treachery rose -up before it. "But his influence is irresistible, and how was she to -be wiser than I was. Why am I called beautiful?" And she flew to -the glass: it flung back the image of a countenance so darkened and -disturbed by the storm within, that she shrank from it. "Ah, she has -the lovely freshness of youth, and I, why have I outlived it?" Then -she remembered the evident joy of Lord Effingham, the first day he met -her at Richmond; she recalled the rapture with, which she had hailed -that joy, "and but for her all might have been well; if she had been -candid with me, how much I might have been spared; but such deliberate -treachery." And again and again did her troubled thoughts work round -the painful circle of unanticipated mortification which had so suddenly -risen up around her; each time returning with redoubled rage and -bitterness to Kate's supposed duplicity, for it never occurred to her -to doubt that Lord Effingham's love was reciprocated. - -How long she had lain, her head buried in the cushions of the sofa, -striving to find some loop-hole through which her wounded self-love -might creep from the storm that beat it to the ground she could not -tell. Ages seemed to have passed since she left the carriage, which had -conveyed her to so much misery; but at last the door was opened, and -Kate entered, she looked pale and agitated, and exclaimed-- - -"I had no idea you had returned, dear Georgy." - -Lady Desmond raised her eyes with such a look of dark resentment, of -concentrated indignation, that, innocent as she was, Kate recoiled -before it with the confusion of guilt. - -"Ay, shrink back from my presence," said her cousin, in low, deep -tones, as if she dared not lose control of her voice. "Traitress! long -practice might have taught you more art than to quail at my first -glance. Lord Effingham can place full faith in a wife, who, for months, -deliberately deceived and duped her friend, leading her to pour forth -the last secrets she would have confided to a rival. False, false -heart, I loved you, I trusted you; I heaped benefits upon you; I cared -for my wealth only because it might be of use to you; and, in return, -you have crept into the very sanctuary of my soul to rob and desecrate -it; is this the truth, the honor of D'Arcy Vernon's grand-child?" - -She had risen in her wrath, and stood--her long black hair thrown -wildly back--nervously grasping the back of the sofa, on which she had -lain, and gazing with pitiless eyes on the slight shrinking figure -before her. - -"Georgy, hear me, I implore you," cried Kate, trembling in every limb, -and feeling, in spite of her conscious rectitude, as though she was -guilty, before her cousin's impassioned reproaches. - -"Hush," returned Lady Desmond, with a wild gesture of command and -horror, "let me hear no well-arranged tissue of falsehoods. Your very -voice is pregnant with dissimulation; go--relieve me of the sight of so -much treachery." - -"Not till you have heard me," said Kate, with firmness, recalled, by -Lady Desmond's unjust reproaches, from the excessive commiseration -which at first had unnerved her. "Why do you suppose I am a -participator in Lord Effingham's deception? Why do you imagine that -an acquaintance of but three months' standing could so influence me, -as to change my entire previous principles? You are excited. You are -wretched. And God knows how deeply I feel for you; but, Georgy, do not -be unjust." - -"Oh I have the boon of your pity," returned Lady Desmond, between her -clenched teeth. "But I am not yet reduced to accept it. Lord Effingham -shall know how his future wife was trusted, and how she betrayed. Go--I -desire you to leave me; I can support your presence no longer." - -"I will leave you," said Kate, with mournful sweetness, "but I leave -you this solemn assurance, that however you may misjudge me, I would -rather die than wed a man I dread so much, and love so little, as Lord -Effingham." - -"Ha," said Lady Desmond, drawing a long breath, her wild indignant rage -stilled for a moment by the unmistakeable truth which spoke in Kate's -voice and manner. "I must think. But go, guilty or innocent, we can -never be the same to each other again." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -ARRANGEMENTS. - - -With every pulse tumultuously throbbing, Kate closed her door, and -sat down to attempt the disentanglement of the wild agitation and -confusion into which all her thoughts and anticipations had been thrown -by this dreadful outburst from her cousin. Never since the day that -Winter had first intimated to her his opinion of the state of their -affairs, had she experienced the same sudden sense of insecurity and -desolation. Then she had had a full and sufficient object, round which -to rally her energies and her courage; then she had had clear-headed -and warm-hearted friends to advise and to uphold her. Now the one only -friend, who was all that was left to her of the past, seemed suddenly -rent from her by the most cruel and injurious suspicions, and a great -gulf fixed between them. For Lady Desmond's last words--"Guilty or -innocent, we can never be the same to each other again"--rung in her -ears like an ill omened prophecy. Yet her own immediate suffering was -almost lost sight of in her deep compassion for, and sympathy with, her -cousin. - -She had anticipated a wild outbreak of indignant sorrow when Lady -Desmond should first hear the terrible solution of his mysterious -conduct, with which Lord Effingham had astonished the real object of -his affections. But that she should be accused of deliberate treachery, -of such complete and constant dissimulation, had never entered into her -heart to conceive. A warm flush of indignant color rose to her brow as -she thought of the injustice, and she murmured, almost aloud-- - -"She should have known me better. She who knew my childhood; how dare -she think me so inferior to herself? She must, when she is calmer, -acknowledge her error." - -Then Kate recalled to her memory the whole scene, and wondered, in -vain, how her cousin had been informed of Lord Effingham's presence, -and the purpose of his strange visit. Continued thought suggested that -she must have overheard what had taken place. Yet, if so, she must -have heard Kate's utter rejection of him--this was a painful enigma. -How--how was she to clear herself? She knew not from what source Lady -Desmond's impression arose, and she was utterly ignorant in what way -she should proceed to free her cousin's mind from the injurious doubts -which had taken possession of it; for her indignation was soon merged -in tender pity and compassion for her wretched relative. - -"Unhappy Georgy," she exclaimed, "not content with the real injury -and mortification you have sustained, you torture yourself doubly by -believing me--me, to whom you acted more than a sister's--a mother's -part--so false, so worthless; but how am I to justify myself? to -convince you?" - -Then rose up, in formidable array, the gossip of servants, and worse, -_dear friends_, to be met and silenced, and the anxious desire to -save her cousin's name from the flattering comments of the rather -unmerciful, though well-bred _coterie_, amongst whom they were placed. -Above all the predominant idea in poor Kate's mind was that her -interval of repose was at an end--that the only home to which she had -a shadow of claim was rent from her--that to remain the recipient of -benefits from an estranged benefactress, was impossible--that she -was indeed desolate. Mingling with all this, was the memory of her -grandfather's implicit trust, his unwearied tenderness--that it had -gone from her life _for ever_. - -Yes, she must go--she must seek some other home--she must earn one. And -nurse--her curiosity must be baffled. And time was stealing fast away -while she thought so painfully and ineffectually; something must be -done; and at once, she rose with a fervent ejaculation--"God guide me -for the best," and sat down to write to Lady Desmond. - -As she opened her desk, the recollection of the happy letter she had -that morning despatched to Winter flashed across her mind. - -"And when shall I hear from him again?" she thought--a glance at her -watch. "Ah, post-hour is long past; and what else could I write without -betraying Georgy? and she must be my first consideration. Would to -Heaven Mr. Winter was in England; but it is in vain to wish." - -And overpowered by her complete isolation, she threw herself on her -knees beside her bed, and, hiding her face in the clothes, gave way to -the thick coming sobs that shook her frame, and ceased only when they -had exhausted the power to express such emotion. - -At length she arose, calmed by this outburst, and restored to more -faith than she had hitherto felt by the unspoken prayer, in which she -had silently laid the grief she was incapable of uttering before the -All-seeing and Mighty Spirit, who alone witnessed her sorrow, pressing -her hand against her forehead, as if to condense her thoughts, she -wrote: - - "I must see and speak to you. Have you not thought, in the silence - of the last few hours, of a thousand indications that I am not the - base wretch you fancied me. Remember, we have shared the same home, - where the very soul of honour presided. Look into your own heart, see - how far that has impressed you, and judge me by yourself. I never - overcame, although I tried, the secret repugnance with which Lord - Effingham inspired me--an instinct which his conduct this day has - justified; and until this day, I had not the remotest idea of his - preference for me. Be just, Georgina, my own dear cousin. Oh, with - what true, what unbroken affection I write these words. You cannot - doubt me. - - "I must see you--there is much for us to arrange--and at once; we must - guard ourselves from the animadversions of the people about us; let me - see you; tell me why--tell me what suggested the terrible reproaches - with which you overwhelmed me? I have ever loved you--ever linked you - with all that is dearest and most sacred in my memory. Oh, judge me by - your own heart, and say could a stranger, a man known but yesterday, - of whose previous conduct, selfish, petty, unmanly, as it was, I was - fully aware; could he make me so utterly forget my holiest memories, - my deepest obligations, my loyalty to my sex, my faith to you! in much - you are my superior; but I am as true to you as you are to yourself." - -She read this over, felt dissatisfied with it, yet despairing of -writing anything that could please her more, hastily added--"I wait -your reply," signed her name, and, unlocking her door, stole lightly -to Lady Desmond's, she knocked, and, after a short delay, Lady Desmond -asked, in a constrained voice-- - -"Is that Louise? I have a dreadful headache, and am lying down--I -cannot be disturbed." - -"It is not Louise--I have a note for you." Another pause, and the door -was unlocked. Lady Desmond, still in her carriage dress, put out her -hand, silently took the note, and closed the door. - -Kate again returned to her own room and to her troubled thoughts, -thankful for nurse's absence, unusual at that hour, and feeling -somewhat relieved by having put things _en train_ for an interview with -her cousin; her natural fortitude, of which she possessed so much, -began to rise out of the terrible wreck of pleasant things which had -weighed it down, and to consider the future with greater clearness, -when Louise entered about an hour after the delivery of the note to -Lady Desmond, and close upon their usual dinner hour. - -"Miladi's love, and she is not at all well; she wish to see -_Mademoiselle sur l'instant_." - -Kate would have faced the most deadly peril with far less tremor than -her really much-loved cousin; she felt, however, that the message -sounded friendly, little imagining that "Miladi's love" was an addition -of Louise's, who never could conceive one to Miss Vernon unprefaced by -some such sugary prefix. Kate found Lady Desmond lying on the sofa, -looking deadly pale and exhausted; she held the note in her hand. - -"You are right," she exclaimed abruptly, as Kate shut the door and -stood before her; "we have much to arrange, for inaction is torture." -Her voice sounded deep and broken, different from its usual harmonious -refinement. She rose and paced the room. "Your note has raised a -thousand recollections which range themselves on your side, Kate. I -must, I dare not doubt you; there would be no confidence left to me on -earth if I did!--let us mention it no more. No!" motioning Kate back, -as she sprang to throw her arms round her at these words--"I am in no -mood for tenderness. Whether intentionally or not you have inflicted -terrible sufferings upon me. I repeat, I cannot doubt you--it would -be too revolting--I could not endure such a double trial. I may be -very wrong, but I cannot look upon you as I did, not yet at least; and -your question, how I acquired the accursed knowledge, I will never -answer, and you must never ask again: he need not have enhanced his -love for you by his triumph over me!" She muttered these words between -her teeth, glancing darkly at Kate. "I sent for you," she resumed -hurriedly, "for your note reminded me of what was due to myself. We -must subdue ourselves, and act our part for the audience of Hampton -Court. I have thought of a plausible tale; attend to me; learn your -part, and remember you owe me the reparation of performing it well. I -am not well. God knows that is true! I have received news that compels -me to leave for Ireland as soon as I can. We will endure each other -for a week, Kate. I little thought I could ever speak so to you. My -own dear Kate, come--yet, no, no! I cannot embrace you. Oh! I am most -miserable, to be debarred in this wretchedness from the only sympathy -that could have soothed me." - -"But you have it," answered Kate, in accents of the softest, deepest -tenderness. - -"I will not have your pity," resuming her troubled walk. "I will not -have that Devil sneer at my credulity. I will wait and see before I -take you to my arms again. Yes, we must part for a time. I could not -bear the alternate affection for, and doubt of you, which sweep across -my mind. I will see if he cannot yet prevail on you to overcome that -repugnance which--pah! repugnance to _him_! Well, Kate, do not mind me; -I cannot speak coherently; remember we have a part to play for a while -together, then separately; and where--where can you go? I am selfish--I -hate myself; but for a short time we will separate; and Kate, you will -not disdain--you will not forget it is my duty to provide for you. I -promised your grandfather!--and, oh! heavens, how am I fulfilling the -guardianship I undertook! But you will command all that your lightest -fancy may prompt. I am rich, and after a while we will be together." - -"Georgy," said Kate, with calmness inexpressibly sad, "I see you do not -yet believe me, but in time you must; till then we need not embitter -each other's lives. When you leave this for Ireland, I will go to -Mrs. Storey; she has often invited me; from that I can write to you. -The Winters will be home ere long, and when, in God's good time, you -_know_ that I never deceived or betrayed you, we will meet again. I -have enough for every present want, and you must not think me so much -beneath yourself that I would accept the charity of her who thinks me -unworthy. There is only one favour I must ask--it is to help me in -keeping nurse--my poor dear nurse--(the only one who still loves and -trusts Kate Vernon)--in the dark as regards this unhappy breach; it -would break her heart if she knew of it--" - -"I will do as you desire; but, Kate, you must allow me----" - -"Hush!" said Kate, with a slight but inexpressibly dignified gesture of -rejection, that compelled Lady Desmond to silence. "I am most anxious -about nurse; I cannot take her with me, and I feel her to be a friend -too dear, too closely associated with all I love, to part from as I -would a common servant;" and the swelling of Kate's heart at the idea -of breaking this last link choked her utterance. - -"She shall come with me--she shall stay with me," said Lady Desmond -eagerly, "until you join me again; it is natural that you should accept -Mrs. Storey's invitation, still more so that you should not crowd -her establishment unnecessarily. Nurse will surely not object to a -separation for a few weeks, she will not think it strange." - -"Leave nurse to me," said Kate, anxious to relieve her cousin's mind of -the slight uneasiness which inflected her voice; "she will be difficult -to manage, but you may trust me with _her_." - -"There is nothing to be managed," said Lady Desmond, with cold hauteur. -"But we have agreed to endeavour to avoid any gossip that might arise -from ----; though why should I fear any. You will write to Mrs. -Storey, and see nurse, and to-morrow----." Lady Desmond paused, gazed -stedfastly at vacancy, and then drawing a long breath, continued, in a -tone of intense resolution, "To-morrow I shall receive those people as -usual." - -"Oh, impossible," cried Kate, in genuine anxiety that her cousin should -not overtask her strength. - -"Why impossible, Miss Vernon?" asked Lady Desmond, in a constrained -voice. "Does your 'instinctive repugnance' to Lord Effingham permit -so high an estimate of his fascinating powers, that you imagine -self-esteem and self-respect rendered incapable of acting under his -indifference; you little know me. I tell you, if he presents himself -here to-morrow evening, neither of you shall see the slightest change -in my manner--neither of you shall see a trace of the torture--" - -"Georgy, dear Georgy," cried Kate, whose candid mind revolted from -the strange constraint forced on it by her cousin, "be just to me, be -merciful to yourself, I know it is agony to doubt me." - -"God knows it is," she returned, "but at present I cannot trust you or -any one, my soul is embittered; time only can show me the truth; and -restore me to myself--to you. Kate, if you have deceived me; no! you -could not! there is no falsehood in that face! Oh that I could read -your heart; _if_ you have deceived me, God forgive you, if not, bear -with me, pardon me." - -Her voice sank to the softest, tenderest accents, "Remember, I never -had the holy love for father or mother to fill and soften my heart; to -teach it true affection; to plant in it a pure unselfish principle, -a sacrificing spirit whereby to test the seeming passion offered -to me. _You_ have known this, you have this invaluable touchstone, -this unerring balance wherewith to weigh the false jewels which -hollow-hearted men of the world offer, in exchange for real gems, fresh -truth and warm devotion. Yes you may have weighed his and found them -wanting; but you could never love him, as I do, as I did; we are alike, -as substance and shadow, there is not a change of his countenance, an -inflection of his voice that I cannot read; shame shame to speak so! -and I have known so little happiness, I have sought my whole life for -some unknown treasure to catch the first glimpse of it as it was lost -to me for ever." - -And at last the dark, burning eyes were suffused with the blessed -refreshment of tears; but Lady Desmond's were always stormy tears; and -Kate stole nearer to her in the tenderest most loving sympathy for that -poor, proud, wounded heart--yet silently, for she feared the sound of -her voice might recall her cousin's suspicions, and she would spurn her -from her--kneeling at her feet and kissing the hand that hung down in -inactivity bespeaking the language of despair. - -At last Lady Desmond pressed the hand that held hers so lovingly, and -drawing Kate slightly to her, muttered in tones more like her own than -Kate had yet heard, "leave me now, while I feel I have wronged you, ask -me no more at present," and grateful even for these words Kate slowly -retired. - -The next evening did indeed display the wonderful strength which pride -can lend a mortified spirit, never had Lady Desmond played the part of -a gracious graceful hostess to greater perfection; the only difference -which Kate's watchful eye could detect, was a slight increase of -animation in her manner, and of brilliancy in her conversation; just -enough to lead careless observers to imagine that she enjoyed the -prospect of her intended visit to Ireland, which with many politely -expressed regrets she announced to her company. - -The evening glided on with more than usual agreeability, to the -guests at least; the only grave faces present were Miss Vernon's and -Colonel Dashwood's, he seemed quite upset by the intelligence of -their approaching departure, and joined but little in the noisy and -probably sincere regrets of the rest. Burton was there, he had not -been a frequent guest, having been generally quartered with another -detachment. "I regret to find that you are going to leave this place, -Miss Vernon, just as I am about to take up my abode in it," said Burton -during the loudest notes of a bravura sung by Miss Meredyth, "I have -heard so much, yet I seem doomed to see so little of you." - -"I did not know I was so famous," replied Kate, absently. - -"Nor am I the only one, 'left lamenting,' by this sudden flight; look -at Dashwood! then we all fear that Miss Vernon will not return from -Ireland," said Burton. - -Kate, whose attention was fixed upon the opening door answered by a -smile so palpably _distrait_, that Burton, fancying he guessed the -secret of her watchfulness, smiled too as he thought of the sincere -affection with which she had inspired his absent friend, and said -to himself, "She would be a happier woman following Fred. on a -baggage waggon, than riding over the world in that _roué_ Effingham's -coronetted carriage. She does not think so at present however, _ainsi -va le monde_." - -Here the song ended, and Miss Vernon was called on to play; she thought -sadly of her yesterday's practice and its unhappy termination, and -it required no small effort of self command to take her place at the -piano; she played mechanically, and without her usual soul-touching -expression. - -"Pray Lady Desmond," she heard Mrs. Meredyth ask, "can you give me any -account of my nephew Effingham; will he be here this evening?" - -"I really do not know," replied Lady Desmond in wonderfully natural, -unconstrained tones, "Miss Vernon, I fancy, saw him last; did Lord -Effingham say he would come here this evening, Kate?" - -"He said nothing, that is, I do not remember," replied Kate, confused -and astonished at the coolness of this appeal. Lady Desmond glanced -at her one speaking look that roused her to instant self-possession, -though it made her heart beat. - -"I am told, Lord Effingham started this morning for the Isle of Wight," -said Colonel Dashwood with a gravity unusual for him. "Hauton was -over at Richmond and heard it there, something about his new yacht I -believe, they said he will return next week." - -"_Figurez vous_," cried the second Miss Meredyth whose style was -foreign and fantastic, "my cousin's dismay when he returns and finds -Lady Desmond flown." - -"Perhaps it will be no great surprise to him," said Colonel Dashwood in -a low voice to Kate. - -"Yes, I am sure it will," she replied. - -Lady Desmond invited the whole party, then assembled, to meet again, -on the Wednesday evening following at her house; her last evening she -said, as she intended starting on Thursday for London to Ireland. - -"Kate," she observed carelessly to one or two of her latest guests -"is not half so true an Irishwoman as I am; she will not, I believe, -accompany me at once, but lingers for a few weeks with some friends in -town." - -Kate felt the tears rise to her eyes at hearing the separation so -deplored, so dreaded by her, thus indifferently announced by her -cousin, and she stood silent and dejected by the piano. - -After they were left alone, Lady Desmond threw herself into an arm -chair and covering her face with her hands groaned aloud, then looking -up, after a moment's silence, she showed a countenance so changed, so -haggard, now that the strong curb of her will over her secret emotions -was relaxed, that Miss Vernon absolutely started with surprise. - -"Have you written to Mrs. Storey?" - -"Yes." - -"Have you spoken to nurse?" - -"No; I thought it best to defer that until I got an answer." - -"As you choose." - -She rose slowly, and walked to the door, then turning, said-- - -"I have accepted every invitation offered to me--we have not an evening -disengaged; but if you feel bored by them, or wish, for any reason, to -remain at home, do not think yourself obliged to accompany me." She -bowed, then again pausing. "You look wearied, Kate, would you like -nurse to sleep in your room?" - -"No." - -"Solitude is best for both, I believe." - -And she left the room gloomily, darkly. - -Kate felt relieved when she was gone, and retired quickly. To pray to -God, to think long and painfully, to count the night-watches, and, at -last, to sink into a sound, sweet sleep, and charming but indistinct -dreams of her cousin clasping her to her heart, and entreating -forgiveness for the wrong she had done her. - -"Is it very late, nurse?" she asked, on opening her eyes the following -morning, and seeing her faithful friend standing by the bed-side. - -"No, agrah, not to say late; but me lady is aitin' her breakfast up in -her own room, an' I wanted to rouse ye up to have a word wid ye, afore -she was callin' fur ye. Will ye have a little taste iv toast an' a cup -iv tay quite an' aisy up here?" - -"Yes, thank you, nurse, I should like it very much. I will ring -presently." - -Mrs. O'Toole re-appeared with a most tempting round of buttered toast, -a tiny tea-pot, and a capacious cup, and placed them before her -nurseling. - -"There, ait a bit, jewil; an' tell me what's the manin' iv this -scrimmige iv movin' all iv a suddin'?" - -"I thought you were aware that Lady Desmond intended going to Ireland -when we left this?" - -"To be sure, I did--but sure, isn't it mighty suddint? an' are we to be -off body an' bones on Thursday next?" - -"Yes, nurse, I believe so." - -"An' now, Miss Kate, agrah, will ye tell me, is it a weddin' we're -goin' to have, or what, fur I feel that somethin' quare's goin' on!" - -"Oh, there is nothing the matter, nurse. I believe," she continued, -after a short pause, during which she summoned all her resolution to -speak easily and unconstrained, "that is, I think I must stay for a few -weeks with Mrs. Storey." - -"What, not go wid us at wanst to Ireland!" ejaculated Mrs. O'Toole, -holding the tea-pot, from which she was in the act of replenishing her -nurseling's cup, still suspended, in sheer amazement. "What's that for? -sure, yer not goin' to send me off wid me lady! if yer not comin' wid -us now, sure. I'll have to come for ye; ye can't travel be yerself; an' -I'd betther stay wid ye." - -"But Mrs. Storey has not room, I fear," said Kate, falteringly. - -"I don't want to be behoulden to her fur her room; sure, I could get a -place convanient for meself; there's lashins iv poor places good enough -for the likes iv me about Bayswather to stop in; what would ye do -widout me?" - -"What indeed!" echoed Kate, throwing herself into nurse's arms; and -worn out by the long constraint she had laboured under, she burst into -an irrepressible flood of tears, while Mrs. O'Toole hushed and soothed -her, as in her childish days. - -"There now, hush, darlint; tell me what it vexes ye?" - -"I am so afraid you will think me ungrateful and selfish, dear nurse," -began Kate, in broken accents, interrupted by sobs. "You see I am -particularly anxious to stay in London for a while; and if--if I was -richer, and could pay for your lodgings, and all that, do you think I -could ever part with you, even for a short season, dearest, kindest -friend; but I am not; and I will not let you waste the little you have -on my account. No, you will go with Lady Desmond to Ireland, as she -wishes, till I join her." - -Mrs. O'Toole seemed plunged in thought, and rolled her arms in her -apron, a favourite attitude with her, indicative of deep reflection. - -"But will ye come back?" she asked, at last, with a keen glance, "an' -whin? there's somethin's throublin' ye, jewil, though ye'll not spake -out, an' me heart's oneasy; sure, ye wouldn't let me go from ye, if ye -wern't manin' to come back to me; sure, ye wouldn't thrate me that a -way, me own child?" - -"God knows," cried Kate, "it is hard enough to part with you, although -I most firmly purpose to be with you ere long; but to say good bye in -earnest would be death to me." - -"An' why need ye stay wid thim Storeys that arn't yer aiquils at all? -Ah! where's the use of sthrivin' to decave me. Have you an' me lady -fell out, asthore?" - -This question was put with a concentration of anxiety and curiosity -which might have raised a smile to the lips of a casual observer, but -which only served to fill up the measure of Kate's perplexities--her -equally balanced cares--not to betray her cousin, and not to wound -nurse, placing her in a double difficulty. - -"No, no! quarrel with my dear, kind Georgy! Never, I trust; but, in -short, dearest nurse," she continued, with great earnestness, "it -would be a source of the greatest comfort to me, to know that you were -safe and free from every want, in an establishment such as hers. I am -powerless to afford any aid or protection to my oldest, truest friend," -pursued Kate, large tears weighing down her eyelashes. "And after years -of faithful, constant, self-devoted service, I must owe to another the -shelter I cannot give you. Ah! it is a hard fate!" - -She hid her face on nurse's shoulder. - -"Och! don't be talking that away, jewil!" ejaculated Mrs. O'Toole. -"Sure, haven't I a power iv money I got in yer sarvice that Misther -Winter put into the bank fur me? I'll do what iver mee sweet child -likes; but faith! I don't want shelther from any one. I'm not past mee -work yet, And if ye will have me go from ye, I'll just stop wid me lady -fur three weeks or a month; an' at the ind of that time, if yer not -comin' to us, I'll come fur ye. Sure, yer in the right iv it not to let -Lady Desmond get too accustomed to ye; faith, it's sick she'd be if an -angel from Heaven afther a bit; it's well fur her the masther (the Lord -rest his sowl,) wasn't that sort." - -"Dear nurse," said Kate, raising her tearful face, and speaking in -broken accents, "why will you distress me by assuming a severe tone -towards my kind cousin; she is all that the most exacting could wish. -Oh! I have many difficulties before me. How! how! can I part with you?" - -"An' why do ye ask me to lave ye?" - -"It must be so," she returned, with more decision than she had yet -shown. "And, I will not deceive you, my own, dear nurse--it may be some -months before we meet again." - -"Och! where are ye goin' to stop bee yerself, Miss Kate? What -mischief's brewin' at all? An' what would the masther say if he could -look down on us to see me goin' off in pace and plinty, and you -wandherin' through the world alone? Sure, I'd see his sperrit, it -couldn't rest in Heaven itself, if you wasn't rightly attended to." - -"God forbid he should feel distress about me," sighed Kate. "He is at -last free from sin and sorrow--that is my great consolation! But my -plans are very simple. After being with Mrs. Storey for a while, I -shall probably go to some other friends, and move about; so you see you -could not exactly come with me. Then, when Mr. and Mrs. Winter return, -which, I trust, they will do before October, they know and value you, -and will gladly let me have you; or, probably, before I go to stay -with them, I may join my cousin; in either event, we shall be together; -and so far as a weak mortal can purpose, I resolve to separate from you -no more. Can you consent to this?" - -Nurse, resting her elbows on her knees, and covering her face in her -hands, rocked herself in silence for a few moments, then with a deep -sigh, almost a groan, said-- - -"I see it's no use talkin', I must go from you--and I'll nivir hear the -thruth if what's goin' on! Och, I little thought I'd iver be parted -from mee own child--the core iv mee heart ye wor--ye nivir slept a -night from ondher the same roof wid me but wan, and that was the time -ye met the Captin, and I'll nivir believe but that'll turn out luck -yet! so I'll do yer biddin', agra! and sure the masther 'ill see it's -only yez own word would part us; an' look here, avourneen, I'll always -keep the price if mee journey by me, and the wind iv a word will bring -me to ye any day--remimber that!" - -"I will remember, nurse. Ah! dearest, kindest, hold me to your -heart--close--there is none other beats so truly for your Kate--none -loves her so well, now grandpapa is gone." - -"Faith, there is'nt wan thruer to ye on airth, than mine, as sure -as yer lyin' on it. There was wan more loved ye well, besides the -masther and me--if iver man loved mortial, the Captin loved the sight -iv ye--an' well he might, many's the time I watched his face brighten -up when he heard yer voice, an' wancest I seen him take the glove ye -dropped an' kiss it, as I would the cross! and mark my words--ye'll -see him yet--och, sure there's some brightness fur us ondher all this -sorra! an' don't sob that away, jewil--if you don't come to me, faith -I'll come to you." - -This last week at Hampton Court was one of unmixed suffering to Kate. -Lady Desmond was cruelly capricious in her tone and manner to her -innocent cousin. At one moment Kate fancied she could perceive rapidly -returning confidence and affection--the next, some stern look, or -icy word, implied suspicion and dislike; nothing wounded Miss Vernon -so much as the assumption of her old tenderness before any third -party, and the instant return to coldness and estrangement, when that -restraint was removed. - -Sometimes Kate's gentle but high spirit was roused to indignation, -which lent her a momentary strength; but this was soon dissolved by the -compassion with which she viewed the intense and unremitting struggle, -which thus clouded Lady Desmond's better judgment. - -Miss Vernon was thoroughly convinced before the day of their departure -arrived, that to live with Lady Desmond in her present mood, was indeed -impossible; and that her only chance for preserving a hold on her -cousin's heart, was absence. The approaching separation from nurse was -ever present with her--from Lady Desmond, she felt, that for a while it -would be a relief to part. - -Meantime, Mrs. Storey wrote in most cordial terms, to express the -pleasure she felt in expecting Miss Vernon as a guest; and all things -progressed smoothly for the cousins' plans. - -The last evening, Kate felt real alarm, at the strange brilliancy of -her cousin's eyes, and the unwonted animation of her manner. She had -passed the greater part of the day alone; and had once sent for Kate, -who found her terribly agitated, and evidently endeavouring to make up -her mind to something; after a few vague words, however, she begged -Kate to leave her--that she would defer all further arrangements till -they were in London; and as Miss Vernon was leaving the room, begged -her to keep guard over herself, in case any unexpected arrival should -startle her. "Do not betray me, Kate." Miss Vernon knew she alluded -to Lord Effingham--but since the fatal day she had overheard his -declaration, she had never breathed his name to her; but the evening -wore on, and to Kate's infinite relief, he did not make his appearance. - -Kate never quitted any place with so little regret, as Hampton Court; -though, at first, she had liked it much--difficulties soon gathered -round her--difficulties, such as she had never before encountered; but -she was wofully depressed--Lady Desmond had put a finishing stroke to -her low spirits, by enquiring if she would like to drive directly to -Mrs. Storey's, or go with her to Mivart's in the first place. This -readiness to get rid of her on the part of her natural protectress, -threw a sad feeling of gloom and loneliness over poor Kate's heart, -and it was some moments before she could reply. Her first impulse was -to accede at once to the proposition, which would have relieved her -cousin of her irksome presence; but an instant's thought, showed her -two potent reasons for a different line of conduct--first, she must -cling as long as she possibly could to nurse--secondly, she knew Mrs. -Storey did not expect her till the next day, so having glanced at these -motives, and swallowed a rising inclination to sob, she answered, with -a certain degree of reproachful sadness-- - -"I do not think Mrs. Storey expects me till to-morrow; and if you can -bear my presence a little longer, I should prefer waiting till then. -Dear cousin, though you are weary of me, I think of our parting with -grief, and regret." - -"Oh, Kate, Kate," cried Lady Desmond, pressing her handkerchief to -her eyes "would to God, I could blot out the last few months--I feel -I am utterly neglecting my bounden duty in thus leaving you--but -it is better for both of us, at least for awhile! Do you forgive -me? you would if you knew the wretched sea of doubt and difficulty -and suspicion in which my weary spirit is tossed! I should make you -miserable if you stayed with me." - -"I am most fully determined, even if you were not so inclined, to leave -you; at present it is quite as much my choice, as yours--do not grieve -about that--but--but, dear Georgy, do not seem so anxious to get rid of -me!" - -"What a selfish, worthless wretch I have become," said Lady Desmond, -with sudden remorse, "I am not the same for an hour--at this moment I -would fain keep you with me to the last! but Saturday, the day after -to-morrow, I leave for Ireland; till then, you shall stay with me--you -would like to stay with nurse, at all events--how could I forget, ah! -Kate forgive me! you may, you ought; God knows how much misery you have -caused me," she ended bitterly. - -Kate sighed to see how implacable were the suspicions entertained -by Lady Desmond; and the rest of the journey was performed in almost -unbroken and melancholy silence. - -Miss Vernon wrote a line, to announce her arrival in town, to Mrs. -Storey; and then, leaving her cousin to receive the thousand and one -visitors, who flocked to remonstrate with, and exclaim at her strange -whim of performing a personal, and purgatorial progress to her estates -in Ireland, she sought the society of poor nurse, who was plunged into -the deepest affliction-- - -"I'll never forgive mee Lady Desmond, fur lettin' ye stay behind this -away. There's no use in talkin' but I know there's been some ruction -betune yez--any ways, I'll do yer biddin', an' stay out the four weeks -wid her; but afther that, don't lay a vow upon me, avourneen! an' ye'll -write me long letthers." - -"Write! Ah, yes, it will be my only comfort until we meet--for we -must--we shall meet soon again." - -And Miss Vernon threw herself on nurse's bosom, overpowered by the -feelings she had so long suppressed. Long and passionately did she -weep--and nurse, nobly hushing her own grief, strove to cheer her -child, whose unwonted emotion absolutely frightened the honest, -warm-hearted woman. Gradually Kate listened to her words, rallied -herself from the flood of bitterness which had swept over her spirit, -and after some desultory and mournful conversation, obeyed nurse's -kindly command. - -"There's no use talking any more darlin, you must go to yer bed." - -Kate, fatigued by the tears and sorrow of the day, was soon wrapped in -sleep; and nurse bent over her long and tenderly as she lay, one long -wavy tress escaping from the deep lace of her cap, her hands crossed -upon her bosom, which heaved slightly with each regular softly drawn -breath, the rosy lips apart, while - - "On her snowy lids, whose texture fine - Scarce hides the dark blue orbs beneath, - The baby sleep--lies pillowed." - -As nurse gazed at this picture of profound and innocent repose, lovely -as sleeping youth must be, to every eye capable of acknowledging -beauty, all her own grief at the separation of to-morrow pressed quick -and stern upon her. - -"Ah, who'll watch over ye, pulse iv me heart? Who'll ye go spake to -when yer in throuble? Where will ye turn when yer sperrit scorns the -ways iv them that's about ye. Ah, where indeed! Oh, Mary, sweet queen -of heaven, look on ye. Sure ye niver had a purer heart than hers. -Blessed Jasus shield ye. Ah, Captin, agra, it's here ye ought to be, -with the warm heart an' the strong arm to hold her up through this -weary world." - -And sinking on her knees, nurse devoutly told her beads, often wiping -away the fast-falling tears, yet, with the peculiarity of her race, -fervently hoping through it all. - - "There is a prescience given to grief, - Which joy may never know, - A hope of future good, to cheer, - The ruggedness of woe! - It is the soul's deep whisper heard - When earth's rude tumult sleeps, - A moment hushed, when pain or grief, - Across the spirit sweeps. - Then through the gloom of doubt and dread, - An angel voice we hear, - Which speaks its inborn happiness, - Undimmed by grief or fear." - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -TERRA INCOGNITA. - - -"There is one thing more I wish to say to you, dearest nurse," said -Miss Vernon, as she was dressing to go to Mrs. Storey the morning after -the conversation above recorded; all her trunks and packages were lying -about the room in desolate disorder, and she was hurrying to join her -cousin at luncheon. - -"What is it, agra?" - -"Why, that cheque Mr. Winter sent me--Roberts got me the money for it." - -"Misther Roberts is a knowledgeable man." - -"But, nurse, this portion of it is for you." - -"Oh, blessed Vargin! look at this. Now, Miss Kate, do you think I'd be -afther robbin ye iv twenty pounds--and I wid a pile iv notes in the -savin's bank, if I could only get at them." - -"That is it, exactly," interrupted Miss Vernon, hastily, "you must have -money, and though you and I are on those terms, that we do not keep -debtor and creditor accounts, you know very well, I consider it not -only a pleasure, but a duty, to share with you whatever I possess, only -in this case, I have kept the lion's share--no more, nurse--you must -take it--I shall think you do not love me if you refuse." - -There was something so urgent in Miss Vernon's tones, that nurse felt -herself compelled to obey, _malgré lui_. - -"Sure I'll keep them fur ye." - -"Do what you will, nurse; but, remember, though I can, and may have to -bear much, I could not support the idea of your wanting any thing. One -kiss before I go down. How I wish Georgy would let you come with me to -Bayswater, and stay at home herself." - -"She hasn't so much sinse--though I'm sorry for her, she's in grate -throuble entirely about you going away--faith I begin to make it out." - -Lady Desmond was, as Mrs. O'Toole said, in great trouble, restless, -miserable, capricious; at one moment pressing Kate to change her plans, -and accompany her to Ireland, at another, evidently ready to facilitate -her departure, while she hurried her own preparations, yet showed a -disposition to linger within the charmed precincts where echo sometimes -conveyed a rumour of Lord Effingham's proceedings. - -He was still at Cowes, and the _Morning Post_ of that day gave an -account of a dinner given by him on board his new yacht, "The Meteor," -to all the celebrities of the R. Y. C. - -"That does not look like disappointment," thought Lady Desmond, as she -read, "time, and time only can satisfy me of the truth." - -She was silent during the repast, of which Kate strove to partake, and -rose at once, on Miss Vernon suggesting that she had promised to be -with Mrs. Storey at two. - -Nurse made her appearance as the cousins descended to the carriage. - -"Once more good-bye, kindest and best," said Kate, embracing her, and -trying to speak steadily. "Georgy," she continued, laying her hand -impressively on Lady Desmond's arm, "I know you love nurse for her own -sake. But, remember, I feel every kindness shown to her as intended for -myself." - -"You may trust nurse safely to me," replied her cousin; and they -entered the carriage. - -Kate leaned from it as long as nurse remained in sight, and often, -in after days, declared that the long earnest gaze, with which she -followed the retreating form so dear to her, impressed itself for ever -on her heart, and that nurse's figure, in her black dress and white -cap, as she stood shading her eyes with her hand, formed one of those -indelible pictures ever vivid, let unnumbered years roll by, with which -memory is at rare intervals stamped. - -Lady Desmond preserved an almost unbroken silence until they neared -their destination, and had reached the comparatively quiet region of -the parks, then turning to Kate, said-- - -"I suppose Mrs. Storey will not expect me to go in. I am in no humour -for her gossip." - -"Of course you need not if you do not like it; but--" - -"Oh, then I see I ought--yes, it will be more gracious. I would do -anything to serve or please you, my Kate," and she looked at her -mournfully and tenderly. - -Miss Vernon's eyes filled with tears; yet they were not unhappy tears. -She was thankful to bid her cousin adieu in this mood--for Kate set a -great value on last impressions. - -The sound of the carriage-wheels brought a rosy-cheeked, smiling -parlor-maid to the hall-door, while a row of small heads appeared -above the parlor blinds. Then ensued the lively bustle of lifting down -trunks, and carrying in carpet-bags; and the rosy parlor-maid ran -backwards and forwards, her little airy cap blown about by the light -breeze, quite in a twitter at being assisted, with much gallantry, by -so distinguished an individual as Lady Desmond's footman. - -"I am sure this is so kind of you, Lady Desmond; I did not expect the -pleasure of seeing of you. Miss Vernon, my dear, you are most heartily -welcome; the children have been looking out for you all day--my little -Willie has not forgotten you. You'll take some cake and wine--do?" - -"Thank you, no," said Lady Desmond. "We have lunched; and I only gave -myself a few moments, in which to say, how do you do, and good-bye. -I start to-morrow for Ireland, and have much to accomplish before -dinner-time." - -"Well, but you will sit down, and let me thank you for leaving Miss -Vernon with us awhile. My dear," to Kate, "you are not looking so -well--paler and thinner than when I saw you last--I am sure the air at -Hampton Court is beautiful and healthy. I never enjoyed anything so -much as the day I spent with your ladyship. I see my Lord Effingham is -in the Isle of Wight. I never met so nice a man as he is, and as simple -as a common person. I thought," again turning to Kate, "you would not -like to leave England somehow or other," and she laughed a significant -laugh that raised the blood in quick nervous blushes to Kate's cheek; -she glanced at Lady Desmond; but her brow was not more overcast than -before, and the entrance of the children prevented any further remark. - -The eldest boy--a fair-haired, bright-eyed child, just old enough to -be shy--stood awhile, his finger in his mouth, half hiding behind his -nurse-maid's apron, till Kate stretched out her arms. When, after a -moment's hesitation, he bounded into them, and they were as great -friends as ever. - -"Now that I have installed Kate in the bosom of your family, Mrs. -Storey, I must say good-bye," said Lady Desmond, rising. - -Kate put down little Willie, and stood up with a beating heart. - -"You will let me know immediately how you get over, and make nurse -write--give her my fond love, Georgy." - -"I will," said her cousin, who had taken a very gracious leave of Mrs. -Storey. She paused a moment, and, then folding her arms round Kate, -kissed her with all her old accustomed warmth, whispering--"Trust me -still!" and rapidly descending the stairs, was out of sight before -Kate could realise that she was really going. - -Miss Vernon turned from the window with a choking sensation in her -throat; the time was indeed come when she must struggle on alone. - -"So you are very glad to see Miss Vernon again, Willie?" asked the -proud mama, stroking his curls. - -"Yes," lisped Willie, pressing his little round cheek against Kate's -hand, and looking up in her face with such a bright loving glance, that -she felt irresistibly cheered by it. - -"Not more glad than I am to see Willie." - -She sat down, and took him into her lap. - -"We do not dine till six to-day," said Mrs. Storey; "you are accustomed -to late hours, and my brother said he would join us--you are such a -favorite with him." - -"You must not change your hours for me," returned Kate, "I know you -generally dine with the children, and I like dining early." - -"You are very good and obliging, I am sure. You see, Mr. Storey is so -late generally--but to-day he said he would make it a point to be home -early; he is so pleased you are to be with us." - -"I am very glad to hear it," said Kate, gratified at this cordiality. - -"And I expect to hear lots of news," resumed Mrs. Storey, significantly. - -"Indeed, I have none to tell," said Kate. - -"Well, well, we shall see. And how do you think the children looking? -Willie has had a sore throat--we were afraid it might end in -scarletina, &c., &c." - -And the good-natured gossip was merged in the anxious mother, who, -encouraged by Kate's ready attention, poured forth a string of -anecdotes, maternal and domestic, touching "baby's last tooth," and -"Maria's shameful neglect of her plate and glass." - -And Miss Vernon felt a sense of relief in hearing these natural, simple -details, which she usually voted extremely tiresome; but now, after -the agitations she had passed through, and the stormy passions she had -witnessed, anything indicative of home, with its calm atmosphere of -repose, and quiet duty, was refreshing to her. - -So instinctively conscious of more than usual sympathy in her listener, -Mrs. Storey chattered on uninterruptedly until it was almost time to -dress for dinner. - -Miss Vernon missed her affectionate motherly attendant as she arranged -her unpretending toilette for dinner. Not that she was incapable of -waiting on herself; but her dressing-room had always been the scene -of those confidential conversations in which Mrs. O'Toole's soul -delighted. She pictured to herself her loving and beloved nurse sitting -alone in some room of the busy, crowded hotel, her arms folded in her -apron, rocking herself to and fro, with no one near to whom she could -speak in the genuine accents of real sorrow. - -"My poor dear nurse, may God comfort you," murmured Kate; and then, -feeling her fortitude melting away before the picture she had conjured -up, she resolutely turned from it. "I have no right to damp the spirits -of these friendly people with my melancholy looks." - -So she braided her bright hair, and smiled at her pale cheeks, which -had lost the few roses they began to gather at Hampton Court: and -hearing some one trying to turn the handle of the door, opened it, and -admitted little Willie, with whom she descended to the drawing-room. - -"Well, indeed, my dear, you do not look so rosy or so bright as I would -wish to see you," said Mrs. Storey, "not but that you look pretty -always." - -"_Cela va sans dire_," interrupted Kate, smiling. - -"But," resumed Mrs. Storey, "what is the reason his lordship is gone to -the Isle of Wight?" - -"Will you believe me," replied Kate, gravely and impressively, "when I -assure you that I am equally ignorant of, and unaccountable for, Lord -Effingham's movements." - -The gravity of her manner silenced her loquacious hostess, and -immediately after Mr. Storey entered, accompanied by Langley. The -former greeted Kate with boisterous cordiality, the latter with sincere -though quiet pleasure. It was an additional trial to her, this meeting -with Langley, whom she had not seen since her grandfather's death; and -the contending memories which his presence recalled kept her silent, -while he expressed, in his usual shy, embarrassed manner, his happiness -in meeting her again. He was very taciturn at dinner, but this passed -unnoticed, as the host and hostess were really a host in themselves, at -least in the talking line. - -"I have to thank you for sending me Mr. Winter's letters so promptly," -said Kate, as they sat near each other at tea. "I am very anxious for -another, but do not know where to write;--and, Mr. Langley, why did you -never come to see me all the time I was at Hampton Court?" - -Langley coloured. - -"I do not know Lady Desmond," he said, "and you were all too fine and -gay for an obscure artist." - -"Gay," repeated Kate, looking at him reproachfully. - -"Well, too fine; I should not have felt at home there." - -"I should have been much pleased had you taken the trouble to pay me a -visit, and Hampton Court would have delighted you; but, of course, you -know it already." - -"Yes, I----" began Langley, again reddening, then interrupting himself -abruptly--"If I really thought you remembered, I was--that is, I did -not think you would notice it." - -"Ah! Mr. Langley," said Kate, with a pensive smile, "you feel guilty, -or you would not hesitate so much." - -"Had you there, Bill," cried Mr. Storey, with an agreeable wink; "the -ladies are never merciful when they catch us tripping." But Langley -deigned no reply. - -"I do not think Winter is inclined to come back," said he to Kate; -"he wrote me a few lines enclosing his last letter to you, in which -he says he should like to remain where he is until he had drawn the -whole country, natural and architectural, but that Mrs. Winter's absurd -prejudices against grease and fleas would, he feared, cut short his -enjoyment." - -"My dear William," cried his sister, raising her hands and eyes to -heaven, "what _will_ Miss Vernon think of you mentioning such dreadful -low vulgar words. I am sure I am thankful Lady Desmond's not here--what -would she say?" - -"I dare say her ladyship is aware that such an entomological variety -exists," returned Langley, drily. - -"Have you been very busy this summer," asked Kate, changing the subject -in compassion to her hostess. - -"Yes, no--that is, I have been busily idle." - -"Sketching, and not finishing," suggested Miss Vernon. "That was what -Mr. Winter used to call busy idleness." - -"You and Miss Vernon must look at my studio some day," said Langley to -his sister; "I have one or two pretty subjects in progress." - -"I shall be delighted," cried Kate. "I am always happy in a studio, -more so than even in a perfect gallery; besides, a studio always -reminds me of Mr. Winter," she added with such enthusiasm that her -listeners smiled. - -"I suppose you used to visit the pictures at Hampton Court frequently?" - -"Yes, yet not as often as I intended--something always happened to -interfere with our visits--and I am so fond of Vandyke: his men and -women are so noble-looking, one can hardly associate them with the -wretched period in which they lived; but I suppose his paintings -picture his own mind rather than the individuals he meant to depict." - -"Well, I would rather pay for my own portrait than another person's," -said Mr. Storey; "and I think Smith has hit off both myself and Mrs. S. -right well." - -"Your pictures are certainly very like," said Miss Vernon politely. - -"But the most unmitigated daubs," remarked Langley. - -"I never enjoyed any pictures so much as those at Hampton Court," -remarked Mrs. Storey. "But then Lord Effingham told me about them so -nicely; he knew them all." - -"Lord Effingham--a distinguished cicerone, Charlotte," remarked her -brother. "He was very well known in the London world some five or six -years ago, though one never heard much good of him--has he not been -abroad for a long time?" - -This question was addressed to Miss Vernon, in total disregard of Mrs. -Storey's energetic hems and warning frowns when he spoke disparagingly -of the earl. - -"He was for some time in Italy--my cousin knew him there," replied Kate. - -"I'm sure he seemed the quietest and most obliging man I ever met," -said Mrs. Storey eagerly; "and it is just envy because he is richer and -grander than themselves, that makes people tell ill-natured stories of -him." - -"I do not fancy Lord Effingham is an amiable man," said Kate, quietly; -"I do not think I ever saw him do the agreeable so readily as the day -you were with us." - -"Hum," said Langley, gravely. "Then it was you, Charlotte, that kept -his lordship on his P's and Q's. - -"Now, Miss Vernon, may we ask you for a little music?" - -"Not this evening, dear Mrs. Storey," said Kate, deprecatingly, and -shaking her head. "To-morrow as much as you like, but to-night I feel -quite unmusical." - -"Well, I dare say you feel low at parting with Lady Desmond," said Mrs. -Storey. - -"And nurse," added Kate. - -So the evening wore away, and at last Kate was free to retire to the -grateful solitude of her own room, to gather comfort and support from -"communing with her own heart," and finally to rest. - -The day at Mrs. Storey's was very tranquil and rather monotonous. The -eight o'clock breakfast was quickly followed by the departure of Mr. -Storey for the city, and the eldest girl to school. Kate volunteered -the task of inspecting Masters Willie and Bobby at their studies, -thereby affording another hour to their mamma for the dear delight of -the kitchen and the store-room. Kate saw little of her hostess before -the one o'clock dinner, until which time she pursued her practising or -her reading, her work or her thoughts uninterruptedly. - -Mr. Storey never returned to tea until seven o'clock, when he was -usually ravenous and inaudible until after the consumption of divers -viands. He often brought home some dapper city friend, with an evident -wish to make his house agreeable to Miss Vernon, and under the usual -impression entertained by men of his stamp, that beaux are a necessary -of life to young ladies. This was the only real drawback in Kate's -estimation to her _séjour_ at "Raby Villas"--the euphonious appellation -of Mr. Storey's abode. - -Mrs. Storey too meditated a party--for, with all her good nature, Kate -was a much more important personage in her estimation, fresh from the -society of earls and countesses--the _crême de la crême_--than when she -walked almost daily over to Brompton, with no attendant save a great -dog, and received three and sixpence a lesson for music. - -The letters for which Kate had looked so anxiously were as usual in -cases of anticipation, disappointing and perplexing; they did not -arrive till the day after that on which they might have reached; Lady -Desmond's ran thus:-- - - "DEAR KATE, - - "Though peculiarly averse to writing, I feel I must keep my promise - to you. We had a tiresome journey and a rough passage, but except - fatigue, I am well enough; nurse who has had red eyes ever since she - bid you good bye, desires her love and duty, and says she will not - write this time; she has just been sitting with me; I was consoling - her, at least trying to do so. This place looks wretched and deserted, - worse than when I was last here. They say every one is ruined; I - wonder I am not; but I can write no more, my head and heart are both - aching. You shall hear from me when I reach Castle Desmond," - - "Yours miserably, - - "G. D." - -At the bottom were some words across which a few had been hastily drawn -once or twice. Kate easily perceived they were the commencement of a -sentence, "your readiness to," but some interruption mental or physical -had cut short the fair scribe, and she had changed her intentions. - -To Kate's infinite surprise, for Mrs. O'Toole was in general a -remarkably straightforward person, a second letter reached her by the -midday mail, directed in a blotted irregular hand written apparently -with a wooden skewer. - - "_To Miss Vernon at Mr. Storey's, - Bayswater._ - - "Mee own blessed child," it began, "do'nt let on a word of this to - mortial man; you will be angry with me for decavin me lady, but I - wanted to write unknown'st, and I'm quite and snug for the night - now, so I thought I'd sthrive to pen ye a line without a word to any - one; the morning we left London, Saturday, Miss Lewis hears tell how - me Lord Effingham was coming to take the rooms we wor in next week, - and she ups and tould me lady, and me lady sends for me. 'Nurse,' - says she, lookin like a ghost and her two eyes blazin mad, 'Wor you - aware' says she spakin low, 'that Lord Effingham was commin,' 'To be - sure I was;' says I, 'I heerd it as well as Miss Lewis,' says I, and - then she turned and bit her lips, and looked like tunther, 'I thought - you might have heard it at Hampton Coort,' ses she. 'Divil a haporth - good nor bad I heard tell of him at the Coort,' says I; with that she - gave a sort of a groan, 'Very well,' says she, 'of course, what could - you know about him! What's delayin us,' ses she mighty sharp, 'the - carriage immediately Roberts,' ses she, and there was no mistake she - was in airnest. Now she's been quere since then, mighty fond of me, - an always talkin of you, me darlint, but some how there's no truth in - her eyes, so jist mind how ye write, an sure me eyes an me hands is - tired, an if ye can read it, do'nt be angry if I write too free; sure - I'd brave even the cross word from yourself, if I could do ye good, me - own darlin child, there's not an hour of the day your poor old nurse - does'nt be prayin for you, so God shield ye, and send me the light of - me eyes again safe and sound. - - "Your own loving and respectful nurse, - - "NELLY O'TOOLE." - -Miss Vernon sat for some time lost in perplexed thought, she was truly -glad to get nurse's affectionate letter, yet wished she had not told -her that Lord Effingham was in town. - -"I must not betray nurse, and yet I should very much like to write -openly to Georgy, her suspicions are once more all alive," and the -indignant colour rose to Kate's cheek at the idea of such pertinacious -injustice. "I must write as if regardless of any change in her tone -since we last met, I wish dear nurse had not mentioned Lord Effingham, -I wish I never had heard his name." - -Rousing herself from these fruitless reflections she called Willie, -and knowing of old what potent consolers fresh air and sunshine always -proved, asked Mrs. Storey's leave to take him with her to Kensall-green -Cemetery where her grandfather's remains had been interred. She had not -yet visited his grave, and choose the child's companionship during that -visit of tender duty, as more congenial than any other. Willie, dancing -with joy at the delight in prospect of a walk with Miss Vernon, was -soon equipped, and the two friends started lovingly hand in hand. - -Their way lay through pleasant fields with a pretty back-ground of -wooded country towards Harrow, all glowing in the rich light of an -Autumn sun. Kate was quite inattentive to the pretty talk of her -little squire. She was traversing these fields again with a far -different companion, she was living over again many autumns all -distinctly marked in her faithful memory; it had always been the gayest -time at Dungar, it had been the brightest period of her sojourn at -A----, dear A, which she found usurping the place Dungar had formerly -held in her heart. And last autumn though clouded, was not all gloom; -she had then that beloved grandfather, the nucleus round which, all -her deepest affections, her noblest energies, her most unfaltering -fortitude had ever rallied, rich in their undying truth. She recalled -with the distinctness of unchanging affection, the incidents, trifling -though they were, which marked the last days of his life; the gradual -progress of a dejection she could not cheer; the quiet resignation of -earthly hopes; the silent, the gentleness, the child-like simplicity -of the noble spirit with which she had intimately communed during her -whole life. Oh how vividly it all came back to her; the placid smile -so sad in its sweetness; the thoughtfulness for others so marked in -his last illness; and it was all over; never more on earth should she -behold him. - -Roused at length from her thoughts by the unwonted silence of poor -little Willie who was discouraged by receiving no answer to his many -questions, she pressed the hand she held kindly and asked--"does Willie -know the way to my dear grandfather's grave?" - -"Oh yes" cried the child eagerly, proud to be her guide, "Maria used -often to take us there in the summer evenings, and mama sometimes, we -used to see that the flowers were taken care of, it is such a pleasant -walk." - -"Do you remember grandpapa" oppressed with the silent anguish of her -own heart. - -"I think I do" returned Willie, "He had such beautiful white hair, and -sugar plums always in his pocket." - -Kate smiled, though her tears fell upon the little hand that lay in -hers, as she recognised this picture. - -"Why do you cry, dear Kate?" asked Willie who was a loving creature, -"you are never naughty." - -"I cry," returned Kate, "because I have not that dear grandpapa to walk -with me or to love me any more." The child seemed baffled by misfortune -so far beyond his comprehension, but soon renewed the conversation by -one of those innocent questions of the state of the souls after death, -which children propound almost as soon as they are capable of observing. - -"There it is--there it is"--he at length cried bounding forward to the -head of a grave, separated from the turf around, by a couple of iron -bars supported by small pillars of the same metal; some heartsease and -laurels adorned the little enclosure; and at the head a block of marble -carved to represent a gothic niche, and surmounted by the armorial -bearings of the deceased, bore the following inscription:-- - - SACRED - TO THE MEMORY OF - COLONEL D'ARCY VERNON, - OF DUNGAR, - JUST, GENEROUS, BRAVE, AND TRUE. - THIS STONE IS ERECTED BY A MOURNING RELATIVE, - ONE OF THE MANY WHO OWE HIM AN - UNREQUITABLE DEBT OF GRATITUDE. - -This simple, noble epitaph touched and gratified Miss Vernon's -inmost soul. Simply and fervently she raised her soul to Heaven in -silent prayer; and, at last, soothed and calmed by the just tribute -so gracefully paid to the departed, she called to Willie, who (soon -wearied of her motionless attitude) had wandered away. - -"I can never feel a shadow of anger against Georgy again for anything," -she thought, as her eye took in all the advantages of the well-chosen -site--it was in the highest part of the cemetery; far below, lay the -mighty town, looming indistinct through the cloud and smoke that -shrouded it, like life with its trials, mean and great all hidden, in -their tendencies, by the mist of human vision--while around and beyond -was the clear blue sky, the balmy air, and the song of the birds, like -the region of pure joy, and undimmed faith, to which the wearied spirit -had escaped. - - * * * * * - -"Please 'm, there's a gentleman waiting to see you in the -drawing-room," said the spruce Maria, one evening about a week after, -when Kate and Mrs. Storey returned from a round of visits, into which -the former had been entrapped. - -"Indeed," said Kate, then suddenly recollecting herself, "I dare say it -is Colonel Dashwood." - -"Well, my dear, I will go and take off my bonnet, and, by that time, -you will have finished your secrets." - -"I am sure Colonel Dashwood never had a secret in his life," said Kate, -laughing. - -She ran hastily up stairs, and found, as she had anticipated, that -gallant officer engaged in contemplating sundry long ringletted ladies -in a book of beauty, having reduced the geometrical arrangement of the -round table albums and annuals to great confusion. - -"I was just about to give you up in despair," cried Colonel Dashwood, -advancing to meet her with great cordiality. "Any commands for Dublin? -I start to-morrow." - -"For Dublin!" said Kate. "You astonish me. How--what is it takes you -away so suddenly?" And she looked earnestly at his countenance, which -wore a bright, hopeful expression, far different from the last she had -seen there. - -"Hampton Court has been insupportable since your departure," said the -Colonel, gaily, "so I have got three weeks' leave; and, after some -uncertainty how to dispose of myself, decided on visiting my old haunts -in Ireland." - -"I am sorry you will just miss Georgina," observed Miss Vernon. "She -has either left Dublin for Castle Desmond, or will to-morrow." - -"Indeed," cried Colonel Dashwood, evidently pulled up by this piece of -information. "I was speaking to Effingham, who put me down here, and he -seemed to think she would remain there some short time." - -"It was pure fancy on Lord Effingham's part," returned Kate, "he is -quite ignorant of her movements." - -"So it appears; yet they said at Hampton Court that this sudden move -was merely a preparatory step to changing Lady Desmond into the -Countess of Effingham." - -"How absurd," cried Kate, coloring, "there never was the least -probability of such a _finale_ to their acquaintance." - -"I discovered as much from Effingham's conversation this morning," said -the Colonel, significantly, "though," he added, laughingly, "I confess, -notwithstanding some experience on these points, my observation was -quite at fault as to his object in--but," interrupting himself, "I am -growing terribly indiscreet, Miss Vernon. Effingham was sorry some -engagement, I do not know what, prevented him from calling upon you -to-day--and I strongly advised him to defer that pleasure." - -"I do not wish to see Lord Effingham," said Kate, gravely. - -The Colonel raised his eye-brows, and smiled. - -"Tell me, if I miss Lady Desmond in Dublin, how shall I get on her -track? Is there any shooting or fishing in the neighbourhood--is Castle -Desmond beyond the reach of Bianconi's cars?--for, if I remember -rightly, they are the most extended ramifications of civilisation in -your splendid country." - -The entrance of Mrs. Storey cut short his enquiries. - -"Colonel Dashwood, Mrs. Storey," said Kate, "you remember Colonel -Dashwood perhaps." - -"Oh, quite well," replied Mrs. Storey, with one or two little bobbing -curtseys, as she took the chair handed her by that polite individual. -"I am very sorry Mr. Storey is not at home, and we might, perhaps, -induce the Colonel to stop dinner with us." - -"A thousand thanks, my dear madam; but I must dine with the Guards -to-day, and only ran down here to ask Miss Vernon's commands for -Ireland." - -"Oh, indeed! I did not know you were Irish." - -"Nor am I; but I like good fishing, and plenty of fun, and both are to -be had in Paddy's land." - -"I fear you will not find much of the last now," said Kate. - -"What a pity the Colonel is running away before the 30th," said Mrs. -Storey. "We have a few friends and a little music, and, perhaps, you -would have joined us," continued the hospitable little woman who -thought how much Colonel's Dashwood's fine figure and _air distingué_ -would astonish the Bayswater world. - -"You had better stay," suggested Kate. - -"Ah! unfortunately, it is not in my power." - -"Were you at the Countess of B----'s grand ball on Friday night, -Colonel Dashwood?" asked Mrs. Storey, anxious to get up a little -fashionable talk, and to show her knowledge of the great world. - -"Lady B----, no! did she give a ball? I remember her--she is an awful -old woman. I never go to balls in London--they are such tame correct -things--country quarters spoil one for your regular dazzling scenes." - -Kate could not refrain from a smile at the amazement depicted on Mrs. -Storey's countenance at this sally. - -"Talking of balls," resumed Colonel Dashwood, "reminds me of an -indefatigable dancer, at least, in former years: Fred Egerton; I -had a letter the other day, from him; he does not seem to have got -mine, when he wrote. The mail is extremely irregular, during all this -skirmishing--he appears to be suffering from some neglected wound, -and is fretting at his inactivity--he used to be the easiest going -fellow on earth; but Sir John M---- was telling me the other day, -that they hold him to be one of the smartest officers on our Indian -establishment, at present--he is a capital fellow, at all events. -By-the-bye, he asks where you and the--." Dashwood stopped short; -"I mean my late friend, Colonel Vernon, are which shows he had not -received any letters or papers for an immense time." - -Kate silently reclined her head, and after exchanging a few more -remarks with Mrs. Storey, Colonel Dashwood took his leave, promising, -with great earnestness, that should anything occur to delay his -departure, he would, without fail, make his appearance among the -"expected few friends," on the 30th. - -"Good-bye, Miss Vernon," said he, pressing her hand kindly; "thanks -for your _carte du pays_; take care of yourself, for I cannot give a -very flourishing account of you to Lady Desmond; there is more of the -_beauté fragile_ in your appearance, than I like to see. When do you -join your cousin?" - -"Oh do not talk of that, Colonel Dashwood," interrupted Mrs. Storey. -"We cannot part with Miss Vernon for a long time to come." - -Kate only smiled. - -"I wish you all success in your fishing; only remember the grand -characteristic of your craft is patience." - -The Colonel bowed, and was gone. - -"What a nice man he is to be sure," cried Mrs. Storey, as soon as -they were _tête-à-tête_, "so full of life, but quite different from -Lord Effingham. Those gentleman in the army have such a gay, off-hand -manner." - -"Yes, Colonel Dashwood is very much to be liked--I am very fond of him." - -"Lord, my dear, that is a confession." - -"Is it," said Kate, laughing. - -"What would my lord say to that?" asked Mrs. Storey. - -"Nothing, I should think." - -"Two strings to one's bow, are sometimes as bad as none," remarked Mrs. -Storey, oracularly. - -"Between two stools, etc., is that your meaning?" asked Kate, -carelessly. "I must take off my bonnet and shawl and finish the -discussion at tea." - -Miss Vernon was glad to have seen Colonel Dashwood, and heard from -him, of Lord Effingham's presence in London; she could now, if -necessary, mention it to Lady Desmond, without betraying nurse--but she -trusted it would not be necessary, for his disinclination to accompany -Colonel Dashwood in his visit, had led her to hope he had accepted -her dismissal as final, and already begun to forget his _engouement_. -She was glad too, that Colonel Dashwood was about to follow her -cousin--such a mark of decided preference from a man, so deservedly -esteemed as the Colonel, might, she thought, soothe her cousin's -mortified spirit; and, perhaps, supply her with a real and substantial -object of affection, as she woke from the vain dream, that had proved -so bitterly deceitful. "I have heard dear grandpapa say, hearts were -sometimes caught in the rebound." - -And Fred Egerton--she had of late thought it strange that he had taken -no notice whatever of her sad bereavement--she thought he would have -written, at least, to Winter, for some particulars of the event; but, -resolutely turning from these thoughts, she fixed her mind on the -probable reasons, why she had not received a second letter from Lady -Desmond; and finding her imagination less inclined to traverse the -narrow breadth of the Irish channel, than to devour the wide space of -the Overland route to India--she quitted the "phantom-peopled" solitude -of her chamber, and joined the children in a game of "blind-man's -buff." Mrs. Storey was grievously disappointed when, day after day -rolled by, and Miss Vernon, not only never poured any tender revelation -into her sympathising bosom, but never hinted that there was one -to make. Mrs. Storey was accustomed to give advice in a number of -difficult engagements, and a young lady, who was not provided with a -lover, or on the look out for one, was a phenomenon uninteresting to -her. Kate was so unmistakeably true, that she could not accuse her of -the "depth," to which discreet, and sympathising matrons peculiarly -object--so she had nothing for it, but to conclude Miss Vernon was too -Blue to fall in love. This compulsory forbearance was, however, amply -rewarded. - -The day but one after Colonel Dashwood's visit, Kate received a letter -from Lady Desmond--she wrote in rather better spirits, still dated from -Dublin--she said she had postponed her departure another week, and that -she feared very much the state of things about the Castle, was very -deplorable, as the famine was most severe in that part of the world. -The tone of the letter was more affectionate, yet there was something -of constraint in it, that jarred upon Kate's feelings painfully; "But," -she thought, "I will be patient--poor Georgy! she has suffered so much." - -After their early dinner, Miss Vernon sat down to reply to her -cousin's letter, and tell her of Colonel Dashwood's visit, intending -to mention that Lord Effingham was in town Mrs. Storey was busy -over a large work-basket filled with small garments, of various -sizes; and both the children, Charlotte, and William, were playing -about the room, often interrupting the progress of Kate's pen, while -occasional communications from the scene of action up stairs, where -the drawing-room was undergoing its weekly purification, disturbed the -labours of Mrs. Storey's needle. They were all assembled in a small, -plainly furnished parlour, used as a common sitting-room. - -"Go and look out of the window, like good children, and let Miss Vernon -write in peace," said mama, at last, and Kate continued to write for -some moments uninterrupted. - -"What a beautiful horse," cried Willie, after looking over the blinds -for a while in silence. - -"How he holds up his head," said his sister; "and the boy in the pretty -little boots is look-at all the houses." - -"They are coming here," shouted Willie, clapping his hands. - -Mrs. Storey rose to look, and reached the window, just as the -diminutive tiger knocked at the door. - -"Law, my dear Miss Vernon, this is some friend of yours; what a -stylish cab," exclaimed Mrs. Storey, now quite as much absorbed in -contemplating the new arrival, as her children. "The boy has taken the -reins, and--my gracious, if it is'nt Lord Effingham himself, and all -the furniture out of the drawing-room; and my work basket! was there -ever anything half so unlucky," and she rushed in helpless perplexity -to hide, at least, the unsightly work-basket from view, when the door -was thrown open, and the spruce maid, looking unusually dusty, hastily -announced-- - -"A gentleman for Miss Vernon." - -Kate, whose sense of the ridiculous, was too genuine to be -extinguished, even by sincere vexation at so unwelcome a visit, rose to -receive him with an irrepressible smile, at the contrast between Mrs. -Storey's despairing fuss, and his calm, unconscious, high-bred _entré_. - -Lord Effingham evidently mistook the source of that smile, for he -responded to it with a sudden clearing of his clouded brow, and -brightening of the eye. - -"I began to fear I should never see you again, Miss Vernon," was his -opening address. "I drove Dashwood down here a couple of days ago; but, -in compassion to his evident wish to get rid of me, with praiseworthy -self-denial, I left him to his own devices; and to-day I find he went -to the wrong house; and I have been some time looking for the right -one--all's well that end's well, however;" and he bowed, a bow of -recognition to Mrs. Storey. - -Kate felt singularly puzzled how to treat him; it was impossible not -to accept his easy polished manner, and matter-of-course address, in -the same unembarrassed style; yet it provoked her to find him thus -establishing himself on precisely his former footing, while she felt -herself powerless to prevent it. She strove by monosyllabic answers, -and the utmost coldness, to convey her distaste for his visits; but -if repulsed by Miss Vernon, he was eminently successful in charming -her hostess. He alluded once or twice to their pictorial expedition -at Hampton Court, and asked if the famous painter, Langley, was not -a relative of hers. Mrs. Storey eagerly explained the degree of -consanguinity; and Kate heard, with no small astonishment, a visit to -his studio, speedily arranged. - -"What an amount of annoyance Lord Effingham must be enduring," she -thought; for poor Mrs. Storey exactly represented a class of persons, -held in devout horror by the fastidious Earl; it only required a few -caresses to the children to complete Miss Vernon's amazement; but he -did not get quite so far. - -"You have not told me anything of Lady Desmond," said Lord Effingham, -turning to her with consummate assurance. "She is in Dublin, is she -not?" - -Kate bowed. - -"And Miss Vernon had a letter from her to-day," added Mrs. Storey, -rather scandalised by Kate's coldness. "I believe she is quite well." - -"So nurse says," replied Miss Vernon. - -"That is one of the most remarkable women I have ever met," observed -Lord Effingham, in precisely the same tone of dignified approbation he -would have used towards a crowned head. - -Mrs. Storey laughed, and said, "she was quite a character." - -The conversation lagged after this; and the impatient Earl began -to weary of the unwonted exercise of so much self-control; he was, -however, determined to make Miss Vernon speak. - -"You cannot imagine my astonishment, on my return from Cowes, to find -you had flown," he said; "Lady Desmond's movements are as sudden and as -well masked as Napoleon's." - -"It can hardly be called a masked movement, considering it had been -discussed a fortnight before _en cour pleniere_," returned Miss Vernon; -"some intelligence, unexpectedly, received, induced my cousin to make -the journey more suddenly than she had anticipated." - -"I expected as much," said Lord Effingham, with quiet significance, -the insolence of which, perceptible to her only, called the indignant -blood into Kate's cheek. "But," he continued, looking steadily at her, -"some fairy, or angel whispered to me that you would not accompany her, -although I am not in the habit of receiving angelic communications." - -"There are two descriptions of angels," said Kate, simply. - -The remark was irresistible; but it was hardly uttered before she -regretted it; for Lord Effingham smiled, gaily, as if gratified that -she had deigned to retort. He was now satisfied he had accomplished -as much as one visit would permit, and rising to depart, thanked Mrs. -Storey for her permission to accompany them to Langley's studio, and -made his adieux with the same ease that marked his _entré_. - -"Well, my dear," cried Mrs. Storey, triumphantly, "you will believe me -again! I think there is no mistake about that. And how you could treat -such an elegant man with the greatest coldness, I cannot understand. -Had you any quarrel with him? for you were friendly enough at Hampton -Court." - -"I have no quarrel with Lord Effingham, Mrs. Storey," replied Kate, -gravely; "but I dislike him extremely; and I must ask you, as a favour, -that you will not encourage him to come here. It is very natural that -you should think well of him. I know him better." - -"Law! my dear girl," said Mrs. Storey, eagerly. "Don't be foolish! -Earls are not to be found on every bush. And what is it to you if he -has been a little wild; young men will be young men; and when he is -married, he will turn over a new leaf. See, how independent and grand -you would be as Countess of Effingham, going down to dinner before Lady -Desmond herself." - -"I know, my dear Mrs. Storey, how well-meant is your advice; and, -believe me, I am grateful for the interest you take in my prospects; -but do not refuse my request; help me to avoid Lord Effingham." - -"But what shall we do about to-morrow?" said poor Mrs. Storey, -ruefully. She could not relinquish an Earl without a pang. - -"I am sure Mr. Langley will raise some obstacle. At all events, I will -remain in my own room, and you can act as his _cicerone_. If this -continues," added Kate, resolutely, "I will leave London. Indeed, I -have wished to speak to you on this subject before." - -"I am sure I shall never forgive Lord Effingham if he frightens -you away, my dear," said Mrs. Storey, kindly; and then added, -reflectively--"goodness me! how strange high-life is!" - -This visit of Lord Effingham's was a great shock to Kate; how was -she to clear herself in Lady Desmond's eyes from the suspicion that -she had consented so readily to remain in London in order to see her -accepted lover more frequently. Yes! the only remedy was to mature her -crude plans for endeavouring to obtain employment of some kind out of -London--to dependance she would never return. - -Kate's anticipations as to Langley's raising obstacles to that visit -proved correct; he made his appearance, according to his usual custom, -at tea time. - -"Lord Effingham was here this morning, William--he is very anxious to -see your studio; and I promised to take him with me to-morrow." - -"He does me infinite honour," said Langley. "But it happens I am going -to Windsor to-morrow, and cannot leave my studio unlocked even to -gratify his lordship." - -Kate thought he said this with unusual acerbity. - -"Well, that _is_ unfortunate," cried Mrs. Storey. - -"What a _grandee_ you are growing all at once, Charlotte," said her -husband, facetiously; "patronising Earls and Colonels--they will want -you at Almacks next. Talking of finery," continued Mr. Storey, "I was -introduced to Tom Jorrocks' wife to-day, and promised you would call -upon her--they are in town, for a few weeks, at ----; here's his card, -Cambridge Terrace." - -And Mr. and Mrs. Storey immediately plunged into the history of Tom -Jorrocks and his wife, and of how rich his mother was, and what a large -fortune he was making, &c., &c. While Langley and Kate conversed -quietly apart. - -"Is Lord Effingham a great lover of painting?" - -"I believe so; he certainly understands it." - -"It is curious enough; I was walking this evening with Gailliard, (who, -by the way, was making many enquiries for you,) when Lord Effingham -drove past us in Regent Street. Gailliard seems to have known a good -deal of him abroad; he gave a curious character of him." Langley -thought for some moments, and then resumed--"You remember Gailliard?" - -"Oh, quite well--I should like to see him again." - -"He has just returned from France, with a perfect budget of anecdotes, -touching the late Revolution; he is a strange fellow," concluded -Langley, musingly. - -"I always wonder that M. Gailliard is not a man of greater eminence -than he is." - -"Yes--he has all the ingredients to be a great writer, a good artist, a -leading character, and yet he seems to have missed everything." - -"Perhaps," said Kate, smiling, "he requires the predominance of some -one of these qualities to decide his character, as the slightly -superior strength of the right hand prevents the awkwardness of not -knowing which to use." - -"Very likely. Do you know, Miss Vernon, you think a good deal for a -young lady!" - -"I cannot accept so insulting a compliment," said Kate, laughing; and -rising, at Mrs. Storey's request, she went to the piano. "I want your -opinion of this air--it came back to me in a dream some nights ago. A -poor silly boy at Dungar used to sing it so sweetly, and I have never -heard it since. I rather think it is a very old air that escaped Moore -and Sir John Stevenson--the Irish words I never knew; but these I found -among poor Mr. Gilpin's papers--they seem to have been written not -long before his sister's death." - -And, after a few arpeggio chords, she sung as follows:-- - - "Look afar thro' the gloom, weary heart, - To yon dim and faint revealing, - The glim'ring ray - Of distant day - O'er life's troubled ocean stealing. - - It comes with endless joy, sad heart, - A glorious sunburst beaming, - With peace and love - From heaven above, - O'er sin and sorrow streaming. - - Soon the dark waters past, sad heart, - Thou'lt rest in thy spirit home, - Where we part no more - From those gone before - Across life's billowy foam. - - There no falsehood shall oppress thee, - Nor sorrow's dark'ning gloom, - For free is the soul - That has reached its goal, - In the world beyond the tomb." - -"Well, Miss Vernon," remarked Mr. Storey, "that's quite too melancholy -a song for me--the dismals never suit my book." - -"My dear! it is beautiful, and made me cry, I could not help it!" -exclaimed his wife. - -"You say the words are original," observed Langley. - -"Yes, I am almost sure they were written by Mr. Gilpin's sister, who -died of consumption shortly before we went to A----." - -"They suit the air remarkably--the song makes an impression I shall not -easily forget nor your singing of it," added Langley, more to himself -than to Kate. - -"Now, Miss Vernon, may I ask for that march we liked so much, -yesterday?" said Mrs. Storey, and soon afterwards they separated for -the night. - -The next morning was most perseveringly wet, and both Mrs. Storey -and Kate agreed that the most determined picture-maniac would hardly -venture out in such weather. - -"But you will see, he will come for all that," concluded Mrs. Storey. - -"Then _you_ must receive him," said Kate, "I will not appear." - -"Gracious goodness," cried her hostess. "What shall I say about you?" - -"Do not trouble yourself to think--send for me, and the message I shall -return will relieve you of all responsibility." - -"But if he insists on seeing you?" - -"He dare not!" said Kate, with a sudden lighting of the eye, and proud -drawing up of the head that seemed to her good easy friend like the -revelation of some unknown world. "Well my dear, whatever you like," -she said, meekly. - -Mrs. Storey's conjectures proved true, for, notwithstanding the -weather, Lord Effingham arrived punctually at the time specified. - -Kate felt her heart beat a little nervously, as she watched him walking -across the garden, from the window of the nursery where she had -ensconced herself. - -In due course of time, Mrs. Storey's message reached her. - -"Please'm, my missis says, would you be so good as to step down." - -"My compliments, I am particularly engaged," said Miss Vernon, quietly. - -And soon after, she heard the hall door open and shut, and the sound of -retreating wheels informed her the enemy was in retreat. She found Mrs. -Storey looking rather crest-fallen. - -"Well, my dear, he is gone--in a very bad humour, I can tell you--he -came in so politely, and asked if we still intended to go. So I told -him about my brother being from home, he did not seem to mind it much; -but said he hoped another time we should be more successful; then he -asked for you, and if you were at home, so I sent for you, and I assure -my dear, I was beginning to feel quite nervous, for though he smiled -and talked, he was looking very black, as if he was vexed at not seeing -you. When Maria brought back your message, he turned and looked out of -the window for a minute, then he said, with a very different kind of -smile from what I saw before--'I should be sorry to interfere with Miss -Vernon's particular engagements, and as I am very likely interrupting -your avocations, I shall bid you good morning.' I told him I had -nothing in the world to do at that hour of the day--but he did not seem -to hear me speak, and with a sort of proud bow, he walked off; and, my -dear girl, I am sure you have mortally offended him; but, for all that, -I think he might have listened when I spoke to him." - -"Yes," said Kate, "he was very rude, and we must both be out if he -comes again, though I do hope and believe that was a mere threat." - -All remembrance of his Lordship's impertinence was quickly obliterated -from Mrs. Storey's mind, by the rapidly increasing toils of preparation -for "the thirtieth;" it was to be a quiet musical party--in -consideration of Miss Vernon's mourning--but very _recherché_. Mrs. -Storey determined the supper should be what her husband termed a "chief -endeavour," the facetious translation of "_chef d'oeuvre_." - -Kate waited till that all-absorbing event was over, and Mrs. Storey's -attention free, before she took her into her confidence, as regarded -her future plans. She was now most anxious to do so. Employment, either -as a resident governess, or a companion, was absolutely necessary. She -could not remain much longer with Mrs. Storey, and to accept money or -protection from Lady Desmond, while her suspicions remained as keenly -alive as they then were, was impossible. Her cousin's letters, though -expressing a formal wish that she was happy and comfortable, had not, -as yet, hinted at the future. And, however firmly Kate might trust to -the mercy and guidance of an over-ruling Providence, the uncertainty -of her prospects kept her in cruel suspense. If she could but only -hear from Winter, and learn where to direct to him, all would be -well. Then she would turn to Winter's last letter, and dwell upon the -reality of its tone; for, strange though it be, there is something so -unerring in the instinct of truth, that mere written expressions, in -all the barrenness of ink and paper, convey the real, or the unreal -unmistakeably. Kate was always comforted by the perusal of the good -little artist's characteristic epistles; they placed him before her, in -all the uncompromising sincerity she had tried, and never found wanting. - -The day but one after her party, Mrs. Storey disappointed Kate's -intention of asking for a quiet confidential walk after dinner, by -desiring the parlour maid at breakfast, to-- - -"Tell cook to have dinner at one precisely, I must go into town on -particular business to-day." - -Kate declined her invitation to accompany her, observing-- - -"I want a long talk with you, dear Mrs. Storey, the first time you are -at leisure." - -She received a ready assent to her proposition, from her curious -hostess, who anticipated a clearing up of all the mysteries connected -with Lord Effingham. - -Kate had not long enjoyed the unwonted stillness of the house, after -Mrs. Storey had departed for town, and the children for their afternoon -walk, when her attention was aroused by the sound of voices in the -hall, and the next moment Lord Effingham walked into the room. Miss -Vernon started, and with difficulty suppressed the exclamation of -surprise which sprang to her lips. She rose from her seat, and stood -silent, while her unwelcome visitor, advancing towards her, said, with -the species of enforced quiet, which always indicated that emotion of -some kind was struggling in his breast-- - -"I do not apologise for this intrusion, Miss Vernon, for you will, I -know, forgive it, when I tell you how unconquerable is my desire to -speak with you, alone. I have watched your amiable and intelligent -hostess set out for town, and so made sure of some uninterrupted -conversation--you must not refuse to hear me." - -"No, Lord Effingham," said Miss Vernon, recovering her self-possession, -"I, too, am almost glad, since you will not accept the tacit expression -of my wishes, to have a decisive interview, we cannot continue on our -present footing." - -"The extraordinary fact of your being domesticated with such people," -exclaimed Lord Effingham, abruptly, "is sufficiently eloquent of the -terms on which you and your cousin parted--and I must know something -more decisive from your own lips, before I resign all hopes of you. -Speak! Have you and your cousin separated in consequence of her insane -pride--her absurd fancy about myself?" - -"If I could convey the least idea to your mind," answered Kate, holding -down her indignation, in order to speak with greater force, "of the -repugnance with which I shrink from such expressions, you would not, -I am sure, offend me by repeating them, Good Heavens," she continued, -"what effect can you imagine must be produced upon one woman by such -bold, such dishonorable assertions of another." - -"Dishonorable!" cried the Earl, his sallow cheek flushing for an -instant. "You use strong terms, Miss Vernon." - -"Not more strong than just," returned Kate. "I call it dishonorable, -if, rightly or not, you conceive you have won a place in a woman's -heart, to glance at the secret, even to your most intimate associate, -much more to make it the subject of scornful remark to that woman's--" - -She stopped, fearful of betraying herself or her cousin. Lord Effingham -supplied the word-- - -"Rival you would have said, and you are right. I can well imagine the -scorn, the bitterness with which she reproached you for all the crimes -of art and dissimulation, of which _you_ are so incapable. I can fancy -the passionate, unappeaseable suspicions which drove you--here," he -added, after a moment's pause to glance, with unutterable contempt, -round the homely room in which they sat. - -Kate felt that she quailed before the true picture he had sketched. - -"Your eyes are less faithful to your cousin's cause than your -lips--_they_ admit much," continued Lord Effingham. - -"Then what I look I will speak," returned Kate, with sudden boldness. -"Georgina, if she does care for you, is not a woman to give away her -heart unasked. I have known and loved her all my life--that she is -not indifferent to you, is, in my eyes, incontrovertible proof that -you endeavoured to win her affections. It is no disgrace to a woman," -continued Kate, with encreasing boldness, "to give the heart that seems -so ardently sought. No; the truer the purer--the nobler it is--the -more incapable it is of conceiving the gratuitous treason that betrays -it. I do not see why I should attempt to conceal the fact that I fear -my cousin once loved you--with you rests the reproach; but do you -suppose that I am so unreal as to trust you--to believe that a passing -admiration could so change your spirit, as to teach it sympathy with -mine? that your treachery to one woman would be a guarantee of good -faith to another? No, my Lord! I am made of different stuff. Do not, -for a moment, imagine it is in your power to cause disunion between -two such tried friends as my cousin and myself--we know each other's -truth--we know it is worth too much to be lightly cast aside." - -She paused; and Lord Effingham, whose varied colour had settled into -deadly paleness, rose, and paced the room in silence, before replying-- - -"You are a stern judge, Miss Vernon," he said, at length, in the deep -tone of concentrated anger. "I little thought the indulgence of a -harmless whim would have been so severely visited upon me. Listen, -fair and rigid exposer of my follies," he continued, sneeringly. "The -secret of your just severity may be summed up thus--you do not love -me; therefore, the conduct you so eloquently denounce, is unextenuated -by the softening consideration that it was you--your own irresistible -attractions--that made me a traitor. Your indifference, perhaps your -pre-occupation, lends a magnifying power to your moral sense, and I -am condemned; where--circumstances slightly changed--I might have been -cherished. Enough; I am satisfied there is no chance of my winning your -affections. I will not, therefore, degrade myself or weary you with -vain efforts." He stopped opposite to her, silently for a minute, his -arms folded, his eyes fixed on her face. "I wish to God I had known you -long ago, Kate--that I had met you first. How is it, that with rank, -and riches, and power here--" and he touched his forehead, "all rare -gifts--I have so often missed the road to happiness." - -Kate, moved by the tone of despondency with which this was asked, -replied hesitatingly-- - -"Perhaps--because you never knew where to look for it." - -"And will you not direct me?" said the Earl, with intense earnestness. - -Kate shook her head in silent refusal. - -He gazed at her still for an instant, and then, taking her hand, said-- - -"In all probability, we shall never meet again. You have acted in -accordance with your character--I, with mine." - -And, turning away, he left the house. - -Kate remained lost in thought without moving from the position in -which she had heard Lord Effingham's parting words; she could hardly -believe that he was really gone--that he would return no more; but -stranger still, was the impression of regret and compassion he had -left upon her mind. Surely there were the scattered elements of much -good in his character. What was it that had so fatally disunited them? -The repellent power of selfishness. He had, as he said, goodly gifts, -rank, and riches, and intellectual power; but the heart, wherein is -the balance which harmonises the whole, was corrupt and false; but her -sensation was that of relief. One difficulty was removed; her cousin -could not long remain in ignorance of his final rejection--nay, in -justice to herself, she determined to mention having seen the Earl for -the last time. - -"My way is becoming clear," was the most distinct idea, as she -endeavoured to refix her thoughts upon her book. It was in vain she -read and re-read each page, the words might be traced by the eye; but -the mind was far too full to admit the sense; and in the struggle -between reverie and attention, Mrs. Storey returned. - -"I am sure I have a thousand apologies to make, my dear, leaving you -all the afternoon by yourself." - -"Indeed, Mrs. Storey, you need not apologise; besides I have not been -alone. Lord Effingham has been here." - -"Oh, indeed," cried Mrs. Storey, eagerly. - -"Yes; and I do not think we shall be troubled with him any more." - -"Well, my dear, you know best; but--" and Mrs. Storey shook her head. - -In truth, the kind-hearted little woman was much attached to Kate, -especially since she had been domesticated with her. She would gladly -have witnessed her "_entrée_" at court in the character of the Countess -of Effingham, and still more gladly shone in the reflected lustre of -so brilliant a friend; but if Miss Vernon did not like him it was very -unfortunate. - -The next morning brought Kate a letter from Lady Desmond, and another -from nurse. The former, after commenting on Colonel Dashwood's sudden -appearance in Dublin, and expressing, more constrainedly and coldly -than usual, her hopes that Kate was happy, &c., &c., went on to say, -"I am annoyed by a strange whim of nurse's; she will no doubt tell you -all about it; she is determined on leaving me 'to see her people;' and -as the only solution for such an amount of family affection, I must -conclude that she is unhappy or uncomfortable in my establishment--I -wish she would condescend to mention in what particular; but this is -too candid a line of conduct for persons of her class." Kate felt -deeply the acerbity with which her cousin wrote, and turned anxiously -to nurse's letter for an explanation of the affair. - -"My own blessed darlin'," it began, "I've a power to tell you; but, -first of all, avourneen, there's yer letter that warmed yer own ould -nurse's heart--my hearty thanks for it, jewil. You see, there's three -weeks of the four I promised to stay with my lady gone, and I'm -wearyin' to see my sisther's daughter and her childre that's doin' well -in Killeesh; and an unfortunate vagabone of a boy, my cousin, they tell -me is gone to the bad--so I'm sure, Miss Kate, jewil, ye'll give me -lave to step over, and if I get a thrifle of work, sure I'll be better -plaised nor to be here doin' nothin', but in everybody's way, an' my -lady different to what she used to be--not but that she's good; but, -asthore, I don't know how she and you parted, an' I never feel asy like -with her, so just tell me you'll let me off stoppin' here any longer." - -Kate hardly felt surprise at this intelligence. She had instinctively -expected that nurse would not remain long with Lady Desmond; yet -this was an increase of anxiety. "I trust she will not give away all -her money," thought Kate, as she sat down to reply to Lady Desmond's -letter. She expressed her regret at nurse's determination, urging, -however, in extenuation, that her desire to revisit the scenes of her -youth, and the few relations she had left, was natural and pardonable. -After touching on all the points in her cousin's letter, she found -herself concluding her own before she had courage to mention Lord -Effingham's name; she therefore added a short postscript--"I have seen -Lord Effingham for the last time." She next wrote her assent to nurse's -project, recommending her, however, merely to go on furlough, and not -to break altogether with Lady Desmond. These letters despatched, she -joined her hostess. - -"You remember, I told you yesterday, I wanted a good long talk with -you, Mrs. Storey." - -"Yes, dear, and here I am ready for it." - -"You are very kind to me, Mrs. Storey." - -"La, my love, it's a pleasure to me." - -"You know I am very poor," said Kate, not exactly sure how to get into -her subject. "I told you at Hampton Court that terrible lawsuit was not -concluded, and now it seems it has died a natural death; so I must try -and do something for myself." - -A thundering knock here startled and interrupted her. - -"Goodness, gracious me," cried Mrs. Storey, "who can that be? A very -smart brougham, my dear, and--let me see--yes--no--it _is_ young Mrs. -Tom Jorrocks. Well, she is very agreeable, but I wish she had not -interrupted us. Delighted to see you, Mrs. Jorrocks--this is so kind -and friendly," &c., &c. - -By Mrs. Tom Jorrocks greetings were exchanged, and much was said of -the delightful evening she had passed at Raby Villa, of Miss Vernon's -charming music, and the beauty of the children; then the excitement -of town was discussed, and young Mrs. Tom Jorrocks admitted that, -notwithstanding its pleasures, she should be glad to be once more -quietly settled at Leeds. "And besides all my own engagements," she -continued, "I am busily employed looking out for a young lady to be a -sort of companion to my mother-in-law, who is growing rather blind. -She wants some one who will be a cheerful associate, and read aloud -nicely, and be like a daughter to her; she lives with her daughter, -Mrs. Wilson, but _she_ is so much engaged with her house and servants -and sons, Mrs. Jorrocks is often lonely." - -"I think I know a lady who might suit you," said Kate, suddenly -captivated with the imaginary picture of a gentle, lonely old lady who -wanted a daughter's companionship. - -"Indeed it would be a great comfort if I could acquit myself well in -the search," said young Mrs. Jorrocks, with a laugh. "My mother-in-law -is very wealthy, and would not object to a salary of thirty or forty -pounds; she is rather particular, but very kind." - -"If you will allow me to call upon you to-morrow, I will let you know -more particulars." - -"I cannot tell the obligation you would confer upon me should you -enable me to get rid of the affair. Might I ask you to call upon me -to-morrow at twelve? If not too early, I shall be enchanted to see you." - -"At twelve, then, I will be with you," said Kate, with a smile. - -"And now, Mrs. Storey, I must bid you good morning. My compliments to -Mr. Storey. Good morning Miss Vernon." - -"You were surprised. I dare say, at my sudden interest in Mrs. -Jorrocks' researches," said Kate to Mrs. Storey, when they were once -more alone. - -"Yes--no--that is, do go on and tell me--surely it can't be yourself?" - -"It is indeed for myself I wish to secure the engagement," returned -Miss Vernon. "I must resume the thread of my discourse, which Mrs. -Jorrocks' _entré_ interrupted. I am sure you are too thoroughly -English not to sympathise in my wish to _earn_ a livelihood, be it -ever so humble, rather than live in dependence, even on a generous -and affectionate relative like my cousin; I do not want a large -salary, but a home is indispensable--at least," she added with a sigh, -"a respectable protection--for a _home_ can never be found among -strangers--and this appears to promise fairly enough." - -"Well, my dear, you really take away my breath! I thought you were -never to leave Lady Desmond! She told me so herself. I really think you -are very foolish. Who would be so fit a person for you to be companion -to as your own cousin? What does she think? My goodness! Who would have -thought it!" - -"Lady Desmond will, no doubt, be very averse to my plan, but at present -I see no other open to me. I particularly wish not to join her while -she is in Ireland--elsewhere I may. Indeed, I should at once have -offered myself to Mrs. Jorrocks, but that I thought it right to consult -you first--you might not like me to do so." - -"La, my dear, I only wish you to do what you think will be for the -best; but, dear me, how astonished Mrs. Tom will be, to be sure! I -always told her how fashionable and rich all your friends and relations -were," said Mrs. Storey, in a slightly vexed tone. - -"If it annoys you in the least, pray tell me, and I will not say -anything more about it--I should be grieved to vex you," said Kate, -with so much sweetness of tone and manner, that Mrs. Storey gave her a -hearty kiss, and wished her all success. - -"Indeed, dear, you have the right spirit; and, after all, I dare say -you have your own reasons for leaving Lady Desmond!" - -"She is always kind and good," said Kate. - -Miss Vernon was truly glad to have this explanation so well over; and -though anxious as to her future, most thankful for the opening which so -unexpectedly offered. - -"I can stay there, at all events, till the Winters' return. Oh, when -will they write!" - - * * * * * - -The next morning, she started early on her visit to Mrs. Tom Jorrocks, -and pondered, as she went, on the difference of her feelings now from -those with which she used to seek employment; formerly, she was full of -anxious, palpitating hope and fear. Hoping to have good news wherewith -to return to grandpapa and nurse--fearing that she might not succeed; -but both sensations invigorated and spurred her on. Now it was for -herself alone, she was interested; and she walked calmly, undisturbed -by either hope or fear; she was almost surprised at the fearless, -careless indifference with which she viewed the future. - -"Can it be that I am so much alone! Oh, if I could but live with nurse! -I wonder will Mr. Winter renew his proposal to take her as housekeeper -when he returns." - -These thoughts brought her to Mrs. Jorrocks's door. She was most -cordially received. The bride was alone; and the first surprise and -exclamations over, matters were speedily arranged. - -"I am really ashamed to offer you what my mother-in-law has limited me -to," said young Mrs. Jorrocks, with some embarrassment. - -"You need not mind that," returned Kate; "I want more a--" she could -not desecrate the word "home," and substituted, "a respectable -residence." - -"Well then, I consider you engaged; and I am sure I shall win golden -opinions for sending down such a companion as yourself," returned Mrs. -Tom, who had become marvellously familiar and agreeable. - -"I had nearly forgotten to ask you where Mrs. Jorrocks lives--a very -necessary question." - -"Oh, at Carrington--her son-in-law, Mr. Wilson, is a cotton broker -there." - -"Carrington," repeated Kate, colouring with surprise and emotion. - -"Not a very nice place, I grant," said the bride. "But the Wilsons live -in the New Park, quite away from the town. Have you ever been there?" - -"Yes, once. We used to live at A----, which is only an hour's drive -from Carrington." - -"I know; we went over there to look at the Cathedral, when I was at -Carrington. Then, Miss Vernon, you will be ready to go down next week? -My mother-in-law is very anxious for some one who will read to her." - -"Yes," said Kate, confused by the flood of memories which welled up -from the depths of her heart, at the sound of these familiar names. - -"Old Mrs. Jorrocks will write and say what day she expects you. I am -sure, I am delighted to have concluded this business so satisfactorily." - -"Then I will wish you good morning." - -"Good morning, Miss Vernon, good morning!" - - * * * * * - -"Dear Mrs. Storey! it is all settled!" cried Kate, on finding that lady -alone. "I am going to Carrington--where--where--" - -A burst of irrepressible tears choked her voice. - -"My dear girl! don't now--there's a love! here, smell to the salts," -exclaimed Mrs. Storey, in great perplexity; she did not understand the -grateful sympathy of silence on such occasions. - -"I was so happy there--so unutterably light-hearted! the world was all -joy to me--existence in itself a blessing! And to go back there now, -when some strange spell seems to have doomed me to utter loneliness! -Grandpapa gone, nurse gone, Georgy, Mr. Winter, his kind wife, all I -was ever linked with in happy days, far away." - -"My love, don't go there; stay a bit longer with us; you know, if the -house was only a little larger, I would not let you go away for ever so -long; but--" - -"Dear friend," said Kate, recovering herself--"I was surprised into -this outburst--do not mind it--I am quite resolved to go to Mrs. -Jorrocks. Nay, when I have conquered my foolish weakness, I shall be -pleased to be near my old haunts. I will go to my room and think--I am -always better when I think by myself." - -"Very well, dear, whatever you like." - -Long and earnestly did Kate think, and her thoughts were prayers. -She looked steadily at the past; and, from its trials and blessings, -gathered strength for the future. - -And fancy, which is ever so strangely at variance with the exterior -atmosphere of prosperity or depression, held up a bright picture of -Egerton, standing between her and all future loneliness, of his manly -tenderness, and simple truth, till she almost fancied she heard his -well known voice speaking to her, those lovely words of Longfellow's-- - - "Oh, let thy weary heart rest upon mine, - And it shall faint no more, nor thirst, nor hunger, - But be satisfied and filled with my affection," - -"I am wrong, I am too bold, to let such thoughts glance across my mind. -I will not let them come again, how weak, how vain they are! but I can -never think of dear grandpapa, without seeing Colonel Egerton, as it -were, beside him, they are so closely linked in my heart." - -And with sudden decision she rose, bathed her eyes, and joined Mrs. -Storey on a journey to Bond Street. - -As young Mrs. Jorrocks had prophesied, Kate received a speedy summons -from _La Belle Mère_. The letter was written in much the same style -of caligraphy, in which a small "dress-maker" notes down her little -account; the orthography was tolerably correct; but the composition was -rather confused. - -"Poor thing," said Miss Vernon, mentally; "she is probably too blind to -write with ease--perhaps her maid acted as amanuensis. I hope she is a -loveable person. What wonderful changes I have seen;" and turning to -her desk, she wrote to Mrs. Jorrocks, promising to be with her on the -specified Thursday. - -"Dear nurse used to say Thursday was a lucky day," she said, as she -closed the letter. After some consideration, she determined on -informing nurse and her cousin that she was tired of London, and going -to stay with some acquaintances she had made through Mrs. Storey. -"There can be no use in unnecessarily fretting them," she thought. "I -am determined not to go to Georgy till I can trace a very different -tone in her letters; she cannot help her suspicions, I believe; but I -need not make her more unhappy than she is. How I wish I could see some -newspaper announcement of Lord Effingham's departure for the continent!" - -But her wish was in vain, Lord Effingham continued to revolve between -London and Cowes; and Lady Desmond's reply was strangely commingled -with petulance and affection. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -CARRINGTON. - - -It was a cold, gloomy, blustering evening, in the beginning of -September, when the increase of houses, and appearance of hissing and -tranquil engines along the line of rail-road, announced to Kate that -she was approaching the termination of her journey; she wondered she -did not feel more of that sinking of heart, and thrilling of nerves, -with which she used to regard any important crisis or event. She felt -so terribly depressed, that anything like the hope, implied by fear or -anxiety, was quite out of the question; yet there occasionally glanced -across her mind the thought, "have I not come to the worst; perhaps the -next change may be for the better." - -"Half-past six--nearly an hour behind time," said a fat, rosy old -gentleman, who sat opposite to Miss Vernon, "and another quarter -of an hour will be lost taking the tickets--very bad, very bad," -and he looked at Kate for sympathy; but to her it was a matter of -indifference: the train was rather too fast for her wishes. - -"They will be fancying all sorts of accidents and concussions at -home," resumed the old gentleman, with a smile of such security in the -affection and sympathy to which he was hastening, that the tears sprang -to Kate's eyes, even while she smiled upon him, and said-- - -"Then I do wish they would go faster--suspense is such a terrible -thing." - -The old gentleman seemed struck by the sudden warmth evinced by his -hitherto taciturn companion. - -"I suppose you have friends to meet you?" he said; "but if I can be of -any use in getting your luggage, &c., I shall be very happy." - -"I suppose they will send some one to meet me," said Kate, carelessly; -"but," she added, a doubt on the point glancing across her mind for the -first time, "if not, I will gladly avail myself of your kind offer." - -"What part of the town, may I ask, are you going to?" - -"Carleton Terrace, New Park." - -"Oh, indeed. I live near that myself." - -A little more desultory talk brought them to the platform; and stepping -from the carriage, Miss Vernon looked round in hopes of discovering the -promised person to meet her; but none appeared; therefore, accepting -the old gentleman's proffered aid, she proceeded to disentangle her -luggage from the miscellaneous and momentarily encreasing pile, which -the porters were pitching, with their usual dexterity and disregard of -consequences, out of the van. - -Kate had but few packages; some undefined feeling had induced her to -leave much of her belongings under Mrs. Storey's care--she could not -bear to think of Carrington as anything but a temporary abode. - -"Another small black box--the same name--Miss Vernon," she said to -the porter who was collecting her luggage; her words attracted the -notice of an awkward boy of about fifteen, who had been examining -the second-class passengers, as if in search of some one; he was -heavy-looking, without being large, his movements slow and uncouth, and -his face of a leaden bilious complexion, wore an expression of stupid -surprise. - -"Are you Miss Vernon?" he asked, in an abrupt, harsh voice, which was -at its harshest epoch. - -"Yes," said Kate, looking at him doubtfully, uncertain what rank in -society to assign him; his face would not have been misplaced under a -basket of oranges, nor his clothes on the heir apparent of an earldom. - -"All right," said the interesting youth. "gran'ma sent me to meet you. -I'm Pembridge Wilson; shall I call a cab? Busses don't go near the -Park." - -"If you please, a cab," said Kate; and, turning to her friendly -_companion de voyage_, thanked him for his kind attention. - -"Holloa, Pem., is that you?" he cried, as his eyes fell on Kate's new -acquaintance. "I did not know I was travelling with a friend of yours. -I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again," he said to Kate, "as -you are going to the Wilsons'." - -"I shall be very happy," she returned, bowing, and walked towards the -cab. - -"Stop," whispered Master Pembridge, "make a bargain with the man before -they put up the luggage; you, go--I'll stay here." - -"No," said Kate, "I am afraid he would not mind me much. I dare say, he -will not charge more than he ought." - -Master Pem's usual state of amazement seemed to receive a slight -addition at these words, and as he followed Miss Vernon into the -vehicle, a keen ear might have overheard a muttered "my eye!" - -The noise of the streets was a good excuse for silence. Kate gazed -through the windows, recognising the various localities which she -faintly remembered from her short visit there, partly from Egerton's -anathematising descriptions, while Pem. gazed, with unremitting -assiduity and still surprised, at her. - -"Well, here we are, and I expect I am ready for my tea. You were -so late, I'm regularly cold waiting for you," and he blew his nose -audibly--a perpetual cold in the head characterised this specimen of -young Carrington. - -The door was opened by a melancholy-looking woman, who made no offer to -assist the cabman in removing the trunks, &c., from the vehicle. - -"There--I told you," said Pem., in triumph, as Jehu demanded four and -sixpence, and sixpence for the luggage; but Miss Vernon hastily paid -him, and entered the house, anxious to see the kind, gentle old lady -who wanted a daughter's companionship. - -"Come in, do, and shut that door," cried a hard, shrill voice from some -inner sanctum. "The wind is going right through my head." - -"This way, mem," said the melancholy female, and Kate entered a small -and very hot front parlor. A tall, large, slightly-bent old woman, with -a face as hard as her voice, was standing, her hands crossed behind -her back, on the hearth-rug. The broad expanse of her countenance was -spanned by a pair of capacious spectacles, depressed towards the left -eye, as if to give her spying propensities all the advantages of double -and single vision. - -"Miss Vernon. How do you do? how late you be," said she, giving Kate a -cold, stiff hand, guiltless of closing on the fair soft fingers which -took it. - -"Yes; the train was very often delayed," replied Kate, letting go, -with a sensation of repugnance, the unrelaxed collection of bone and -sinews proffered to her, and gazing with surprise at the huge cap, -which looked large enough for the mother of Anak's sons, though not at -all disproportioned to the head it covered; the old lady was richly -and substantially dressed, and had the unmistakeable air of well-lined -pockets. - -"Go, Pembridge, and look for your mama; you must be nigh starved, and -Miss Vernon too, I dare say; get the keys, will you, we are all ready -for tea. Will you come near the fire?" - -With these mingled directions and remarks, Mrs. Jorrocks, sen., -subsided into an arm chair of considerable dimensions, and stared at -Kate, who puzzled and confused by so terrible an awaking from her -dream of an interesting old lady, sat for a few minutes in unbroken -silence. - -"How did you leave Mrs. Tom," was at length asked by Miss Vernon's new -acquaintance. - -"Quite well. I saw her the day before yesterday; she desired many kind -messages to you." - -"They have been very gay up in London; time she settled at home." - -"Mrs. Jorrocks seems anxious to do so," replied Kate. - -"So she tells you; she be sharp enough; you were coming to me. Had you -a quiet journey?" - -"Very, thank you. I met a most polite old gentleman--a neighbour of -yours, at least, he knew your grandson." - -"Who can that be? what was he like?" - -Kate described him. - -"That will be Mr. Davis. I wonder what took him to London? we--" - -She was interrupted by the entrance of her daughter. - -Mrs. Wilson was a much more prepossessing person; she was rather an -exaggerated edition of Mrs. Storey--fatter, louder, more gossipping, -and less kind-hearted. She was older too; but still, rather pretty and -very well dressed. She welcomed Kate cordially enough, and proposed -shewing her her room before tea. It was a tiny chamber, but all her -own, and Kate was glad of its solitude for a few moments before joining -the party below. - -When she descended to the dining-room, she found an addition to the -circle in the person of the eldest son--a lad about a year older than -Pem., thin and fair; his countenance shewed a much higher degree of -intelligence than his brother's. He was reading when Kate came in, and -looked up to bow, (not to rise) for exactly the space of time necessary -for that operation. Pem. was also reading--a newspaper was his -study--he seemed to get on with difficulty, constantly snuffling, and -elevating his eye-brows, as if vainly attempting to open his small eyes -wider than nature intended. - -"Now then, Miss Vernon, I am sure you are ready for tea," said Mrs. -Wilson. "I ordered you a couple of eggs; you will want something more -substantial than a bit of toast after your journey." - -Kate silently agreed, longing for a glass of wine after her fatigue -of body and mind. However, she took a cup of tea very readily, albeit -washy enough. - -"Who do you think Miss Vernon travelled down with?" - -"Why how should I know, mother?" - -"Mr. Davis!" - -"Nev-er! I did not know he was up in town." - -"It's very strange," said Mrs. Jorrocks with a significant nod of -the head, "That patent he have paid so much money on, is not going -straight I dare say." - -"Mr. Davis, if he is the gentleman, did not get in till we reached -Wolverton," said Kate. - -"Wolverton," repeated Mrs. Wilson, "Whatever was he doing at -Wolverton?" Mrs. Jorrocks incapable of solving this problem shook her -head with awful significance, as she munched her buttered toast. The -young gentlemen read sociably all through the meal. "Here James," said -Mrs. Wilson to her eldest son, "Put this sugar basin away do, I am so -hot and tired pouring out tea; I dare say" (pronounced "dessay,") "Miss -Vernon will make tea for us now." - -The evening appeared very interminable to Kate; the boys were set to -their lessons immediately after tea, with an injunction from their -mother not to leave any for the morning, it made them so late at their -"breakfastses," and then mother and daughter in a species of duet -expatiated on the wonderful talents and acquirements of the eldest -son, until having exhausted their subject they commenced a severe cross -examination of herself, when a loud ring disturbed the enquiry, and -Mrs. Wilson started from her seat exclaiming "Law! how Wilson do ring." -Mr. Wilson was a short, thick man of even a more dingy, leaden-yellow -hue than his son; small piggish eyes, thick hearth-brush looking hair, -and a voice of unredeemed harshness, such as one might expect from a -slave driver, were his most striking characteristics. He was however -civil enough, made due enquiries after his brother-in-law, asked if -town was full, and the opera well attended, (oblivious in his anxiety -to put these fashionable queries, that it was September), and finally -betook himself to devour some chops, the bones of which he polished -with surprising dexterity, first however sending the boys to bed with -a sudden imperious sternness that absolutely startled Kate; she soon -pleaded fatigue and bid them good night. "We have prayers at half-past -eight, Miss Vernon," said Mrs. Wilson. - -"Indeed, well I shall be ready." - -The dreariness of those hours when Kate had extinguished her candle, -and in the darkness of night gave herself up to grief, we will not -attempt to describe--the exaggeration of distance between her and -all she had ever known--the agonised longing for some escape,--the -sense of utter estrangement from every familiar style of thought and -feeling--the inexpressible loathing of all around her; are not these -things written in the chronicles of many a memory? "Oh for a sound -of nurse's voice! she is so true, so loving, and Georgy, why are you -so far away. Will Mr. Winter never, never return! Is my life to pass -away thus with these terrible people. Oh grandpapa! I am so alone." -And ever with the thought of him Egerton's image rose before her; she -was too miserable to curb her thoughts as she was wont, and from the -silent depths of her heart, her spirit called to him agonisingly; with -unutterable longing, thirsting for a sound of his voice, as though it -were a spell to conjure away the gloom and the difficulties round her, -striving, panting in a death struggle fer happiness. Who dare limit the -power lent to the divine essence by the force of a mighty wish, when we -feel the intense longings of the imprisoned spirit darting in electric -streams towards the object so ardently desired. There are momentary -glimpses granted to the imagination, when purified by the agony of -suffering, of grandeur, power and liberty, so far beyond our mortal -state, that the first return to a commoner and calmer frame of mind, is -usually indicated by a shudder or a smile at our own "strange fancies." - -Yet what may not the spirit anticipate in its future? and what power -may not be momentarily lent it? even here a foretaste of that future. -The very depth of her emotion soothed Kate; she felt a gradual calm -stealing over her--was it that her wild yearning had accomplished its -end? - -About the same time, it might be the same night, far away, a deep blue, -star-lit eastern sky was shining in still beauty over the cantonments -of an English regiment, and Colonel Egerton was sleeping the restless -disturbed sleep of a low fever. He wakes suddenly--fully roused--with -a sense that he was wanted--that he was called. Yet he had not dreamt, -at least, distinctly; nor was it till after some moments' thought, he -connected that sudden impression with Miss Vernon--for Egerton was too -full of rational energy to have his mind perpetually filled with one -image. He had loved Kate, and still, at times, thought of her with -deep tenderness; but a life of activity pleased and occupied him. -Parting with her had swept away the light-hearted, buoyant gaiety of -his early days; but left enough of cheerfulness to make life still very -enjoyable. Time, absence, silence, above all, Burton's report, not long -received, were gradually doing their work--ere long, his heart would -have been free to cherish another, well and truly; yet never, oh, -never, with the same exquisitely tender, pure unselfish love which she -had breathed over the chaotic surface of his life; he still might taste -the sweetness of the grape; but the unspeakable loveliness of its first -fresh bloom was breathed upon--and vanished. - -Colonel Egerton was worse the next morning; the regimental surgeon -shook his head, and, at length, obtained a hearing, when, for the -fourth time, he suggested native air. - - * * * * * - -Life at Carrington, with its innumerable small trials, is too -monotonous to be carefully recorded. - -Kate had much to suffer; yet it was not all suffering. She soon -perceived the various _rôles_ enacted by the family. Mr. Wilson was a -thorough domestic tyrant, intense selfishness pervaded the whole party, -except, perhaps, Mrs. Wilson. The eldest son was a pedant, a dry, cold -calculating machine, who seemed chiefly to value his own unblemished -character, because it gave him a right to be implacable to the failings -of others. It is strange to write thus of the character of a boy not -seventeen; but none could connect him with the faintest outline of that -lovely, erring thing called "youth." - -He was, however, an unceasing source of pride to his family; and even -Pem., if he had an idea beyond his dinner, looked upon his brother as -something quite extraordinary. - -The day began with a severe trial, at least to Kate, in the shape of -morning prayers. She shrank from Mr. Wilson's harsh tones, doling forth -the gracious words of the gospel; and her rebellious thoughts refused -to follow the long discursive address they all knelt down to hear read -aloud, in accents of self-satisfied conscientiousness. Mr. Wilson -dwelt, with unction, on the petition for the health and safety of his -sovereign lady the Queen, and at the proper place even mentioned the -servants, who, with demure and downcast looks occupied three chairs at -the furthest possible distance permissible by the limits of the room. -Then followed breakfast, at which he generally took the worth of his -prayers out of them, in short, savage fault finding. - -The morning meal over, Mrs. Jorrocks took her knitting, and Kate's duty -was to read aloud, to her, till dinner time--one o'clock. But the books -in which Mrs. Jorrock's soul delighted, were, unfortunately, of a class -by no means suited to Miss Vernon. They were chiefly remarkable for the -distinguished rank and general hard-heartedness of their characters, -excepting only the heroine and her lover, whose sufferings, mental and -physical, were rather supernatural; and usually drew tears from Kate's -listener, who would have turned unmoved from the most affecting case -of real distress; to be sure the novel only asked her tears, reality -might have had some pretensions to touch her pocket. - -Kate, however, read on perseveringly, she had made some attempts to -recommend the style of book more suited to her own taste, and the -age of her new protectress; but they were not well received, and she -was compelled to return to the "dungeon and subterranean passage," -revengeful, mysterious-stranger class of literature; still this was -nothing to the task of reading aloud the newspapers. The police reports -formed Mrs. Jorrocks' chief delight, and she expected Kate to read -aloud, unhesitatingly the awful and revolting disclosures which the -liberty of the press demands should disgrace its columns. This duty -Kate gently and firmly refused, and she received unexpected support -from Mrs. Wilson, who offered to read them herself. Nothing surprised -Miss Vernon more than the untiring assiduity with which Mrs. Jorrocks -devoted herself to the elucidation of her neighbours' affairs; none -were too humble, none too exalted for her universal curiosity. The -house-maid's lover, and the mayor's wife, the charwoman, and the -duchess--she had scandalous stories of them all! Kate sometimes -wondered if she thought well of her own children; she was never -actively cross, nor could you ever discern that she was pleased, -save on those rare occasions when a couple of aggravated failures -amongst her acquaintances--a murder, a suicide, and the elopement -of somebody's husband or wife, by their united excitement enabled -her to pass a cheerful and satisfactory morning. Kate was almost -surprised to perceive she was actually gaining favour in the eyes of -this uncongenial old woman. She did not know the effect which her own -grace and refinement produced upon the stiff, rugged, clayey nature -she was thus brought in contact with. Each member of the family felt -instinctively her superiority to themselves, while her unassuming -gentleness prevented any of that soreness of feeling with which -superiority is usually acknowledged; and although at first Kate was -often disagreeably surprised to find that her presence was unnoticed -when visitors came in, and no conversation was addressed to her who had -been ever accustomed to find herself an object in society; yet all this -wore off soon, and both Mrs. Jorrocks and her daughter learned to be -proud of their elegant-looking inmate. - -The greatest relief Miss Vernon experienced during this _triste sejour_ -was from the kind attentions of Mr. Davis's family, who were their near -neighbours, and presented Kate with what she considered a beau ideal of -an English merchant's family--hospitable, intellectual, well educated; -respecting their own middle-class position, without a trace of that -envious malignity towards rank which so often distinguishes _les -nouveaux riches_. They might, perhaps, lack that extreme outward grace -of manner and bearing, which nothing but an infancy and childhood -passed among the refining influences of aristocratic accessories can -bestow; but in every essential point they were ladies and gentlemen. A -few hours passed with them was an inexpressible refreshment to Kate's -spirit, and warmly was she received: they delighted in her music, and -she willingly sang, even her most sacred songs, for them. Another--the -only other comfort in Kate's life, was that Mrs. Jorrocks always -retired early, and then she used to lock her door, and, if she felt her -heart strong enough, indulge herself in a long study of the sketches -Egerton had given her of Dungar and of the Priory. - -Meantime Lady Desmond's letters were pretty constant, she repeatedly -pressed Kate to return, sometimes with an earnestness that bespoke -truth--sometimes with a certain coldness; but Miss Vernon's invariable -reply was--that she would not join her, at all events, until after -Christmas. - -Nurse's letters always filled Kate's heart with a curious mixture -of pleasure and pain--she forced herself to write to that faithful -friend, with unreal cheerfulness; and nurse, who was totally ignorant -of Carrington, and its inhabitants, was happy in believing "Miss Kate -was stoppin' in some grand place, away from thim shop-keeping Storeys." -She had persisted in her intention of leaving Lady Desmond; and the -following is the account she gave of herself, in a letter received by -Kate, about a fortnight after she had reached Carrington:-- - - "You'll be surprised to see where I write from, but afther mee goin' - hot foot to Killeesh, there was'nt the sign of wan belongin' to me in - the place, an' nothing but the hoigth of misery and starvation. The - Priest's housekeeper, a dacent woman, took me in the chapel-house; an' - the next day, I walked the whole eight miles over to Dungar. Oh, Miss - Kate, agra! It was the sore sight to me! Like the corpse of wan ye - loved, it was--there was the dear ould place, and the house that was - iver open, an' the wood, an' the stones, an' the say--but the life an' - the heart was gone out of it, an' glory be to God! the divils that - tuck it never had luck nor grace, but has been tearin' each other, at - law, iver since; an yez might have lived in pace for all they got out - of it. I said mee prayers on the hall door steps, where the masther - (the heaven's be his bed!) used to stan' an' hear all the poor people - had to say. I thought the life would lave me when I rus meesilf to - go back--I had no strength; but be the hoight of luck, who come upon - a low back car, but ould Paddy Byrne--'twas he was glad to see me, - an' quite moidhered to find me there without yerself--so he give me a - cast to Killeesh; but I was so sick of the sorra, I could do nothin' - for--that I come away afther mee sisther's daughther here--they'e - doing very well, an' have a nice little shop, with soap an' candles; - an' tay an' kid gloves; an' all to that in it. An' I'm tired of bein' - idle, so take in a thrifle iv work, an' clear-starchin'--I get plinty - from the officers' ladies, an' it amuses me till ye send for me, ah! - whin 'ill that be, avourneen? - - Mee lady and me parted great frinds, an' she put five goulden guineas - in mee hand, an' tauld me to come back whin iver I like, so I've not - touched yer money agra! but I must stop, for I'm tired intirely with - the writin'." - -This long letter was written from Fermoy, and passionately did Kate -weep over the picture it drew of her deserted home. - - * * * * * - -Time rolled on rapidly, for little occurred to mark it, and Kate had -almost ceased to battle with the dull despondency that was creeping -over her. The perpetual reading aloud of insipid romances, which -alone found favour in the eyes of Mrs. Jorrocks; the efforts to keep -awake in the close atmosphere of the stifling parlour, the occasional -outburst of tyrannic rage from Mr. Wilson, savage as they were in -all the rude reality of a rugged nature, excited into forgetfulness -of its efforts to be "genteel;" and, which though never addressed -to Kate, seemed to insult her by their unrestrained violence; these -various petty annoyances, daily, hourly, repeated, made up a terrible -sum--occasionally the wild wish to escape to nurse, even if it were to -join her in plain work, and clear-starching--would swell her heart to -bursting, and then would come the reaction! Where in truth could she -go? Her cousin's alternations of coldness and affection, she could not -brave--no; it was due to herself to keep aloof, until some more cordial -acknowledgment of her error and injustice was made by Lady Desmond. - -Mrs. Storey wrote seldom, and did not make any renewal of her -invitation--of other friends or relatives, she had none, at least, in -the true meaning of these words. So the passionate yearning with which -her thoughts ever sprang to seek the means of escape, after treading -the same circle over and over, returned like a bird, weary of beating -the wires of its cage, to their last hope--a letter from Winter, on his -return. - -But it is weary work to dwell upon the sameness of such suffering; none -can fully appreciate it, save those enlightened by experience--though -many might have found companionship to Mrs. Jorrocks a severer -probation. The world must become older, and purer, and more -christianised, before the exercise of power can be resisted, or the -charm of torturing those who are weak, foregone. - -Sunday was a day of great eating at Carleton-terrace--in short, Mrs. -Wilson, on that day, indulged the household in a dinner, the usual -week-day meals not deserving the name. On these occasions Master Pem. -eat till he could eat no more, and paused in silent regret, that -nature had provided such insufficient stowage. The scholar, James, was -less eager, but more select, and ever sent up his plate, accompanied -with some especial direction, as to the particular dainties he desired. -Mr. Wilson's efforts did not fall far short of those of his offspring; -and if vexed by any errors in elegance, on the part of his wife, -regaled the party over a bottle of port, with some choice anecdotes of -various celebrities, fashionable and political, which smacked strongly -of the commercial-room--frequent repetition might have robbed them of -their first freshness, but his family were well trained, and always -laughed at the right place. - -Sunday morning, at church, was perhaps the proudest moment of Mr. -Wilson's life, when he stood erect and spruce in his pew; and, -condescendingly, classed himself in audible tones with the other -"miserable sinners" of the congregation. No part of the service did -he neglect--he even joined in the singing, with a voice so utterly -discordant, that Kate absolutely started, and turned to look from -whence the horrid sounds proceeded, the first time she heard them. -Church was the grand theatre of display to Mesdames Jorrocks and Wilson -and the great proportion of their acquaintances; and a lively topic of -conversation on their return home. - -"Did you see what a velvet mantle Mrs. B----, have on? asks the mother." - -"Yes; it cost ten guineas, if it cost a penny," returns the daughter. - -"And her husband be deep in the "great Midland;" maybe, next year -she'll have to wear Linsey-woolsey." - -"You never see such lace as Miss F. had, trimming her bonnet--that -depth," cried Mrs. Wilson, with eager rapidity, and holding out a -finger, &c. - -Then came a few words on the sermon, which was quickly despatched; -and thus was the interval between church and dinner whiled away; -and though it may place Miss Vernon very far back on the list of any -sanctified reader, it must be confessed she never looked forward with -much pleasure to the day of rest. Mr. Wilson's anecdotical powers were -rather too much to endure for an entire sabbath day. - -The third month of Kate's purgatorial sojourn, was opening gloomily -enough, when one Sunday morning, as they were assembled at breakfast, -in more than usually gorgeous array--as a popular preacher was expected -to draw "a full house--" a loud ring announced the post. - -"I'll engage it's for Miss Vernon," said Mrs. Jorrocks, "I never see -such a many letters as you do get." - -But Kate did not heed her, her eyes were fastened on the letter handed -across the table by Master Pem. who detained it to read the direction, -observing--"It's a gentleman's hand," and eliciting a stern--"Hold -your tongue, sir," from his father. A mist swam before Kate's eyes, -and a spasm of hope and fear shook her heart as she recognised -Langley's hand, "it must be a letter from Mr. Winter," she murmured, -"will you allow me?" and with trembling fingers broke the seal--but no, -it was from Langley himself. Oh, Heavens! had any thing happened. - - "MY DEAR MISS VERNON, - - "I lose no time in informing you that I had a letter this morning from - Winter, dated the 20th, nearly three weeks ago; he writes in good - health and spirits, and talks of returning immediately; he is anxious - to know where you are; uncertainty on this point, from some passage in - your last letter, having kept him silent. I should not be surprised at - his arrival any day. - - "Hoping this letter may find you well, and in haste to catch the post. - - "Your's faithfully, - - "WILLM. LANGLEY." - -The first movement of her mind was disappointment, that Winter had not -written to herself. - -"I thought I told him to direct as usual, to Mr. Langley; there must -have been some mistake; I forget what I wrote, but he may be back very -soon, perhaps next week--and then--" - -What a bright indistinct feeling of hope and freedom expanded her -heart--yet she felt strangely nervous and trembling, as if the shadow -of some coming crisis had fallen upon her, and she hastily swallowed a -glass of cold water to refresh her parched mouth, before performing the -inevitable journey to church. - -Mr. Wilson's pew was irreproachable in point of size and position, it -was not however faultless, for a large pillar, supporting the gallery, -reduced one corner to an invisible nook, where the most splendid -bonnet, and richest brocade might be for ever hidden from the eyes of -an admiring congregation. Here Kate had established her position, -and was permitted to retain it unmolested, and in most profound and -grateful thanksgiving she knelt that morning. - -The church was crowded to excess--strangers stood in the aisle--under -the pulpit--in the door-ways--pew-openers waxed curt and imperious -in the exercise of unusual powers. Several well-dressed individuals -had been accommodated with seats in Mr. Wilson's pew, when Kate's eye -was involuntarily attracted by the distinguished air of a gentleman, -who had been shown into a seat, two or three rows in front of her, -during the second lesson; his back was towards her, of course, and she -felt vexed with herself for the pertinacity with which her eyes and -thoughts returned to him; his tall figure seemed familiar to her, as -she contrasted its easy grace with the forms around; so did the wavy -dark brown hair, the proud turn of the head, and as she gazed, her -heart throbbed, and the colour mounted to her cheeks. Surely it was a -waking dream, yet she could not be mistaken. No! it must be him--that -bow, as he returned a book, she had dropped, to the lady next him, none -but Egerton could have made it. Oh, that he would turn his face; but he -still stood or sat in the same position, and Kate, every pulse beating, -now pale, now flushing, striving vainly to think of the service--her -thoughts, now darting away into the past, now crying from the depths of -her soul to God for strength for the future, tried to still the wild -glowing anticipations which swept in sudden rapture over her spirit, as -the aurora borealis streams across the northern gloom. It was too bold, -too far-fetched a thought that he still remembered her, why should she -expect it. - -At last, Doctor M---- mounted the pulpit, the hymn was finished, and -with a rustle of expectation the audience settled themselves in their -seats then--then the individual who engrossed Kate's every thought, -turned to face the preacher, and leaning his arm on the back of the -pew, revealed his well-known profile, and ended her uncertainty. - -Doctor M---- preached well, and Egerton listened attentively, but the -sound of his voice scarce reached Kate's ears. In her quiet nook, -she gazed uninterruptedly on the face so often seen in her sleeping -and waking visions, at last, after so much of trial and suffering, -restored to her--the vague unacknowledged hope that had woven one -golden thread through her dreams of the future, where they, in sober -earnest, about to be accomplished? How she longed to hear his voice, -as if at its first sound the past would return to her, as it was -when they had parted. It was strange how he had twined himself round -her heart--he from whom she had parted without much of pain; but now -indissolubly linked with all that was brightest and best in her life, -all that she had loved and lost. Sorrow had revealed his heart to -hers, and the light of memory had shown her the true meaning of those -silent indications of bitter regret with which he had left her. And -now he looked older, darker, graver--calm thought had deepened the -expression of his eyes, and imparted a certain dignity to his brow, -and Kate felt he was no longer the gay, careless soldier she had -dared to lecture. There was a repose that bespoke strength even in -his attitude, and she longed to meet his eye, yet shrank from it with -fevered anticipation. Still he listened with grave, quiet, attention -to the eloquent reasoning of the preacher--and Kate grew restless, -and fearful that he would not see her; she calculated the chances of -their meeting, when the congregation was dispersing, and thought it -could not possibly fail to occur; but the very doubt filled her with -terror; if they did not meet now, months, years might pass over before -their dissimilar roads in life would again cross! and even if he should -remember, or enquire for her, who was there who could give him a clue -to her whereabouts; but the congregation was bending to receive the -benediction, and the decisive moment arrived. Colonel Egerton, with a -bow of acknowledgment to the owner of the seat, in which he had been -placed, rose, and gazing abstractedly over the crowd, above which his -tall figure rose proudly--moved down the aisle; the pressure compelled -him to stop a moment by the door of Mr. Wilson's pew, but the large -pillar interposed itself between Kate and the recognising glance, -for which she so yearned. Mrs. Jorrocks never was so slow in her -movements--she never leant so heavily before on Kate's slight arm, all -quivering with the wild beating of her heart; still they were but a few -steps behind him--if he would only turn his head! but no; he dreamt not -of the imprisoned spirit, so passionately yearning to catch one glance -from eyes, through which he gazed so listlessly! They were in the -door-way, and freed from the crowd, Colonel Egerton paused a moment, -as if to decide on his movements--put on his hat, and turning to the -right, walked away with a quick, firm, soldierly step--away--out of -sight--gone! - -There was talk of Doctor M----'s wonderful sermon, as they wended -their way home--of how he had finally and utterly annihilated -the Pope; but Kate heard no sound, save a sad echo in her heart -repeating--"gone--gone." - -Vain would it be to describe the anguish with which she threw herself -on her bed, when free and alone, and gave herself up to an agony of -hysteric sobs. Was it a dark fate hanging over her, ever to catch -glimpses of happiness, and there to lose them? Why need she hope or -struggle any more--all she longed for, was darkness and silence--never, -never again might she be as she was; when such a trifle had debarred -her from so bright a meeting, dare she hope the insuperable barrier of -distance would ever be removed? She could not rouse herself from this -paroxysm--the buoyancy of her spirit seemed, at last, worn out; and -head and heart alike aching, she lay in the stillness of exhaustion, -across her bed, when the servant came to summon her to dinner. - -"I think Mrs. Tom have sent me a bad bargain after all," was Mrs. -Jorrocks's observation, on receiving an account of Miss Vernon's -indisposition. "I see I'll have to pay my forty pounds a year for the -nursetending of her--she looked like a ghost this week, and didn't mind -a word she was reading of--but it's always the way--new brooms." - -"Well I'm sure, mother, it's only the heat at church--she will be -better to-morrow." - -"She need'nt go to church, if she don't like to." - -Kate only asked for quiet, and her own room, unmolested, for a few -days--this was permitted her; and there she lay, through the long, -weary, dark hours, brooding over the past, sometimes struggling with -nature's repugnance to depression; but for awhile careless and -indifferent to all without; then she strove to rally her scattered -forces, to remember that Winter was soon to return. - -"And until that hope too is gone, I will not despair--God is so good, -and wise--He sees I have had so much sorrow--He will send me joy, -sooner or later--yes; I will hope still." - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -THE LAST. - - -The Saturday after the event last recorded, Kate was bending sadly -enough over her daily task, reading the _Court Circular_ to Mrs. -Jorrocks--her thoughts wandering to some letters from Lady Desmond, and -from nurse, which she had not had the heart to answer. - -"The Countess of P----, is entertaining a large party at P---- -Castle--the Prince di ----, and Count Alphonso di ----, are among the -distinguished visitors. - -"The Earl of Effingham left Cowes, on Tuesday last, in his yacht, -the 'Meteor,' for St. Petersburgh, where we understand it is his -lordship's intention to winter." - -"He be a shocking man," observed Mrs. Jorrocks, _en parenthése_, "such -stories as Mr. Wilson have heard of him up in London. Go on please--I -think you be half asleep this morning." - -But Kate was now wide awake--so he was gone at last--Lady Desmond must -hear it--all would be clear to her--she could no longer doubt! Miss -Vernon took fresh courage, and began again:-- - -"A matrimonial alliance between the Marquis of ----, and the beautiful -----." - -A loud ring. - -"Whoever can ring so loud!--they'll bring down the bell! one would -think they wished to--stay till I ask Eliza," exclaimed Mrs. Jorrocks. - -In another moment, Eliza put in her head-- - -"Please, Miss Vernon, you're wanted." - -Kate rose, and left the room, carelessly, thinking Mrs. Wilson -required her presence; but the instant she passed the door, her -eyes fell upon a stout, dumpy figure, which, hat in hand, stood on -the door-mat--an unmistakeable figure, for a sight of which she had -so pined. What she said, or did, she could not tell; some vague -remembrance of throwing her arms round his neck, and sobbing there--she -did preserve; but Winter has often said--that the way in which she -clung to him, as if she could never grasp so blessed a reality close -enough--her eager caresses--her broken exclamations of joy, affected -him deeply, and revealed her past sufferings, more eloquently, than the -most elaborate description. - -"Well; but, _figlia mia_" said Winter, as she grew a little calmer, -and they sat together in the fireless dining-room; "you look pale and -thin," and he held her from him, and gazed at her till the moisture -stood in his keen, black eyes. "My dear child, I am much to blame--I -have neglected you; but I will atone for it--your last letter misled -me completely; yet I ought to have returned home before." - -"Oh! no, no! you are always good. Thank God--thank God, you are come at -last." - -"Yes! We arrived on Wednesday, and the next day I called on Langley; -he gave me a sketch of your proceedings that thoroughly perplexed -me. I had matters to arrange on Friday morning which could not be -postponed, but my wife gave me no peace till I started by the mail -train at nine o'clock last evening--so here I am!" Kate listened in -rapt attention--was she really sitting once more beside the kind good -artist? "My child, I fear you have suffered much, but we will try to -cheer you up; if you prefer doing the thing independently, Mrs. Winter -has grown a great lady, and requires a companion quite as much as Mrs. -Rollocks, or Jollocks, or whatever her name is--and her husband too," -continued Winter, more thickly than ever. "In a few weeks I shall have -my house in A---- back on my hands--what say you, Kate, to making the -old couple happy till you go to a home of your own? We may not be gay; -but--" - -"Oh! hush, hush! You do not know how overpoweringly delightful such a -vision seems to me." - -"Vision!--_Corpo di Bacco_, it shall be reality; and Mrs. O'Toole! my -adopted daughter must have her own maid--_che gloria_--I have been -expecting to see her broad, honest face every minute. My Kate--it must -have gone hard with you to part with her." - -But Kate could not speak--she could only clasp Winter's hand in both -of hers, and murmur a broken thanksgiving, her eyes rivetted on her -companion in speechless gratitude. - -"But this is all waste of time," resumed Winter, "and you will -have enough to do to be ready to return with me by the two o'clock -train--Mrs. Winter expects us to tea this evening." - -"This evening!--Oh! I can be ready in a moment," cried Kate -rapturously. "But,"--her countenance fell--"I must not, I fear--I could -not be rude to these people; they have been civil to me in their way." - -"_Poter del mondo! cospetta!_" cried Winter thickly and stoutly; "I -will lose sight of you no more, and I have no time to stay in this -confounded cotton-spinning metropolis. Let me see these dragons of -yours. I am he that will bell the cat." - -So they went into the front parlour, Kate still clinging to his arm. - -"My friend, Mr. Winter, Mrs. Jorrocks," said Kate. - -"Please to sit down, sir," returned that lady. - -"I am come to take Miss Vernon away with me," began Winter, in abrupt -and decided tones. - -"Oh! you be----But I think it is rather sudden. What am I to do--and -where will you be if I say no?" - -"My dear madam, I shall still be in Carrington. It is quite natural you -should not like to part with Miss Vernon; in short, she expressed to me -her reluctance to leave you, abruptly, and all that sort of thing; but -I want her, and my wife wants her, and I am sure you will not stand in -her way." - -Here Mrs. Wilson entered in a new cap, and Winter was duly presented. - -"This gentleman is for taking Miss Vernon away to-day. I declare he has -quite took away my breath," said Mrs. Jorrocks. - -"_Never_," returned her daughter. "Well, if that isn't the strangest -thing." - -"Oh! as Miss Vernon is in such a hurry I'll not stop her, only since -she has broken her engagement she must take the consequences." - -"That is not of the least importance," said Mr. Winter. - -"It would distress me to seem rude where I have received courtesy," -said Kate; "but surely you must sympathise in my anxiety to be once -more domesticated with such kind and valued friends. Mr. Winter must -return to town; I should much like to accompany him." - -And thereupon Mesdames Jorrocks and Wilson burst forth into a -vociferous and vituperative duet-- - -"There was gratitude for you! She had been treated more like a daughter -than a dependent; and what was she but a companion after all. There -was no end to the favours she had received, but it was the way with -the Irish always. It would be a lesson to them how to treat the next -companion they got! And now, when this gentleman, whom they had never -heard of before, appears, as if from the clouds, Miss Vernon is ready -to walk off with him. It was very odd his wife (if he _had_ a wife) -could not wait a day or two--people who had to earn their bread should -be very careful--and what would Mr. Wilson say," &c., &c. - -"Kate, my dear," said Winter, coolly, "go and put up your things--I see -this is no place for you--I will wait here." - -She left the room, much annoyed to be obliged to part with Mrs. -Jorrocks on such terms, yet to stay behind Winter was an impossibility; -so, resolutely determining, she hastily packed up her worldly effects, -remembering, thankfully, the different mood in which she had last -stowed them away. - -Winter meantime exerted himself to converse with the amiable mother and -daughter, and not without effect. He talked in his most eccentric and -abrupt manner, and finally impressed them with the notion that he was -a whimsical but wealthy millionaire, to whose fancies it was Kate's -interest to accommodate herself. Matters, consequently, wore a less -stormy aspect on Kate's return to the sitting-room; both ladies were -cool, and Winter very lively. - -"So you are off, Miss Vernon," said Mrs. Wilson; "I did not think we -should part so sudden." - -"I offer Miss Vernon the alternative to return with me, and be my -daughter and heiress, or to remain here and be neither," broke in -Winter conclusively. - -"Well, I suppose you had better go--you acknowledge I owe you nothing," -put in Mrs. Jorrocks. - -"I do indeed! Will you give this note, with my kindest regards, to Mrs. -Davis?" returned Kate. - -"And," observed Winter, "permit your servant to call a cab." - -A few more awkward moments, and the cab drove up. - -"Well, good bye, Mrs. Jorrocks--you forgive my abrupt departure?" - -"I suppose I must--good bye;" and again the rigid hand was held out -stiff and cold. - -"Good bye, Miss Vernon--I wish you 'appy," said Mrs. Wilson, and she -was free! - -It was a gloomy, drizzling November day, yet she thought there was -something cheery in the sensation of safety from wet conveyed by the -substantial look of the carriages drawn up beside the platform, where -Winter's impatience hurried them nearly an hour too soon. He had tried -to persuade Kate to eat something during this interval, and though -excitement left her little appetite, she swallowed a sandwich and a -glass of wine to please him. - -At last, the arrival of luggage and passengers became more frequent -and hurried--first and second bells were rung--places taken--doors -banged--a jerk forward--another back--and they were off--not at full -speed at once, but slowly through the tunnel--leaving Kate time to -look at the spot where she felt so desolate, the day she arrived; and, -contrasting her present feelings with that terrible period, she knew, -for the first time, perhaps, how much she had suffered. It was better -for her that the disappointment at Egerton's not recognising her had -come before, not after Winter's return--it was something to keep the -balance of her heart amid so much delight. The recollection of it had -never left her mind for a single instant since the Sunday before, till -Winter's presence had, for a moment, overpowered it with a flood of -light. Already, however, it was beginning to return, yet less gloomily, -less hopelessly, mingling with some more clearly acknowledged sense -of duty to herself--that it was too bold, too unmaidenly to think -so much of one who perhaps thought but little of her! Yes--she was -strong enough to be proud again. Oh! the enjoyment of that journey! -everything looked so pleasant--even the drenched country through -which they flew--and the stiff, old-maidish-looking woman opposite, -who read "vestiges of the Natural History of the Creation" the whole -way--munching biscuits till the carriage was strewn with the vestiges -of modern crumbs; and the two gentlemen, one from Hampshire, and the -other from North of the Tweed, who discussed Free Trade so warmly with -Mr. Winter--and dear Mr. Winter himself, his rosy, round, well-shaven -face, with its twinkling eyes, sparkling over a dark brown Spanish -cloak, of melo-dramatic dimensions, majestically folded round him, -while his head was cosily tied up in a templar cap, with flaps over the -ears! How radiant is each object viewed through the medium of a happy -heart! - -Then as evening closed in, and after rushing by many a quiet little -station with its red flag, and signal-man's outstretched arms, how -joyous was Winter's look, as he drew out his watch. - -"Half-past four! we shall be at Euston Square not long after eight." - -A few minutes pause at Wolverton, while the porters trampling heavily -overhead put in the lighted lamps--and jerk, clash--they were off -again. The Hampshire gentleman drew up a window that had been slightly -open, and renewed his argument. - -"And though the legislature leaves the farmer no protection, the -legislators will not lower their rents a fraction. Why, down in my -county, Lord Egerton, of Allerton, took off two and a half per cent -last year; and to read the address, and hear the speeches he made about -it, you would think he had made each tenant a present of his holding. -Thanking Heaven for putting so christian an act into his heart, &c., -&c.; and now they say he will never recover; and his brother will be -putting the screw on again, I suppose." - -"Is Lord Egerton ill then?" asked Winter, with some interest. - -"He had a paralytic seizure about four or five months ago, and has been -in a very bad state ever since; his brother, Colonel Egerton, was sent -for to India; he was down at Allerton a short time since, not very well -himself, I believe." - -Kate's soul was in her ears during this communication; and while she -chided herself for thinking of him, her thoughts dwelt on Egerton, -till, at last, wearied by the excitement, she had gone through, her -slight, graceful form lent more and more against the side of the -carriage, and she slept. Winter carefully drew her cloak round her, and -fastened it closer to her throat; and, as she opened her eyes, slightly -roused by his movement, she silently thanked God that she was no more -uncared for and alone. - -"Tickets if you please," were the next sounds that met her ear--"Great -time! only just eight," from Winter, as she looked up bewildered after -the disturbed sleep in which she had indulged. - -"Where are we?" - -"Near home," said Winter, while his bead-like eyes twinkled with more -than usual vivacity. - -"Sure you have left no indispensable carpet-bag behind? got your -parasol? all right--in with you--14, Orchard Street--drive fast." - -And away through dull, dark streets, now whisk round a corner into a -blaze of light and flaring gas jets over butchers' stalls--now winding -through omnibusses--anon dashing past the brilliantly lit up _entré_ to -some concert room--again into darkness undiminished save by the street -lamps and hall lights--then a rumble over the side stones. - -"Here we are," from Winter--as the door flew open before their -charioteer could knock. - -Mrs. Winter, standing under the lamp, in a cap that looked as if it had -been made at A----, herself neat, as though she never had encountered a -Spanish flea. - -"Dearest Kate! I thought you would never come!" - -A sobbing, joyous embrace, and she was swept up-stairs, where even the -London lodging looked homelike under Mrs. Winter's benign influence. -Then came the plentiful tea--hot cakes, and broiled ham and eggs, with -mulled port for the lady, and brandy-and-water for the gentleman--and -the delicious confusion of cross questions, and most irrelevant -answers--and the mingling of tears and smiles! - -"Now you must go to bed," said Winter; "see, it is long past one--and -that poor child has been in constant agitation all day--she has not a -vestige of color in her cheeks." - -"Indeed, my dear, you look ill--yes--you must go to bed," observed his -wife, with her usual kindly precision, which nothing but the actual -excitement of the moment of meeting could break through, and which Kate -recognized joyfully as an old friend. - -"The sober certainty of waking bliss," may well be weighed against the -agony of first waking after grief. And Kate lay for some time, the next -morning, comparing this Sunday with the last; then her thoughts flew -to nurse, and she sprang up to communicate to her the joyful news of -her emancipation. - -"Ah! I have heart to write now." - -Winter and his wife soon asked for a fuller and more connected account -than she had yet given them of her life since they had last met; and -though it cost her many tears, the recital did her good. How clearly -through it all could she trace the guiding of Almighty love, ever -hovering near to interpose its aid when the bowed spirit failed beneath -its burden. No, they were not bitter tears she shed that morning. -And, sometimes, her eyes would sparkle brightly through them, as she -recounted nurse's undeviating self-devotion and unfailing truth. She -thought little of herself during the narration, nor dreamt it was the -quiet, undaunted heroism her words involuntarily displayed--the heroism -of exhaustless love, careless of its own wealth, that drew such quick -sobs from Mrs. Winter, and made her good little husband wink his eyes, -and blow his nose, so furtively, and so often. - -Both the artist and his wife perceived there was some mystery attached -to Kate's separation from Lady Desmond, into which they must not pry; -and so, with praiseworthy self-denial, accepted, unquestioned, the -account she chose to give of her wish to be independent, &c., &c., &c. - -"I feel I neglected you, my dear Kate," said Winter, as she paused, -wearied by her long recital, "but the perfect content of your last -letter induced me, without any fixed plan, to ramble on and on, -like some butterfly attracted from flower to flower, lost in a rich -profusion of magnificent subjects. Madame bore it all wonderfully; -I owe her much for her patience; and I intended every day, for the -last six weeks, to write and tell you what time we had fixed on for -our return, though I fancied, from what you last said, that you and -Lady Desmond intended to leave England, and ramble God knows where; -therefore, I always thought it better to wait; as you were in good -hands, a few weeks, one way or the other, would make no difference--so -I loitered on, scarcely hoping to find you in England on my return; -at last we found ourselves at Gibralter, so late in the year, and so -tired of knocking about, that we took the Peninsular and Oriental -steamer, and, after a tedious passage, arrived here, as I told you, -last Wednesday. In three weeks, I trust, the house in the Abbey-gardens -will be free, and then, with God's blessing, we will keep Christmas -thankfully in the old place--would you like this?" - -"If you had read my most inmost wish for the coming season, which I so -dreaded, it would be to spend it where I was so happy, and grandpapa so -respected." - -"But, my dear," said Mrs. Winter to her husband, "don't you think -Kate ought to have advice? She changes color so, and her pulse is very -irregular." - -"My kind friend, no," said Kate, leaning her head on Mrs. Winter's -shoulder, "_you_ have brought me all I want--the sense of home. I will -rest during the three weeks we are to be here--rest profoundly--and, at -the end of that time, you shall have, please God, a rosy, cheerful--" -she paused, and added, enquiringly, "daughter." - -Winter took her hand, and pressed it gravely and affectionately, as if -accepting her; his wife kissed her cheek, and there was a silence of -deep feeling. - -"Now I must write." - -"Who to?" asked Winter. - -"Georgy and nurse." - -"Very well; tell the latter (may she not, Sue?) that the moment we are -settled at A----, We will summon her to wait on our daughter." - -"Yes--I shall be proud to have her about you, she is excellent," -returned his wife. - -And Kate wrote. Oh, how vain all language to depict the gratitude -with which she wrote; yet she would fain have despatched an order -for nurse's immediate return to her; but she was pleased, right well -pleased, to have so near a prospect of re-union before her. - -And peacefully did the days glide over, and pleasant too, though London -wore its November gloom--without might be fog and damp, cold winds and -muddy streets--within were bright fires and calm, full hearts. Kate, -in spite of herself, felt, at times, restless to know more of Egerton, -though she could not bring herself to speak of him; but then she had -so much to hear from Winter; so many exquisite sketches to examine; -so much to discuss, relative to a picture he intended exhibiting next -Spring; new books, reviews, and music, amongst which to revel, so that -her mind was well filled. - -Langley and Mrs. Storey soon made their way to see her; the latter -was, undoubtedly, of great use to Mrs. Winter, and an unimpeachable -authority on all matters connected with shopping; they made endless -excursions together, while Kate remained quietly at home, for a slight -pain in the chest made Winter a little uneasy, and repose seemed now to -her the greatest pleasure. - -She had enjoyed nearly a week of this welcome rest, when the following -letter from Lady Desmond was put into her hand-- - - "Perhaps the only intelligence which could have gladdened my heart, - was that conveyed by your letter, dearest Kate. At last, my eyes - are opened, fully opened, to the culpable folly and injustice of my - conduct. Now, when it is too late to spare you the suffering I have - inflicted. If you could see how I loathe myself, you would weep for - me. God gave me health, and riches, an unspotted name, and a fair - position; I paid back no tithe of gratitude or duty--and after a life - of self-indulgence--He gave me the gracious task to guard and cherish - my benefactor's child--see how I have performed the one incumbent but - pleasant duty placed so clearly before me--discarded it--rejected it, - for an unholy phantom. Oh, Kate, Kate! you are so patient, so good, so - forgiving; and I, as I write each excellence, seem to myself so base, - and implacable, and imperious, I am not worthy that you should come - under my roof. But, thank God, your true, kind friends are restored - to you--I see you are happy, and now I understand but too well why - you remained so long at Carrington. Good Heavens! to what have I not - driven you--persuading myself that your own guilty conscience would - not permit you to accept the invitations I compelled myself to make. - I do not ask you to forgive me--I know you do; but, oh, write to - me--reconcile me to myself--I cannot rest. I wear myself out among - these wretched people whom I half envy for their absorption in mere - physical suffering, and still I do not sleep. I want to see you, to - hear your voice. Oh, I am wretched. - - "Write to me again--say you are happy--it is all that can console me. - - "Yours, as in our old days, - - "G. DESMOND." - -Kate did not lose an hour in replying to this letter, she wrote with -all the simple wisdom of a true, pure, loving heart. True, deep, -unchanging sympathy, and judicious respect, breathed through every -line, and at the conclusion she declared her readiness to join her -cousin as soon as Christmas, (which she had faithfully promised to -spend with the Winters) was over. - -"Or you might visit A----," she continued, "you would, I know, like -my kind friends so much--you would enjoy Mr. Winter's artistic -enthusiasm, and his wife's excellent quaintness. We shall have many -pleasant days together yet, dearest Georgy, and leaving our faulty past -in the hands of a merciful judge--help each other to live a better and -a higher life for future." - -Miss Vernon was here interrupted by the servant of the house, who came -to say Mr. Winter was in the drawing-room, with a gentleman, and wanted -her. - -"Very well, I will be down in a moment," replied Miss Vernon, "I -suppose it is Mr. Langley," she thought, as she hastily finished her -letter, sealed and directed it, before descending to the drawing-room; -the door was slightly open, and she heard a very clear quiet voice, -which seemed familiar to her, say-- - -"No, I should not have given it up," she stopped a moment, then, -without giving herself time for further cowardice, entered the room, -and met an earnest, enquiring glance from Egerton's dark brown eyes. -Kate had a good deal of self-command, but it had been much tried of -late; she felt her heart stand still for a second, and then throb -violently; instinctively covering her eyes with one hand, she held out -the other, silently, and it was quickly, warmly, yet gently, clasped in -both of Egerton's. - -"I fear we have startled you," said he, calmly, with a certain tone -of deep feeling in his voice, which acted on Kate's nerves like a -restorative. - -"Yes," she replied, tremulously; but recovering herself, and -withdrawing her hand--"I had no idea who the gentleman was, they told -me had come in with Mr. Winter--I am very glad to see you." And she sat -down feeling quite incapable of standing any longer. Egerton placed -himself beside her, and Winter stood opposite, in a state of fume, -against the stupidity of lodging-house servants. - -"I told the thick-headed girl, as plainly as possible, Colonel Egerton, -on purpose to prepare you. I knew the memories--humph pooh," and -Winter stopped abruptly, for Egerton, whose eyes were fixed on Kate's -face, raised his hand significantly as he observed her changing colour. - -And this was their first meeting--not very demonstrative, yet Kate was -satisfied. Winter rattled on, apparently well pleased, but Egerton and -Kate were very silent, the latter particularly so. - -"I was hurrying down Pall Mall, in hopes of catching Mrs. Winter before -she started on any shopping expedition, when suddenly, an iron grasp -on my shoulder arrested my progress. I just looked round, previous to -calling the police, and saw Egerton's face considerably browner than -when last I beheld it--he was not very connected at first." - -"No," interrupted Egerton, "I was breathless--I had just issued from my -club, when I caught a glimpse of your well-remembered figure--to give -chase was my first impulse--better get into a scrape than miss the man -I had been so long looking for, so here I am; and are you quite well, -Miss Vernon? You look--" - -"You must not tell me I am looking ill," said Kate, with something of -her old archness, a soft smile playing round her lips, and dimpling her -cheek, as a sudden gleam of sunshine calls forth a thousand diamond -sparkles from the bosom of a sleeping lake. - -"You do not look well," persisted Egerton, too earnest to be -complimentary; and then, strange to say, there was an awkward -pause--their hearts were too full to speak on any common-place topic, -and they dared not touch upon anything deeper. - -Winter did good service, however, and at last Kate ventured to ask-- - -"Have you been long in England, Captain--I mean Colonel Egerton." - -He smiled, his own bright smile--lip and eyes in unhesitating harmony. - -"Yes--call me Captain Egerton, it reminds me of old times and pleasant -days. I arrived here nearly a month ago--I had been ordered home by -the doctor, at the same time Mary, (my sister, Mrs. Wentworth), wrote -requesting I would return, on account of Egerton's health; besides," he -added, with another smile, "I was home-sick, and restless to learn more -than letters could tell me. I was almost a fortnight at Allerton." - -"So we heard on the rail-road," interrupted Winter; "I mean, that you -had been at Allerton. And so your brother is very ill?" - -Colonel Egerton shook his head. - -"Very painfully affected; and, I fear, will never be much better. They -want me to stay in England; but I can really be of no use to him; and -as soon as I have refreshed myself, I mean to return to India, unless -something very unforeseen occurs." - -"Being his next heir," began Winter. - -"Is no reason why I should waste my life, waiting to step into -my brother's shoes. As soon as I could get away from Allerton, I -started for A----, hoping to find you and Mrs. Winter there. I knew," -turning to Kate, and insensibly softening his tones, "that the Priory -existed no more--at least, for me--but I knew Winter would always be -in communication with you. Imagine my dismay, to find a stranger in -possession of the hospitable house where I had been so well cared -for. Do you know I felt confoundedly cut up. I could learn nothing -satisfactory there, so I came on to Carrington, and put up for a night -with the ---- Hussars--old friends of mine. It was curious, Miss -Vernon, how vividly the place reminded me of that ball. I felt a sort -of certainty that you were near, and that I should meet you somehow. By -the way, I went to hear the famous Doctor M---- preach before starting -for town." - -"I know," said Kate, quietly--"you sat three rows before me." - -Egerton almost started from his seat in profound amazement. - -"How! what! do you mean to say you were in the church, and I did not -see you?" - -"How extraordinary you did not mention this to me," exclaimed Winter. - -"I did not think--that is, I intended--and was always interrupted," -faltered Kate. - -"And why! why did you not speak to me?" cried Egerton, eagerly. - -"I could not, indeed! though I wished it much," said Kate, with a -simple earnestness, at which Egerton's dark, embrowned cheek flushed -with sudden pleasure. He did not pursue the subject then; but said, -abruptly-- - -"I have felt bewildered at finding myself so suddenly talking to my old -friends, or I could not have been so long without enquiring for Mrs. -O'Toole. May I not see my good nurse? You know she is mine, as well as -yours, Miss Vernon." - -"She is quite well; but alas! not with me; she joins us, however, when -we return to A----. Oh! how glad she would be to see you again! she was -so fond of you." - -"Not with you!" - -Colonel Egerton was beginning in tones of no small surprise, when the -door opened, and Mesdames Storey and Winter entered. - -The greeting between Mrs. Winter and Egerton was considerably more -demonstrative than any that had yet occurred; the kind little woman -was evidently touched by the genuine delight evinced by her quondam -patient at seeing her; and Winter smiled to see Colonel Egerton's more -deep happiness take this method of expression; Mrs. Storey simpered and -curtsied and nodded to Kate, and was altogether, as she said, "quite -taken with Colonel Egerton;" and sat on till her friends wished her -far away. The conversation was, therefore, general; and Miss Vernon -unusually silent. - -Egerton felt he could make no enquiries then, so rose to leave, having -paid an unconscionably long visit. - -"I have a letter for nurse," said he to Kate, "which my ignorance of -her whereabouts has prevented my forwarding; if you will allow me, -I will bring it here to-morrow morning, and hear all about her, and -everything. I have so many questions to ask; but I promised to see Sir -J. M---- at the Horse Guards to-day, and must go. I presume you are -visible early?" - -"Can't you join us at dinner, a lodging-house scramble? but, I suppose, -an old campaigner as you are, can rough it," said Winter, with eager -hospitality, that startled his precise wife. - -"With the greatest pleasure," cried Egerton, in his old, gay, frank -manner. "I was just wishing you would ask me." - -Winter and Kate smiled; and Mrs. Storey opened her eyes, astonished at -so cool an admission. - -"_Au revoir_, then," continued Colonel Egerton, taking his hat, and -bowing. "I will bring you the letter, Miss Vernon." - -"Is five o'clock too early?" shouted Winter, after him, as he ran down -stairs. - -"No, not the least." - -"Sharp, five then." - -"Humph, ha," said Winter, rubbing his hands together, as he returned -to the room; "that's a fine fellow--no nonsense about him--though -he nearly knocked me over this morning. I am glad his brother never -married. Fred will make a first-rate member of the Upper House yet." - -"But, my dear John, how you could be so thoughtless as to ask such a -fine gentleman--accustomed to the style he is--to a scrambling dinner -with us, in a couple of hours. I'm sure I do not know where to turn." - -Mrs. Storey looked truly sympathising. - -"Pooh, pooh, my dear, give him a chop and a jam tart; anything--he will -be satisfied, I'll engage; surely you must remember how easily pleased -he was at A----." - -"Easily pleased, Mr. Winter! I am not so sure of that! a much more -fastidious man might be pleased with the table we kept at A----." - -Winter pulled a long face, expressive of contrition for his fault; and -Kate interposed her soothing influence. - -"Colonel Egerton was too glad to see you, and to come to you, to be -_difficile_." - -"Well, Mr. Winter, I must go home before it is quite dark," said Mrs. -Storey. - -"And I will escort you, my dear madam, to the omnibus--where can I -catch Langley?" asked Winter. - -"Oh, at his house; he goes out very little." - -So Mrs. Storey and her cavalier departed, while Mrs. Winter disappeared -to hold deep council with the landlady, and Kate was left alone to -revel in her own thoughts; gaily they careered away over the far -future, yet vaguely and indistinctly. Nurse and Georgy--the Winters -and herself, and Egerton, were to be always happy together in some -universal bond of fellowship; but she did not arrive at probabilities, -they half startled her; she almost shrunk from the whisper of her -heart--"He loves me, he always loved me." There was something too -positive, too bold in such thoughts! And so a thousand, bright, -kaleidoscope visions kept forming themselves round a delightful nucleus -presented by the simple sentence-- - -"Colonel Egerton is to dine here to-day!" - -Long, very long it was, since she had dared to indulge thus in reverie; -and even while she raised her heart in unspoken gratitude to the Giver -of good for her great deliverance, the thought rose to her lips-- - -"If dear grandpapa had but lived, to see a return of so much happiness! -Ah, why was he taken in the midst of such heavy times?" - -These reflections calmed the agitation which made each nerve -tremulous, and she anticipated Egerton's return less anxiously. - -"I long to talk to him of grandpapa; but I am afraid of crying so very -much, it would distress him." - -Here Mrs. Winter entered, quite restored to good humour, as Kate dimly -perceived by the fire-light. - -"The woman of the house was so obliging; and it was so fortunate, the -gentleman in the front parlour had gone out of town for a few days, and -they could dine there; and an excellent pastry-cook at the corner of -the street would supply all deficiencies. And, my dear, it is almost -five o'clock, if you are going to smooth your hair, and wash your hands -before dinner." - -If--of course she intended to do so. - -It was many a long day since she looked in the glass and brushed her -glossy hair so carefully. She was not satisfied--no, she looked so -pale, so unlike her old bright self. She little thought how amply the -brightness was compensated by the pensive sweetness that deepened and -softened the gentle gravity of her face, and the species of languor -that lent such tender grace to her slight form. Never had Egerton -admired her so much--he had left a bright, saucy girl, and found a -lovely woman. - -Winter returned with Langley, whom he had caught, for dinner; and -the little party had scarcely assembled, when Colonel Egerton was -announced; they were sitting by the light of a bright fire, and Miss -Vernon, leaning back quietly on the cushions of the sofa, was amused -by the contrast between Egerton's fine figure and air noble, Winter's -stumpy form, and Langley's awkward length; nor did Fred refrain from -stealing glances at the graceful outline of Kate's black dress, which -threw into strong relief the pure fairness of her throat and hands, a -delicate colour tinged her cheek, and a certain holy look of happiness -deepened the expression of her liquid eyes. - -Egerton handed Mrs. Winter down to dinner, and Kate followed with -Winter. The repast was unimpeachable; but no one took any notice of -its arrangements. Much was said by the gentlemen; but the ladies -were rather silent. Egerton was all polished cordiality. A look of -frank joy, which he cared little to disguise, lighted up his bronzed -countenance and dark brown eyes; there was a degree of decision and -authority in his manner and opinions, that they perhaps wanted before, -as if he had read, and thought, and acted much since last he had -dined with them; and Kate observed that Winter insensibly treated -him with greater respect and less startling abruptness. Langley was -never much impressed with any man; and the trio discussed Spain and -India most agreeably, Colonel Egerton described simply and forcibly -his visit to the cave Temples of Elora; and this led to the Hindoo -Trinity, and the strange, rude, imperfect shadowing of the Christian -doctrines contained in it; and then they rambled on to the universal -ideas prevalent in all Pagan lands, and the German theories on this -subject, and on languages; of the traces of the moors in Spain, and the -Alhambra, &c. And on all these topics Egerton led instead of listening, -as in former times. - -"If I could only persuade Mrs. Winter," said her husband, as she and -Kate rose to leave the room, "to write and publish her experiences -of Spain, the world would learn some startling facts. She used to -endeavour to teach the girls to work, while I was sketching for my -individual gratification. And as she picked up some colloquial Spanish, -she heard strange revelations, beating Borrow's Bible in Spain all to -nothing." - -"My dear, how can you talk so! it was only the Muleteer's sister, poor -girl! and she knew a little English, near Gibraltar, you know." - -"With all the roughing she bore so well abroad," resumed Winter, "the -moment she returned to England, heigh presto! the spell of nicety was -on her. Man may be free the moment his foot touches British ground; -but, Carambo! woman is trammelled forthwith by particularity and -regularity, and no end of arities; she was afraid she should not be -able to give you a sufficiently _recherché_ dinner, Colonel, on so -short--" - -"My dear John, how can you--" - -"Mrs. Winter knew I could not forget all the dainties with which she -used to tempt me, when I was such a troublesome invalid under her care, -and wished to surprise me with them here," said Egerton, with a smile -full of kindly recollection. - -"Never mind, Sue," cried Winter, as she retired; "Spain is a country -too full of splendid colouring to be clean; nor is it necessary -there--_Dormire coi cani per levarsi colle pulci_." - -"Well, my love, I think everything went on very smoothly," said Mrs. -Winter, as she settled herself for her nap before the gentlemen made -their appearance. - -"Very well indeed," returned Kate, vaguely, her eyes gazing far away -into dreamland. - -The gentlemen soon followed them; and once more Kate handed a cup of -tea to Egerton, their eyes met as he took it, and a tear started to -Kate's, as the familiar action brought the memory of her grandfather -vividly before her. - -"I have so much to say to you--so much to enquire of you," said -Egerton, in a low tone, placing himself beside her; "but I must see -you alone; I dare not agitate you with reminiscences so sad before a -stranger, or indeed any third person." - -"Yes, I have much to tell you," returned Miss Vernon, tremulously. - -"It is a great mystery to me, the absence of nurse; I do not half like -it," resumed Egerton. "I have brought you the letter from her son." - -"Thank you; I will forward it to-morrow. She will join me at A----. We -return there in about a fortnight." - -"It was a most extraordinary occurrence," said Egerton, slowly stirring -his cup round and round, "that I should have been in the same church -with you at Carrington, and not know it. Why did you not speak to -me--call to me--shy a prayer-book at my head! anything, rather than let -me miss the good of which I was in search?" - -Kate smiled, and shook her head. - -"What a stupid numskull I was not to translate the instinctive feeling -of your presence correctly, instead of pooh-poohing it away, after -our friend Winter's fashion; however, all's well now. Give my kindest -remembrance to Mrs. O'Toole when you write." - -"Certainly," said Kate, "I shall not fail." - -"Your cousin, Lady Desmond, is in Ireland, so Burton told me; he is a -capital fellow; but Dashwood was away, God knows where; and he was the -only person it appears who had any trace of you. Do you know where he -is?" - -"No, he told me he was going to fish in Ireland when I saw him last." - -"So Lord Effingham is off to St. Petersburgh, Miss Vernon," said -Langley, at this juncture. - -Kate felt that Fred's eye was on her, and coloured deeply, as she -merely bowed in assent. - -"Curious place to winter in," he continued. - -Then Winter made some observations about the freezing of the Neva, and -the Russian costume; and he and Langley talked on for a good while -standing on the hearth-rug, and sipping their tea; but Egerton was -silent, for some time; and Kate did not like to look at him; at last he -asked-- - -"Do you ever sing now?" - -"Oh yes," answered Mrs. Winter for her. "Sing that pretty new song you -got yesterday, my love." - -"No, no," cried Egerton, eagerly, "an old one for me--dare I ask for -'The Serenade,' if it would not distress you. I have so often longed to -hear it again." - -"I will try," said Kate; "but--" - -She went to the piano, and struck the well-remembered arpeggio chords -so long unheard; she strove to steady her voice, as it rose tremulous -with its rich sweetness and deep expression; Egerton leant on the -piano, wrapt in memory and contemplation. Kate proceeded very well to -the end of the first verse; but there, at the sustained note to which -her grandfather had so loved to listen, she faltered, paused, and -covering her face with both her hands, for an instant, hastily left the -room. - -She was thoroughly overcome; and, exhausted by the excitement of the -day, returned no more that evening. - -Colonel Egerton came the next day, and the next, and the next. Mr. and -Mrs. Winter, or Mrs. Storey, or some snuffy picture dealer was always -there, and he was reduced, _malgré lui_, to talk of generalities, this -constraint gave something of coolness and gravity to his manner; he was -often _distrait_; and Kate felt less calm. - -Meanwhile Mrs. O'Toole's letters were filled with the rapturous -expectation of a reunion with her _Darlint_, and could scarce be -induced to wait until the time specified for her return by Winter. - -Kate was re-reading one of her characteristic epistles one morning -after Mr. and Mrs. Winter had departed on some common errand. She had -a slight cold, and was ordered by her kind authoritative _maestro_ to -keep in doors; they had not been gone many minutes when Egerton came -in, carrying a large bouquet of hot-house flowers. - -"I have just met Winter, and his _cara sposa_; they told me you were -on the sick list. How is that?" - -"A cold--oh, nothing; but what beautiful flowers. I have suffered much -from a dearth of flowers." - -"I wrote to my sister, who is at present at Allerton, to send me a -basket full, they have tolerable conservatories there." - -"You are very kind; I will ring for a vase or bowl, or something to put -them in. Mrs. Winter will be delighted with them." - -"Yes, but they are for you." - -The little bustle of arranging the graceful gift proceeded pleasantly. -Egerton lounged on the sofa. Kate stood by the table, now consulting -him as to their arrangement, and touching them with a tender, admiring -care, that showed their appreciation of their rare beauty; gradually, -as the task was accomplished, they glided into talk of former -times; and Egerton spoke with such feeling of the sudden shock her -grandfather's death had been to him, that Kate, unspeakably gratified -by the reverent affection he expressed, was drawn on to give some -account of his last moments, and how the old hound died when relieved -from his watch. She spoke tremblingly, yet with wonderful composure; -Egerton listened in motionless attention. - -"I shall never, never forget the night he died," she continued, -unconsciously playing with a leaf, and still standing by the table. -Egerton had risen, and was leaning against the mantel-piece. "He had -seemed better, that day, and happier, and I sat watching him by the -fire-light as he lay, asleep, as I thought, in his chair, long after -he was gone from me." She shuddered slightly. "I had been dreaming of -better times for him, perhaps a return to the Priory; but it was soon -broken, my dream! and then Georgy was away, and the Winters, and I was, -so alone! I had none, no, not one near me, that I loved, except poor -nurse." - -She stopped to recover herself; Egerton, springing to her side, took -her hand in both his, - -"Kate! long-loved, dearest, you have indeed been sad and weary; give me -the right to be beside you, come sorrow or joy; I cannot bear to think -of your being grieved and alone, while I, who so pined for a glimpse of -you, was far away. Let me hold you to my heart, and shelter you from -the roughness of life, or share its burdens with you. My beautiful one! -be my wife, and come what may, we will bear it with the strength of two -hearts." - -He drew her to him, close, close, and she leaned her hand upon his -shoulder, murmuring, - -"I always wished you to be there, _he_ loved you so much." - -Where was sorrow, or fear, or doubt? "Where the evil that could touch -her now that she had reached the haven where she would be?" vanished -before the genial sunshine of Egerton's love. - -One long, fond, gentle kiss, before she extricated herself from his -embrace, no longer her own, but pledged to be his while God granted -them life, though she had scarce breathed an articulate syllable. - -The daylight was beginning to fade before Winter and his wife returned, -and still they talked of the past, and planned for the future, and -opened their inmost souls to each other; and Kate, the first strange, -bewildering, emotion of finding every shadow of reserve swept from -between herself and Egerton was gradually growing calmer; his voice -stilling her heart to the deep tranquillity of perfect contempt. - -A glance on his entrance told Winter the state of affairs better, -indeed, than Egerton's incoherent explanation. - -We have reached the climax of our story, not much remains to be -told, already its simple annals have spread themselves out too far; -patience, but little remains. - - _To Mrs. O'Toole, Fermoy, Ireland._ - - "The day-dawn has indeed come at last, brightly and softly, dearest - nurse, true friend! Soon, soon we shall meet, and you will have two - nurselings. Oh, I am so strangely happy. The good God has sent us such - joy; for you and I always were joyful or sad together. Ah, I can no - longer speak of myself alone; I have another self, a better, nobler, - stronger self. A true heart to lean upon. The wish you have never - openly expressed will be accomplished, my own nurse. I have promised - to be his wife. Colonel Egerton's, of whom grandpapa was so fond; - he would be proud and glad if he knew it; and dare we say he does - not? I yearn to hear your voice, and that you too should bask in the - sunshine, after such a long sad winter; for he is so fond of you, and - always calls you his nurse. But in a very few days you will be with - me again. We go to A---- on the 30th; be there to meet us. Everything - is as yet very unsettled; but I write to you first, before any one. I - cannot tell you anything clearly now, only you are to be always with - me, and I do not think we shall leave England. - - "Dear nurse, how wildly I have written, my hand is so unsteady, and my - heart beats; but, nurse, you must bend your knees before God, and pray - to Him to be with us now in this great trial of prosperity, even as He - stayed us in our time of adversity. - - Ever your loving child, - - KATE." - -"Who are you writing to, Kate?" asked Egarton, jealously watching her -endeavouring to hide a tear that fell upon the paper as he entered the -room. - -"To nurse, but you must not see it." - -"_Cativa_--I have no such wild ambition, but keep it till to-morrow, I -want to add a postscript." - -"Yes but no later, she will be so proud to hear from you." - -Egerton's talk over pounds shillings and pence with Winter gave that -worthy great satisfaction. "I am not rich," said the young colonel, -"but I have a moderate competence with the prize money that has fallen -to my share, my military appointments and the certainty as to the -future, although it springs, unfortunately, from my poor brother's -state of health; besides, Kate is so differently situated now compared -to what she was when I tore myself away from England. I can never -forget your fatherly kindness to my bride elect." - -"I trust you will not think of taking her to India." - -"I should prefer staying at home now; I dread the climate for her; yes, -in all probability I shall remain at home; it would be a hard trial to -part from you and her cousin; by the way I cannot quite make out that -Lady Desmond," and the two friends proceeded to discuss and elucidate -very near the truth of Kate's well preserved secret. - -"Now then my Kate" said Egerton, looking up from his writing the -next morning and holding out his hand. "Come here, I have a clearer -conscience than you, you may read my postscript; to be sure as it is to -a lady you have a right." - -She took the paper from his hand, and standing by him read as follows, -while he leant his arm on the table and gazed in her face. - - "My dear nurse, Miss Kate will not let me see what she has written, so - I must write for myself." - - "I have felt deeply your truth and fidelity to one very dear to me, - and I can assure you, as long as I have a home to offer you, none - after my wife will be more welcome there than yourself, but as ladies - are changeable, (at least they tell me so), and you might possibly at - some future day choose a house of your own, the enclosed is a rough - draft of a deed now in preparation, securing to you an annuity, which - will I trust, render you tolerably independent for the remainder of - your days. I consider that in doing this I merely act as the executor - of your late lamented master, think that you owe it to him and look - upon me as still your debtor for unlimited care and kindness when I - require it. - - Yours with sincere regard, - - FRED. B. EGERTON. - -We dare not tell how Kate expressed her entire approbation of this -letter; severe ladies may be shocked, and we have a great respect for -them. She was no prude, and Egerton had strong nerves, so no one need -trouble themselves further on the subject. - -All arrangements and projects were however broken up, shortly before -the Winters and their now blooming adopted daughter, left town for -A----. A telegraphic despatch from Allerton announced the sudden return -of Lord Egerton's paralytic seizure, and summoned his brother to -what soon proved to be a death-bed scene. The peer showed symptoms of -satisfaction when his discarded brother took his place by his bed side, -but he was speechless, and after a week's suffering breathed his last. - -Meantime Kate and her kind friends reached their old home, the sense -of happiness tempered the solemn tidings of Lord Egerton's death which -reached them as they left London. - -Kate could not repress a shudder as the shout of "Carrington, -Carrington, change here for Batten Wiggem, Manchester," met her -ear; she looked at Winter and silently raised her eyes to Heaven. - -Mrs. O'Toole had been some days installed at Abbey Gardens previous to -their return, and as Kate caught the first glimpse of her, the white -apron, and the snowy cap, the black gown and the eager, straining look, -the attitude all the same, exactly the same, as the sad day she had bid -her good bye, her heart bounded within her at the contrast. How she -clung to her and kissed her, and smothered her wrinkled cheeks with her -fair soft hands, and would not let her out of her sight for a moment, -and pleased herself by waiting on her. - -"Sure, I could'nt answer yer letther, the way I'd like, core iv my -heart," said Mrs. O'Toole to Kate, when they were alone; "nor the -Captin's, (me Lord's I mane) will ye write wan fur me asthore; he'll -think I have'nt a screed iv gratitude in me afther him settlin a fortin -on me." - -"I will, dear nurse, but he will be here soon, and then you can speak -to him yourself; he must be at Allerton now on account of his poor -brother's death, it was so sudden at last." - -"Well, the Lord, rest his soul! sure it's better for him to be in -happiness in heaven than down here, standin' in the captin's way," -returned nurse, cheerfully. - -"For shame, nurse, you must not speak so." - -"Och, thin, core iv my heart, but ye look well; there's the light iv -joy in your eyes, an' on yer lips again. See what a power if happiness -the Blessed Saviour was storin' up for us, all the time we wor in -sorra. An' many's the time I grumbled becaise things didn't go my way. -Sure, if I'd the pick iv the world, I'd choose the captin (I mane me -Lord) fur a husband fur ye; it's he that has the warm heart, an' the -open hand!--an' what'll ye be, asthore?--a duchess or a countess! - -"Only a viscountess, and even then that seems very strange." - -"A vi-countess; that's something betune thim, anyways." Kate laughed. -"An' whin will me Lord be here?" - -"Not till after his brother's funeral, of course." - -"They'll have a grand berrin," concluded Mrs. O'Toole, meditatively. - -The new peer, as may be anticipated, joined them as soon as it was -possible, and a joyful sight it was to see his greeting with Mrs. -O'Toole, who was the same with the viscount as she had been with -the captain. He stopped to shake hands with her most cordially and -energetically at the foot of the stairs, even though Kate was waiting -for him at the top. - -"Och! many's the time me ould eyes wur wearyin' to see you when we wur -in throuble; many's the time me sweet child wanted ye; but, glory be -to God, you'll be beside her for ever from this out, captin, agra! Me -lord, I mane." - -"I'll never forgive you if you change the title, nurse. I was not -perfectly content till I saw your honest face; but now, indeed, I feel -I am amongst my old friends again." - -"An' sure aint I a brute not to thank you fur the fortin; it's -bewildhered I am entirely; yer a prence, so ye are." - -"Well nurse, never mind; I can't stop now, for you see there's Miss -Kate waiting for me; we'll have a long talk to-morrow," cried Egerton, -springing up the stairs. - -The news of Kate's approaching happiness did more to comfort Lady -Desmond, and soothe her vexed spirit, than whole libraries of sound -reasoning and good advice could have done; nor was it difficult to -prevail on her to join them; and so the interval demanded by business -and etiquette sped away, and long before winter had yielded to the -coming spring, a quiet, happy wedding party assembled at the old -church. Mr. Winter was there, for the first time in his life, perhaps, -in white gloves; Lady Desmond; and the Wentworths, gay, polished, -kind-hearted triflers, all charmed with their new sister; and Burton, -gravely observant, looked on contentedly; and Mrs. Winter rather -nervous at the thoughts of entertaining so goodly a company. - -And Mrs. O'Toole, though the wedding was peculiarly quiet, was -satisfied, perfectly, as she removed the long, graceful veil from her -child's head, and replaced it with a travelling bonnet, ejaculating, -"If mee blessed masther could look down from heaven, it's he that would -be proud an' happy. Sure he sees us this blessed minnit!" - -Our tale is ended, and Kate Vernon merged in "The Viscountess Egerton." - -We may not promise that her future will be all unclouded, but, at -least, she has a true, strong heart--a bold, clear spirit to aid her -through the rugged paths of life; to stand beside her in the storm, and -finally, to glide with her into the calm, still evening of time. - -Lady Desmond is still a widow; she passes much of her time amongst her -hitherto uncared-for tenantry, and her happiest hours are spent in the -pleasant circle collected at Allerton. - -Colonel Dashwood is married to a fair, bright girl, younger by a good -many years than himself, who looks up to him as a perfect Chevalier -Bayard. - -Bruton remains a determined old bachelor. - -The Winters are well, happy, and prosperous, as they deserve to be. - -It was in the height of the high season of 1851, as we endeavoured to -"move round," in obedience to the imperious mandate of the policeman on -duty, at the case containing the celebrated Kooh-i-noor, in the Crystal -Palace, that our attention was attracted by the consequential air of an -elderly female, decidedly _embonpoint_, and well to do in the world, -as evidenced by her substantial black silk dress and bonnet, and rich -scarlet shawl. - -"An', so that's the Kooh-i-noor, is it?" remarked the old lady in -audible accents, whether addressed to an individual companion or to the -crowd generally, we do not pretend to decide. - -"Athen, it's mighty like a lump iv glass hangin' to a lusthre; faith -the ould masther had a dimint he used to wear an his breast at Dungar, -in the good ould times, that this wan, for all it's so big, couldn't -hould a candle to; but it's not every one ud know the differ. It's -kilt entirely I am with the haite; an' mee lady"--and we gradually lost -the words, though we struggled after the retreating figure, till we -saw her respectfully handed, by a tall footman in a handsome livery, -into a coronetted chariot, from whence beamed a lovely, happy face we -remembered well. - -The thread is spun, the web is woven--a parting quotation, and we have -done:-- - -_Saunders's News-Letter_ (we omit the precise date) lately contained -the following paragraph:-- - -"We understand the Dungar property, in the county of ----, so long -the subject of litigation, has been purchased by Viscount Egerton, of -Allerton, under the Incumbered Estates' Court. Lady Egerton is, we -believe, the grand-daughter and heiress-at-law of the late owner, the -well-known and universally respected Colonel D'Arcy Vernon." - -"Ay," said a thick little artist, who had withdrawn his thumb from -his palette to open a newspaper directed to him in a delicate female -hand, as he read this paragraph--"So the wheel goes round, but it is -not every day it brings up, sparkling over the dull surface of life, so -bright and pure a gem as Kate Vernon." - - -THE END. - - -T. C. Newby, Printer, 30, Welbeck Street, Cavendish Square. - - - * * * * * - -Transcriber's Notes: - -Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. - - -Minor punctuation and printer errors repaired. - - -Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully -as possible, including obsolete and variant spellings and other -inconsistencies. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Kate Vernon, Vol. 3 (of 3), by Mrs. Alexander - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KATE VERNON, VOL. 3 (OF 3) *** - -***** This file should be named 53668-8.txt or 53668-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/6/6/53668/ - -Produced by Suzanne Shell, Christopher Wright, and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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 print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. 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