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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.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<p class="ph3">HARRY HIEOVER'S</p> - -<p class="ph1">MOST POPULAR PUBLICATIONS.</p> - - -<p class="ph4">In 1 Vol. demy 8vo. Price 12<i>s.</i></p> - -<p class="ph2">SPORTING FACTS AND SPORTING FANCIES.</p> - -<p class="ph4">BY HARRY HIEOVER,</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<div class="blockquot"> - <p>Author of 'Stable Talk and Table Talk,' 'The Pocket and the Stud,' - 'The Hunting Field,' 'The Proper Condition for All Horses,' &c.</p> -</div> - - - <p>"This work will make a valuable and interesting addition to the sportsman's - library."—<cite>Bell's Life</cite>.</p> - - <p>"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."—<cite>Dispatch.</cite></p> - - <p>"It contains graphic sketches of celebrated sporting characters."—<cite>Sunday - Times.</cite></p> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="ph4">Price 5<i>s.</i> with Plates.</p> - -<p class="ph3">HARRY HIEOVER</p> - -<p class="ph2">ON THE PROPER CONDITION FOR ALL HORSES.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - - <p>"It should be in the hands of all owners of horses."—<cite>Bell's Life.</cite></p> - - <p>"A work which every owner of a horse will do well to consult."—<cite>Morning - Herald.</cite></p> - - <p>"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."—<cite>Sporting Magazine.</cite></p> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="ph4">Price 4<i>s.</i></p> - -<p class="ph2">BIPEDS AND QUADRUPEDS.</p> - -<p class="ph4">BY HARRY HIEOVER.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p>"We recommend this little volume for the humanity towards quadrupeds - it advocates, and the proper treatment of them that it inculcates."—<cite>Bell's - Life.</cite></p> -</div> - -<p class="ph4">Price 5<i>s.</i></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="ph2">THE WORLD AND HOW TO SQUARE IT.</p> - -<p class="ph4">BY HARRY HIEOVER.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p class="ph1">POPULAR NEW WORKS</p> - - -<p class="ph4">In 3 Vols. Price 2<i>l.</i> 2<i>s.</i></p> - -<p class="ph3">THE HISTORY OF THE</p> - -<p class="ph2 gesperrt">PAPAL STATES.</p> - -<p class="ph4">BY J. MILEY, D.D.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p>"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."—<cite>Morning Post.</cite></p> - - <p>"Illustrated by profound learning, deep thought, refined taste, and - great sagacity."—<cite>Dublin Review.</cite></p> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="ph4">In 2 Vols. with Plates, 30<i>s.</i></p> - -<p class="ph2">THE SHRINES AND SEPULCHRES -OF THE OLD & NEW WORLD.</p> - -<p class="ph4">BY DR. MADDEN.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p>"This work displays both extensive reading and extensive research."—<cite>Athenĉum.</cite></p> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="ph4">In 3 Vols. 31<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, Third Edition.</p> - -<p class="ph3">THE</p> - -<p class="ph2">DESPOT OF EASTERN EUROPE.</p> - -<p class="ph4">By the Author of "The Revelations of Russia."</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p>"The author has command of information, as well diplomatic as local - and personal. It is powerfully written."—<cite>Examiner.</cite></p> - - <p>"These volumes should be on the table of every one who hates oppression."—<cite>Observer.</cite></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="break-before"> - <h1>KATE VERNON.</h1> - - <p class="ph2 oldeng mt2">A Tale.</p> - - <p class="ph3"><em>IN THREE VOLUMES.</em></p> - - <p class="ph2">VOL. III.</p> - - <p class="ph3 mt4"> - LONDON:<br /> - THOMAS CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER,</p> - <p class="ph4">30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE.</p> - <p class="ph4">1854.</p> -</div> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="ph2">KATE VERNON.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ph3">NEW SCENES.</p> - - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"Be silent, nurse! do not terrify me with -such strange words—see, he is asleep!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"He has fainted," she exclaimed, looking -wildly round at nurse. "Bring water, and -wine—send for Doctor S——."</p> - -<p>"I will, I will, my own child, only don't -look at me that away."</p> - -<p>Mrs. O'Toole's violent ringing, soon brought -Mrs. Crooks, and the servant.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"Try and get Miss Vernon out of the -room."</p> - -<p>Her quick ear caught his words.</p> - -<p>"Why should I go? I can assist you to -revive him."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"Oh! hush, hush, it is not two hours since<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -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?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"I will go then, and return in a few -minutes," said Kate, retiring.</p> - -<p>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!</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -her frame; at last, turning to those, who pressed -near her, she said, in strangely quiet tones, -almost a whisper, but terribly earnest—</p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -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 tho<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>roughly -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She obeyed all nurse's suggestions with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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, throw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>ing -back her veil, grasped Mrs. O'Toole's -hand; and, after a piercing glance at the -honest, troubled face before her, exclaimed—</p> - -<p>"I am too late!"</p> - -<p>"Not to comfort mee darlint, glory be to -God! Yer come at last, me lady! He said -you would be here this day."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"No, no! me sweet child is here."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -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?"</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"I feel as if guilty of his death," she repeated. -"Why, why, did I delay my return?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, hush, dearest Georgy, hush," whispered -Kate, somewhat calmed, by witnessing -the remorseful emotion of her cousin. "I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -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!"</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, I'm sure; I've not seen him -these two hours."</p> - -<p>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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -lay the old hound, his limbs quivering in the -agonies of death.</p> - -<p>"Och! Cormac! you're not dyin'?"</p> - -<p>The noble dog strove to raise his head in -answer to her voice, but it fell back, and he -was dead.</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>From that day, Kate strove diligently to -keep her self-imposed promise, and gradually -time, the healer, accustomed her to think, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -calm, though unutterably tender sadness, of -the dear and venerated relative she had lost.</p> - -<p>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 <em>own</em> 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.</p> - -<p>It was with a stronger sensation of pleasure -than she had known for many days, that Kate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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.)</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell was sitting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -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?"</p> - -<p>"Who, I?" said Kate, absently, "yes, very -much."</p> - -<p>"Well then, I will go down there to-mor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>row, -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Mr. ——'s carriage," announced a -spruce waiter.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>In less than a fortnight after this conver<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>sation, -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>The stately parterres, the mossy grass, and -the first delicate exquisite green of the trees, -the lovely avenue of horse chesnuts in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>She now gathered courage to write a long -descriptive letter to Mr. and Mrs. Winter, in -return for the truly affectionate missives they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -had written, on hearing, through Langley, of -the Colonel's death. Some other writing, also, -devolved upon her, replies to <em>relations</em>, 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 condescen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>sion, -she might have shown to a pet terrier, -belonging to her respected <em>wealthy</em> kinswoman.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -deal of, at Naples. You have heard of Lord -Effingham?"</p> - -<p>Kate shook her head.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>The day after this unwonted exertion she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Is Lady Desmond at home?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir." And the stranger followed the -servant up the broad stairs. "Who shall I -say, sir?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Lord Effingham."</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Pray do not give Lady Desmond the -trouble of returning," he said, with a degree -of hesitation, marvellously at variance with his -air of <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">un grand seigneur</i>.</p> - -<p>Here a servant entered.</p> - -<p>"Her ladyship is not at home, my lord, I -did not know she had gone out again."</p> - -<p>"I see her returning across the garden," -said Miss Vernon, "she will be here immediately," -and pointing to a chair, she bent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -her head gravely to the visitor, and left the -room.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ph3">LADY DESMOND.</p> - - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -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 -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">souffre douleur</i> for the whole family."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -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!"</p> - -<p>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."</p> - -<p>After young Mrs. Vernon's death, the Colonel -engaged a governess of higher acquirements -than could have been necessary for his baby<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>Kate was a mere plaything—confidante, she -had none—she was too young to find in books, -sufficient companionship; when just as the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -dearth of excitement, and occupation was -most oppressive, Major General Sir Thomas -Desmond, K.C.B., arrived on a visit to Colonel -Vernon.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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. Occu<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>pied -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.</p> - -<p>"It must be getting late, Pat—see, the sun -is behind Craughmore."</p> - -<p>"It is so, miss."</p> - -<p>"Let us cross the Priest's field, and get -into the lawn that way, the mare will take any -of those fences—eh, Pat?"</p> - -<p>"Is it the mare? God bless ye, she'd walk -over them without knowing it, miss."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -party were hastening their return to dinner, -after a capital day's sport.</p> - -<p>"Ha! Colonel," exclaimed Sir Thomas, who -narrowly escaped being overturned. "The -race of Amazons is not yet extinct in the west, -I perceive."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Do not blame Pat, dearest Colonel—of -course he did as I liked; besides, I can ride -every horse in your stable."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Sir Thomas Desmond, my dear Georgy, is -returning thanks that his life was spared, in -that desperate leap of yours."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"You will forgive me?" said she smiling.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>From this time, the General constantly, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -avowedly sought the society of his host's <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">protégée</i>; -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.</p> - -<p>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 <em>Chevalier Bayard</em>, 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.</p> - -<p>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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> -Sir Thomas Desmond, K.C.B., who served with -great distinction at——, &c., &c."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>"I have made up my mind," said Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> -O'Brien, deliberately, as if of her own -thoughts, and deaf to the Colonel—"I will -accept him."</p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>"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;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -I will make him happy, ay, and proud too, -though his lot may be cast amongst the nobles -of the land."</p> - -<p>And drawing her splendid form to its full -height, she glanced proudly at the opposite -mirror.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>And they were married; and Kate was -bridesmaid; the tenantry were feasted; bonfires -blazed, &c., &c.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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 won<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>der -and exaggeration, to the opera boxes and -conversaziones. Rarely he honoured the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">beau-monde</i> -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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -of my late revered uncle's villa last; besides, -had I been undecided, your presence would -have fixed me."</p> - -<p>Lady Desmond smiled.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"I shall certainly make my <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">début</i> in the, to -me, new character of consoler."</p> - -<p>And he bowed ironically.</p> - -<p>"My sweet god-daughter will teach you -not to be satirical—she is so good."</p> - -<p>"Your god-daughter! why you could not -have learned your own catechism when she -was christened."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I was very young, and was only a proxy; -but I have called her my god-child ever since."</p> - -<p>"Well, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">addio</i> Lady Desmond, I will bring -you some flowers to-morrow; I see you have -no conservatory."</p> - -<p>And he departed.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Och thin, Miss Kate, agrah; who do you -think has just rode off, on a horse fit for a -prence?"</p> - -<p>"I am sure I cannot imagine. Oh, Lord -Effingham, I suppose."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"But, nurse, what do you mean? who did -you speak up bold to?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> - -<p>"To the earl there, him that has jist rode -off."</p> - -<p>"Where?" demanded Kate, fearful of some -strange outbreak on the part of Mrs. O'Toole.</p> - -<p>"There, in that banishmint we wor in, at -that onlooky Bayswather, whin he wanted me -to take the note to ye."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"An' did he spake to ye to-day, jewil?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Hush, hush, you must not speak in that -way of our kind, good friend, nurse."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Very likely; but there is the dinner bell."</p> - -<p>Lady Desmond was thoughtful and <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">distrait</i>; -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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>They stood there a few moments in silence, -till Kate, recovering her composure, pressed a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> -kiss upon her cousin's cheek. Lady Desmond -started, and a sudden tremor ran through her -frame.</p> - -<p>"You are cold, dear Georgy? come from -the window."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, no! I wish I was cold and calm! -Ah, Kate, I am not happy! I would fain -change with you!"</p> - -<p>"With me! surely not with one so lonely -and——."</p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>"But, dearest Georgy, you had all this in -your husband!"</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>And she held her with a wild firm pressure -to her heart.</p> - -<p>And Kate, puzzled by this unaccountable -outbreak, returned her embrace, silently praying -to God to direct her beautiful but wayward -kinswoman aright.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ph3">OLD ACQUAINTANCE.</p> - - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"You must act chaperone for me, dear Kate, -but if strangers are so repugnant to you, I will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -tell Lord Effingham, and he shall not come -here any more."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -each day rendered her more at ease, as she observed -his attentions to her cousin.</p> - -<p>The quiet routine of their lives was seldom -interrupted.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Milord, his compliments, is very unhappy -to hear your ladyship is ill, and begs to know -particularly how you are."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"I am inconsolable at hearing of Lady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -Desmond's indisposition," said Lord Effingham, -before Kate could address a word to him. -"How did she catch cold? Has she good -advice!"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Of course I shall make enquiries every -day for the health of my charming friend."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -tone and listless look, with which he usually -spoke, to one of animation and earnestness, -exclaimed—</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>He was evidently annoyed by her candour -and tranquillity.</p> - -<p>"I regret to find you still resent my conduct, -you at least might excuse it."</p> - -<p>Kate smiled.</p> - -<p>"I do not resent it now; since that," she -continued, "I have gone through much af<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>fliction, -I have experienced real grief and sorrow, -such as reduce all petty annoyances to -their proper level; but why revert to what is -past."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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——"</p> - -<p>"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 con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>tinue -her inmate, take my advice, and withhold -the disclosure altogether."</p> - -<p>And he smiled with an expression of insolent -power, that made Kate's heart thrill with -indignation.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"By——," he at length muttered, "I -would hate her if I could; if she was less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -lovely; her supreme disdain of my admiration -was so real, and her indifference! Yet her -cousin is more beautiful, and would have -<em>acted</em> 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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">rencontre</i> to Lady Desmond, she -was indescribably provoked to think there was -any thing like a secret between her and the -proud, bold Earl.</p> - -<p>"Well, dear Kate, how did Lord Effingham -take his sentence of banishment?"</p> - -<p>"He did not take it at all; he said he would -ride over every day, to make enquiries in -person."</p> - -<p>"And did he tell you any news?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"He never tells news! How unlike the -present race of babblings into which our -aristocracy has degenerated."</p> - -<p>"Why, what does he do?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, Kate, he is no favourite with you; I -see his foreign indifference to unmarried women -has prejudiced you."</p> - -<p>"No, indeed, I neither like nor dislike him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -but there is something in his face, and voice, -and manner, I could never trust."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>And Kate perceived, by this sudden change, -that her cousin did not like to pursue the subject.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"How poor dear grandpapa would have delighted -in this place; how Georgy would have -cheered him, and now it is too late!"</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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, -<i lang="it" xml:lang="it">al fresco</i>."</p> - -<p>"Lady Desmond will probably see you on -Monday, my Lord. Mrs. Cranbourne and her -sister were admitted to-day," returned Kate, -with quiet politeness.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Lord Effingham, absently, -"pray Miss Vernon, can you, and will you -give me, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">le mot de l'enigme</i>."</p> - -<p>"I do not understand you."</p> - -<p>"What was the cause of Lady Desmond's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -illness, or rather her sudden fancy for the retirement -of her own chamber?"</p> - -<p>"My cousin, unfortunately, caught cold on -Thursday; she sat near an open window, at -one of the Ancient Concerts, and——."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>Lord Effingham laughed scornfully.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Then you are great friends," said Lord -Effingham, seating himself on the bench beside<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -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?"</p> - -<p>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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tete-à-tete</i>.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -some general enquiries, with an air of kindly -interest.</p> - -<p>"I am staying with Lady Desmond," she -said, her eyes filling with tears, "and -you——."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"I shall be very happy to see you," she -replied; and with another low bow, Colonel -Dashwood joined his companion and walked -away.</p> - -<p>"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 <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">La Vedova -ammalata</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Lord Effingham," said Miss Vernon,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"I shall—may I beg you to leave me."</p> - -<p>"Ha," said Lord Effingham, "you have not -your canine ally to compel me doing so."</p> - -<p>At this moment, all Kate's pride and decision -melted before the memories thus called up;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"I do not know what it was, dearest," returned -Miss Vernon, "so I cannot tell whe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>ther -I ought to mourn over another block -being added to that pavement of which we have -heard so often."</p> - -<p>"Well, perhaps it was needless, but now -we are free from the servants, tell me all that -news over again."</p> - -<p>"Lord Effingham," began Kate.</p> - -<p>"Nay, dear girl, your own friends first."</p> - -<p>"Well then, Colonel Dashwood said he -would call here to-morrow."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> -real cause of your indisposition, and to laugh -at my <em>story</em> of "a cold!""</p> - -<p>"Indeed!" said Lady Desmond, with a -slight start. "What other reason could he -imagine?"</p> - -<p>"I do not know, but—" she paused.</p> - -<p>"Pray go on," said Lady Desmond, impatiently, -"I hate to have things cut short."</p> - -<p>"Really," returned Miss Vernon, "I only -hesitate, because it seemed so impertinent, what -I am about to tell you."</p> - -<p>"Never mind—go on—dispense with preface."</p> - -<p>"Lord Effingham said, or rather by what he -said, seemed to think, it was to avoid him, you -feigned illness!"</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>Lady Desmond thought long and gravely, at -length her brow cleared—a smile parted her -lips—</p> - -<p>"Perhaps I have disentangled this mystery," -she said; "time will tell, at all events, -<i lang="it" xml:lang="it">bella mia</i>, I know the world—Lord Effingham's -world—better than you do. I shall not notice -'the impertinence,' as you deem it."</p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>"Ah, Lord Effingham appears to have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -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?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, and I told I would."</p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>"Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell," announced -the footman; and the privy council was -ended.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -latest, and clearest memory connected with -Colonel Dashwood.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"You remember Egerton, at A——, Miss -Vernon?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, I wished to ask you about him."</p> - -<p>"He has just been Gazetted Lieutenant -Colonel of the —th Lancers, you have heard,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> -of course, he distinguished himself greatly, at -——."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>The Monday specified by Lady Desmond, as -the day on which she would receive Lord -Effingham, was anticipated by Kate with some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -confidence, and detailed all matters of personal -interest, with a minuteness that showed how -welcome was the task of correspondence to -her.</p> - -<p>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.'</p> - -<p>"All this is very natural, and exactly what -I advised you and our dear departed friend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -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 <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">maestro</i>!</p> - -<p>"I see our former acquaintance, Fred Egerton -has been performing prodigies of valour -against those wretched Sikhs—what deplorable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p class="right"> -"Your true friend,<br /> -<br /> -"<span class="smcap">J. Winter</span>." -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"See what Mr. Winter has sent me; a sort -of birthday present before hand," said Kate, -holding up the cheque to nurse.</p> - -<p>"Ah, how much, alanah?"</p> - -<p>"Fifty pounds, nurse."</p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>"Worth so much, that I for one, can never -look upon the outward and visible sign of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> -so much goodness, without respect and affection."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"No, dear nurse," sighed Kate, "I do not -wish to hear them."</p> - -<p>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 calm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>ness, -reminding Kate of the unnatural lull that -preceeds a thunder storm.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Lady Desmond, languidly, -"draw up the blinds, Kate, to the top; let us -have all the light and air we can."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Then you fancy he will come."</p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"What a character! but this must be acting!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -see any emotion; you must not let him think -he has so much power; I dread his influence -over you. <em>He is not good.</em> I always think of -Milton's Satan, when I hear him speak."</p> - -<p>"And what a grand creature Milton's Satan -is," cried Lady Desmond; "but, Kate, let me -speak now."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>Lady Desmond received the gallant Colonel -with more than her usual suavity and grace; -and he, notwithstanding his good nature,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -at the same moment, a vivid flash of lightning -illuminated the apartment, which was -gloomy as night.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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 -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">entré</i>.</p> - -<p>"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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">selon les regles</i>, -"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -other day—and she bristled up most indignantly; -you must tell her I was right, and -you were only fanciful, or—"</p> - -<p>"You hear Lord Effingham, Kate?" said -Lady Desmond, gently.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Lord Effingham, Colonel Dashwood," said -Lady Desmond.</p> - -<p>The gentlemen bowed, and subsided into -their respective seats.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Yes; yet the storm you mention was awfully -grand—and at night, too."</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent12">"'Oh, night,</div> - <div class="verse">And storm and darkness, ye are wondrous strong,</div> - <div class="verse">Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light</div> - <div class="verse">Of a dark eye, in woman!'"</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>Lady Desmond sighed, and looked away towards -Kate, Lord Effingham following the -direction of her eyes with his, smiled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>"No apology, nurse," said Lady Desmond, -good-humouredly.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. O'Toole," cried Colonel Dashwood, -"I hope I am not quite forgotten;" and he -stepped forward to greet her.</p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>"It is raining heavily already, nurse," said -Lady Desmond, with whom Mrs. O'Toole was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -a great favourite; "come in, at once, and you -can speak to Colonel Dashwood."</p> - -<p>"Och, Kurnel, what's the Captin doin'? an' -where is he?"</p> - -<p>"Which Captain?" he returned; "I know -so many."</p> - -<p>"Och, mee own Captin—him that I nursed -through the faver!"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>"Pray," said Lord Effingham, as she passed, -"is your memory always equally good for -every one and everything?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>"Very convenient," replied his lordship, -with a laugh; "good morning."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"By Jove, a thunder-bolt must have fallen," -cried Colonel Dashwood, springing to the -window, as if to look for it.</p> - -<p>Lady Desmond followed him.</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"Would it give you pain if I succeeded?" -she asked, in the same tone.</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Do you answer me in all sincerity?"</p> - -<p>"In all sincerity, I do."</p> - -<p>"Then I am satisfied."</p> - -<p>"Then we are friends—at least, not foes."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> - -<p>Kate bent her head, and said, frankly—</p> - -<p>"I wish to <em>know</em> you."</p> - -<p>Lord Effingham could only reply by a look -of surprise, when Colonel Dashwood approached -to take his leave. The Earl bowed formally -to him.</p> - -<p>"I suppose I must not ask you to stay for -dinner," said Lady Desmond. "It would not -be <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">comme il faut</i> for recluses such as Kate and -myself to have so gay a guest as Lord Effingham!"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"We shall be most happy to make your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -aunt's acquaintance," returned Lady Desmond.</p> - -<p>The Earl bowed, and departed.</p> - -<p>"I am weary, Kate—my head aches—I -cannot speak to you to-day—some other time—I -will go and lie down."</p> - -<p>"As you like, dear Georgy."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ph3">REVELATIONS.</p> - - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -with a quiet, unremitting attention, obvious -enough to herself, though scarcely noticeable, -save to a very keen observer.</p> - -<p>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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">habitué</i> 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.</p> - -<p>"How do you like your new acquaintance?" -asked Kate, the morning after Mrs. Meredyth's -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">soirée</i>.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -are <em>very</em> 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."</p> - -<p>"Burton!" repeated Kate; "I remember—"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>Kate sighed.</p> - -<p>"Was Lord Effingham there?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"If the Miss Meredyths are constantly en<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>gaged -in devouring dragoons, and worshipping -Lord Effingham, they must be busy indeed," -said Kate.</p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>"No, no," interrupted Lady Desmond, in -her turn. "Dear love, you shall not be teased, -only I think it would do you good."</p> - -<p>And Kate saw the point was decided against -her.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -cannot go there yet; if you have no engagement -next week."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, indeed, he is."</p> - -<p>"Do not look so grave about it," said Lady -Desmond, laughing; "let us go to the drawing-room—my -desk is there."</p> - -<p>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 -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">soirée</i>, 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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> - -<p>Nurse strove to cheer her up.</p> - -<p>"Sure, it'll do ye good, jewil, an' plaise mee -lady, so come now, smile, for yer poor ould -nurse."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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 lis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>tened -patiently to the reiterated assurances -of their desire to make her acquaintance.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was with evident relief that she heard -Lady Desmond enter, saying—</p> - -<p>"If you will accept me as a partner, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">faute -de mieux</i>, 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—"</p> - -<p>"You are very good, Lady Desmond; only -it is too bad to ask you to play whist at your -age."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">prie dieu</i> chair, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -thinking of Fred Egerton, when Lord Effingham -said, gently, and close to her—</p> - -<p>"I thought I should find you here."</p> - -<p>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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tete-à-tete causerie</i> -with him.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Not yet, if you please, Miss Vernon," returned -Lord Effingham, looking fixedly at her, -"I so seldom have an opportunity of saying a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>He uttered these with an earnest softness -that surprised Miss Vernon, so complete was -the transformation it created in his look and -manner.</p> - -<p>"I never accused you, even in thought, of -such cruelty," she returned, anxious to relieve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -his evident anxiety, "so say no more about it, -I entreat."</p> - -<p>"But the gesture of repugnance, with which -you turned from me, I cannot forget it."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>Lord Effingham's dark cheek flushed for an -instant, he bit his lips.</p> - -<p>"Yet you say you forgive me."</p> - -<p>"And I do," she returned, "I could not -resent an unintentional offence."</p> - -<p>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."</p> - -<p>He held out his thin, nervous, resolute looking -hand, with a look of entreaty and an expressive—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Then if——."</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"And on this hand I renounce my evil -ways."</p> - -<p>She withdrew her hand quickly, but before -she could make any reply, Lord Effingham -said—</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"Ah, I was then very happy!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i>, with her cousin's lover.</p> - -<p>"No, I came here to ask you where she was, -<em>remember</em>!"</p> - -<p>"Why, am I to remember? do you wish me -to tell her?"</p> - -<p>"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 un<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>wonted -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.</p> - -<p>"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 <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">al-fresco</i> -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.</p> - -<p>Kate listened intently, fancying she had got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> -turned just as Colonel Dashwood, entering -said—</p> - -<p>"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 -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i>.</p> - -<p>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 -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">partie quarré</i> 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.</p> - -<p>"Some one said you had arrived, Lord -Effingham," she said.</p> - -<p>"I could not see you in the next room, -and came here to look for you," he replied,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -smiling. "But the awful intelligence that you -were playing whist with my aunt rendered me -incapable of further exertion. Is that sacrifice -accomplished?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I have done my duty."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>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."</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -his old friends, though I do not think he seems -inclined to return to them."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Good night," and soon after the party -broke up.</p> - -<p>Lord Effingham drove home by moonlight; -but his thoughts were too darkly chaotic for us -to fathom.</p> - -<p>The Miss Meredyths, in council over their -"<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">toilettes de nuit</i>," 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.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>"I have just returned from a tranquil little -Arcadian evening party at Lady Desmond's, -where I was introduced to your old acquaint<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>ance, -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."</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"Are you awake? Oh! you have not gone -to bed."</p> - -<p>"Dear Georgy!" exclaimed Miss Vernon, -rising to meet her, "I hope you did not think -me rude for running away so selfishly, but—"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>There was a pause for some moments; and -then, Lady Desmond, drawing Kate closer to -the window, asked—</p> - -<p>"Are you sleepy, love?"</p> - -<p>"No, dear Georgy, not in the least."</p> - -<p>"Then I will resume my revelations. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -have not felt in the mood to do so before, and -you were wise and kind not to urge me."</p> - -<p>"Go on then, dearest," said Kate, "I long -to hear your story."</p> - -<p>"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, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">ennuye'd</i>. In -this happy and commendable frame of mind, I -dragged myself listlessly to a birthday dinner -at the English Ambassador's; and accident<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -placed me next a gentleman, so quietly <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">distingué</i>, -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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -have that passage wiped away from my existence.</p> - -<p>"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 <em>jargon</em> 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 Effing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>ham, -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."</p> - -<p>Lady Desmond's eyes dilated, and Kate felt -her own veins thrill with the contagious passion -that inspired her cousin's words.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Whether the novelty of my seeming indifference—for -so far, I acted bravely, Kate—was -not yet '<i lang="it" xml:lang="it">fletri</i>,' 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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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 ex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>perience -is all at fault; what say the instincts -of your fresh heart?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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 <em>will</em> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Do not ask me, I cannot; but is not that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -two o'clock—to bed—to bed, Kate, how could -I have kept you up so late. Good night."</p> - -<p>"God bless you, and give you peace, dear -Georgy—good night."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ph3">AN ECLAIRCISSEMENT.</p> - - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Storey has much pleasure in accepting -my polite invitation. <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Cela va sans dire</i>; -write, Kate dear, and say I will send the car<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>riage -to meet her at Kingston. Mr. Storey is -engaged till six o'clock, but will come down -for her, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tant mieux</i>."</p> - -<p>Kate felt her cousin's civility to her friend -as the most delicate kindness, and thanked her -with an eloquent glance.</p> - -<p>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 <em>be</em>, and not merely to <em>seem</em>, careless of -him, she would bind him to her—there is -something so irresistible in the evidence of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -truth. But how foolish—how worthless it all -is—they are both too prosperous to love in -earnest!"</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"In climes full of sunshine, though splendid their dyes,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">But faint are the odours, the flowers shed about,</div> - <div class="verse">'Tis the mist, and the clouds of our own weeping skies,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">That draw their full spirit of fragrancy out.</div> - <div class="verse">So the wild glow of passion, may kindle from mirth;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">But 'tis only in grief, true affection appears—</div> - <div class="verse">To the magic of smiles, it may first owe its birth,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">But the soul of its sweetness is drawn out by tears."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> -'Ampton Court is the best in world; and how -is Lady Desmond, &c., &c."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"By all means, Colonel Dashwood," cried -Lady Desmond, who dreaded the unoccupied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> -afternoon, "Mrs. Storey would, I am sure, like -it."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> -some unusual specimen in the Zoological Gardens.</p> - -<p>Lady Desmond immediately presented him -to her, with the same easy politeness she would -have shown towards a duchess, and he, bowing -profoundly, observed—</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>Lady Desmond, and Mrs. Storey, escorted -by Colonel Dashwood, walked first, Lady Elizabeth -took Kate's arm, and Lord Effingham -sauntered by her side.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Pray," said Lord Effingham, as he and -Kate continued to walk, side by side, "where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -did Lady Desmond pick up that curious specimen -of the genus woman?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Fairly hit, and deserved, I confess; yet I -had hoped you were magnanimous enough to -have buried that egregious mistake in oblivion."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>He bit his lips in silence for a moment, and -then, with a smile of unusual frankness, -said—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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 '<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">vaut riens</i>,' like yourself.' Eh, Miss -Vernon?"</p> - -<p>"That is rather too strong," said Kate, -laughing.</p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"I have just seen Lady Elizabeth, Miss -Vernon, and I ran after you to hear what all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -this arrangement about the band is. Ah, how -do you do, Effingham?"</p> - -<p>And the two Miss Meredyths were incorporated -in their party.</p> - -<p>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, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pro tem.</i> hushed every doubt, and -enabled her to bear up heroically under the -rampant agreeability of poor Mr. Storey at -dinner.</p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> - -<p>"What are you talking about?" asked -Kate.</p> - -<p>"Lord Effingham to be sure; and—"</p> - -<p>"How can you imagine such nonsense, dear -Mrs. Storey," cried Kate, "it is too absurd, -for—"</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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 Dash<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>wood -was unmistakeably "<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">epris</i>" 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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Kate," cried Lady Desmond, almost -angrily, "how can you accuse me of such -deceitful conduct? Colonel Dashwood is a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>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."</p> - -<p>"I do not condemn you, dearest; I only -wish to see you happy," said Kate, anxiously.</p> - -<p>"Indeed I believe you, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">cara miâ</i>," said -Lady Desmond, relaxing from the air of -hauteur with which she had last spoken. "Let -us, however, drop the disagreeable subject."</p> - -<p>And Kate felt she had been treading on forbidden -ground.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"How terrible to be thus dependent for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -happiness on the smiles or frowns of a cold-hearted -man. Ah! if my own beloved grandpapa -was alive, she would listen to him."</p> - -<p>And at that remembrance, her thoughts took -a different direction, and dwelt long and sadly -on the kind and venerated old man.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>And his face, and figure, and voice returned -to her memory at her spirits' call, and she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -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—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"Memory may mock thee with the tones</div> - <div class="verse indent2">So well-known and so dear—</div> - <div class="verse">'Tis but an echo of the past,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">That cheats the longing ear;</div> - <div class="verse">And thou must strive, and think, and hope,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And hush each trembling sigh,</div> - <div class="verse">And struggle onward in the way</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Thy destined course doth lie."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Nothing, dear nurse. I was only thinking," -returned Kate, drying her eyes, and -endeavoring to smile; "is it time to dress?"</p> - -<p>"Nearly, asthore!"</p> - -<p>"I wonder Mr. Winter has not written; my -last letter remains unanswered," observed Kate, -after a silence of some minutes.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Are they?" asked Kate, smiling.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Really, nurse, you are so severe this -evening, I must run away from you."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -the party. The evening was cold for July, -and a small bright wood fire was most acceptable.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>Little dreaming of such forebodings, Kate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon Georgy," she said, -quickly, "I really did not hear what you -said."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Oh, shame, shame, to sully the real beauty -of the fancy by so base a construction!" returned -Kate.</p> - -<p>"Kate worships Burns," said Lady Desmond, -"she has a print of 'John Anderson,' opposite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -her bed, that her eyes may light upon it on -their first opening in the morning."</p> - -<p>"It is a sweet ballad, I think, and has an -honesty about it, I like;" observed Dashwood.</p> - -<p>"You are right, Colonel Dashwood," said -Kate.</p> - -<p>"Ah," said Lady Desmond, "you have -ruined yourself with Kate, Lord Effingham."</p> - -<p>"I hope not; but Miss Vernon must grant -Byron's description to be perfect," he replied.</p> - -<p>"Yes, but his is the description of 'Woman's -Love,' added Lady Desmond, "no man ever -felt the tenderness—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">'Unmoved by absence, firm in every clime,</div> - <div class="verse">And still, oh, more than all, untired by time.'</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>which he ascribes to the Corsair."</p> - -<p>"And very few women either, Lady Desmond," -said the Colonel.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">'Which, nor defeated hope, nor baffled wile,</div> - <div class="verse">Could render sullen, were she near to smile,</div> - <div class="verse">Nor anger fire, nor sickness fret to vent,</div> - <div class="verse">On her, one murmur of his discontent,</div> - <div class="verse">Which still with joy could meet, with calmness part,</div> - <div class="verse">Lest that his look of grief, should reach her heart.'"</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>Lord Effingham raised himself from his recumbent -position, with a sudden gleam of light -in his deep-set eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Then what description of man do you -think likely to feel such love?" asked Lady -Desmond.</p> - -<p>"One whom we both knew and loved, might -have felt thus, Georgy, and he, indeed, <em>was</em> a -good man."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I admire Conrad, I confess," replied -Lady Desmond.</p> - -<p>"I do not think hatred is ever grand," said -Kate, rather timidly.</p> - -<p>"But it is very natural, sometimes, Miss -Vernon," observed Dashwood.</p> - -<p>"Miss Vernon would have us turn first one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -cheek and then the other to be smitten," said -Lord Effingham.</p> - -<p>"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</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">'Hope withering fled, and mercy sighed farewell!'"</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>"Bravo, Miss Vernon, you have converted -me," cried the Colonel.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Lady Desmond, "I believe you -are right, Kate."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You demand perfection," observed the -Earl, gloomily.</p> - -<p>"I fear," said Miss Vernon, half ashamed -of her enthusiasm, "I have talked a great -deal too much."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"I rather like Longfellow; and Kate, I -believe, considers him the first of poets," said -Lady Desmond.</p> - -<p>"Not exactly," replied Miss Vernon.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> -nature of the art will admit," rejoined the -Earl.</p> - -<p>"It is the confoundedly democratic tone of -society; none but mechanics have money to -buy pictures now," said Colonel Dashwood.</p> - -<p>"It is the craving for novelty so prevalent -in the present day," said Lady Desmond.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Winter is Miss Vernon's mentor, you -must know," observed Lady Desmond.</p> - -<p>"A capital fellow, he was most kind to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -Fred Egerton, so hospitable and droll," said the -Colonel.</p> - -<p>Further conversation was interrupted by the -breaking up of the whist tables, and the subsequent -departure of the guests.</p> - -<p>"Can you take me into town with you to-morrow?" -asked Lady Elizabeth of Lady Desmond.</p> - -<p>"Do you know whether Mrs. Meredyth returns -from —— to-morrow?"</p> - -<p>"They do not come back till next week."</p> - -<p>"I am sorry for it; I wished to ask one of -the girls to stay with Miss Vernon, she will be -all alone."</p> - -<p>"How long do you remain in town?" asked -Lord Effingham, carelessly.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, Miss Vernon, if you are inconsolable -for the want of my cousin's society, I will -send an express to recall them."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I do not mind in the least," said Kate, -hastily, "that is, of course—"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>And after a few more remarks the party -separated.</p> - -<p>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 prophet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>ess; -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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -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 <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">sostenuto</i>, 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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"But my cousin is not yet returned," said -Kate, with a smile.</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"I have not felt inclined to hear my own -voice."</p> - -<p>"And I," interrupted Lord Effingham, -"would never desire to hear any other! -speaking or singing, it is ever music to me!"</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>"No, it is no dream, Miss Vernon," said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> -Lord Effingham, recalled, by her evident alarm, -from his passionate outburst.</p> - -<p>She uncovered her eyes, and looking steadily -at him, exclaimed—</p> - -<p>"How could you act with such dissimulation? -Why have you so deceived us?"</p> - -<p>"I have not deceived you; nor am I answerable -for the self-deception of others; but -this is no answer."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"Think over the past few months, and say -honestly has there been a trace of the lover -discoverable in my manner towards your cousin;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -except by eyes prompted to find out what did -not exist."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Kate, deliberately drawing the -hand he had seized, quickly from his grasp,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -"I cannot love you, for I cannot trust you; -you think you love <em>me</em>, 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."</p> - -<p>"Ha," said he, quickly, and sullenly, "but -you do, you love another."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"I <em>will</em> 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?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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—."</p> - -<p>"There can be no necessity to inform your -cousin of what has passed. Let me come here -as before, and endeavour to——."</p> - -<p>"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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">hauteur</i>.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -sight before Kate could draw the long breath -of relief with which she hailed his departure.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> -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—</p> - -<p>"I had no idea you had returned, dear -Georgy."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -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?"</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"I will leave you," said Kate, with mournful -sweetness, "but I leave you this solemn assurance, -that however you may misjudge me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -I would rather die than wed a man I dread so -much, and love so little, as Lord Effingham."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ph3">ARRANGEMENTS.</p> - - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Unhappy Georgy," she exclaimed, "not -content with the real injury and mortification<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -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?"</p> - -<p>Then rose up, in formidable array, the -gossip of servants, and worse, <em>dear friends</em>, 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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">coterie</i>, 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 <em>for -ever</em>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>As she opened her desk, the recollection of -the happy letter she had that morning despatched -to Winter flashed across her mind.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> -and ceased only when they had exhausted the -power to express such emotion.</p> - -<p>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:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"Is that Louise? I have a dreadful headache, -and am lying down—I cannot be disturbed."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en -train</i> for an interview with her cousin; her -natural fortitude, of which she possessed so -much, began to rise out of the terrible wreck of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"Miladi's love, and she is not at all well; -she wish to see <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mademoiselle sur l'instant</i>."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>"But you have it," answered Kate, in accents -of the softest, deepest tenderness.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> -yet prevail on you to overcome that repugnance -which—pah! repugnance to <em>him</em>! 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."</p> - -<p>"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 <em>know</em><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> -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—"</p> - -<p>"I will do as you desire; but, Kate, you -must allow me——"</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"She shall come with me—she shall stay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>"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 -<em>her</em>."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Oh, impossible," cried Kate, in genuine -anxiety that her cousin should not overtask her -strength.</p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -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; <em>if</em> you have deceived me, God forgive -you, if not, bear with me, pardon me."</p> - -<p>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. <em>You</em> -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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>The next evening did indeed display the -wonderful strength which pride can lend a mor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>tified -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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>"I did not know I was so famous," replied -Kate, absently.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>Kate, whose attention was fixed upon the -opening door answered by a smile so palpably -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">distrait</i>, 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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">roué</i> Effingham's coronetted -carriage. She does not think so at present -however, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">ainsi va le monde</i>."</p> - -<p>Here the song ended, and Miss Vernon was -called on to play; she thought sadly of her -yesterday's practice and its unhappy termina<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>tion, -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.</p> - -<p>"Pray Lady Desmond," she heard Mrs. -Meredyth ask, "can you give me any account -of my nephew Effingham; will he be here this -evening?"</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"I am told, Lord Effingham started this -morning for the Isle of Wight," said Colonel -Dashwood with a gravity unusual for him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -"Hauton was over at Richmond and heard it -there, something about his new yacht I believe, -they said he will return next week."</p> - -<p>"<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Figurez vous</i>," cried the second Miss Meredyth -whose style was foreign and fantastic, -"my cousin's dismay when he returns and finds -Lady Desmond flown."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps it will be no great surprise to him," -said Colonel Dashwood in a low voice to Kate.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I am sure it will," she replied.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -she stood silent and dejected by the piano.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Have you written to Mrs. Storey?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Have you spoken to nurse?"</p> - -<p>"No; I thought it best to defer that until -I got an answer."</p> - -<p>"As you choose."</p> - -<p>She rose slowly, and walked to the door, -then turning, said—</p> - -<p>"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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> -then again pausing. "You look wearied, -Kate, would you like nurse to sleep in your -room?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Solitude is best for both, I believe."</p> - -<p>And she left the room gloomily, darkly.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Is it very late, nurse?" she asked, on -opening her eyes the following morning, and -seeing her faithful friend standing by the bed-side.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> -little taste iv toast an' a cup iv tay quite an' -aisy up here?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, thank you, nurse, I should like it -very much. I will ring presently."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"There, ait a bit, jewil; an' tell me what's -the manin' iv this scrimmige iv movin' all iv a -suddin'?"</p> - -<p>"I thought you were aware that Lady Desmond -intended going to Ireland when we left -this?"</p> - -<p>"To be sure, I did—but sure, isn't it mighty -suddint? an' are we to be off body an' bones -on Thursday next?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, nurse, I believe so."</p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"But Mrs. Storey has not room, I fear," -said Kate, falteringly.</p> - -<p>"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 Bays<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>wather -to stop in; what would ye do widout -me?"</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"There now, hush, darlint; tell me what -it vexes ye?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> - -<p>Mrs. O'Toole seemed plunged in thought, -and rolled her arms in her apron, a favourite -attitude with her, indicative of deep reflection.</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>This question was put with a concentration -of anxiety and curiosity which might have -raised a smile to the lips of a casual observer,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>She hid her face on nurse's shoulder.</p> - -<p>"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 Mis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>ther -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."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"An' why do ye ask me to lave ye?"</p> - -<p>"It must be so," she returned, with more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> -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?"</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> -keep the price if mee journey by me, and the -wind iv a word will bring me to ye any day—remimber -that!"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>This last week at Hampton Court was one -of unmixed suffering to Kate. Lady Des<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>mond -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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 pre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>sence; -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—</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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 for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>give -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."</p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>Kate sighed to see how implacable were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> -the suspicions entertained by Lady Desmond; -and the rest of the journey was performed in -almost unbroken and melancholy silence.</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Write! Ah, yes, it will be my only com<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>fort -until we meet—for we must—we shall meet -soon again."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"There's no use talking any more darlin, -you must go to yer bed."</p> - -<p>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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> -which heaved slightly with each regular softly -drawn breath, the rosy lips apart, while</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"On her snowy lids, whose texture fine</div> - <div class="verse">Scarce hides the dark blue orbs beneath,</div> - <div class="verse">The baby sleep—lies pillowed."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> -with the warm heart an' the strong arm to -hold her up through this weary world."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"There is a prescience given to grief,</div> - <div class="verse">Which joy may never know,</div> - <div class="verse">A hope of future good, to cheer,</div> - <div class="verse">The ruggedness of woe!</div> - <div class="verse">It is the soul's deep whisper heard</div> - <div class="verse">When earth's rude tumult sleeps,</div> - <div class="verse">A moment hushed, when pain or grief,</div> - <div class="verse">Across the spirit sweeps.</div> - <div class="verse">Then through the gloom of doubt and dread,</div> - <div class="verse">An angel voice we hear,</div> - <div class="verse">Which speaks its inborn happiness,</div> - <div class="verse">Undimmed by grief or fear."</div> -</div></div></div> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ph3">TERRA INCOGNITA.</p> - - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"What is it, agra?"</p> - -<p>"Why, that cheque Mr. Winter sent me—Roberts -got me the money for it."</p> - -<p>"Misther Roberts is a knowledgeable man."</p> - -<p>"But, nurse, this portion of it is for you."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>There was something so urgent in Miss -Vernon's tones, that nurse felt herself compelled -to obey, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">malgré lui</i>.</p> - -<p>"Sure I'll keep them fur ye."</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -thing. One kiss before I go down. How I -wish Georgy would let you come with me to -Bayswater, and stay at home herself."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>He was still at Cowes, and the <cite>Morning Post</cite> -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.</p> - -<p>"That does not look like disappointment,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -thought Lady Desmond, as she read, "time, -and time only can satisfy me of the truth."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>Nurse made her appearance as the cousins -descended to the carriage.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"You may trust nurse safely to me," replied -her cousin; and they entered the carriage.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"I suppose Mrs. Storey will not expect me -to go in. I am in no humour for her gossip."</p> - -<p>"Of course you need not if you do not like -it; but—"</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>Miss Vernon's eyes filled with tears; yet -they were not unhappy tears. She was thank<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>ful -to bid her cousin adieu in this mood—for -Kate set a great value on last impressions.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"Thank you, no," said Lady Desmond. -"We have lunched; and I only gave myself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Now that I have installed Kate in the -bosom of your family, Mrs. Storey, I must say -good-bye," said Lady Desmond, rising.</p> - -<p>Kate put down little Willie, and stood up -with a beating heart.</p> - -<p>"You will let me know immediately how -you get over, and make nurse write—give her -my fond love, Georgy."</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> -before Kate could realise that she was really -going.</p> - -<p>Miss Vernon turned from the window with -a choking sensation in her throat; the time -was indeed come when she must struggle on -alone.</p> - -<p>"So you are very glad to see Miss Vernon -again, Willie?" asked the proud mama, -stroking his curls.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Not more glad than I am to see Willie."</p> - -<p>She sat down, and took him into her lap.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"You must not change your hours for me," -returned Kate, "I know you generally dine -with the children, and I like dining early."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"I am very glad to hear it," said Kate, -gratified at this cordiality.</p> - -<p>"And I expect to hear lots of news," resumed -Mrs. Storey, significantly.</p> - -<p>"Indeed, I have none to tell," said Kate.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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."</p> - -<p>And Miss Vernon felt a sense of relief in -hearing these natural, simple details, which she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Cela va sans dire</i>," interrupted Kate, -smiling.</p> - -<p>"But," resumed Mrs. Storey, "what is the -reason his lordship is gone to the Isle of -Wight?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"I have to thank you for sending me Mr. -Winter's letters so promptly," said Kate, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -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?"</p> - -<p>Langley coloured.</p> - -<p>"I do not know Lady Desmond," he said, -"and you were all too fine and gay for an -obscure artist."</p> - -<p>"Gay," repeated Kate, looking at him reproachfully.</p> - -<p>"Well, too fine; I should not have felt at -home there."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ah! Mr. Langley," said Kate, with a -pensive smile, "you feel guilty, or you would -not hesitate so much."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"My dear William," cried his sister, raising -her hands and eyes to heaven, "what <em>will</em> 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?"</p> - -<p>"I dare say her ladyship is aware that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> -such an entomological variety exists," returned -Langley, drily.</p> - -<p>"Have you been very busy this summer," -asked Kate, changing the subject in compassion -to her hostess.</p> - -<p>"Yes, no—that is, I have been busily idle."</p> - -<p>"Sketching, and not finishing," suggested -Miss Vernon. "That was what Mr. Winter -used to call busy idleness."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"I suppose you used to visit the pictures at -Hampton Court frequently?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yet not as often as I intended—something -always happened to interfere with our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Your pictures are certainly very like," said -Miss Vernon politely.</p> - -<p>"But the most unmitigated daubs," remarked -Langley.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> -much good of him—has he not been abroad for -a long time?"</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"He was for some time in Italy—my cousin -knew him there," replied Kate.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Hum," said Langley, gravely. "Then -it was you, Charlotte, that kept his lordship on -his P's and Q's.</p> - -<p>"Now, Miss Vernon, may we ask you for a -little music?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Well, I dare say you feel low at parting -with Lady Desmond," said Mrs. Storey.</p> - -<p>"And nurse," added Kate.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> -her hostess before the one o'clock dinner, until -which time she pursued her practising or her -reading, her work or her thoughts uninterruptedly.</p> - -<p>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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">séjour</i> at "Raby -Villas"—the euphonious appellation of Mr. -Storey's abode.</p> - -<p>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 -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">crême de la crême</i>—than when she walked -almost daily over to Brompton, with no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> -attendant save a great dog, and received three -and sixpence a lesson for music.</p> - -<p>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:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - - <p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Kate</span>,</p> - - <p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> - aching. You shall hear from me when I reach - Castle Desmond,"</p> - - <p class="right"> - "Yours miserably,<br /> - <br /> - "G. D." - </p> -</div> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p> - "<i>To Miss Vernon at Mr. Storey's,<br /> - Bayswater.</i> - </p> - - <p>"Mee own blessed child," it began, "do'nt - let on a word of this to mortial man; you will be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> - 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> - 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.</p> - - <p class="right"> - "Your own loving and respectful nurse,<br /> - <br /> - "<span class="smcap">Nelly O'Toole</span>." - </p> -</div> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Do you remember grandpapa" oppressed -with the silent anguish of her own heart.</p> - -<p>"I think I do" returned Willie, "He had -such beautiful white hair, and sugar plums -always in his pocket."</p> - -<p>Kate smiled, though her tears fell upon the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -little hand that lay in hers, as she recognised -this picture.</p> - -<p>"Why do you cry, dear Kate?" asked Willie -who was a loving creature, "you are never -naughty."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center"> -SACRED<br /> -TO THE MEMORY OF<br /> -COLONEL D'ARCY VERNON,<br /> -OF DUNGAR,<br /> -JUST, GENEROUS, BRAVE, AND TRUE.<br /> -THIS STONE IS ERECTED BY A MOURNING RELATIVE,<br /> -ONE OF THE MANY WHO OWE HIM AN<br /> -UNREQUITABLE DEBT OF GRATITUDE. -</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>-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.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Indeed," said Kate, then suddenly recollecting -herself, "I dare say it is Colonel Dashwood."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, my dear, I will go and take off my -bonnet, and, by that time, you will have -finished your secrets."</p> - -<p>"I am sure Colonel Dashwood never had a -secret in his life," said Kate, laughing.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"I am sorry you will just miss Georgina," -observed Miss Vernon. "She has either left -Dublin for Castle Desmond, or will to-morrow."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"It was pure fancy on Lord Effingham's -part," returned Kate, "he is quite ignorant of -her movements."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p> - -<p>"How absurd," cried Kate, coloring, "there -never was the least probability of such a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">finale</i> -to their acquaintance."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"I do not wish to see Lord Effingham," said -Kate, gravely.</p> - -<p>The Colonel raised his eye-brows, and smiled.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> -the most extended ramifications of civilisation -in your splendid country."</p> - -<p>The entrance of Mrs. Storey cut short his -enquiries.</p> - -<p>"Colonel Dashwood, Mrs. Storey," said Kate, -"you remember Colonel Dashwood perhaps."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Oh, indeed! I did not know you were -Irish."</p> - -<p>"Nor am I; but I like good fishing, and -plenty of fun, and both are to be had in Paddy's -land."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I fear you will not find much of the last -now," said Kate.</p> - -<p>"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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">air -distingué</i> would astonish the Bayswater world.</p> - -<p>"You had better stay," suggested Kate.</p> - -<p>"Ah! unfortunately, it is not in my -power."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span></p> - -<p>Kate could not refrain from a smile at the -amazement depicted on Mrs. Storey's countenance -at this sally.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>Kate silently reclined her head, and after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, Miss Vernon," said he, pressing -her hand kindly; "thanks for your <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">carte du -pays</i>; take care of yourself, for I cannot give -a very flourishing account of you to Lady Desmond; -there is more of the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">beauté fragile</i> in -your appearance, than I like to see. When do -you join your cousin?"</p> - -<p>"Oh do not talk of that, Colonel Dashwood," -interrupted Mrs. Storey. "We cannot -part with Miss Vernon for a long time to -come."</p> - -<p>Kate only smiled.</p> - -<p>"I wish you all success in your fishing; -only remember the grand characteristic of your -craft is patience."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> - -<p>The Colonel bowed, and was gone.</p> - -<p>"What a nice man he is to be sure," cried -Mrs. Storey, as soon as they were <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i>, -"so full of life, but quite different from Lord -Effingham. Those gentleman in the army -have such a gay, off-hand manner."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Colonel Dashwood is very much to be -liked—I am very fond of him."</p> - -<p>"Lord, my dear, that is a confession."</p> - -<p>"Is it," said Kate, laughing.</p> - -<p>"What would my lord say to that?" asked -Mrs. Storey.</p> - -<p>"Nothing, I should think."</p> - -<p>"Two strings to one's bow, are sometimes -as bad as none," remarked Mrs. Storey, oracularly.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>Miss Vernon was glad to have seen Colonel -Dashwood, and heard from him, of Lord<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> -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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">engouement</i>. 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."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"What a beautiful horse," cried Willie, -after looking over the blinds for a while in -silence.</p> - -<p>"How he holds up his head," said his sister; -"and the boy in the pretty little boots is look-at -all the houses."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p> - -<p>"They are coming here," shouted Willie, -clapping his hands.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Storey rose to look, and reached the -window, just as the diminutive tiger knocked -at the door.</p> - -<p>"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—</p> - -<p>"A gentleman for Miss Vernon."</p> - -<p>Kate, whose sense of the ridiculous, was too -genuine to be extinguished, even by sincere -vexation at so unwelcome a visit, rose to re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>ceive -him with an irrepressible smile, at the -contrast between Mrs. Storey's despairing fuss, -and his calm, unconscious, high-bred <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">entré</i>.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>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 pro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>voked -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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"You have not told me anything of Lady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> -Desmond," said Lord Effingham, turning to -her with consummate assurance. "She is in -Dublin, is she not?"</p> - -<p>Kate bowed.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"So nurse says," replied Miss Vernon.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Storey laughed, and said, "she was -quite a character."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"You cannot imagine my astonishment, on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>"It can hardly be called a masked movement, -considering it had been discussed a fortnight -before <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en cour pleniere</i>," returned Miss -Vernon; "some intelligence, unexpectedly, -received, induced my cousin to make the -journey more suddenly than she had anticipated."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"There are two descriptions of angels," -said Kate, simply.</p> - -<p>The remark was irresistible; but it was -hardly uttered before she regretted it; for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">entré</i>.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Law! my dear girl," said Mrs. Storey,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"But what shall we do about to-morrow?" -said poor Mrs. Storey, ruefully. She could not -relinquish an Earl without a pang.</p> - -<p>"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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">cicerone</i>. If this -continues," added Kate, resolutely, "I will -leave London. Indeed, I have wished to speak -to you on this subject before."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>Kate thought he said this with unusual -acerbity.</p> - -<p>"Well, that <em>is</em> unfortunate," cried Mrs. -Storey.</p> - -<p>"What a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">grandee</i> 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."</p> - -<p>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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> -While Langley and Kate conversed quietly -apart.</p> - -<p>"Is Lord Effingham a great lover of painting?"</p> - -<p>"I believe so; he certainly understands it."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, quite well—I should like to see him -again."</p> - -<p>"He has just returned from France, with a -perfect budget of anecdotes, touching the late -Revolution; he is a strange fellow," concluded -Langley, musingly.</p> - -<p>"I always wonder that M. Gailliard is not -a man of greater eminence than he is."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Very likely. Do you know, Miss Vernon, -you think a good deal for a young lady!"</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> -Mr. Gilpin's papers—they seem to have been -written not long before his sister's death."</p> - -<p>And, after a few arpeggio chords, she sung -as follows:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"Look afar thro' the gloom, weary heart,</div> - <div class="verse">To yon dim and faint revealing,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">The glim'ring ray</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Of distant day</div> - <div class="verse">O'er life's troubled ocean stealing.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">It comes with endless joy, sad heart,</div> - <div class="verse">A glorious sunburst beaming,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">With peace and love</div> - <div class="verse indent4">From heaven above,</div> - <div class="verse">O'er sin and sorrow streaming.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Soon the dark waters past, sad heart,</div> - <div class="verse">Thou'lt rest in thy spirit home,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">Where we part no more</div> - <div class="verse indent4">From those gone before</div> - <div class="verse">Across life's billowy foam.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">There no falsehood shall oppress thee,</div> - <div class="verse">Nor sorrow's dark'ning gloom,</div> - <div class="verse indent4">For free is the soul</div> - <div class="verse indent4">That has reached its goal,</div> - <div class="verse">In the world beyond the tomb."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>"Well, Miss Vernon," remarked Mr. Storey, -"that's quite too melancholy a song for me—the -dismals never suit my book."</p> - -<p>"My dear! it is beautiful, and made me -cry, I could not help it!" exclaimed his wife.</p> - -<p>"You say the words are original," observed -Langley.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I am almost sure they were written -by Mr. Gilpin's sister, who died of consumption -shortly before we went to A——."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Now, Miss Vernon, may I ask for that -march we liked so much, yesterday?" said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> -Mrs. Storey, and soon afterwards they separated -for the night.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"But you will see, he will come for all that," -concluded Mrs. Storey.</p> - -<p>"Then <em>you</em> must receive him," said Kate, -"I will not appear."</p> - -<p>"Gracious goodness," cried her hostess. -"What shall I say about you?"</p> - -<p>"Do not trouble yourself to think—send for -me, and the message I shall return will relieve -you of all responsibility."</p> - -<p>"But if he insists on seeing you?"</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Storey's conjectures proved true, for, -notwithstanding the weather, Lord Effingham -arrived punctually at the time specified.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>In due course of time, Mrs. Storey's message -reached her.</p> - -<p>"Please'm, my missis says, would you be so -good as to step down."</p> - -<p>"My compliments, I am particularly engaged," -said Miss Vernon, quietly.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">recherché</i>. Mrs. -Storey determined the supper should be what -her husband termed a "chief endeavour," the -facetious translation of "<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">chef d'œuvre</i>."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>The day but one after her party, Mrs. Storey<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -disappointed Kate's intention of asking for a -quiet confidential walk after dinner, by desiring -the parlour maid at breakfast, to—</p> - -<p>"Tell cook to have dinner at one precisely, -I must go into town on particular business to-day."</p> - -<p>Kate declined her invitation to accompany -her, observing—</p> - -<p>"I want a long talk with you, dear Mrs. -Storey, the first time you are at leisure."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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 sur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>prise -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—</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"The extraordinary fact of your being -domesticated with such people," exclaimed -Lord Effingham, abruptly, "is sufficiently elo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>quent -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?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Dishonorable!" cried the Earl, his sallow -cheek flushing for an instant. "You use strong -terms, Miss Vernon."</p> - -<p>"Not more strong than just," returned -Kate. "I call it dishonorable, if, rightly or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> -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—"</p> - -<p>She stopped, fearful of betraying herself or -her cousin. Lord Effingham supplied the -word—</p> - -<p>"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 -<em>you</em> 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.</p> - -<p>Kate felt that she quailed before the true -picture he had sketched.</p> - -<p>"Your eyes are less faithful to your cousin's -cause than your lips—<em>they</em> admit much," continued -Lord Effingham.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>She paused; and Lord Effingham, whose -varied colour had settled into deadly paleness, -rose, and paced the room in silence, before replying—</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>Kate, moved by the tone of despondency -with which this was asked, replied hesitatingly—</p> - -<p>"Perhaps—because you never knew where -to look for it."</p> - -<p>"And will you not direct me?" said the -Earl, with intense earnestness.</p> - -<p>Kate shook her head in silent refusal.</p> - -<p>He gazed at her still for an instant, and -then, taking her hand, said—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> - -<p>"In all probability, we shall never meet -again. You have acted in accordance with -your character—I, with mine."</p> - -<p>And, turning away, he left the house.</p> - -<p>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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> -in justice to herself, she determined to mention -having seen the Earl for the last time.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"I am sure I have a thousand apologies to -make, my dear, leaving you all the afternoon -by yourself."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, Mrs. Storey, you need not apologise; -besides I have not been alone. Lord -Effingham has been here."</p> - -<p>"Oh, indeed," cried Mrs. Storey, eagerly.</p> - -<p>"Yes; and I do not think we shall be -troubled with him any more."</p> - -<p>"Well, my dear, you know best; but—" -and Mrs. Storey shook her head.</p> - -<p>In truth, the kind-hearted little woman was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> -much attached to Kate, especially since she -had been domesticated with her. She would -gladly have witnessed her "<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">entrée</i>" 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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> -just tell me you'll let me off stoppin' here any -longer."</p> - -<p>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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> -These letters despatched, she joined her -hostess.</p> - -<p>"You remember, I told you yesterday, I -wanted a good long talk with you, Mrs. Storey."</p> - -<p>"Yes, dear, and here I am ready for it."</p> - -<p>"You are very kind to me, Mrs. Storey."</p> - -<p>"La, my love, it's a pleasure to me."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>A thundering knock here startled and interrupted -her.</p> - -<p>"Goodness, gracious me," cried Mrs. Storey, -"who can that be? A very smart brougham, -my dear, and—let me see—yes—no—it <em>is</em> -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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> - -<p>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 <em>she</em> is so much engaged with -her house and servants and sons, Mrs. Jorrocks -is often lonely."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"If you will allow me to call upon you to-morrow, -I will let you know more particulars."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"At twelve, then, I will be with you," said -Kate, with a smile.</p> - -<p>"And now, Mrs. Storey, I must bid you good -morning. My compliments to Mr. Storey. -Good morning Miss Vernon."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes—no—that is, do go on and tell me—surely -it can't be yourself?"</p> - -<p>"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' <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">entré</i> interrupted. I am sure -you are too thoroughly English not to sympathise -in my wish to <em>earn</em> 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 <em>home</em> can never -be found among strangers—and this appears to -promise fairly enough."</p> - -<p>"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!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Indeed, dear, you have the right spirit;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> -and, after all, I dare say you have your own -reasons for leaving Lady Desmond!"</p> - -<p>"She is always kind and good," said Kate.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"I can stay there, at all events, till the -Winters' return. Oh, when will they write!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"I am really ashamed to offer you what my -mother-in-law has limited me to," said young -Mrs. Jorrocks, with some embarrassment.</p> - -<p>"You need not mind that," returned Kate; -"I want more a—" she could not desecrate the -word "home," and substituted, "a respectable -residence."</p> - -<p>"Well then, I consider you engaged; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"I had nearly forgotten to ask you where -Mrs. Jorrocks lives—a very necessary question."</p> - -<p>"Oh, at Carrington—her son-in-law, Mr. -Wilson, is a cotton broker there."</p> - -<p>"Carrington," repeated Kate, colouring -with surprise and emotion.</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, once. We used to live at A——, -which is only an hour's drive from Carrington."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Kate, confused by the flood of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> -memories which welled up from the depths of -her heart, at the sound of these familiar -names.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Then I will wish you good morning."</p> - -<p>"Good morning, Miss Vernon, good morning!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Dear Mrs. Storey! it is all settled!" cried -Kate, on finding that lady alone. "I am -going to Carrington—where—where—"</p> - -<p>A burst of irrepressible tears choked her -voice.</p> - -<p>"My dear girl! don't now—there's a love! -here, smell to the salts," exclaimed Mrs. -Storey, in great perplexity; she did not un<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span>derstand -the grateful sympathy of silence on -such occasions.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Very well, dear, whatever you like."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"Oh, let thy weary heart rest upon mine,</div> - <div class="verse">And it shall faint no more, nor thirst, nor hunger,</div> - <div class="verse">But be satisfied and filled with my affection,"</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>"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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> -without seeing Colonel Egerton, as it were, beside -him, they are so closely linked in my -heart."</p> - -<p>And with sudden decision she rose, bathed -her eyes, and joined Mrs. Storey on a journey -to Bond Street.</p> - -<p>As young Mrs. Jorrocks had prophesied, -Kate received a speedy summons from <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">La Belle -Mère</i>. 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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Dear nurse used to say Thursday was a -lucky day," she said, as she closed the letter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> -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!"</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ph3">CARRINGTON.</p> - - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> -glanced across her mind the thought, "have -I not come to the worst; perhaps the next -change may be for the better."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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—</p> - -<p>"Then I do wish they would go faster—suspense -is such a terrible thing."</p> - -<p>The old gentleman seemed struck by the -sudden warmth evinced by his hitherto taciturn -companion.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"What part of the town, may I ask, are you -going to?"</p> - -<p>"Carleton Terrace, New Park."</p> - -<p>"Oh, indeed. I live near that myself."</p> - -<p>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 dex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span>terity -and disregard of consequences, out of the -van.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Are you Miss Vernon?" he asked, in an -abrupt, harsh voice, which was at its harshest -epoch.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Kate, looking at him doubtfully, -uncertain what rank in society to assign him;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> -his face would not have been misplaced under -a basket of oranges, nor his clothes on the heir -apparent of an earldom.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"If you please, a cab," said Kate; and, -turning to her friendly <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">companion de voyage</i>, -thanked him for his kind attention.</p> - -<p>"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'."</p> - -<p>"I shall be very happy," she returned, -bowing, and walked towards the cab.</p> - -<p>"Stop," whispered Master Pembridge, "make -a bargain with the man before they put up the -luggage; you, go—I'll stay here."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span>"No," said Kate, "I am afraid he would -not mind me much. I dare say, he will not -charge more than he ought."</p> - -<p>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!"</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>The door was opened by a melancholy-looking -woman, who made no offer to assist the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> -cabman in removing the trunks, &c., from the -vehicle.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Come in, do, and shut that door," cried a -hard, shrill voice from some inner sanctum. -"The wind is going right through my head."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Miss Vernon. How do you do? how late<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> -you be," said she, giving Kate a cold, stiff -hand, guiltless of closing on the fair soft -fingers which took it.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> -an awaking from her dream of an interesting -old lady, sat for a few minutes in unbroken -silence.</p> - -<p>"How did you leave Mrs. Tom," was at -length asked by Miss Vernon's new acquaintance.</p> - -<p>"Quite well. I saw her the day before -yesterday; she desired many kind messages to -you."</p> - -<p>"They have been very gay up in London; -time she settled at home."</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Jorrocks seems anxious to do so," replied -Kate.</p> - -<p>"So she tells you; she be sharp enough; -you were coming to me. Had you a quiet -journey?"</p> - -<p>"Very, thank you. I met a most polite old -gentleman—a neighbour of yours, at least, he -knew your grandson."</p> - -<p>"Who can that be? what was he like?"</p> - -<p>Kate described him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span></p> - -<p>"That will be Mr. Davis. I wonder what -took him to London? we—"</p> - -<p>She was interrupted by the entrance of her -daughter.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Who do you think Miss Vernon travelled -down with?"</p> - -<p>"Why how should I know, mother?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Davis!"</p> - -<p>"Nev-er! I did not know he was up in -town."</p> - -<p>"It's very strange," said Mrs. Jorrocks with -a significant nod of the head, "That patent he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> -have paid so much money on, is not going -straight I dare say."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Davis, if he is the gentleman, did not -get in till we reached Wolverton," said Kate.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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 acquire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span>ments -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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Indeed, well I shall be ready."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>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?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span></p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Life at Carrington, with its innumerable -small trials, is too monotonous to be carefully -recorded.</p> - -<p>Kate had much to suffer; yet it was not all -suffering. She soon perceived the various <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">rôles</i> -enacted by the family. Mr. Wilson was a -thorough domestic tyrant, intense selfishness -pervaded the whole party, except, perhaps,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> -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 them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span>selves, -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.</p> - -<p>The greatest relief Miss Vernon experienced -during this <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">triste sejour</i> 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 -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">les nouveaux riches</i>. They might, perhaps, -lack that extreme outward grace of manner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span></p> - -<p>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:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>"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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span> -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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> -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?</p> - -<p>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'."</p></div> - -<p>This long letter was written from Fermoy, -and passionately did Kate weep over the picture -it drew of her deserted home.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>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 in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span>sipid -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.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Storey wrote seldom, and did not make -any renewal of her invitation—of other friends<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"Did you see what a velvet mantle Mrs. -B——, have on? asks the mother."</p> - -<p>"Yes; it cost ten guineas, if it cost a -penny," returns the daughter.</p> - -<p>"And her husband be deep in the "great -Midland;" maybe, next year she'll have to -wear Linsey-woolsey."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>Then came a few words on the sermon, -which was quickly despatched; and thus was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"I'll engage it's for Miss Vernon," said -Mrs. Jorrocks, "I never see such a many -letters as you do get."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="center"> -"<span class="smcap">My Dear Miss Vernon</span>, -</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Hoping this letter may find you well, and -in haste to catch the post.</p> - -<p class="right"> -"Your's faithfully,<br /> -<br /> -"<span class="smcap">Willm. Langley</span>." -</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span></p> - -<p>The first movement of her mind was disappointment, -that Winter had not written to herself.</p> - -<p>"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—"</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span> -Kate had established her position, and was permitted -to retain it unmolested, and in most -profound and grateful thanksgiving she knelt -that morning.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> -the preacher, and leaning his arm on the back -of the pew, revealed his well-known profile, -and ended her uncertainty.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> -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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span> -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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> -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!</p> - -<p>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."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Well I'm sure, mother, it's only the heat -at church—she will be better to-morrow."</p> - -<p>"She need'nt go to church, if she don't like -to."</p> - -<p>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 re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span>pugnance -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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ph3">THE LAST.</p> - - -<p>The Saturday after the event last recorded, -Kate was bending sadly enough over her daily -task, reading the <cite>Court Circular</cite> to Mrs. Jorrocks—her -thoughts wandering to some letters -from Lady Desmond, and from nurse, which -she had not had the heart to answer.</p> - -<p>"The Countess of P——, is entertaining -a large party at P—— Castle—the Prince -di ——, and Count Alphonso di ——, are -among the distinguished visitors.</p> - -<p>"The Earl of Effingham left Cowes, on -Tuesday last, in his yacht, the 'Meteor,' for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> -St. Petersburgh, where we understand it is his -lordship's intention to winter."</p> - -<p>"He be a shocking man," observed Mrs. -Jorrocks, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en parenthése</i>, "such stories as Mr. -Wilson have heard of him up in London. Go -on please—I think you be half asleep this -morning."</p> - -<p>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:—</p> - -<p>"A matrimonial alliance between the Marquis -of ——, and the beautiful ——."</p> - -<p>A loud ring.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>In another moment, Eliza put in her head—</p> - -<p>"Please, Miss Vernon, you're wanted."</p> - -<p>Kate rose, and left the room, carelessly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"Well; but, <i>figlia mia</i>" 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span> -will atone for it—your last letter misled me -completely; yet I ought to have returned -home before."</p> - -<p>"Oh! no, no! you are always good. Thank -God—thank God, you are come at last."</p> - -<p>"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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span> -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—"</p> - -<p>"Oh! hush, hush! You do not know how -overpoweringly delightful such a vision seems -to me."</p> - -<p>"Vision!—<i lang="it" xml:lang="it">Corpo di Bacco</i>, it shall be reality; -and Mrs. O'Toole! my adopted daughter must -have her own maid—<i lang="it" xml:lang="it">che gloria</i>—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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"<i lang="it" xml:lang="it">Poter del mondo! cospetta!</i>" 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."</p> - -<p>So they went into the front parlour, Kate -still clinging to his arm.</p> - -<p>"My friend, Mr. Winter, Mrs. Jorrocks," -said Kate.</p> - -<p>"Please to sit down, sir," returned that -lady.</p> - -<p>"I am come to take Miss Vernon away with -me," began Winter, in abrupt and decided -tones.</p> - -<p>"Oh! you be——But I think it is rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> -sudden. What am I to do—and where will -you be if I say no?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>Here Mrs. Wilson entered in a new cap, and -Winter was duly presented.</p> - -<p>"This gentleman is for taking Miss Vernon -away to-day. I declare he has quite took away -my breath," said Mrs. Jorrocks.</p> - -<p>"<em>Never</em>," returned her daughter. "Well, if -that isn't the strangest thing."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"That is not of the least importance," said -Mr. Winter.</p> - -<p>"It would distress me to seem rude where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>And thereupon Mesdames Jorrocks and Wilson -burst forth into a vociferous and vituperative -duet—</p> - -<p>"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 <em>had</em> 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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Kate, my dear," said Winter, coolly, "go -and put up your things—I see this is no place -for you—I will wait here."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"So you are off, Miss Vernon," said Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> -Wilson; "I did not think we should part so -sudden."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Well, I suppose you had better go—you -acknowledge I owe you nothing," put in Mrs. -Jorrocks.</p> - -<p>"I do indeed! Will you give this note, -with my kindest regards, to Mrs. Davis?" returned -Kate.</p> - -<p>"And," observed Winter, "permit your -servant to call a cab."</p> - -<p>A few more awkward moments, and the cab -drove up.</p> - -<p>"Well, good bye, Mrs. Jorrocks—you forgive -my abrupt departure?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose I must—good bye;" and again -the rigid hand was held out stiff and cold.</p> - -<p>"Good bye, Miss Vernon—I wish you 'appy," -said Mrs. Wilson, and she was free!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span></p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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 recognis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span>ing -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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span> -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!</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Half-past four! we shall be at Euston -Square not long after eight."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span> -up a window that had been slightly open, and -renewed his argument.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Is Lord Egerton ill then?" asked Winter, -with some interest.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span></p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"Where are we?"</p> - -<p>"Near home," said Winter, while his bead-like -eyes twinkled with more than usual vivacity.</p> - -<p>"Sure you have left no indispensable carpet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span>-bag -behind? got your parasol? all right—in -with you—14, Orchard Street—drive fast."</p> - -<p>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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">entré</i> to some concert -room—again into darkness undiminished save -by the street lamps and hall lights—then a -rumble over the side stones.</p> - -<p>"Here we are," from Winter—as the door -flew open before their charioteer could knock.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Dearest Kate! I thought you would never -come!"</p> - -<p>A sobbing, joyous embrace, and she was -swept up-stairs, where even the London lodging -looked homelike under Mrs. Winter's be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span>nign -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!</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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 Sun<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span>day -with the last; then her thoughts flew to -nurse, and she sprang up to communicate to -her the joyful news of her emancipation.</p> - -<p>"Ah! I have heart to write now."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span> -sobs from Mrs. Winter, and made her good -little husband wink his eyes, and blow his -nose, so furtively, and so often.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> -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?"</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"But, my dear," said Mrs. Winter to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span> -husband, "don't you think Kate ought to have -advice? She changes color so, and her pulse -is very irregular."</p> - -<p>"My kind friend, no," said Kate, leaning -her head on Mrs. Winter's shoulder, "<em>you</em> -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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Now I must write."</p> - -<p>"Who to?" asked Winter.</p> - -<p>"Georgy and nurse."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes—I shall be proud to have her about -you, she is excellent," returned his wife.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span></p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>She had enjoyed nearly a week of this welcome -rest, when the following letter from Lady -Desmond was put into her hand—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span> -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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"Write to me again—say you are happy—it -is all that can console me.</p> - -<p> -"Yours, as in our old days,<br /> -<br /> -"<span class="smcap">G. Desmond</span>." -</p></div> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"Or you might visit A——," she continued, -"you would, I know, like my kind friends so -much—you would enjoy Mr. Winter's artistic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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—</p> - -<p>"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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"I told the thick-headed girl, as plainly as -possible, Colonel Egerton, on purpose to pre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span>pare -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span>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—"</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>Winter did good service, however, and at -last Kate ventured to ask—</p> - -<p>"Have you been long in England, Captain—I -mean Colonel Egerton."</p> - -<p>He smiled, his own bright smile—lip and -eyes in unhesitating harmony.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"So we heard on the rail-road," interrupted -Winter; "I mean, that you had been at Allerton. -And so your brother is very ill?"</p> - -<p>Colonel Egerton shook his head.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Being his next heir," began Winter.</p> - -<p>"Is no reason why I should waste my life,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>"I know," said Kate, quietly—"you sat -three rows before me."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span></p> - -<p>Egerton almost started from his seat in profound -amazement.</p> - -<p>"How! what! do you mean to say you -were in the church, and I did not see you?"</p> - -<p>"How extraordinary you did not mention -this to me," exclaimed Winter.</p> - -<p>"I did not think—that is, I intended—and -was always interrupted," faltered Kate.</p> - -<p>"And why! why did you not speak to -me?" cried Egerton, eagerly.</p> - -<p>"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—</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"She is quite well; but alas! not with me;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span> -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."</p> - -<p>"Not with you!"</p> - -<p>Colonel Egerton was beginning in tones of -no small surprise, when the door opened, and -Mesdames Storey and Winter entered.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>Egerton felt he could make no enquiries<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span> -then, so rose to leave, having paid an unconscionably -long visit.</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"With the greatest pleasure," cried Egerton, -in his old, gay, frank manner. "I was -just wishing you would ask me."</p> - -<p>Winter and Kate smiled; and Mrs. Storey -opened her eyes, astonished at so cool an admission.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span></p> - -<p>"<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Au revoir</i>, then," continued Colonel Egerton, -taking his hat, and bowing. "I will -bring you the letter, Miss Vernon."</p> - -<p>"Is five o'clock too early?" shouted Winter, -after him, as he ran down stairs.</p> - -<p>"No, not the least."</p> - -<p>"Sharp, five then."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Storey looked truly sympathising.</p> - -<p>"Pooh, pooh, my dear, give him a chop and -a jam tart; anything—he will be satisfied, I'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span> -engage; surely you must remember how easily -pleased he was at A——."</p> - -<p>"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——."</p> - -<p>Winter pulled a long face, expressive of -contrition for his fault; and Kate interposed -her soothing influence.</p> - -<p>"Colonel Egerton was too glad to see you, -and to come to you, to be <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">difficile</i>."</p> - -<p>"Well, Mr. Winter, I must go home before -it is quite dark," said Mrs. Storey.</p> - -<p>"And I will escort you, my dear madam, -to the omnibus—where can I catch Langley?" -asked Winter.</p> - -<p>"Oh, at his house; he goes out very little."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span> -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—</p> - -<p>"Colonel Egerton is to dine here to-day!"</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>These reflections calmed the agitation which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span> -made each nerve tremulous, and she anticipated -Egerton's return less anxiously.</p> - -<p>"I long to talk to him of grandpapa; but I -am afraid of crying so very much, it would -distress him."</p> - -<p>Here Mrs. Winter entered, quite restored -to good humour, as Kate dimly perceived by -the fire-light.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>If—of course she intended to do so.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span></p> - -<p>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 con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span>tained -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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"With all the roughing she bore so well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span> -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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">recherché</i> dinner, -Colonel, on so short—"</p> - -<p>"My dear John, how can you—"</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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—<i lang="it" xml:lang="it">Dormire coi cani per levarsi colle pulci</i>."</p> - -<p>"Well, my love, I think everything went -on very smoothly," said Mrs. Winter, as she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span> -settled herself for her nap before the gentlemen -made their appearance.</p> - -<p>"Very well indeed," returned Kate, vaguely, -her eyes gazing far away into dreamland.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I have much to tell you," returned -Miss Vernon, tremulously.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Thank you; I will forward it to-morrow. -She will join me at A——. We return there -in about a fortnight."</p> - -<p>"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?"</p> - -<p>Kate smiled, and shook her head.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Certainly," said Kate, "I shall not fail."</p> - -<p>"Your cousin, Lady Desmond, is in Ireland, -so Burton told me; he is a capital fellow; but -Dashwood was away, God knows where; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span> -he was the only person it appears who had -any trace of you. Do you know where he -is?"</p> - -<p>"No, he told me he was going to fish in -Ireland when I saw him last."</p> - -<p>"So Lord Effingham is off to St. Petersburgh, -Miss Vernon," said Langley, at this -juncture.</p> - -<p>Kate felt that Fred's eye was on her, and -coloured deeply, as she merely bowed in assent.</p> - -<p>"Curious place to winter in," he continued.</p> - -<p>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—</p> - -<p>"Do you ever sing now?"</p> - -<p>"Oh yes," answered Mrs. Winter for her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span> -"Sing that pretty new song you got yesterday, -my love."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"I will try," said Kate; "but—"</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>She was thoroughly overcome; and, exhausted -by the excitement of the day, returned -no more that evening.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span></p> - -<p>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, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">malgré lui</i>, -to talk of generalities, this constraint gave something -of coolness and gravity to his manner; he -was often <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">distrait</i>; and Kate felt less calm.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Mrs. O'Toole's letters were filled -with the rapturous expectation of a reunion with -her <em>Darlint</em>, and could scarce be induced to -wait until the time specified for her return by -Winter.</p> - -<p>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 <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">maestro</i> to keep in doors; they -had not been gone many minutes when Egerton -came in, carrying a large bouquet of hot-house -flowers.</p> - -<p>"I have just met Winter, and his <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">cara sposa</i>;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span> -they told me you were on the sick list. How -is that?"</p> - -<p>"A cold—oh, nothing; but what beautiful -flowers. I have suffered much from a dearth -of flowers."</p> - -<p>"I wrote to my sister, who is at present -at Allerton, to send me a basket full, they have -tolerable conservatories there."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but they are for you."</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span> -no, not one near me, that I loved, except poor -nurse."</p> - -<p>She stopped to recover herself; Egerton, -springing to her side, took her hand in both his,</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>He drew her to him, close, close, and she -leaned her hand upon his shoulder, murmuring,</p> - -<p>"I always wished you to be there, <em>he</em> loved -you so much."</p> - -<p>Where was sorrow, or fear, or doubt? -"Where the evil that could touch her now -that she had reached the haven where she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[393]</a></span> -would be?" vanished before the genial sunshine -of Egerton's love.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>A glance on his entrance told Winter the -state of affairs better, indeed, than Egerton's -incoherent explanation.</p> - -<p>We have reached the climax of our story, -not much remains to be told, already its simple<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[394]</a></span> -annals have spread themselves out too far; -patience, but little remains.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p> -<i>To Mrs. O'Toole, Fermoy, Ireland.</i> -</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[395]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p> -Ever your loving child,<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">Kate</span>." -</p></div> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"To nurse, but you must not see it."</p> - -<p>"<em>Cativa</em>—I have no such wild ambition, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[396]</a></span> -keep it till to-morrow, I want to add a postscript."</p> - -<p>"Yes but no later, she will be so proud to hear -from you."</p> - -<p>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."</p> - -<p>"I trust you will not think of taking her to -India."</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[397]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>"My dear nurse, Miss Kate will not let me -see what she has written, so I must write for -myself."</p> - -<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[398]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p> -Yours with sincere regard,<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">Fred. B. Egerton</span>. -</p></div> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[399]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"For shame, nurse, you must not speak -so."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[401]</a></span></p> - -<p>"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!</p> - -<p>"Only a viscountess, and even then that -seems very strange."</p> - -<p>"A vi-countess; that's something betune -thim, anyways." Kate laughed. "An' whin -will me Lord be here?"</p> - -<p>"Not till after his brother's funeral, of -course."</p> - -<p>"They'll have a grand berrin," concluded -Mrs. O'Toole, meditatively.</p> - -<p>The new peer, as may be anticipated, joined<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[402]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Well nurse, never mind; I can't stop now,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[403]</a></span> -for you see there's Miss Kate waiting for me; -we'll have a long talk to-morrow," cried Egerton, -springing up the stairs.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>And Mrs. O'Toole, though the wedding was -peculiarly quiet, was satisfied, perfectly, as she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[404]</a></span> -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!"</p> - -<p>Our tale is ended, and Kate Vernon merged -in "The Viscountess Egerton."</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[405]</a></span></p> - -<p>Bruton remains a determined old bachelor.</p> - -<p>The Winters are well, happy, and prosperous, -as they deserve to be.</p> - -<p>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 <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">embonpoint</i>, -and well to do in the world, as -evidenced by her substantial black silk dress -and bonnet, and rich scarlet shawl.</p> - -<p>"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.</p> - -<p>"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;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[406]</a></span> -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.</p> - -<p>The thread is spun, the web is woven—a -parting quotation, and we have done:—</p> - -<p><cite>Saunders's News-Letter</cite> (we omit the precise -date) lately contained the following paragraph:—</p> - -<p>"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."</p> - -<p>"Ay," said a thick little artist, who had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[407]</a></span> -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."</p> - - -<p class="ph3">THE END.</p> - - -<p class="ph4">T. C. Newby, Printer, 30, Welbeck Street, Cavendish Square.</p> - -<div class='transnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> - <p>Minor punctuation and printer errors repaired.</p> - - - <p>Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully - as possible, including obsolete and variant spellings and other - inconsistencies.</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -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-h.htm or 53668-h.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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