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diff --git a/old/68760-0.txt b/old/68760-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b6f19b2..0000000 --- a/old/68760-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11167 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Betrothed for a day, by Laura Jean -Libbey - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Betrothed for a day - Or, Queenie Trevalyn's love test - -Author: Laura Jean Libbey - -Release Date: August 15, 2022 [eBook #68760] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Demian Katz, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Images courtesy - of the Digital Library@Villanova University.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BETROTHED FOR A DAY *** - - -Transcriber’s Notes: - -Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_), and text -enclosed by equal signs is in bold (=bold=). - -Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end. - - * * * * * - -LAURA SERIES No. 2 - -BETROTHED FOR A DAY - -BY LAURA JEAN LIBBEY - -[Illustration] - -STREET & SMITH PUBLISHERS NEW YORK - - * * * * * - - - - -BETROTHED FOR A DAY; - - - OR, - Queenie Trevalyn’s Love Test - - BY - MISS LAURA JEAN LIBBEY - - _The Greatest Living Novelist, whose stories no author has ever been - able to equal, and whose fame as the Favorite Writer of the People - has never been surpassed_, - - AUTHOR OF - “The Lovely Maid of Darby Town,” “What is Life Without Love?” - “Sweet Dolly Gray,” “Sweetheart Will You be True?” - “The Price of Pretty Odette’s Kiss,” “Sweet Kitty Clover,” - “Ought We to Invite Her?” “Parted by Fate,” - “Ione,” “We Parted at the Altar,” etc. - - [Illustration] - - NEW YORK - STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS - 238 WILLIAM STREET - - * * * * * - - Copyright, 1901 - By Norman L. Munro - - Betrothed for a Day - - * * * * * - -BY LAURA JEAN LIBBEY - -The Laura Series - -Almost every reader, in the course of his or her experience, has read -at least one of Laura Jean Libbey’s most enjoyable novels. Probably, -upon finishing the tale the only regret the reader had was that it was -not twice as long. - -This may also be applied to the author’s new stories, all of which -Messrs. Street & Smith have recently purchased at a round figure. - -These, the best productions from the pen of an author, all of whose -works may conscientiously be classed as excellent, will be published in -a new line called the Laura Series. - -These stories have never appeared in book form--they are not old ones. -They are guaranteed to be the latest and best--representing the full -talent of this remarkable writer. - -We give herewith a list of those published and others scheduled. - -_By_ LAURA JEAN LIBBEY - - 1. The Lovely Maid of Darby Town. - 2. Betrothed for a Day. - 3. What Is Life Without Love? - 4. Sweet Dolly Grey. - 5. Sweetheart, Will You Be True? - 6. Gladys, the Music Teacher’s Daughter. - 7. Madcap Laddy, The Flirt. - 8. The Prince of Pretty Odette’s Kiss. - 9. Sweet Kitty Clover. - 10. Ought We to Invite Her? - - * * * * * - -BETROTHED FOR A DAY. - - - - -CHAPTER I. A STRANGER’S LOVE. - - - “Her lips were silent--scarcely beat her heart, - Her eyes alone proclaimed, ‘we must not part;’ - Thy hope may perish, or thy friends may flee, - Farewell to life, but not adieu to thee.” - -It was on the last night of the season at gay Newport; on the morrow, -at the noon hour, there was to be a great exodus of the summer guests, -and by nightfall the famous Ocean House would be closed. - -The brilliant season of 1901 would be but a memory to the merry -throng--dancing, laughing, flirting to their hearts’ content to-night -in the magnificent ballroom; and every one seemed intent upon making -the most of the occasion. - -As usual, “the beautiful Miss Trevalyn,” as every one called her, was -the belle of the ball, as she had been the belle of the season, much -to the chagrin of a whole set of beauties who had come this summer to -take Newport by storm and capture the richest matrimonial prize. Even -Miss Queenie Trevalyn’s cruelest enemy could not help but admit that -she was simply perfect to-night as she floated down the plant-embowered -ballroom, a fairy vision in pink tulle, fluttering ribbons and garlands -of blush-roses looping back her long jetty curls. Here, there and -everywhere flashed that slender pink figure with the lovely face, rosy -and radiant with smiles and flushed with excitement, her red lips -parted, and those wondrous midnight-black eyes of hers gleaming like -stars. - -“Who is the gentleman with whom Miss Trevalyn is waltzing?” asked an -anxious mother--a guest from one of the cottages--whose four unmarried -daughters were at that moment playing the disagreeable part of wall -flowers. - -Her companion, an old-time guest of the hotel, who kept strict -tabs upon the other guests, and prided herself upon knowing pretty -thoroughly everybody else’s business, leaned forward from her seat on -the piazza and raised her lorgnette to her eyes, critically surveying -the young lady’s partner. - -He was a tall, handsome, distinguished man of at least thirty, bronzed -and bearded, with a noble bearing that could not fail to attract -attention anywhere. He was a man whom men take to on sight, and women -adore. - -His eyes were deep blue and his hair was a dark, chestnut brown--a -shade darker perhaps than the trim beard and mustache were. - -“That is just what everybody here has been trying to find out,” was the -reply, “but no one seems to know; he came here quite a month ago, and -the first evening of his arrival proved himself a hero. It happened in -this way: The elevator boy, upon reaching the fourth floor, had stepped -out of the car for a moment to lift a heavy satchel for a lady who had -come up with him, to a room a couple of doors distant, and in that -moment two persons had entered the elevator--Miss Queenie Trevalyn and -the distinguished-looking new arrival. No one could tell just how the -terrible affair occurred, whether one or the other brushed against the -lever accidentally or not, but the next instant, with the rapidity of -lightning, and without an instant’s warning, the car began to shoot -downward. - -“Wild cries of horror broke from the lips of the guests at each landing -as it shot past. They realized what had happened; they could see that -there was some one in the car, and they realized that it meant instant -death to the occupants when the car reached the flagging below. - -“Some one who heard the horrible whizzing sound from below, and knew -what had occurred, had the presence of mind to tear aside the wire -door. What occurred then even those who witnessed it can scarcely -recount, they were so dazeny. Anyhow, seeing the clearing straight -ahead, the stranger made the most daring leap for life that was ever -chronicled either in tale or history, through it; he had Miss Trevalyn, -who was in a deep swoon, clasped tightly in his arms. - -“Out from the flying, death-dealing car he shot like an arrow from -a bow, landing headforemost among the throng, who fairly held their -breath in horror too awful for words. - -“The car was wrecked into a thousand fragments. - -“By the presence of mind of the heroic stranger Miss Trevalyn’s and his -own life were spared, and they were little the worse, save from the -fright, from their thrilling experience. - -“They would have made a great furore over Mr. John Dinsmore at the -Ocean Hotel after that, but he would not permit it. He flatly refused -to be lionized, which showed Newport society that he was certainly -careless about being in the swim, as we call it. - -“His heart was not proof against a lovely girl’s attractions, however. -He finished by falling in love with Miss Trevalyn in the most approved, -romantic style, and has been her veritable shadow ever since, despite -the fact that there are a score of handsome fellows in the race for her -favor, and one in particular, a young man who is heir to the fortune of -his uncle, a multi-millionaire, who was supposed to be the lucky winner -of the queen’s heart up to the day of the thrilling elevator episode.” - -“I suppose she will marry the fine-looking hero who saved her life,” -said the mother of the four unwedded maidens. - -The other returned significantly: - -“If he is rich, it is not unlikely; if he is poor, Queenie Trevalyn -will whistle him down the wind, as the old saying goes. Lawrence -Trevalyn’s daughter is too worldly to make an unsuitable marriage. Her -father is one of the ablest lawyers at the New York bar, and makes no -end of money, but his extravagant family succeeds splendidly in living -up to every dollar of his entire income, and Miss Queenie knows that -her only hope is in marrying a fortune; she is quite as ambitious -as her parents. With her the head will rule instead of the heart, I -promise you; that is, if one can judge from the score of lovers she -has sent adrift this season.” - -“I really thought she cared a little for young Ray Challoner, the -millionaire. I confess I had expected to see her pass most of her -last evening at Newport dancing with him exclusively; but perhaps she -is pursuing this course to pique him into an immediate proposal. A -remarkably shrewd and clever girl is Queenie Trevalyn.” - -“Is this Mr. Challoner deeply in love with her, too?” asked the mother -of the four unwedded girls, trying to veil the eagerness in her voice -behind a mass of carelessness. - -“Hopelessly,” returned her informant, “and for that reason I marvel -that he is not on hand to sue for every dance and challenge any one to -mortal combat who dares seek the beauty’s favor.” - -Meanwhile, the young girl who had been the subject of the above gossip -had disappeared through one of the long French windows that opened -out upon the piazza, and, leaning upon the arm of her companion, had -floated across the white sands to the water’s edge. - -For a moment they stood thus, in utter silence, while the tide rippled -in slowly at their feet, mirroring the thousands of glittering stars in -the blue dome above on its pulsing bosom. - -Queenie pretends the utmost innocence in regard to the object he has in -view in asking her to come down to the water by whose waves they have -spent so many happy hours, to say good-by. - -A score or more of lovers have stood on the self-same spot with her in -the last fortnight, and ere they had turned away from those rippling -waves they had laid their hearts and fortunes at her dainty feet, only -to be rejected, as only a coquette can reject a suitor. - -Yes, she knew what was coming; his troubled face and agitation was a -forerunner of that, but her tongue ran on volubly and gayly, of how she -had enjoyed Newport, and how sorry she would feel as the train bore her -away to her city home. - -And as she talked on in her delightful, breezy way, his face grew -graver and more troubled. - -“He is going to ask me to marry him, and it depends upon his fortune as -to whether I say yes or no. He has been wonderfully silent as to what -he is, but if I am good at guessing, I should say that he is a Western -silver king--he must be worth twice as many millions as Ray Challoner,” -Queenie said to herself. - -She had adroitly led up to a proposal of marriage by knowing just -what to say, and how to use her subtly sweet voice in uttering the -sentiments low and falteringly, to arouse him to a declaration of the -tender passion. - -Standing there, he was thinking of the gulf which lay between him and -this fair young girl whom he had learned to love, and that he should -leave her without revealing one word of what was in his heart; but as -he turned to her to make some commonplace remark, and suggest returning -to the ballroom, she looked so irresistibly sweet and gracious, his -heart seemed swept away from him by storm. - -He never knew quite how it came about, but he found himself holding her -hands crushed close to his bosom, while his white lips murmured: - -“This has been a month in my life which will stand out clear and -distinct--forever. In it I have tasted the only happiness which I have -ever known; nothing will ever be like it to me again. Will you remember -me, I wonder, after you have returned home?” - -“Why should I not?” she murmured, shyly. “You have helped me to pass -the happiest summer I have ever known.” - -“Do you really mean that, Miss Trevalyn--Queenie!” he cried, hoarsely, -wondering if his ears had not deceived him. - -“Yes,” she sighed, glancing down with a tenderness in her tone which -she intended that he should not mistake. - -“I should not speak the words that are trembling on my lips, but your -kindness gives courage to my frightened heart, and I will dare incur -your displeasure, perhaps, by uttering them; but you must know, you who -are so beautiful that all men love you--you whom to gaze upon is to -become lost.” - -“I--I do not know what you mean, Mr. Dinsmore,” she murmured, with shy, -averted eyes and downcast, blushing face, thinking how different this -proposal was to the score of others she had received. - -“May I dare tell you? Promise me you will not be very angry,” he said, -humbly, “and that you will forgive me.” - -But he did not wait for her answer, he dared not pause to think, lest -his courage should fail him, but cried huskily: - -“Pardon me if I am brusque and abrupt, sweet girl, but the words are -forcing themselves like a torrent from my heart to my lips--ah, Heaven, -you must have guessed the truth ere this, Queenie! I love you! I love -you with a passion so great it is driving me mad. Let me pray my prayer -to you, let me kneel at your feet and utter it. Ah, Heaven! words fail -me to tell you how dearly I love you, my darling. My life seems to -have merged completely into yours. I love you so dearly and well, if -you send me from you, you will wreck my life--break my heart. I cast -my life as a die upon your yes or no. Look at me, darling, and answer -me--will you be my wife, Queenie. For Heaven’s sake say yes and end my -agitation and my misery. Is your answer life or death for me, my love?” - - - - -CHAPTER II. A WORSHIPER OF WEALTH. - - - “I have two lovers, both brave and gay; - And they both have spoken their minds to-day; - They both seem dying for love of me; - Well, if I choose one of them, which shall it be? - One is handsome, and tall, and grand, - With gold in the bank and acres of land, - And he says he will give them all to me - If only I’ll promise his wife to be. - The other is bonny, and blithe, and true, - With honest face bronzed, and eyes of blue; - But the wealth of his heart is the only thing - He can give to me with the wedding ring. - Yes, both seem dying for love of me; - Well, if I choose one of them, which shall it be?” - -Queenie Trevalyn looked up archly into the handsome, agitated face -bending over her, and blushed deeply. - -“Before I answer you, let me remind you that you are quite a stranger -to us, Mr. Dinsmore; you have not chosen to make a confidant of any one -concerning your personal history--from whence you came, or--or--your -standing in the community in which you reside,” she murmured, sweetly. - -“I am aware of that fact,” he answered, gloomily, dropping her hands -dejectedly, while a heavy sigh trembled over his pale lips. “The truth -is, I dreaded telling you, lest I should, perhaps, lose your friendship -at first, then, at last, your love; but no! you are too good, too -noble, pure and true to let wealth and position weigh--against--love.” - -His words gave the girl something like a fright. She had counted upon -this handsome, bearded adorer being a man of great wealth. She had -even fondly hoped that he might be a prince, traveling in disguise--a -personage of superior order. No wonder his words--which seemed to bid -fair to scatter these delicious hopes--alarmed the girl whose sole -ambition was wealth. - -She did not answer; for the first time in her life this girl, who was -so witty, versatile and brilliant, was at a loss for words. - -“It is but right that you should know who and what I am,” he pursued, -slowly. “Indeed, I should have prefaced my declaration of love with -that information. I am but a struggling author, Queenie--a man who -is fighting hard to make his way in the crowded field of letters to -future great achievements. I might have made money in the past had -I grasped the opportunities held out to me. I have been of a roving -disposition--nomadic in my tastes, eager to see the whole wide world, -and give to the people who stay at home glimpses of foreign lands, -through my pen. - -“I was prodigal with the money I earned from this source. I gave it -freely to the poor and needy, who were everywhere about. On the burning -sands of Africa, or on the snowy plains of Russia, when I lay down to -sleep, with only the sky above me, I was as happy as men who lie down -in palaces. I had no care, I was as free from it as the joyous air that -blows. I led a happy enough life of it until I came here and met you; -from that hour the world has seemed to change for me. I am no longer -the careless, happy-go-lucky fellow of a few short weeks ago, leading a -merry, Bohemian existence--just as content without money as with it. - -“If you will say that there is hope for me I will remedy all that; I -will go to work with a will and make something grand and noble out of -my life, with the one thought like a guiding star ever before me: The -woman I love shall be proud of me. I----” - -The sentence never was finished. Glancing up at that moment he caught -sight of her face, which she had turned so that the white, bright -moonlight fell full upon it. - -The scorn on the beautiful face, the anger that blazed in the dark -eyes, the contempt the curling lips revealed, appalled him. He had much -more to tell her that was important, but the words fairly froze on his -lips, and died away unmuttered. - -“Hush! not another word,” she cried, quite as soon as she was able to -speak, through her intense anger. “You have basely deceived me, as well -as every one else. You knew of the current report that you were a man -of fabulous wealth and you let it go uncontradicted. You have sailed -under false colors to force your way into society. You have cheated and -deluded us into believing that you were a gentleman. Being what you -are--a nobody--you insult me with your proposal of marriage. Conduct me -back to the hotel at once, please.” - -His face had grown white as marble--even his lips were colorless. His -eyes were dim with a sorrow too intense for words, and his strong -hands trembled like aspen leaves in the wind, and his bosom heaved. -Her cruel, taunting words had struck home to the very core of his -heart, and made a cruel wound there, like the stinging cut of a deadly, -poisoned dagger. - -There was no mistaking the meaning of her words, she spoke plainly -enough. If he had been rich he would have stood a fair chance of -winning her. The love of a great, strong, honorable heart did not -count with her. Her affection was not for exchange, but for sale. The -beautiful girl whom he had thought little less than the angels above -was but common clay, a mercenary creature, who weighed gold in the -scale against marriage, and whose idea of a gentleman, one of nature’s -noblemen, was measured by his wealth. To her a poor man was less than -the dust beneath her dainty feet. - -“You have heard what I have said, Mr. Dinsmore,” said Queenie Trevalyn, -haughtily. “Pray conform with my request by taking me back to the -ballroom at once. Were it not for appearances I would leave you and -return myself.” - -Like one dazed he turned slowly around, setting his miserable face -toward the lights and the music, but his overwrought nerves could stand -no more, strong man though he was, and without a moan or a cry he fell -headlong upon the white sands at her feet--like a hero in a great -battle falls when he has received his death wound, crying out: “When -love has conquered pride and anger, you may call me back again.” - -“Great heavens! what a dilemma!” cried Queenie Trevalyn, angrily. She -did not pause a moment to lave his face with the cooling water so near -at hand, or to take the trouble to ascertain if his headlong fall had -injured him, so intent was she in hurrying away from the spot before a -crowd gathered. - -A moment more and she was flying across the white stretch of beach, her -pink tulle gossamer robe trailing after her like a sunset cloud which -somehow had fallen from heaven to earth. - -She gained the hotel by a side entrance, and was soon back into the -ballroom. She had been gone so short a time that few had missed her -save the partner who was just coming in search of her for his waltz, -the first notes of which had just struck up. - -“Alone, Miss Trevalyn!” exclaimed Ray Challoner, advancing toward the -palm-embowered nook in which she had seated herself. “Why, this is -unprecedented. I did not suppose you ever enjoyed the luxury of being -alone; such is the penalty of having admirers by the score,” bowing low -before the beauty, adding: “I beg to remind you that this is our waltz, -and it is my favorite music, ‘My Queen.’” - -Queenie Trevalyn arose graciously, her rosebud lips wreathed in the -sweetest of smiles. She danced and laughed, the gayest of the gay, -never for an instant did her thoughts revert to the heart that was -enduring the agonies of death, for love of her, down upon the cold, -white sands. - -Ay! There he lay, stunned almost unto death, never caring to arise and -face the world again. All he wanted to do was to lie there until the -tide would come in and bear him away from life and the love which he -had found more cruel than death. - -With such a man love, with all the intensity of his grand soul, was -only possible. It was not for such a one to worship lightly at a -woman’s shrine. - -How long he lay there he never knew. It was in reality a few moments, -but to him it seemed endless centuries. He was startled by the sound of -familiar voices. - -“It is indeed Dinsmore, by all that is wonderful!” exclaimed a man who -bent over him, while his companion said musingly: “What in the world -could have happened to have felled him like this, and he strong as an -ox!” - -“The best and quickest way to find out is to bring him to and see,” -declared the other, kneeling beside the prostrate form and dashing salt -water in the white face, then catching up his hands and beginning to -chafe them vigorously. - -John Dinsmore opened his eyes slowly and gazed into the two anxious -faces bending over him. - -“Are you ill, old fellow!” they both cried in a breath. “What in the -name of goodness has happened that we find you like this?” - -His lips opened to say: “A beautiful woman has broken my heart, and I -am lying here for the tide to come in to carry me out--to death,” but -the words seemed to scorch his lips, he could not utter them. They -helped him to his feet, still wondering. - -“I was stricken with a pain at my heart,” he said. “I shall be better -soon.” - -“Let’s hope so, for we have brought the means with us to make you so, -if anything on this round earth can. But by the way,” went on one of -them, “you do not seem the least surprised to find the two chums, -poor as church mice, whom you left behind you in broiling New York, -apparently ‘doing’ fashionable Newport, though it is like catching sly -old dog Time by the tip of his tail, coming here on the last evening, -when the play is about over, and they are just going to ring down the -curtain.” - -His two companions linked arms with him, one on either side, and drew -him along the beach, each waiting for the other to unfold to John -Dinsmore the amazing news which had brought them there. - -While they hesitated thus you shall learn their identity, reader. - -The tall, dark-haired young man on the right was Hazard Ballou, artist; -French as to descent, as his name indicated, who was struggling for -fame and fortune by painting pictures which nobody seemed to want to -buy, and illustrating the joke articles in an evening paper to earn -support in the meantime. - -His companion was Jerry Gaines, a reporter, that was all, though he did -have wonderful ambition and always alluded confidently to the time when -he should be the editor of some great New York paper, and when that -time arrived, what he should do for the remainder of the trinity, his -author and artist friends, who were always ready to share their crust -with him when luck went dead against him in being able to gather in -good news articles, and getting up acceptable copy. His gains lay all -in his name at present, instead of the more practical place--his pocket. - -The “Trinity,” as the three young men styled themselves, occupied one -and the same room in a New York boarding house, each swearing never to -sever the bond by marrying, though a veritable Helen of Troy should -tempt them. - -The three friends had toiled hard, but even in their work they were -happy, for they had few cares, and had not been touched by the fever -called Love. - -“You had better tell him what brings us,” whispered Ballou to Gaines, -as John Dinsmore seemed in no hurry to question them. - -“Reporters are generally chosen to break startling news to people,” -remarked that young gentleman, dryly. Then, turning to Dinsmore, he -began, abruptly: “I say, old fellow, you were a sly dog, when you -heard us cussing rich folks in general, never to mention that you had -great expectations in that direction, I vow.” - -“I do not understand you, Jerry,” remarked Dinsmore, looking at his -friend in puzzled wonder. - -“I may as well break headlong into the facts as beat about the bush,” -laughed Jerry Gaines, adding: “Well, to tell you an amazing truth, -we are here to congratulate you upon inheriting a fortune. A pair of -English lawyers have just succeeded in ferreting you out and locating -you with our aid. They bring the astounding news, and better still, the -documents which prove you to be heir to one of the finest estates in -Louisiana, an immense tobacco plantation adjoining it, and----” - -“My poor old Uncle George!” cut in John Dinsmore, surprised for the -moment out of the grief which had taken such a deep hold of him. “And -he is dead. I am deeply grieved to hear it. And you say he has left -his enormous wealth to me. I can honestly say that I am astounded. He -has always given me to understand that I need not expect one cent from -him. He was deeply angered at me for my love of roving about the world. -There were others nearer and dearer to him who had every right to -expect to inherit his fortune. I am bewildered; I cannot understand why -he chose to make me his heir. - -“If you had brought me this wonderful news yesterday, boys, you would -have made me almost insane with joy and gratitude--ay, have made me the -happiest of men. Now it is but as dross to me. The gods have sent the -golden gift to me too late--too late.” - -“You did not wait for me to finish, old fellow,” said Gaines, coolly. -“There is a string tied to the inheritance. If you accept it you must -take a girl with it--for your wife, so your uncle’s will reads.” - - - - -CHAPTER III. THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE. - - -“Then let the inheritance go if it be mine only on condition that I -take a wife with it,” exclaimed John Dinsmore, proudly. “I will have -none of it. Never mention it to me again if you are true friends of -mine and respect my feelings. I would not marry the loveliest or the -richest woman the world holds. I could never look into a woman’s face -with love in my heart for her, and the man who marries a woman without -loving her is a villain, a rascal of the deepest dye. Heaven forbid -that I should sell my honor and my manhood for such a price. Say no -more about the inheritance, boys, I spurn it.” - -“You have actually gone mad, Dinsmore,” cried Ballou, vehemently. “It -would do for an actor on the stage to rant about wealth in that way, -but in real life it is quite a different matter. One would think to -hear you that you never knew what it was to want a square meal when -your stories were returned with thanks, or to borrow enough from your -friends to buy a paper dickey and cuffs in which to make a neat show -before an editor. Bah!--don’t be a fool, I say. Take the goods the gods -provide.” - -“And I echo Ballou’s sentiments,” declared Jerry Gaines. “No one -but a positive madman would let such a chance slip. Money can do -anything, old fellow. It can purchase comfort and position, the luxury -of idleness, royal good times, every enjoyment--ay, and last but not -least, the hand of a beautiful woman in marriage. What more could you -want?” - -“I should want the heart of the woman I wedded, and money cannot buy -the love of a true, good woman’s heart,” returned John Dinsmore, -huskily. - -As he spoke he thought of the royally beautiful creature from whom -he had so lately parted on those self-same white sands, the girl to -whom he had given all the love of his loyal heart, only to be scoffed -at and spurned; the girl whom he had blindly believed Providence had -especially given to him since the hour he had saved her life so -miraculously, risking thereby the loss of his own. He had been so sure -of her that he never for one instant doubted fate’s intentions, and had -given himself up to his idolatrous love for her, body and soul, heart -and mind. - -“Say no more on the subject, good friends. You both mean well, I know, -but it can never be,” said Dinsmore, earnestly. “Believe me, I know why -I speak thus. Say no more to me of the inheritance. Help me to forget -that it was ever in my grasp; that will be true friendship shown to me.” - -“We must leave you for an hour or so to write up this gay ball and send -in the sketch of it,” said Gaines, wishing Dinsmore to have plenty of -time to think over his good fortune, and not to decide to cast it from -him too hastily. - -The “Trinity” walked slowly back to the hotel. On the veranda they -parted, the two friends going in the direction of the ballroom, while -Dinsmore threw himself into a chair in the shadow of one of the great -pillars--to think. - -How long he sat there he never knew. He was startled at length by the -sound of voices. Two people had approached and seated themselves on the -rustic bench on the other side of the wide pillar. A massive potted -palm screened them from him, performing for him the same service, but -he knew well that musical girlish voice which had the power to move -his heart at will even yet. It was Queenie Trevalyn, and with her was -Raymond Challoner, the handsomest of all the fast, gay set of young -millionaires at Newport. - -I strictly affirm, dear reader, that it was not Dinsmore’s intention to -remain there and listen. He would have arisen instantly and quitted the -veranda, but fate seemed to decree otherwise. He was unable to raise -hand or foot or utter any sound. A terrible numbness seemed to close -down upon his every faculty, holding them as in a vise. - -Words cannot tell the agonies he suffered there. The tortures of the -rack, where he would have been stretched limb from limb, until death -relieved him, would not have been harder to endure. - -He heard handsome, indolent Raymond Challoner pour into those pretty -pink-tinted ears the story of his love, and he heard the lips of the -girl who was more to him than life itself accept the young heir of the -Challoner millions, in the sweetest of words. - -“I have just one odd determination, call it a notion if you will,” he -heard the young heir of Challoner say, “and that is, never to wed a -girl to whom any other man has ever whispered words of love. No man has -ever spoken of love to you, Queenie, or ever asked you to be his bride, -has there?” - -And the girl from whom he had parted on the white sands less than half -an hour before steeped her red lips with the horrible falsehood of -answering: - -“No, Raymond, I have never given any one save yourself encouragement to -speak to me of love, believe me.” - -“I almost believed the bronzed and bearded, mysterious Mr. Dinsmore -might take it into his head to try to win you,” he remarked, musingly. - -Queenie Trevalyn laughed an amused laugh. - -“What absurd nonsense,” she cried. “Why, he has never been anything -more to me than a mere acquaintance,” and she polluted her lips with a -second lie when she went on smoothly: “Papa paid him for the service -he rendered me in that elevator affair, and that ended any obligation -on my part. Furthermore, I must say that you do not compliment my -taste very highly to imagine for an instant that I could possibly fall -in love with such a dark-browed, plebeian-appearing man as Mr. John -Dinsmore! The very thought that you could have imagined so mortifies me -exceedingly.” - -“There, there, Queenie, do not take it to heart so. Of course you -couldn’t; only he followed you about so constantly that I own I was -furiously jealous, and thought seriously of calling him out to mortal -combat. Now that I do consider it soberly, I agree with you that he -is hardly the type of man to inspire love in a young girl’s romantic -heart, despite his bushy whiskers and melancholy air. But let us waste -no more words upon him. We can spend the fleeting hours much more -advantageously by talking of love and our future.” - -They walked away laughing, arm in arm, leaving the man on the other -side of the pillar sitting there like one carved in stone. The heart -in his bosom had seemed to break with one awful throb, rendering him -almost lifeless, and thus his friends found him when they came out to -search for him an hour later. - -“Did you think our hour an unusually long one?” laughed Gaines, adding, -before his friend had time to reply: - -“I have now another commission on my hands which is far more important -than writing up the grand ball. Shortly after leaving you I received a -lengthy telegram from our editor, ordering me to wait over instead of -taking the midnight train back to New York, as was first arranged, to -meet one of Pinkerton’s men, who ought to arrive here at any hour now. - -“It seems that he is in search of a young fellow who is giving the -police here, there and everywhere no end of trouble. He is a high-flyer -with expectations, and taking advantage of future prospects, has gone -in heavy--borrowing money, gambling, and even forging for big amounts. -He appeared suddenly in Saratoga one day last week, at the races, and -was one of the most desperate plungers at the track. The climax to his -rapid career is he had a furious encounter with a man that night, who -had won large sums on the track, and the upshot of the affair was the -man was found murdered in the early dawn of the following morning, -and the only clew which could lead to the identity of the perpetrator -of the deed is the imprint of a ring of most peculiar design upon the -temple of the victim--a triangle, set with stones, diamonds presumably, -with a large stone in the center. This is the only clew Pinkerton’s man -is following, since the descriptions differ so radically.” - -“This gives an added zest to our trip,” laughed Ballou, who was always -ready for anything which promised excitement. “Will you walk over to -meet the incoming train with us?” addressing Dinsmore. - -“No,” replied John, almost wearily, “I will sit here and smoke my -cigar, as a sort of nerve steadier.” - -“I advise you strongly to think not twice but a score of times ere -you make up your mind to throw up a handsome fortune simply because -there is a string tied to it in the shape of a pretty young girl, for -no doubt she is pretty. Young girls cannot well help being sweet and -comely, I have discovered.” - -John Dinsmore watched his friends walk away, and as they vanished into -the thick, dark gloom he gave himself up to his own dreary thoughts. -The story he had just heard, thrilling though it was, quickly vanished -from his mind, as did also the fortune that might be his for the -claiming. All he could think of was the lovely young girl upon whom he -had set his heart and soul--his very life, as it were--who had spurned -him so contemptuously and for one whom he could not think worthy of -such a treasure, as he still blindly believed Queenie Trevalyn to be. - -He had not been thrown into Raymond Challoner’s society much, and from -what little John Dinsmore did see of him he had not formed a very -favorable impression. He had heard that his wine bills were quite a -little fortune in themselves, and on several occasions, when in the -midst of a crowd of young men in the office, who were as fast and gay -as himself, John Dinsmore had heard him boast of his conquests with -fair women, and of episodes so rollicking in their nature that John -Dinsmore, man of honor as he was, reverencing all womankind, would -arise abruptly from his seat, throw down the paper he had been vainly -endeavoring to read, and walk away with a frown and unmistakable -contempt in his face as he turned away from Challoner’s direction, -going beyond the hearing of his voice and hilarious tales. If any other -man had won the treasure that cruel fate denied to him he could have -endured the blow better; but Challoner! - -“Ah! Heaven grant that she shall never have cause to rue her choice,” -he ruminated. - -In the midst of his musing he was interrupted by the voice of the very -man upon whom his thoughts were bent--Raymond Challoner. - -It had been an hour or more since he had parted from the girl who had -just promised to be his bride. The lights of the grand ballroom were -out, and the greater portion of the great hotel was wrapped in gloom, -with but here and there the twinkling light in the windows of some -belated guest, and these, too, were rapidly disappearing, leaving the -world to darkness and itself. - -It was the hour when the sports of Newport banded together to smoke -their cigars and talk over their wine, and their revelry usually lasted -far into the wee sma’ hours. To-night these young men seemed bent upon -having a royal good time together, in celebration of their last night -at the famous resort. - -Half a score of friends were with Challoner. He was always the -ringleader among his companions. Just now all seemed highly amused at -some anecdote he was relating. His unsteady steps showed John Dinsmore -that he was under the influence of wine. He arose and turned away with -a sigh, anxious to get out of sight of the sneering, handsome face of -his rival and away from the sound of his voice. - -At that instant the sound of Miss Trevalyn’s name on his rival’s lips -caught and held his attention. Raymond Challoner was boasting of his -conquest over the heart of the belle and beauty of the season. John -Dinsmore was rooted to the spot with horror to hear him discuss in the -next breath the sweetness of the betrothal kiss he had received from -the peerless Queenie. - -A general laugh followed and remarks which made the blood boil in John -Dinsmore’s veins. He was fairly speechless from rage. - -“And when do you intend to wed the beautiful Queenie?” asked a dozen or -more rollicking voices. - -“A month or two later, provided I do not see some bewitching little -fairy in the meantime who will suit me better. I----” - -The sentence was never finished. With a leap, John Dinsmore was before -him, with a face so ghastly with wrath that those who saw it were -stricken dumb. - -“Take that! for maligning a lady, you dastardly scoundrel!” cried John, -in a sonorous voice ringing with passion. And as he uttered the words -out flew his strong right arm with the force of a sledge hammer, and in -an instant Raymond Challoner was measuring his length before him on the -porch. - -“So it is you, the unsuccessful wooer, who champions Miss Trevalyn’s -cause, is it? Well that is indeed rich,” he cried, white to the lips, -adding: “I am not so good with my fists as you seem to be; however, -I insist upon wiping out this insult with your blood or mine, John -Dinsmore, ere another day dawns. Here and now I challenge you to a duel -on the beach, within an hour’s time. I will teach you then that it is -folly to interfere in another man’s affairs.” - -As he spoke he raised his hand threateningly, and to John Dinsmore’s -horror he saw upon it a triangular diamond ring, such as had been -described by his friends. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. THE MIDNIGHT DUEL. - - - The conflict is over, the struggle is past-- - I have looked, I have loved, I have worshiped my last-- - And now back to the world, and let fate do her worst - On the heart that for thee such devotion has nursed. - For thee its best feelings were wasted away, - And life hath hereafter not one to betray. - - Farewell, then, thou loved one--oh, loved but too well, - Too deeply, too blindly for language to tell! - Farewell, thou hast trampled my love’s faith in the dust, - Thou hast torn from my bosom my faith and my trust; - But if thy life’s current with bliss it would swell, - I would pour out my own in this last fond farewell! - -For an instant the lifeblood around John Dinsmore’s heart seemed to -stand still, and his eyes fairly bulged from their sockets. No, it was -no trick of his imagination, the slim, aristocratic hand of his rival, -upon which he gazed so breathlessly, bore upon it a ring of curious -device--a serpent’s body, and deeply imbedded in the flat head was a -triangle of diamonds, in the center of which was a large diamond of -rare brilliancy and beauty. - -It was the identical ring his friends had described as being worn by -the man whom they were at that moment hunting down to charge with a -terrible crime. - -Ere he could utter the words that arose to his lips, Raymond Challoner -turned away from him, saying, with a haughty sneer: - -“It is well you accept my challenge, John Dinsmore; I will meet you on -the spot designated by you upon the beach, at exactly an hour from now. -Until then adieu, most worthy champion of the fair sex, adieu!” - -Challoner walked down the length of the broad piazza with the easy, -graceful swagger peculiar to him, his friends about him, talking in -subdued voices, yet anxiously and excitedly, over the event which had -just transpired, and discussing in still lower whispers the probable -outcome of the meeting, until they were lost alike to sight and sound. - -Still John Dinsmore stood there where they had left him, like an image -carved in stone, his eyes following the direction in which they had -disappeared. - -And standing thus, a terrible temptation came to him, a temptation so -strong that for a moment it almost overpowered him. - -He had only to send quickly for his friends, who had gone to the train -to meet the detective, and tell them what he had seen, to bring about -the overthrow of his rival in the very hour of his triumph. - -The lover who had been accepted by Queenie Trevalyn as her affianced -husband, would be taken from the hotel in handcuffs. Ah, what a -glorious revenge; sweetened by the thought that Challoner would thus be -parted forever from the girl whom he had loved so madly, and lost. - -Then the nobler side of John Dinsmore’s nature struggled for mastery. -Could he, a dismissed suitor, cast the first stone at his successful -rival? Would it be manly, or ignoble? - -How Queenie Trevalyn would hate him for it! That thought settled the -matter, his rival should not come to his downfall through him. Far -better that Challoner’s bullet should pierce his heart. - -He stood quite motionless, leaning heavily against the massive pillar -of the piazza, lost in deep reverie, thinking it all over. - -What had he to live for, now that Queenie Trevalyn was lost to him -forever? Death seemed far more desirable to him than life--without her. - -He knew that Raymond Challoner was considered an excellent shot; that -every one declared him particularly clever in the use of firearms; but -that knowledge did not deter John Dinsmore from his purpose. - -When his friends entered the hotel, a little later, they found a -summons from him awaiting them, explaining briefly the affair on hand, -which was to come off within an hour, and asking them to meet him on -the beach, at the place and time indicated. - -“Whew!” exclaimed Ballou, with a long, low whistle. “What will Dinsmore -be getting into next? Knowing him as well as I do, I realize that it -is useless to attempt to talk him out of this affair of honor, as he -calls it. Heaven grant that he may not fall a victim of his opponent’s -superior marksmanship. Of course I don’t know what the deadly quarrel -between them is about, but----” - -His friend, Gaines, cut him short by announcing that they had no time -to speculate as to the cause of the contemplated duel, as they had -barely time to reach the place described--a sort of cove shut in by -high, shelving rocks, fully a mile from the hotel. - -“John has given us no time to see him first, and attempt to mediate -between him and his antagonist,” said Gaines, seizing his hat, which he -had but just removed. - -“Can nothing be done to prevent the affair from being carried out?” -queried Ballou, turning his white, worried, anxious face toward his -friend. - -“It seems not,” returned Gaines, in a voice equally as troubled. - -The two friends spoke no other word until they came within sight of the -place. Then Ballou whispered: - -“Both principals are on the ground, also his opponent’s seconds; they -are evidently awaiting us.” - -This proved to be the case. The antagonists were already facing each -other, weapons in hand. - -Although John Dinsmore had determined that it should not be his lips -which should speak proclaiming his rival’s suspected guilt of a former -crime, he supposed, when his friends came to his aid, their sharp eyes -would soon discern the ring. His thoughts carried him no farther than -that. - -In the excitement attending the meeting of his opponent upon the beach, -he failed to notice that Raymond Challoner had removed the ring. - -Both friends knew, as they rapidly approached, that it was too late to -interfere; the two combatants stood facing each other, fifteen paces -apart, weapons in hand. - -Challoner’s second conferred with Ballou for a moment, then they -announced that all was in readiness. - -A deathlike silence ensued, broken only by the sobbing of the wind and -the dash of the waves, beating a solemn requiem upon the shore. Slowly -the command was given: - -“One--two--three--fire!” - -Simultaneously the report of the two pistol shots rang out upon the -midnight air, followed instantly by the sound of a body falling heavily -upon the sands. - -John Dinsmore had fallen upon his face, the lifeblood from a wound in -his breast coloring the white beach crimson about him. - -In a trice his two friends were bending over him, beside the doctor, -who was making a rapid examination to find out the extent of the -wounded man’s injuries; believing, however, that Raymond Challoner’s -opponent was beyond all human aid. He had figured at several of these -affairs of honor in which Challoner had been engaged, and had never yet -known him to fail to strike the heart at which he aimed. - -“He brought it on himself,” said Challoner, addressing his second. -“He would have it!” and he turned away upon his heel with a mocking -sneer curling his cynical lips. Tossing his weapon to his second, he -nonchalantly resumed his hat and coat, and walked coolly away toward -the hotel, not deigning to cast one glance backward, even to take the -trouble to inquire whether his victim was alive, or dead. - -Both of the fallen man’s friends heard him remark, as a parting shot: - -“Such is the fate of any one who attempts to meddle in my affairs.” - -“Your friend is not dead,” said the doctor, hastily, anxious to attract -their attention from Challoner, fearing perhaps a double or a triple -duel might result from this affair. - -“He is badly wounded, there is no doubt about that, but in my opinion -the wound is not necessarily fatal. I have every hope that we shall be -able to pull him through, with this splendid physique to aid us.” - -The two friends breathed more freely, and Gaines said, slowly: - -“If he were to die, the man who murdered him would have the opportunity -to try his hand next on me.” - -“And after that on me,” remarked Ballou, “in case he should escape your -bullet.” - -“The first thing to be attended to is to get him away from here,” cut -in the doctor, quietly. Adding: “As the hotel is to close within a few -short hours, they would not receive him there. I propose removing him -at once to a little cottage I know of adjacent to this place, in which -lives an old nurse whom I often employ. She will willingly take him in -and do her best for him.” - -The two friends received this suggestion gratefully. - -Between the three of them, they succeeded in conveying him to the place -indicated, without loss of time, and there the doctor made a further -examination of his injuries. - -“Mr. Challoner’s bullet missed its aim by a single hair’s breadth,” he -said; “but with Mrs. Brent’s careful nursing, we may hope for much.” - -It was with the greatest of regret that the two friends left Newport -the next day for New York, leaving John Dinsmore, who had not yet -regained consciousness, in the hands of the doctor, who was a resident -of the place, and the aged nurse. - -Everything had gone wrong with them; they had been unable, even with -the aid of the skillful detective, to find the slightest trace of the -man for whom they were looking, and concluded that he had left the -resort ere they had reached it, having been informed in advance in some -mysterious manner of their coming. - -Meanwhile, the girl for whom John Dinsmore had risked his noble life -a second time, was pacing up and down the floor of her elegant suite -of rooms, with a very perturbed countenance, reading for the twentieth -time the letter which her mother had but just received, read but half -through, and had fainted outright; recovering only to go from one -violent fit of hysterics into another. - -Queenie Trevalyn had read it slowly through twice, controlling her -emotions with a supreme effort. - -It was from her father, and announced his utter failure in New York. - -He had made an unsuccessful venture in Wall Street, and the result was -that every dollar he had on earth had been swept from him. - -“When you return to the city,” he wrote, “instead of your own home, it -will be to a boarding house. For myself I care not; but my heart bleeds -for you, my dear wife, and Queenie, knowing full well how much you -both love the luxurious trappings of wealth and position! But my grief -cannot mend matters. Our only hope of retrieving our fallen fortunes is -by Queenie marrying money.” - - - - -CHAPTER V. THE POWER OF GOLD. - - - “The eagle suffers little birds to sing, - And is not careful what they mean thereby, - Knowing that with the shadow of his wing - He can at pleasure stint their melody.” - -Queenie Trevalyn did not go into hysterics over her father’s letter, as -her mother had done. Instead, she was very angry. - -“How dare a man, who has a family on his hands dependent upon him for -support, to risk his fortune in speculation?” she stormed. “The man who -is mad enough to do it should be sent to an insane asylum, and confined -there for the rest of his natural life!” - -“But what are we to do, my dear?” queried the weeping mother, in a -sobbing, querulous voice. “I have always lived in elegance; how am I -to enter a New York boarding house? I--I should fall down dead on the -threshold! I ask you, what are we to do, Queenie!” - -And off the poor lady went into another violent spasm of hysterics. - -“The genteel poor; how I have always pitied them!” went on the sobbing -lady, her tears falling afresh. “Poor people who carry about them -traces of former greatness. How our set will comment on our downfall, -Queenie, and turn their heads the other way as they pass us by on the -street; they riding in their carriages, and we tramping through the -dust afoot. Oh, I can never endure it, Queenie! I will take to my bed -and remain there until the day I die. I have read of poverty in novels, -and always pitied the poor heroine. I never imagined that I should one -day be in a similar position myself. Oh, dear, if I could have only -died ere this dark dawn fell upon us!” - -“If you will only dry your tears long enough to listen to what I have -to say, and talk the matter over with me, I may be able to suggest a -path out of the labyrinth. You have given me no opportunity to tell -you a piece of news that may, in your estimation, offset this dreadful -calamity.” - -Mrs. Trevalyn looked up at her beautiful daughter through her tears. - -“Go on, my dear,” she said. “I will listen patiently to anything you -may have to say; but I think I can tell, by the way in which you have -received the distressing news concerning your father’s failure, just -what it is. Mr. Dinsmore has asked you to be his wife.” - -“He has, and I have refused him,” replied the daughter, laconically. - -“Refused him?” echoed Mrs. Trevalyn, looking at the beauty with dilated -eyes. “Refused him--while every one is sure that he must be worth -barrels of money?” - -“Every one is wrong in this instance, as usual. Mr. Dinsmore is only an -author; his expectations are in the vapory shape of possible royalties -on some future great book which he purposes to astonish the world -with. His present income is what little he can earn from writing for -magazines and papers; feeling as rich as a lord with twenty-five -dollars in his pocket to-day, and to-morrow a beggar, or nearly so.” - -“Can it be possible?” gasped Mrs. Trevalyn, wondering if she had heard -aright. “How did you find it out?” - -“From his own lips,” replied Queenie; adding impatiently: “But it is -not of him I wish to speak; though right here and now, mamma, I frankly -admit that I did admire John Dinsmore more than I care to own, and to -find out that he was a poor man was a decided shock to me; but I am my -mother’s daughter, and having a horror of poverty, I threw him over, -stifling my regrets with an iron will.” - -“You are very brave, Queenie darling,” murmured Mrs. Trevalyn. - -“I had very little time to grieve over having to refuse him,” continued -Queenie, “for another lover arose instantly upon the horizon of my -future, as though to console me. In less than half an hour after I had -refused John Dinsmore, I was the affianced bride to be of Mr. Raymond -Challoner, heir prospective to all the Challoner millions. I like him -in his way amazingly; I think he will make a far more fitting mate for -a frivolous girl like me than grave John Dinsmore, had he been worth -the same amount of shining gold.” - -“You have saved us, my dear!” cried Mrs. Trevalyn, dramatically. “You -have saved the time-honored name of the Trevalyns. I can hold up my -head again and breathe freely once more.” - -“Mr. Challoner pressed me hard for an immediate marriage, mamma,” the -daughter went on complacently; “although I told him that it could not -possibly be, and that I intended to have a wedding that should astonish -all New York society by its elaborateness. Marry like a country maid -eloping; ah, no, Queenie Trevalyn must have a magnificent wedding, as -befits the station in which she moves. - -“After some little demurrer on his part, he yielded gracefully to my -wishes. I will see him early to-morrow morning, mamma, and tell him -that I have changed my mind as to the date of our marriage; it is a -lady’s privilege, you know. I will tell him that I am willing that the -ceremony shall take place at once, and I will tell him why.” - -“Have you lost your reason, Queenie?” gasped Mrs. Trevalyn. “If you -tell him that, you may lose him, child!” - -“I think not,” returned Miss Queenie Trevalyn, surveying her rare, -lovely face in the mirror. “I should say that he is far too much in -love with me for that; in fact, I shall make it a test of his love for -me.” - -“I pray it may come out right,” sighed the mother, earnestly; “but if -you would listen to me, and be guided by what I think----” - -“Leave this affair to me, mamma,” cried the imperious young beauty. -“What better test can I have of his love than to tell him of our loss -of fortune--that in a single day we have been swept by the hand of -cruel fate from affluence to pover----” - -“Do not utter the word, Queenie. I cannot bear it!” cut in her mother, -quickly. “It makes me faint!” - -Queenie was headstrong, like all beautiful girls are apt to be, and her -mother knew that there was little use attempting to reason with her. -She would have her own way when once she had made up her mind upon a -course of action, let it cost what it might. - -“I only hope you may not rue the telling of it, my dear,” she sighed. -“My advice is, never to tell your lover anything concerning family -affairs which are of a detrimental nature to you or yours; they will -find out enough after you marry. - -“I thought you were wiser in the ways of the world than most girls, -Queenie; but I see you are not when I hear you talking about -love-tests, and so on. You can take the plunge, if you cannot be -persuaded to hold your silence until after the knot is securely tied; -but mind, I, who am for your good, warn you that I do not think it at -all wise.” - -“I am determined to test, as I have said, the strength and depth of -Raymond Challoner’s love for me, mamma,” she declared. “He is so -desperately infatuated that I can guarantee that he will sign me over -half of his princely fortune on the spot.” - -“I wish I could be as sanguine concerning the matter as you are, my -dear!” sighed Mrs. Trevalyn. “You have made up your mind, and I suppose -I shall have to let it rest at that. I say in conclusion, what a man -does not know concerning your finances will not hurt, nor worry him. -Think twice before you divulge to Mr. Challoner your father’s mad move, -which has plunged us into beggary.” - -“I may think twice concerning it, but I shall arrive at the same -conclusion, I assure you,” replied Queenie. - -For an hour after she sought her own apartment, she stood at the window -looking afar over the white stretch of beach lying cold and white in -the bright moonlight, to the glittering expanse of water beyond. - -“Yes, it was really too bad that John Dinsmore turned out to be poor!” -she sighed. “He had such a noble bearing, and the head of a king, -with a heart as generous, chivalrous and kind as a woman; just such a -man as the heroes were in all the books I have read. I hardly think -that he is the sort of man to do anything rash, because of my refusal -of him--commit suicide, or anything as terrible as that. I could not -say the same thing concerning Ray Challoner. Had I said him nay, I am -confident that he would have kept his word--that they would have found -his body on the sands when the morrow should break, with a bullet wound -in his brain; mutely telling the story of his sad taking off.” - -And the thought of handsome, dashing, debonair Raymond Challoner lying -white and lifeless on the beach, and all for love of her, was a gloomy -picture which she did not care to dwell upon. - -Aside from his enormously reported wealth and splendid appearance, the -fact that every marriageable girl at Newport had been head over heels -in love with him, and would gladly have been his for the asking, had -made him a very desirable _parti_ in Queenie Trevalyn’s covetous eyes. - -In fact, she had been quite live with him until the dark, gloomy, -mysterious stranger, whom Newport had known only as Mr. Dinsmore, came -upon the scene. - -The next morning Queenie heard that Mr. Dinsmore had left the hotel -the night before; none seemed to know whence he had gone; he had -disappeared as suddenly as he had come. - -The fact was, the affair of honor had been kept so profound a secret -that even the hotel people had not learned of it, and would certainly -have kept it to themselves if they had, being too wise to bruit the -sensational story about. - -Raymond Challoner appeared at the breakfast table as bright, smiling -and gay as usual. He had not seen the doctor as yet, to ascertain the -extent of his adversary’s injuries; or, indeed, whether or not his aim -had proven fatal; nor did he allow the little affair to trouble him in -the least. He did not give it a single thought; it had not cost him an -anxious moment, or one hour’s loss of sleep. - -At his plate he found a dainty note from his _fiancée_ awaiting him. -Would he join her on the east veranda at ten, that morning, she asked. -She had something very particular to tell him. - -At ten promptly Raymond Challoner appeared at the place of rendezvous, -smiling and debonair, with a white rose in his buttonhole. - -Queenie Trevalyn was waiting for him at the other end of the veranda, -quite as lovely a picture of girlhood as man’s eyes had ever rested -upon. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. A MAN’S FICKLE HEART. - - - “Do not, as some ungracious rascals do, - Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; - While like a puffed and reckless libertine, - Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads.” - -Yes, a most beautiful picture of lovely girlhood Queenie Trevalyn -appeared in her traveling dress of dove gray, with the crimson rose -nestling in her bosom, and her two bright eyes eager with expectancy as -he approached. - -“Good-morning, my radiant darling!” he cried, availing himself of the -opportunity of addressing her as rapturously as he liked, there being -no one else on the wide, shady veranda; most every one being busy over -the packing of trunks and saying good-by to friends. - -“How am I to thank you for giving me the opportunity of a _tête-à-tête_ -with you, sweet, on this morning of all mornings,” he whispered, -seizing the two little white hands; and, as there was no one about to -witness the gallant, loverlike action, raising them to his lips and -kissing them repeatedly. - -Before she had time to reply, he went on: - -“From the hour we parted last night, sweet, I have done nothing but -think of you; I could not sleep until far into the wee, sma’ hours, for -thinking of you, and wondering over my amazing fortune in winning such -a treasure. And when at last sleep did weigh down my eyelids, my dreams -were full of you--and, oh, such glorious dreams, my angel! I thought we -had just been wedded, and I was bearing you off to some fairy isle----” - -“Did you wish it were a reality, Raymond?” she questioned, interrupting -him with a little tremor in her voice, which was barely audible. - -“How can you ask that, my adored one?” he asked, reproachfully. - -“I--I thought if you really cared so much about it, the--the wedding -might be arranged to take place this morning, as you pleaded so hard -last night that it might.” - -Girl-like, she dropped her eyes in maidenly confusion as she made this -faltering admission. - -If she had but glanced up at that moment, she would have beheld a very -strange expression on the face of the man bending over her. - -Raymond Challoner was wondering if he had heard aright, or if his ears -were playing him false. Was it a trick of mistaken hearing, or did -he hear her say that she would marry him ere she left Newport that -morning? He had expected a hard battle to fight when he asked the -astute, wealthy New York lawyer for his lovely young daughter. - -It was easy to talk to women of his expectations, etc.; but it was -quite another matter to stand before a keen-eyed man of the world, and -explain to his satisfaction what he had to support his daughter with. -The keen lawyer would want positive proof, in the shape of affirmation -from old Mr. Challoner, the wealthy uncle, direct, acknowledging that -it was his intention to make his nephew his sole heir. And no one knew -better than Raymond Challoner that he was as far away from that old -uncle’s millions as was the man in the moon, and he well knew why. - -Queenie’s voice brought back his wandering thoughts. - -“I have something to confide to you, Raymond,” she whispered in a -fluttering voice, “and after you have heard it all, it is for you to -decide if you desire the marriage to take place within the hour, or -think it best to--to wait.” - -As she spoke she drew forth the letter from the pocket of her dress and -opening it, laid it in his hand, remarking: - -“That is the dreadful news which we received from papa last night. It -explains itself. Oh, Raymond, in a few short hours we have been hurled -down from affluence to--to---- Oh, how shall I say it?--to want!” - -He did not even hear her last words. He was so intent upon the perusal -of the old lawyer’s heartbroken letter to his family. - -And as he read a low, incredulous whistle broke from his mustached lips. - -“Lost his fortune! That’s an amazing piece of business!” he cried. “By -George, bad luck seems to follow me like an avenging demon; just as I -am about to grasp a big thing, it invariably crumbles to dust in my -grasp! Still, it’s lucky to find it out in time!” - -A ghastly white overspread the girl’s face. - -“Raymond,” she whispered, “does the loss of my fortune make any -difference to you? Surely, you were not marrying me for that?” - -She spoke in a constrained voice, drawing herself away from his clasp. - -“Nonsense, Queenie!” he returned, impatiently. “You know better than -that, but it is best to look the present unfortunate difficulty -squarely in the face. I am not a very sentimental young man, and I will -tell you the plain truth: I do love you, Queenie, better by far than -any other girl I have ever met, and I would marry you within the hour, -despite the fact of the loss of your fortune, if I could; but the truth -of the matter is, I can’t! - -“You see, it’s this way with me, Queenie,” he went on. “I am the -heir to my uncle’s millions, it is true, but he is the most cranky -individual that ever lived. If I should marry any one short of an -heiress, I have his solemn word for it that he would cut me off; make -a new will, leaving me entirely cut out of it, before the next sun -rose. It’s an ugly hitch, but the hitch is there. I am dependent upon -my uncle, and I dare not go against the old curmudgeon’s wishes, as -unreasonable as they may be.” - -“You desire to break the engagement, then?” she asked in a husky voice, -looking him steadily in the eye. - -Her unnatural calm deceived him; he had expected hysterics at this -juncture, reproaches, possibly a stormy scene. - -His face flushed, and he drew a long breath of relief, telling himself -that he was fortunate that she left everything to him. - -“I have no wish to say farewell forever, Queenie,” he said; “but it -would be selfish to keep you bound to me, and away from every one else -for perhaps long years. For it might be fully that length of time ere -my uncle took a notion to shuffle off this mortal coil. It’s a long -wait, this waiting for dead men’s shoes. - -“Your pretty locks as well as my own might turn gray ere we could see -our way clear to marry. On the whole, I think it would be cruel to -keep you bound by an engagement which might last half a lifetime. I -love you, Queenie, but I will not be selfish. I release you from the -betrothal we entered into last night, though Heaven knows how bitter -it is to say those words--I set you free! You will meet some other man -whom you will learn to love, I dare say, and will rejoice then that we -were both so sensible as to part when we realized that the stern decree -of fate was against us.” - -The young girl stood looking at him with a fixed, steady gaze; she saw -him now as he was, in all his falseness and baseness. - -“Good-by,” she said, mechanically, turning away from him. - -“Let us part as friends, Queenie,” he entreated; but she turned on him -such a look of utter contempt, that whatever else he was intending to -say to her died upon his lips unuttered. - -“Friends,” she retorted; “I scorn you too much to hold you as a friend! -From this hour we are enemies, Mr. Challoner--enemies to the death! You -have insulted my pride, and mark me, the day will come when you will -bitterly rue it!” - -“I could never be an enemy to a fair young girl, let her do what she -might, think of me as she may,” he returned, with mock gallantry; “and -as for your revenge upon me, surely the withdrawing of your sunny face -and smile from my dull existence will be a revenge cruel enough to -satisfy the one most thirsty after vengeance!” - -With one last look, the strangeness of which he never forgot, she -turned, and with head proudly erect, walked with haughty step down the -length of the cool, shady veranda, and disappeared through the arched -doorway. - -Raymond Challoner gazed after her with a strange expression on his -usually placid countenance, as he remarked to himself: - -“It’s a very disagreeable procedure. I hope she won’t do anything -desperate. Those high-spirited girls are apt to kill themselves, or -something else equally as terrible. She’s tremendously in love with me, -poor little girl; and it’s flattering, but not at all pleasant under -the circumstances.” - -Queenie Trevalyn walked straight up to her own room with the same -proud, measured step. - -Her mother, with a newspaper in her hand, was awaiting her in some -trepidation. Her keen instinct told her as soon as she beheld her -daughter’s marble-white face that in this instance surely the course of -true love had not run smooth. Had it been as she feared, had the young -man not received the story of her father’s failure kindly? - -Without waiting for her mother to speak, Queenie announced, briefly: - -“It’s all over between us, mamma; you are right, and I was wrong. It -was my fortune that Raymond Challoner wanted, not me! So we parted!” - -A shriek from her mother interrupted the recital of what took place. - -“And it was for him that you threw over Mr. John Dinsmore!” groaned -Mrs. Trevalyn, adding: “Just read that, Queenie! Oh, oh, oh!” - -Mechanically the girl took the paper from her; the startling headlines -on the first column on which her eyes fell told her of the wonderful -news: - -A fortune estimated at over three millions of dollars had come to John -Dinsmore, the author, through the death of a relative, a London banker -of note. - -Without waiting for her daughter to read the column through, Mrs. -Trevalyn cried, excitedly: - -“You must recall him, Queenie; indeed you must, my love!” - -“It is too late now, mother,” answered Miss Trevalyn, bitterly. “He has -gone, left the hotel and Newport last night, so I heard some one remark -at the breakfast table this morning.” - -Mrs. Trevalyn went promptly into hysterics, and then fainted outright. - -Queenie uttered no moan, not even a cry. - -“Poor mamma,” she groaned, “it would be almost better if life ended for -her here and now, rather than live to face the future before us!” - -In that moment Queenie Trevalyn knew the truth, whatever of love her -shallow heart had been capable of feeling, had gone out to the man -whose heart the cold hand of her ambition had thrust from her forever. -And she had turned from him in such scorn and anger--that was the -crudest remembrance of all! But for that she might have recalled -him; for the heir of such a fortune could not long hide himself in -obscurity. But would he ever forgive her for casting him aside so -lightly? - -“He loved me--and with such a man, to love once is to love forever!” -she told herself, and this thought buoyed up her flagging spirits. - -“Yes, I will reclaim him,” she ruminated, pressing her hands closely -together over her throbbing heart. “He will never know about Ray -Challoner, or his proposal. I will tell him a young girl’s ‘no’ always -yields to ‘yes,’ if the wooer is persistent. Yes, I will win him back, -and thus avert the poverty that stares us in the face. Of course he -has gone directly back to New York, to the address mentioned in this -newspaper article.” - -And to this address Queenie Trevalyn sent the following telegram: - -“Love has conquered pride and anger, and I would call you back again.” - -“That will bring him back to Newport by the next train,” she told -herself, sitting down by the window to peruse the wonderful newspaper -account for the twentieth time. - -Strangely enough, no mention was made in the article of the condition -attached to the will, that he must wed the girl of his uncle’s choosing. - -Meanwhile, Mrs. Trevalyn seemed to grow alarmingly worse, much to the -annoyance of the hotel management. - -By some means they learned of the failure of the lady’s husband in New -York, and their suave courtesy to the late magnate’s wife and daughter -changed into positive brusqueness, as they declared to Miss Trevalyn -that she would have to remove her mother at once from the Ocean House -to some private boarding house, as it was imperative that they should -close the hotel by noon. - -They condescended, however, to give Queenie a note to a trained nurse, -a Mrs. Brent, suggesting that she would in all probability receive her -mother and self for a few days, until Mrs. Trevalyn was able to return -to New York. - -And thither, letter in hand, Queenie turned her steps, murmuring to -herself: - -“Ah, me! How strange are the tricks fate plays upon us!” little -dreaming as she uttered the words of the thrilling event about to -transpire. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. A DREAD ALTERNATIVE. - - - “He said, ‘I never can forgive - A wrong so darkly done; - Nor will I ever, as I live, - Regard the faithless one - As erst mine own familiar friend, - Whose fealty was my boast. - Yes, those on whom we most depend - Have power to wound us most.’” - -Miss Trevalyn lost no time in applying to the nurse, Mrs. Brent, for -admission for her mother and herself for a few days beneath her humble -roof; but in this instance fate was unkind to the young lady. Mrs. -Brent had no room to spare, she was informed. She returned to the hotel -greatly upset, wondering what on earth was to be done now. - -As she opened the door of their room, Mrs. Trevalyn flew toward her -laughing and crying hysterically by turns. - -“We shall not remain in Newport another hour, my love!” she cried. -“See, here is another letter from your father, and it has put new life -into me. Read it, Queenie.” - -There were but a few hurried lines this time, and to the effect that -his business troubles had been staved off for a period of three months, -and that they could therefore return home without any one being the -wiser, at present, of the horrible black cloud which hung over their -heads. - -“Three months’ respite, Queenie!” exclaimed Mrs. Trevalyn, clasping -and unclasping her bracelets, laughing and crying in the same breath. -“Heaven knows what may take place in that length of time; probably you -will have made up with the rich Mr. Dinsmore, and--and be married to -him; and then we will be saved. Even if you should fail with him,” she -went on, plaintively, “there is the old Widower Brown----” - -“Stop, mother!” cried Queenie Trevalyn, a shudder of horror passing -over her slender frame. “I love wealth and position dearly, but I would -rather die on the street from starvation than marry a man whom I detest -as thoroughly as Hiram Brown, octogenarian, miser, hunchback, and -pawnbroker.” - -As she uttered the words there arose before her mental vision the image -of the creature whom her words had described--a shriveled, toothless, -horrible being in the shape of a man, who had actually had the audacity -to apply to her father for an introduction to his beautiful daughter, -“with a view to matrimony,” as his terse communication phrased his -intentions. - -Mr. Trevalyn had put him off with a plausible excuse for not granting -his request at the time; but he dared not openly refuse to permit Hiram -Brown the meeting with his daughter which he so ardently desired, some -time in the future; for the old money-lender held many of his notes, -and he told himself discretion in the matter was certainly diplomacy -upon his part. - -“Let the matter rest until Queenie and her mother return from their -summer outing at Newport,” Mr. Trevalyn had said, “and then I shall be -pleased to present you to my daughter, Mr. Brown.” - -“What if the girl takes it into her head to fall in love with any of -those young bloods there?” the miser had said, in his high-pitched, -querulous tones. - -“There is not the least fear of that, my dear Brown,” Mr. Trevalyn had -declared. “Queenie is only twenty, you know; she won’t be thinking of -love or lovers yet, I assure you. She simply accompanies her mother -there, who goes for her health.” - -But in his secret heart Mr. Trevalyn was only too anxious that his -peerless young daughter should capture a wealthy young husband, and -save the family from the ruin which he even then saw ahead of them; -then he could laugh in old Brown’s face, and defy him to do his worst. - -He had been rather sorry that he had confided old Brown’s ambitions -to Queenie and her mother, for the latter ever afterward was wont to -declare that Queenie could fall back upon the hunchback miser, rather -than not marry at all, much to the girl’s disgust, and just anger. - -“You have a right to think of your poor mother, even though you do not -care for yourself or your father, Queenie,” exclaimed Mrs. Trevalyn, -hysterically. “Brown is rich, and that covers a multitude of failings.” - -There was something so utterly heartless in this speech, that the -girl’s heart sank within her. Since her encounter with Ray Challoner, -all her worldliness had disappeared, and she had learned life’s -sweetest lesson, that it is Love that rules, and that, unless the lover -whom she had sent from her for false Ray Challoner’s sake returned to -her, the future would not be worth living to her. - -Then and there she said to herself that she would win back John -Dinsmore, and wed him, or go unwedded to the grave. - -She had just discovered his worth, as well as the fact that she loved -him with all the passionate love of her heart--and would love him to -the end of her life. - -It was wonderful how Mrs. Trevalyn recovered after the receipt of -that letter, and announced herself quite well enough to take the next -outgoing train, and insisted upon doing so, much to Queenie’s relief. - -As the New York express moved out of the Newport depot, Queenie -Trevalyn little dreamed that she was leaving all that she held dear -behind her. - -All the way back to the metropolis her thoughts were upon the lover for -whom she now yearned so eagerly. - -She was glad that she had had the forethought to put her New York -address upon the note she had written him--recalling him; and she did -not doubt that he would call upon her quite as soon as she reached -home. Indeed, she expected to find a letter from him awaiting her -there, and it was with almost feverish eagerness that she counted the -miles as the train sped homeward. - -There was the usual number of epistles from girl friends and -acquaintances, but the one she longed for most was not among them. - -“He will be sure to come this evening in person, and that is far better -than writing,” thought the girl, ordering the servants to unpack her -trunks at once. - -There were several callers, for the beauty of Newport was a favorite in -New York society; but the evening was spoiled for Queenie Trevalyn when -John Dinsmore was not among them. - -And when a week passed, and there was no sign, no word from him, she -began to lose heart altogether. - -“I have offended him past all forgiving,” she would cry out to herself, -in the solitude of her own room; and she would have given all that she -held dearest in life, could she have lived over that half hour on the -sands at Newport, with that eager, adoring lover at her side, holding -her hands clasped closely in his, pouring into her ears the story of -his love for her. - -Ah, could she live it over again, how different would be her answer! - -She had humbled her pride in recalling him, and now he was treating her -with ignominious silence. She knew that her heart should have rebelled -with the fiercest anger against him for treating her thus; but love -conquered pride and anger, all that she ardently hoped for was to meet -him once again. - -When a fortnight had elapsed, and as yet no word was heard from Mr. -John Dinsmore, Mrs. Trevalyn began to renew her entreaties with her -daughter to allow Hiram Brown to be presented to her, that he might -cease his persistent importunings, not to say threatenings, with her -father. - -“Wait just a little while longer, mamma,” pleaded Queenie, anxiously. - -“Well, we will give your Mr. Dinsmore another week in which to show -up, and if we do not hear from him in that time, and no other eligible -man puts in an appearance, you must accept the introduction to Hiram -Brown,” declared Mrs. Trevalyn, energetically. “Time is fleeting, we -have been home already three weeks, and have but eight or nine weeks -left ere we are out of house and home.” - -Misfortune had not improved Mrs. Trevalyn’s temper, and from a -plaintive, complaining woman, she had developed into a perfect virago, -when she stopped to consider the precipice which they were nearing day -by day, and Queenie had to stand the brunt of it, and it was the same -old query day after day: - -“When are you going to allow Mr. Brown to be introduced to you?” and -Queenie, in sheer desperation at length, answered wearily: - -“I don’t know. If it must be, it might as well be gotten over soon as -late!” - -After that concession on her daughter’s part, Mrs. Trevalyn became more -amiable, she did not know that Queenie had resolved to die rather than -marry him, if they persisted in pressing her to that point. - -“You are becoming sensible at last, my love,” said Mrs. Trevalyn, with -a beaming smile. Adding: “The woman who marries old Hiram Brown may -consider herself very fortunate. He has no end of millions, as every -one knows, and his wife can fairly roll in diamonds and point lace, and -all the luxuries of a magnificent establishment. He is old, and cannot -last many more years, and then his widow would be the most admired, -courted and envied woman in all New York.” - -“For Heaven’s sake say no more, mamma!” cried the girl, bitterly. -“I cannot endure the thought of marrying Hiram Brown; why, the very -mention of his name, which calls up his image before me, makes me -almost swoon with horror and disgust!” - -“You ought to be grateful and thankful for your good fortune, instead -of railing at it!” declared Mrs. Trevalyn, energetically. “Think how -many young girls of our set would envy you, if you were to become the -wife of so wealthy a man!” - -“You mean they would pity me!” cried Queenie, curling her lip -scornfully; “for they would know that I had been bartered body and soul -for hollow gold. It is positive that no one would dream of calling it a -love match, mamma.” - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. WHAT IS LIFE WITHOUT LOVE? - - - “How does a woman love? Once, no more, - Though life forever its loss deplore. - Deep in sorrow, or want, or sin, - One king reigneth her heart within; - One alone by night and day, - Moves her spirit to curse or pray. - Though loves beset her and friends deride; - Yea, when she smileth another’s bride; - Still for her love her heart makes moan. - To love once is forever, and once alone!” - -“I do hope, Queenie, that you are not commencing to grow sentimental!” -cried Mrs. Trevalyn, holding up her hands as though the very idea was a -blow which she was warding off. - -“Would such a state of affairs surprise you very much, mamma?” retorted -the girl, cresting her head defiantly. “Youth is the age of romance, of -joy, and--and the mating of true hearts.” - -“Youth is the age of nonsense!” retorted her mother, spiritedly. “If -I had been romantic instead of sensible when I was your age, Queenie, -I should have had a sorry enough life of it. I say then, young as I -was, that it was wealth that ruled the world, and not love. Why, I -threw over a handsome young doctor, whose only wealth was his brains, -for your father, who was accounted at that time the best catch of the -season at Newport.” - -“And you married my father for his money, while your heart was the -young doctor’s?” queried Queenie, gravely. - -“That was the way of it,” assented her mother, coolly; though she had -the grace to flush a little under her daughter’s gaze. - -“Then I do not wonder that Heaven punished you by causing the man you -wedded for his wealth to lose it, at the time in your life when you -needed it most; though it is hard lines for poor papa!” - -“It is not for you to sit in judgment upon my actions!” cried Mrs. -Trevalyn, angrily. “I won’t tolerate it. I knew what I was doing. Money -is best.” - -“Love is best!” murmured Queenie, “and without it, all the wealth of -the world is but dross,” and, as she uttered the words, her thoughts -flew back to the lover whom she had left on the white sands, ere she -had been taught that pitiful lesson, and she walked slowly from the -room. Her mother watched her with darkening brows. - -“I thought I had brought that girl up to be sensible,” she ruminated; -“but I find she is as foolish as the general run of girls. One thing -is certain, she must marry rich, and such a marriage cannot take place -too soon for my peace of mind! How quickly time flies; we have been -home from Newport over a month now, and as yet Hiram Brown is the only -wealthy suitor who has come forward for Queenie’s hand. The girl has -changed, every one notices that; and all on account of that audacious -fellow who dared to make love to her at Newport without so much as a -dollar in his pocket. He has caught her heart in the rebound, it would -seem. One never knows the true inwardness of a girl’s heart, anyway. - -“Of course, now that he is rich I would be glad enough to have him -for a son-in-law; but his pride was cut too deeply when she sent him -from her, ever to return to her again, and I now shrewdly suspect that -Queenie is breaking her foolish heart in secret over it. And to make -the matter worse, that book of his has taken the public like wildfire, -and every one is talking of him now. He is not only rich, but famous, -and could get his pick of all the society girls in New York, they’re -so given up to hero worship. And in their eyes the handsome author of -‘Life as We Find It’ really is a hero. - -“But Queenie must not waste her time grieving over him. I must stop -that nonsense, and at once; and the best way to accomplish that is to -hasten Hiram Brown’s proposal--and her acceptance.” - -And thus she settled the matter in her own mind. - -To Queenie the continued silence of John Dinsmore was almost -intolerable, but woman-like, her love for him grew under his seeming -indifference and neglect, instead of abating. - -When the book from which he had hoped so much, and of which he had told -her, was launched upon the tide, and instantly met with public favor, -and it began to be spoken of everywhere, no one was prouder of it than -Queenie. - -She longed to say to her girl friends: - -“The man who wrote it loves me, and asked me to be his wife,” then it -suddenly dawned upon her that his love had been but transitory, he no -longer loved her, or he would have returned to her at her bidding, and -that thought was bitter as death to the proud heart of the girl, who -now loved him with so mad and passionate a love. - -Meanwhile, the object of her thoughts was still at the Brent cottage, -at the now deserted Newport, valiantly fighting his way back to life -from the very brink of eternity. - -He had had a close call, but his grand physique conquered, and death, -which he so longed for, would not come to him then, and he was forced, -against his most earnest desires, to take up the tangled thread of life -again, and weave it out to the end. - -His friends, Hazard Ballou and Jerry Gaines, spent every available hour -that they could with him, when it was possible to run up to Newport. - -It was they who first carried to him the news of the wonderful success -of his book. - -To their surprise he turned his head wearily away, asking them to -desist from the telling until another time, for he thought he could -sleep. They looked at him, then at each other, in blank amazement. Did -ever a man take wonderful tidings like this in such a manner before, -they queried; and they could not help reproving him on his want of -interest in his wonderful success, which would mean a fortune to him. - -John Dinsmore turned his head wearily on his pillow. - -“Success and wealth have come to me too late!” he said, bitterly. “A -month ago I would have gone frantic, I think, at such intelligence; -now--well, I can only repeat that, like my uncle’s fortune, it has come -to me too late, boys--too late!” - -“Ah, by the way,” cried Jerry Gaines, “speaking of your uncle’s fortune -reminds me of a letter I have in my pocket for you, which came to your -New York address, and instead of forwarding it, waited and brought it, -delaying the delivery of it but a day.” - -“If you will read it, and tell me the contents of it, I shall be -obliged to you,” said John, wearily. - -“By George, now that I come to remember it, there were two letters for -you which I slipped into my pocket, and now, as I live, I can find but -one of them,” declared Jerry Gaines, much perturbed. - -“Do not trouble over it, Jerry,” said Dinsmore. “If it relates to -anything of the least consequence, the writer will be sure to write -again.” - -“You are kind to find pardon for me,” returned Gaines, adding, -ruefully: “I shall never forgive myself for not taking better care of -your mail, old fellow, if it turns out that I have mislaid something of -importance to you.” - -The truth was, fate had taken charge of the letter in question, which -was the one from Queenie Trevalyn, recalling him, by causing it to slip -through the torn lining of the young reporter’s pocket, to be found -protruding through the black lining of that self-same coat many a long -day later. - -Jerry Gaines attended to the commission of opening the remaining -letter mechanically, and as he drew the folded sheet of paper from -the envelope, lo! a photograph rolled forth from it--the portrait of -a very youthful, but a very lovely slip of a girl, and penciled in a -scrawling, irregular, schoolgirl hand, was the name Jess, simply that -and no more. - -He handed the photograph to Dinsmore, while Ballou, with the freedom -of an old friend, got up, and coming close to the bedside, looked -curiously over John’s shoulder. - -“If this is the writer of the letter, she is certainly a stranger to -me,” remarked Dinsmore, slowly, studying curiously the lovely face -laughing up at him, for the picture represented a girl, not smiling -after the usual fashion, but, indeed, laughing heartily, and with all -her might, straight into your eyes, and challenging an amused smile in -return from even the gravest lips. - -She could not be over fifteen or sixteen. The oval face, with its -every dimple displayed, was bewitching, with every promise of future -beauty with a year or two added to the girl’s years. - -The eyes were dark, and deliciously roguish in expression, and she wore -the hair which covered the shapely little head in a long braid, tied -with a ribbon, wherever the curling tendrils could be ensnared from -their persistent effort to break into tiny little curls running riot -over the white brow and neck; but the teeth disclosed by that laughing -little mouth--were ever teeth so small and white and altogether -faultless? - -“A lovely girl!” said Hazard Ballou, examining the pictured face with -the critical eye of an artist. - -“What has this pretty creature to say to me?” said John Dinsmore, -breaking through the apathy which had been wrapped about him like a -mantle up to the present moment. - -“The best way to inform you is to read her letter to you,” remarked -Gaines, laconically, quite as curious as the recipient to know the -import of the missive; for four years of life as a reporter on a daily -newspaper, in the metropolis, had stimulated his bump of curiosity, and -he was always in the habit of gratifying it, and ever on the lookout -for anything which savored of a sensation or a mystery. - -“Whew!” he broke forth, whistling as his eyes encountered the first -line. “By George, it’s the little Louisiana heiress whom your uncle -has decided you must wed to become his heir--the girl around whom his -fortune is tied, the string to his inheritance, as you phrased it when -we first told you about your uncle’s strange will, Dinsmore.” - -“I wouldn’t have to think twice in a case like that!” declared Hazard -Ballou, still thoughtfully and gravely admiring the pictured, merry, -laughing, girlish young face. - -“Nor I!” said Jerry Gaines, his whole heart in his eyes. Adding: -“Hang it, how can you be so indifferent, you lucky dog?” turning upon -Dinsmore excitedly. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. “A LITTLE ROUGH DIAMOND.” - - - “If love should come again, I ask my heart, - In tender tremors not unmixed with pain, - Couldst thou be calm, nor feel the past mad smart, - If love should come again? - - “In vain I ask. My heart makes no reply, - But echoes evermore the sweet refrain, - Till, trembling lest it seem a wish, I sigh, - If love should come again!” - -“How can a man be so infernally indifferent to so much youth, beauty -and innocence?” repeated Jerry Gaines, enthusiastically. “Upon my word, -I marvel that you are not jubilant over the prospect fate holds out to -you--you are ungrateful, old boy!” - -Neither one of his comrades saw the look of pain that gathered for an -instant in John Dinsmore’s eyes, nor did they see the mobile lips under -the heavy mustache quiver for an instant, then draw themselves firmly -into a terse straight line. - -How could he, whose whole heart’s affection had been wasted on the -fairest of womankind, look with anything save distrust, nor to say, -hatred, on the whole sex, he told himself with a bitter sigh, which he -carefully repressed ere it fell from his white lips. - -“Love and marriage are not for me, boys--you both know that,” he -retorted, addressing his words to both his companions. “I shall never -love, consequently, never marry,” he said, slowly and earnestly. - -“Every fellow says that until he meets the right girl,” declared the -artist, his eyes still fastened upon that lovely pictured face laughing -up at him. - -“Every one save reporters,” laughed Gaines, “and their failure to wed -is because no sweet girl in her senses would agree to have one of -them if she stops to consider the question of bread and butter,” he -declared, breaking into a rollicking tune of “How Lonely the Life of a -Bachelor Is.” - -“I beg pardon for this digression, old fellow,” he cried, catching up -the letter. “Now for letting you know what Mademoiselle Jess has to say -to you--in haste--as the lower left hand of the envelope is marked, and -underlined with a grand flourish.” - -The quaint letter, so characteristic of the girl who had written it, -ran as follows: - - “To MR. JOHN DINSMORE, New York City: - - “DEAR MR. DINSMORE: No one knows that I am writing to you, or I - should never in the world be allowed to send it. I suppose you are - wondering who I am. Well, I am Jess--just Jess. - - “I was up in the big apple tree in the orchard when the lawyer from - the city came out here, and he not knowing I was up there, sat down - on the bench beneath it and told Mrs. Bryson, the housekeeper, of the - wonderful will which he said had just been forwarded to him to attend - to, by somebody, I forget who; and in it--the will I mean--I was to - be a great heiress--the greatest in all Louisiana--if you would marry - me, and if you wouldn’t, the plantation and all the estate were to be - sold, and the money sent to the heathen Chinese, and I was to go out - into the world a beggar, as well as yourself, or be a governess, or - nursery maid, or kitchen maid maybe. - - “I don’t know whether it would be nice or not to marry anybody, but - I’d rather a million times do that than leave the old plantation, - where I know every tree and leaf, and even the wild birds that come - and go each season. - - “I heard the lawyer say that he had his doubts about whether you - would like me or not, and perhaps you’d flatly refuse to comply with - your uncle’s will when you saw me, for I was so thin and brown, and - then my hair was like a tangled mane and looked for all the world, - always, as though a comb had never been put to it, and then--a pretty - figure I cut in always running about barefoot--though I am within a - few days of being sixteen. I wish so much that you would come here - and take a look at me, to see if it would be quite convenient for you - to marry me, so that I can stay here forever and ever. - - “But for fear you haven’t time, or something like that, I will send - you my picture that you can see if I will suit. It was taken by a - traveling photographer who came to take pictures of the old place for - a magazine, and he didn’t charge me anything for it--I couldn’t have - taken it if he had. He said, ‘Look pleasant, please,’ which made me - laugh so that the picture was spoiled, he said; but indeed, though, - I tried over and over again, I couldn’t help laughing to save my - life. I never dared show the picture to Mrs. Bryson, for she would - have been sure to have raised a terrible time with me for getting it - took--taken, I mean. Please answer as soon as you get this, if you - will come. Write it to Mrs. Bryson, but don’t put in even a hint that - I asked you to, or sent the picture, or I would get punished. JESS.” - -It was little wonder that this straightforward letter, direct from the -simple, innocent, girlish heart of the writer, should touch the three -masculine hearts most profoundly. - -Even John Dinsmore could not help the smile of amusement that came to -his lips with the hearing of the first sentence, broadening into a -hearty laugh at the conclusion. - -“A little rough diamond!” commented Ballou, in a low voice. - -“A treasure which almost any man would be proud to win,” added Jerry -Gaines. - -Then, suddenly, he laid his hand on his friend’s arm, saying: - -“Why don’t you take a run down to Louisiana, and look over the ground, -and the little maid as well, and then you will be better able to judge -whether or not you can afford to throw away the splendid offering which -the gods have flung in your way.” - -John shook his head. - -“I shall never marry,” he reiterated, “why, then, should I bother about -the inheritance which is based upon that contingency? And furthermore, -I would be inhuman to take advantage of such a child as this letter -shows the girl to be, by tying her to so bitter a fate as being wedded -to a man whose only object in marrying her was to secure a fortune. My -friends, I am made of different material from that. Of all classes -of men, I most despise a fortune hunter--a trader on a woman’s heart! -There is something sacrilegious, horrible to me, in the thought.” - -“There will not be the least bit of harm in taking a trip down there, -at least,” urged Jerry Gaines. “That will not necessarily oblige you to -marry against your desire, I’m sure.” - -Hazard Ballou heartily coincided in this opinion, and between them they -were so persistent that he should pursue this course that at last, for -the sake of peace, John Dinsmore promised to take the trip, especially -as his doctor had suggested that when he was able to leave Newport he -should take a trip South, to some mild climate, where his recuperation -would be complete. - -Neither Ballou nor Gaines would be satisfied until he had answered the -child’s letter, as they termed Jess. - -When he had gotten as far as addressing it, he was met by the fact that -Jess had asked him to communicate his response to Mrs. Bryson, instead -of herself; therefore he sent the following brief epistle to that -worthy woman, whom he remembered, though very indistinctly, as having -seen when he was taken on a visit to Blackheath Hall, as the place was -called, many years ago, when he was a small lad of five years. - -“It makes me feel rather ancient to remember that that was a quarter of -a century ago,” he remarked, with a smile, as he looked over the brief -epistle, which ran as follows: - - “To MRS. BRYSON, Blackheath Hall, Greenville, Louisiana: - - “MY DEAR MADAM: After many years, I shall be again in your vicinity - within the course of a fortnight. May I hope that your hospitality - may be extended to me for a few days; I promise not to trespass upon - you longer than that. - - “With best wishes for the welfare of yourself and all the inmates of - Blackheath Hall, I remain, - - “Yours very truly, - - “JOHN DINSMORE.” - -“Short, but to the point,” remarked Jerry Gaines, as John handed it to -him wearily to fold up and place in the envelope. - -An hour later the letter was duly on its way toward the sunny South, -where it was destined to create such havoc in the old Louisiana home. - -“It is best that I should travel about for a little while, at least,” -ruminated John Dinsmore, long after his tried and true friends had left -him; “for the reason that my soul is filled with such bitter unrest -that I will find bearing the burden of life more and more intolerable -as the weeks roll on. - -“Nearly a month has passed, and in a few short weeks more Ray Challoner -will lead the only girl I shall ever love to the altar, for I heard her -promise to be his bride two months from that day. Those were the cruel -words which broke my heart as I listened to them, unable to speak or -move, or make my presence known on the other side of those broad palms -which screened me from my faithless idol’s sight. - -“When the marriage occurs, I want to be so far away that no -intelligence of it can reach me; for God knows, strong man though I am, -I think I should go mad to hear or read of it. - -“Heaven pity a man who loves a girl as I have loved, and always will -love, Queenie Trevalyn. - -“God! why were women made so beautiful, to ensnare the hearts of men, -only to cast them aside as playthings of the hour? - -“I know her to be a frivolous coquette, a girl without a soul, a girl -who loves wealth above everything else earthly; but for all that I -worship her still, and her image will be enshrined in my heart until -the breath leaves my body, and death ends it all.” - -And as he uttered the words he meant every one of them, little knowing -what fate had in store for him, and it was well that he did not. - -A week later John Dinsmore set out on his Southern journey, his two -friends accompanying him to the train to see him off. - -They would not have said “good-by” so cheerfully, had they known all -that was to happen ere they beheld his face again--ay, they would have -held him back at any cost. - - - - -CHAPTER X. AFTER THIRTEEN YEARS. - - - “It is so wide, this great world vaulted o’er - By the blue sky clasping dark shore to shore, - It is too wide--it is too wide for me! - Would God that it were narrowed to a grave, - And I slept quiet, naught hid with me save - The love that was too great--too great for me.” - -That brief letter from John Dinsmore created no end of excitement at -Blackheath Hall. After an absence of five-and-twenty years the heir, -whom she well remembered as a handsome, high-spirited, blue-eyed lad, -was coming home at last. - -All the old family servants were startled out of the lethargy into -which they had fallen during the long years since a master had been at -the old hall to rule them--most of them but barely recalled the owner, -Mr. George Dinsmore, a bachelor, and the most extensive plantation -owner in all Louisiana. - -Mrs. Bryson, the housekeeper, well remembered a day when he called her -to his study and said: “I am going away on a journey. I may return in -a month, or it may be a year; perhaps even longer. During my absence, -though it be long or short, I want everything at the old plantation to -go on the same--you understand?” - -The good woman courtesied, and answered: “Everything shall go on the -same, sir, though you may be away weeks, months, or years.” - -Thus he took his departure, and no one knew his destination. - -It was five long years ere Mrs. Bryson heard from the master of -Blackheath Hall. At that time she received a letter from him bearing -the foreign postmark of London. - -After giving minute directions concerning the plantation, the letter -wound up with this singular postscript: - -“My nephew--who will one day be my heir, presumably--together with his -tutor, will be at Blackheath Hall for a short stay. I leave it to you -to make their stay as pleasant as possible.” - -Mrs. Bryson carried out her master’s wishes to the letter. When the -English tutor and the little lad arrived the hospitable doors of -Blackheath Hall were thrown open wide to welcome them. - -During their short stay they saw but little of the tutor, for he kept -to himself much of the time, rarely joining them save at meal times, -and even then he had little to say, as though understanding intuitively -that they would like to question him as to the identity of the lad--for -they knew nothing whatever of the family history of their master, what -relatives he had, or where they resided. - -Some of the servants began to ply the lad with questions on the first -day of his arrival when they had him alone, but they were effectually -silenced by the boy replying: - -“I will go and ask my tutor and find out for you, telling him that you -wish to know.” - -They stopped him short, covered with confusion. And after that -experience, in which they were ignominiously prevented from satisfying -their curiosity, they made no attempt to question the boy, and he rode -the fat, sleek horses at a mad, breakneck gallop, bareback, down the -lane, chased the young lambs over the meadow, and pulled ruthlessly the -long, slender leaves of the tobacco plants to his heart’s content. - -During the short time of his stay beneath that roof every one, from -the housekeeper down, loved the gay, rollicking lad who was so full of -life and spirit and boyish pranks; and they were sorry enough when the -tutor announced that their stay at Blackheath Hall had come to an end, -and sorrier still when they saw the lad, who had been the life of the -house, ride away--and they always carried the memory in their hearts of -how he turned and kissed his little hand to them when he reached the -brow of the hill, ere he was lost completely to their sight. - -Then, once again, after this short break in their lives, everything -settled down to the same dull, monotonous routine at Blackheath Hall--a -monotony which was not broken for full many a year. During this time -the master of the plantation still continued to reside abroad, giving -not the slightest hint or explanation to his wondering household as to -the why or wherefore of his strange action. - -Thirteen years more rolled slowly by, then came the second break in the -dull life of the inmates of the old hall. A second letter was received -from the master, this time bearing the postmark of far off Egypt, and -announcing that by the time they received his letter a child would be -sent to them, who was to make her home at the hall--her name was--Jess. - -That was all the information the letter contained. There was not -even a word as to what position the child was to occupy in the -household--whether she was to be reared to take the place of one of the -servants when they should be incapacitated by old age from work, or was -to be looked upon as a _protégée_ of the master. - -In due time the child arrived--an elfish little creature she was--in -charge of a woman, a foreigner, who understood no English. - -She made no stop whatever, delivering the little one to the inmates of -Blackheath Hall and departing immediately, without even partaking of -the refreshments which they would have pressed upon her. - -They could understand but one thing; she called the little one -Jess--just that and nothing more. When they asked her for the little -one’s other name, she maintained by motions that she could not -comprehend their question. - -Perhaps this was true, or it might have been feigned; at any rate, she -made all haste from the place, seemingly heartily glad to be rid of her -charge. - -In Mrs. Bryson’s opinion, the woman was a French maid--and the child -bore such a striking resemblance to her that almost every member of the -household remarked it. - -Little Jess seemed to take kindly enough to her surroundings. She grew -and thrived like a weed, springing up much after the fashion of that -uncultivated plant. - -She was allowed to roam about as she would--bare of foot and -hatless--the great mane of curling hair with which nature had provided -her being her only head-covering--lithe and graceful as a young fawn in -her brown linsey gown, which barely reached the slender, brown ankles. - -Jess was a child of nature--she would have known little enough of -books, and cared still less, had not the servants taken pity on her -and taught her to read and write, which was quite as much as they knew -themselves. - -The master of Blackheath Hall never wrote again to ask about the little -waif. Except for the brief mention he had made that she was to find -shelter beneath his roof, he seemed to forget her entirely. - -Therefore the shock of the lawyer’s coming, with the sad notice of Mr. -George Dinsmore’s death, and the will--which was very much stranger -still--giving his nephew his entire fortune if he took with it Little -Jess--cutting him off entirely if he failed to do so, and cutting the -girl off, as well, if she failed to secure his nephew, John Dinsmore, -for her husband--was the most mystifying surprise they had ever had. - -“It is useless to hope that a fastidious gentleman who has traveled -half over the world--as has Mr. John Dinsmore--would take to a wild, -half-tamed creature like Jess,” Mrs. Bryson said, despairingly, and her -heart misgave her that she had not troubled herself to look after the -girl better during the years which had come and gone so swiftly. If her -late master’s plans miscarried, she felt in a vague way that the fault -would lie at her door for not looking after the girl better, and making -her more of a lady, instead of a lovely little hoydenish savage who -would have her own way and knew no will save her own. - -For days at a time Jess had been in the habit of wandering about where -fancy willed, and no one took the pains to inquire into her coming or -going--whether she was in the house or out of it; if she fell asleep -from fatigue amid the long grass under the trees when night overtook -her, or if she were in her own little room in the servants’ quarters -under the eaves. - -The mistake of years could not be rectified in a day. Mrs. Bryson -realized that, and felt, in consequence, deep concern. - -For the first time in her life, after the lawyer’s visit, she searched -for Jess. Through the house and over all the grounds she went, but -there were no signs of her. - -Jess was like a wild bird ever on the wing; no one knew where she was -likely to alight. - -Mrs. Bryson was most anxious to have a long and earnest talk with the -girl. It never occurred to her for a moment that the girl was evading -her for that very reason--that she had heard her tell the lawyer that -she meant to have a long and serious talk at once with Jess--but from -that hour Jess was nowhere to be found. - -It never occurred to the good woman to look up into the magnolia trees -which she passed a score of times in her vain search for the girl. - -The letter which was received at Blackheath Hall, announcing that the -heir would soon arrive there, put Mrs. Bryson in a great state of -trepidation. Jess must be found, told the truth and be made to realize -that she was to appear before the strange gentleman who was coming, as -a young girl of refinement--not a wild, barefooted savage who would not -only shock, but horrify him, and shatter at once his uncle’s plans of -marriage between them. - -Clothes would have to be made in a hurry, and lessons given her in -deportment; and she would have to be made to understand that her -sweetness of demeanor, her behavior and conversational powers would -mean wealth or beggary to her. - -Every member of the household was sent out in search of the girl, but -it was all to no purpose. - -Not one of them once dreamed that Jess, up in the tree, was fairly -convulsed with laughter at the annoyance she was causing them. She knew -their plans, for she heard them discuss them freely as they hurried -along, and then and there she determined that she would not take a -single step out of her way to please the fastidious heir of Blackheath -Hall. It was a matter of little concern to the girl whether he liked -her or not. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. REBUKED BY A GIRL. - - -At this critical point of our story it is necessary that we should -return for a brief space to Raymond Challoner, whom we left still at -Newport, though the Ocean House was just about closing for the season. - -He had not put in an appearance when Queenie Trevalyn and her mother -drove to the depot--not even to say good-by to the girl to whom he had -been such a devoted lover for the whole season. With the loss of her -fortune his interest waned. He did not get up from his comfortable -chair as the hotel ’bus whirled past the door, with the girl and her -mother as passengers, to take even a last look at the beauty of the -season. - -“Good-by, sweetheart, good-by!” he murmured, with a grim laugh, as -he lighted a fresh Havana--then he proceeded forthwith to forget the -Queenie Trevalyn romance and to look forward to conquests in pastures -new. - -He was terribly short of funds, and concluded that, under the present -condition of affairs, he could not afford to settle his board bill just -yet. Consequently, when the clerk of the hostelry sent up to the young -millionaire’s apartments for the trifling amount which was still on the -books against Mr. Raymond Challoner, that gentleman was found to be -missing, bag and baggage. - -Ray Challoner had shaken off the dust of Newport from his heels, and -had gone as far away from the scene of his late social triumphs, and -failure to secure a matrimonial prize, as possible. Was it fate that he -should choose New Orleans as his place of destination? Who shall say? - -He was anxious to reach there in time for the races; to recoup, if -possible, his dwindling amount of cash. But once again fate seemed -determined to balk him. - -As they reached a little station the telegraph messenger rushed out and -signaled the conductor, and a few hurried words passed between them. -The conductor seemed greatly disturbed, and the faces of the trainmen -who gathered about them also appeared troubled. - -Then came the statement by the conductor that there had been an -accident to the mail train just ahead and it would be impossible to -proceed. The express was ordered to remain at that station until -further orders from the manager of the road. - -The uneasiness among the passengers was met with the assurance that -they could be transferred to another line, which would bring them into -New Orleans some five hours late--that was the best that could be done -for them. - -Ray Challoner fairly foamed as he cursed his luck--the races would be -over by the time he could reach the track--and thus fled his hopes of -replenishing his pocketbook with the funds of which he stood so sorely -in need. - -“Is there no way of reaching there save the one you have mentioned, -conductor?” he inquired, pacing nervously up and down. - -“Well, there is another way--you might stand a ghost of a chance -of finding a horse here that might carry you over to Greenville, a -distance of some twenty miles across the roughest road you ever struck; -once at Greenville you might get a conveyance to take you the other -thirty miles--or a horse, or something of that kind; and if you met no -mishaps and pushed rapidly on you might land in New Orleans by noon, or -a little after.” - -“By George! I’ll act upon your suggestion,” declared Challoner, -eagerly. “I cannot more than miss, and that’s what I would be doing -if----” But here he stopped short, for some one was calling for the -conductor, and that functionary was obliged to excuse himself in all -haste and hurry away. - -Ray Challoner did not wait to see the passengers transferred, but made -all haste into the village in which he found himself. - -It consisted of a few straggling houses, a blacksmith shop and a couple -of general stores, and a farmers’ inn. - -Toward the latter place Challoner bent his steps, losing no time in -making known his wants to his host, but he soon found, to his chagrin, -that a horse could not be hired for love nor money. - -“Could I buy a cheap animal hereabouts?” he inquired in desperation. - -That put a different face on the matter. The man was quite willing to -dispose of an ancient animal he owned if the stranger would pay him his -price. - -“And what is your price?” queried Challoner, impatiently. - -“Fifty dollars,” answered the man, promptly. - -Challoner quickly concluded the bargain, although he had scarcely half -that amount left in his purse. - -An exclamation of intense wrath, not to say an imprecation, broke from -his lips on beholding his purchase; but it did little good to invoke a -torrent of anger upon the host of the inn, who already had his money -pocketed. - -“Why, that animal will not carry me five miles!” he cried, when the -horse, already saddled, was led around to the front porch. “He is -falling down already, and hasn’t a sound leg to stand on; and you could -hang your hat on his projecting bones.” - -“A lean horse for a long race, my friend,” remarked his host, sagely; -“you’ll find that Roger--that’s his name--will carry you the twenty -miles to Greenville all right.” - -“And drop down dead when I get there,” said Challoner, with still -another and more fierce imprecation. - -“I didn’t agree that he could go much farther than to Greenville,” -responded the late owner of Roger; “that would depend upon how much -rest you gave him when you reach there, friend.” - -“No doubt I can dispose of him for enough to hire a horse that is a -horse to pursue the rest of my journey,” declared the disgruntled young -man. - -“Most likely,” remarked his host. But he said to his buxom wife, who -stood by, as the stranger mounted the horse and rode off at a rattling -pace: “If he keeps that gait up very long, Old Roger will surely rebel -and refuse to go a step for him, that’s all there is about that. He -might lash him to death and he wouldn’t stir a leg when the balky -notion hits him. He’ll be glad enough to swap him for a five-dollar -note by the time he gets to Greenville--and Roger will soon be walking -home to us again.” - -Roger had been a profitable animal to mine host. More than once he had -sold him, and the new owner was always glad to sell him back to his -previous owner at any cost. - -Meanwhile the new owner was galloping away at the top of the speed of -his new purchase, much to the discomfiture of Roger. - -Mile after mile was thus traversed, until, at length, the town he -was so anxious to reach loomed up in the distance before him. It was -not until then that Roger’s impatience began to show itself. When he -reached a green lane which led past a grand old place, the animal -absolutely refused to go another step forward. This was a dilemma -Challoner had not counted upon. - -“Besides being as slow as molasses, he’s a balker, as well,” he -muttered, and, taking his whip well in hand, he began to lash the tired -beast most inhumanly, a fierce imprecation accompanying each cut of the -lash. - -One, two, three, four, five strokes of the sizzling rawhide had been -brought down upon the quivering flank of the animal, when, forth from -the branches of the tree overhead, a blow from a twig fell full upon -the face of the startled horseman, a small brown hand was thrust down -from among the green branches and a shrill, girlish voice cried, while -the blows were rained down faster and faster upon the head of the young -man, who was too astounded to make the slightest defense, or make a -retreat: - -“Take that, and that, and that! you outrageous monster, for lashing a -poor, defenseless horse. Oh, I hope that I have hurt you as much as you -hurt him--so there!” each word being accompanied by a whack from the -stinging twig. - -Ray Challoner looked up, as well as his amazement would permit, and saw -overhead, sitting on a broad bough, a girl, and surely the angriest -creature that he had ever beheld, gazing down at him. - -Even in that moment, as he began to dodge the blows, he could not help -but notice that the elfish, gypsyish-looking girl had a fine pair of -dark eyes, even though they were at that moment blazing with passion, -and that the head, crowned with a mass of dark curls, was well set and -dainty, the lips were scarlet and curved like Cupid’s bow, and the -brune face like a picture he had once seen in a foreign art gallery, -of a Spanish princess--though, instead of the filmy lace dress of the -former, this one wore a brown linsey dress, which made no pretense of -covering the brown feet and ankles dangling down from it. - -Challoner recovered his usual coolness instantly. - -“Ah!” he said, backing away from the reach of that strong, belligerent -young arm, that could deal such tremendous blows with the twig, “my -assailant is a young girl, it would seem; therefore I am unable to -defend myself from this uncalled-for attack.” - -“Uncalled for!” exclaimed the girl, still more shrilly, for she was -thoroughly angry at the stranger; “you provoked it by cruelly abusing -your poor horse; I only wish he had reared and thrown you, as you -deserved.” - -“Thank you,” remarked Challoner, sneeringly and mockingly, but before -he could utter the rest of the sentence which was on his lips, the -horse, as though he had heard the suggestion and thought the idea a -capital one, immediately reared backward with the quickness of motion -that unseated his rider in a single instant, and in the next, Raymond -Challoner found himself measuring his full length on the greensward, -and the animal, freed from his obnoxious rider, had plunged forward -into an adjacent thicket, and was lost to view. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. “WHO IS JESS?” - - - “But at last there came a day when she gave her heart away-- - If that rightly be called giving which is neither choice nor will, - But a charm, a fascination, a wild, sweet exultation-- - All the fresh young life outgoing in a strong, ecstatic thrill.” - -When Raymond Challoner regained his feet he was just in time to see -the girl disappearing behind a thicket of alder bushes. To say that -he was in a beastly temper by this time but faintly describes the -situation--he was furious. - -For one moment he paused and pondered as he shook the dust from his -eyes, which would pay him best; to search for the horse that had -played him so shabby a trick, or make his way on to the village, which -was not more than three-quarters of a mile distant at the farthest. - -He concluded that the latter course would be best. He would lose -more time in trying to dispose of the animal there than the amount -received would profit him, if it delayed him on his journey beyond the -possibility of being in New Orleans in time for the races. - -He was a swift walker, and as he hurried along he beguiled the time -by thinking over past events--a thing he rarely allowed himself to -do, but somehow he could not get John Dinsmore--Queenie Trevalyn’s -defender--out of his thoughts. - -He had only seen the doctor once since that midnight affair when he had -left his adversary lying dying, as he supposed, on the white sands; -then, the doctor had come to him, reporting the fact that he had had -the injured man conveyed, under an assumed name, to a nearby cottage; -but that it was his opinion at the present moment, that the man against -whom Ray Challoner had turned his weapon would not live to see another -sunrise. - -“So much the better,” he answered, looking full in the doctor’s face, -adding: “If he dies, let him be buried under that assumed name, and the -world at large will be none the wiser for his taking off.” - -“You forget that he had two friends who would interest themselves -to make inquiry and search for him,” the doctor had answered, but -Challoner remembered the answer he had made him: - -“Tell them that he arose from his bed in his delirium and dashed down -upon the sands and threw himself into the breakers, and was never seen -again.” - -“You have a very fertile and imaginative brain, Challoner,” the doctor -had remarked, dryly; “rather than let this affair come to light, if it -should turn out disastrously, I shall act upon your suggestion.” - -Ray Challoner had little time to ruminate further, for he was already -in the streets of the little village of Greenville. The appearance of -the handsome, aristocratic young gentleman walking in on foot quite -astounded the landlord of the Greenville Hotel, the most pretentious -place in the village. - -“Could he have a good meal, and after that, engage somebody to take him -by carriage on to New Orleans?” queried Challoner. - -“The good meal he could have, certainly; but did the stranger know that -it was thirty odd miles to the city, and if he was intending to go -there, he’d better go by train--they had just finished the new road, -and intended to make the initial trip that afternoon.” - -Raymond Challoner was overjoyed at this piece of news--evidently the -conductor of the train he had so lately left did not know of this. - -“You will have two good hours to wait here, sir,” went on the landlord; -“but we can make you comfortable, I reckon.” - -While Challoner was doing justice to the fried chicken and bacon, the -fine mealy potatoes, the gingerbread, honey and home-made bread which -was set before him, his curiosity concerning the girl whom he had -encountered in the lane a mile up the road got the better of him, and -he asked who she was. He also related the story of his experience, -which accounted for his appearance there on foot. - -The landlord laughed uproariously, as he listened. - -“That was Jess you fell in with,” he answered, “and bless you, sir, -it was as much as your life was worth to abuse--correct, I mean--any -animal, from a mouse to a horse, in her presence.” - -“And who, pray, is Jess?” queried the handsome young stranger, with -a cynical smile, as he followed his host from the dining-room out -to the barroom, depositing himself in one of the very comfortable -rush-bottomed chairs. - -It was not every day that the loquacious landlord of the Greenville -hostelry had a stranger to gossip with, and he proceeded to unbosom -himself at once upon the subject which had always had so much interest -for him, because it was shrouded in a mystery. - -“Who is Jess?” he repeated, blowing a great puff of smoke from the -short corncob pipe he has just lighted; “well, that’s what every one -around here would like to find out,” and then he proceeded to tell -the stranger the story of the late owner of Blackheath Hall; of the -appearance of the girl Jess there, brought in her infancy one stormy -night, and by the master’s orders, by the woman who spoke no language -save that of a foreign tongue, and she had been allowed to grow up -like the weeds about the place--a wild thing, cared for by nobody--and -last, but by no means least, of the wonderful will, which the New -Orleans lawyer had come up to the village to read to the members of the -household of Blackheath Hall, that the great fortune of its owner was -to go to the nephew who survived him, on the condition that he marry -Jess, and every one was waiting to see what view the heir presumptive, -Mr. John Dinsmore, of New York, would take of the matter--whether he -would wed the girl for the fortune that would be his with her, or -refuse the Dinsmore millions on that account. - -His host was so busy with his story that he did not notice the violent -start his guest made as the name of John Dinsmore fell upon his amazed -ears. He almost wondered if his sense of hearing was playing him false. - -Could this be the same John Dinsmore that his bullet had left dying -upon the sands of Newport? he wondered, in the greatest of excitement, -which he did his best to hide. - -“The whole thing came out in a New York paper--which just came in an -hour ago. That tells as much about Mr. Dinsmore as they can find out--I -mean the people who are looking for him to tell him about his fortune. -Would you like to read it while I am attending to other duties which -require my presence?” asked the landlord. - -“Yes,” responded Challoner, and his voice sounded hoarse and -unnatural--like nothing human. - -He was thankful that he was alone when he read the story of the great -fortune which would be John Dinsmore’s for the acceptance. He read that -he was at the time of writing of the newspaper article a guest of the -Ocean Hotel at Newport. - -It was the same printed column which Queenie Trevalyn had read--and -there followed another column, telling the success of the new book -which had just made him world famous. - -There was no reason left to doubt the identity of the man, for -a fine picture of John Dinsmore--true to life, as he had known -him--accompanied the notice, and column of praise. - -Ray Challoner laid down the paper with trembling hands. - -He stared straight before him, seeing nothing. His thoughts are chaos, -his brain whirls, and out of this chaos comes a train of thought that -fairly takes his breath away. - -He leaps from his seat and begins to pace up and down the floor of the -deserted barroom like a madman. The cold perspiration stands out in -beads upon his forehead. - -“It is a daring scheme, but why should I not accomplish it?” he argues, -clinching his hands tightly together. “John Dinsmore is dead; why -should not I, with the aid of the doctor at Newport, who would sell his -very soul for gold, gain possession of the important papers which were -upon his person--and--pass myself off for Dinsmore--gain possession of -the fortune--turn it into cash--and then--leave this country forever? -There would be but one thing to fear--and that is--coming across any -of the fellow’s former friends--well I certainly am clever enough to -keep out of their way. It is a bold stroke for a fortune, but none -but the most daring would ever attempt it--I have nothing to lose and -everything to gain; yes, by the eternal! I’ll risk it.” - -He did not like the idea of the girl thrown into the breach, but if -he could not gain possession of the fortune without wedding her--the -horrible, elfish creature he had encountered--why, wed her he -would--and desert her later. - -When the landlord returned, he found his guest still pacing restlessly -up and down the floor. As he approached, the young man turned to him, -saying, hoarsely: - -“Landlord, I have a little secret to confide to you; I had thought of -not telling it until--well, until I return to Greenville some few days -later--but, I fancy that you suspect the truth, and I might as well -confess it to you: I am John Dinsmore, the heir of Blackheath Hall.” - -“Well, well! can it be possible, sir!” cried the landlord, beaming all -over with delight; “to tell you the truth, that thought did flash over -me when you first came in, inasmuch as they were expecting the heir -would come here as soon as he learned the terms of his uncle’s will. -Welcome to Greenville, Mr. Dinsmore, and long and many a year may you -dwell among us. If you hadn’t bound me so to secrecy, how I should have -liked to have told my wife and daughter that you were here.” - -“Not just yet,” warned the stranger; “wait until I return from New -Orleans, which will be two days hence, and then you can spread it about -to your heart’s content, my good sir.” - -The old landlord was looking into the handsome, dissipated face with -eager scrutiny. - -“You do not resemble your uncle, George Dinsmore, whom I remember -well,” he said, thoughtfully, “and you have changed much since the time -when I saw you here before, a little lad.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. LUCK SMILES. - - - “A philosopher tells us that free from all care - Is the man who is penniless, homeless and bare; - Unbound by ties of relation or friend, - No position to hold, no rights to defend; - From all common anxieties thus being freed - Having nothing to lose, he is happy indeed. - He may wander at ease through the busiest streets, - With a smile at the care-worried crowd that he meets, - And in thoughts on his neighbors’ possessions regale, - With naught to perplex him, by no trouble assailed; - Of all doubt or depression his mind must be clear-- - Having nothing to lose, he has nothing to fear.” - -The landlord of the Greenville Hotel faithfully kept his promise in -revealing to no one the secret which his late guest desired him to -keep. And in due time, three days later, the false Mr. John Dinsmore -returned to the village, and after partaking of one meal at the hotel, -for which he paid liberally from a large roll of bills, he set out at -once on foot for Blackheath Hall, which lay on the outskirts of the -town. - -For once fate had been exceedingly kind to the daring adventurer--his -hasty letter to the doctor in Newport had come in the nick of time. In -John Dinsmore’s haste away from the place where he had so nearly lost -his life he had accidentally left behind him a satchel which contained -all of his valuable papers. These were handed to the doctor by the -nurse at whose cottage the sick man had been stopping. - -He was just on the point of advertising it--not knowing where his -patient was bound for when he left--when two things happened at one and -the same time: the total wreck of the train on which he was believed -to have been a passenger; and the second, the receipt of the letter, -in which Raymond Challoner laid his daring scheme of the winning of a -fortune--if he had his co-operation--before him, offering him a goodly -share of the Dinsmore millions if he would but help him to obtain them. - -The doctor was poor; everything had been going against him of late, and -he needed money badly. The battle between his will and his conscience -was sharp but decisive--his will had won. - -Lest he should change his mind, the doctor had shipped the satchel -containing John Dinsmore’s important papers to Challoner, at New -Orleans, in accordance with his request, and eagerly awaited results, -for he had misgivings as to how it would turn out. - -Armed with the needed credentials, the fraudulent Dinsmore proceeded -at once to present himself to the New Orleans lawyer who had the -settlement of the Dinsmore estate in charge. - -It was no easy ordeal to pass muster with the astute old man of law, -but Challoner accomplished it. - -The important documents he brought with him for that gentleman’s -inspection proved satisfactory upon examination, leaving no room -for doubt--there being a letter among them from the deceased George -Dinsmore, written fully twenty-five years before to his nephew--for the -postmarked envelope bore that date--stating if he grew up to be a good -boy he should one day inherit Blackheath Hall, to which he was invited -on a visit. - -The old lawyer did not fancy the young heir particularly--there was -something about him that seemed to grate harshly upon him. - -“If I mistake not, I saw him betting at the races when I went there to -find an important witness yesterday,” he ruminated, “and if that is the -kind of life he leads, poor George Dinsmore’s wealth will flow like -water through those white, slim, idle hands of his. - -“There is but one formula necessary now to be gone through with ere -the fortune can be made over to you, Mr. Dinsmore,” remarked the old -lawyer, with a grim smile, “and that is to wed the--Miss Jess,” he -said, hurriedly, changing the words that had been almost on his lips. - -“If I do not like the young girl, I shall not marry her--not for -all the fortunes that were ever made!” cried the false Dinsmore, -dramatically, and the lawyer liked him the better for that dash of -spirit. - -“The estate is a fine one, young man, and it would be a pity for you -not to inherit it, as you are next of kin to the deceased Mr. Dinsmore. -It was a great mistake, in my opinion, to tie it up as he did.” - -Armed with the lawyer’s letters of introduction, it was an easy matter -for the daring, fraudulent heir to gain an entrance to Blackheath Hall. - -Mrs. Bryson, the old housekeeper, looked with unfeigned astonishment at -the handsome young man who soon afterward presented himself at the hall -as Mr. John Dinsmore. - -“I--I beg your pardon for staring at you so hard,” she said, -apologetically, as she bade him enter; “you are changed so much from -the boy that it is hard to look at you and believe you to be one and -the same. Your eyes were quite blue as a boy, I remember; now they are -positively black--and you look so very young. The years have rested -lightly on you, sir; I should scarcely take you for two-and-twenty, let -alone thirty, which you must surely be.” - -“You are inclined to be complimentary, my dear madam,” remarked the -young man, with a covert sneer in his tone and a curl of his lips which -the black mustache, luckily for him, covered. “I try to take good care -of myself, and do not dissipate, which may, in a measure, account for -my youthful appearance, as you are pleased to term it; but, as to -changing the color of my eyes, that, my dear madam, would be quite -beyond my humble power. I would say that your memory has been playing -you a trick if you ever imagined them blue.” - -Mrs. Bryson was certainly bewildered. She must certainly have been -laboring under a most decided blunder in believing them blue all these -years, she told herself. - -“Come right in, sir,” she said, holding the great oaken door wide open -for him. “Welcome to Blackheath Hall.” - -Mr. Dinsmore lost no time in accepting her invitation, and looked -around in considerable satisfaction at the handsome suite of rooms -which had been prepared for him. - -“What an unlucky dog my rival was to kick the bucket and leave all -this good fortune behind him,” he thought, as he gazed about him; “but -still, what was his loss is my gain.” - -“I will inform Miss Jess that you are here, sir,” remarked the -housekeeper, with a courtesy, as she turned and left the room. Like -all women, she was attracted to him because of his singularly handsome -face, and she was wondering what the fastidious young gentleman would -think when he beheld the incorrigible Jess--who was a child of nature -still, though she had done her utmost during the last few days to -revolutionize the girl’s appearance. - -The thin pink and white mull dress, with its soft, fluttering pink -ribbons, became her dark, gypsyish beauty as nothing else could have -done, but Jess declared that she would a thousand times over wear her -brown linsey gown, that bade defiance to briar and bush as she sprang -like a wild deer through them. - -Mrs. Bryson had had a severe and trying ordeal in bending the will of -Jess to her own, in submitting to the transformation; but at last the -good woman accomplished her purpose, and when at last the young girl -stood before her, gowned as a young girl should be, she could not -repress her exclamation of great satisfaction. - -“If your manners but correspond with your looks, Jess,” she said, “you -would be simply irresistible, and would be sure to capture the heir for -a husband.” - -“It seems that my tastes and inclinations in the matter are not to be -considered at all!” cried the girl, with flashing eyes; “he is to come -here and look me over quite the same as though I was a filly he wished -to purchase, and if I suit, he will take me; if not, he will coolly -refuse to conclude the bargain.” - -“My dear--my dear--do not look upon the matter in such a horribly -straightforward light--of course, he must be pleased with you to want -to marry you--and----” - -“I don’t want to marry your Mr. John Dinsmore! I hate him!” cried Jess, -stamping her tiny little foot angrily. - -“How can you say that you hate him when you have not even seen him, -child?” argued the old housekeeper. - -“But I have seen him,” replied the girl, with a toss of her jetty -curls; “I was in the hay field when he came along the road, and I had a -very good look at him.” - -Jess did not add that she was surprised beyond all words to behold in -him the ill-tempered stranger with whom she had had the encounter a few -days before. - -She wisely refrained from mentioning anything concerning the affair -to Mrs. Bryson, in anticipation of the scolding she would be sure to -receive. Perhaps Mr. John Dinsmore would fail to recognize in her the -assailant who had given him a little of his own medicine for abusing -the old horse that was fairly staggering under him. - -“There isn’t a young girl in all Louisiana who would not be delighted -to stand in your shoes,” declared the old housekeeper, energetically; -“he is well worth the winning, and as handsome as a prince. And -remember, besides all that, your benefactor, Mr. Dinsmore, who kept -this roof over your head for so many years, set his heart and soul upon -your fancying each other.” - -“Would they be glad to stand in the slippers I am wearing at the -present time, as well as in my shoes?” queried Jess, with a flippant -laugh. “And as to the last part of your remark, Mrs. Bryson, a girl -can’t like a young man simply because he has been picked out for her -by somebody who has no idea of her likes and dislikes. Kissing goes by -favor, you know.” - -“You would exasperate a saint, girl,” cried the housekeeper, “do not -fly in the face of your good fortune, but make the most of such a grand -opportunity of winning a handsome young husband, and a fine fortune, at -one and the same time.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. A FATEFUL MEETING. - - -It was with evident satisfaction that the false John Dinsmore looked -about the elegantly appointed suite of rooms when he found himself -alone in them. The open windows looked out upon the eastern terrace, -which was delightfully cool and shady this warm afternoon, with the -odor of the tall pines and of the great beds of flowers floating in on -the breeze. - -He threw himself down in a cushioned chair by the window; and as he -sat there, quietly reflecting for an hour or more, he could not make -out why the elder Dinsmore had made it imperative in his will that his -nephew must marry that freak of a girl, Jess, if he would inherit his -millions. - -He was aroused from his meditations by the sound of the dinner bell. - -“There’s not a particle of use in making any change in my toilet -because of the freak, or the old housekeeper--these backwoods people -would not know the difference between a _négligée_ and a regulation -dinner costume, I’ll be bound.” - -He had a good appetite, and responded to the summons with alacrity. -He was not surprised to find Mrs. Bryson only in the great paneled -dining-room. - -She greeted him with stately courtesy, remarking, as she assigned him -a seat on her right at the table, that Miss Jess would be with them -directly. - -And the good lady felt called upon to tell the young man then and -there that the girl had no other name, at least they knew of none; -observing that this incident concerning the past showed how easy it -was to cloud the future by carelessness in determining anything so -important at the right time. - -Mr. Dinsmore made some light, conciliatory reply, inwardly -congratulating himself that the impish freak, as he styled the girl, -had not put in an appearance, for the sight of her would not improve -his digestion, rather it would nauseate him if she came to the table -garbed in body as he had last seen her and minus any foot covering. - -Five minutes passed, in which Mrs. Bryson vainly attempted to keep up -the conversation, while the dinner waited for the truant Jess, much to -the housekeeper’s annoyance and that of the handsome guest, for the -odor of well-cooked viands sent his appetite up to almost a ravenous -pitch. - -“I think we will be forced to dine without Jess,” she began, -apologetically, but the words were scarcely out of her mouth ere the -sound of ear-splitting whistling, sweet, even though its shrillness -fell upon their ears. - -“Jess is coming,” murmured Mrs. Bryson, flushing hotly, for she was -ashamed beyond all words that their guest should hear her actually -whistling, and she added, apologetically, “the child is something of -a tomboy, Mr. Dinsmore, having no little girl companions must surely -account for that”--she looked anxiously at the door as she spoke, and -the guest’s eyes naturally followed in the same direction. - -He was prepared to see a wild, gypsyish creature, more fitted for wild -camp life than life at stately Blackheath Hall, where the grand old -dining-room, with its service of solid silver, might have satisfied a -princess. - -As the fluttering steps drew nearer, the young man smiled a sneering, -satirical smile beneath his dark mustache. - -He was wondering if the girl would recognize him on sight as the -stranger with whom she had had the angry encounter in the lane a few -days before. - -As she neared the great doorway the whistling suddenly ceased, and -almost simultaneously the girl appeared in sight, and it was no -wonder that the elegant stranger forgot himself so much as to actually -stare--for the vision that suddenly appeared before his sight haunted -him to the end of his life. - -Instead of the hoydenish creature he expected to see, he beheld a tall -young girl, in a pink and white flowered dress, which became her dark -beauty as no Parisian robe could have done; the jetty curls were tied -back by a simple pink ribbon, and a knot of pink held the white lace -bertha on her white breast. - -She advanced with the haughty step of a young empress and took her seat -opposite Mr. Dinsmore. - -He never afterward clearly remembered in what words the presentation -was made. - -He was clearly taken aback, and he showed it plainly. - -Not one feature of the girl’s proud, beautiful face moved, but there -was a subtle gleam in the bright, dark eyes which made the handsome -stranger feel uncomfortable. He knew that she had recognized him at the -first glance, and was secretly laughing at that memory--a fact which he -resented. - -She took but one glance at him, but in that one, instantaneous glance -she had read not only the face, but the heart and soul, of the man -sitting opposite her, and her first impression of dislike of him was -strengthened. - -He was quick to see that this little Southern beauty did not go in -raptures over him, as almost every other girl whom he had ever met had -seemed to do; in fact, he felt that she disliked him, and he was sure -that it was on account of the episode with the horse. - -“I will change all that,” he promised himself confidently. He would -not notice that the girl acknowledged the introduction curtly, if -not brusquely; a fact which quite horrified good Mrs. Bryson, who -remembered full well her words: - -“If I like the paragon who is coming I will be as amiable as I can -to him; if I dislike him, no power on earth can compel me to pretend -that I do. I will be as civil as I can to him, do not expect any more -from me, Mrs. Bryson. I have heard all that you have to say about this -strange young man’s taking a fancy to me--which is the peg upon which -riches in the future or beggary are hung--but I do not care a fillip -of my finger for all that. I would never marry him unless I liked him, -though a score of fortunes hung in the balance. If I ever marry, I want -a lover like the heroes I have read of--a----” - -Mrs. Bryson held up her hands in horror, exclaiming: - -“Again, in after years, I behold the fruits of my folly. I allowed -you to read what you would in master’s library, forgetting there were -sentimental books there; and no young girl should read that kind. They -have filled your foolish little head with all sorts of wild notions.” - -“I shall know when I meet my hero, thanks to them,” declared Jess, with -a toss of the curls and a defiant expression of her dark eyes, which -had a habit of speaking volumes from their wonderful dark depth. - -And looking at her, Mrs. Bryson knew from her indifferent manner that -handsome Mr. Dinsmore had not made a favorable impression upon the -girl--he was not her ideal--not her hero, evidently. - -Mr. Dinsmore noticed that she made no attempt to entertain him or to be -anything more than civilly indifferent. - -He was annoyed, but he would not notice it. The elegantly appointed -table, the excellent dinner, and the fine old wines made an impression -upon him. - -He set himself to work with a will which was new to him to overcome -the girl’s prejudice. He was all animation, vivacity and high spirits, -literally charming the old housekeeper with his flow of wit and -collection of anecdotes. - -Glancing now and then to the lovely girl opposite him, he saw that she -was bored instead of being amused by them. - -Her indifference piqued him, she aroused his interest, and that was -more than any other girl had done--and he had traveled the wide world -over, and had seen the beauties of every clime. - -“I almost believe I have lost my heart to the girl,” he muttered, as he -arose from the table, and at Mrs. Bryson’s suggestion, followed her out -into the grounds. - -“Jess, will you show Mr. Dinsmore the rose gardens?” she asked of the -girl, adding, “he was very fond of them when he was a child.” Suddenly -she asked: “Do you remember gathering roses from a bush when you were -stung by a bee?” - -“I remember the incident well,” he remarked, with a laugh, looking -the good woman straight in the eye, as he uttered the glib falsehood -unflinchingly, adding: “I believe I could go straight to that very bush -now.” - -“You have a wonderful memory,” declared the good woman, admiringly. -She managed to whisper to Jess, as the girl passed her, to be more -civil to their guest, and to pretend to take more interest in him for -hospitality’s sake, if for nothing else--a remark to which Jess deigned -no reply. - -To tell the truth, she was rebelling in her innermost soul at her -restraint in being gowned in a dress in which she could not do as she -pleased without getting it ruined. Better a thousand times were she in -her brown linsey dress, in which she could climb into her old seat in -the apple tree if she liked, or roam over the dew-wet grass, with her -dogs for companions, to her heart’s content. - -Try as she would, she could not forget this handsome young man’s -cruelty to his poor horse; how fearfully he had lashed him, every -stroke being accompanied by a curse. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. THE LOVE THAT IS SURE TO COME. - - - “What is love, that all the world - Talks so much about it? - What is love, that neither you - Nor I can do without it?” - -The hour which followed in the old garden sealed the fate of the false -heir--he was hopelessly head over heels in love with the girl whom he -had come to Blackheath Hall determined to hate. He was frightened at -the vehemence of his mad passion. - -What if she should not return it and refuse to obey the conditions of -the will? - -“I will not think of such a possibility,” he told himself, setting his -handsome, white teeth hard together. - -He felt that the first thing to be done to get on an amiable footing -with her and remove her prejudice--for he felt reasonably sure that she -recognized him--was to apologize for his seeming harshness to his horse -on that memorable occasion when the girl had encountered him. - -He got around the point most admirably, in his opinion, when he turned -lightly and said to Jess: - -“I have been trying to think, ever since I beheld you to-day, of whom -you remind me. I have it now, your face is very similar to that of a -young girl whom I met in this vicinity a few days ago as----” - -“I am that girl, Mr. Dinsmore,” cut in Jess, icily, and with more -dignity of manner than good Mrs. Bryson would ever have dreamed that -she possessed, adding: “Your conduct exasperated me, and I administered -to you what I considered a lesson and a rebuke in one. I know you are -intending to tell Mrs. Bryson about it to get me into trouble, but -I do not care; I would do the same thing over again under the same -provocation, Mr. Dinsmore!” she cried, with flashing eyes. - -“You mistake my intentions,” he hastened to reply; “I have no wish to -ever mention it after this conversation, believe me. Instead, I wish to -explain my actions to you, that I may not seem quite such an ogre in -your sight as I must at present. Remember, I asked you to hear me then -and you refused; surely you will not judge me too harshly until you -have heard what I have to say upon the subject?” he said, eagerly. - -“I would rather try to forget it,” retorted Jess, her slender, dark, -jetty eyebrows meeting in a decided frown. - -He would take no notice of her remark, but went on, quickly: - -“You shall hear my reason for my actions, which will, I am sure, excuse -them----” - -“Nothing will ever excuse a man for lashing a poor dumb brute!” cried -Jess, trembling with indignation. “Spare your words, sir!” - -Without noticing the interruption he went on, in a low, injured voice: - -“Some five minutes ere you saw me I had been taken with an attack of -my old enemy--acute gastritis--and I knew that my only hope of not -falling dead in the saddle was to reach a place where I could summon -assistance, for in five minutes more I would be in spasms. In moments -like that one uses every means within one’s grasp to reach safety and -succor. I realized dimly that the animal was tired, but it was his life -or mine, and the latter, of course, was the one to be saved. In my -excruciating pain I know not what words I used--I never will know. My -brain seemed on fire and whirling about; my only thought was to reach -the village beyond, and with all possible speed, while I was able to -control the lines and keep my seat. The terrible fall which the animal -gave me had its good effects; it restored the circulation of blood -as nothing else could have done, and probably saved my life then and -there. That is all I have to say; surely, after knowing the truth, you -cannot withhold your pardon from me, Miss Jess?” - -“Not if your statement is true,” replied the girl, with terrible -straightforwardness. “I did you two injuries: the first, in believing -you unmercifully wicked and cruel; the second, in reaching out from the -limb of the tree on which I was seated and striking you. It is I who -should sue for your pardon, sir, and pray that you might forget it.” - -“I beg you to believe that my pardon is fully and freely granted,” he -replied, eagerly. “And now, may I hope that we shall be friends, Miss -Jess?” and, emboldened by her forgiving mood, he caught the little -brown hand that was hanging by her side ere she could know what he was -about to do, and began kissing it rapturously. - -With an angry gesture Jess quickly drew her hand from his clasp. - -“You ask for my friendship,” she said, “that is quite another matter; -you will have to deserve it. And I shall not know whether you are -worthy of it until I know you better, and have learned your good -traits, and your bad ones.” - -The young man laughed outright, highly amused. Was there ever such an -original girl as this Jess? he asked himself. - -“I shall strive for it as man never strove for a girl’s friendship -before,” he declared. “Now that I have removed your distrust--nay, even -your hatred--I may hope to gain your good will--which is so much to me.” - -She looked at him in unfeigned astonishment. - -“Why should you care whether I like or hate you, Mr. Dinsmore?” she -asked, looking straight into his face with her dark, childish eyes. - -Had he chosen to utter the truth he might have responded: - -“For two reasons: first, because I have taken a fancy to you; and -second, because you must marry me, whether you will or not, that I may -secure the Dinsmore fortune.” - -But he only responded, quietly: - -“Why should one wish for an enemy when that enemy can be made a friend -of, Miss Jessie?” - -“Do not call me Jessie!” cried the girl; “I detest it. I am simply -Jess--nothing but that.” - -“Jess, then,” he said, laughingly. “It shall be as the queen wills.” - -“I shall be sure not to like you if you go on making speeches like -that!” declared the girl. “I don’t like queens, they are not my style; -I have read all about them. I’d rather be a plain American girl than be -the grandest queen in the world.” - -“You are enthusiastically patriotic,” he said, admiringly. “I quite -honor you for that sentiment,” and he drew nearer, that he might look -more closely into the beautiful face, whose expression varied with -every passing thought. - -And Mrs. Bryson, watching them eagerly from behind the screening vines -of the porch, said to herself that they were getting on famously -together. - -It was a difficult matter, during the week which followed, to keep Jess -within the prescribed bounds of civilization which Mrs. Bryson had laid -out for her. - -But that the brown linsey dress was destroyed, literally torn to pieces -before her very eyes, Jess would have donned it, and taken to her old -life again, roaming barefooted through the woods and dales, with never -a care. - -She chafed like an untamed cub at the confinement she was now -undergoing, and of being thrust into stays and dainty dresses, and her -feet into slippers, even though they were of a size the far-famed -Cinderella herself might have envied. And the curls, which had always -been allowed to blow about as they would, free from restraint as the -breeze itself, did not take kindly to the jailer of a ribbon, and were -constantly breaking forth in crinkling rings here and there, utterly -defying detention. - -“I was in great fear that he would not take to Jess,” mused Mrs. -Bryson, anxiously; “but now I know that that fear is groundless; -she can be mistress of Blackheath Hall if she so wills it; and, no -matter how obstinate she may be, I will see to it that she marries the -young heir when he asks her. Dear, dear! what a wonderful difference -fine clothes do make in the girl. I never knew before that she was -positively beautiful; but such is actually the case. ‘Fine feathers -make fine birds,’ most truly.” - -Mrs. Bryson had too much tact to ask Jess what she thought of the -handsome young stranger, even when she found herself alone with the -girl that night. Instead, she said, with a sigh: - -“Mr. Dinsmore is far more elegant than I thought he would be. I have -little hope that you will ever reign mistress of this vast estate, for -he would never think of falling in love with you, poor child.” - -“Nor would I ever fall in love with him,” retorted Jess, spiritedly; -but all the same the words of the housekeeper rankled in her girlish -heart for an hour or more after Mrs. Bryson had left her; in fact, -until her dark, bright eyes closed in dreams. It was the first thought -that occurred to Jess when she opened her eyes at the dawn of day the -following morning. - -“If it were not for the trouble I would show Mrs. Bryson how mistaken -she is,” Jess ruminated, as she made her simple toilet and hurried down -into the grounds. - -Early as she was, to her great amazement she found Mr. Dinsmore already -in the grounds, smoking a cigar as he paced restlessly to and fro. - -“What an unexpected pleasure, Miss Jess,” he cried, throwing away -his cigar at once and advancing toward her. “I hardly hoped for so -agreeable a surprise. Usually young girls are not visible much before -noon--those whom I have met in the world of fashion.” - -“Then I should not like to belong to the world of fashion,” declared -Jess, “for the early morning has a charm for me which no other part -of the day can equal. I had almost forgotten to give you the letter -which Toby just brought up from the village post office for you, Mr. -Dinsmore.” - -As he took it from her hand, and his eye fell upon the chirography, a -chalky, ashen color overspread his face, and he started violently. Even -before he opened it, he had an intuition of what it contained, and he -muttered to himself: - -“I have not time to waste--I must marry this girl and collect all the -funds possible without delay. And after that--well, let the future look -out for itself!” - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. COLD AND HEARTLESS. - - - Once only, love, may love’s sweet song be sung; - But once, love, at our feet, love’s flower is flung; - Once, love--only once--can we be young; - Say, shall we love, dear love, or shall we hate? - - Once only, love, will burn the blood-red fire; - But once awaketh the wild desire; - Love pleadeth long, but what if love should tire? - Now shall we love, dear love, or shall we wait? - - The day is short, the evening cometh fast; - The time of choosing, love, will soon be past; - The outer darkness falleth, love--at last. - Love, let us love ere it be late--too late. - -After hastily perusing the letter which he had received, Ray Challoner -thrust it quickly into his pocket, muttering hoarsely to himself that -there was little time to lose. He must propose to Jess as expeditiously -as possible. - -He would not trust himself to figure on the result further than to -assure himself that the marriage ceremony should be consummated by fair -means or foul, and that, too, without delay. - -That evening, when he followed Jess to the drawing-room he primed -himself for the coming ordeal, for he felt that it would amount to -simply that. - -She was advancing toward the open window, and he hastened to her side, -saying: - -“I know you were just about to step out on the porch. You love the -outdoor air so well that I am sorry to inform you that it is raining -heavily.” - -“What difference will that make to me, Mr. Dinsmore?” exclaimed the -girl, cresting her dark, curly head. “I love the rain and the warring -of the elements. I am at home among them. They will not harm me; I am -not sugar, nor salt; therefore the rain will not spoil me nor make -havoc of my complexion.” And she laughed airily as she uttered the -words. - -“But the rain will make havoc of that lovely costume you have on,” he -declared, biting his lips with vexation. - -“I shall throw my waterproof cloak about me, and put on my rubbers,” -she retorted, nonchalantly. - -“But what is the use of venturing out on to the porch in a driving -gale like this?” he cried. “You will take your death of cold.” Adding: -“Besides, I am not so fortunate as to be equipped to accompany you.” - -“Indeed, I did not expect you to do so,” retorted the girl, quickly. -“And you are mistaken about my intending to stop on the porch. -Why, I’m going out into the very teeth of the storm--out into the -grounds--possibly farther down the road. There is a miniature cataract -in the woods about half a mile from here. I always go there to watch -the swirling, angry water in a storm. It is simply grand, especially -when the lightning strikes and fells some of the giant trees, which it -is nearly always sure to do.” - -Challoner looked at the girl in dismay, wondering what sort of a -creature she could be. She was so vastly different from the rest of -the girls he had known. Silks and laces could not make her different -from what nature had intended her--a veritable tomboy, and a heathenish -one at that. - -No matter where she went, he was determined to accompany her and -propose to her, that very evening, come what might. - -He swallowed his chagrin in the most amiable manner possible, remarking -with apparent calmness: - -“As the queen wills, I suppose. Here is an umbrella close at hand, -fortunately,” and as he stepped out of the long French window after the -bounding figure of the girl who preceded him, he comforted himself with -the thought that the stake he must win that night was worth a thousand -times more than his evening suit and new patent leather ties, which -would, of course, be ruined by this mad escapade. - -In that moment he fairly hated this girl whom he had come there to -win at all hazards--playing such a daring game for the great fortune -involved. He would soon stop such mad freaks as this, after the knot -was tied, even though he crushed her spirit, and broke her heart -to accomplish it--he promised himself with a good deal of inward -satisfaction. - -He wondered if there was ever a man on earth who proposed marriage -under such trying circumstances. - -Jess scorned the use of his umbrella, and his arm, but ran on before -him at a breakneck pace, and it was all that he could do to keep up -with her and manage to keep the umbrella from turning inside out in the -mad gale and torrents of downpouring rain. - -He even had the uncomfortable feeling that the girl was laughing at his -plight and enjoying his discomfiture hugely. - -There was clearly not the slightest use, or opportunity, as for that -matter, of uttering one word of the declaration he had prepared with -such care, for he could scarcely catch his breath as it was. He must -wait until they reached their destination, the cascade, and had time to -recover himself after so swift a race at the girl’s heels. - -The half mile she had spoken of seemed three times that length to him, -and he was nearly dropping with exhaustion when at last the welcome -sound of the dashing of the water fell upon his ears. - -“Here we are, Mr. Dinsmore. I hope you are not tired,” said Jess, and -if they had not been standing in the shadow of the trees he would have -seen the amused sparkle in her eyes as she heard him actually panting -for breath. - -“Not at all,” he remarked, grimly. But she noticed that he made all -haste to throw himself down upon a fallen log to rest. - -“The rain will soon cease, for it is only a shower, then the moon will -come forth from behind the clouds in a flood of silvery brightness, -but the wind will take up the battle, and uproot the trees that the -lightning failed to find.” - -“For Heaven’s sake, why should you elect to remain where there is so -much danger?” he cried, as her words were verified at that very instant -by the crashing down of a giant oak almost at his feet. - -“Because I love danger!” answered the girl, musingly. “I think if I -had been born a boy instead of a girl, I should have gone on the high -seas, and perhaps turned out a pirate captain, or something equally as -romantic. I crave a life filled with excitement. I cannot understand -how young girls can sit in parlors dressed up as puppets and crochet, -and talk by rule. Such restraint would be simply unendurable to me. -I should feel like a wild bird who has been captured from his nest -in some grand old tree in a deep green wood and thrust into a gilded -cage. He sees not the gilding, nor the food and drink placed in it; he -sees only the cruel iron bars that hold him back from freedom and its -joyousness.” - -This was the very opening which Challoner desired, and he was quick to -take advantage of it. - -“Marry me, little Jess, and you shall live just the life you crave,” he -cried, falling dramatically on his knees at her feet, and at the same -instant seizing both her little clasped hands in his and covering them -with hot, passionate kisses. - -“You shall go where you will, do as you like. Your caprices shall be as -law to me. I--I----” - -“Stop!” cried Jess, drawing her hands away from him angrily. “You are -cruel to spoil the beauty of the scene and the night.” - -“My heart compels me to speak,” he answered, hoarsely, “the words force -themselves from my heart to my lips. I can no more keep them back than -I could withhold the mad torrent of waters that are dashing down the -bed of yonder cataract. Listen to the story of my love, little Jess, -and then blame me if you can find it in your heart to do so.” - -“I do not want to hear about it now,” persisted Jess, impatiently. - -He drew away from her and leaned against a tree with his arms folded -across his chest and a decidedly queer expression on his face. He was -struggling hard with himself to keep down his anger. Such a declaration -as he had just uttered had never been known to fail in winning a -feminine heart, and the idea of this girl “calling him down,” as he -phrased it, for declaring himself, filled him with rage which he found -difficult to master. - -It was not the first time she had snubbed him during their short -acquaintance, and then and there he told himself that he had a long -score to settle with this girl, and he would settle it with a vengeance -some day, but he had yet his game to win, and for the present he must -play the part of an adoring lover, which was very repugnant to his -feelings. - -He looked at the slim slip of a girl the winning of whom meant a -fortune to him, if she could be won quickly, and commenced the attack -in another way, and more adroitly. - -“So fair, so cold and so heartless,” he murmured. “Cold as yonder lady -moon breaking away from the clouds that would fain clasp her and hold -her; but the moon has not so true a lover in the clouds as you have in -me, little Jess. I pray you listen to me, for I must speak and tell you -all that is in my heart--or die!” he added, dramatically. - -An amused laugh broke from the girl’s fresh red lips as she looked up -into the handsome, cynical face. - -“Ah, if you were less heartless, Jess,” he sighed. “But even the -hardest heart may sometimes suffer, and your day may come. Perhaps you -may experience some day the love that I feel now, and if the object of -your affection laughs at you in your face for your folly in loving, -then you will know what I am suffering to-night.” - -“I did not mean to do anything so positively rude as that!” declared -Jess, “but somehow this whole transaction seems so very ridiculous to -me, just as if I were a bale of tobacco put up for a purchaser. You -were to come here and look me over, and if I half suited you, you would -marry me, because that was the condition of that dreadful will. But I -tell you here and now that I have something to say in the matter--a -voice to raise--since my future happiness is at stake. All the money -your uncle left could not make me marry a man I did not love. And I do -not love you, that is certain, Mr. Dinsmore. And what’s more, I never -will. Marriage between us is, therefore, impossible. Speak no more of -it, for it can never be, I tell you.” - -He was silent from sheer rage. He knew if he opened his lips to speak -he would curse her as she stood there before him in the bright, white -moonlight. Was ever so splendid a fortune lost! and all through the -willful caprice of a girl. It fairly drove him mad to think of it--ay, -mad--and desperate. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. WAS IT THE DECREE OF FATE? - - - “Mark well, who wed should give the hand - With undivided heart, and stand - In single purpose true to one; - Or else the loving soul’s undone, - And, like the curse which blights the land, - The heart’s in variance with the hand, - And found, alas! too late--too late, - Fate linked them to a faithless mate, - They thought the flower of chivalry.” - -Even in that moment of fierce anger, this man, who had so much at -stake, did not give way to his feelings. Instead he sought to use every -persuasion, every argument possible to dispel her prejudice, and then -win her heart. But it seemed a useless attempt. She simply grew more -and more annoyed with him for his persistence; was actually bored by -his eloquent avowal of love. - -It was to be a long and laborious task, awakening her interest, to say -nothing of hoping for a tenderer regard, he could plainly foresee, and -when she turned away from him, with never a word of answer in response -to his passionate appeal, he determined upon a clever maneuver to bring -her to accepting him. - -“You have spoiled my hour at the cataract,” she said, pouting like a -spoiled child, “and now I am going back to the house. You shall not -accompany me the next time.” - -If she had looked at him she would have seen that his face wore a dull -red flush in the white moonlight. - -“You shall never leave this spot until you have promised to marry me, -Jess, or have looked upon your work, if you persist in refusing me.” - -And as he spoke, he sprang into the path before her, barring her -exit to the main road, and at the same time seizing her wrist in a -steel-like grasp. - -Jess was no coward. This action aroused all the girl’s spirit of angry -resentment. - -“Stand aside and allow me to pass, Mr. Dinsmore!” she cried. “How dare -you attempt to bar my way! Another moment of this, and I shall hate you -instead of being merely indifferent to you.” - -For answer he drew from his breast pocket a small, silver-mounted -revolver and placed the muzzle of it against his temple. - -“Is your answer to be yes or no, Jess?” he said, hoarsely. “Promise to -marry me and you save my life; refuse, and I fire. I love you too well -to lose you. I give you while I count five to reach a conclusion.” - -“How dare you threaten me in this way?” panted the girl. - -“Is it yes--or--no?” he questioned, stolidly. - -Terror, for the first time in her young life, robbed Jess of all power -of speech, and like one in a trance she heard him call out hoarsely: - -“One--two--three--four----” - -“Speak! Is it yes, or no?” he cried, bending toward her, his fiery eyes -and breath scorching her face. - -But Jess could make him no answer, her lips were stricken dumb. - -“Five!” he shouted, and simultaneously with the word the deafening -report of the revolver rang out on the stillness of the night air in -that lonely spot. - -Even as he had uttered the word, Jess sprang forward to wrench the -revolver from his grasp and prevent the tragedy, if indeed he really -meant to carry out his threat of blowing his brains out. But in her -excitement she forgot that he was standing on the very brink of the -precipice which overlooked the cataract, and in her intense horror she -forgot that the tree which had so recently blown down lay directly -across the path, and her foot caught on the up-standing roots, and in -less time than it takes to tell it, she had fallen across it, her head -hanging over the very edge of the precipice. - -If her foot had not been so securely fastened in the intertwining -roots, she would surely have gone over it; as it was, she was held fast. - -But Jess did not know that, for, with that plunge forward, when her -terrified gaze encountered the foaming waters dashing below her into -which she was falling headlong, consciousness left her. - -For an instant Challoner contemplated the girl and her perilous -position with darkening brows. - -“If I served her right, I would give her a push which would send her -down to the bottom of the falls,” he muttered. “She sprang for me to -wrest the weapon from me; I saw that in her eyes, and outstretched -hands. The little fool never dreamed that the weapon contained only -blank cartridges. I’m not so fond of shuffling off this mortal coil -as I led her to believe. In the first place, I think too much of -my precious head, and in the second, I intend to remain on this -terrestrial sphere long enough to win the Dinsmore millions, if it be -within man’s power.” - -Very coolly he replaced the revolver in his breast pocket, then set -about to release the girl from her uncomfortable position, telling -himself that he ought to let her remain there until her senses -returned, to see how brave she would be when she found herself hanging -head downward over the chasm. - -Then another idea occurred to him, which he proceeded to put into -execution. Laying Jess hurriedly down, he dragged the tree by main -force forward, and hurled it across the yawning space. A cry of -delight broke from his lips as it lodged securely upon a jutting point -of rock some ten feet below, making a bridge, which spanned the chasm, -quite as completely as though it had been fashioned by the hand of man. - -“Excellent!” cried Challoner. “Affairs could not have been adjusted -more to my liking. I will win the girl through her love for romantic -chivalry. By the means of this I have not the slightest doubt.” - -Coolly lifting the slight figure in his arms, he proceeded to convey -her by way of a short cut through the grounds back to Blackheath Hall. - -The old housekeeper was on the porch when he reached the outer gate -with his burden, and when he staggered up the broad walk and laid Jess -at her feet, her cry of terror brought the household to the scene at -once. - -To them Challoner, or John Dinsmore, as they called him, told the story -which he had prepared for their ears, to the effect that as they were -standing on the precipice, looking down on the foaming waters, as Jess -had insisted upon doing, the girl had lost her balance, and had fallen -over headforemost into the chasm. - -For an instant he had thought it was all over with her. Then, to his -intense joy, he discovered her hanging by her skirts to a tree which -had blown down and was lodged fully ten feet below. He had not waited -an instant to consider what was best to be done, but, with the fixed -determination to save Jess or die with her, he had plunged down to her -rescue, succeeding in grasping her just as her garments were giving way. - -Then followed his recital of his terrible climb up that ten feet of -slippery rock with his burden clasped close in his arms. One slip meant -certain death for both, and, hardly realizing how he had accomplished -it, he at last, by an almost superhuman effort, had succeeded in -pulling himself and Jess up, thanking Heaven that the girl was -unconscious, and had not realized the frightful danger through which -she had passed. - -Mrs. Bryson, the old housekeeper, trembled like an aspen leaf as -she listened; then her pent-up feelings broke forth into hysterical -sobbing. - -“Little Jess owes her life to you, Mr. Dinsmore,” she cried. “She -should adore the very ground you walk on for it to the day she dies, -and I shall impress that upon her mind,” she added. “Perhaps it would -be best never to let her know of her danger,” he suggested, suavely, -but Mrs. Bryson would not hear to any such arrangement. “It was but -just that Jess should know how he had saved her life at the risk of his -own,” she declared. - -And this was the story which was told to Jess when she regained -consciousness under Mrs. Bryson’s skillful treatment some half an hour -later. - -The girl listened with eyes opened wide with amazement. She recollected -hearing the report of the revolver as she sprang forward to dash it -from his hand, and missing her foothold, stumbling over the fallen -tree, and going over the precipice, as she imagined, and a shudder of -terror swept over her. - -“Then he did not kill himself, after all!” she faltered, and Mrs. -Bryson, who imagined that she referred to the perilous descending and -rescuing of herself, knowing nothing about the episode in which the -revolver played a part, answered: - -“Heaven saved him to rescue you in the most miraculous manner, and you -should fairly worship such a grand hero as he has proven himself to be, -Jess.” - -Jess could not bring herself to explain to Mrs. Bryson the cause which -had brought the accident about. She merely closed her eyes, wondering -how it happened that he had missed his aim, and failed to shoot himself -when he held the revolver close to his temple, and she echoed the old -housekeeper’s observation that it must indeed have been a miracle. - -The fright through which Jess had gone did not affect her much, and she -was as good as new, and up with the birds, and out in the grounds, the -next morning. - -But early as she was, “her hero,” as Mrs. Bryson declared she was going -to designate him forever after, was out before her. - -Jess never remembered in what words she attempted to thank him for the -service he had rendered her in saving her life. - -He put up his white hand with a quick, impatient sigh, saying, softly: - -“It was to be, that is why I missed my aim; that much I owe to you, -for, as you brushed past me, you turned my hand aside, and my bullet -went wide of its mark. I owe my life as much to you therefore, little -Jess, as you owe yours to me.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. A PREMONITION OF COMING EVIL. - - -“I am really glad if I was the cause of preventing you from committing -so terrible an act as suicide,” said the girl, solemnly, “for that -would have been very wicked.” - -“If you have lost all that makes life worth the living, you care little -enough how soon existence ends for you,” he replied, artfully; and with -a well-simulated heartbroken sigh, which caused little Jess to begin -for the first time to pity him. - -He saw her softened mood in her eyes, and followed up his advantage -with adroit skill, and, ere Jess was quite aware of it, he was -proposing to her for the second time. - -“I do not want your answer to-day, little girl,” he went on. “Take a -week to consider it, if you require that length of time, and in the -meantime, talk it over with Mrs. Bryson, or any one else who has your -true interest at heart. Will you do this?” - -Jess could not find it in her heart to refuse this request to the man -who had risked his own life to save hers. - -“I am going to run down to New Orleans for a few days,” he continued, -“and when I return you can have your answer ready for me.” - -Early that forenoon he took his leave, promising Mrs. Bryson that he -would be back by the end of the week. - -After he had gone, Jess made a clean breast of what had occurred, and -the fact that she was to give Mr. Dinsmore his answer when he returned -as to whether she would marry him or not, to Mrs. Bryson, who expressed -herself as delighted that he had thought so well of her as to propose, -a remark which Jess did not relish, as it savored of the idea in her -mind that the old housekeeper considered the handsome Mr. Dinsmore very -much above her--a thought which she greatly resented. - -From the moment in which she divulged the secret which she had -concluded at first not to tell to any one, Mrs. Bryson gave her no -peace. Every hour in the day she dinned into the girl’s ears the -practicability of her union with Mr. Dinsmore, which her benefactor, -the young man’s uncle, had foreseen, and so earnestly desired. - -It was all Jess heard from morning until night; she had it for -breakfast, luncheon and dinner, until she fairly grew irritable at the -sound of the name of Dinsmore, and hated the bearer of it, despite the -fact that he had rendered her so valuable a service. She could find no -peace until she had in a fit of desperation promised Mrs. Bryson that -it should be as she wished--she would say yes to Mr. Dinsmore when he -returned, and that the wedding should take place whenever he desired. - -“I knew you could not be so insane as to throw over such a fortune, -together with such a nice young husband,” declared the housekeeper, -with a sigh of great relief, “for few young girls would have been -mad enough to refuse him. I shudder to think what the result would -have been had he taken you at your word and committed suicide, or -gone off and married somebody else. Why, you would simply have been a -beggar, Jess; thrust out at once upon the cold mercies of the world; -for, according to the will, Blackheath Hall, and all of his other -possessions, would have been sold within a few months, and the great -fortune would have gone to charities.” - -“I see how it is,” said Jess, dryly; “you would lose a good home and -fine income--that is where your great interest lies, Mrs. Bryson.” - -The old housekeeper flushed a fiery red: she knew what Jess said was -quite true. She was considering her own interests when she urged -this marriage, but it was not pleasant to hear the truth dragged -unmercifully forward, and when it was just as well that it should be -hidden. - -“Very well, I’m going to marry this man just because you insist upon -it,” said Jess, bitterly. “I do not love him, and never will; and I -shall do quite well if I do not hate him outright.” - -“You will learn to care for him in time, my dear child,” declared Mrs. -Bryson, who was in no way disconcerted by the girl’s outburst. She -was used to Jess’ fiery temper, as she phrased it. She lost no time -in communicating the act to Lawyer Abbot, who came to the village to -congratulate the girl in person, and to assure her that she had taken -an eminently proper course in looking with favor upon the young man -whom her benefactor had selected for her husband. - -He was considerably flustered by the girl answering in her terribly -straightforward manner: - -“Perhaps I have, and perhaps I haven’t. All the books that I have ever -read have been unanimous in the opinion that a girl should not marry a -man unless she loves him.” - -“Tut, tut, my dear child; those were only love stories--romances, and -people are not romantic in real life, you know,” declared the astute -lawyer. - -“Then I pity the people in real life, and I wish I were the heroine in -a romance,” replied Jess, tossing her dark, curly head defiantly, “for -they are the only ones who live ideal lives.” - -The lawyer looked as he felt, bewildered, and he could see dimly -outlined in the future, breakers ahead for the young man--if she -married him. - -“She would be as likely as not to fall headlong in love with the first -strolling gypsy that crossed her path,” he ruminated as he looked at -her critically, “and then it would end in a divorce suit, or worse, if -anything could be worse. I almost believe the girl is right. A creature -of her fiery disposition should not have her hands tied in matrimony -without her heart has been won by the man she marries. I hope all will -be well; I can only hope it.” And as he looked thoughtfully out of the -window, a premonition of coming evil seemed to sweep over his heart. - -Suddenly he joined Mrs. Bryson, saying: - -“I have a plan to suggest which I think you will approve of. Jess -ought to be sent away for a few weeks where she will see something of -the world, and when she sees how well Mr. Dinsmore compares with the -generality of men, and learns by meeting them that they are not such -heroes as her vivid, romantic imagination has caused her to believe -them to be, she will be more--well, more satisfied with the future a -kind fate has laid out for her.” - -“Your plan is a capital one, sir,” replied Mrs. Bryson, “but I know of -no place that I could send her to.” - -“While we have been on this subject, the very place, an ideal home, has -occurred to me. Some few years ago, when I lived in New York, I had a -partner, a Mr. Trevalyn, who would be glad to receive her beneath his -roof on a visit, if I requested the favor. He has a charming wife, and -a daughter, Queenie, who cannot be so very much older than Jess. Would -you like to go and visit this New York family, my dear?” he asked, -turning to Jess. - -“Oh, yes, indeed!” exclaimed the girl, eagerly, her face dimpling over -with an eager smile. “All my life I have wanted to see what New York -was like. I’d love to go under one condition.” - -“You must let me know what it is before I can decide as to that,” said -Mr. Abbot, quietly. - -“Well, I wouldn’t like them to know that I was an engaged girl if I -went there. I wouldn’t like them to know there was such a man as Mr. -Dinsmore; nor one word of that crazy will.” - -“Why should you wish to conceal the fact of your betrothal?” asked the -old lawyer, wonderingly; adding: “Most young girls are more than eager -to proclaim such a fact, my dear.” - -Jess laughed, saying: - -“If you really want to know, I don’t mind telling you. They make all -sorts of fun down in the village of engaged girls. I shouldn’t want any -one to make that sort of fun of me; I wouldn’t bear it.” - -“Life in the city, and city manners, you would find quite different,” -replied Lawyer Abbot, quietly; adding: “But if you do not wish the -engagement known, I see of no reason to tell it. Mr. Dinsmore need not -be mentioned in any way, or even known there.” - -“Then I’ll go, Mr. Abbot. And, oh, I’ll be so glad to get away from -Blackheath Hall for ever so short a time,” cried Jess, dancing around -the room and clapping her hands in joy like a veritable child over the -promise of a holiday. - -Mrs. Bryson flushed a dull red. She had the very guilty and -uncomfortable feeling and knowledge that the grand, old place had never -been a home to the child any more than it had been to the wild birds -that were sheltered there at night under the broad eaves. Her existence -had been like theirs; she roamed where she would by day, until darkness -drove her back to the shelter of its roof; and so matters would have -continued to have gone on had it not been for that death abroad, and -the strange will which was the result of it, and which had named the -little Bohemian will-o’-the-wisp as one of the heirs of the vast -estate, providing the conditions contained therein were carried out. - -It had not been until then that Mrs. Bryson had taken the trouble to -cultivate Jess’ acquaintance, as it were, and now she felt keen shame -as she reviewed the past, and the little care she had expended upon the -girl who had been left in her charge. - -If the girl had grown up wild as a deer, and untamable as a young -lioness, she was to blame for it, she well knew. - -The wonder to her was that matters adjusted themselves by the young -nephew proposing to Jess at all. She realized that it would never have -been if the girl had not grown up as beautiful as a wild rose; and Jess -had no one to thank for her wondrous beauty but nature, which had made -her as perfect as it is given mortals to be. - -“All’s well that ends well,” said Lawyer Abbot to Mrs. Bryson, as he -was taking his leave. - -“But has it ended?” asked his companion, anxiously. “I shall always be -looking for something to happen to prevent it, until the girl actually -stands at the altar. Even then she is as likely as not to back out. -Jess does not realize the value of money, nor the fortune which hangs -in the balance, or what its loss would mean to her. All that she is -thinking about is that she does not love the man she is so soon to -marry. I repeat--how will it end?” - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. THE BETROTHAL. - - - “It is not much the world can give, - With all its subtle art; - And gold and gems are not the thing - To satisfy the heart. - But gentle words and a loving heart, - And hands to clasp my own, - Are better than the fairest flowers - Or stars that ever shone.” - -For the next few days there was great bustle and excitement at -Blackheath Hall over the expected departure of Jess. - -“She might as well begin her preparations at once,” Lawyer Abbot had -said, as he left, “for I feel sure there will be no doubt as to the -Trevalyn family receiving her. I will write at once, and have a reply -to that effect in the course of two or three days. In the meantime, -Jess can make her preparations to be ready to start on the next -northern-bound express after I have heard from my old friend.” - -Accordingly, Mrs. Bryson went at once to the nearest town and purchased -all that was needful for the journey, opening her purse-strings so far -as to procure a creditable outfit for the girl. She was determined that -Jess should not look like a veritable dowdy before the New York people, -whom Lawyer Abbot assured her were millionaires. - -But, alas for hopes which are perched too high! Quite as soon as the -mail could bring it, a reply was received from Lawyer Trevalyn, saying -that his wife and daughter, Queenie, were away from home, and would not -return for a month, possibly not for six weeks, later; and at that time -he would be more than pleased to receive as his guest the young girl of -whom his friend had written to him. - -Jess’ disappointment was intense when the lawyer brought the letter -over to Blackheath Hall and made known its contents to them. - -“I ought to have known how it would be,” sobbed Jess, throwing herself -downward, face forward, on the carpet, and weeping as though her heart -would break. - -“My dear child, don’t do that!” exclaimed Mr. Abbot, nervously. “You -try my nerves terribly--you do, indeed. Stop that crying, and we will -see if we cannot discover some loophole out of the difficulty. I have -it!” he cried, in the next breath. “I wonder that it did not occur to -me before. I have a brother, a farmer, living at the junction of the -roads a little over a hundred miles north of here. He has a daughter, -Lucy, and you can go there, if you like, and pass the time until the -Trevalyns, of New York, are home, and ready to receive you. It will -be exchanging one farm, as it were, for another. Still, it will be a -little change.” - -Jess dried her eyes at once. - -“I don’t like a farm,” she declared, ruefully. “Still, anything will be -better than humdrum life at Blackheath Hall.” - -“I need not accompany you there, my dear child, as I would have done -had you gone on to New York. I can simply place you in charge of the -conductor, whom I know quite well. My letter, explaining matters, will -have arrived a few hours in advance, and they will be down to the -station to meet you. Will that arrangement meet with your approval, -little Jess?” - -“Yes, sir,” responded the girl, quickly, smiling up at him like a rift -of April sunshine through her tears. - -“I am glad that we have found a way out of the dilemma,” he said, -heaving a sigh of relief, for the care of Jess, who was so suddenly -thrust upon his guardianship, was a sore trial to him. - -The next morning, bright and early, saw Jess taking her departure from -Blackheath Hall. - -“There is no one here who will miss me much--except the birds and -squirrels about the place, and the stray dogs,” and a very bitter -little smile crept up about her mouth, to note how much Mrs. Bryson -and all the servants were making of her now, after neglecting her so -pitifully during all the long years of the past in which she roamed -about as uncared-for as the stray dogs that crept there when the -wildness of the night forced them to seek shelter. - -Jess had left no one behind her who loved her, or whom she loved. - -As the train moved away from the station, the girl’s new life began. -Surely, the strangest fate that any young girl was ever to know. Who -shall say after that that the hand of fate does not guide us along the -path which destiny has marked out for us to follow at the time of our -birth? - -Jess paid strict heed to Mrs. Bryson’s warning to keep her veil drawn -carefully over her face; but through its heavy folds she could see -the green fields and silvery streams, the villas and towns, as the -lightning express whirled by them, and she was lost in wonder at the -great world that lay beyond Blackheath Hall. - -In her wildest imagination, she had never pictured the world so wide -as this. The hours flew by as quickly as the miles did, it seemed to -her, and her daydreaming came to a sudden end by the appearance of the -conductor, who began gathering up her bag and parcels. - -“This is your station, miss,” he said. “I am going to place you in -charge of Mr. Abbot’s brother-in-law, a Mr. Caldwell, who telegraphed -me to the station below that he was already at the station to meet you.” - -It was like a dream to Jess, she was so little used to traveling, and -was so bewildered, of being bustled out of the train, and led toward -a portly, old gentleman, who was advancing in all haste to meet the -conductor and herself. - -“Is this the little girl, Jess, whom my brother-in-law placed in your -charge, conductor?” she heard him ask, in a hale, hearty voice. - -She was too dazed to hear the reply. - -The next instant she was standing alone with the old gentleman on the -platform of the station, the train having suddenly dashed away and -hidden itself behind a curve in the road. - -“Come right this way to the carriage, my dear,” he said, wondering why -the girl trembled so, and why her little hands were as cold as ice on -this glorious October day. - -“See, there is the carriage, and there is my daughter, Lucy,” he -said, and glancing in the direction in which he was pointing, Jess -saw a roomy, old vehicle, and in the front seat, holding the reins -over a restless horse, a young girl of about her own age--a buxom, -rosy-cheeked girl, whom she liked immensely--on sight. - -The girl handed the lines to her father, and sprang out of the carriage -to meet the newcomer, saying: - -“We received uncle’s letter only this morning. I am Lucy Caldwell; -and you are Jess--Jess what?” she queried, in the same breath. “Uncle -forgot to tell us that. But, dear me, I must not stand talking. Jump -right into the back seat, and we can talk away to our hearts’ content -as we ride home. We haven’t far to go, and we wouldn’t have thought -about hitching up if it hadn’t been for your trunk.” - -Miss Lucy had been so busy rattling on in her voluble fashion that she -did not notice the flush that stained her companion’s face from neck -to brow as she questioned her concerning her name, which poor Jess had -none to give. Nor did she note that her query remained unanswered. - -“I am so glad to have a girl companion of my age,” declared Lucy, -settling herself back among the cushions. “Ma has settled it that you -are to share my room with me. I hope you won’t object to that?” she -rattled on, adding: - -“We have a spare room, as uncle knew, but he did not know that there -was one in it just now; not a visitor, oh, no, though he is ever so -much nicer than any visitor that comes here. To make a long story -short, he was one of the passengers who was on that train which met -with the terrible accident a few weeks ago, and was brought to us to -care for, more dead than alive. He progressed wonderfully, however, -and is nearly well now. I shall feel very sorry when he goes,” she -added, her voice dropping to a low key and faltering ever so slightly. -“His name is Moore, and, oh, he is so nice. See,” she cried, as they -neared the farmhouse, “there he stands at the gate, waiting for us, and -to see what you are like, most probably, for he heard uncle’s letter -read aloud at the breakfast table, and he, who has seemed so little -interested in anything, immediately took the liveliest kind of an -interest in your coming.” - -Jess’ eye followed the direction in which Lucy’s finger pointed, and -beheld a picture which was to be engraven on her memory while life -lasted; and this is what she saw: - -A tall, graceful figure leaning against the gatepost, his folded arms -resting upon it, his face, pale through illness, turned expectantly in -the direction in which they were advancing. - -“Odd,” he was muttering, between his compressed, mustached lips, “that -this girl, above all others, is coming here. - -“I suppose she is like the rest of her sex, false and fickle as she -is fair. It is well that I gave the name of Moore to these quiet farm -people, when consciousness after the railway accident returned to me, -in order that the affair might not get into the New York newspapers. - -“Unknown to her, I will study this girl, whom I was going down to -Greenville to see; ay, study her at my leisure, and find her--like all -the rest.” And he heaved a sigh which told plainly that he was bored -with life, its failures and regrets. - -“I suppose it is fate that I am to meet this girl whom my uncle was -so desirous that I should wed that he cuts me off in case I refuse to -comply with his insane wishes; otherwise, I would have fallen a victim -to Ray Challoner’s bullet, which came near enough to plowing my heart, -or to death in this railroad wreck, from which I was saved, by almost -a miracle. It would seem that my time has not yet come. It is strange, -when life has no gladness left in it for a man, that he should still be -compelled to live on. When I lost all hope of calling Queenie Trevalyn -my bride, I lost all that was dear in this world to me. I have hated -all womankind because of her falsity ever since. Even the farmer’s -daughter, Miss Lucy, bores me terribly with her many kindnesses.” - - - - -CHAPTER XX. “DO WE EVER LOVE THE WRONG ONE?” - - - “If love should come again, I ask my heart, - In tender tremors, not unmixed with pain, - Couldst thou be calm, nor feel thy ancient smart, - If love should come again? - - “Would Fate, relenting, sheathe the cruel blade - Whereby the angel of thy youth was slain, - That thou might all possess him unafraid, - If love should come again? - - “In vain I ask. My heart makes no reply, - But echoes evermore that sweet refrain: - If love should come again!” - -“Yes, the loss of Queenie Trevalyn was a blow which I can never get -over, though I believed myself a strong man,” he mused, the hard, -bitter lines of disappointment and pain deepening on his face, and -painting shadows in his troubled eyes. - -“And what a surprise it was to me to hear that letter read which the -farmer received from his brother-in-law down in New Orleans, which so -vitally interested me. How strange it is that this girl was to be sent -to the home of Queenie, in New York, and fate interposed in sending her -here where I am instead. But she shall not know me. I will take care of -that.” - -He had no opportunity to cogitate further, for the carriage by this -time had reached the gate where he stood. - -Lucy Caldwell did not wait for him to approach to assist her from the -vehicle, but sprang out with the nimbleness of foot which characterized -her. - -He looked rather eagerly for the second figure in the old carryall to -step forth, as he advanced. He was thinking of the letter which he had -received from his little Jess when he was at Newport, in which she had -described herself, and he wondered vaguely if the description she gave -him was true or false. He paused for an instant as he beheld the lithe, -slender, girlish figure seated within. He could not see her features, -for, contrary to his expectations, her face was concealed by a heavy -veil. - -Like her companion, she sprang from the carriage ere he could take -another step forward to proffer his assistance. - -“A society girl and belle,” he muttered, frowning darkly as his quick -glance took in every detail of her stylish traveling dress. “Now, why -under heaven did she give me such a false description of herself in -that letter she wrote me?” - -“I want to introduce you to Mr. Moore, Jess,” said Lucy, catching her -by the arm. - -A little, brown hand swept aside the heavy folds of tulle that covered -the girl’s face, and then Jess, with the same face as the picture he -had received from her, stood before him. He knew that she had not -misrepresented her character in her letter, when, the next instant, the -little, brown, warm hand was extended to him in greeting, and she said, -eagerly: - -“I know all about you and your awful mishap, Mr. Moore, and I am quite -as glad as Lucy is that you are getting well.” - -The impulsive action, and the straightforward words that accompanied -it, softened his heart in a measure toward her, although she was of the -sex whom he had sworn to himself that he should evermore detest with -the deadliest of hatred. - -“You are very kind, Miss--Miss----” he returned, with a low bow, -raising his hat with a gallantry which surprised Lucy, who was looking -on a little jealously, as she wondered if Mr. Moore thought the -stranger pretty. - -“Your sympathy is very pleasing, believe me,” he added, continuing: “I -suppose we cannot shuffle off this mortal coil, no matter what good -opportunities seem to be thrown in our way, until our time comes; at -least, it would seem so in my case, Miss--Miss----” - -“My name is simply Jess--nothing more,” said the girl, looking up into -his face with just the faintest suspicion of tears in her big, dark -eyes. “When names were given out, whoever was responsible for the -giving of them in my case, passed me by, it appears, either by accident -or design, so ever afterward I was known by the simple cognomen of -Jess--just Jess.” - -Somehow, as he looked into the lovely, young face, his resentment -against one of the sex which he had sworn to hate seemed to be melting -away, although he would have scoffed at the idea had any one told him -that an interest had sprung up in his heart toward the girl in the -first moment they had met. - -“Come,” said Lucy, “we will go to the house. We can talk afterward. -Mother and dinner await us.” - -And as the two girls got beyond the sight and hearing of Mr. Moore, -Lucy turned to her companion, saying: - -“What do you think of our invalid, as we often laughingly call him when -we want to tease him? Do you think him good-looking?” - -“He is more than that, Lucy,” returned Jess, gravely. “He is simply -splendid! I know of no word which will express it. We have just such a -pictured face hanging up in the library of Blackheath Hall, and it is -named ‘Apollo Belvidere,’ who is supposed to be the perfection of manly -beauty, so the legend runs which tells about him in old books.” - -“You have fallen in love with him at first sight!” cried Lucy, in -terror, her heart sinking and a stifling sensation creeping up to her -throat. - -Jess laughed a strange, little laugh. Stopping short in the path, she -suddenly threw her arms about Lucy’s neck, saying, with a laugh which -was almost a sob: - -“I never had a girl friend or a girl companion to make a confidant of -in all my life, and I would so love to make a confidant of you, Lucy; -may I? There’s something that I would love to tell you, if you would -never, never tell--never breathe one word of it to any living soul in -the whole wide world.” - -“Of course you can make a confidant of me, and tell me all the secrets -you have, and I’ll never tell them,” declared Lucy, solemnly. “You can -depend upon me. I’ve kept lots of girls’ secrets, and never told one of -them yet; I would not be so mean.” - -“Well, then, Lucy,” cried Jess, half laughing, half sobbing, “I -couldn’t fall in love with your Mr. Moore if I liked him ever so much, -for I’m engaged to be married to another gentleman, and--and it’s to -take place--the wedding, I mean--just as soon as I come back from the -visit to the Trevalyns, of New York. I never intended to tell anybody -that I was an engaged girl, but, somehow, Lucy, you have wrung the -truth from me in spite of myself, it seems.” - -“How delightful, and how romantic!” exclaimed Lucy, clapping her hands. -“You must confide to me just how it seems to be--engaged. I’ve wondered -about it so much.” - -Jess determined to tell her new-found friend all about her betrothal, -and how it came about, and also to confide to her the terrible secret -that was gnawing her heart out, like a worm in the bud; that she hated -the man, handsome though he was, to whom she had sent the note of -acceptance just before she had started away on her trip, in accordance -with the wishes of Mrs. Bryson, who had concluded that it was wisest -and best to nail Jess down with a solemn promise, by post, which had -been duly forwarded to the expectant lover at New Orleans on the -morning on which Jess had left Blackheath Hall. - -Yes, Jess concluded to tell Lucy all about it, but that could wait -until after she had her bonnet off and had been in the house an hour, -at least. - -“Her coming is not so much to be feared, after all,” breathed Lucy, -growing more amiable instantly. “I feared she would be trying to lure -Mr. Moore, whom I have set my heart upon winning, away from me. He has -not said so much as a word to me yet, but I am sure he intends to, else -why is he lingering here when the doctor said that he could go his way, -almost a week ago, if he so desired? - -“His waiting to recuperate still further, as he called it, was merely -an excuse to linger where I am, and he would not do that unless he was -in love with me, and meant to propose to me, Ma says.” - -For an hour or more, Mr. Moore lingered in the old garden, lost in deep -thought. At length he retraced his steps slowly to the old farmhouse. -Lucy was standing on the steps which led into the wide, cool kitchen. - -“What do you think of our guest, Miss Jess?” she asked, displaying -more anxiety in her tone than she was aware of. - -“She impressed me very favorably at first sight,” he answered, adding: -“I imagine she would wear well in a long and close acquaintance.” - -“Do you think her pretty?” persisted Lucy, eagerly. - -“Well, no, not as artists and critics define beauty. Still, she is -scarcely more than a child at present. She may become, in the years to -come, a girl who might be termed unusually handsome. Father Time is -so prodigal in his gifts in the flower of youth. And then, again, she -might develop into a--well, comparisons are odious, they say, and we -will make none in this instance, content to let time do his best or his -worst, as fate decrees.” - -He did not see a young face, half screened by the climbing rose -branches at the window directly overhead, nor did he, therefore, know -that the young person under discussion--Jess herself--had heard every -word of the conversation. - -Jess had drawn hastily back, her face as red as the great, dewy roses -that nodded to her from outside the window. - -From the first moment her eyes had met those of the handsome stranger -at the gate, the old life had seemed to fall suddenly from her. She had -said to herself: “Surely, this is the hero of my daydreams; the face, -come to life, of the Romeo whom Juliet loved, whose picture hangs on -the walls of Blackheath Hall, and like the boyish face, too, of John -Dinsmore, when he was a little lad, and came there to visit; and like -the bust of Apollo, too; and the knight’s pictures in the old books.” -And he did not think her fair: probably, on the contrary, he considered -her homely; he had said as much, and tears of wounded pride welled up -to the girl’s eyes. She never realized until that moment that she had -so much vanity to hurt. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. HOW EASILY THINGS GO WRONG. - - -For the first time in her young life, Jess lies awake through all -the long, dark, cool hours of the night. As a rule, her senses droop -swiftly into the lands of dreams quite as soon as her dark, curly head -touches the pillow. To-night the sweet boon of sleep is denied her for -the first time. - -She believes it is the great event of the journey which has unsettled -her, for it is the first time in her young life, that she can remember, -that she has been away from Blackheath Hall. Then she drifts into -thinking of the handsome stranger whom she met at the gate, and still -thinking of him, the long hours wear away at last, and morning breaks. - -It is a hardship for Jess to lie in bed after the pink dawn has ushered -in a glorious day, and, creeping silently out of her white nest, in -which Lucy is still sleeping soundly, she is soon dressed and out of -the house, exploring the grounds. - -There is another one beneath that roof who is an early riser, and that -one Mr. Moore, as he has permitted himself to be called. - -Looking out from his window, in the dewy light of the early morning, he -is amazed to see the lithe, slim figure of Jess gliding like a fairy -vision among the great rosebuds of the old-fashioned garden. - -And, furthermore, he is still more amazed to see her running over the -diamond-incrusted grass bare of foot, swinging her shoes and stockings -in her right hand as she hurries along. - -Last night he had formed the opinion of the girl--that she had deceived -him, when he had beheld her in all the furbelows of fashionable attire -in which she had made her appearance at the farmhouse; now he realized -that she was indeed a child of nature, with a heart as light and free -as a bird’s. - -He made haste to join her. - -Jess was not aware of his presence, for she had not heard his step on -the thick, green carpet of grass until a voice beside her said: - -“Permit me to gather those roses for you, Miss Jess. The thorns on that -bush are long and sharp; you will never be able to manage them, I am -sure.” - -A cry of dismay broke from the girl’s lips; down went the shoes and -stockings all in a heap in the dew-wet grass. - -For the first time in her life, Jess wished that the earth could open -and swallow her, for, standing directly in the path before her, was -the object of her thoughts, and he was looking amusedly down at the -bare, brown feet, which the green grass seemed to part wide to display, -instead of bending over and pityingly covering them from his sight. - -For the first time in her life, Jess was covered with a strange, -hitherto unknown, unexperienced, bashful confusion. - -“I did not know that any one would be up for hours yet,” she stammered, -gaspingly, thinking, shudderingly, of the awful bareness of those feet, -and that she would give anything that she possessed on earth if she -could cover them from his gaze--only cover them. A new, sweet shyness -was coming over her. It was the dawning of womanhood breaking through -the childish existence she had led up to the hour when she had first -met the gaze of the man standing before her. - -“Farm life means a life of early rising,” he returned. “They are astir -in the house, all save Miss Lucy. She is rarely visible before eight, -when half of the morning is spent, as I often tell her.” - -To the last day of her life, Jess is thankful to him that he turned -to the rosebush and began gathering roses, cutting them off with his -silver penknife; and, as he cut each one, slitting off the thorns. - -Jess never knew how she seized upon that moment of time to replace her -shoes and stockings, wet though they were, and the next moment, when he -faced about, instead of seeing the slender, brown feet among the green -grasses, which he had been so eagerly admiring, he noted that they were -now clothed; and he noted, too, that the girl’s face, as her eyes -followed the direction of his gaze, was covered with confused blushes. - -Handing her the roses, he said: - -“Shall we saunter over the hills, or shall I take you for a little sail -on a miniature lake which lies down in yonder valley?” - -“Neither. I--I am going back to the house,” she answered, a little -hesitatingly, “to--to unpack some books which I promised Mrs. Bryson I -would read a little of every morning.” - -“The books and reading can wait for an hour or two,” he urged. “This -is too fine a morning to waste indoors. This is October, you know, and -even in this sunny, Southern clime, it will not remain for long as -delightful as it is to-day.” - -The quiet mastery in his voice seemed to exercise a spell over her -which she was powerless to shake off or combat, and when he led the way -down the path, her feet involuntarily led her along in his wake. - -It was but a short walk to the lake, and when they reached it, bathed -as it was in the crimson light of the rising sun, Jess was enraptured -at the beautiful sight which it presented, and with the glorious white -water lilies which swayed to and fro on its glassy bosom, and the tiny, -white boats moored here and there along its flower-bordered banks. - -“I will go out for a row with you, if I may gather some of the lilies!” -cried Jess, enthusiastically. “Oh, how beautiful they are--and, see, -there is a bed of pink ones farther out.” - -“The lilies are fair to look upon, but they are unattainable,” her -companion answered, gravely. “They have cost every one who ventures -near enough to lay hands on them their life. It appears that in their -vicinity is an underground whirlpool, which draws down beneath the -water’s surface, and probably far down into the depths of the lake, all -who come within its reach. Therefore, I repeat, that one can admire the -lilies, but they cannot be gathered.” - -“The longing for them, while they are in my sight, and so near, will -spoil the pleasure of the row on the water,” said Jess. - -“You are like the moth who would flutter around the flame, although it -knows that therein lies danger, a singed wing, perhaps death,” he said, -slowly. “The lilies are not worth such a sacrifice.” - -“I should not mind making it to possess them,” declared Jess, very -coolly. “I should like to gather them, and surprise the folks at the -farmhouse by wearing them in to breakfast in my hair and in my belt.” - -An expression of deep annoyance crossed his fine face. - -“Vain, and proud of adornment--at any cost,” was his mental comment, as -he looked down at the eager, flushed face coldly. - -“I dare you to row me out to them, Mr. Moore!” she cried, shrilly. -“What do you say?” - -Without a word, he commenced to untie the boat. - -“You--consent!” cried Jess, excitedly, and with shining eyes. - -“I will go for them, alone,” he replied, quietly, stepping into the -boat, and with a dexterous movement pushing away from the shore almost -before she could divine his intention. - -“Oh, Mr. Moore, let me go with you, to manage the boat if--if it become -unmanageable!” she cried, her face blanched to a whiteness rivaling the -leaves of the snow-white lilies. - -He shook his head emphatically. - -“Can you swim?” called out the girl, as the little, rocking boat shot -out farther from her over the glassy waves. - -“No,” he answered, and that one brief word seemed to stifle and kill -the beating heart in her bosom as it fell upon her ears. - -Her great, dark eyes opened to their widest limit in horror too great -for words. - -“You cannot swim!” she gasped, faintly; then, in a fervor of frenzied -terror, she called to him: - -“Then come back. I do not want the lilies, indeed I do not.” - -But if he heard, he did not heed her words, nor the gasping words which -accompanied them. - -Out over the water sped the tiny boat, with almost the swiftness of an -arrow, under the measured strokes of his arms, while the girl stood on -the green, mossy bank, with locked hands and beating heart, watching -his every movement with terror-stricken conscience. - -“What if I have sent him to his death!” she whispered, hoarsely, and in -that moment the truth came to her--that this man, whose acquaintance -she could count by a few, fleeting hours, was more to her than life -itself. She had done as the heroine in the greatest book she had read -had done--fallen in love; lost her heart to this handsome stranger at -first sight. - -“Oh, Mr. Moore, come back! Come back!” she called, shrilly, repeating: -“I do not want the lilies; it was only a thoughtless, girlish caprice -which prompted me to dare you to get them for me. Can you hear me?” And -now her voice was raised shrilly in the most piteous agony. - -But he never once turned back toward her, and the echo of her wild -cries came back to her from over the dimpling waters and the forest -trees that lay beyond. - -On and on shot the little skiff over the sun-kissed waves, heading -toward the fatal spot where the alluring lilies lay so white and pure -on the bosom of the lake. - -“Oh, merciful God! if he would but hear, and heed me!” sobbed Jess, -wildly. “Why will he not?” - -But the waves that babbled on the green, mossy bank at her feet, and -the wind sighing among the boughs of the trees over her head had no -answer for her. - -Another moment and he would be within reach of the lilies. The girl’s -brain reeled and a deathly faintness stole over her, as she watched -every motion of the oars as they rose and fell, catching the gold of -the sunshine and carrying it down with them into the water’s dark depth. - -Standing there, with strained eyes, she saw him reach for the lilies: -then--all in an instant--boat and boatman were suddenly swallowed up -in the seething underground whirlpool, disappearing from sight, and -not even a ripple marred the spot to show where he had gone down--down -to death among the beautiful, shining, white water lilies that he had -risked sweet life for at her command! - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. THE RESCUE. - - - “The dream is over, and I stand - Alone upon the sun-kissed shore; - My heart is lone--empty each hand; - My love comes here no more. - Oh, hush! ye waves; dance not in play - When I am waiting here; - Ye breezes, pass upon your way, - There is no pastime here. - - “Oh, love, lost love, the world shall know - No more of this unfinished tale; - It shall not taunt with laughter low - Because I chance to fail. - And so, I stand alone and mute - Upon the bare, forsaken shore, - And broken is Love’s fairy lute. - I hear its notes no more.” - -For an instant, that seemed the length of eternity, Jess stood on the -bank, watching, with strained eyes, the spot where the boat and its -occupant had gone down to death among the treacherous lilies that -floated to and fro on the bosom of the waters. - -In all the after years of her life she could never fully explain just -how it was accomplished. The girl was only conscious of seizing a -little skiff that floated idly near at hand, and rowing for dear life -to the scene of the catastrophe. She was indifferent to the awful -danger, though she had just witnessed a cruel example of it. Her one -thought was to seek death in the same spot where the victim of her -foolish caprice had gone down to his untimely fate. - -In that moment her athletic powers stood the girl in good stead, for -the arms that wielded the oars were like steel, which told in the -powerful strokes with which she sent the little skiff fairly flying -over the placid water. - -In less time than it takes to describe it, Jess had reached the spot; -but her weight was too slight to capsize the boat, though she could -feel it being drawn down--down--down. - -She reached out and grasped the lilies, and as she did so, the boat -disappeared, and she was left struggling in the water, with apparently -the same fate which her hapless companion met awaiting her. - -And as she realized this, she realized also that her hands were -grasping something else beside the slimy stems of the lilies. One -glance, and the heart in her bosom seemed to fairly leap with wild -exultation and joy. Her fingers were clutching tightly the hand of the -man whom she had told herself that she would rescue, or she would meet -the same fate which had befallen him. - -By the strange ministration of Providence, in reaching out for the -lilies, he had fallen among them, and the thick network of stems had -borne him up, despite the underground springs which would have carried -him down had he not fallen in just the spot where fate had placed him. - -He had not lost consciousness, but was struggling with might and main -to keep his head above water. - -A cry broke from Jess’ lips, and her grasp tightened on his hand. - -“Courage!” cried the girl. “I will save you! Keep still and let me -float you along. I--I am an expert swimmer.” - -“No, no! Save yourself!” he cried, white to the lips. “I would only -hamper you. I have nothing left in life worth the effort of living for. -To you life is sweet; life is everything. Save yourself, girl--never -mind me.” - -If the girl heard, she did not heed his words, but grasping him the -more firmly with one hand, with the other she struck out into the -stream again, dragging him with her by main force. - -He was sorry that she had undertaken such an herculean task--this -slender child--yet he dared not struggle to free himself from her -grasp, knowing that it would not only retard her progress, but make it -doubly hard for her. - -With a courage that was almost superhuman, Jess struck out, dragging -her living burden after her. - -And with the strength of an Amazon, strength which had been developed -by her out-of-door life and daring exploits, the girl passed safely -over the mouth of the underground current, which yawned wide to -swallow her, and struck out valiantly for the shore. - -When she was within a rod or so of the bank, her splendid strength and -heroic courage seemed suddenly to fail her, and when within reach of -safety by but a few more strokes, she suddenly sank back. - -It was at this critical moment that he whom she had thus far brought -from a watery grave came to the rescue. - -The water was up as far as his neck, but he knew that the danger was -past. Catching the lithe form in his arms as she sank backward in the -water, he succeeded in bringing her quickly to the shore. - -When Jess returned to consciousness, she found herself back in the old -Caldwell farmhouse, in her own bed-chamber, with Lucy bending over her. - -“What is the matter? What has happened?” she exclaimed, with wide-open -eyes staring into Lucy’s white face. But before a reply could be given, -she cried out, shrilly: - -“Oh, I remember it all--the water lilies, and Mr. Moore going for them -because I dared him to--the accident, and how I tried to save him, for -he could not swim--and how everything grew black around me when within -but a few yards of the bank!” - -“Mr. Moore turned the tables then, and saved you,” said Lucy. “You -had brought him to wading depths; the rest was easy. It gave us all a -terrible scare when he brought you in, dripping wet and white in the -face as one drowned! And then he explained, in a word, almost, how it -had all come about.” - -“It was all my fault!” sobbed Jess. “Will he ever forgive me? I deserve -that he should despise me to the end of his life. If he had died! Oh! -oh! oh!” - -“Never mind conjuring up such a possibility,” declared Lucy. “Be glad -that he did not, and never send any human being into such danger again. -I hope this will be a warning.” - -“Don’t say any more,” sobbed Jess, pitifully. “Indeed, I feel bad -enough over it. Will you tell him that for me, Lucy?” - -The farmer’s daughter shrugged her shoulders. The turn affairs had -taken was not at all to her liking. Jess and Mr. Moore were getting -along altogether too famously in their friendship to suit her. They had -not known each other twenty-four hours, and now Mr. Moore owed his life -to the girl, and she, in turn, owed hers to him. - -It was with some little trepidation that Jess entered the presence of -Mr. Moore, late that afternoon. The feeling was so strong within her -breast that he would hate her for sending him to the death which he -missed so narrowly. - -He held out his strong, white hand to her, with a grave smile which -disarmed her fears at once. - -“I am so sorry it happened,” she faltered. “Do you forgive me?” - -“Certainly,” he responded. “That should go without saying. I may also -add, but for that affair I should never have known what a brave and -daring little girl you are, I have to thank you profoundly for the life -you have saved to me, useless though I find it, and wish also to add -that hereafter it is to be devoted to you and your interests, if you -will allow it to be so. If life and living were sweet to me, I should -thank you for giving me a chance to continue them.” - -Jess was puzzled at his words. She was too young, and had too little -experience with the world, to comprehend them fully. - -The entrance of the family interrupted the reply she would have made -him. - -But from that hour the friendship between the two ripened wonderfully. -Each hour little Jess fell deeper and deeper under the glamour of a -spell which she could not cast off--the glamour of a young girl’s -awakened heart, with its sweet throbbings, proclaiming that it had -learned its first lesson from the book of love, and the lesson -enthraled her. - -What Mr. Moore’s feelings were it was hard to conjecture. - -One moment he hated all womankind, for the sake of the one he had found -so fair and so false--beautiful Queenie Trevalyn, whom he had loved too -well, and to his bitter cost. - -Then he found himself softening toward one of the hated sex--little -Jess, whose heart was as innocent and pure as a little babe’s. - -He wondered if she would ever have the heart to draw a man on to -declare his love, and then, when she found that he was not possessed of -wealth, discard him as unconcernedly as she would a withered flower of -which she had grown tired. - -Had it not been for his cruel lesson in that unhappy past, he might -have looked with favor upon the girl whom his uncle picked out for him -to wed--might even have learned to care for her, though she was little -more than a child, while he was a man of the world, too used to finding -all things different from what they appeared on the surface. - -A week passed, and during that time he was thrown constantly into the -companionship of Jess. - -To him she was nothing more than an innocent, young girl, a very -happy, thoughtless child; one who would grow, perhaps, in the years to -come, into a very interesting woman. Further than that, his thoughts -regarding Jess never traveled. - -He remained at the farm simply because the cause which would have -taken him down to Louisiana--to see this selfsame little Jess--was now -removed. - -He had now no need to go to the mountain, as it were, for the mountain -had come to him. - -He wondered idly at the interest the girl seemed to take in his -society, with never a thought as to whether he was rich or poor. -But, then, she was very young; all such worldly knowledge as to the -importance of making a good match--that is, marrying a man who had -money--would come to her later. - -And at the thought a bitter smile curved his lips, a smile accompanied -by a heavy sigh. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. VAIN REGRETS. - - - “Ah, they know not heart - Of man or woman who declare - That love needs time to do or dare. - His altars wait--not day nor name-- - Only the touch of sacred flame.” - -The week which follows the advent of Jess to the old farmhouse Mr. -Moore will never forget. It is a changed place. - -Lucy Caldwell, the farmer’s daughter, is a quiet girl, quite as -ladylike as many a city-bred, boarding-school miss. But Jess is -decidedly the reverse. - -She bounds up and down the carpetless stairs, three steps at a time, -whistles ear-splitting snatches of coon songs, as she describes them to -Lucy, bangs doors and romps about to her heart’s content, all of which -indicates that she is perfectly happy. She is so content in the old -farmhouse that she does not care if the Trevalyns never return to their -home. She could stay at the farm forever; yes, forever. - -She does not realize, child that she is, what causes her exuberance of -spirits, what is it that makes her so wondrously joyous and contented. -She only realizes that every hour of her life is filled with a new, -sweet pleasure--the pleasure of being so much in the company of Mr. -Moore. - -Jess’ first thought in the morning, upon waking, is of him, and her -last thought at night, until she trails off into deep, healthful -slumber, is of the handsome, kingly man who makes the days pass so -delightfully for her. - -Mrs. Caldwell and her daughter note with alarm Jess’ fondness for Mr. -Moore’s society, and comment on it in no kindly manner. - -“She behaves most outrageously for an engaged girl,” declared Lucy. -“Her betrothed ought to know how she is flirting with another man -when out of his sight, and Mr. Moore ought to be advised that she is -not fancy free. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! why did I allow myself to become -pledged to silence in regard to the matter? But for that I could tell -him. She cares so little for her _fiancé_ that she has not even written -him a line since she has been here--which is quite a week now. Why, -every other young girl who is engaged, and who is away from the man she -is to marry, writes to him every day of her life, I am sure. I know -that is the way that I should do.” Lucy even ventured to drop a hint to -Jess regarding this matter, and she never forgot the effect which it -produced upon her, to the last day of her life. - -They were standing together out on the porch. Jess was watching eagerly -down the road, in the direction Mr. Moore was sauntering, her cheeks -slightly flushed, and her eyes full of a bright light which Lucy had -not seen there before. - -“I can guess of whom you are thinking, Jess,” she says, lightly. - -A great flood of crimson stains Jess’ cheeks, quickly extending from -chin to brow, as she wheels about and catches Lucy’s gray eyes, which -have a malicious gleam in them. But this she does not note. - -Before she has time to utter the words that rise to her lips, Lucy -adds, smoothly: - -“Of course, you were thinking of the young man whom you are soon to -marry. How strange it is that you have not heard from him since you -have been here. Now, were I in your place, I should feel worried, to -say the least.” - -Jess throws herself face downward on the red-painted bench of the -porch, sobbing as though her heart would break. - -All in an instant she had been hurled from the heights of bliss down -to the very depths of dark despair. She had forgotten Mr. Dinsmore -completely for one short, happy week, as completely as though he had -never existed. - -“Oh, how cruel of you to remind me, Lucy,” she sobbed, bitterly. “You -have brought me from heaven back to earth.” - -“You are talking wildly, and in riddles,” remarked Lucy, sharply. -“Why should you not be pleased to hear of the man whom you are soon to -marry? Yours is a strange sort of love, I should say.” - -Then the truth came out. Jess could keep it back no longer. - -“I do not love him. I--I fairly hate him,” she sobbed, vehemently. “I -wrote to him in accordance with--with--the expressed desire of one who -is dead--that I would marry him, and I have been regretting it every -hour of my life since.” - -“You ought to be ashamed to acknowledge such a state of heart,” -returned Lucy, indignantly. “It is sinful!” - -“I cannot help it. That is just how I feel,” cried Jess, great sighs -welling up from her heart to her lips. - -“You have promised to marry a young man whom you do not love!” repeats -Lucy, for the first time realizing that part of Jess’ excited remarks. -She was about to add: “How could you do it?” Then she thinks better of -what she was about to say, and goes on: “Mother says the greatest love -has often commenced with a very decided aversion.” - -“I must marry John Dinsmore, but I shall hate him till the day I die!” -sobbed Jess, vehemently. - -They have been so absorbed in their conversation that neither of the -girls noted that Mr. Moore had made a tour of the grounds and entered -the best room by the side door, and stood by the open window, looking -out at them, screened by the heavy, white curtains. - -He had heard the last words of that conversation, and stepped back from -the open window, with a very strange pallor upon his face, but it soon -gave place to the cynical smile that played about his lips. - -“Woman-like, she is not disposed to lose the Dinsmore fortune,” he -muttered. “She is worldly enough for that, childlike though she -appears,” and he turns on his heel and walks as noiselessly out of the -room and out of the house as he has entered. - -There is a sneering expression on his handsome, cold face. - -“Yes, she is like that other one,” he thinks, “willing to barter -herself for glittering gold and the pleasures it may bring,” and he -thinks of the lines which he applies to all womankind: - - “Away, away; you’re all the same, - A flattering, smiling, jilting throng! - Oh, by my soul! I burn with shame - To think I’ve been your slave so long! - Away, away! Your smile’s a curse; - Oh! blot me from the race of men, - Kind, pitying Heaven, by death or worse, - Before I love such things again.” - -And as he walks quickly along, smoking the cigar which he has lighted, -he thinks, amusedly, that the girl’s resolve to marry him is like the -old quotation of counting chickens before they are hatched; for he -has not as yet asked her hand in marriage--that marriage which is so -distasteful to both of them--and then he falls to abusing the will -which would tie them together for life--two who had not the slightest -affection for each other. - -He wondered, as he smoked, what Jess would think if she knew that he -was the obnoxious person whom that will had dealt with. He regarded her -with a glance of keen scrutiny as she hurried down the walk and up to -the rustic bench where he was seated an hour later. - -“I--I want to ask you a question, Mr. Moore!” she cried, breathlessly. -“Will you answer it?” - -“If I can,” he responded, gravely, as he tossed aside his cigar, and -made way for her on the rustic bench. But, instead of accepting the -seat, she threw herself, with childish abandon, in the long grass at -his feet, looking up at him with those great, dark, limpid eyes, which -reminded him of a young gazelle. - -He leans back and watches her. - -She seems in no hurry to unbosom herself as to the question she has -intimated that she is so eager to ask. - -He looks at her curiously. He does not understand this queer child--for -woman she certainly is not--and before he knows it, he is drawing a -comparison between her and the girl who jilted him so cruelly because -he was not rich--beautiful Queenie Trevalyn, and at the thought of his -lost love, his brows contract with a spasm of pain, and a stifled groan -breaks from his lips. Yes, he was comparing Queenie and Jess. That -cruel wound is still gaping open, and every thought of Queenie gives -his heart a stab of the keenest pain, and for the instant he forgets -the girl at his feet, remembering only that summer and the beautiful, -false face that drew him on like a lodestar, only to wreck his heart on -the bitter rock of disappointment. - -And at the memory of it all, he covered his face with his hands and -groaned aloud. - -Jess was a child of impulse. With no thought of the imprudence of her -action, in an instant she was on her feet, and in the next a pair of -warm arms were thrown about his neck, two terror-stricken, childish -eyes were looking into his, a soft face was close to his, and Jess was -crying, excitedly: - -“Oh, Mr. Moore, are you sick? I’m so sorry. I wish it were I instead -of you. No, that is not just what I want to say. What I mean is that I -wish that I could take it from you, or suffer it in your stead, that -you might be free from it.” - -And the young voice which utters the words quivers with emotion, and a -little gust of tears, wrung from an anguished, little heart, fall upon -his face. - -He is so startled for a moment he is fairly speechless--struck dumb -with astonishment. If a thunderbolt had fallen from a clear sky, or the -ground had suddenly opened beneath his feet, he could not have been -more astounded. - -The touch of those soft arms about his neck fairly electrifies him. He -starts back, turns a dull red, then flushes hotly, as he looks at her -and tries to answer. - -“Ill! No,” he replies. “I am not ill, thank you, Miss Jess,” he says, -at length, and he laughs a little, forced laugh, as she stands and -looks at him in wonder, her arms having fallen at her side. - -She is dimly conscious that she has made herself ridiculous in his eyes -by her solicitude, and that her impulsive action throwing her arms -about him had greatly offended him, and she wondered vaguely, as she -stands before him covered with confusion, how she ever dared do it. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. ONLY AN IMPULSIVE CHILD. - - -Mr. Moore looks at the girl standing before him long and earnestly; -then, reaching forward, he catches her hands in one of his own, asking, -slowly: - -“Why should it matter to you, little one, whether I was ill or well? -Why should you care?” - -“Because I like you so much,” answered the girl, unconscious of what -her words implied. “I should not be quite happy unless you were happy, -too.” And she looked up, with those frank, childish eyes of hers, -directly into his face. - -“Why do you like me, little Jess?” he queried, somewhat huskily. - -“Because you have been so kind and gentle with me, and I am little used -to either; and, then, you have never censured me, as I had every reason -to believe you would do, for being the cause of you nearly losing your -life. If you had let me drown, when it was in your power to do so, it -would have been serving me exactly right, you know.” - -He looked down into the childish face, with strange emotions throbbing -in his breast. Of all people the world held, not one of them had ever -told him, up to the present hour, that they liked him, or cared to see -him happy. On the contrary, the great, cruel world had hustled him -about sharply, and every one had been only too eager to trample him -down, utterly regardless of his feelings, whether he was doomed to -misery or not. - -Long and earnestly he debated with himself as to whether he should tell -her that he was John Dinsmore, instead of Mr. Moore, as she thought -him, the hated being whom the elder Dinsmore had stipulated in that -ridiculous will that she should wed, or lose a princely fortune. - -But at last he decided that it would not be amiss to sound her in -regard to her feelings first, before disclosing his identity to her. -But ere he could proceed to do this, fate, in the shape of Lucy -Caldwell, the farmer’s daughter, intervened. - -She was hastening toward him, with a paper in her hand. - -From the house she had seen him grasp and hold Jess’ little hand, and, -fearful that he was growing overfond of her pretty visitor, joined -them hurriedly, to prevent the attempt at sentimentalism, telling -herself that Jess should never have the opportunity of being alone with -Mr. Moore again if she could prevent it, and she would certainly be -ingenious enough to head off any _tête-à-têtes_, with her mother’s aid. - -Down the path came Lucy, with a haste unusual to her, and at her -approach the gentleman dropped Jess’ hand, not altogether displeased at -the interruption which had caused the words he was about to utter to -remain unsaid for the present. - -“Your New York papers, which you are always so anxious about, have -come, and here they are, Mr. Moore,” she said, handing them to him, the -heightened color flaming up into her face as he thanked her, expressing -the regret that she should put herself to so much trouble as to bring -them out to him. - -“There is a letter for you inside the house, Jess,” she said, turning -to his companion. “Uncle Abbot wrote to papa from New Orleans, and a -Mrs. Bryson--I think he said she was the housekeeper at Blackheath -Hall--incloses one for you, which, he wrote, was of the greatest -importance, and must be delivered to you at once.” - -Reluctantly, Jess followed Lucy to the farmhouse. She had little -curiosity to read Mrs. Bryson’s letter. She would rather have remained -outside in the golden sunshine talking to and worshiping her hero under -the great oak trees. - -Meanwhile, the hero in question was following the forms of the two -girls with a troubled glance. - -“If she knew who I was, she would hate me,” he mused, “but, not -knowing, I have the deepest, truest and warmest friendship that young, -girlish heart is capable of giving.” - -He thought of the words he had somewhere read, “that the love which -is tenderest and sweetest in a woman’s breast has its birth in -friendship, gradually growing into a deeper passion.” Then again his -eyes took on the look of cynical coldness so habitual to them. - -“Bah!” he cried; “what man is mad enough to trust the happiness of -his future in the hands of a girl of sixteen, when he has passed the -boundary line of thirty? She might like me in her childish way now, but -at five-and-twenty she would have her eyes opened to her folly, and -hate me most cordially.” - -Then he turned his eyes to his paper most moodily, and was soon fathoms -deep in its pages, as it were, all forgetful of Jess, and the incident -which had stirred his heart like wine--the clasp of those soft arms -around his neck. - -He had turned the second page of the _Herald_, and was running his eye -leisurely down one of the columns, when an article met his eye that -drove every vestige of color from his face. Like one stunned he read -the caption: - - “A Brilliant Marriage in High Life. Miss Queenie, the Only Daughter - of Lawyer Trevalyn, of No. -- Fifth Avenue, New York, Married at Noon - To-day to----” - -He could see no more, for a blood-red mist floated before his eyes; his -hands trembled so that the sheet before him was rent in twain at the -very column he had been reading, so tense was the strain of his clutch; -then, like a dead one, he fell face downward under the trees, suffering -from the keenest pain a human heart can know. - -He was so far from the house, so far from all human sound, that the -bitter cries that welled up from the depths of his anguished soul could -not be heard. - -And, lying there, he wept as few men weep in a lifetime. He had known -that it must come; he had been watching for it; he had not missed one -of the New York papers since he had been ill. He had sent for the -back numbers from the day he had been stricken, and had scanned their -columns with an intensity which nearly brought on a relapse when he was -enabled to sit up to read them. But the article for which he searched, -and dreaded so to behold, did not appear. - -“Had anything occurred to break off the match between Ray Challoner -and his lost Queenie?” he would ask himself over and over again. And -with that thought came the glimmering hope, if that were the case, he -might even yet win her, for the fortune which she craved was now his -through the sale of his books. - -Then he would thrust the thought from him with loathing. No! a thousand -times no! He would never buy a wife. He would go unwedded to the grave -first, and he hated his own weakness for still craving her love and her -presence. - -He had expected this intelligence, yet when the blow fell, it was as -though it had killed the living, beating heart in his bosom, withered -it, as lightning blights and withers a giant oak and fells it to the -earth. - -Queenie was married at last, and to his rival. That was the one thought -that whirled through his brain, and almost drove him mad. - -She was lost to him forever! Ay, as much as though she lay in the -grave, and again and again such terrible waves of grief swept over him -that they threatened to dethrone his reason. He did not care to live an -hour longer. All that he loved on earth was lost to him. - -He had loved Queenie Trevalyn as few men love in a lifetime. She had -drawn him on, encouraged him by all the wiles with which a finished -coquette ensnares her victims, and then had cast him off without the -least compunction. - -But, ah, how strange a thing is the human heart. Through it all, no -matter what had befallen him at her fair, false hands, he loved her -still, with a love which refused to be killed. - -Although he hated himself for his weakness, he would have given all he -had in the world, ay, his very prospects of Heaven! if he could have -averted that marriage. Ay, given every dollar of the wealth which had -come to him too late, to have been standing on the spot where he was -lying now (with his face buried in the long grass, uttering bitter -moans) with Queenie Trevalyn’s hands clasped in his, looking down into -the depths of her wondrous eyes listening to her dulcet voice, though -in his innermost soul he realized that every word those sweet, rosy -lips were uttering was false--false! - -“I must banish such a wish or I shall, indeed, go mad!” he sobbed, -dashing his hand over his eyes, as though he could shut out the picture -which his memory conjured up at will. - -But it was useless; he had loved too well, and the wound was too deep. -If he had a revolver with him in that hour, the rest of his life story -would never have been written, for he would have ended it then and -there. - -How long he remained there like one stunned he never knew. He took no -heed of the flight of time. He was suddenly brought to a realization of -his surroundings by the touch of a little hand, cool as a lily leaf, -upon his burning brow, and Jess’ voice saying, in alarm: - -“Now I know that you are very ill, indeed, Mr. Moore, when I find you -lying here where I left you hours ago, and groaning so,” and the dark, -curly head was bent down close to his, and Jess began to cry bitterly -over him, stroking his face, and then his clenched hands, as a child -might caress a loved animal lying at her feet cruelly hurt. - -“Don’t, Jess, little girl!” he whispered, in a choking voice. “I am not -ill, as you think, believe me; and I thank you for your sweet sympathy. -Surely, you are the only being on the wide earth who has the least -interest in me, whether I am sick or well, or whether I live or die.” -And with those words, a strange resolve came to him to marry Jess, that -she might have the fortune, and then make away with himself at once and -end it all! - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. “WILL YOU MARRY ME, LITTLE JESS?” - - - “Ne’er with laurel wreath around me, - Have I wreathed my weary brow, - Since to serve thy fame I bound me-- - Bound me with a solemn vow. - Evermore in grief I languish-- - All my youth in tears is spent; - And, with thoughts of bitter anguish - My too-feeling heart is rent. - - “Joyous those about are playing, - All around are blest and glad, - In the paths of pleasure straying-- - My poor heart alone is sad. - Spring in vain unfolds each treasure, - Filling all the earth with bliss; - Who in life can e’er take pleasure, - When is seen its dark abyss?” - -Although Mr. Moore had schooled himself to meet the blow that some day, -sooner or later, he should hear of the marriage of Queenie Trevalyn, -when that day arrived the shock almost killed him; he was dazed, -bewildered, stunned by it. All of a sudden his splendid courage and -pride gave way, as did his self-control, and lying there in the long -grass where he had fallen, he sobbed like a child--and it was thus that -Jess had found him. - -He did not try to rise as the girl bent over him; indeed, all his -strength seemed suddenly to have left him. Jess’ sweet pity and -sympathy, as she stroked his face with her little hands, soft and cool -as rose leaves, were very acceptable to him just then, in the first -throb of his bitter woe. - -“I am very sure you are ill, and will not let any one know,” she -declared. “Do let me help you to this bench, where you can sit down -until you are able to come to the house. In the meantime, I will go and -fetch you a glass of cold water from the old well; that will revive you -very quickly.” - -“No,” he said, clutching at her hands, “never mind going for the water. -See, I--I am better now,” and as he spoke he struggled to his feet, -staggered over to the garden bench and sank down upon it. - -“I should like you to sit down here beside me, little Jess,” he -whispered, hoarsely; “I have something to say to you.” - -For some moments he sits in utter silence, looking across the tops of -the waving trees--looking, yet seeing nothing, for he is busy with his -own conflicting thoughts. - -Jess watches him wonderingly, trying to read the thoughts that cause -his handsome, grave face to grow graver still and his lips to twitch. - -“It will be better so,” he ruminated. “It would be selfish of me to -shuffle off this mortal coil without doing some one good deed for the -benefit of some human being; and what better act could I do than marry -this child, that she may, in accordance with the will, receive the -great fortune which otherwise she must miss, and be thrown, penniless, -upon the world? Directly after the ceremony I can explain to her that -I am the John Dinsmore whom she dreaded so, and then quietly go away, -waiving all of my rights to the inheritance in her favor.” - -“Of what are you thinking, Mr. Moore?” she asks, wistfully. “Whatever -it is,” she adds, slowly, “it is almost making you cry again.” - -“I was thinking of you, and trying to decide your future,” he answers, -slowly, “and it culminated into the one question I now ask you: Will -you be my wife?” - -“Your wife!” she gasps, wondering if she has heard aright, and -believing she must be in some strange, sweet dream from which she will -awaken in another instant. - -He nods, dumbly. It is a great effort for him to utter the words, and -his lips refuse to repeat them. - -“Do you really mean it, Mr. Moore?” - -Again his lips refuse to perform their service, and he nods assent, -almost regretting the proposal, now that it has been uttered and is -past the power of being recalled. - -He does not look at her, or he would see how the warm blood has leaped -into the rosebud face, and the round, dimpled cheeks have taken on -a carnation hue, and the dark eyes are shining like stars. Nor does -he know that those words have called her young heart from her bosom -in a great, warm gush of love. He thinks more of her than she ever -dreamed he did, she is telling herself, as she puts one hand over her -fluttering, little heart, while the other creeps up to her blushing -face. - -Indeed, under the circumstances, and taking the girl’s ignorance of -life and the world into consideration, she should not be blamed for not -realizing that there are other motives than affection which actuate -men’s actions at times, and that this was one of them. - -His wife! He must love her well to ask her to be that, and the -blood--which has been flowing so sluggishly in her veins ever since -she has read in Mrs. Bryson’s letter to her that on the following day -her visit would be brought to a close--leaps wildly now, and her heart -gives a great bound, and goes out to her companion warmed with the fire -of a young girl’s first love. - -“What is your answer, little Jess?” he asked, with an effort. “Is it -yes--or no?” - -For answer, she throws herself into his arms, like the impulsive child -that she is, and, clinging to him, cries: - -“Oh, I am so happy--yes, I will marry you, Mr. Moore. But, oh! won’t -they be surprised at Blackheath Hall, for they think I am to marry that -horrid Mr. John Dinsmore, whom I perfectly hate.” - -He holds her off at arm’s length, and his keen eyes read her face -scrutinizingly, as he says, slowly, anxiously: - -“I hope you will never regret the action, Jess. Always remember that in -asking you to marry me I was studying your best interest, as you will -understand when you are old enough to realize all.” - -“Jess! Jess! where are you?” cries Lucy’s voice, from down the path; -“Jess! Jess!” - -“Go to her, and say nothing of what has transpired,” whispers “Mr. -Moore,” releasing her hands and pushing her from him. “I will see you -here early to-morrow morning, and will have arranged everything by that -time. Good-night, Jess!” - -He made no attempt to stoop and kiss the lovely, young face turned so -expectantly up to him; indeed, it never occurred to him to do so. - -Another instant and the slim figure was hurrying down the path in the -direction of Lucy’s high-pitched voice. - -“Mr. Moore” stood with folded arms, looking after her. There was no -lover-like ardor in his breast; no passionate thrill of triumph filled -his heart to think that he had won so lovely a young creature; only a -sort of weary, stoical resignation, with the thought surging through -his brain that he had sacrificed himself upon the altar of stern duty. - -In fact, he pitied himself when he thought of what was before him; -but it never occurred to him to pity the girl, who was far more to be -pitied, in all her fresh, young bloom and trustful innocence. - -Even Lucy wondered at the expression of Jess’ face when she entered the -house, where the bright rays of the lamp fell full upon it, for there -was a glory on it that made her companion marvel. - -She could not help thinking of her mother’s comparison, in speaking of -Jess, that she always looked like a blushing rose. Surely, she looked -it to-night, with that vivid crimson bathing her cheeks and brow. - -“I want to help you to pack, Jess,” she said; “you forget you are to -take the noon train, and there is always so much to attend to at the -last moment.” - -“How good you are, Lucy,” said Jess, laying her soft, warm cheek -against her companion’s. “You are tired, while I have done nothing the -livelong day; I should not let you add to your weariness the packing of -my trunk.” - -“It will be a pleasure for me to do it for you,” declared Lucy. She did -not add that she would not know a happy moment until Jess, with her -pretty, dimpled face and starry eyes, was well away from the farm, and -the presence of Mr. Moore. - -In an incredible space of time the little trunk was packed by Lucy’s -nimble hands; then it was time to retire, and for the second time in -her young life Jess was unable to sleep. - -For hours she thought of the wonderful thing that had happened--Mr. -Moore had asked her to be his wife, and she had said “Yes,” and -to-morrow morning he would tell her what his plans were regarding it. - -When she did fall asleep, she dreamed of her hero as she always had -done every night since she had been beneath that roof, and, strange -to say, she dreamed that Mr. Moore had kissed her--a thing he had not -ventured to do, in reality--and the girl was quite sorry to awaken at -last and find that the bliss of the kiss she had felt upon her lips was -only the vagary of an idle dream, and the impulsive child wished that -the sweet dream had been a reality. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. LOVE. - - - “From whence does he come, and whither he goes, - There is not a mortal in all the world knows. - He comes in a smile, and goes in a kiss, - He dies in the birth of a maiden’s bliss; - He wakes in a tear, he lives in a sigh, - He lingers in hope, refusing to die. - But whence he does come, and whither he goes, - There is not a mortal in all the world knows.” - -Her wedding day! That was the first thought that entered Jess’ mind, as -she opened her eyes the next morning, and with a bound she was out of -her couch to see from the window what fate portended in the way of a -cloudy or a sunshiny day for her. - -It was as yet too early to determine that, for the first gray streak -of dawn had not appeared in the eastern sky, and the early mornings -were always misty, and every branch and shrub and blade of grass was -burdened by great drops of dew. - -“I am sure the sun is going to shine,” she ruminated, “and that will -mean: ‘Happy is the bride the sun shines on,’ as the old saying goes.” - -Jess made all possible haste with her toilet, and hurried down as fast -as she could to the grounds; but, early as she was, Mr. Moore was there -before her. - -He greeted her in the same grave, dignified manner habitual to him, it -never occurring to him to offer her the slightest caress, even though -she was his promised bride; and before the sun reached the zenith she -was to be his wife. - -He smiled a little as she came fluttering down the garden path, and at -the eager face she raised to his in greeting. - -“How early you are,” she cried, putting out her little hand to him. “I -did not think you would be out for hours and hours yet, and here you -are before me, and it is not yet five o’clock; you are out of your nest -earlier than the early birds are.” - -He did not think it necessary to tell her that he had not been in his -nest all the long night through, but had spent the long hours between -dusk, that deepened into midnight and then stretched away into early -morn, in pacing up and down under the sycamore trees, looking the -future in the face, and bidding farewell to the dearest hopes of his -life. - -Jess knew so little of the habits of lovers that his lack of eagerness -or affection in greeting her passed unnoticed. - -He took out his watch and glanced at it. - -“There is a long walk before us, and I think we had better start at -once,” he said, abruptly; “we can return in at least a couple of hours, -and during that time we shall not be missed. - -“You are sure you are willing?” he asked again, as they reached the -garden gate. - -Jess looked up shyly into the grand face. She would have gone to the -other end of the world with him. But she answered only a simple “Yes.” - -They walked on through the early morning together, side by side, and -to the end of her life, ay! and in the years when she understood it -better, she remembered her companion’s white face, grave even to -sternness, and his preoccupied air. - -He did not notice the beautiful rosy dawn that flushed the eastern sky -directly before them, nor the birds, as they awoke from their nests and -went soaring away toward the blue dome that bent above them; nor did he -see the flowers lift their sleepy heads and shake the dew from their -drowsy eyelids. - -Jess cast furtive glances at her companion, her heart beating and her -every sense tingling deliciously at the thought that she was on her way -to be married to the handsome gentleman by her side, from whom she was -to be parted nevermore. - -How different were the thoughts of her companion as they neared their -destination, and the moments advanced in which his bonds were to be -sealed for life--they seemed irksome beyond the possibility of bearing, -and nothing but his strict idea that he was doing his duty restrained -him from asking little Jess to release him from the marriage which had -been forced upon him by his uncle’s odious will. - -The people of the village were all astir as they reached it; and when -they made their way to the rectory which lay beyond, they found the -good man who presided over it out in the little garden which surrounded -the parsonage. - -The handsome stranger who accompanied the young girl made known his -errand as briefly as possible, asking if he could perform the marriage -ceremony which would make his companion his wife at once. - -The rector smiled benignly. - -“As quickly as the words can be uttered, my good sir,” he replied, as -he invited them to step inside the house. - -The little parlor, with its simple, meager furnishings; the tall, -handsome man by her side, with almost the ghastliness of death on his -face; and the kindly, old minister, book in hand, ever afterward seemed -like a weird dream to little Jess. She did not even hear the name her -bridegroom uttered in so low a voice, and he saw that she did not; and -he promised himself that he would surprise her with the startling truth -that he was John Dinsmore on their way home. - -She heard the words which the minister uttered, and which her companion -repeated after him: then she was dimly conscious of repeating the same -words--though the name she uttered was John Moore--and then, as the -hand of her bridegroom clasped her cold, fluttering fingers, she heard -the old minister solemnly say, in a still more far-off hazy voice: - -“I pronounce you man and wife; and those whom God hath joined together -let no man put asunder.” - -Even in that supreme moment the deathly pale bridegroom made no offer -to kiss the little bride who clung to him as tightly as if in affright. - -The minister noticed this omission of the usual custom of newly-wedded -pairs and marveled at it--the bride was so young, so sweet and so fair. - -The good man was rather astounded at the amount of the bank note which -the bridegroom placed in his hands. - -He watched them depart, as they had come, down the high road; and -over and over again he asked himself the question whether or not the -handsome man loved the girl whom he had just wedded. - -“It was certainly not for money he made her his bride,” he ruminated, -“for of the two, I should say that he had the wealth and she only her -sweet youth, beauty and innocence.” - -Mr. Moore uttered no word until they were almost in sight of the -farmhouse again, much to Jess’ great wonderment. - -At last he turned to her, and said, abruptly: - -“Fate has had her way, her plans have been carried out to the letter, -and you are now my wife, little Jess.” - -“Your wife!” murmured the young girl, shyly. “I--I almost imagine it a -dream, it seems so--so unreal.” - -“Why does it seem so?” he asked, abruptly, not caring so much for her -answer as for the fact that it would give him a few moments more while -she was talking to nerve himself for the ordeal of talking the future -over with her, and incidentally, of course, revealing his identity. - -“Because all of the brides that I have ever heard of or read of went to -the church to be married, and wore long, trailing dresses of white and -bridal veils, and carried in their hands great bouquets of roses; and -when it was over there were ever and ever so many carriages around the -church door to take the bridal couple and all of the friends who had -assembled to witness the ceremony to some place where a grand feast was -in waiting, and then there was dancing and making merry.” - -“Poor child! What a contrast your own hasty marriage has been; but -always remember, come what will, that I took this step for the best, -for your welfare and happiness only. Promise me that you will always -keep that thought before you when you look back at this day and hour,” -he said, huskily. - -She promised, without having the least notion of what his words -implied, but through it all she felt a vague feeling of disappointment, -she could feel the tears rising to her eyes. Not that she was not as -desperately in love as ever with the handsome man whom she had just -wedded; just what it was that was weighing so heavily upon her young -heart she could not have explained. - -While he was thinking how he should best break the truth to her that he -was John Dinsmore, the words were stayed on his lips by Jess remarking: - -“Won’t Mrs. Bryson and all the rest at Blackheath Hall be surprised -when they hear that I am married, though? And they, hurrying up as fast -as they can to get my wedding clothes ready to marry another. I am -going to tell you a big secret--now that I am married to you, I must -keep nothing from you, you know. If I had not met and married you, I -should have had to go home and have married the other handsome fellow, -who is so much in love with me, and who has just left Blackheath Hall -for New Orleans to arrange matters for us to go there on the wedding -trip. Won’t he be disappointed, though, and won’t those black eyes of -his flash lightning when he hears what I have done? I half pity him, -poor fellow, he was so desperately in love with me--at least, so he -said, and every one else said so, too.” - -John Dinsmore stopped short in the daisy-studded path, his face grown -even more ghastly than when he stood before the minister. - -“Tell me, girl!” he cried, hoarsely, grasping her arm as in a vise, “do -I understand you to say that you had another lover to whom you were -preparing to be married at the time you came here?” - -“Oh, what have I said, what have I done, that you are so angry at me?” -cried Jess, piteously, cowering from the awful sternness that crept -over his face and shone in his eyes. - -“I want the whole truth, and I must have it, here and now, before we -proceed one step farther,” he said, slowly and harshly. - -“Tell me about this man of whom you speak, when and where you first met -him. Who is he? If I have understood you aright, you are as fair and -false as others of your sex. While he was making preparations for a -marriage with you, you have coolly jilted him by marrying another--for -what purpose Heaven only knows! Probably you fancied I had more money. -I know they credit me here with being enormously wealthy.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. DECISIONS. - - - “Down deep in my heart, in its last calm sleep, - A dear, dead love lies buried deep; - I clasped it once in a long embrace, - And closed the eyes that veiled the face - I never again might see. - I breathed no word, and I shed no tear, - But the onward years looked dark and drear, - And I knew, by the throbs of mortal pain, - That a sweetness had fled which never again - Would in life come back to me.” - -Looking up into the face of her companion, Jess saw that it was ghastly -white with horror, his lips trembled with unconcealed emotion. Anxiety -and sorrow, mingled with impatience, darkened his brow. She gazed at -him wonderingly, and like one fascinated. - -“Tell me,” he repeated, “is this thing true, that you have thrown over -another, a good and true man, who is at this moment making preparations -to marry you, to wed me?” - -She tried to answer him, but his sternness terrified her; she had never -dreamed that that handsome face could look so rigid and fierce, nor -those dark eyes hold so much fire and scorn. - -Her trembling lips moved, and all he could hear were the words: - -“Hard and cruel.” - -“Hard and cruel!” repeated her husband, looking down upon her with -bitter contempt; “it is you who have proven yourself to be that by -doing such a cruel, unwomanly act. I could never have thought you -capable of inflicting such a cruel wrong upon one who loved and -trusted you--to his bitter cost!” - -“Have I acted so very wrong?” cried Jess, clutching her two little -hands together tightly and looking up into his eyes with a face as -white as his own. - -“Wrong!” he exclaimed, contemptuously, “we will waive that, Jess. You -have done that which I will never pardon. Now tell me why you did -it--what actuated your course?” - -Still the girl was silent, fairly bewildered by his words. - -“I think I can see through it all,” he went on, bitterly; “but let me -hear the truth from your own lips, dispelling my mad delusion that you -were young and guileless as an angel, and not a fortune hunter, like -others of your sex. You say you were about to wed another. When did you -meet him, and where, and who is he? I repeat,” he questioned, sternly. - -“He is a handsome young man whom I met at Blackheath Hall,” murmured -the girl, as though the words were fairly wrung from her lips, and she -would tell no more than was actually forced from her. “He saved my -life, and--and when he asked me to marry him, and told me to think it -over while he was away at New Orleans, I wrote him that I--I consented, -and that the marriage should take place, as he so desired, as soon as I -could get ready. While they were making my trousseau I was to spend a -few weeks with a New York family, ‘to get my manners polished up,’ to -use Mrs. Bryson’s words, and--you know the rest--Fate led me here.” - -While she had been speaking her companion’s face had grown whiter -still, if that could be. He realized that he had made a fatal mistake -in supposing this girl had been waiting for him--John Dinsmore, the -joint heir with her to Blackheath Hall--to come down there to ask her -to marry him. - -In that moment of excitement it did not occur to him to press the -question as to his name, since she did not seem inclined to inform him -concerning it. Indeed, what did his name matter to him, he ruminated, -moodily. - -She loved that other fellow or she would never have consented to marry -him, was the thought that passed with lightning-like rapidity through -his brain. She had also believed Lucy Caldwell’s report that he himself -was fabulously rich, and, as that other love of his had done, thrown -over the poorer suitor for the richer one. - -He had been intending to tell Jess on their way back to the farmhouse -that he was John Dinsmore, who had also been expected to come to her -and lay his heart and fortune at her feet; now his lips were dumb. He -decided to keep that fact a secret from her for the present, until -he could see a path out of the dilemma in which he found himself; -determining that for the present she should know him only as Mr. Moore, -the man whom she had married on the impulse of the moment. - -There was another decision he reached then and there, and that was, -that he would lose no time in untying the knot between them which had -been so hastily tied; and then, with the fortune which would be hers -because the will of the elder Dinsmore had thus been complied with, she -would be free to wed this lover who would be so heartbroken over her -loss. For, of course, he must have been wedding her for love alone, it -being well known all about where she lived that she would be penniless -if she did not marry the heir of Blackheath Hall. - -Yes, he would divorce Jess as soon as the law could accomplish it; that -would be a shade better than to shuffle off the mortal coil to set her -free, after giving her the right to the Dinsmore fortune. - -In his calculations the bare possibility of another lover had never for -an instant occurred to him. - -All this changed his plans of the immediate future very materially. - -He had been intending to announce their marriage as soon as they -returned to the farmhouse, but under the present turn of affairs, he -concluded that secrecy for the present was best. - -“You are very angry with me!” sobbed the girl, wretchedly, and these -words aroused him from the deep reverie into which he had fallen. - -“You have stabbed me at my weakest point, little one,” he answered, -very huskily, “reopened a wound which I have been endeavoring valiantly -to heal. Of all things, I cannot endure a girl who throws off one -lover coolly for another. I despise of all things, of all women, I -mean, a jilt!” - -Ah! if Jess had but told him the exact truth at that moment what a -lifetime of pain would have been spared her; had but explained to him -that she was fairly forced into the betrothal with that other one by -Mrs. Bryson, the old housekeeper, because that other lover represented -himself to be John Dinsmore, the heir of Blackheath Hall. Ah! what -investigations would have been instigated at once, and what cruel wrong -averted! - -But fate’s thread was strangely tangled, and they were intended to play -the bitter tragedy out to the end, and suffer all the sorrows that fell -to their lot. - -“Owing to the existence of these difficulties which have just arisen -we must keep our marriage for the present a most profound secret,” he -said, slowly; “say that you will do this, little Jess?” - -“I will do whatever you think wisest and best,” murmured the girl, -vainly struggling to keep the tears back from her dark, wistful eyes. - -“That is right,” he replied, hurriedly. “See, they are looking for you, -as usual. Enter the house as though nothing unusual had transpired. -You must go with Lawyer Abbot when he comes to take you away with him -to--to the Trevalyns of New York; and I will communicate to you after -you have reached there, in, say, a week or a fortnight at most, the -course our future is to take. Until that time, adieu, little Jess.” - -She had no time to answer him; indeed, she could not, for her poor -little heart was almost bursting with grief at the thought of parting -from him. - -It seemed to Jess that in leaving him she would leave all the -brightness and joy of her young life behind her and go forth into -rayless darkness and woe. - -“Where have you two been?” cried Lucy, looking anxiously from the one -to the other; “my uncle, Lawyer Abbot, is here, and he is very much -afraid you will cause him to miss his train.” - -“I am sure the rich and elegant Mr. Moore has not been making love to -her, or her face would never wear that woe-begone expression,” thought -the clever Lucy, and her spirits arose high at the anticipation of -Jess’ departure, which was now only a few moments distant, which would -give her Mr. Moore all to herself, and she mentally resolved that no -other pretty young girl should come visiting her while he was beneath -that roof. - -To the girl who had just been made a bride, and was bound by a solemn -promise that the marriage should be kept secret, the parting from her -handsome husband who was bidding her good-by so calmly was like tearing -her living, beating heart in twain. - -It was not until the carriage rolled away and the tall sycamore trees -screened him from her sight as he waved an indifferent adieu to her -from the porch that Jess broke down utterly, weeping as though her -young heart was broken. - -“Are you indeed so sorry to leave Lucy Caldwell?” asked the old lawyer, -in wonderment, adding, “dear me, in what a short time young girls learn -to care for each other, it would appear. Three weeks ago you did not -know that there was such a girl as Lucy on the face of the globe, now -you are crying your eyes out at leaving her. Brace up, little Jess, -Lucy shall pay a visit to the Trevalyns along with you, if I can -arrange matters. So be comforted, child, that promise will make you -happy, I know.” - -But, despite this assurance, little Jess still continued to weep on, -refusing to be comforted. - -It was well for her that he did not divine the cause of her tears. - -The parting to the newly wedded husband was of little consequence; -he felt that he had accomplished the duty his dead uncle had imposed -upon him, of marrying the girl that she might inherit the Dinsmore -millions--that was all there was of it. - -He would have been amazed had any one even hinted at the possibility -that the girl he had just wedded cared for him, loved him with all the -passionate strength of her young heart, and that it would take two to -sever the bonds which bound them together. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. THE DARKENING CLOUDS. - - - “Ah, cruel as the grave, - Go, go, and come no more! - But canst thou set my heart - Just where it was before? - Go, go, and come no more! - Go, leave me with my tears, - The only gift of thine - Which shall outlive the years.” - -The letter which Jess had received from Mrs. Bryson of Blackheath Hall -on that memorable day on which she was to prepare for her journey to -visit the Trevalyns--had contained another item that had troubled the -young girl greatly. - -It ran as follows: - -“We were greatly surprised, and need I add, pleased, by an unexpected -visit from your affianced husband. Mr. Dinsmore was greatly troubled, -however, over the fact that you had been permitted to go away from the -hall. - -“‘Mischief will come of it. A presentiment which I cannot shake off -tells me so.’ He seems so downhearted over it that----Forgive me for -breaking my promise to you, Jess. I thought it wisest and best to tell -him where you had gone, to visit the Trevalyn family of New York. I -also told him of the little incident which had intercepted your visit, -and that you were on the farm of Lawyer Abbot’s brother-in-law, but -were to start for New York with Lawyer Abbot the day after my letter -reached you. - -“Still he did not seem to be thoroughly satisfied. He walked the length -of the drawing-room up and down with knitted brows, his face haggard -and anxious. - -“‘I repeat that I fear mischief will come of it,’ he declared. ‘Jess is -a girl who has never been away from the seclusion of Blackheath Hall. -She does not know the world of men and women beyond these confines. Ten -to one she will as likely as not fall in love with some farmhand there, -and marry him out of hand, or elope with him, or do something equally -hoydenish. You know Jess is not like other girls.’ - -“To appease his annoyance, we agreed that he should meet you and Lawyer -Abbot at the first junction the other side of Caldwell, and finish the -journey with you.” - -It was little wonder, after reading that, that Jess had consented at -once to wed the man of her own choice when he had asked her to do so, -and made no demurrer when he declared the marriage must take place -without delay--that marriage that seemed now almost like a dream to -Jess as the train bore her quickly away from her newly made husband. - -Her thoughts were so confused she did not realize what she had said or -done that he should get so angry with her on that homeward walk. It was -the last drop in her cup of sorrow when he parted so coldly from her, -without one good-by kiss, one tender word of farewell. - -Jess had watched the tall figure out of sight, and then gave way to the -bitterest, most passionate weeping that her girlish eyes had ever known. - -But to return at this point to Ray Challoner, who was passing himself -off so successfully as John Dinsmore, the heir prospective of -Blackheath Hall. - -When he had returned to the hall from his hasty trip to New Orleans, it -was with the full determination of pushing the marriage forward to a -climax as quickly as possible. His rage knew no bounds when he learned -that fate had served him so dastardly a trick as to send Jess away on a -visit. - -He thanked his stars, however, that the trip north, to the home of -Queenie Trevalyn, in New York, had been intercepted. - -He was quick to plan, and equally quick to execute, and he determined -that Jess should never get to the home of his former sweetheart, -Queenie Trevalyn, if by human ingenuity he could prevent it, for it -would never, never do for Jess to tell them that she was soon to marry -the hero of that past summer at Newport; for, if she were to describe -him, the description would be so vastly different from what they knew -John Dinsmore to be, that investigations would be sure to be set on -foot, and the wild plot of Raymond Challoner to win the Dinsmore -millions would be frustrated--nipped, as it were, in the bud. - -He remembered Queenie Trevalyn’s parting words to him: - -“From this hour we are bitter enemies, Mr. Challoner. Enemies to the -death. You have insulted my pride, and the day will come when you will -bitterly rue it!” - -To lose him this heiress would be just the kind of revenge most -pleasing to Queenie Trevalyn, who realized all too well his love of -wealth and luxury. - -No; Jess must never reach New York and hear the story of how John -Dinsmore had been Queenie’s admirer, and all the rest she had to tell, -for no doubt, out of pique, Jess would not take him then, believing him -one and the same John Dinsmore, of course. - -No; he would meet Lawyer Abbot and Jess ere they reached New York, -manage somehow to get the lawyer out of the way, and then marry Jess -then and there, whether she would or no, and by fair means or foul. - -But once again fate checkmated him. By a change in the railroad -schedule, which took effect on the day she started north, Raymond -Challoner missed Lawyer Abbot and Jess, and consequently they went on -to New York one train in advance of him. - -He raved and cursed like a madman when he reached the junction where he -expected to meet them and found this to be the case. He would have to -go by a train which reached New York some seven hours later, there was -no help for it, and he was therefore obliged to make the best of the -matter after his chagrin had worn itself out. - -As the lightning express bore him along, he contented himself with -laying out his plans. - -Of course it would never do for him to go to the home of Queenie -Trevalyn calling himself John Dinsmore, as he inquired for Jess--never -in the world. He must wait and watch for the first opportunity of -seeing Jess alone, and then, well, then he would carry out his -deep-laid plan of marrying the girl ere she ever had the opportunity of -returning to the house. - -He bethought himself that the best, and the safest place for him to go, -in the meantime, was his Uncle Brown’s. - -“Not that the old curmudgeon will be glad to see me; more than likely -he will shut the door in my face; but I’ll swallow down that insult, -or any more that he may offer, to see if it is possible to patch up a -truce with him and get into his good graces again. I am sure that he -has cut me off without a shilling, as he notified me that he would do. -Still, while there’s life there’s hope, as the old saying goes.” - -Upon reaching New York Raymond Challoner suited the action to the -resolve, and made his way to his uncle’s home at once. He took a cab -until he reached within half a block of his destination, then dismissed -the vehicle, knowing that it would never do for his miserly old uncle -to behold him indulging in the luxury of riding. - -“Hello!” muttered Challoner, rubbing his eyes in amazement as he stood -before the street number he was looking for, “am I mad, or do my eyes -deceive me? The place painted, and lace curtains at the windows, and -an air of luxury around his miserly abode. Surely something out of the -ordinary run of events has transpired. The old man has slipped off this -mortal coil, or rented the house to some one who knows better than he -did how to keep up a house in a first-class neighborhood--that will be -a pride, instead of a disgrace and a nuisance to the people on both -sides of him. - -“He vowed he would live here till the day he died. Now, who knows if he -changed his mind in this instance, he might do it in the affair of the -will--make a new one leaving his vast possessions to me? Well, well, -we shall see. If others live here now, they can probably give me some -information as to where the old bundle of bones, or, rather, my dear -uncle, has gone to.” - -He ran lightly up the steps and rang the bell, noting that even the old -bell had been removed and a brand new silver one of latest design had -been put in its place. - -In answer to his summons a liveried servant opened the door. - -The recognition was mutual. - -“Master Raymond!” exclaimed the man, while that young man uttered in -the same breath: “Dan! togged out in fine feathers, or do my eyes -deceive me?” - -Before he could answer, Raymond Challoner went on, wonderingly: - -“What is the meaning of all this change, Dan? Has my uncle taken to -living like a prince in his old age? I should as soon have expected to -see the world suddenly come to a standstill.” - -“There’s a mighty change in the old place, sir, I can tell you; and -the reason for it is plain enough. Master Brown has taken to himself a -young wife, sir,” answered the man, enjoying the amazement on Raymond -Challoner’s face. - -“My uncle married!” he gasped. “I can hardly credit the evidences of my -own ears, Dan. I am dumfounded--bewildered!” - -“I knew you would be, sir, when you came to hear of it,” returned the -old servant, watching the young man’s white face, and almost pitying -him, even while he did not like him, for he knew that the information -he had just given him was Raymond Challoner’s deathblow to the -expectation of inheriting a penny from his uncle. - -“Is he within, and can I see him?” asked the young man, pulling himself -together by a mighty effort. “Dan, I must see him!” - -The old servitor looked exceedingly uncomfortable, as he answered with -hesitancy: - -“I am sorry, Mr. Ray, but my orders from him were to deny you -admittance if you ever came here and asked for him.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. “LEAVE MY HOUSE.” - - - “To look for thee, sigh for thee, cry for thee - Under my breath; - To clasp but a shade where thy head hath been laid, - It is death. - - “To long for thee, yearn for thee, sigh for thee, - Sorrow and strife; - But to have thee, hold thee, enfold thee, - It is life--it is life.” - -“So he has bidden you turn me from his door in case I ever have the -temerity to present myself?” repeated Challoner, dryly, his thin lips -under his mustache curling into an unmistakable sneer, and a look not -pleasant to see creeping into his eyes. - -“Those were his precise words, sir,” assented the man, quietly. “He -is in, but it would do little good to tell him that you were here; he -would go off into a towering rage, and you know what that means. He is -worse than ever, sir, when he gets into a tantrum. It would be as much -as my place was worth, Master Raymond, to tell him you were here and -wished to see him.” - -“Let this be an inducement to you to do my bidding,” said Challoner, -slipping a bank note into the man’s hand. “Make what excuse for my -presence you deem best--that the door was left accidentally open and -you found me standing in the hall--anything.” - -“I will act upon that suggestion, as it is a clever one, Master -Raymond,” and he turned and left him pacing angrily up and down the -corridor. - -“Married!” muttered Raymond Challoner between his clinched teeth. “That -is indeed a blow to me. But even now I ought not to lose hope. Perhaps -there is some way of making him jealous and casting her off. I will -think up a plan to part them just as surely as my name is----” - -His meditations came to an abrupt ending, for, raising his eyes, he -beheld the tall, angular form of his uncle standing there before -him. How long he had been standing there regarding him thus keenly, -Challoner did not know. He wondered vaguely if he had been muttering -any part of the thoughts aloud that had been whirling so madly through -his brain. He could only hope not. - -“So, you have presented yourself here after my express orders that -you should never darken my door again, have you?” cried the old man, -harshly, his keen gaze penetrating his unwelcome visitor like the sharp -blade of a knife. - -“Forgive me, uncle,” replied Ray Challoner, affecting an earnestness -which would have deceived any one else save the man standing before -him. “I know you said that, but it was in the heat of passion. I had -hoped that you would find pardon for me as time melted your heart, and -reflection showed you that I could not be so bad as they had painted me -with the hope of belittling me in your eyes.” - -“Liar, forger, thief--and--murderer!” hissed the old man, taking a step -nearer him and glaring into his face. “Could anything on the catalogue -of vices add to the shame as such a record as has been yours, unless I -add to the true bill--libertine--which you are as well?” - -A red flush crept over Challoner’s face, and the dangerous look -deepened in his eyes again--a fact not unnoted by the elder man. - -“I washed my hands of you some time since, and so I informed you,” -went on the old man, harshly, adding: “Then why are you here? You have -gotten into some new scrape from which you wish me to extricate you, -I’ll be bound. But, by the Lord Harry, I shall not do it. I will see -you hanged first! You never come near me excepting when you want to -wheedle money out of me. I know you like a book, Raymond Challoner, and -you are a book whose pages I have closed forever and will never reopen.” - -“If you will give me time to speak, and will listen to me, I will tell -you why I am here,” retorted Challoner. “I have been in no scrape, as -you term it, nor am I in need of money. I heard that you were ill and I -came to your side in all haste.” - -The old man laughed aloud, declaring, harshly: - -“In that case you came to see if you could influence me to make a new -will in your favor, or, if you could get me alone, and I was too weak -to resist you, to choke me into complying with your wish, eh?” - -“You are hard upon me, uncle,” responded Challoner, huskily, wondering -if the old man had the powers of a sorcerer that he could read his -thoughts so correctly, for that very thought had passed through his -mind. “It seems of little use to tell you that I have mended my ways, -having seen the folly of them, and that I am now giving myself up to -work--hard work.” - -“You--work!” roared the old man, contemptuously. “Don’t tell me that, -for I know that you are lying. You would never put in an hour’s honest -work as long as money could be filched in any way from some victim -or other. You are no good in the world; on the contrary, a continual -injury to some one--whoever is unlucky enough to fall in with you. I -will have none of you! Go from my presence! Leave my house more quickly -than you entered it. Your very plausible tale about being anxious over -the state of my health does not work with me, I tell you. Begone! -before I call the police to remove you, or, to speak more plainly, to -throw you into the street!” - -Raymond Challoner drew back and looked at the man before him. They were -all alone, this man who was goading him on to madness, and himself. All -alone! - -“Go! or I will most assuredly carry out my threat!” cried the old -man, raising his voice shrilly. “You are wanted up at Saratoga for a -felonious assault upon a man, which ended in his death. I knew when I -read of the peculiar mark which the murdered man’s temple bore, of a -triangle with a large stone in the center, probably a diamond, whose -hand it was that dealt the murderous blow, but because my blood flowed -in your veins I made no sign--I held my peace.” - -“You could not prove the accusation you are daring to make,” cried -Challoner, trembling like a tiger ready to spring. - -“There are many, I fancy, who would be only too ready to do that,” -retorted the old man, laconically. - -Raymond Challoner’s bad blood was up. He never thought of the -consequence, and quick as a flash he thrust out his right hand, dealing -a powerful blow at the man before him. But, quick as he was, the other -was quicker. He stepped aside just in time to escape the terrific blow -aimed at him. But in so doing he forgot that he had been standing so -near the flight of stone steps that led to the basement below, and ere -he discovered the fact, one fatal step backward sent him crashing down -the entire flight! - -The accident had been witnessed by two of the servants, who were -just about to ascend the stairway. They had not seen the old man’s -antagonist strike the blow at him, for he was beyond their line of -vision, but they had seen him step backward. - -When he was hurriedly raised, they found that he was unconscious, and -suffering from a severe scalp wound. - -Raymond Challoner was equal to the occasion. In an instant he had -leaped down the stone stairway and was bending over the stricken man, -expressing the wildest grief for the accident. - -“Carry him to the sofa in the rear parlor, and let a doctor be sent -for at once,” he commanded, and the servants, recognizing him as the -injured man’s nephew, hastened to do his bidding. - -“The young wife is out driving,” said Dan. “I do not know where to send -for her, sir, but I expect that she may be in any moment.” - -“Never mind her,” was the brief response. “She could do no good if she -were here, but on the contrary would be in the way. All we can do is to -make him as comfortable as possible until medical assistance arrives.” - -This was done, and the old man was placed on the sofa, with the -curtains drawn back as far as possible to let in the light of the -November afternoon which was fast waning. - -Although it was near dusk, it was still light enough for the doctor to -attend his patient without lighting the lights when he arrived, which -was a very few moments after he had been summoned. - -Ray Challoner stood by the improvised couch with apparently much -solicitude. - -The old man’s head had scarcely been bandaged ere there was the sound -of silken skirts in the corridor without. - -“It is my lady,” exclaimed old Dan, hurrying forward to acquaint her -with what had transpired. - -Instinctively Raymond Challoner’s eyes sought the door for the first -glimpse of the woman who had cheated him out of a fortune by wedding -the old miser, as his uncle was called--for his gold. - -He was standing in the shadow of the portières when she entered. - -One glance, and he could hardly repress the cry of amazement that -hovered on his lips. His eyes encountered the tall, willowy figure of -Queenie Trevalyn. - -Challoner hastily turned up his coat collar and pulled his felt hat -down low over his eyes, that her eyes, in sweeping around the room, -might not recognize him. - -“Mrs. Brown, I believe,” said the doctor, stepping forward and bowing -profoundly to the lovely young woman who came hastily into the parlor, -her costly silken robe trailing after her on the velvet carpet. - -“Yes,” she answered, adding in a hurried voice that somehow had a note -of eager expectancy in it: “The servants tell me that my--my husband -has met with an accident. I trust it is not of a serious nature.” - -“Yes--and no, madam,” replied the doctor, bluntly. “For a younger man -the accident would be nothing. Your husband’s age is against him. It is -all in the attention he receives whether he recovers or succumbs to it.” - -Was it only the doctor’s fancy, or did he behold a gleam of -satisfaction in the eyes of the old man’s bride, as he uttered the last -four words? - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. HIS UNCLE’S BRIDE. - - -The shock of finding Queenie Trevalyn the bride of his aged uncle -can better be imagined than described. Raymond Challoner was fairly -dumfounded at it. He could almost have believed his eyes were playing -him some amazing trick in tracing such a resemblance, until he heard -her speak. - -There was no mistaking that smooth, perfect, melodious voice that every -one who heard it at Newport had likened unto the chiming of silver -bells, it was so deliciously sweet. - -But just now there was a harsh, jarring strain in it that revealed all -too plainly the nature of her thoughts and hopes. - -Glancing up at that moment she caught the eye of the young man who -stood on the doctor’s left, with his coat collar turned up and his hat -pulled so low down over his face that his eyes only were visible. - -She started confusedly. Where had she seen just such a pair of eyes as -were those regarding her so fixedly? Where? - -The doctor’s voice recalled her to the fact that the old man who called -her wife, the old man whom she had wedded for his fortune, was lying -before her mortally hurt, and she must pretend great sorrow and anxiety -concerning him, though she felt it not. At the first glance at the -white old face lying against the pillow, her heart gave one wild leap. - -What if his injuries were fatal--and he should die? Then, ah, then she -would be free to recall John Dinsmore, the man she had found out to her -bitter cost that she really loved--and marry him. - -No wonder she started guiltily at the bare notion that the stranger -with the piercing eyes was reading her very heart thoughts. She made an -effort to answer the doctor’s remark with seeming agitation, caused by -grief. - -Pressing her dainty point-lace handkerchief to her eyes she murmured -behind its folds: “If his recovery depends on his being carefully -nursed, you may be sure that we will have him up and about as quickly -as it can be accomplished.” - -“I am sure of it, madam,” replied the doctor, with a low bow. “I shall -send a trained nurse to you immediately,” he went on briskly, “and in -the meantime, I would ask that you administer the powders which I shall -leave you, every fifteen minutes. Failure to do this would be fatal.” - -“I will attend to it myself, until the nurse you speak of arrives,” she -murmured. - -Promising to return in the course of an hour or two at the very latest, -the doctor took his leave. - -Glancing furtively about, Queenie did not see the stranger who had -stood beside the doctor, and she concluded that he must have been an -assistant, and that he left with the doctor. Still, the lurid gaze of -those eyes haunted her--she could not tell why. - -“Ah! I have it!” she cried fiercely, at length, after she had dismissed -the servants, telling them that she would watch beside her husband’s -couch, and that she would call upon them when she needed them. “Yes; I -know now where I have seen just such eyes. They looked out at me from -the face of false, fickle Raymond Challoner, that never-to-be-forgotten -day at Newport, when he stood before me and told me that our betrothal -which had lasted just one day, would have to be broken if I had been -so unfortunate as to lose the vast fortune which I was credited with -having. - -“It was in that bitter hour that I learned the worth of a true love, -such as John Dinsmore’s, which I had flung away for the idle fancy of -such a creature as Raymond Challoner. - -“Raymond Challoner, you who ruined my life, where are you now, I -wonder? If we ever meet again, just as surely as I live, I will take a -horrible vengeance upon you. - -“I have wealth now,” she went on, wearily, “and will be one of the -wealthiest women in the great metropolis. But, ah, what is it worth to -the love of one true heart that I could love in return?” - -And the beautiful woman sank back in the cushions of the velvet chair, -and something very like a tear glistened in the proud, dark eyes. - -Then she suddenly pressed her hand to her heart, muttering: - -“There may be happiness in store for me yet, but it will be after he -dies and leaves me freedom and his wealth,” and she gazed intently at -the white face which seemed to grow whiter still under the softened -rays of the gas jets with their opaline shades. - -The little French clock on the mantel struck the hour. - -Queenie started to her feet. - -“It is time for the first dose of powders which the doctor left,” she -muttered, reaching her jeweled hand toward the table for them. - -Then suddenly her hand dropped to her side and she glanced furtively -about the luxurious room. - -“If I did not follow the doctor’s instructions in regard to giving him -the powder, who is to know?” she whispered under her breath. - -For an instant she stood motionless, with the contents of the little -white paper containing the life-giving powder clutched tightly in her -hand. - -The little clock on the mantel ticked on and on. One, two, three, four, -five minutes passed, and she stood thus like a statue carved in marble. -Another five minutes, and with a shudder she hastily crossed the room -and emptied the contents of the little white paper into the depths of -the silver cuspidor. - -“Among the cigar ashes contained in this, it will never be traced,” she -whispered, fearfully. - -She was not an adept in crime. This was her first offense against -the laws of God and man. It was little wonder that she trembled so -violently as she crept up to the couch and watched breathlessly the -effect of the emission of the powder. - -“In an hour from now, when the doctor returns, his patient will be -beyond all mortal aid,” she muttered, hoarsely. - -Twice the sufferer stirred on his pillow and moaned faintly as he -murmured piteously: - -“Oh, for youth, and health, and strength, that you might love me, my -beauteous young bride. They say that December should not wed with -May--that it is against nature’s laws--but I have tried to convince -myself that the rule did not always hold good; that my case was an -exception; that Queenie loved me for my old and battered self, not for -my gold.” - -The bride who stands beside the couch recoils from him with a gesture -of loathing. - -Love that pitiable wreck of manhood, who is seventy if he is a day. How -dare he expect it? What madness to imagine it. - -“Kiss me, Queenie,” he moaned. “Lay your soft cheek against mine, that -the swift current of youth’s warm blood may chase the death dew that -is gathering on my brow. For your sake I will overcome the deadly -faintness that is stealing over me. I will live--live--live!” - -“To make my days one ceaseless round of annoyance--ay, torture,” -muttered the girl, bending over him, noting that though he is fighting -the fiercest battle man ever fought to overcome the grim destroyer, -death, which is hovering over him, his convulsive throes grow weaker -and weaker, and his face takes slowly on that yellowish hue that there -is no mistaking. - -The second quarter of an hour has been gathered into the past, and -the contents of the second paper have been consigned to the silver -cuspidor, the third quarter is well-nigh spent, but the beautiful woman -who watches seems to pay no heed to time. - -One convulsive gasp, another, and the man whom she calls husband falls -back motionless on his pillow. - -“He is dead!” she whispers, half aloud. - -“Yes, he is dead,” answers a deep voice close by her elbow, “and you, -my dear madam, are his---- Well, the word I would use is an ugly one, -and I will substitute in its place--you are responsible for it.” - -“It is false!” Queenie tries to gasp as she reels backward in horror, -too awful for words, and glares with dilated eyes at the intruder who -has suddenly loomed up before her. But the words die away in her throat -in a spasmodic, deathlike gurgle. - -Before her she sees standing the man with the bright, piercing eyes, -whom she had believed to be the doctor’s assistant, and whom she -fancied had left the house with him. - -His coat collar was still turned up, and his hat pulled down over his -face, revealing only those black, malicious eyes. - -“You have not been alone, as you fancied yourself to be, madam,” he -went on, in that voice which seemed strangely familiar to her. “I -remained behind, to see that you carried out the doctor’s instructions, -upon which the life of the man now lying dead before you hung. I seated -myself in that armchair in the bay window, which the lace draperies -conceal, but from my position I could see all that took place. In fact, -being scarcely ten feet from you, I could not help overhearing every -word that fell from your lips.” - -“No, no, no!” shrieked Queenie, falling on her knees at his feet. - -“Hush!” he commanded, quickly, placing his hand over her mouth, “don’t -you know that you will arouse every servant in the house, and that -they will be flocking to the scene? I have much to say to you ere the -alarm that your husband is dead is given out. There, don’t be alarmed; -I want to be your friend if you will allow me to be so. It is not my -intention, at least not my present intention, to betray your crime to -the world. You did a very rash thing, to be sure, but, then, I intend -to be your friend for the reason that it is for my interest to be so.” - -“Who are you?” gasped Queenie, leaning heavily back against the -casement. “I seem to know you--and yet I do not. My God!” she exclaimed -in the same breath, “am I mad or dreaming, or do my eyes deceive me? -You are Raymond Challoner!” - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. IN HIS POWER. - - - “O’er her brow a change has passed; - In the darkness of her eyes, - Deep and still a mystery lies; - In her voice there thrills a tone - Never in her girlhood known.” - -For one full moment the two who had parted from each other in such -bitter wrath on that never-to-be-forgotten morning at Newport stood -once again, face to face, looking into each other’s eyes. - -It was Queenie who broke the dead silence that reigned in that awful -chamber of death. - -“Raymond Challoner!” she repeated, falteringly, and he could see that -she was almost on the verge of utter collapse. - -“Yes, Raymond Challoner, at your service,” he responded, cynically. - -“What are you doing here?” she cried, hoarsely, still wondering if she -were not laboring under some horrible nightmare. - -“What to you seems now so astounding can be most easily explained,” he -answered. “I am the nephew of the man you have wedded; the one who -should have been his heir, and whom he discarded.” - -That this information was astounding to Queenie he could readily see, -and because of that he readily conjectured that her husband had not -mentioned him to his bride, for which he was now truly thankful. - -It took but an instant for Queenie to recover herself. The color rushed -back to her deathly white face, and the cold, harsh expression her -features had worn of late came suddenly back to them as the thought -crossed her mind that at last she was revenged upon Raymond Challoner, -for had she not every dollar of the wealth that would have been his at -that moment but for her? But in the next instant she realized that her -hour of triumph over him had not yet come, for she was in his power; -one word from his lips would send her---- - -She did not follow out the rest of the sentence; she dared not. -“Come,” he said, touching her on the arm, and placing her with a firm, -masterful hand into an armchair close by, “you must not give way to -your emotions. You will need all your self-control.” - -In a few words he explained his presence in that room; that he had -come to call on his uncle; the bitter quarrel that ensued, ending in -apoplexy which had caused the accident; his call for a doctor, and -volunteering to remain by his uncle’s side until the return of his -wife, and of his intense amazement to learn who that wife was--his -own sweetheart of other days--and how he had retired behind the heavy -draperies of the windows for the purpose of making known his presence -to her when he should find her alone, fearing that some sort of a scene -might ensue. - -“Why did you not make your presence known at once, as soon as the -servants had left the room?” she gasped. - -“I was conning over in my mind whether it was really best to acquaint -you with my presence beneath your roof, or to wait until morning and -go quietly away without revealing myself to you. In the face of what -has occurred, I knew that the best thing to do was to apprise you of my -presence.” - -“What do you intend to do?” she queried, hoarsely, her hands trembling -like aspen leaves as they clutched the arm of the chair for support. - -“I intend to be your friend if you will allow me to be so,” he replied, -suavely. - -“Impossible!” cried Queenie. “It is against nature for you to wish to -be my friend when I come between you and a fortune.” - -“It is neither the time nor the place to tell you all that is in my -thoughts,” he responded, “but I may as well drop you a slight hint as -to their trend. What would be easier than for you in the near future to -reimburse me with the fortune which you are the means of taking from -me?” - -“You mean for me to one day marry you?” she gasped. - -“I see you have divined my thoughts most accurately, my fair Queenie,” -he answered. - -She shrank from him in loathing too great for words, crying: - -“Not for this whole world would I marry you, Raymond Challoner. I would -sooner die.” - -“Do not decide too hastily, my fair enemy,” he returned, mockingly. -“Remember, ‘discretion is the better part of valor,’ as the old saw -goes. I shall leave you now, for it would never do for us to be found -here together. I will see you early on the morrow.” - -Before she was aware of what he was about to do, he had raised her -jeweled hand to his lips, kissed and dropped it, and the door was -closing softly after him. - -When the doctor arrived, and the servants ushered him into the sick -room, they found the beautiful young bride lying prone upon her face -in a dead faint by the side of the still, stark form lying in his last -sleep upon the couch. - -“Dead!” exclaimed the doctor briefly, at the first glance at the old -millionaire’s rigid features. Then he turned his attention at once to -the grief-stricken woman, who had apparently swooned ere she could -summon help in her dying husband’s last moments. Neither the doctor nor -the servants would have pitied her so deeply could they have seen her -when she returned to consciousness in her own boudoir an hour or so -later. - -She dismissed the maid who was watching over her; then sprang from the -couch and paced the floor up and down like a veritable demon in woman’s -form. - -“Was it for that that I dared and accomplished so terrible a crime?” -she whispered, clutching her hands tightly over her heart. “No, a -thousand times no, for I hate Raymond Challoner with all the strength -of my heart and soul. I only wanted to be free from the shackles of -iron which bound me, that I might recall the only man I have ever -loved--John Dinsmore. And now, when success dawns for me, another -cloud, more formidable than the one which has just been dissipated, -gathers over me. - -“I shall never marry Raymond Challoner, that he may share the wealth -which will be mine, while we both know in our secret hearts that we -detest each other. Let come what will, I will defy him to do his worst, -and in the meantime I will recall him whom I sent from me.” And through -her brain rang the fateful words: - - “And when your love has conquered pride and anger, - I know that you will call me back again.” - -Her riotous reverie was suddenly cut short by the entrance of her -mother. - -“Oh, my darling, my precious Queenie! We have just heard through one of -the servants, who came hurrying to us with the awful intelligence, of -his death, and I could scarcely credit the news until I came and saw -for myself.” - -The mother and daughter looked steadily at each other, each reading the -other’s thoughts. - -“You are now a wealthy widow, my dear child,” murmured Mrs. Trevalyn, -dropping her voice to a low whisper, and adding in the same breath, -“you want your mourning made up in the most becoming manner, for there -are no women so attractive as young and beautiful widows. The first -six months you will want all black crape; at the end of the second six -months you can introduce a little white or lavender here and there, -and----” - -“For Heaven’s sake, hush, mamma,” cried Queenie. “I cannot endure it. I -am thinking of something else, I assure you.” - -“Dear me!” cried Mrs. Trevalyn, in a very injured tone of voice. “One -would think that you had just lost a very dear and loving husband, of -whom you were foolishly fond, instead of an old man whom, you and -I both know, you wedded for his money, and whom we cordially hated -personally. Isn’t his death what you have been longing for ever since -you turned away from the altar with him, I should like to know?” - -“Of course,” whispered Queenie; “but--well, to tell you the truth, I -was thinking of John Dinsmore, and wondering how he would take the -news when he heard that I am free again. He did not fancy widows. You -remember how many there were at Newport, and all setting their caps for -him.” - -“An old love who has become a widow is quite another matter,” declared -Mrs. Trevalyn, energetically. “As soon as he hears of your bereavement, -he will make that an excellent excuse to call upon you or write you, -offering his condolence; that will pave the way for other sympathetic -calls, and in a year from now, if you play your cards well, you can -land the man you have always wanted, John Dinsmore.” - -“And whose wife I would have been to-day, had you not kept dinning -continually into my ears that I must marry for wealth, and that love -was not to be considered.” - -“My dear child, I thought you were sensible on such matters; do not -grow sentimental at this late date. When you jilted handsome Mr. -Dinsmore, he was not worth a penny, so consequently he was not to be -considered in a matrimonial light; but now that his fortunes have -changed and he is wealthy, why that puts a different face upon his -prospects of winning a very lovely and brilliant girl like yourself.” - -For answer Queenie burst into a paroxysm of tears, crying, wildly: - -“But it can never be now, mamma--never, never! the Fates forbid!--and -my future will be horrible to contemplate.” - -“Do not talk wildly and unreasonably, my child. Why should fate forbid -your marrying John Dinsmore, should he come wooing a second time, which -he is sure to do, he was so much in love with you?” - -For a moment Queenie was tempted to tell her mother all of her awful -story, but on second thoughts she concluded that it would be safer to -keep the horrible truth locked carefully in her own breast. An idea had -come to her--perhaps she could buy Ray Challoner off by dividing the -millions with him which she was sure to inherit as his uncle’s widow. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. - - - “Strong in my heart old memories wake - To-night. - Live on my lips dead kisses burn; - Hot to my eyes wept tears return; - Forgotten throbs my pulses shake, - To-night. - - “Love is avenged--my buried love-- - To-night. - The weakling present slips away; - The giant past alone has sway, - Potential as the gods above, - To-night.” - -“I do not understand you in the least, my dear,” exclaimed Mrs. -Trevalyn, as Queenie still continued to wring her hands, weeping -bitterly the while. “Your eyes will be in the back of your head if you -keep on wailing and weeping in this way,” she added in annoyance, “and -a pretty sight you will present then. Always remember to keep your face -looking beautiful, no matter what else goes amiss.” - -Thus admonished, Queenie dried her eyes, but she could not keep back -the heavy sighs that arose to her lips at the very thought of Raymond -Challoner and his hint that she must marry him. - -“I had forgotten to tell you an interesting piece of news mother,” said -Queenie, “and that is that I hear Raymond Challoner is the discarded -nephew of--of my--my late husband.” - -This was indeed news to Mrs. Trevalyn, and she said so, adding in the -next breath: - -“He broke his betrothal to you, Queenie, because your father had lost -his fortune. I should not be a particle surprised if he were to attempt -to renew his suit when he finds that you have money, my dear, but you -can afford to whistle him down the wind. Why, my dear child, what is -the matter? You look so woefully pale, quite as though you were going -to swoon. Your nerves are overwrought, and no wonder. I must go now, -for I never can bear to be about when there are such grewsome things -going on as making arrangements for a funeral. I had almost forgotten -to tell you a little piece of news which I was going to run over anyway -to-day to tell you about.” - -Queenie never raised her face from her hands, and her mother went on: - -“The young girl whom old Lawyer Abbot wrote us about, asking that -we receive her to visit you for a few weeks, arrived late yesterday -afternoon. Her surprise was great to learn that you had married and -left us, and were living in another part of the city. - -“‘Then I shall have to go straight back to Blackheath Hall!’” she said, -disappointedly. - -“‘By no means, my dear!’ I answered. ‘Remain in the home our dear -Queenie’s absence makes so desolate as long as you like. I am sure we -will be only too glad to have you here. I shall take you to see Queenie -as soon as you are thoroughly rested from your long trip!’ Of course -she stayed. - -“You will be surprised when you see her, Queenie,” Mrs. Trevalyn went -on. “She is the most beautiful creature my eyes ever rested on, and -quite the strangest girl imaginable. It was well old Brown did not see -her, beauty worshiper that the old fellow was, or he would have made -her the wealthy widow instead of you, I fear.” - -“Is she so much fairer than I?” exclaimed Queenie, in intense pique, -bridling up in an instant. - -Her mother laughed softly, saying: “I fancied that remark would arouse -you from the lethargy into which you are falling; that was my purpose -in saying it. Pretty? Yes, the girl is more than pretty, but you are -beautiful, my peerless Queenie; you must not forget that.” - -The very next day occurred the reading of the will, and then--the -thunderbolt from an apparently cloudless sky burst. - -It was found that the so-called reputed millionaire was a bankrupt. -There was scarcely enough money left after his just debts were paid to -insure him a decent burial. - -“I cannot, I will not believe that I have been cheated thus!” cried -Queenie, springing to her feet and tearing the trappings of heavy crape -from her and trampling them under foot. - -Even the lawyer, who was reading the last word of the will, paused -in wonderment at this heartless exhibition of rage, and in the very -presence, too, of the dead. He almost feared that the enraged beauty, -who had wedded the old man for his wealth, would hurl the casket to the -floor. - -It was Raymond Challoner who led her from the room. - -“My disappointment is as great as yours,” he said, grimly, “but I seem -able to control myself better. We are both paupers, it seems,” he went -on, in the same whisper, “and we should sympathize with each other.” - -“Of course,” he added, “marriage is for a second time not to be thought -of in connection with you or me, but even though I will not be obliged -to shield you with my name, you can yet be of use to me, and I to you, -in keeping the secret of the true cause of my uncle’s death.” - -Queenie was crushed, humiliated to the very earth. She made no comment. -As though in a glass darkly, she was trying to outline her future. As -a wealthy young widow, her place in society would have been one to be -envied. - -With her father a bankrupt, and the man she had married a bankrupt as -well, she saw nothing before her save seeking employment for her daily -bread. - -Could she ever hope to win John Dinsmore then? She would belong to one -world and he to another, and those words lay as far apart as heaven and -earth. - -Her companion, who was still clasping her arm tightly as he led her -along, broke into her reverie by saying: - -“Let us step into the music-room for a few words more, Queenie. I have -something of importance to say to you still. Consent to aid me and I -will make it worth your while; you shall have a fortune at least half -as great as the one which you have just lost, if I can win what I am -aiming for. Will you spare me a few moments of your time, and give me -your undivided attention?” - -She laughed a low, harsh laugh. “My time is not so valuable now -as--well, if you have any plan to offer by which I may have the hope -of retrieving my fallen fortunes, why should I not listen to your -plans--and eagerly?” - -“Now you are speaking very sensibly,” he rejoined, leading her into the -music-room and closing the door carefully after them, to insure their -not being overheard by any of the servants. - -Queenie was so thoroughly in his power that he knew he need have no -hesitancy in telling her his plans from beginning to end, without fear -of her daring to expose him; on the contrary, he would force her to aid -him in his determination to win the Dinsmore millions. - -He began at the beginning, telling her of much that she did not know, -of that duel on the sands at Newport, on her account, in which he had, -as he believed, mortally wounded his adversary, John Dinsmore. - -He saw her start, and turn deadly pale, but he went on, hurriedly: - -“He lingered for some weeks, but in the end succumbed to his injuries.” - -“Murderer!” gasped Queenie. “Oh, God! he is dead, then! dead!” - -Raymond Challoner looked at her coolly, as he replied: - -“We do not call affairs of honor by such a hard name as that which just -now passed your lips, my dear madam. We took our chances, one against -the other; that was fair play. He was as liable to shoot me as I was to -shoot him. It was not like willfully planning in secret and carrying -out a deliberate murder.” - -Queenie fell back in her seat, powerless to reply. She knew but too -well the meaning he would convey by those words. - -She made no further attempt to interrupt him, and he related the -tale, which sounded to her ears like some weird romance, of how he -was _en route_ to the races at New Orleans, and the accident which -necessitated his remaining over at the crossroads for the next train, -which would not come along for some hours; of the interesting story -the old landlord had told him of the death of some man in England who -was worth many millions, and the extraordinary will he had left behind -him, namely, that half of his estate should go to his nephew, John -Dinsmore, and the other half to a young girl who had been brought up as -a foundling upon the estate, provided these two should marry. - -“The young girl,” he went on, “resided upon an estate known as -Blackheath Hall, in the vicinity where I was at that time. The man was -your one-time lover, Dinsmore, whom you considerately threw over for -me.” - -Again Queenie’s lips moved, but no sound came from them. He could see -that she was vitally interested in his narrative--indeed, she scarcely -moved or breathed even, during the recital; her eyes were riveted upon -his face, as though spellbound. - -“You will wonder how all this is of interest to you, Queenie. I am fast -nearing that point. I must tell you all, that you may better understand -the exact situation. - -“Well, to cut the story as short as possible, knowing that Dinsmore had -passed in his checks, I conceived the daring scheme of passing myself -off for him, marrying the girl, and inheriting the Dinsmore fortune, -which I would lose no time in putting into cash. I knew that I would -have little trouble in proving the identity, as I could get hold of the -private papers he left behind him through the doctor who attended him, -who was a sworn friend of mine. Dinsmore had once visited that part -of the country when he was a child, but I counted on the people not -remembering his childish features. - -“Well, the daring scheme worked like a charm even beyond my wildest -hopes. I succeeded in establishing my identity as John Dinsmore, and -in becoming betrothed to the co-heiress. That girl is now in New York, -visiting at your old home. Her name is Jess. I rely upon you to aid me -in marrying her, for to tell you the truth, she detests me, and wants -to back out. Accomplish this, and you shall be a rich woman for life, -Queenie.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. TO WRECK A YOUNG GIRL’S LIFE. - - - “Dreams, we have spent full many a lingering hour - Of heaven-sweet rest - Together. Wrapped in your most secret bower, - With vision blest, - I’ve seen the budding of Love’s fairy flower - Within my breast; - How long is it, dear love, since we were face to face, - Full many years; - Look deep into my heart--there you will trace - Your myriad tears.” - -For some moments after he had ceased speaking, Queenie still sat there, -regarding him with that same intensity of gaze that made him feel a -trifle uneasy. - -“Why do you not answer me?” he queried, impatiently. “Are you with me -in my valiant scheme for a fortune--I was going to add, or are you -against me? but I know you would not dare thwart me in my desires. You -are in my power, and my will henceforth shall be your law.” - -The cold eyes meeting his gaze so steadily did not flinch, nor did the -marble face grow one whit whiter at this open declaration, reminding -her of the precipice on which she stood and would stand for all time to -come, unless fate should sweep this man from her path. Indeed, her face -could grow no whiter. - -She had lived through two terrible shocks; first, that the man whom she -loved better than her own life was dead, and, secondly, that had he -lived he would, in all probability, have wedded another. - -“It was a most unaccountable turn of fate’s wheel that this girl should -have come North to visit you, of all people, Queenie,” he resumed, -thoughtfully, “and I expected no end of difficulties in the matter. It -would have been natural for her to confide to you that she was soon to -wed, and I could imagine your amazement when she told you that the man -she was to marry was John Dinsmore. - -“Of course, in the interchange of girlish confidences, you would have -told her that he was, once upon a time, and not so very many moons ago, -your admirer. - -“If descriptions of him were entered into, then I would be detected, -I well knew. I would not have dared present myself at your home under -that name, of course, and I could see no way out of the labyrinth, -or rather, dilemma, but to watch and wait for her visit to you to -terminate, and return to her home. - -“I could illy brook the length of time this would consume, for I am in -sore straits and need the money, which I can gain possession of, thanks -to the trustfulness in human nature of that old imbecile, Lawyer Abbot, -just as soon as the marriage between myself and the lovely Jess is -consummated. - -“I repeat, the girl distrusts, and even dislikes me, and has, -furthermore, written me that the marriage can never take place now, -and a lot more of that kind of nonsense, which I, of course, pay no -attention whatever to. - -“You must urge my cause for me, Queenie, and induce this girl to marry -me as quickly as possible, presenting me, of course, in the character -which I assume of John Dinsmore. - -“I would not dare call upon her at your father’s home, for no doubt -he has met the real John Dinsmore, and the whole trick would be -exploded there and then. I would lose a fortune, and you would lose one -likewise, by not being able to aid me in carrying out my daring scheme. - -“You must send for the girl to take a little trip with you to some -nearby resort, and while there I will come and press my suit.” - -“What a clever schemer you are!” burst out Queenie, recoiling from him -as though he had been a cobra. - -“I am, unfortunately, obliged to live by my wits since my dear uncle -cut me off so summarily. I had been used to gratifying my luxurious -tastes, and that took money. I fell naturally into scheming for it. But -that is neither here nor there. The question is: Will you aid me to -secure the Dinsmore millions for the consideration which I have offered -you--a stipulated sum, paid down in cash in the hour the marriage -between myself and this Jess takes place?” - -He was prepared for her answer, “Yes,” knowing that she dared not -refuse whatever he might ask. - -“I will leave you now,” he resumed, “and will call again to-morrow.” - -Queenie was glad when he bowed himself out of her presence. She -shuddered, as with a sudden chill, for the memory of his cynical, -mocking smile, as he turned away, she knew would follow her as long as -she lived. - -Challoner had barely opened the street door ere a coach stopped just in -front of the house, and three young men sprang from it, dashing up the -marble steps to where he stood, three steps at a time. - -“I beg your pardon, sir,” said the foremost of the newcomers, “for -waylaying you in this brusque fashion. Permit me to explain that we -are reporters for an evening paper. We have been sent to you, if you -are one of the family of the dead man, whose will has just created -such a furore, on the announcement that the supposed millionaire was -discovered to be a bankrupt, for a correct statement, if you will -kindly accord it to us.” - -Ray Challoner’s brows gathered into a frown. - -“I am the nephew of the man who has just died,” he assented, “but I -want to keep it out of the papers; it’s not a thing to comment on, -don’t you know.” - -“It’s sure to get into the papers,” said the spokesman of the party. -“We will have to write up something. It is much the best way to give us -a correct account of it.” - -He turned to his companions for affirmation of this sentiment, and they -both nodded assent, pulling their writing pads and pencils from their -pockets as they did so. - -Challoner gave them an account to suit himself. It was just as well for -the dear public at large not to know the exact truth as to know how -matters actually stood. - -“That is all there is to tell,” he said, when he had finished, moving -away from them down the steps. - -Hailing a passing hansom cab, Challoner hastily entered it, leaving the -trio on the steps, still comparing notes. - -One of them, however, was staring after him with a strange expression -upon his face, which had suddenly grown very white. - -“Boys,” he said, huskily, “ever since we have been talking to that -fellow, I have been cudgeling my brain as to where I had seen him -before, but my memory seemed determined to baffle me. I have it now; he -is the despicable cur that engaged in that duel in Newport with John -Dinsmore, fatally wounding the finest gentleman that ever lived. - -“You see, I only saw this Challoner--that’s his name--by dim moonlight, -and on that one occasion only, so it was little wonder that I was -a trifle mixed as to his identity. I was Dinsmore’s second, if you -remember.” - -“Yes, we remember,” assented his companions, and one of them asked: - -“Can you tell us whatever became of John Dinsmore?” - -Jerry Gaines--for it was he--heaved a deep sigh that came from the very -depths of his heart. - -“He was wounded in that accursed duel, as I have said,” he went on, -slowly. “For some weeks his life was despaired of, and when he began -to convalesce, he decided to take a trip South, partly to regain his -health and strength, and partly to attend to another little matter -which meant much to him in a pecuniary way. Well, he never lived to -reach the end of his journey. There was a terrible railway accident; -the train went over a high bridge, rolling down an embankment of -something like a hundred feet or more, and all of the coaches caught -fire. It happened at night, and when morning dawned, it was found that -but a mass of charred timber, bones and ashes remained to tell the -pitiful story. Dinsmore was not among the few rescued. That was his -fate, boys, and Ballou and I have mourned for him like brothers from -that day to this. We are the Trinity, the inseparable three, you know.” - -Brushing a tear from his eye, Jerry Gaines went on: - -“Poor John Dinsmore never knew of the brilliant honors that awaited him -in the success of the book which has just been published, nor the money -which would have been his from its sale. Nor how the papers printed his -picture and the praise that was accorded him. - -“Boys,” he added, with a sudden energy and a darkening of his fine -brows, “I am going to reopen that quarrel which laid Dinsmore low, and -cause that despicable cur of a Challoner to answer to me for it.” - -“Let bygones be bygones, Jerry,” advised his brother reporters. “You -cannot bring back your friend John Dinsmore, and there is little use in -letting him spill your blood, too.” - -“No matter what you say, my friends, there will be a reckoning between -me and Challoner at no distant day. I will hound his footsteps night -and day, until I find an opportunity which suits my purpose, and -then--well, John Dinsmore’s difference with that man will be avenged. -It will be either Raymond Challoner’s life or mine.” - -“I, too, imagine that I have seen his face somewhere before,” said one -of the other reporters, slowly, “but, like you, Gaines, my memory -baffles me, for the time being, to place him, but it will assuredly -come to me sooner or later.” - -Raymond Challoner had not been talking to the trio five minutes before -it suddenly dawned upon him who two of them were--the one, John -Dinsmore’s second in that midnight duel on the sands of Newport; and -the other one--well, that reporter had been on hand when he had been -arrested for a crime which would have landed him on the gallows if he -had not made his escape in a manner challenging the daring of Claude -Duval himself. - -He had made haste to leave them the instant their identity had dawned -upon him, and he felt reasonably sure that they had failed to recognize -him--a fact for which he thanked his stars. - -“Now for pretty Jess and a speedy marriage with her,” he ruminated, as -the carriage rolled down the avenue. “I see I must hurry matters and -shake the dust of New York off my feet speedily.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. UNDER THE MASK OF FRIENDSHIP. - - - “I know not now, nor never knew, - Why lives so linked were rent apart! - But this I know, that only you, - Can claim a place within my heart; - It may be that you do forget, - And think it is the same with me, - That olden love is dead, and yet - We once both said it could ne’er be!” - -When Queenie found herself alone, after the departure of Raymond -Challoner, she gave full vent to the bitter grief she had kept pent up -in her breast, upon learning from him of the death of the only man whom -she had ever loved, though the knowledge of that love had come to her -too late. - -She could hardly bring herself to believe he was really dead, lying -a mass of charred remains, he who had been such a strong, active, -handsome man but a few short weeks ago. How could fate have severed the -golden cord of his noble existence at the very height of his success -and glorious fame! - -She brushed at length the burning tear drops from her eyes, muttering: - -“If he is indeed dead, then my past and my future are dead--there is no -hope of happiness for me hereafter.” - -But even in the midst of her grief she realized that the worst possible -thing that she could do would be to give way to it so utterly. - -All at once every hope upon which she had built her expectation of a -roseate future lay in ruins at her feet. She was not even the wealthy -widow that she had expected to be. - -Then she fell to thinking of all that Raymond Challoner had promised if -she would aid him in his schemes of urging this girl Jess to a speedy -marriage, in order that he might gain the Dinsmore millions. - -Queenie’s curiosity over the girl made her forget her sorrow for the -time being, in realizing the fact, that even had John Dinsmore lived, -this was the girl whom he would have been in duty bound to wed. This -was the girl who would have lived in the sunshine of his presence. - -“He would never have loved her, for his love was mine--all mine!” she -cried, clutching both of her hands convulsively over her heart. “Such a -man loves once in a lifetime--no more!” - -She lost no time in sending for Jess to come to her, and she was -agreeably surprised to see the girl return with the messenger. - -Queenie had expected to see a shy little Southern rosebud; instead, she -beheld a glorious young creature of such rare beauty that for a moment -she held her breath in astonishment as she gazed upon her; and even in -that moment the thought ran through Queenie’s mind: - -“Despite John Dinsmore’s assurances that he would never love any one -else but me, he would have been hardly human not to have fallen in love -with this peerless little Jess at first sight had he but seen her.” - -Queenie’s reverie was cut short by the girl advancing with outstretched -hands toward her, saying: - -“I am Jess--and you are Queenie Trevalyn! I--I beg your pardon, Mrs. -Brown. Dear me, how funny the thought of your being even married, let -alone being a--widow--seems,” she rattled on, breathlessly. “I love you -already, you are so sweet. Won’t you let me kiss you, and won’t you -say: ‘Welcome, Jess?’” - -“I was just about to say that, and offer not one, but as many kisses as -you like,” said Queenie, opening out her arms to the graceful little -figure that bounded into them. - -That was the beginning of the friendship which was to end so -disastrously for poor Jess. - -Queenie was a thorough woman of the world, versed in its arts, its -deceits, while Jess was but a child of nature, with a heart as open as -the day, and free from guile or knowledge of falsity; therefore it was -little wonder that she quite believed her welcome genuine. - -In a week’s time, “the two girls,” as Queenie’s mother persisted in -calling them, were as inseparable as though they had known each other -from childhood up. - -“I am so glad that you came to me just when you did, dear Jess,” -murmured Queenie, “for I was feeling my grief so keenly that I thought -my poor heart would surely break.” - -Jess crossed the room and stood in front of the picture of the late -departed Mr. Brown, studying the wrinkled face it represented; the -bald head, smooth as a billiard ball; the shrunken mouth and chin, -and almost sightless eyes, and her thoughts broke into words, and -quite before she considered what she was about to utter, she said, -impulsively: - -“How could you ever have loved so old and withered a human being, -Queenie, let alone marrying him; and you so young and fair? I -thought when I first saw the picture hanging here that he was your -great-grandfather.” - -A flush stained Queenie’s face from neck to brow for a moment, and her -heart gave a great strangling throb. It was fully a moment ere she -replied, then she said slowly: - -“I will not tell you an untruth, Jess; it was not because I loved my -husband that I married him. He saved my father from financial ruin, and -I married him because he demanded my hand as the price of it. There was -no question of love between us.” - -“I should never marry a man I could not love, no matter what the -consequences of my refusing were,” declared Jess. - -“You have never been placed in such a position; you can hardly tell -what you would do or would not do, dear,” murmured Queenie, thinking -that that remark was a fine opening for Jess to make a confidant of -her in regard to the lover who was to have been forced upon her by the -Dinsmore will. - -In this surmise she was quite correct. Jess wheeled about from the -picture, and flinging herself on a hassock at Queenie’s feet, she -buried her young face in her false friend’s lap, exclaiming: - -“Ah! but I have had a most thrilling experience, I assure you, Queenie. -May I tell you all about it?” - -“If you like, dear,” was the answer, and she lowered her white lids -over her eyes that Jess might not see the hard, steely glitter in them -should she chance to look up suddenly. - -“I did throw over a lover and a fortune into the bargain, because I -could not like, let alone love the man whom I would have had to wed to -gain the money, though the loss of it made me--a pauper!” - -“What a romance!” cried Queenie. “Do tell me all about it, dear--who -would have ever dreamed that you, who look so much like a child, had -ever contemplated marriage, let alone decided so important a step.” - -“It is romantic,” said Jess, slowly. “I doubt if any other young girl -in the whole wide world ever had such a strange experience as mine -has been.” And, glad enough to find so attentive and sympathetic a -listener, Jess, with the confiding innocence of youth, proceeded to -narrate to her new-found friend the story of her life; how, from the -first recollection she had had, she had been a part and parcel of -Blackheath Hall, yet had lived a life wholly apart from its inmates. - -If Queenie had not conceived, down deep in her heart, a deadly hatred -of this girl whom fate had decreed for John Dinsmore, the man she -loved, she would have been moved to pity by Jess’ recital. - -“I have no recollection of a home, or a mother,” continued Jess, -resting her dimpled chin on her pink palms, her elbows on Queenie’s -knee, and her large, dark, soulful eyes gazing up into the wine-dusk -eyes looking down into her own. “The knowledge of that was my earliest -grief. I seemed to be like Topsy--‘just growed there, nobody knowed -how,’ as that waif and stray expressed it. - -“I was there on sufferance, as it were. I belonged to nobody, and -nobody belonged to, or took the least interest, in me. I roamed where I -would, as neglected a specimen of humanity as one would wish to see. I -had no friends save the birds in the deep woods, and the wild animals I -had trained and made comrades of. - -“My one passion was reading. I scarcely know how I ever managed to -learn how to decipher the stories that I was so fond of. One of the old -colored mammies about the plantation had learned to read and write, and -taught me as much as she knew--my education ended there. Once a year -the cast-off clothing of the housekeeper was made over for me--that was -all the interest ever exhibited in me. Nobody ever took the trouble to -ask if I were sick or well, satisfied with my strange lot, or lonely, -if I had a heart within my bosom that longed for companionship and -sympathy, or how I even existed. - -“No one knew how I would throw myself down in the long grass in the -depths of the silent wood, for the birds never told my secret, and cry -out to the pitying skies to send me from heaven just one wish, grant -me one prayer, and that was for some human being to love, some one who -would love me in return; for some one to hold my hands, and ask me in a -kind and gentle voice if I were weary, and if I were, to pillow my head -on a kindly breast and soothe me while I wept out my woe there. The -young girls I read of had happy homes, tender mothers, kind fathers, -sisters dear, brothers, and--lovers; why, then, was this height of -human happiness beyond my reach? I longed for companionship, and girl -friends.” - -“Had you no thought of--a lover?” queried Queenie, ever so softly. - -“Yes,” whispered Jess, almost shyly. “I had my ideal of the kind of a -man who would captivate my heart; a girl who reads much has her ideal, -you know. I often said to myself: ‘If there is a Prince Charming in -this world for me, he must be tall, and grave, and handsome, with blue -eyes, and chestnut hair waving above a broad, white brow, and----’ Why, -what in the world is the matter, Queenie? You look as though you were -dying.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. HIS STORY. - - -The girl sprang to her feet, looking at Queenie in great affright. - -“You were about to faint. You are ill?” cried Jess, in alarm. - -“It was only a momentary faintness, dear,” murmured Queenie. - -But the truth of the matter was that Jess had described John Dinsmore -so accurately, just as she had seen him when she had parted from him on -the golden sands at Newport, that never-to-be-forgotten evening when -she had flung from her the heart and the love in it that she would have -afterward given worlds, had she possessed them, to recall. - -She wondered if Jess could by any possible means have ever met the real -John Dinsmore; but in the next breath she told herself that it could -not have been; the girl was just conjuring up this mental photograph -of the hero who could win her heart purely from her imagination, never -dreaming that there had been a man in existence who had fitted that -description exactly. - -Thus, assured that Queenie’s indisposition was but momentary, and that -she really cared for her to go on with her narrative, Jess continued: - -“My life might have gone on for long years more in just that dreary -fashion, had not a singular event happened. A lawyer--your parent’s -friend, Lawyer Abbot, suddenly appeared at the plantation one day, -and asked for the housekeeper of Blackheath Hall. I overheard the -conversation between them, and his mission there, which was to tell her -that the master of Blackheath Hall had just died abroad, and to inform -her as to the conditions of his will, which was, that the girl Jess -(meaning me) who was then on the plantation, and who had made it her -home there, for many years, was to receive half of his entire fortune, -providing she married, within the ensuing twelve months, his heir, and -nephew, John Dinsmore. - -“To cut a long story short, Queenie, this John Dinsmore soon came down -to Blackheath Hall for the purpose of ‘looking me over,’ as he wrote -the housekeeper that he would do. From the first moment we met, I took -a most terrible dislike to him, although he was the greatest dandy -imaginable. - -“There was something about him which seemed to warn me not to trust -him, and to fly from him--I cannot explain what it was. As was -expected of him, he asked me to marry him; and by dint of persuasion -from the housekeeper, I, at length, reluctantly consented, although -every throb of my heart seemed to speak and tell me that if I married -him I would rue it--rue it--rue it! I felt so terribly about it that -it seemed to me I must get away amidst new scenes to get up courage to -take the fatal plunge into the turbulent sea of matrimony. - -“For a wonder, Mrs. Bryson, the old housekeeper of Blackheath Hall, did -not oppose my strange notion, as she termed it; instead, she consulted -with Lawyer Abbot, and the result was that they concluded to send me to -visit you in New York.” - -At this point in her narrative Jess stopped confusedly, turning from -red to white, her heart throbbing so tumultuously that Queenie could -not help hearing it. - -“Go on, my dear,” she said, sweetly. “You cannot tell how interested I -am; it is better than reading a love story from a novel.” - -“You would think so if you knew what happened next,” thought Jess, but -she dared not put that thought into speech. She said, instead: - -“As you may have heard, my visit to you was intercepted on the very -morning I was to take the train in company with Lawyer Abbot, for New -York, by a telegram informing us that you were away, and would not -return for a few weeks. - -“My disappointment was so keen that, to assuage my great grief and dry -my tears, Lawyer Abbot proposed that I should go somewhere, now that I -was all ready to go, and proposed sending me to a relative of his, on a -farm. - -“I hailed this eagerly--anything to get away from Blackheath Hall. -Well, I was kindly received by the good farmer, and his wife and -daughter, and there I spent the happiest days that I had ever known. -I was loath to tear myself away from the place even when I received a -letter from Lawyer Abbot, stating that you were now at home, in New -York, and that he was coming to conduct me there at once. Ah, Queenie, -when I left that farm, I left all the happiness that I had ever known -behind me. I wrote to the man to whom I had betrothed myself that I -wished to break the engagement; that it was impossible to ever marry -him now, for I found that we were as wide apart as though we had never -met, and that I had never had any love for him, and that he was to -consider the matter irrevocably settled. - -“That is all my story, Queenie,” she concluded, and the girl that bent -over her never dreamed that the most thrilling chapter in little Jess’ -life history had been omitted from the tale. No one in the wide world -would have guessed that little Jess had left--a husband on that lonely -farm whom she had learned to love with all the strength of her young -heart. - -She had obeyed his instructions to the letter, not to let any human -being know of her marriage until he gave her permission to do so. - -“So there little Jess’ romance seems to end,” murmured Queenie. The -girl nodded and hid her face, painful with rosy blushes, upon the -shoulder of her false friend. - -“Now I am going to tell you a little romance which will no doubt -surprise you very much, Jess,” declared Queenie, “and I will begin with -the statement that I know John--John Dinsmore, the lover whom you have -so foolishly discarded--very well.” - -“You know him?” gasped Jess, opening her great, dark, velvety eyes very -wide and wonderingly. - -Queenie nodded assent, adding: “I knew all about his courtship, for he -made a confidant of me, writing me all about it, as we were such very -old friends.” - -Before Jess could speak she went on hurriedly: “You are making the -greatest mistake of your life, dear, in attempting to break your -engagement with him, for he loves you so passionately that he can never -live without you--he said that in his letter to me--that if anything -happened to part you, that he would shoot himself, and put an end to -his sorrow and despair.” - -“I am greatly surprised that you know him, and like him so well,” -cried Jess, impatiently. - -“I like him so well I have asked him to visit us at my country seat -to which I am going next week, bearing you with me. He was more than -surprised to hear that you were coming to New York to visit me, of all -people, and accepted the invitation by return mail. - -“I suppose I am telling tales out of school when I also tell you that -the dear fellow was well-nigh heartbroken because you had bound those -whom you left behind you with a solemn promise not to divulge to him -your destination. Strange how he found it out, wasn’t it?” - -Jess had sprung to her feet trembling like a leaf. “I cannot see him, -indeed I cannot, Queenie,” she cried in an agitated voice, “and I -assure you, oh, so earnestly, that the marriage can never, never take -place!” - -“Fie, fie!” cried Queenie, “I will not listen to anything like that. -You have taken an aversion to him, but that is certain to wear off when -you know him better. You know, dear, that there is a whole world of -truth in the old saying that ‘the course of true love never does run -smooth.’ You are sure to have your little differences at first--love -tiffs, as some call them--but it will all come out all right in the -end. I am sure you are too sensible a girl, Jess, to want to back out -now, after your _fiancé_ has made every arrangement for his wedding -with you. It would be the height of impropriety, dear.” - -“Will you believe me that I can never, never marry him now, Queenie?” -whispered the girl, earnestly. “Do not let him come. I do not want to -see him. I will not see him.” - -“Do not be so willful, Jess,” exclaimed her friend, gathering her -arched brows into a decided frown. “I have asked him to come, and -I cannot recall the invitation without hurting my old friend and -playfellow to the very depths of his honest, loving heart. I could not -be so cruel when you have no just cause to offer as to why you do not -wish to meet him again, save a prejudice which should not exist. Surely -you cannot find so much fault with him for loving you so devotedly; -that is a trait to recommend, not one to blame. As you go through life, -Jess, you will learn one of its greatest lessons, and that is, never to -despise an honest, true love, for indeed there is little enough of it -to be met with.” - -“All that you say is true from your point of view, Queenie,” returned -the girl, in a distressed, husky voice, “but I repeat, I can never -marry him now--never!” - -“You would rather see a splendid fortune flung to the winds!” said -Queenie, impatiently, and with something very like a covert sneer in -her voice. “Remember, if you throw him over, you make not only a beggar -of yourself for life, but a beggar of him, and that you have no right -to do. - -“He has always looked upon himself as his uncle’s heir, and you, by -your action, would change that, willfully and pitilessly. You would -wreck him for life, not only in his heart’s affection, but in his -worldly prospects. And last, but by no means least, you would defy the -will and the wish of the man who gave you shelter at Blackheath Hall -all these years, instead of having you sent to some foundling’s home. -Surely your gratitude to him deserves compliance with his wise decree.” - -Queenie had used all her weapons of argument, and she stopped short, -looking at Jess to see the effect of her words upon her. Jess was as -pale as a snowdrop, and great tears trembled on her long, curling -lashes. - -“It can never be,” she reiterated in a trembling voice. “I beg of you -to say no more about it, Queenie. Only let me have my way in not seeing -him, if you would be kind to me.” - -“I refuse to wound the man who loves you so dearly by giving him such a -cruel message,” replied Queenie, coldly and harshly. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. THE WEB OF FATE. - - - “If fate should let us meet, what should we do? - Would each our hearts their olden love renew? - Or would the clouds that o’er us loom - Remain unmoved, with all their gloom, - If we should meet--if we should meet?” - -At this juncture of our story, it is most imperative that we should -return to John Dinsmore, whom we left standing, cold and taciturn, -on the porch, waving his child-bride good-by as she went from him in -company with Lawyer Abbot. - -He did not go into the house, as Lucy Caldwell ardently hoped he would -do, but instead started off at a swinging pace toward the orchard. - -He wanted to be alone, where he could have the luxury of undisturbed -thoughts, and where he could get away from the presence of Lucy -Caldwell and her love-lit glances and blushing face, all of which -were most annoying to him, as they disclosed the fact that the girl -was learning to care for him, a fact which troubled him, as he had -given her no encouragement to become infatuated with himself; on -the contrary, had taken every possible means on every occasion to -discourage it, and dissipate any hopes which she might be indulging in. - -His long strides soon brought him to the orchard. Walking to the -farthest end of it, he flung himself down under one of the gnarled old -trees, and gave himself up to grim reflections. Had he done a wise -action in marrying the girl from whom he had just parted in such cold, -angry pride? - -Over and over again he asked himself that question, and tried to answer -it satisfactorily to his troubled mind. - -He acknowledged most freely to himself that he did not love her, and -never could; that he had wedded her through a principle of honor which -urged him to give the girl his name that she might inherit the wealth -that his uncle had intended for her, and that he had lost every atom of -respect that he had entertained toward her at the acknowledgment from -her lips that she had been betrothed to another, and had thrown that -other lover over--to marry himself. - -“Had she confessed that before the marriage took place, I would have -cut my right hand off sooner than have married her,” he muttered, -grimly. - -The lesson he had received at the hands of the one girl he had loved, -in this regard, had taught him to despise a jilt as he would the -deadliest of cobras. - -Before he had met Queenie Trevalyn, he had believed in women much as he -believed in angels--that they were incapable of deceit, or treachery, -and could do nothing wrong. - -And now his experience with Jess strengthened the conviction that -his theory concerning the fair sex had been radically wrong. Now he -believed from the very depths of his heart that they were incapable of -feeling a true affection, and were ready to jilt one lover, at the very -altar if need be, if they found some one else more eligible--that they -were mercenary to the heart’s core. - -He did his best to dislike little Jess, but, do what he would, his -heart seemed to warm to her in spite of himself. - -“She is young, and has had no one to tell her, no one to warn her, of -the sin of trifling with an honest man’s affections, and breaking his -heart,” he ruminated, passing his hand thoughtfully over his brow. - -“There is only one thing to be done, and that is, to set her free as -soon as it can be lawfully accomplished, that she may wed the man who -held her plighted troth at the time she came here three weeks ago.” - -All that would take time. He felt sorry for the poor fellow, whoever -he might be, because of that. He would see that Jess was free from the -bonds that bound her to himself at the earliest possible day; that was -the best he could do for his unknown rival. - -John Dinsmore thus settled the matter in his own mind, and tried to -feel duly happy over the result of his decision, but somehow he felt a -vague regret, he could not have told why. - -He had promised Jess that she should hear from him in the course of -a week, or two weeks at the most. Now, after much reflection, he -concluded to go to New York, and see her there, and tell her plainly -the course he proposed to adopt. - -She could certainly find no fault with his action when he revealed to -her the astonishing information that he, whom she had wedded as plain -Mr. Moore, was in reality John Dinsmore, co-heir with her to all the -Dinsmore millions. - -Her marriage with him had entitled her to her half of the vast estate, -and he was willing to sign over the balance of it. He cared nothing -for wealth, although it had poured in upon him from the sale of his -famous book. - -True, he had not communicated with his publishers since the day he left -Newport to go South, and had met with the accident which laid him up at -Caldwell farm; but for all that, he knew the money had accumulated, and -was ready for him whenever he chose to call for it. - -And once again he told himself bitterly that fame and fortune had come -to him too late. - -Had he possessed it in that bitter hour upon the Newport sands, when -he laid his heart at the dainty feet of the proud Queenie Trevalyn, -she might have accepted, and married him, and his blood ran riot for -an instant through his veins at the bare thought of it. But he put her -away from his thoughts most resolutely, telling himself that he must -not allow his mind to dwell upon her for an instant, for she was now, -of course, the bride of Raymond Challoner. - -He had no thought that she would be in New York; indeed, he fancied -that she would be spending her honeymoon abroad. - -“Why should I yearn for you still, my queen?” he murmured hoarsely, -stretching out his arms toward empty space with a great, tearless sob -that he strangled fiercely in his throat rather than give it utterance. -“God only knows; and I add: God help me!” - -He had gained his self-possession, and was his usual calm self when at -length he retraced his steps to the farmhouse. He went directly to the -low-roofed kitchen, where he was sure of finding Lucy and her mother -preparing the midday meal. - -The girl looked up brightly and shyly as the long shadow that fell -across the floor told her that he was near. Indeed, some subtle -instinct would have told her of his near presence, even had there been -no sunshine, no light, and the darkness of Erebus had shrouded the -earth. - -“I am making something you like, Mr. Moore,” she said, holding up a -great dish of golden-brown crullers before him. “And mother has made an -apple pie, and you are also to have Johnny-cake and honey.” - -“You and your mother are very thoughtful, and very considerate of my -likes--regarding the good things you are preparing--but I fear I will -not be able to enjoy them for the reason that I am come to tell you -that I am going to take the next train that leaves for New York, which -will leave me scarcely more than time to get from here down to the -depot in the village.” - -Glancing carelessly enough from the mother to the daughter, he saw the -laughter die from Lucy’s face, and the light from her eyes. She laid -down the dish of golden-brown crullers on the table, still looking -at him piteously, it almost seemed to him. He did not understand the -expression of her face. It was as one who awaits a sentence of life or -death. - -“What is the matter, Lucy; are you ill?” cried Mrs. Caldwell in alarm, -seeing how white her daughter’s face had grown, but before she could -reach her side, Lucy had fallen in a dead swoon to the kitchen floor. - -For an instant the young man standing in the doorway was dazed with -amazement, but in the next he sprang forward to raise the girl. - -“Do not go near my Lucy! Do not touch her!” cried the unhappy mother, -distractedly. “This is all your work, sir--all your work!” - -John Dinsmore drew back in much distress. Never by word, act or deed, -had he given the girl encouragement to bestow her affections upon -himself. He was touched deeply. He remembered his own hopeless love -for Queenie Trevalyn, and could sympathize from the very bottom of his -heart with any human being who loved in vain. - -His eyes filled with tears; he who had been drawn on by dimpling smiles -and coquettish glances until his whole heart had been drawn from his -bosom, only to be ruthlessly cast aside when he acknowledged, while he -pleaded for the heart of the girl he loved, that he had not wealth to -offer her. - -“You will at least allow me to carry her into the other room and place -her on the settee for you?” he asked, gently, noting that the slender -form, light as the burden was, would certainly be beyond the strength -of the mother’s arms. - -Again she waved him away. - -“Living or dead, you shall not lay a finger on my child,” she said, -bitterly, adding, with a burst of grief: “I am sorry, sorry that you -ever darkened the farmhouse door; but I never dreamed you would lure my -girl’s heart from her, and then coolly inform us that you were going -away.” - -He made the irate mother no answer; indeed, of what use would it be to -defend his actions? Nothing that he would say would mend matters. He -must go at once. It was very sad; very pitiful; but all the same he -must go. - -He said good-by to Mrs. Caldwell, and turned sorrowfully away, when she -turned stolidly in another direction, refusing to take any notice of -him. It was better that he should go ere Lucy returned to consciousness. - -An hour later he was speeding on toward New York, leaving the farm and -its occupants far behind him, to see them never again. He meant to see -Jess at once, and have the parting over with her without unnecessary -delay, and after that--well, it mattered little enough to him what -became of him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. A GREAT SURPRISE. - - - “Like some lone bird, without a mate, - My weary heart is desolate; - I look around, and cannot trace - One friendly smile, one welcoming face; - And e’en in crowds, I’m still alone, - Because--I cannot love--but one.” - -John Dinsmore experienced quite a change of climate when he reached New -York from that which he had just left behind him in the sunny South. A -violent snowstorm was raging, and it was bitter cold. - -Busy as the streets of the great metropolis always were there seemed -to be more than the usual throng surging to and fro, and then John -Dinsmore remembered what he came very near forgetting, that it was -Thanksgiving Eve. - -How happy were the faces of all who passed him, as though there were -no such things in the world as sorrow, desolation, and heartaches. He -smiled a bitter smile, telling himself that he had little enough to -give thanks for, in the way of happiness. He hesitated a moment on the -corner of Broadway, wondering if it were best to go to a hotel, or to -the room of his old friends, Jerry Gaines and Ballou. - -“I do not feel equal to seeing and talking with even the Trinity -to-night,” he muttered. “They would want an account of all that -transpired since I saw them last, and I am not equal to it just yet. -How surprised they will be, and pleased to know that I escaped the -wreck under which the papers had me buried, and still more pleased to -learn that I married the girl that Uncle Dinsmore selected for me; but -they will do their best to argue me out of my firm resolve to divorce -the girl. But nothing that they can say or do will shake me in my -purpose. I will set the girl free in the shortest possible time, that -she may wed the man to whom she was engaged when I came upon the scene -and married her, never dreaming she was in love with another, and that -the reports of my wealth had tempted her to prove false to him. I know -but too well what the poor fellow must have suffered.” - -Finding himself in the vicinity of the home of the Trevalyns, that -is, the address Queenie had given him when they were at Newport, he -concluded that there was no time like the present to discharge the -unpleasant task. He therefore turned his steps in that direction at -once. - -A brisk walk of scarcely three minutes brought him to the number he was -in search of, No. -- Fifth Avenue. - -The obsequious servant who answered the summons at the door bowed low -to the tall, distinguished-looking gentleman whom he found there. - -It was then that John Dinsmore made the fatal mistake of his life. He -called for Miss Trevalyn, instead of Mrs. Trevalyn. - -“Evidently the gentleman doesn’t know that our young lady is married,” -thought the servant, and he answered with a smile: - -“The lady has changed her address, sir. You will find her at No. -- -Fifty-second Street.” - -The man would have given him additional information in the next breath, -but at that instant John Dinsmore turned swiftly, and with a courteous -bow descended the steps. - -“Probably an old beau of our young lady’s,” thought the servant, gazing -thoughtfully after the tall, commanding form. “I should say also that -he is not a New Yorker, or he would have known all about Miss Queenie’s -marriage to the old millionaire, who turned out on his death to be -almost a pauper. That ought to be a warning to all young girls who -would marry old men for their supposed wealth.” - -Meanwhile John Dinsmore was making his way with long, swinging strides -to the address given, which he knew could be scarcely more than a -couple of blocks or so away. - -He could not see much of the exterior of the house, for, although -scarcely five in the afternoon, it was already dark. - -Once again he asked for Miss Trevalyn, instead of inquiring for Mrs. -Trevalyn, his thoughts were, alas! so full of the girl he had loved so -madly, so deeply--and lost so cruelly. - -The servant stared for an instant blankly, but in the next he -remembered that that was the name of his young mistress before her -marriage, and with a low bow invited the gentleman to enter, throwing -open the drawing-room door for him. - -John Dinsmore knew that she would recognize the name his card bore at -the first glance. - -After much consideration he had thought it best to acquaint Mrs. -Trevalyn with the true state of affairs before seeing Jess--she being -the girl’s hostess, and the one whom she would seek advice from--after -he had had his interview with her. - -He seated himself in the nearest chair and awaited her coming. - -He had scarcely seated himself ere his eyes fell upon a picture of -Queenie, a life-size painting, hanging upon the opposite wall. His -heart was in his eyes as he gazed. - -The old sorrow that he thought he had strangled to death by main force -of indomitable will seemed to have sprung instantly into new life. The -old sorrow was crying aloud. What vain, wild passion; what deep regret, -there was still in his heart! He tried to withdraw his eyes from the -fatal beauty of that pictured face, which was, ah! so lifelike, but it -seemed impossible for him to do so. - -A mad desire which he could not repress seemed to draw him toward it, -and mechanically he allowed himself to cross the room and stand before -it. And he could hardly keep from falling on his knees before it, -touching the little hands that seemed so lifelike; and, God help him, -to restrain himself from kissing passionately the beautiful lips that -he had hungered so to caress from the first moment that he and Queenie -Trevalyn had met. - -The temptation mastered him. “Just once; no one in the wide world will -ever know,” he muttered, hoarsely, “and what can it matter; it can do -no harm to the soulless canvas,” and, raising his feverish face, he -kissed passionately the lips of the picture, not once, but many times. -Then he turned away with his heart on fire, and flung himself down -into the depths of the great armchair again, burying his face in his -trembling hands. - -“A love such as mine can never die,” he groaned, and he wondered how he -should ever be able to meet Queenie face to face, and live through it, -if it was such an effort to gain anything like composure when he came -suddenly upon her picture in her mother’s drawing-room. - -He thought of the few happy weeks in which he had sunned himself in the -presence of his idol without a care or a thought of how it was to end, -although he should have realized the great gulf more clearly that lay -between them at that time--she being rich, and he poor as it is the -fate of most authors to be. - -And lines of his own composing, lines which appeared in his book, came -to his mind: - - “’Tis no easy matter, as most authors know, - To coin pleasant thoughts from the mind’s full mint; - And then, after all, he must ask no pay, - But be satisfied merely to see it in print.” - -He wished with all his heart that the girl he loved so well had married -some man more worthy of her than Raymond Challoner, the libertine and -gambler. - -He turned the chair around. He had always imagined himself a brave -man; now he knew that he had not the control over himself that he had -imagined. - -“Fool that I am, I would give ten years of my life to live those three -blissful weeks at Newport over again,” he muttered sadly and hoarsely. -“I feel so unnerved that I almost wish that I could find some excuse -for leaving this house without seeing Jess; but that cannot be, I -suppose, for that must be Mrs. Trevalyn’s step which I hear in the -corridor.” - -With a heavy sigh he crushed back the unhappiness that had swept over -his heart, and summoned by a mighty effort the calm expression which -had become habitual to his face, and the coldness to his eyes. - -It was not an instant too soon, however, for at that moment the -portières before the door were swept back by a white, jeweled hand. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. AT HIS FEET. - - - “Can I behold thee, and not speak my love? - E’en now, thus sadly, as thou standst before me, - Thus desolate, dejected, and forlorn, - Thy softness steals upon my yielding senses, - Until my soul is faint from grief and pain.” - --ROWE. - -When the servant took Mr. John Dinsmore’s card to his mistress, he -found that lady sitting moodily alone before the sea-coal fire which -burned brightly in the grate. - -“A caller, on such a day, and at such an hour,” she muttered quite -below her breath, as she took the card from the silver tray. - -One glance at the superscription which the bit of pasteboard bore, and -she fell back in her chair, almost fainting from sheer terror. - -The question of the servant, who was regarding her critically, aroused -her to her senses. He was saying: - -“Are you out, or in, my lady?” - -The color rushed back to her face, and the lifeblood to her heart. - -“What a fool I am,” she told herself, a frown gathering upon her face. -“It is Raymond Challoner, of course, as he is now masquerading under -the name. Of course I might have expected this, but, nevertheless, it -shocked me.’ But aloud she said: - -“I will see the gentleman.” - -When the man had departed she arose slowly to her feet, ruminating: “As -he is impatient, I will not keep him waiting; but he will not relish -the message which I bring him from the obstinate little Jess, that -she positively refuses to see him, despite all my pleading with her. -Raymond Challoner is not quite the lady-killer that he imagines himself -to be.” - -Despite the fact that she prided herself upon her beauty, and always -looking her best on every occasion, she did not even glance at the long -French mirror as she swept past it. - -She walked slowly down the stairway and along the broad corridor, -pausing before the door of the drawing-room, which was ajar. - -She swept back the heavy velvet portières with her white, jeweled hand, -pausing on the threshold for an instant. - -One glance at the tall, commanding figure of the gentleman who had -arisen hastily from his seat, and a low cry, half terror, and half joy, -broke from her lips. - -Great God! Was her brain turning? Was she mad? Or did her eyes deceive -her? Instead of the slender, dapper form of Raymond Challoner, she -beheld the tall form that she had mourned over as having long since -mingled with the dust. John Dinsmore it was, standing, alive and well, -before her, in the flesh, surely--not a ghost, a phantom, a delusion. - -John Dinsmore reeled back as though some one had struck him a heavy -blow, and one word fell from his white lips--“Queenie!” - -With an impetuous cry she sprang forward, holding out both of her -hands, sobbing: - -“John, have you found it in your heart to forgive me? Surely it must -be so, or--or you would not be here, you, whom I mourned as dead, -believing the newspaper accounts which described the terrible wreck of -the train on which you were a passenger.” - -She advanced to his side and touched his hand, murmuring in the old, -sweet voice which had haunted him both night and day for long, weary -months: - -“John, speak to me. Surely you are here to tell me that you forgive -me.” And before he could divine her intention, she had flung herself on -her knees before him. - -For half an instant he almost believed that he was the victim of a mad, -wild nightmare. The woman he loved so madly, the woman who so cruelly -deceived him, the woman whom he had tried in his heart to scorn, to -hate, kneeling before him, asking his forgiveness! He almost fancied -that he did not hear, or see aright. - -His first impulse is to gather her in his arms and rain all the -passionate love that has been locked up in his almost broken heart -upon her, but, just in the nick of time, he remembers that they are no -longer lovers--that a barrier is between them. His face flushes, and -his arms, that had stretched forth involuntarily to clasp her, fall -heavily to his side. - -His teeth shut tightly together. He is angry with himself for showing -his weakness. - -A hot flush mantles his brow. He folds his arms tightly over his chest -and looks down at the beautiful girl kneeling before him, wondering -vaguely where Raymond Challoner, her husband, is. - -At that moment he catches sight of her dress, which he had not noticed -before--black crape, the emblem of widowhood--and his heart gives a -spasmodic twitch. - -“Rise, madam,” he says, hoarsely. “Why should you kneel to me?” - -“Here I shall remain until you tell me that you forgive me,” she -answers, beginning to weep bitterly, and going on through her sobs: -“Listen to me, John. I will die if I cannot speak and tell you all. -Do not look at me with those eyes of scorn. If you knew all you would -pity instead of scorn me. They made me marry him--my parents, I -mean--because of his wealth.” - -John Dinsmore’s lips twitch. He essays to speak, but the words he would -utter refuse to come from his lips. He is like one suddenly stricken -dumb. - -“John,” she goes on in that same sweet, piteous voice that reaches -down through his heart to the farthest depths of his soul, “you loved -me with all the strength of your nature once, but that you had the -power to cast me so utterly from your thoughts, from the moment you -discovered my unworthiness, I never for a moment doubted. Oh, Heaven! -it was the thought that you had utterly forgotten me, while I, bound to -another, loved you more than ever, that caused me so much misery. Bound -to a man I hated, and loving you, alas, too late! with all the strength -of my heart! Think of it, John Dinsmore, and if a heart still beats -in your bosom, you cannot withhold your forgiveness. When my husband -died I--I felt as though I had begun a new life, with the fetters thus -removed from me.” - -“Your husband is dead, Queenie?” gasps John Dinsmore. - -She flushes deeply, and answers with deep agitation: - -“You might have known my--my--husband was dead, or I would never have -made the confession to you which I have just now made.” - -“I had not heard of Raymond Challoner’s death,” he answered, trying in -vain to steady his voice. - -“You are in grave error if you think I married Raymond Challoner,” -answered Queenie, quietly. “I--I married his uncle--an old man of three -score years and ten--at the urgent request of my parents, who would -give me no peace day or night. I--I married him to save my father from -financial ruin, believing him to be a millionaire. When he died, a few -days ago, I learned that he was on the verge of bankruptcy. It is a -just punishment to me--a just punishment. But I have gained more than -the wealth of the world could purchase--my freedom. Oh, my love of -other days, do you understand that I am free now to be wooed and wed? -Surely you still care for me, John Dinsmore. You are only trying my -love not to tell me this and set my heart at rest.” - -As she utters the words she clasps both of her hands tightly about his -arm and looks up into his face, which has grown strangely pale. - -“Hush! hush!” he whispers, tearing himself free from the light hold -of those lovely white hands. “I cannot suffer you to utter another -word, madam. I will forget what you have said, for I ought not to have -listened to it. It is my turn to ask you now to listen, and what I -would say is this: There is an impassable barrier between you and me, -Queenie.” - -“A barrier!” she gasped. “Surely there is nothing in this world that -can separate us two a second time.” - -“It is you who are mistaken,” he said in a very unsteady voice. “There -is an impassable barrier between us, I repeat, in the shape of--my -wife. I am now married.” - -Queenie’s eyes almost start from their sockets, the shock and the -horror of his words affect her so terribly. He is married! She wonders -that those words did not strike her dead. She stands for a moment -looking at him like one bidding a last farewell to life, hope, and the -world. - -“You are married?” she gasps again. “Oh, my God! my punishment is more -than I can bear!” and she sinks on the floor at his feet with a piteous -moan, burying her face in her hands and weeping as women seldom weep in -a lifetime. - -It was not in human nature to see the woman whom he still loved so -madly lying there weeping for love of him, without his heart being -stirred to its utmost, and John Dinsmore was human enough to feel the -warm blood dashing madly through his veins and his heart, beating -violently with all the old love reawakening. - -He turns and walks excitedly up and down the length of the long -drawing-room, his arms folded tightly over his heaving chest. - -“Then, if you did not come here to see me, and did not know I was now a -widow, why are you here?” cried Queenie, at length, standing before him -with a death-white face, a strange suspicion dawning in her breast. - -“I am here to see my wife, who is beneath this roof,” he answered, -huskily. “My wife is little Jess, but as she was bound to secrecy -concerning it, I can see that she has not told you.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. A TEST OF LOVE. - - - “Let no one say that there is need - Of time for love to grow. - Ah, no, the love that kills, indeed, - Dispatches at a blow.” - -“Jess is your wife!” repeated Queenie, in a voice so hollow and -deathlike that it might have come from the tomb. - -John Dinsmore bowed his head in assent, and as he did so, his companion -detected a shadow of bitterness in his eyes, and a whitening of his -face. - -“What to you seems so strange can be explained in a very few words, if -you care to hear that explanation,” he said, slowly. - -Queenie bowed her head eagerly. Like him, words seemed to fail her. -She sank into the nearest chair, pointing to one opposite her, but he -declined the proffered seat, remarking that, “with her permission, he -would prefer standing.” - -For some moments he stood leaning against the marble mantel ere he -could control himself sufficiently to tell his story. - -Then he began almost abruptly: - -“When you knew me at Newport, I told you that I was simply John -Dinsmore, Author, Bohemian. I did not add that I was the last of kin -of a wealthy uncle who had always told me that I should be his heir, -for I despise men who live in expectancy of falling into dead men’s -shoes, and getting the good out of fortunes which other men have toiled -for. I depended upon myself and my own achievements for getting along -in the world. - -“Well, to make a long narrative brief, scarcely two days had -passed after you and I had parted that night on the sands, ere the -intelligence was brought to me that my uncle had just died abroad, and -that I was his heir. But there was a condition to it, however, in the -shape of a codicil, declaring, that in order to inherit this fortune, I -was to become the husband of a maiden whom he had selected for me, to -wit: a young girl named Jess, who lived on his plantation, Blackheath -Hall, down in Louisiana. The will also added, should I fail to do this, -the girl, Jess, like myself, would be disinherited.” - -“And you, whom I thought the soul of honor, beyond the power of being -bought by sordid gold, wedded this girl for the Dinsmore millions!” -cried Queenie, bitterly. - -He looked at her reproachfully, and his firm lips quivered ever so -slightly. The accusation was galling to him. - -“No,” he said, sharply; “not so. Fate, if there indeed be such a -condition, forged link after link of the chain, and I was”--he was -going to add--“drawn into it,” but he bit his lip savagely, keeping -back the words. But Queenie’s quick wit supplied just what he withheld. - -After a brief pause he continued: - -“I was on my way down South to tell the girl that the wedding could -never take place, when that railway accident occurred which held me -prisoner, as it were, at the farm of the Caldwells for many weeks. Not -wishing the information to get into the newspapers, I gave those good -people the name of Moore. Imagine my amazement when fate, as I call it -again, brought the girl, Jess, to that very farmhouse.” - -“And you fell in love with her and married her out of hand?” broke in -Queenie again, trembling with agitation. - -“Again you are in error,” he retorted, with a deep-drawn sigh. “Looking -on the girl, I pitied her, for the reason that my failure to fall in -love with and wed her would cost her one-half of the Dinsmore fortune, -just as it would cost me the other half. My action would make her -homeless, penniless. The more I brooded over that the more I pitied -her, and one day a path out of the dilemma seemed to suddenly open out -before me. Something seemed to say to me: ‘Why not marry the girl, and -thus secure the fortune to her which should be hers?’ - -“At first my heart rebelled at the notion, but the more I turned it -over in my mind, the more it seemed my solemn duty to do so. I put -the plan into execution at once, lest my resolution should fail me, -and still calling myself Mr. Moore, I asked Jess to marry me, and her -answer was ‘yes.’ - -“I meant to tell her who I was after the marriage ceremony, and add -‘now that I have secured to you the fortune that is yours through my -uncle’s desire, I leave it with you to fulfill your marriage vows, or -bid me depart,’ and to also tell her that I intended to make over my -share of the Dinsmore millions to her. - -“Before we reached the farmhouse again, after the marriage, which I -need scarcely add was a secret one, I exacted a promise from the lips -of Jess that she would not reveal what had taken place until I gave her -permission to do so. - -“She left with Lawyer Abbot for New York within the hour, I promising -to write her within a fortnight after she had arrived here. Instead, -I concluded that it was best to come in person, see her, reveal my -identity, and leave my future and my fate in her hands. That is my -story. I did not know I should find you in this house, Queenie, Heaven -knows I did not. I was informed that your parents now resided here. I -thought you were wedded to Raymond Challoner, and away in Europe on -your bridal trip.” - -“Instead you find me a widow,” murmured Queenie, looking up into his -face with eager shining eyes and her breath coming and going swiftly -with every palpitation of her heaving bosom. - -“Too late, too late!” he muttered in a low voice almost under his -breath, but not so low but what his companion caught the words. - -“No, no!” she cried, vehemently, “it is not too late, John Dinsmore. -This girl is nothing to you, less than nothing since you do not love -her. Give her half of the Dinsmore millions, since it must be hers, and -divorce her, as you had planned, and then--then----” - -“Good Heavens! What are you saying, Mrs.----” - -John Dinsmore stops short, and Queenie knows that he cannot call her by -that name--that it sticks in his throat. - -Queenie has the grace to blush, and then she covers her crimson face -with her hands! Surely he must understand what she has left unsaid--and -he does, and gives a great start of surprise. Hitherto Queenie has -occupied a pedestal high as an angel in his heart. Is this the girl -whom he has worshiped so madly, this girl who is coolly counseling him -to divorce the girl who is his wedded wife? All in an instant of time -the mad, passionate love he has had for Queenie dies a tragic death. - -It was his intention to divorce little Jess, but now that it is -proposed to him by another--oh, strange perversity of human nature!--he -seems to recoil from it, he knows not why. - -Queenie’s quick intuition tells her that she has lost ground with John -Dinsmore in making such a cool, calculating, unwomanly proposition, but -before she can utter another word to mend matters, in his opinion, she -hears the voice of Jess calling to her from the corridor outside: - -“Queenie, Queenie, where in the world can you be? I have looked -everywhere for you.” - -Another instant and she will reach the drawing-room. - -Queenie darts to the door to intercept her. She must not enter that -room in which her husband is standing. - -But as Queenie flies from the apartment by one door, Jess enters it by -another. - -For one instant she stands fairly transfixed, as her gaze encounters -the tall, commanding figure standing there. - -In the next she has reached his side with such a cry of intense delight -that in spite of himself it has gone straight to his heart. - -“My husband! oh, my husband!” And almost before he is aware of what is -happening, two soft, white arms have been flung about his neck and a -pair of rosy lips is pressed to his, and a world of ardent kisses is -showered upon him, in a way which fairly takes his breath away. - -“How delightful of you to come and take me by surprise like this,” Jess -was crying, breathlessly and delightedly. “I was thinking of you just -this minute, and that I would give anything in this world to see you.” - -He feels that he must make some retort, but he is at a loss for words, -and he can only articulate: - -“Are you so very glad to see me again, little girl? Why is it--why?” - -“Why?” echoes Jess, with a melodious little laugh like liquid sunshine. -“Why, because I love you so. I have loved you more and more every hour -and day that we have been apart, until I felt that I could not stand -being away from you much longer, and now you are here, and I am so -glad--so glad!” - -“Little Jess,” exclaims John Dinsmore, holding the girl off at arm’s -length, “child, do you know what you are saying?” And his face grows -deathly white as he looked down into the fair, dimpled, flushed young -face gazing so fondly up at him. - -“Of course I know what I’m saying!” laughed the girl, joyously. “I am -telling how dearly I love you--love you better than all the wide world -besides, and how happy I am now that you have come for me to claim me, -and take me away with you. I shall never leave you again, never, never, -never! I have thought of nothing but you night and day since you sent -me from you, and counted the hours until I should behold you again; but -that is all past now. Oh, how good of you to come for me before the two -weeks were up.” - -“My God!” bursts from John Dinsmore’s lips, as Jess reiterates her love -for him over again in impulsive, childish fashion. “I never dreamed of -this!” - -“You have forgotten to kiss me, and say that you are as glad to see me -as I am to see you,” she goes on, breathlessly, in a headlong fashion, -as she falls to kissing him in her impulsive way over and over again, -fairly smothering him with the intense love she is showering upon -him--a love that he knows wells up from the very depths of her young -heart--a love which she is too innocent to attempt to try to conceal -from him. No wonder he looks at her askance--wondering how in the world -he is ever to utter the words that he has come to tell her--that he is -there to bid her an eternal farewell! - - - - -CHAPTER XL. THE FIRST LOVE. - - - “Oh, Love, poor Love, avail - Thee nothing now thy faiths, thy braveries? - There is no sun, no bloom; a cold wind strips - The bitter foam from off the wave where dips - No more thy prow; thy eyes are hostile eyes; - The gold is hidden; vain thy tears and cries; - Oh, Love, poor Love, why didst thou burn thy ships?” - -John Dinsmore holds the girl off at arm’s length and looks down into -the sweet, innocent young face with troubled eyes. - -“You love me!” he repeated, as though he were not quite sure that he -heard aright. - -Jess pushes back the soft black curls from her face and laughs gayly, -and the sound of her voice is like the music of silver bells. She -does not answer his question in words, but nods her dark, curly head -emphatically. - -His hands fall from her; he turns abruptly and takes one or two turns -up and down the length of the long drawing-room. - -How shall he utter the words to her which he has come here to say? How -shall he tell her that he is there to say good-by to her forever? - -“Do you know what I have been thinking ever since I came to this -house?” she asked, as he paused an instant by her side, with the deep, -troubled look on his face which so mystified her. - -“No,” he answered, hoarsely, glad that she was about to say something, -for it would give him a moment or two longer in which to come to a -conclusion. - -“I was thinking how very stupid I am, and how wonderful it was that you -married a little simpleton like me.” - -That was the very opening he needed, to utter that which was weighing -heavily on his mind; but without giving him the opportunity, although -his lips had opened to speak, she went on, blithely: - -“I am going to study hard and become very wise, like the lady I am -visiting here. But, oh, I forgot; you do not know Queenie--Mrs. Brown, -I mean; but, dear me, it seems so odd to call her Mrs. anybody, she -is so much more like an unmarried girl. Oh, she is so lovely, and -graceful, and sweet. Do you know, it occurred to me only yesterday that -had you seen her first, even though she is a widow, you might have -fallen in love with her instead of me.” - -This was becoming almost unendurable. Who knew better than he the -charms of Queenie? - -“I am going to be stately and dignified like she is, and I am going to -be wise and womanly. Do you think you will love me quite as much then -as you do now?” - -He could safely answer “Yes,” for he did not love her at all. - -“Thank you so much for assuring me of it,” she murmured, seizing his -white hands and covering them with kisses. “Now I shall begin with a -will.” - -The girl did not seem to notice the shadow that was growing each moment -still deeper on his face, and the look of despair that was gathering -in his troubled eyes, and the gravity, almost to sternness, that had -settled about his mouth. - -Each moment this bright, gay child, who loved him so dearly, and was -telling him so in every word, act and deed, was making the task before -him but the harder. - -How would she take it when he told her that she need make no -sacrifices, or study, on his account, for he never intended to see her -again? - -“You do not know how much I have thought about you since I left you -that day on the farm,” she went on. “When you faded from my sight in -the distance, though I strained my eyes hard to look back at you, -standing there on the old porch, I bowed my head and wept so piteously -that poor old Lawyer Abbot was in great fear lest my heart should -break. I never knew until then what love, that they talk about, really -was. - -“All in a moment it seemed to take a deeper root in my heart--my life -seemed to merge into yours--and I lived with but one thought in my -mind, of the time when you should come for me, and I should never have -to leave you again---never, never, never! And every moment since my -heart has longed for you, cried out for you. You were the last thought -I had when I closed my eyes in sleep; and then I dreamed of you; and my -first thought on awakening was of you--always of you. Is not that the -kind of love which the poets tell about, and which you feel toward me?” - -This is the opportunity which he has been waiting for, and he attempts -to grasp it, and get the disagreeable task over. It is the golden -chance he has been so eager for. - -Slowly he puts his hands on both of the girl’s shoulders, and looks -down into her beaming, dimpled, happy face, and in a low, trembling -voice he says: - -“My little wife”--it is the first time he has called her wife. He has -never before addressed her by an endearing term. It has always been -“Child,” or “little Jess,” before, and every fiber of the young wife’s -being responds to that sweetest of names--“My little wife.” - -As John Dinsmore utters these words he sinks down in the chair opposite -her, but the words he is trying to speak rise in his throat and choke -him. - -In an instant two soft, plump arms are around his neck, a pair of soft, -warm lips are kissing his death-cold cheek, and a pair of little hands -are caressing him. His child-wife has flung herself into his lap, -exclaiming: - -“That is the first time you ever called me wife, and, oh, how sweet it -sounded to my ears.” - -John Dinsmore’s heart smote him. He could not utter the words which -would hurl her down from heaven to the darkest of despair just then. - -“Let her live in the Paradise of her own creating at least another -day,” he ruminated; and then a still brighter thought occurred to him, -to write to Jess, telling her all. If she wept then, or fainted, or -went mad from grief, he would not be there to witness it. He was not -brave enough to give her her death wound, with the cruel words that -they must part, while she was clinging to him in such rapturous bliss, -covering his face with kisses. - -And that was the sight that met Queenie’s gaze as she returned to the -drawing-room a few moments later. - -Jess in her husband’s lap, her face pressed close to his. - -For a moment Queenie stood as though rooted to the threshold. She had -purposely remained out of the apartment, seeing Jess enter, until he -had time enough to tell her his errand there, and the picture that met -her startled eyes went through her heart like the sharp thrust of a -sword. - -“My God! is it possible that he has changed his mind about parting from -her? Does he love her?” was Queenie’s mental cry. - -At the sight of the beautiful vision in the doorway, John Dinsmore -springs to his feet, putting his young wife hastily from him. - -Jess is blushing like a full-blown rose in June. - -“Oh, Mrs. Brown--Queenie--don’t be so terribly shocked, please,” she -cries, dancing to her side and flinging her arms around her. “I am -going to explain something about this gentleman which will surprise -you dreadfully. He is my husband!” And as she utters the words -triumphantly, she steps back and looks at Queenie, cresting her pretty -head sideways, like a young robin. - -It is a most embarrassing moment for Dinsmore. He stands pale and -silent, between them, wondering if ever mortal man was placed in such -a wretched predicament. On one side stands the girl he loves, the girl -he wooed and lost on that never-to-be-forgotten summer by the murmuring -sea, and on the other side the girl who loves him, the girl to whom -he is bound fast by marriage bonds, and to whom he owes loyalty and -protection. From deathlike paleness his face flushed hotly. - -He longed to seize his hat and rush from the house. In his dilemma fate -favored him. There is a ring at the bell, and the next instant callers -are announced in the sonorous voice of the servant. - -John Dinsmore seized this opportunity to make his adieus. He never -afterward remembered just how it was accomplished, or what he said. -He only remembered telling Jess that she should hear from him on the -morrow. The next instant the cold air of the street was blowing on his -face. - -He had gone without kissing the quivering mouth of his young -girl-bride. He had not even seen that it was held up to him for a -parting caress. - -Queenie noted that fact in triumph. - -“It would not take so long to get a divorce from her, and then---- Ah, -Heaven! the one longing of her life would be granted. She would be his -wife.” - -Queenie was so carried away with her own thoughts and anticipations -that she was barely conscious that the girl-wife’s arms were once more -thrown about her, and Jess was whispering in her ear: - -“Now you know why I could not marry the other one, and did not wish -to see him again. I was already a wife. What do you think of my--my -husband? Is he not adorable?” - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. “WAS IT ALL A DREAM?” - - - “Mine is an unchanging love, - Higher than the heights above, - Deeper than depths beneath, - Free and faithful, strong as death.” - -Many a long hour, while the great city was sleeping that night, Queenie -paced the floor of her boudoir, deeply absorbed in her own turbulent -thoughts. - -It had been an exciting day to her, being brought face to face with -her old lover whom she had mourned as dead, and more exciting still to -learn of the barrier which fate had raised between them in the shape -of John Dinsmore’s bride--Jess, the girl who had been living under her -own roof as her guest. - -What would Raymond Challoner do, and say, she wondered, when she -informed him that the real John Dinsmore was alive, and more astounding -still, was wedded to the girl whom he was laying his plans to win, -because of her fortune? - -What vengeance would the arch-plotter take when he found his grand -scheme for millions lying in ruins at his feet? Queenie feared that he -would not lose an instant in putting John Dinsmore out of the way most -securely, and still have the effrontery to attempt to carry out his -scheme, should it become known to him that the little bride, Jess, did -not know the real identity of the man whom she had wedded. Should she -tell him that John Dinsmore lived, and that Jess was his wife, or not? -That was the troublous question she asked herself over and over again. - -“He must not harm one hair of John Dinsmore’s head,” she muttered -fiercely. “For he will be mine as soon as he can free himself from the -ties which now bind him.” - -Then her thoughts took another turn. A scheme came to her worthy of the -arch-fiend himself. Yes, it was feasible, and it should be carried out. - -It was almost dawn when Queenie threw herself upon her couch. She fell -into a deep sleep, and it was almost noon when she awoke the next day, -tired still, and unrefreshed. - -“Was it all a dream?” she muttered, as she rubbed her eyes and gazed at -Jess, who stood by the window in her room, patiently waiting for her to -awaken--Jess, with the happiest smile she had ever seen on that dimpled -young face, a smile as bright as the morning itself. - -“You lazy, beautiful queen!” cried the girl, springing to her side, -“how long you are sleeping to-day, and I longing to talk with you. I -felt like awakening you with a shower of kisses.” - -Queenie drew back from her embrace with repellent coldness. - -Down in the depths of her heart she hated with a deadly hatred this -girl who had the right to kiss the face of the man whom she loved, and -who bore his name. - -“What is the matter, Queenie? Are you not well?” exclaimed Jess, with -earnest solicitude. “Why, your hands are like ice; even your lips are -cold.” - -“I have a headache. If you don’t mind, I’d rather be alone for a little -while,” she replied, abruptly. - -Without another word Jess turned slowly and quitted the boudoir, -wondering greatly at the change of manner of her new-found friend, and -wondering if she had possibly done anything to offend her. - -But upon reaching her own room Jess forgot very quickly all about -Queenie and her grievance, in giving herself up to her delicious -daydreams of the future that awaited her with the reappearance of her -handsome, dignified husband. - -“Oh, how I love him,” the girl murmured, resting her dimpled cheek -against her pink palms. “It seems as though I had only just commenced -to live to-day. He ought to be here soon now. He said he would come on -the morrow, and then----” - -Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by the entrance of Queenie, who -came direct to the window where she sat, and laid a white hand lightly -on the girl’s arm. - -“You are come to tell that he--my husband--is here!” cried Jess, -tremulously, her face flushing with unconcealed delight. - -Queenie bent over and raised the dimpled chin in her hand, looking -searchingly down into the fair, happy young face, and then she -answered, slowly: - -“I wish to Heaven I could tell you so, my poor dear.” - -“Why, what can you mean, Queenie?” cried Jess, springing to her feet, a -premonition of coming evil rushing over her heart. - -“Can you bear a great shock, my love?” murmured Queenie, in a low -voice, tightening her hold of the girl’s arm. “Are you brave enough to -hear something that will be a great blow, a great sorrow to you?” - -Jess looked at her in affright. Her two little hands clutch at -Queenie’s skirts, while her eyes, like two burning flames, seem to -devour the face of the false friend. - -“If it is something about my--husband, tell me quick!” she breathes -hoarsely, “for the suspense is killing me.” - -“I would to Heaven that it was not my lot to break the pitiful news to -you, Jess, but perhaps I can do it better than any one else.” - -“Yes, yes; go on, go on. I am sure it is something about my husband,” -whispers Jess in intense excitement. - -Queenie nods, and clasps the two ice-cold hands of Jess in her own, -while she prepares to utter the death-warrant to the girl standing so -innocent and so helpless before her--at her mercy. - -“Little Jess, I pity you with all my heart,” she begins, “and my heart -bleeds for you. I cannot keep the truth back from you an instant -longer. Something has happened to your husband.” - -“He is hurt!” shrieked Jess, wildly, clutching at her heart as she -gulps out the choking words. - -“He met with an accident as he was leaving here, and he is--dead!” -whispers Queenie. - -The words have scarcely left her lips ere Jess falls like a log at her -feet. - -Dead! Queenie thinks at first, but as she bends over her, she finds to -her disappointment that is but a swoon. - -For a moment she stands gazing down at her evil work with a fiendish -smile curling her lips. - -“This is the first step I have taken in the plot to part this girl -most effectually from the man I love, and have set myself to win,” -she muttered in a hard voice, adding: “Why should I not? For he loves -me--not her.” - -She hears the maid’s step along the corridor, and hurries to the door -to intercept her. - -“The same gentleman who called yesterday,” thought the maid under her -breath, as she presented Mr. John Dinsmore’s card to her mistress, -saying aloud: “The gentleman asked to see Miss Jess.” - -“Very well,” returned the beautiful young widow, her hand trembling in -spite of her apparent calmness, as she took the bit of pasteboard. - -“She will lie there, in just that condition until long after my -interview with him is ended,” she muttered. “Still it is always wise to -take every possible precaution.” - -So saying, as she glided from the apartment, she turned and locked the -door noiselessly, and slipped the key into her pocket. - -On her way down to the drawing-room she paused long enough in her own -apartment to secure a letter which she had spent long hours the night -before in writing. - -In the drawing-room below John Dinsmore was pacing up and down -impatiently enough at the delay, for he was sure his little wife would -fairly fly down to his arms upon learning he was there. - -Jess’ reception of him the day before, and her acknowledgment of her -love for himself, had fairly carried his heart by storm. He could not -doubt but that other love affair had been brought about by a mistaken -fancy on the girl’s part, and that her affection for himself was true -love, the first and only time she had really loved. - -The peep he had had into her heart had been a revelation to him, and -then, and then only, he realized an amazing truth, that his own heart -answered that love--responded to it with an intenseness that startled -him with its power. - -“Thank Heaven that I did not tell her yesterday that the object of my -visit was to inform her that we must part; that I intended to divorce -her. Great God! I must have been mad to think of flinging aside so -ruthlessly a heart of such pure gold,” he ruminated. “I am thankful, -indeed, that I knew my own heart in time. Instead of telling her that -we must part, I will tell her that I am come to take her away with me, -and that we shall never be parted more, and that I love her even more -fondly than she loves me, and that henceforth our lives shall be one -long, sweet dream of bliss, that her happiness shall be my care, and a -lifetime of fond devotion shall repay her for giving her sweet, bright -self to my keeping.” - -Would she never come to him? Oh, how the moments seemed to drag, he -longed so to clasp Jess in his arms, and give her the first kiss of -love, burning, passionate love, that he had ever pressed upon her -lips--and she his bride. - -He almost believed that his love had developed into idolatry for Jess, -his sweet girl-bride. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII. THE PLOT THICKENS. - - - “I believe love, pure and true - Is to the soul a sweet, immortal dew - That gem life’s petals in its hours of dusk. - The waiting angels see and recognize - The rich crown-jewels, love, of Paradise, - When life falls from us like a withered husk.” - -As John Dinsmore instinctively turned toward the door, the silk -portières were swept aside with a white, jeweled hand, but his -disappointment was great, for, instead of beholding Jess, he saw -Queenie, in her long, trailing robes of black, standing on the -threshold. - -He greeted her constrainedly, for he noticed the heightened color -that flashed into her face, crimsoning it from brow to chin, and the -dazzling smile of welcome on her lips. - -Queenie swept into the room and up to his side with the graceful, -gliding motion peculiar to her, and which he had always admired so -greatly. - -Then he noticed that she held something in her hand--a letter. - -“You expected to see your wife,” she began, and then hesitated as -though at a loss how to proceed. - -“Yes,” he answered, and she saw him give a sudden start and turn pale, -as he quickly asked: - -“Is she not--well?” - -A sudden fire leaped into Queenie’s eyes at his solicitude over Jess, -and it hardened her heart toward him for being so interested in any -human being save herself. She felt no remorse for what she was about to -do; no sorrow for the blow her hand was about to inflict. - -No one would have dreamed that the sympathy she assumed in the -expression of her face as she looked up at him was far from being -the real state of her feelings. No one would ever have imagined that -beneath her calm demeanor her heart was rent with a war of dark, angry -passions, the outcome of a love which she realized was hopeless, by -the cold, distant greeting he had given her. She felt within her heart -and soul that he was there to claim Jess and take her away with him to -happiness and love, instead of being there to inform her that he wished -to part from her. Queenie’s keen intuition, her knowledge of men and -the world, told her that. - -Slowly she held up her white, jeweled hand with the letter in it, -saying, gently: - -“The bearers of unwelcome messages often share the fate of the messages -they bring. Do not let me be so unfortunate, Joh--Mr. Dinsmore.” - -Still he did not answer; his eyes were riveted on the letter she held, -which he could see bore his name. - -“This is for you,” she said, gently, “but ere you open it, let me say a -few words to you.” - -Again he bowed his fine, handsome head, wondering what she could have -to say to him, and also what Jess could have written to him about, for -he believed he recognized the handwriting upon the envelope, and his -heart was on fire to tear it open and devour its sweet contents. - -“Last evening Jess had a caller--a gentleman,” began Queenie, slowly, -pretending not to notice the violent start John Dinsmore gave. “He -remained an hour or more, and after he left, and Jess had returned to -her own room, which is opposite mine, I saw that she was strangely -agitated, and yet extremely jubilant--hilariously so. - -“She did not come into my boudoir to chat, as has been her custom since -she has been my guest here, saying she had a letter to write. That was -the last I saw of her, as I kissed her good-night and left her. - -“This morning one of the servants handed me this letter, saying that -Miss Jess, as they called her, had given this to them the night before -at a late hour, requesting that it should be given to me to place in -your hands when you should come to-day. I will retire into the library -while you read it at your leisure.” - -The next moment John Dinsmore found himself standing alone in the -luxurious drawing-room with Jess’ letter in his hand. - -“Why should his little bride write to him, instead of telling him -anything she had to say in person?” he wondered, vaguely, and with -the letter still held unopened in his hand he asked himself who Jess’ -caller of the previous evening could have been. But quite as soon as -the thought shaped itself in his mind, he came to the conclusion that -it must have been Lawyer Abbot. No doubt the letter was to inform him -that she had confessed her marriage to the old lawyer, and begged him -to send her word that he was not so very angry, ere she ventured to -come to him. - -He broke the seal and drew forth the letter. He had seen but one of -Jess’ letters before, the one which had reached him when he was lying -sick unto death from the outcome of the duel at Newport, consequently -he could not recollect the chirography very clearly, save that it was -in an unformed, straggling, girlish hand--the same as this appeared to -be. - -As John Dinsmore’s eyes ran rapidly over the first few lines, the blood -in his veins turned as cold as ice, and a blood-red mist seemed to -sweep across his vision. - -The letter ran as follows: - - “MY HUSBAND: When you are reading what I am now writing, I shall be - flying far away from you. I will tell you now by the medium of pen - and paper what I was too much of a coward to tell you yesterday in - person, and that is, that our marriage was a terrible mistake, and I - am rueing it most bitterly, especially since last evening. - - “At that time some one came to call upon me. I might just as well - tell you frankly who that some one was--the lover with whom I broke - faith when I so thoughtlessly, on the spur of the moment, sealed a - bitter fate for myself by marrying you. We had quarreled, and I, - well, to be truthful, I married you just to make him suffer, but the - words were scarcely uttered which bound me to you ere I rued it most - bitterly, though I did not betray my grief to you by word or act. - - “Well, my old lover came, and I--I do not ask your pity for my - weakness, for I realize fully that I do not deserve it. I knew that I - could not live my life out if he went from me again, though I knew I - was bound to you. Well, he felt the same toward me that I felt toward - him, and we both agreed to brave the world for love--and each other. - - “I gathered my few articles together, and--as I have said, by the - time you are reading these lines I will be far away with the man I - love. - - “I should not blame you if you were to get a divorce from me at once. - I realize that this admission from me gives you the proper grounds - for it. Indeed, I should be thankful if you would, for then I shall - be free to marry the man who already has my heart. I hope you will - find forgiveness for me in that big, noble heart of yours. - - “Forget me, and that I ever came into your life, and be happy, as I - feel sure you will be, in some other girl’s love. - - “I have nothing more to say, except that I hope you will not search - for me, for it will be useless. You can never, never find me. All - that I ask from you is to be let alone. I have followed the dictates - of my own heart, and that must be my reason for the step I am to take. - - “Again I urge that you make no attempt to discover my whereabouts. - Thanking you in advance for complying with my earnest request in this - respect, I sign myself for the first and last time. - - “YOUR WIFE JESS.” - -For some moments after he had finished this cruel epistle, John -Dinsmore sat staring at it like one suddenly bereft of reason. Little -Jess gone! eloped with a former lover! He could scarcely believe that -he had read the written lines aright. He told himself that he must be -laboring under some mad delusion. - -Over and over again he read the fatal words, until every line was -burned in letters of fire indelibly into his brain. - -He passed his cold, trembling hands over his brow. Great beads of -perspiration were standing out on it, and his veins were like knotted -whipcords. - -Little Jess, who only yesterday had clung to him with loving words and -kisses, awakening all the love that had lain dormant in his heart and -soul, had fled from him. He could almost as easily have looked for the -world to come suddenly to an end, and all time, light, hope and life -to be suddenly blighted and turned into chaos and darkness! - -In that moment of bitter pain he thought of lines he had read only -the day before in a book which he had seen on the drawing-room table, -while he was awaiting the coming of Jess. They recurred to him now with -crushing force: - - “I met a kindred heart, and that heart to me said: ‘Come;’ - Mine went out to meet it, but was lost in sudden gloom. - Whither wander all these fair things, to some land beyond life’s sea? - Is there nothing glad and lasting in this weary world for me?” - -Never until that moment did John Dinsmore realize how deeply he had -learned to love the girlish bride who had just fled from him, crushing -his heart and wrecking his life so cruelly. - -For the second time in his life he had been ruthlessly hurt by the -woman to whom he had allowed his honest heart to go out in abounding -love. - -He heard a rustle beside him, and raising his death-white face quickly, -he saw Queenie standing before him. - -“I know all, John--Mr. Dinsmore,” she murmured, “and I pity you from -the depths of my heart. If I could give my life to bring her back to -you, if you love her, I would gladly do it. And yet, she’s not worthy -of such terrible grief as you are enduring.” - -Alas! in that hour of his bitter woe, how sweet was Queenie’s sympathy, -which was indeed balm to his wounded, bleeding heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII. THE LOVE THAT WILL NOT DIE. - - - “Oh, answer, love, my pleading! - The precious moments pass; - And I long these waters o’er - May come no more, alas! - Ah, while to-night is left us, - It should not fly in vain. - Come forth this once, lest fate decrees - We never meet again! - I wait, my heart’s adored one, - Beneath the moon’s bright beams. - Come--come, it is the hour that brings - The time for lovers’ dreams!” - -In after years, when John Dinsmore looked back at that moment, it -always seemed like a memory of a hideous nightmare, standing there with -Jess’ letter in his shaking hand; the letter in which she told him -that she, his wife, had eloped with a former lover. In that hour the -sympathy of Queenie seemed like balm to his bleeding heart. - -“Mr. Dinsmore,” she said, in that sweet, smooth, silvery voice of hers, -that had always had the power to thrill him to the heart’s core, “my -heart is bleeding for you. What can I say, what can I do to comfort -you?” - -He sank into the nearest seat, covering his face with his shaking -hands. Queenie advanced a step nearer, and her soft, white hands, cool -and white as lily leaves, fell on his bowed head lightly. - -“I know, I can understand how deeply your pride is wounded,” she went -on, hurriedly. “But instead of wasting one thought over her, you should -be rejoicing at getting rid of her so easily--remembering that her -action sets you free from the bond which galled you, leaves you free to -woo and wed one whom you can love. Do you not realize it? - -“She was never a fit companion for you,” continued Queenie, eagerly; -“you knew that. You should never have expected anything else from a -girl such as she was--a wild, gypsyish creature, without even a name -to face the world with. Of course she came from a source where her -parents dared not own her, and one should not be surprised that she has -developed evil tendencies; it is easy to surmise that they are bred -in the bone, and she acted upon them at the first opportunity which -presented. I predict that she will reach the lowest level that such a -low-born creature----” - -The sentence never was finished. With a bound John Dinsmore sprang to -his feet, his face white as death, his eyes blazing like coals of fire. - -“Stop, madam!” he cried, in a hoarse voice. “Not another word, I -command you. Remember it is my wife whom you are reviling so cruelly!” -and he towered before her, the incarnation of cold, stern, haughty -anger. - -For a moment only Queenie loses her self-possession, the next instant -her face is wreathed in a cruel sneer, as she answers, defiantly: - -“Am I mad, or do my ears deceive me? Are you really championing the -cause of the girl who has betrayed you so shamefully? made your name, -of which you were so proud, a byword for the sensational press when -they learn what has happened? Most men would resent her action with all -the pride in their natures, and despise her accordingly; being glad to -be rid of such a----” - -“Again I cry hold!” cut in John Dinsmore, in ringing, sonorous tones. -“I will not hear another disparaging word of the girl who bears my -name!” - -“I suppose that you will search for her, and when you have found her, -you will forgive her freak of mad folly, take her back to your heart -and home, and be happy ever afterward, as the story-books say.” - -“That is precisely my intention,” announced John Dinsmore, coolly, -and in a determined voice. “The fault was mine. I alone am to blame -for what has transpired. I wedded her, and instead of cherishing the -impulsive child as I should have done, I sent her from me--cast her out -a prey to just such vipers as the one who has crossed her path, and led -her from the right path. She was young, and craved and needed love and -protection, neither of which she received from me; the lesson I have -learned is a most bitter one. I will spend my life in trying to find -my little Jess, and when I have found her, I will atone to her for my -fatal mistake in sending her from me.” - -As Queenie listened, all in a moment the realization that he meant that -he would never be anything to herself swept with full force over her -heart. - -“John Dinsmore,” she cried, pantingly, “you must not search for her; -let her go where she will!” and with a flame of crimson rushing over -her face from chin to brow, she whispered: “If you will you shall have -me--and my love! Fate parted us two, who were intended for each other, -once before; let us not let her part us a second time!” - -“I am sorry to speak harshly to a lady,” he returned; “but you force -the words from my lips, and therefore you must hear them; and not only -hear, but heed them. - -“You can never be any more to me than you are at the present moment, -madam. I acknowledge that there was a time when such words as you have -just uttered would have filled me with the keenest rapture; but that -time has long since passed; for you no longer fill the remotest niche -in my heart. My love died for you long ago, and to-night my respect -goes with it; for the woman who would counsel me to turn from my wedded -wife, no matter what she has done, and find consolation with her, is -one whom I do not desire even to know.” - -As he uttered these words he strode from the room, leaving Queenie -staring after him, the very picture of a fiend incarnate, with her eyes -blazing like two coals of yellow fire, and her face and lips bloodless. - -“Foiled!” she shrieked. “Foiled! and I had set my heart and soul upon -winning him, and the way seemed so easy!” - -But one thought occurred to her; if it was indeed so, she would take a -terrible vengeance upon him, a vengeance that he would never forget, or -get over to his dying day. - -She made up her mind that she would strike at his heart through Jess, -for whom he was going to search the wide world over. - -“You may search, but you will never find her, John Dinsmore!” she -cried, hoarsely, beating her breast fiercely with her clinched hands. -“I will look to that. You are parted as truly as though the grave -yawned between you!” - -When she reached her boudoir, and a little later looked in at Jess, she -found her still lying in the same dead faint upon the floor. - -She bent over the girl, gazing long and bitterly at the lovely, -upturned young face, her eyes glowing luridly as she noted how perfect -was the loveliness of her every feature. - -“Yes, he has learned that he loves you, when it is too late!” she -muttered, catching her breath hard. “I will strike his heart through -you!” - -She was not long in maturing her plans; she set to work to revive -the girl without calling any of the servants to assist her in the -operation, believing what they did not know they could never repeat to -any one. - -Her labors were soon rewarded by seeing Jess open her large, dark eyes -slowly. - -“What is it, Queenie?” she murmured, vaguely; then, in the next breath, -before her companion could vouchsafe a reply, she cried bitterly: -“Oh, Father in Heaven, I remember all now--the awful intelligence you -brought me, that my darling husband, to whom I was to go to-morrow, -is dead--killed by an awful accident! Oh, God pity me, how can I ever -bear it? I had loved him so well, with all the strength of my heart and -soul!” - -To an enemy less relentless than the beautiful fiend who bent over her, -the ghastly change in the lovely young face, looking so appealingly up -into her own, would have drawn forth pity. - -If she had had her own way, she would have let the girl die then and -there of a broken heart; but that was not a part of the programme -she had laid out for herself. It seemed that she was not to win John -Dinsmore and his fortune, and her funds were running terribly low; the -only way that she knew of to gain a share of the Dinsmore millions, -which had slipped by her, was to aid Raymond Challoner to wed this -girl, Jess, just as soon as her grief was sufficiently assuaged to -allow her to be talked--even coerced--into it. - -What the outcome of the affair would be she did not know or care. They -would have a lively time recovering her share of the wealth, if the -nefarious scheme ever came to light. - -She resolved that it would never do to tell Raymond Challoner that -John Dinsmore was alive, and had been in New York; and, furthermore, -to acquaint him with the startling information that Jess had met and -wedded John Dinsmore under the name of Mr. Moore. - -She would keep all that from Raymond Challoner; what he did not know -would not worry him. - -And last, but by no means least, as soon as Jess was in a fit condition -to be prevailed upon by argument, or persuasion, to keep the past a -profound secret, and marry the man to whom she was engaged, to secure -the Dinsmore millions from going to waste, it should be accomplished. - -Queenie determined that if she could not wed John Dinsmore and secure -his fortune one way, it should be done in another manner. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV. THE WAYS OF PROVIDENCE. - - -There was another thing of which Queenie was equally convinced, and -that was that the safest place for Jess, for the present, was beneath -her own roof. John Dinsmore would, of course, never dream of looking -for her there. - -She knew full well that he would not come near her home, therefore, she -did not fear a meeting between Raymond Challoner and him. - -Queenie was not surprised when Raymond Challoner presented himself -at her home the following afternoon, impatient to know what progress -she was making with her arguments to induce Jess to reconsider her -dismissal of himself and his suit; and very anxious to have an -interview with the girl. - -“That will be impossible for the present,” declared Queenie; “for she -has worked herself up into a state bordering almost on hysteria; -indeed, she is so bad that I was obliged to call in a doctor to attend -her, and his instructions were that she must be kept perfectly quiet; -nothing whatever of an exciting nature must disturb her, or the result -would be a serious case of brain fever.” - -Raymond Challoner bit his lip with the most intense vexation. - -“By the eternal, luck seems to be working dead against me!” he cried. -“I am almost strapped as to cash--I must marry that confounded contrary -girl, and without delay, too, to secure that fortune. You know delays -are dangerous!” - -“Am I not equally as anxious? I am in the same position financially as -yourself; my funds are horribly low, and your marrying this girl, and -securing the Dinsmore fortune, which you have promised to divide with -me as compensation for my services, is everything I have to depend -upon; so why should I not expedite matters to the fullest extent of my -power?” she demanded. - -“With your woman’s wit, you ought to be able to arrange matters -somehow,” he persisted, doggedly. - -“I will do the very best I can; that is all that I can say,” she -responded, and he was obliged to let matters rest in that way. He took -a reluctant leave, with the understanding that he was not to call again -until he was sent for, which Queenie declared should be the first -moment in which she had Jess’ promise that she would see him. - -And Queenie meant what she said. For decency’s sake she allowed a week -to pass since she had informed Jess of her husband’s tragic death, ere -she put her scheme in motion. - -At the end of that week Queenie took the girl in hand. - -“This will never do, my dear,” she said. “You must take the punishment -which has been meted out to you meekly.” - -“Punishment!” echoed Jess, putting her dark curls back from her -tear-stained face with her little, trembling hands. “What have I ever -done to offend Heaven, that I should deserve punishment? That is the -wrong word for it, you meant affliction.” - -“I meant exactly what I said, my dear,” returned Queenie, softly. “It -is my firm belief that the Lord meant to punish you for flinging aside -so ruthlessly the solemn wishes of the dead!” she added, solemnly and -impressively. - -Jess looked up into her face with bewildered, tear-stained eyes, -murmuring faintly: - -“Still I do not comprehend.” - -“You certainly ought not to need me to refresh your memory in regard to -the fact that you were in solemn duty bound to wed him whom the man who -thought enough of you to leave half of his fortune to desired you to -marry.” - -“But I did not love him, Queenie,” sobbed the girl, piteously, “and I -did love the man whom I married. - -“Go where I would, his face was always before me; it smiled up at me -from the hearts of the flowers over which I bent, it looked at me from -the dancing waves of the rippling brook. I saw it framed in the fleecy -clouds when I looked up at the blue sky, and from the golden stars when -the night fell, shrouding the world in impenetrable darkness. - -“Oh, Queenie, I often wonder if any other girl in this whole wide world -has ever loved as fondly and as dearly as I loved the handsome, noble -gentleman to whom God seemed to consecrate me when I became his bride. -Ah, why should God punish me, and desire me to marry another when I -loved my husband as devotedly as that?” - -“God’s motives are not for us to question; it seems that He did,” -replied Queenie, tersely, adding, after a seemingly thoughtful pause: -“Do you know that I think His anger can only be assuaged by your -carrying out His design yet?” - -She knew by the bewildered look in Jess’ eyes that she did not in the -least comprehend the hint she had just given her. - -“I consider it my duty to speak plainly to you, Jess,” she said. “I -am quite sure that your husband was removed for the purpose of your -carrying out yet the provisions of that will.” - -“Oh, no, no, no!” cried the girl, wildly. “I would not marry the best -man that ever walked the earth; for me there is but one love, and -therefore but one husband!” - -“There is another matter to be considered,” said Queenie. “Do you want -to go out into the world penniless, and earn your own living, which you -surely must do if you persist in refusing the rich gifts the gods offer -you? It is a question which you must not decide rashly.” - -“I do not care for the Dinsmore millions!” sobbed the girl. “I can get -along without them. Please do not say any more to me on the subject, -Queenie, my poor heart is so sore.” - -“There is just one thing more that I must call your attention to, which -you seem to have forgotten entirely,” Queenie went on, pitilessly; “and -that is, even if you are perfectly indifferent in the matter, you still -should remember that in pursuing the course you persist in adopting, -you are not only injuring your own prospects, but you are consigning to -a life of misery and toil another, the man whom the elder Mr. Dinsmore -intended should enjoy half of his great fortune. - -“Think long and seriously, Jess, ere you consign one whose only fault -is loving you too well to a life of poverty and misery. It would be -better far to give your life up to the noble purpose of making another -happy, even though your heart is not in what you do. - -“In a fortnight he will come here to see you, and will ask for your -final answer. I repeat, think long and earnestly ere you say him nay. -He need never know what took place while you were at the farm those -few weeks. In fact, I would counsel that you keep it carefully from -his knowledge. Let that part of your book of life be a sealed chapter, -which no human eyes may scan. Why tell him, and make him miserable, -when silence is wisest and best, since it tends to his contentment and -peace of mind for all time? - -“I leave you to think it over carefully, Jess. Surely you are too noble -to consign the one who loves you so well to the bitterest of poverty. -He does not know how to cope with it; he has always looked upon the -Dinsmore fortune as his, some day; therefore he is not equipped to -fight for his daily bread during the remainder of his life. If life -and love are all over for you, consecrate your future to doing good -deeds, and surely this is one.” - -So saying, she left the girl to her own pitiful reflections. Can it be -wondered at, by dint of constantly holding this aspect of the case up -before the girl’s troubled eyes, that slowly but surely she began to -influence the girl, who was scarcely more than a child in her ideas, -that it was her duty to sacrifice herself to save the man who was -co-heir to Blackheath Hall from a life of poverty. - -It was with many bitter tears that at length Jess sobbed out that she -would do exactly what Queenie advised. Life, hope and love were all -over for her, it did not matter much what her future was. - -“Your lover of the old days will be here to-morrow,” announced Queenie, -at length, “and shall I make his heart glad by telling him that you -relent, and that matters will be between you as they were when you were -down on the plantation in Louisiana; that you will meet him as your -affianced husband?” - -Jess covered her face with her two little hands, which shook like aspen -leaves, and nodded dumbly. She could not have said “yes” to have saved -her life; she tried to utter the word, but it stuck in her throat and -choked her. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV. NAMING THE DAY. - - -Raymond Challoner lost no time in acting upon Queenie’s advice. The -very next afternoon he presented himself at her home, and Queenie -herself went to fetch Jess at once. - -“How shall I ever go down to the drawing-room to see him!” cried Jess, -distractedly, as she clung to her false friend with death-cold hands; -“if he speaks to me of love, or marriage, I am sure I shall fall in a -swoon at his feet.” - -“That is not being brave,” retorted Queenie, impatiently, “you promised -me faithfully that you would put the past from you, and try to believe -that it was but a dream; this is not carrying out your word.” - -Jess straightened herself up with apparent difficulty, the awful pallor -still upon her face. How she made her way down the stairway, she never -afterward quite remembered, so strong was the feeling within her that -she would swoon with each step. - -Raymond Challoner advanced to greet her in his jaunty, inimitable, -graceful manner. - -“Little Jess!” he cried, holding out both hands in greeting, “words -fail to express to you how glad I am to see you.” - -Her white lips parted, and her large, dark, startled eyes looked away -from the eager blue ones in much trepidation. She murmured some faint -words which he could not quite catch. - -“Why, how changed you are, little Jess!” he cried, holding her off -at arm’s length and looking in puzzled wonder down at her fair, -marvelously beautiful face. “New York and the society of our mutual -friend Queenie seem to have metamorphosed you completely. You left me -a romp of a girl, I find you a woman; there is something in your eyes, -in your face, that I have never seen there before, and I am puzzled to -know what it is.” - -He saw her flush and then turn deadly pale under his keen, searching -scrutiny. - -“You are a thousand times more beautiful, and therefore more lovable -than when we last met,” he cried, enthusiastically. “I regretted from -the bottom of my heart that they had let you slip off to New York -without my knowledge, or approval, but I am obliged to confess that it -has done wonders for you, my Jess--wonders.” - -“How could you leave me in that reckless fashion?” he went on, -reproachfully. “You struck a cruel blow at my heart by doing so, and a -still more cruel blow when you wrote me that you intended to break our -engagement. Why, little girl, I was sick for weeks from the effects of -it, praying to die, I fought bitterly against allowing them to cure me; -that will show you how completely I was wrapped up in your sweet self. - -“The bitterest drop in my cup of woe was that they would not tell me -where you had gone, in accordance with some foolish promise given. It -seemed like a stroke of fate that I should come to New York, and in -coming to visit an old friend stumble directly into the house where you -were visiting. Do you not agree with me that it was indeed fate? If it -had not been intended that we should be reunited, I would not have been -able to discover where my pearl had hidden herself. - -“But, dear me, come and sit down in this sunshiny bay window, my little -Jess, that I may have a better look at my newly recovered treasure; you -are now so royally, regally beautiful, that I can scarcely believe you -are one and the same little Jess whom I met in the wilds of Louisiana -that eventful September morning, which seems long months ago, though it -is in reality not so very long ago.” - -During the call, which seemed long and tedious to Jess, who was -wondering if he would never, never go, her companion did all the -talking, the girl barely answering in monosyllables, but he attributed -this to bashfulness, though that was a trait in her character that he -had not discovered during his brief sojourn at Blackheath Hall. - -“With your permission, Jess,” he said at length, “I should like to talk -about our wedding; when shall it take place, my own love?” - -“Oh, I don’t know!” cried the girl, distractedly, “do not mention it -to me--until the very last moment--and let it be as far off as you -possibly can.” - -His brow darkened. - -“That is not a very kind speech, Jess,” he remarked, with considerable -pique, “and does not speak very well for the depths of love you shall -bear the man to whom you have plighted your troth.” - -She looked up at him appealingly. It seemed to her if he uttered -another word on the subject she would go mad. How could she listen to -words of love or marriage from another’s lips when her heart lay buried -in the grave of the man she had loved so passionately, with all the -strength of her nature? - -But she knew if she made the sacrifice which Queenie had impressed upon -her was her solemn duty, she must make no outcry, utter no word of -protestation against the marriage, or when it was to take place. - -“I know that you spoke in jest, my sweetheart,” Ray Challoner went on, -smoothly, “to think otherwise would be to drive me mad, my heart is so -entirely yours.” - -“Forgive me,” answered Jess, bravely, choking down a great sob that -threatened to break forth and betray the state of her feelings. - -She listened like one in a far-off troubled dream while he talked to -her of his plans for the future, and ended by praying her to name the -day when he should claim her as his own. - -“I--do not know,” murmured the girl, wearily; “I--I will leave -everything to you, Mr. Dinsmore,” and if he had not been so jubilant -over the victory and the fortune so near his grasp, he would have -noticed the suspicion of tears in her lovely, dark, mournful, -despairing eyes. - -“Then I say, let it take place at once, my own,” he declared, “the -sooner the better, say a week from to-day!” - -Jess shuddered, as with a sudden chill, but she kept control of her -nerves by a great effort. He must not see how obnoxious the very -thought of marriage with him was to her. - -She wondered vaguely how she was to pass the rest of her life with him -when she found a few hours so intolerable as to almost drive her mad. - -“Your silence gives sweet consent, my own charming little bride to be,” -he cried, exultantly, and it was with difficulty that he restrained -himself from embracing her then and there. - -He took his leave soon after with that matter settled completely to his -satisfaction, the ceremony was to be performed just a week from that -day. He would have named the morrow, but that he was sure Jess would be -suspicious that there was something wrong in his intense eagerness to -claim her. Of all things he must avoid raising her suspicions. - -He was anxious to get away from her, and celebrate his victory over the -outcome of his desperate and daring plan for a fortune, by indulging in -as much champagne as he could stand, for once in his life; for there -would soon be an end to reckless indulgence, at least for a time. -Until the Dinsmore fortune was within his grasp, and he had turned it -into cash, he would be obliged to play the part of a model husband. - -“She is a thousand times more beautiful than ever,” he muttered, as he -walked briskly down the avenue, “but her every action shows me that -she abhors me, simply that and nothing else. And because of that, I -feel the demon that is in me rising to the surface. I hate her for her -coldness toward me and her pride, which will ever be an insurmountable -barrier between us. I will marry you, my proud, haughty Jess, and after -the knot is tied which makes me your lord and master, I will set my -heel upon your white neck, crush that heart of yours, without mercy, -and make life itself a torture to you. I will take a glorious revenge -upon you for all the indignities you have heaped upon me, I promise you -that.” - -Finding himself opposite a fashionable café he entered it, and soon -finished the bottle of champagne they brought him, another bottle was -as quickly dispatched; and in the best of humor with himself and the -world, he began to look about him, as to who made up the fashionable -throng filing into the place, in hopes that he might discover some boon -companion of other days, who would share with him another bottle of the -shining, sparkling beverage which had already gone to his brain. - -He was getting jovial, and that was the danger signal which should have -warned Raymond Challoner to desist then and there from indulging in any -more of his dearest foe--sparkling champagne. Already he had begun to -see two waiters filling his glass instead of one. - -“Not a soul I know in the entire room,” he muttered, staring around -disconsolately, “now that is annoying; I would like some one to keep me -company.” - -Suddenly his attention was drawn to a gentleman who, with two -companions, was watching him furtively from a convenient point across -the room. - -“Wonder where I have seen that face!” muttered Challoner, “can’t think -to save my neck.” - -His memory refused to aid him. - -The gentleman was--John Dinsmore. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI. OLD FRIENDS MEET. - - -When John Dinsmore had left the home of Queenie, after learning of the -supposed flight of Jess, his bride, his avowed intention was to shake -the dust of New York from his feet forever, and to wander on the face -of the earth until he should find her whom he had learned, all too -late, was dearer to him than his very heart’s blood. - -So intent was he upon his own bitter, despairing thoughts, he failed -to notice the two young men who had stopped short at sight of him, -astonishment and delight depicted on their faces. He would have passed -them by unheeded, they both saw, and with one accord, each sprang -forward, laying a detaining hand on his shoulders, which brought him to -an unceremonious standstill. - -“John Dinsmore, and in the flesh, by all that is wonderful!” they -cried, simultaneously. - -With an exclamation of joy Dinsmore drew back and looked into the faces -of his two devoted friends, Jerry Gaines and Ballou, the artist. And -John was certainly as much overjoyed to see them as they were to once -more behold him. - -“I almost imagine I shall wake up on the morrow and find this encounter -but a wild delusion of the overwrought brain, as you novelists put it,” -laughed Gaines, with tears in his blue eyes as he still continued to -wring John’s hand, “but come into this restaurant around the corner, -and we will have a rousing reunion, and you shall tell us what you have -been doing with yourself, and why you allowed your tried and true old -friends to spend so much grief over you, mourning you as dead.” - -“Yes,” said Ballou; “you must come, John; it is not possible that you -are contemplating refusing Jerry’s request. We must get somewhere out -of the teeth of this howling storm. I don’t possess fur-lined garments, -consequently it is going through me like a knife. Are you with us?” - -“As you will, boys,” replied John Dinsmore, and they proceeded at once -to the place designated, a restaurant where the “Trinity” had been in -the habit of dining in the past, and where Gaines and Ballou still came -to get the most for their spare change. - -“It is my turn to pay the bill to-night,” said John, the first smile -that his face had known for months lighting up his grave face. “You -remember the day I left New York last--it would have been my turn to -put up for the spread.” - -“Not so, my boy,” laughed Gaines. “I have had a streak of luck to-day, -and I insist upon paying the bill. If you feel so very liberal, you -shall do the pretty act to-morrow night.” - -It was during the meal that John Dinsmore recounted to his two old -friends all that had taken place since the memorable day they packed -his valise for him, and sent him South, from Newport, with the double -object of regaining his health and looking at the little Louisiana -heiress at Blackheath Hall. - -“Why, your meeting the little Jess, after all, and marrying her out of -hand, without going near Blackheath Hall, and she not dreaming of your -real identity, sounds like a chapter from a novel. By George! what a -capital story it would make!” - -“The climax to it is quite unsavory, though,” replied John Dinsmore, -and in answer to the looks of astonishment on his companions’ faces, he -drew forth the letter from his breast pocket, into which he had crushed -it, and in a low, husky voice read its contents slowly aloud to them. - -“Eloped with an old lover!” echoed Ballou, amazedly, while Jerry Gaines -asked in a tone which he strove not to appear excited: “What was the -address you read, of the house where she was visiting, John?” - -He re-read the address, giving the street and number. - -Both Gaines and Ballou turned and looked at each other fixedly. - -“Isn’t that the address of the young widow who married the supposedly -rich old miser Brown for his millions, and got beautifully left for -her pains--finding herself next door to a pauper on the reading of the -will?” - -“It appears so,” replied Gaines, knitting his brows in deep thought, -then suddenly he leaned over and touched Ballou on the arm, saying: - -“Do you know I have a very odd idea? You remember the young fellow whom -we afterward recognized as he was coming out of that house, just as we -were about to enter to learn the particulars of that will, and get a -chance to talk with and sketch the beautiful young widow?” - -“Yes; I have every reason to remember him,” nodded Ballou, in a -peculiar voice, adding: “Well, what of him?” - -“I believe that he is the infernal scoundrel who has eloped with John’s -little bride--for the reason that I went past the place the following -afternoon, and saw him at the drawing-room window talking to just such -a young girl as I now remember little Jess to be from the picture she -sent to John while he lay ill at Newport, and which we saw.” - -“You know the villain!” exclaimed John, springing from his seat -trembling with excitement. “For Heaven’s sake tell me, and quickly, who -he is, that I may follow him and shoot him down like the cur that he -is, or rather pit my life against his to wipe out this stain with which -he has dared to smirch the honor of my name.” - -“Give me until to-morrow this time to locate him and find whether I -am right or wrong, John,” asked Jerry Gaines. “This is a matter into -which no man can rush headlong. I will find out beyond a doubt if my -suspicions be true. If they are, you shall be put on his track, and -when you meet him, you shall deal with him as you see best. Is that -satisfactory?” - -“I suppose it must be, if you say so,” replied John Dinsmore, sinking -back into his chair, his face ghastly pale, every nerve in his entire -body quivering with the deep agitation he was undergoing. - -His two friends prevailed upon him to remain in New York a week at -least, pending their investigation, and to go to the old humble room -which he used to share with them in the days when money was at a -premium with him. - -The next morning his two tried and true friends parted early from him, -arranging to meet him at the same hour, and at the same restaurant, -suggesting that they might have something of importance to communicate. - -To John Dinsmore it seemed as though six o’clock, the hour appointed, -would never come; he spent the time in walking up and down the streets, -vainly searching for Jess, even in the face of the fact that her letter -had said that she intended going far away from the metropolis. - -Never before had he realized how intensely he loved little Jess, and -what a blank his life would be without her. - -And then and there it occurred to him how utterly devoid of good -judgment he must have been in those days to allow himself to be carried -away with so shallow and utterly false and heartless a creature as -Queenie Trevalyn, whom he now abhorred, and whom he knew as she really -was--at last. - -He said to himself that sometimes God blesses us in denying us that -which we believe our greatest good, but which would only have turned -out to be our greatest misfortune. - -All that day the two friends, spurred on by John Dinsmore’s recital, -worked zealously over the plan which they had mapped out for themselves -to discover the whereabouts of Jess, the fair young bride. - -On the occasion of their former visit to the house of the old miser’s -widow, the young artist had made quite a favorable impression upon -one of the maids of the household; they decided to make use of that -state of affairs now. And under pretext that the paper wanted another -statement of the facts, they again presented themselves at the home of -young Mrs. Brown. - -To their relief that lady was out; but that did not prevent them from -lingering and having nearly an hour’s chat with the loquacious maid. - -A few ingenious remarks led the conversation around to the beautiful -young girl, who had until so lately been a guest beneath that roof, as -they phrased it. - -“Gone from here!” echoed the girl. “Why, it is strange that I did not -hear something of it; still, it may be, as I have been away--calling -upon a sick relative--since late yesterday afternoon. I just came back -less than ten minutes before you came. I had not even had time to take -my bonnet upstairs when you rang the bell.” - -Jerry Gaines was for not prolonging the interview, though they had -gleaned many startling facts from this casual conversation, but -something seemed to impel the young artist to question her still -further on the subject of the beautiful stranger guest of young Mrs. -Brown--if she had a lover, and if he ever called, and how often? - -It was then that a remark fell from the maid’s lips that caused both -of them to start violently, and to exchange covert glances of dismay -with each other, taking great care that the maid should not notice this -secret telegraphing between them. - -When there was absolutely nothing more to learn, they took their leave, -promising to call again soon; but the next time it should not be upon -business, but upon her fair self. - -When the two friends got around the first corner they stopped -short--gazing long and fixedly into each other’s eyes. - -“It will never do to disclose what we have learned to John Dinsmore -to-night,” said Jerry Gaines, huskily, and in this opinion Ballou -heartily concurred. - -“No, it will be best to await developments on the morrow,” he declared. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII. A MOMENT OF TERROR. - - -The first question that John Dinsmore asked of them, when they met -at the restaurant an hour later, was what success they had met with, -adding that he could hardly contain himself and control his nerves, his -anxiety was so intense. - -“Rome was not built in a day, my dear fellow,” responded Ballou, -adding: “By this time to-morrow we hope to answer you more -satisfactorily.” - -“You mean to say that you have found trace of her?” cried John -Dinsmore. “Do not keep me in suspense, tell me at once.” - -“On or before this time to-morrow, we hope to bring you face to face -with your little Jess--mind, I use the word ‘hope.’ That must suffice -for the present, my boy,” repeated Ballou. - -Just as Dinsmore was about to make a response, his attention was -attracted by a young man who had just entered, and who had deposited -himself in a seat at an opposite table. - -One glance at his face, and John Dinsmore recognized him instantly as -Raymond Challoner, his foe of those other days, when they had fought -that duel for the favor of fair, false, fickle Queenie Trevalyn. - -As Challoner’s eyes met his own, John Dinsmore saw there was no gleam -of recognition in them. Raymond Challoner did not know him, and he was -quite as well satisfied with this turn of affairs. - -Following the direction of their friend’s earnest gaze, both the artist -and the reporter beheld Raymond Challoner at the selfsame moment. - -“It must be that fate is playing directly into our hands!” whispered -Jerry Gaines to Ballou, when John Dinsmore’s attention was directed in -another direction. - -John had noticed that his two friends recognized Challoner; but, save -a meaning half smile, he took no other notice of the other’s near -presence, and was glad that they seemed to ignore him. - -Underneath their nonchalant manner, both Jerry Gaines and Ballou were -intensely excited; and when Raymond Challoner arose to quit the place, -some half an hour or so later, Gaines made a hurried excuse to leave -his two friends, and passed out hurriedly in Challoner’s wake; and -Ballou was thankful that John Dinsmore had not the slightest suspicion -that there was anything on foot in that direction. - -At that selfsame hour, little Jess was sobbing her heart out in -Queenie’s boudoir. - -She had promised to wed the man who represented himself to her to be -John Dinsmore on the morrow--ay, had promised to link her fate for weal -or for woe with a man whom she detested more and more each time she saw -him. - -“If it were not a sin for which God would never, never forgive me, I -would end it all by taking my life here and now!” she moaned, clinching -her hands together so tightly that the pink nails cut the tender flesh; -but the pain in her heart was so severe, she never even felt the pain -of the self-inflicted wound. - -Queenie was purposely keeping out of her way, for she did not care to -go over the ground that the marriage-to-be was all wrong--“all wrong -and terrible,” as Jess would pitifully express it. She had given her -consent, that was enough for Queenie; she never stopped to ask herself -how it was to end. - -By this marriage, Raymond Challoner, masquerading under the name of -John Dinsmore, would gain possession of the Dinsmore millions, would -turn them into cash within a week’s time, and hand her over her share -of the cash for her share in bringing the marvelously daring scheme -about. Further than this she did not care to look. - -Of course, there would be a terrible reckoning between the real and -the false heir, when the former turned up; but Queenie was content to -let them fight it out as they saw fit, as long as she had her share of -the money. She would go abroad, and in the mad whirl of Parisian life -would try to drown her fatal love for John Dinsmore, who had flung her -proffered love back into her face with such scorn. - -By parting him effectually from the girl he loved, and bringing the -girl within prison walls on the grave charge of bigamy, when at last -he should find her, was revenge enough for even as sinister an arch -plotter as herself. - -She realized that there would be a stormy scene between Challoner and -herself on account of her not telling him of the sudden appearance of -John Dinsmore, whom he confidently believed dead, and therefore out of -his way; and, most of all, that he had a legal claim upon the little -heiress of Blackheath Hall. - -She had not even a spark of pity in her hardened heart for the wretched -young girl who was weeping her eyes out in her boudoir upstairs. She -gloated, rather, over the misery of the girl who had won the love of -the only man on earth whom she would ever care for. - -“Let her cry!” muttered Queenie, hoarsely, as she paced up and down; -“all the grief she could know in a lifetime could not equal the -poignant misery I endured in the one moment John Dinsmore spurned me -from him, declaring that he would not divorce that girl and wed me for -all the wealth of the Indies--ay, to save his life, even, if it came -to that. Some day he shall learn that it was my hand that shaped this -affair, and brought the matter to a climax, and then he may, perhaps, -recall the lines of the poet who has said--and, ah, how truly: - - “‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!’” - -Queenie did not seek her boudoir until a late hour, feeling sure that -Jess would not be there by that time, a surmise which proved to be -quite correct. The poor child had gone slowly to her own apartment, -feeling wretched beyond words, and yet the morrow would usher in her -wedding day. - -She threw herself upon her couch, just as she was, and thus she passed -the dreariest hours she had ever known. She wished that the morrow -would never dawn, and then, worn out with intense grief, she finally -fell into a deep and troubled sleep. - -She dreamed she was roaming through the meadows fragrant with odorous -blossoms, by the side of him whom she loved; she stepped across a -tiny thread of a purling brook to gather blossoms which grew upon the -other side of it, when suddenly the little stream widened between -them, becoming a mighty cataract of water, a roaring river, which no -one could ford; and they were driven farther and farther asunder by -the oncoming waters, until they were lost to each other’s sight in the -darkness of the night which fell about them. - -And, holding out her arms, and calling upon his name with mighty, -piercing cries, which should have rent the very vault of heaven which -bent above her, Jess awoke, to find the maid standing beside her couch, -with uplifted hands and an expression of horror on her face. - -“What! seek your couch like this!” the girl was exclaiming, in -amazement. “Oh, miss, why did you not call me to aid you, if you were -too tired to disrobe? And this your wedding day! Why, you look worn -out! Let me fetch you a cup of coffee, and help you to arrange your -toilet. Why, your hands are as cold as the snow outside! Are you ill?” - -Jess looked up at her with her great, dark, troubled eyes. - -“Yes--no!” she muttered, incoherently. - -“Do let me help you, miss!” entreated the maid. “Do not send me from -you; you actually look as though you were going to have a spell of -sickness. It is time to dress for the ceremony--that is the message of -my mistress sent me to tell you. You will have barely time to eat your -breakfast and get into your wedding gown ere the bridegroom and the -coach will be at the door.” - -“I wish it were for the grave that I am about to robe myself,” thought -Jess; but she said no more to the maid, who insisted on remaining with -her and assisting her. - -Jess pushed away the tempting little repast of bird on toast, fresh -rolls, fruit and fragrant coffee which was set before her; she could -not eat a morsel, or swallow a drop had her very life depended upon it. - -“Take it away, Marie,” she said. “It seems as though I could never eat -anything again.” - -“What a wonderful thing love is, when it makes a girl feel like -that--nervous and all broken up--on her wedding day,” mused the maid, -wondering when the handsome young artist and his pleasant companion -would make good their promise to call. One thing she had noticed and -thought long and earnestly about, and that was that they only cared to -linger while she was talking to them about her mistress’ guest, Miss -Jess; when she persisted in changing the conversation, they had taken -sudden leave. - -“Everybody who sees her goes wild over her beauty,” mused the maid, -gazing at the girl sitting before her, with eyes that were certainly -jealous ones, “and, somehow, I shall be very glad when she marries -and goes away from here. Who knows but what my two new friends were -enamored of her, too? The more I come to look back over their questions -and words, the more it looks like that to me.” - -She had little time to follow up the train of her reflections, however, -for time was fleeting. It wanted but fifteen minutes now to the time -when the handsome, fair-haired gentleman whom Jess was to wed would -come for her. - -“Ah, here he is now!” she exclaimed, as the sound of a peal at the -front doorbell fell upon her ear. - -An instant later Jess recognized the voice of her bridegroom-to-be in -the lower corridor, and at that instant Queenie, gowned and bonneted, -fluttered into the room, exclaiming: - -“All is in readiness, Jess, except yourself. Hurry, my love. It is -unlucky to delay the marriage ceremony a moment beyond the appointed -time.” - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII. WHAT IS TO BE WILL BE. - - -Jess looked helplessly at her false friend. - -“If the wedding must take place, I--I am ready!” she answered, in a -low voice, which threatened to break into sobs ere she finished the -sentence. - -“Come along, then, my dear,” returned Queenie, ignoring the first part -of the remark. “Your bridegroom-to-be is most impatient; I can hear him -pacing up and down the drawing-room.” - -Jess allowed Queenie to wrap the long fur cloak about her, and lead her -down to the corridor below. - -“Do not let him come near me, or touch my hand, or I shall surely -faint!” whispered Jess, hoarsely, as she shrank behind Queenie. - -The latter bit her lips fiercely, to keep back the sneering retort that -sprang to them. She concluded, however, that discretion was the better -part of valor, and that it would not do to seem to go against her, lest -Jess should refuse to allow the marriage to take place at all, and -thus upset all of their well-laid plans and her own hope of getting a -good slice of the Dinsmore inheritance. - -Low as Jess had uttered the words, Raymond Challoner’s quick ear had -caught the words distinctly, and he crushed back an imprecation most -fierce behind his white teeth. - -“Ye gods! how the girl detests me!” he thought; “and by the Eternal, -I’ll give her good cause to do so before I am through with her. She is -expecting me to rush up and embrace her, while I feel more like making -her ears tingle with a thorough boxing. I have no patience whatever -with that kind of a girl--they arouse all the hatred and antagonism in -my nature. When we turn from the altar, I will show her who is lord and -master, confound her!” - -But the suave, graceful manner in which he came forward, with his -inimitable bow and smile, gave no warning of what was passing in his -treacherous heart. - -“Jess,” he murmured, making not the slightest attempt to offer her a -caress, but simply offering her his arm, “this is the happiest day of -my life. Come, the carriage is in waiting.” - -Out into the bitter cold air he led her, and adown the marble steps, -from which every vestige of the snow had been brushed away. - -The drive to the church seemed like a dream to the girl. Queenie -sat beside her, and the man whom she was to wed sat opposite. No -attempt was made to keep up a conversation. Raymond Challoner was -congratulating himself that he had reached the point where it was quite -unnecessary. - -The church was quickly reached, and the bridal party hastily entered. - -“How bitter cold it is in here!” exclaimed the bridegroom-to-be, in -an angry tone of voice, addressing the remark to Queenie, whom he had -intrusted with the making of the hurried arrangements. “They might have -had some semblance of a fire, heating up this old barn of a place. And -then, again, there are half a score of people sitting about, while I -ordered it to be strictly private.” - -“No doubt they are the caretakers; you cannot prevent them from -entering if they choose,” returned Queenie, indifferently. - -It did not attract the particular attention of the bridegroom-to-be -that all of the men present wore their coats turned high up around -their necks, and their hats pulled well down over their faces, for -he would have considered it only the usual precaution to fortify -themselves against the bitter cold which permeated the edifice in great -draughts. - -They need have little fear of being recognized, for the light that -flickered in through the stained-glass windows was unusually dim on -this day, which had been ushered in so dark and dismal, with leaden -skies, over which black, ominous stormclouds scudded. - -“There isn’t even the sign of a minister to greet us! I hope there is -to be no hitch over this affair,” he remarked to Queenie, his brows -darkening perceptibly. - -“He is in the pulpit, awaiting our coming; he has just entered by the -side door yonder,” Queenie replied. - -Jess uttered no word; she was trembling like a veritable aspen leaf; -whether it was from cold, or fear, or both, Raymond Challoner could not -determine, nor did he trouble himself to inquire. - -It ever afterward seemed like a weird dream to Jess, whether she walked -or was carried down the long, dark, cold aisle, until at length she -found herself in front of the altar, where the minister stood, with his -open book in his hand. - -She felt as though she must turn and fly from the place, her fear was -so great; but this, she feared, would be hard to accomplish, with her -bridegroom on one side of her and Queenie on the other. In that moment -it struck her as an evil omen that Queenie should have accompanied her -to the altar, draped in crape and mourning attire. - -She had little time to think of this, however, for the marriage -ceremony had already begun, and the man beside her was repeating after -the minister: - -“I, John Dinsmore, do take thee, Jess, to be my lawful, wedded wife, to -have and to hold, to cherish----” - -The sentence never was finished. Up from a nearby pew sprang a tall -form, and with swinging strides he came down the aisle toward the -altar, crying, in a deep, sonorous voice, that struck terror to two of -those hearts before the altar: - -“Hold! Let not this ceremony proceed! I forbid the banns!” - -As he spoke, he threw back the collar of his coat, and took off his hat. - -There was a piercing cry of joy, and in an instant Jess had sprung from -the side of the man at the altar and into the arms of the tall stranger. - -“What is the meaning of this, sir?” cried the good minister, staring in -bewildered amazement from the one to the other. - -“It looks, parson, as though the game were up, and that the marriage is -off, and that a more formidable game is on!” exclaimed Ray, hoarsely, -as he beheld a brace of officers making for the spot where he stood, -while as many more guarded each aisle, cutting off every avenue of -escape. - -“I did not have quite time enough to carry out my ingenious scheme,” he -added, quickly, “or I should have been far away from here by this time; -anyhow, I shall not give the real John Dinsmore, as he is waiting to -proclaim himself, the joy and the fortune he is looking forward to. He -shall take a trip with me!” - -As he spoke, ere any one could spring forward to prevent the action, -he pulled a small, silver-mounted revolver from his breast pocket, and -pointing it at John Dinsmore, fired quickly. A second shot followed -in less time than it takes to record it, and the second time the -instrument of death was pointed against his own heart. - -For the next few moments all was confusion: in the _mêlée_ Jess had -fainted, and Queenie, taking in all the situation at a glance, fled -ignominiously from the scene, no one attempting to bar her exit, as it -was understood by all present that this would probably be the course -she would pursue. - -When the smoke had cleared away, it was found that John Dinsmore was -uninjured; for once the practiced hand of Raymond Challoner had fired -wide of its mark. In Challoner’s own case, the result was fatal. He -had met death instantly, with that sneering laugh yet lingering on his -lips. - -To the bewildered minister they explained all in a few words--the -dastardly scheme the dead man and the woman who had just left the -edifice had planned and almost executed, to rob the gentleman who -stood, pale and anxiously bending over Jess, of name, wife and fortune; -how his tried and true two friends had learned, through the young -widow’s maid, of the marriage which was about to take place at that -hour between her mistress’ pretty, young guest and the young man whom -they had met emerging from the house on a former visit, and that his -name was John Dinsmore. Of how fate played into their hands, when they -began their search for him, by meeting in the restaurant, after which -they had not lost sight of him for a moment. And, furthermore, that his -death brought to an untimely end the business of the officers of the -law, who had trailed him down by the triangular diamond ring he wore; -and who were there to arrest him for a murder done at Saratoga some -months before, and for which he would have had to pay the penalty with -his life, for his guilt was assured. - -Ere Jess returned to consciousness, John Dinsmore had her conveyed to a -nearby hotel, and here she found herself when her thoughts became clear -and her dark eyes opened to life again. She almost believed it to be a -wild, delusive dream to behold him whom she loved so well--not dead, -but kneeling beside her, holding her hands, and calling upon her name -by every sweet word in love’s vocabulary. - -One instant more and she was in his arms, her head pillowed on John -Dinsmore’s sturdy breast. That was their joyful reunion; and clasped -thus, heart to heart, mutual explanations followed. And to Jess, the -most amazing of them all was that fate had had her own way, in spite -of her willfulness, in wedding her to John Dinsmore, the co-heir of -Blackheath Hall, after all. - -Her husband would not allow her to talk of that scene at the church. -All he would say was: - -“Raymond Challoner--that was his real name--is dead; you must forget -that you ever knew him, and you must also forget that false friend, -Queenie, who would have lured you to a fate worse than death if I had -not come in the nick of time to frustrate her designs. She kept from me -the knowledge that Raymond Challoner was attempting to palm himself off -for me and gain the Dinsmore fortune by marrying you.” - -He was even more amazed at her crafty villainy when Jess whispered to -him that she had made a confidant of Queenie, telling her of her former -marriage, and how Queenie had informed her of her husband’s death -through an accident, which she was too ignorant of the world’s ways to -inquire into. - -“Let us think of the arch plotters no more, my darling!” declared John -Dinsmore, fondly clasping his beautiful, little bride the more closely -in his arms, and covering her lovely, blushing, dimpled face with -passionate kisses, while her white arms clung more tightly around his -neck. - -Never were two men more happy than were Jerry Gaines and Hazard Ballou -over the happy ending of John Dinsmore’s trials and tribulations, and -the joy he entered into at last, in being reunited with the bride he -loved better than his own life. - -“I shall never know how to do enough for you hereafter, boys!” he -exclaimed that evening, holding the hands of each, while tears which -were no disgrace to his noble manhood stood in his eyes. - -“I am going to make you both acknowledge my true friendship in a very -practical way. When I receive my share of the Dinsmore millions I -am going to buy out a New York paper, and take you both in as equal -partners.” - -“Do you mean as artist and reporter, as we have been for years?” -laughed Ballou. - -“As equal partners in the enterprise,” repeated John, slowly and -emphatically; and the day came, soon after, in which he kept his word; -and to-day “The Trinity,” as they are still called, own and publish one -of the most successful of all the great dailies in the great metropolis. - -They are both constant visitors at John’s happy home, and at the end of -John’s first happy year of married life, when the twin boys came, he -named them after his tried and true friends, Jerry Gaines Dinsmore and -Hazard Ballou Dinsmore, much to their delight. The handsome artist is -still a bachelor, but at the end of the first year after John married, -Jerry Gaines took to himself a bride. Guess who she was, reader mine? -No less a person than Lucy Caldwell, the farmer’s daughter, whom he met -while she was on a visit to Jess. - -Queenie, the dashing, young widow, soon after wedded another aged man -for his wealth, but she was not a happy woman, because, as she often -said to herself, through her fickleness she had missed the one joy that -makes life worth living--love. - -She lived and died envying Jess, and the great love her husband -lavished upon her, to the end of her life. And the only time her proud -eyes ever shed a tear was when the thought crossed her mind: - -“It might have been!” - -THE END. - - * * * * * - -... _The_ ... Eagle Series _of_ Popular Fiction - -PRINCIPALLY COPYRIGHTS - -ELEGANT COLORED COVERS - -This is the pioneer line of copyright novels. Its popularity has -increased with every number, until, at the present time, it stands -unrivalled as regards sales and contents. - -It is composed, mainly, of popular copyrighted titles which cannot be -had in any other lines, at any price. The authors, as far as literary -ability and reputation are concerned, represent the foremost men and -women of their time. The books, without exception, are of entrancing -interest and manifestly those most desired by the American reading -public. A purchase of two or three of these books, at random, will make -you a firm believer that there is no line of novels which can compare -favorably with the Eagle Series. - - 327--Was She Wife or Widow? By Malcolm Bell. - 326--Parted by Fate By Laura Jean Libbey. - =325--The Leighton Homestead (Double - Number)= =By Mary J. Holmes=. - 324--A Love Match By Sylvanus Cobb. - 323--The Little Countess By S. E. Boggs. - 322--Mildred By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes. - =321--Neva’s Three Lovers (Double - Number)= =By Mrs. Harriett Lewis=. - 320--Mynheer Joe By St. George Rathborne. - 319--Millbank By Mary J. Holmes. - 318--Staunch of Heart By Charles Garvice. - 317--Ione By Laura Jean Libbey. - =316--Edith Lyle’s Secret (Double - Number) ==By Mary J. Holmes=. - 315--The Dark Secret By May Agnes Fleming. - 314--A Maid’s Fatal Love By Helen Corwin Pierce. - 313--A Kinsman’s Sin By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 312--Woven on Fate’s Loom By Charles Garvice. - =311--Wedded by Fate (Double Number)= =By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon=. - 310--A Late Repentance By Mary A. Denison. - 309--The Heiress of Castle Cliffe By May Agnes Fleming. - 308--Lady Ryhope’s Lover By Emma Garrison Jones. - 307--The Winning of Isolde By St. George Rathborne. - 306--Love’s Golden Rule By Geraldine Fleming. - 305--Led By Love By Charles Garvice. - 304--Staunch as a Woman By Charles Garvice. - 303--The Queen of the Isle By May Agnes Fleming. - 302--When Man’s Love Fades By Hazel Wood. - 301--The False and the True By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 300--The Spider and the Fly By Charles Garvice. - 299--Little Miss Whirlwind By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 298--Should She Have Left Him? By William C. Hudson. - 297--That Girl from Texas By Mrs. J. H. Walworth. - 296--The Heir of Vering By Charles Garvice. - 295--A Terrible Secret By Geraldine Fleming. - 294--A Warrior Bold By St. George Rathborne. - 293--For Love of Anne Lambart By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 292--For Her Only By Charles Garvice. - 291--A Mysterious Wedding Ring By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 290--A Change of Heart By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 289--Married in Mask By Mansfield T. Walworth. - 288--Sibyl’s Influence By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 287--The Lady of Darracourt By Charles Garvice. - 286--A Debt of Vengeance By Mrs. E. Burke Collins. - 285--Born to Betray By Mrs. M. V. Victor. - 284--Dr. Jack’s Widow By St. George Rathborne. - 283--My Lady Pride By Charles Garvice. - 282--The Forsaken Bride By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 281--For Love Alone By Wenona Gilman. - 280--Love’s Dilemma By Charles Garvice. - 279--Nina’s Peril By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 278--Laura Brayton By Julia Edwards. - 277--Brownie’s Triumph By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 276--So Nearly Lost By Charles Garvice. - 275--Love’s Cruel Whim By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 274--A Romantic Girl By Evelyn E. Green. - 273--At Swords’ Points By St. George Rathborne. - 272--So Fair, So False By Charles Garvice. - 271--With Love’s Laurel Crowned By W. C. Stiles. - 270--Had She Foreseen By Dora Delmar. - 269--Brunette and Blonde By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 268--Olivia; or, It Was for Her Sake By Charles Garvice. - 267--Jeanne By Charles Garvice. - 266--The Welfleet Mystery By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 265--First Love is Best By S. K. Hocking. - 264--For Gold or Soul By Lurana W. Sheldon. - 263--An American Nabob By St. George Rathborne. - 262--A Woman’s Faith By Henry Wallace. - 261--A Siren’s Heart By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 260--At a Girl’s Mercy By Jean Kate Ludlum. - 259--By a Golden Cord By Dora Delmar. - 258--An Amazing Marriage By Mrs. Sumner Hayden. - 257--A Martyred Love By Charles Garvice. - 256--Thy Name is Woman By F. H. Howe. - 255--The Little Marplot By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 254--Little Miss Millions By St. George Rathborne. - 253--A Fashionable Marriage By Mrs. Alex Frazer. - 252--A Handsome Sinner By Dora Delmar. - 251--When Love is True By Mabel Collins. - 250--A Woman’s Soul By Charles Garvice. - 249--What Love Will Do By Geraldine Fleming. - 248--Jeanne, Countess Du Barry By H. L. Williams. - 247--Within Love’s Portals By Frank Barrett. - 246--True to Herself By Mrs. J. H. Walworth. - 245--A Modern Marriage By Clara Lanza. - 244--A Hoiden’s Conquest By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 243--His Double Self By Scott Campbell. - 242--A Wounded Heart By Charles Garvice. - 241--Her Love and Trust By Adeline Sergeant. - 240--Saved by the Sword By St. George Rathborne. - 239--Don Cæsar De Bazan By Victor Hugo. - 238--That Other Woman By Annie Thomas. - 237--Woman or Witch? By Dora Delmar. - 235--Gratia’s Trials By Lucy Randall Comfort. - 234--His Mother’s Sin By Adeline Sergeant. - 233--Nora By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 232--A Debt of Honor By Mabel Collins. - 230--A Woman’s Atonement, and A - Mother’s Mistake By Adah M. Howar. - 229--For the Sake of the Family By May Crommelin. - 228--His Brother’s Widow By Mary Grace Halpine. - 227--For Love and Honor By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 226--The Roll of Honor By Annie Thomas. - 225--A Miserable Woman By Mrs. H. C. Hoffman. - 224--A Sister’s Sacrifice By Geraldine Fleming. - 223--Leola Dale’s Fortune By Charles Garvice. - 222--The Lily of Mordaunt By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 221--The Honorable Jane By Annie Thomas. - 220--A Fatal Past By Dora Russell. - 219--Lost, a Pearle By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 218--A Life for a Love By Mrs. L. T. Meade. - 217--His Noble Wife By George Manville Fenn. - 216--The Lost Bride By Clara Augusta. - 215--Only a Girl’s Love By Charles Garvice. - 214--Olga’s Crime By Frank Barrett. - 213--The Heiress of Egremont By Mrs. Harriet Lewis. - 212--Doubly Wronged By Adah M. Howard. - 211--As We Forgive By Lurana W. Sheldon. - 210--Wild Oats By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 209--She Loved But Left Him By Julia Edwards. - 208--A Chase for a Bride By St. George Rathborne. - 207--Little Golden’s Daughter By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 206--A Daughter of Maryland By G. Waldo Browne. - 205--If Love Be Love By D. Cecil Gibbs. - 204--With Heart So True By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 203--Only One Love By Charles Garvice. - 202--Marjorie By Katharine S. MacQuoid. - 201--Blind Elsie’s Crime By Mary Grace Halpine. - 200--In God’s Country By D. Higbee. - 199--Geoffrey’s Victory By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 198--Guy Kenmore’s Wife and The Rose - and the Lily By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 197--A Woman Scorned By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 196--A Sailor’s Sweetheart By the author of Dr. Jack. - 195--Her Faithful Knight By Gertrude Warden. - 194--A Sinless Crime By Geraldine Fleming. - 193--A Vagabond’s Honor By Ernest De Lancey Pierson. - 192--An Old Man’s Darling and - Jacquelina By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 191--A Harvest of Thorns By Mrs. H. C. Hoffman. - 190--A Captain of the Kaiser By St. George Rathborne. - 189--Berris By Katharine S. MacQuoid. - 188--Dorothy Arnold’s Escape By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 187--The Black Ball By Ernest De Lancey Pierson. - 186--Beneath a Spell By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 185--The Adventures of Miss Volney By Ella Wheeler Wilcox. - 184--Sunlight and Gloom By Geraldine Fleming. - 183--Quo Vadis By Henryk Sienkiewicz. - 182--A Legal Wreck By William Gillette. - 181--The Baronet’s Bride By May Agnes Fleming. - 180--A Lazy Man’s Work By Frances Campbell Sparhawk. - 179--One Man’s Evil By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 178--A Slave of Circumstances By Ernest De Lancey Pierson. - 177--A True Aristocrat By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 176--Jack Gordon, Knight Errant - (Barclay North). By William C. Hudson. - 175--For Honor’s Sake By Laura C. Ford. - 174--His Guardian Angel By Charles Garvice. - 173--A Bar Sinister By the author of Dr. Jack. - 172--A King and a Coward By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 171--That Dakota Girl By Stella Gilman. - 170--A Little Radical By Mrs. J. H. Walworth. - 169--The Trials of an Actress By Wenona Gilman. - 168--Thrice Lost, Thrice Won By May Agnes Fleming. - 167--The Manhattaners By Edward S. Van Zile. - 166--The Masked Bridal By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 165--The Road of the Rough By Maurice M. Minton. - 164--Couldn’t Say No By the author of Helen’s Babies. - 163--A Splendid Egotist By Mrs. J. H. Walworth. - 162--A Man of the Name of John By Florence King. - 161--Miss Fairfax of Virginia By the author of Dr. Jack. - 160--His Way and Her Will By Frances Aymar Mathews. - 159--A Fair Maid of Marblehead By Kate Tannant Woods. - 158--Stella the Star By Wenona Gilman. - 157--Who Wins? By May Agnes Fleming. - 156--A Soldier Lover By Edward S. Brooks. - 155--Nameless Dell By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 154--Husband and Foe By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 153--Her Son’s Wife By Hazel Wood. - 152--A Mute Confessor By Will N. Harben. - 151--The Heiress of Glen Gower By May Agnes Fleming. - 150--Sunset Pass By General Charles King. - 149--The Man She Loved By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 148--Will She Win? By Emma Garrison Jones. - 147--Under Egyptian Skies By the author of Dr. Jack. - 146--Magdalen’s Vow By May Agnes Fleming. - 145--Country Lanes and City Pavements By Maurice M. Minton. - 144--Dorothy’s Jewels By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 143--A Charity Girl By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 142--Her Rescue from the Turks By the author of Dr. Jack. - 141--Lady Evelyn By May Agnes Fleming. - 140--That Girl of Johnson’s By Jean Kate Ludlum. - 139--Little Lady Charles By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 138--A Fatal Wooing By Laura Jean Libbey. - 137--A Wedded Widow By T. W. Hanshew. - 136--The Unseen Bridegroom By May Agnes Fleming. - 135--Cast Up by the Tide By Dora Delmar. - 134--Squire John By the author of Dr. Jack. - 133--Max By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 132--Whose Was the Crime? By Gertrude Warden. - 131--Nerine’s Second Choice By Adelaide Stirling. - 130--A Bitter Bondage By Bertha M. Clay. - 129--In Sight of St. Paul’s By Sutton Vane. - 128--The Scent of the Roses By Dora Delmar. - 127--Nobody’s Daughter By Clara Augusta. - 126--The Girl from Hong Kong By the author of Dr. Jack. - 125--Devil’s Island By A. D. Hall. - 124--Prettiest of All By Julia Edwards. - 123--Northern Lights By A. D. Hall. - 122--Grazia’s Mistake By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 121--Cecile’s Marriage By Lucy Randall Comfort. - 120--The White Squadron By T. C. Harbaugh. - 119--An Ideal Love By Bertha M. Clay. - 118--Saved from the Sea By Richard Duffy. - 117--She Loved Him By Charles Garvice. - 116--The Daughter of the Regiment By Mary A. Denison. - 115--A Fair Revolutionist By the author of Dr. Jack. - 114--Half a Truth By Dora Delmar. - 113--A Crushed Lily By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 112--The Cattle King By A. D. Hall. - 111--Faithful Shirley By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 110--Whose Wife Is She? By Annie Lisle. - 109--A Heart’s Bitterness By Bertha M. Clay. - 108--A Son of Mars By the author of Dr. Jack. - 107--Carla; or Married at Sight By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 106--Lillian, My Lillian By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 105--When London Sleeps By Chas. Darrell. - 104--A Proud Dishonor By Genie Holzmeyer. - 103--The Span of Life By Sutton Vane. - 102--Fair But Faithless By Bertha M. Clay. - 101--A Goddess of Africa By the author of Dr. Jack. - 100--Alice Blake By Francis S. Smith. - 99--Audrey’s Recompense By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 98--Claire By Charles Garvice. - 97--The War Reporter By Warren Edwards. - 96--The Little Minister By J. M. Barrie. - 95--’Twixt Love and Hate By Bertha M. Clay. - 94--Darkest Russia By H. Grattan Donnelly. - 93--A Queen of Treachery By T. W. Hanshew. - 92--Humanity By Sutton Vane. - 91--Sweet Violet By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 90--For Fair Virginia By Russ Whytal. - 89--A Gentleman from Gascony By Bicknell Dudley. - 88--Virgie’s Inheritance By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 87--Shenandoah By J. Perkins Tracy. - 86--A Widowed Bride By Lucy Randall Comfort. - 85--Lorrie; or, Hollow Gold By Charles Garvice. - 84--Between Two Hearts By Bertha M. Clay. - 83--The Locksmith of Lyons By Prof. Wm. Henry Peck. - 82--Captain Impudence By Edwin Milton Royle. - 81--Wedded for an Hour By Emma Garrison Jones. - 80--The Fair Maid of Fez By the author of Dr. Jack. - 79--Marjorie Deane By Bertha M. Clay. - 78--The Yankee Champion By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. - 77--Tina By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 76--Mavourneen From the celebrated play. - 75--Under Fire By T. P. James. - 74--The Cotton King By Sutton Vane. - 73--The Marquis By Charles Garvice. - 72--Willful Winnie By Harriet Sherburne. - 71--The Spider’s Web By the author of Dr. Jack. - 70--In Love’s Crucible By Bertha M. Clay. - 69--His Perfect Trust By a popular author. - 68--The Little Cuban Rebel By Edna Winfield. - 67--Gismonda By Victorien Sardou. - 66--Witch Hazel By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 65--Won by the Sword By J. Perkins Tracy. - 64--Dora Tenney By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 63--Lawyer Bell from Boston By Robert Lee Tyler. - 62--Stella Stirling By Julia Edwards. - 61--La Tosca By Victorien Sardou. - 60--The County Fair By Neil Burgess. - 59--Gladys Greye By Bertha M. Clay. - 58--Major Matterson of Kentucky By the author of Dr. Jack. - 57--Rosamond By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 56--The Dispatch Bearer By Warren Edwards. - 55--Thrice Wedded By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 54--Cleopatra By Victorien Sardou. - 53--The Old Homestead By Denman Thompson. - 52--Woman Against Woman By Effie Adelaide Rowlands. - 51--The Price He Paid By E. Werner. - 50--Her Ransom By Charles Garvice. - 49--None But the Brave By Robert Lee Tyler. - 48--Another Man’s Wife By Bertha M. Clay. - 47--The Colonel by Brevet By the author of Dr. Jack. - 46--Off with the Old Love By Mrs. M. V. Victor. - 45--A Yale Man By Robert Lee Tyler. - 44--That Dowdy By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 43--Little Coquette Bonnie By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 42--Another Woman’s Husband By Bertha M. Clay. - 41--Her Heart’s Desire By Charles Garvice. - 40--Monsieur Bob By the author of Dr. Jack. - 39--The Colonel’s Wife By Warren Edwards. - 38--The Nabob of Singapore By the author of Dr. Jack. - 37--The Heart of Virginia By J. Perkins Tracy. - 36--Fedora By Victorien Sardou. - 35--The Great Mogul By the author of Dr. Jack. - 34--Pretty Geraldine By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 33--Mrs. Bob By the author of Dr. Jack. - 32--The Blockade Runner By J. Perkins Tracy. - 31--A Siren’s Love By Robert Lee Tyler. - 30--Baron Sam By the author of Dr. Jack. - 29--Theodora By Victorien Sardou. - 28--Miss Caprice By the author of Dr. Jack. - 27--Estelle’s Millionaire Lover By Julia Edwards. - 26--Captain Tom By the author of Dr. Jack. - 25--Little Southern Beauty By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 24--A Wasted Love By Charles Garvice. - 23--Miss Pauline of New York By the author of Dr. Jack. - 22--Elaine By Charles Garvice. - 21--A Heart’s Idol By Bertha M. Clay. - 20--The Senator’s Bride By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 19--Mr. Lake of Chicago By Harry DuBois Milman. - 18--Dr. Jack’s Wife By the author of Dr. Jack. - 17--Leslie’s Loyalty By Charles Garvice. - 16--The Fatal Card By Haddon Chambers and B. C. Stephenson. - 15--Dr. Jack By St. George Rathborne. - 14--Violet Lisle By Bertha M. Clay. - 13--The Little Widow By Julia Edwards. - 12--Edrie’s Legacy By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 11--The Gypsy’s Daughter By Bertha M. Clay. - 10--Little Sunshine By Francis S. Smith. - 9--The Virginia Heiress By May Agnes Fleming. - 8--Beautiful But Poor By Julia Edwards. - 7--Two Keys By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 6--The Midnight Marriage By A. M. Douglas. - 5--The Senator’s Favorite By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. - 4--For a Woman’s Honor By Bertha M. Clay. - 3--He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not By Julia Edwards. - 2--Ruby’s Reward By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - 1--Queen Bess By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. - - * * * * * - -..._The_... - -Arrow Library - -A STANDARD LINE BY STANDARD AUTHORS... - -This is a popular line of famous fiction by the world’s most famous -authors. Herein is contained the very cream of American, English and -French literature, including works of Nathaniel Hawthorne, Oliver W. -Holmes, Thomas Hardy, William Black, George Eliot, Alexandre Dumas, -Alphonse Daudet, etc., etc. The stories are of such high literary -merit and entrancing interest, that it is a pleasure to read them. -These books are of a kind to make many a leisure hour pleasant, that -ordinarily would be dull. Glance over the list given herewith and -select any one title. Purchase and read it carefully and you will vote -it the best story you ever read. - - 294--The Lasses of Leverhouse By Jessie Fothergill. - 293--Three Feathers By William Black. - 292--Two Wedding Rings By Margaret Blount. - 291--Golden Girls By Alan Muir. - 290--June By Mrs. Forrester. - 289--The Resurrection By Count Leo Tolstoi. - 288--Elsie Venner By Oliver Wendell Holmes. - 287--The Blithedale Romance By Nathaniel Hawthorne. - 286--Two Marriages By Miss Mulock. - 285--The Maid of Sker By R. D. Blackmore. - 284--Maid, Wife or Widow By Mrs. Alexander. - 283--A Fallen Idol By F. Anstey. - 282--Mosses from an Old Manse By Nathaniel Hawthorne. - 281--Susan Fielding By Mrs. Annie Edwards. - 280--Dick’s Wanderings By Julian Sturgis. - 279--Rhona By Mrs. Forrester. - 278--The Marble Faun By Nathaniel Hawthorne. - 277--Miss Bretherton By Mrs. Humphrey Ward. - 276--The Forty-Five Guardsmen By Alexandre Dumas. - 275--Chicot, the Jester By Alexandre Dumas. - 274--Marguerite De Valois By Alexandre Dumas. - 273--A Ballroom Repentance By Mrs. Annie Edwards. - 272--Christowell By R. D. Blackmore. - 271--The Heritage of Langdale By Mrs. Alexander. - 270--Hearts By David Christie Murray. - 269--Viva By Mrs. Forrester. - 268--Friendship By “Ouida.” - 267--Monte Cristo and Wife By Alexandre Dumas. - 266--Robin By Louisa Parr. - 265--Love’s Harvest By B. L. Farjeon. - 264--Borderland By Jessie Fothergill. - 263--Roy and Viola By Mrs. Forrester. - 262--The Wooing O’t By Mrs. Alexander. - 261--The Canon’s Ward By James Payne. - 260--I Say No By Wilkie Collins. - 259--Doctor Cupid By Rhoda Broughton. - 258--Dolores By Mrs. Forrester. - 257--What’s Bred in the Bone By Grant Allen. - 256--Annan Water By Robert Buchanan. - 255--Pure Gold By Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron. - 254--The Way of the World By David Christie Murray. - 253--Rosamond Leyton By Mary J. Holmes. - 252--Cousin Maude By Mary J. Holmes. - 251--The Chevalier De Maison Rouge By Alexandre Dumas. - 250--Andree De Taverney By Alexandre Dumas. - 249--The Royal Lifeguard By Alexander Dumas. - 248--The Countess De Charny By Alexandre Dumas. - 247--Ange Pitou; or, Taking the Bastile By Alexandre Dumas. - 246--The Queen’s Necklace By Alexandre Dumas. - 245--Memoirs of a Physician By Alexandre Dumas. - 244--Joseph Balsamo By Alexandre Dumas. - 243--Judith Shakespeare By William Black. - 242--Dame Durden By “Rita.” - 241--Driven to Bay By Florence Marryat. - 240--Victor and Vanquished By Mary Cecil Hay. - 239--Nell Gwynn By W. Harrison Ainsworth. - 238--Beside the Bonnie Brier Bush By Ian Maclaren. - 237--For Lilias By Rose Nouchette Carey. - 236--Les Miserables, Vol. III. By Victor Hugo. - 235--Les Miserables, Vol. II. By Victor Hugo. - 234--Les Miserables, Vol. I. By Victor Hugo. - 233--A Woman Hater By Charles Reade. - 232--Dita By Lady Margaret Majendie. - 231--Under Sleive Ban By R. E. Francillon. - 230--The Woodlanders By Thomas Hardy. - 229--Erema By R. D. Blackmore. - 228--Only a Woman By Miss M. E. Braddon. - 227--All in a Garden Fair By Walter Besant. - 226--Faith and Unfaith By “The Duchess.” - 225--Grif By B. L. Farjeon. - 224--Moths By “Ouida.” - 223--The Mystery By Mrs. Henry Wood. - 222--Once Again By Mrs. Forrester. - 221--Felix Holt the Radical By George Eliot. - 220--Duchess Annette By Alexandre Dumas, fils. - 219--Not Wisely, But Too Well - 218--At Bay By Mrs. Alexander. - 217--A Life’s Atonement By David Christie Murray. - 216--A Princess of Thule By William Black. - 215--A Lost Wife By Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron. - 214--Beulah By Augusta J. Evans. - 213--The Moonstone By Wilkie Collins. - 212--The Heir of the Ages By James Payn. - 211--Dark Days By Hugh Conway. - 210--Dead Men’s Shoes By Miss M. E. Braddon. - 209--Comin’ Thro’ the Rye By Helen B. Mathers. - 208--Dick’s Sweetheart By “The Duchess.” - 207--Deldee By Florence Warden. - 206--The Merry Men By Robert Louis Stevenson. - 205--A Life’s Secret By Mrs. Henry Wood. - 204--Hidden Perils By Mary Cecil Hay. - 203--A Country Gentleman By Mrs. Oliphant. - 202--The Man in the Iron Mask By Alexandre Dumas. - 201--Louise de La Valliere By Alexandre Dumas. - 200--The Two Sides of the Shield By Charlotte M. Yonge. - 199--Mistress and Maid By Miss Mulock. - 198--Pascarel By “Ouida.” - 197--In Luck at Last By Walter Besant. - 196--A Modern Circe By “The Duchess.” - 195--Her Lord and Master By Florence Marryat. - 194--The House on the Marsh By Florence Warden. - 193--Foul Play By Charles Reade. - 192--A Pair of Blue Eyes By Thomas Hardy. - 191--Bound by a Spell By Hugh Conway. - 190--Beaton’s Bargain By Mrs. Alexander. - 189--The Last of the Mohicans By J. Fenimore Cooper. - 188--A Prince of Darkness By Florence Warden. - 187--Wee Wifie By Rosa Nouchette Carey. - 186--The Dead Secret By Wilkie Collins. - 185--Mrs. Fenton By W. E. Norris. - 184--Marvel By “The Duchess.” - 183--One Thing Needful By Miss M. E. Braddon. - 182--Lady Grace By Mrs. Henry Wood. - 181--A Vagrant Wife By Florence Warden. - 180--Mignon By Mrs. Forrester. - 179--The Visits of Elizabeth By Elinor Glyn. - 178--The Last Days of Pompeii By Sir Bulwer Lytton. - 177--Jane Eyre By Charlotte Bronte. - 176--Under-Currents By “The Duchess.” - 175--Under Two Flags By “Ouida.” - 174--Rory O’More By Samuel Lover. - 173--The Witch’s Head By H. Rider Haggard. - 172--Averil By Rosa Nouchette Carey. - 171--A Perilous Secret By Charles Reade. - 170--My Lord and My Lady By Mrs. Forrester. - 169--St. Cuthbert’s Tower By Florence Warden. - 168--Married in Haste By Miss M. E. Braddon. - 167--An Englishwoman’s Love Letters - 166--The Picture of Dorian Gray By Oscar Wilde. - 165--Mademoiselle Miss By Henry Harland (Sidney Luska). - 164--Cometh Up as a Flower By Rhoda Broughton. - 163--The Evil Genius By Wilkie Collins. - 162--Cherry Ripe By Helen B. Mathers. - 161--The Heir of Linne By Robert Buchanan. - 160--Rossmoyne By “The Duchess.” - 159--The Danvers Jewels By Mary Cholmondeley. - 158--Lorna Doone By R. D. Blackmore. - 157--Merle’s Crusade By Rosa Nouchette Carey. - 156--Old Hagar’s Secret By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes. - 155--Dora Deane By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes. - 154--John Holdsworth, Chief Mate By W. Clark Russell. - 153--Uncle Tom’s Cabin By Harriet Beecher Stowe. - 152--Airy Fairy Lilian By “The Duchess.” - 151--The Splendid Spur By “Q.” (A. T. Quiller Couch). - 150--East Lynne By Mrs. Henry Wood. - 149--Love and Life By Charlotte M. Yonge. - 148--Madame Sans Gene By Victorien Sardou. - 147--Consequences By Egerton Castle. - 146--My Lady Green Sleeves By Helen B. Mathers. - 145--The Dean and His Daughter By F. C. Philips. - 144--Molly Bawn By “The Duchess.” - 143--That Beautiful Wretch By William Black. - 142--By Woman’s Wit By Mrs. Alexander. - 141--The New Magdalen By Wilkie Collins. - 140--Pretty Miss Smith By Florence Warden. - 139--Ships That Pass in the Night By Beatrice Harraden. - 138--Love Letters of a Worldly Woman By Mrs. W. K. Clifford. - 137--In Strange Company By Guy Boothby. - 136--Red as a Rose is She By Rhoda Broughton. - 135--Pretty Miss Neville By B. M. Croker. - 134--Beauty’s Daughters By “The Duchess.” - 133--Prince Otto, and the Silverado - Squatters By Robert Louis Stevenson. - 132--Red Spider By S. Baring Gould. - 131--A Cardinal Sin By Hugh Conway. - 130--I Have Lived and Loved By Mrs. Forrester. - 129--Chiffon’s Marriage By “Gyp.” - 128--God and the Man By Robert Buchanan. - 127--Sam’s Sweetheart By Helen B. Mathers. - 126--Vice Versa By F. Anstey. - 125--Weavers and Weft By Miss M. E. Braddon. - 124--Cleopatra By H. Rider Haggard. - 123--Phyllis By “The Duchess.” - 122--Far from the Madding Crowd By Thomas Hardy. - 121--Miss Kate By “Rita.” - 120--The Frozen Pirate By W. Clark Russell. - 119--John Halifax, Gentleman By Miss Mulock. - 118--The Master of the Mine By Robert Buchanan. - 117--Good-By, Sweetheart By Rhoda Broughton. - 116--The Master Passion By Florence Marryat. - 115--For Maimie’s Sake By Grant Allen. - 114--Colonel Quaritch, V. C. By H. Rider Haggard. - 113--Aurora Floyd By Miss M. E. Braddon. - 112--Living or Dead By Hugh Conway. - 111--The Queen of Hearts By Wilkie Collins. - 110--Proved Unworthy By Mrs. Emily Lovett. - 109--The Scarlet Letter By Nathaniel Hawthorne. - 108--The Mayor of Casterbridge By Thomas Hardy. - 107--A Change of Air By Anthony Hope. - 106--Camille By Alexandre Dumas, fils. - 105--Concerning Isabel Carnaby By Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler. - 104--Led Astray By Octave Feuillet. - 103--Black Beauty By Anna Sewell. - 102--The Vicomte de Bragelonne By Alexandre Dumas. - 101--The Typewriter Girl By Grant Allen. - 100--The First Violin By Jessie Fothergill. - 99--Twenty Years After By Alexandre Dumas. - 98--A Man of Mark By Anthony Hope. - 97--The Courting of Dinah Shadd By Rudyard Kipling. - 96--The Count of Monte Cristo - (Part II.) By Alexandre Dumas. - 95--Young Mistley By Henry Seton Merriman. - 94--Lady Audley’s Secret By Miss M. E. Braddon. - 93--A Bride from the Bush By E. W. Hornung. - 92--Edmond Dantes (Vol. I. of the Count - of Monte Cristo) By Alexandre Dumas. - 91--The Story of an African Farm By Olive Schreiner. - 90--The Hunchback of Notre Dame By Victor Hugo. - 89--Carmen and Colomba By Prosper Merimee. - 88--Suspense By Henry Seton Merriman. - 87--Self-Raised; or, From the - Depths By Mrs. Emma D. E. N. Southworth. - 86--Ishmael; or, In the - Depths By Mrs. Emma D. E. N. Southworth. - 85--Prisoners and Captives By Henry Seton Merriman. - 84--The Shadow of the Crime By Hall Caine. - 83--Jess: A Tale of the Transvaal By H. Rider Haggard. - 82--Inez By Augusta J. Evans. - 81--The White Company By A. Conan Doyle. - 80--Macaria By Augusta J. Evans. - 79--Meadowbrook By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes. - 78--The Phantom Future By Hentry Seton Merriman. - 77--The Three Musketeers By Alexandre Dumas. - 76--The Cruise of the - Cachalot By Frank T. Bullen, Chief Mate. - 75--The New Arabian Nights By Robert Louis Stevenson. - 74--An Egyptian Princess By George Ebers. - 73--The Bondman By Hall Caine. - 72--Dead Man’s Rock By “Q.” (A. T. Quiller-Couch). - 71--In the Golden Days By Edna Lyall. - 70--Under the Deodars and Story of - the Gadsbys By Rudyard Kipling. - 69--The Firm of Girdlestone By A. Conan Doyle. - 68--The Bab Ballads By W. S. Gilbert. - 67--The Partners By Alphonse Daudet. - 66--A Hardy Norseman By Edna Lyall. - 65--Soldiers Three By Rudyard Kipling. - 64--Frivolous Cupid By Anthony Hope. - 63--Plain Tales from the Hills By Rudyard Kipling. - 62--The Honorable Mrs. Vereker By “The Duchess.” - 61--The King’s Stratagem and Other - Stories By Stanley J. Weyman. - 60--The Homestead on the Hillside By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes. - 59--Jack By Alphonse Daudet. - 58--My Lady’s Money By Wilkie Collins. - 57--English Orphans By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes. - 56--Lena Rivers By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes. - 55--Thelma By Marie Corelli. - 54--The House of Seven Gables By Nathaniel Hawthorne. - 53--Tempest and Sunshine By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes. - 52--Worth Winning By Mrs. Emily Lovett Cameron. - 51--Eric Brighteyes By H. Rider Haggard. - 50--Donovan By Edna Lyall. - 49--Ballads and Other Verses By Rudyard Kipling. - 48--The Iron Pirate By Max Pemberton. - 47--Wormwood By Marie Corelli. - 46--The Romance of a Poor Young Man By Octave Feuillet. - 45--Won by Waiting By Edna Lyall. - 44--Miss Milne and I By the author of “A Yellow Aster.” - 43--The Prince of the House of - David By Rev. Prof. J. H. Ingraham. - 42--Cyrano de Bergerac By Edmond Rostand. - 41--Beautiful Jim By John Strange Winter. - 40--Mildred Trevanion By “The Duchess.” - 39--Hector Servadac By Jules Verne. - 38--The Maddoxes By Jean Middlemass. - 37--Ruy Blas By Victor Hugo. - 36--Vendetta By Marie Corelli. - 35--Coralie’s Son By Albert Delpit. - 34--The Duchess By “The Duchess.” - 33--Allan Quatermain By H. Rider Haggard. - 32--The Tragedy in the Rue de la Paix By Adolph Belot. - 31--The Great Hesper By Frank Barret. - 30--The Toilers of the Sea By Victor Hugo. - 29--Chris By W. E. Norris. - 28--The Stranglers of Paris From the celebrated play. - 27--Ardath, Vol. II. By Marie Corelli. - 26--Ardath, Vol. I. By Marie Corelli. - 25--Ingemar By Nathan D. Urner. - 24--Treasure Island By Robert Louis Stevenson. - 23--His Fatal Vow By Leon De Tinseau. - 22--In All Shades By Grant Allen. - 21--Around the World in Eighty Days By Jules Verne. - 20--A Dangerous Catspaw By David Christie Murray. - 19--Han of Iceland By Victor Hugo. - 18--A Romance of Two Worlds By Marie Corelli. - 17--The Sign of the Four By A. Conan Doyle. - 16--Sappho By Alphonse Daudet. - 15--Kidnapped By Robert Louis Stevenson. - 14--Jack and Three Jills By F. C. Philips. - 13--As in a Looking-Glass By F. C. Philips. - 12--The Phantom ’Rickshaw By Rudyard Kipling. - 11--A Marriage at Sea By W. Clark Russell. - 10--The House of the Wolf By Stanley J. Weyman. - 9--The Rogue By W. E. Norris. - 8--A Living Lie By Paul Bourget. - 7--King or Knave By R. E. Francillon. - 6--Beyond the City By A. Conan Doyle. - 5--Master of Ballantrae By Robert Louis Stevenson. - 4--Germinie Lacerteux By E. & J. de Goncourt. - 3--A Study in Scarlet By A. Conan Doyle. - 2--She’s All the World to Me By Hall Caine. - 1--The Light That Failed By Rudyard Kipling. - -ALL THE BEST WORKS OF - - =Alexandre Dumas= - =William Black= - =R. D. Blackmore= - -And many other famous authors are contained in - -The Arrow Library - -High-Class Literature at a Moderate Price - - * * * * * - -THE PARAGON OF ALL - -_The Dr. Jack Series_ - -Every author’s work appeals to a particular class of readers. Only -a few writers, however, have the happy faculty of interesting all -classes. Mr. St. George Rathborne is one of these. 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