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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/76634-0.txt b/76634-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d9fdcb6 --- /dev/null +++ b/76634-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8229 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76634 *** + + + + + + PRICE 25 CENTS + + Lillian’s Vow + + BY MRS. E. BURKE COLLINS + + THE SWEETHEART SERIES. + + [Illustration] + + GEORGE + MUNRO’S + SONS, + PUBLISHERS, + + 17 to 27 + VANDEWATER + STREET, + NEW YORK. + + Copyright, 1898, by George Munro’s Sons. + + By Subscription, $10.00 per Annum. + + + + +THE SWEETHEART SERIES. + + +This series contains the most popular books of the day. They are 12mos, +printed on good paper, in large, clear type, and bound in handsome +photogravure covers. + + 1 The Marquis Charles Garvice + 2 Beautiful Ione’s Lover Laura Jean Libbey + 3 The Midnight Marriage Mrs. Sumner Hayden + 4 All For Love of a Fair Face Laura Jean Libbey + 5 A Wasted Love Charles Garvice + 6 Daisy Brooks Laura Jean Libbey + 7 Leslie’s Loyalty Charles Garvice + 8 Little Rosebud’s Lovers Laura Jean Libbey + 9 Elaine Charles Garvice + 10 A Struggle for a Heart Laura Jean Libbey + 11 Claire Charles Garvice + 12 Junie’s Love-Test Laura Jean Libbey + 13 Her Heart’s Desire Charles Garvice + 14 Leonie Locke Laura Jean Libbey + 15 Her Ransom Charles Garvice + 16 Madolin Rivers Laura Jean Libbey + 17 A Coronet of Shame Charles Garvice + 18 The Heiress of Cameron Hall Laura Jean Libbey + 19 Woman Against Woman Mrs. M. A. Holmes + 20 The Song of Miriam Marie Corelli + 21 Lorrie; or, Hollow Gold Charles Garvice + 22 His Perfect Trust Charlotte M. Braeme + 23 Addie’s Husband By the Author of “Jessie” + 24 The Heiress of Hilldrop Charlotte M. Braeme + 25 For Another’s Sin Charlotte M. Braeme + 26 Set in Diamonds Charlotte M. Braeme + 27 The World Between Them Charlotte M. Braeme + 28 A Passion Flower Charlotte M. Braeme + 29 A True Magdalen Charlotte M. Braeme + 30 A Woman’s Error Charlotte M. Braeme + 31 Leonie, the Sweet Street Singer By the Author of + “For Mother’s Sake” + 32 At War with Herself Charlotte M. Braeme + 33 The Belle of Lynn Charlotte M. Braeme + 34 The Shadow of a Sin Charlotte M. Braeme + 35 Claribel’s Love Story Charlotte M. Braeme + 36 A Woman’s War Charlotte M. Braeme + 37 Lady Audley’s Secret Miss M. E. Braddon + 38 Hilary’s Folly Charlotte M. Braeme + 39 From Gloom to Sunlight Charlotte M. Braeme + 40 A Haunted Life Charlotte M. Braeme + 41 The Mystery of Colde Fell; or, Not Proven Charlotte M. Braeme + 42 A Dark Marriage Morn Charlotte M. Braeme + 43 The Duke’s Secret Charlotte M. Braeme + 44 His Wife’s Judgment Charlotte M. Braeme + 45 A Thorn in Her Heart Charlotte M. Braeme + 46 A Nameless Sin Charlotte M. Braeme + 47 A Mad Love Charlotte M. Braeme + 48 Irene’s Vow Charlotte M. Braeme + 49 Signa’s Sweetheart Charlotte M. Braeme + 50 Not Like Other Girls Rosa N. Carey + +For sale by all newsdealers and booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on +receipt of 25 cents each, or five copies for $1.00, by the publishers. + + Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, + 17 to 27 VANDEWATER STREET, NEW YORK. + + + + + LILLIAN’S VOW; + + OR, + + THE MYSTERY OF RALEIGH HOUSE + + BY + + MRS. E. BURKE COLLINS. + + COPYRIGHT, 1889, BY GEORGE MUNRO. + + [Illustration: SWEETHEART SERIES] + + NEW YORK: + GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, PUBLISHERS, + 17 TO 27 VANDEWATER STREET. + + + + +A SKIN OF BEAUTY IS A JOY FOREVER. + +DR. T. FELIX GOURAUD’S + +Oriental Cream, or Magical Beautifier, + + +Removes Tan, Pimples, Freckles, Moth-Patches, Rash and Skin diseases, +and every blemish on beauty, and defies detection. On its virtues it +has stood the test of 54 years; no other has; and is so harmless we +taste it to be sure it is properly made. Accept no counterfeit of +similar name. The distinguished Dr. L. A. Sayre said to a lady of the +_haut ton_ (a patient): “_As you ladies will use them, I recommend +‘Gouraud’s Cream’ as the least harmful of all the Skin preparations._” +One bottle will last six months, using it every day. =Gouraud’s Poudre +Subtile removes superfluous hair without injury to the skin.= + +[Illustration: =Purifies as well as Beautifies the Skin= No other +cosmetic will do it.] + + FERD. T. HOPKINS, Proprietor, + 37 Great Jones St., New York. + +For sale by all Druggists and Fancy Goods Dealers throughout the U. S., +Canadas, and Europe. + +Also found in N. Y. City at R. H. Macy’s, Wanamaker’s, and other Fancy +Goods Dealers. ☞ Beware of Base Imitations. $1,000 Reward for arrest +and proof of any one selling the same. + + + + +PRACTICAL PALMISTRY. + +A TREATISE ON CHIROSOPHY, + +BASED ON ACTUAL EXPERIENCES. + +By HENRY FRITH. + +WITH MANY ILLUSTRATIONS. + + +ALSO, + +HOW TO HYPNOTIZE. + +Including the Whole Art of Mesmerism. + +By PROFESSOR BARTER. + + +This is the most comprehensive treatise on Palmistry and Hypnotism that +has ever been issued. + + For sale by all newsdealers, or sent by mail, postage paid, on receipt + of 25 cents, by the publishers. Address + + GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, PUBLISHERS, + P. O. Box 1781. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York. + + + + +LILLIAN’S VOW. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER I. POOR LILLIAN! + CHAPTER II. MISS RALEIGH’S COMPANION. + CHAPTER III. HAUNTED. + CHAPTER IV. APRES! + CHAPTER V. JACK STRIKES A BLOW. + CHAPTER VI. IN THE ROUND ROOM. + CHAPTER VII. ROSAMOND SPEAKS HER MIND. + CHAPTER VIII. HER LORD AND MASTER. + CHAPTER IX. DECEIVED. + CHAPTER X. ACCEPTED. + CHAPTER XI. IN THE CONSERVATORY. + CHAPTER XII. FROM THE OTHER WORLD. + CHAPTER XIII. A GUILTY CONSCIENCE. + CHAPTER XIV. MISJUDGED. + CHAPTER XV. THE DIE IS CAST. + CHAPTER XVI. A TRYING ORDEAL. + CHAPTER XVII. A SNAKE IN THE GRASS. + CHAPTER XVIII. “BEWARE!” + CHAPTER XIX. BESSIE SEES THE GAME. + CHAPTER XX. GREEK MEETS GREEK. + CHAPTER XXI. IN AMBUSH. + CHAPTER XXII. HER FLIGHT. + CHAPTER XXIII. VAN ALSTYNE’S REVENGE. + CHAPTER XXIV. GONE TO HER DOOM. + CHAPTER XXV. FORGED FETTERS. + CHAPTER XXVI. FACE TO FACE. + CHAPTER XXVII. UNMASKED. + CHAPTER XXVIII. GEOFFREY GREY ATONES. + CHAPTER XXIX. DISCOVERED. + CHAPTER XXX. THE END. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +POOR LILLIAN! + + +“Help! Help!” + +A hoarse groan, a stifled cry, then silence settled down. A clear, +crisp wintery night, with the great city lying asleep beneath an +opal-tinted sky, the rush and roar of the day’s turmoil temporarily +suspended. It was late, and few people were abroad, especially upon +this retired street, where a flickering, flaring electric light threw a +yellow glare over the scene. + +A man--old and white-haired, frail and feeble--was struggling in the +grasp of strong hands, while a dark face, over which a broad-brimmed +felt hat was slouched, so that his eyes and the upper part of his face +were hidden from sight, bent over him, glaring down into the white, +frightened countenance of his victim. + +That this was no common case of garroting or highway robbery was +apparent at a glance. + +“Where is it?” hissed the assailant. “Give it to me at once, Gilbert +Leigh, or, as sure as I live, I will kill you! Give me the book--the +memorandum-book in your possession, with all its contents undisturbed! +You _must_ do it! You shall, Gilbert Leigh! You hold my liberty, my +very life, in your hands. You must be mad to think that I would let you +go until I have gained possession of the book! Give it to me, I say, +or--” + +The strong fingers of his right hand tightened their hold upon the +old man’s throat, while the other hand went into the inner pocket of +the thick, warm overcoat that the old man wore. Something was quickly +transferred from the pocket to that of the assailant--something +which proved to be a long, leathern book fastened with a band of +stout elastic. The dusky eyes under the slouched hat sparkled with +gratification, and low under his breath he panted swiftly: + +“I have it! The book is mine! And so will perish every clew to my +guilt! I would die before the truth should be known! Why, this old +man held proofs which would have ruined me and ousted me from my high +position! I would--” + +“Stop!” + +The word, gasped feebly, fell from the pale lips of the half-dead old +man. + +“Listen to me,” he went on, brokenly, as the hold of the other +gradually relaxed from about his throat. “I have a word to say. +In--in--my investigations among the books and papers of your +office--investigations which I was commanded to make by my superiors--I +have discovered that you are not only a forger and embezzler--a living +disgrace to the time-honored name that you bear--but that you are--” + +He bent his gray head and whispered a few words in the ears of the +other man. With a savage howl, like a wild beast suddenly let loose +upon its prey, he flashed about and grasped the old man once more by +the throat. There was murder now in the dark eyes gleaming under the +broad-brimmed felt hat. + +“_Die!_” he panted, hoarsely, “you miserable old spy! Say your prayers +now, for I am going to kill you!” + +“By Jove! we’ll see about that!” cried a clear, ringing voice, as firm +footsteps drew rapidly near, and a tall figure came to an abrupt halt. +Crash! went a blow--a back-handed, powerful blow--which landed directly +in the chest of the would-be assassin. There was a dull thud as a dark +form dropped to the pavement, then the electric light went out in that +sudden and exasperating way which electric lights are prone to do upon +the smallest provocation, and when it flared up once more, the limp, +lifeless form upon the pavement and the tall figure of the new-comer +bending over it were the only objects in sight. The new-comer, the +man who had struck the blow, was tall and handsome, with pale, olive +complexion, soft, dark eyes and waves of dark hair. A face good to +look at anywhere. He stooped and peered into the old man’s upturned +countenance, a delicate patrician face, with clear-cut features, and a +broad forehead with a fringe of soft white hair. + +“I’m afraid he’s dead, poor fellow!” said the young man, ruefully. +“Well, of course it will be another item for the ‘Daily Thunderer,’ and +I wouldn’t be a hard-working journalist, with my fortune all to make, +if I did not welcome an item.” + +He was speaking lightly, as one accustomed to such scenes, but there +was an under-current of feeling in his voice which revealed the kindly +heart beating in his breast. + +He drew from his pocket a policeman’s whistle and blew a shrill blast. + +Silence for a moment, during which time the young man proceeded to tear +open the old man’s shirt-collar, and lift the white head to give him a +little air. + +There was no sign of life. The chest did not move, the white hands lay +limp and lifeless at his side. + +Tramp, tramp, down the street, swift and straight, came the echo of +heavy footfalls. A moment more the gleam of a silver badge, a blue +uniform, and a gruff voice demanding sternly: + +“Come, now! What’s all this? Why”--in a tone of satisfaction--“if it +ain’t Mr. Lyndon!” + +The young man grasped the hand extended. + +“Jack Lyndon, of the ‘Daily Thunderer,’ at your service. Your name is +McElroy, I believe? Yes; well, I found this old man just now in the +grasp of a garroter, highway robber, whatever you may choose to call +him. I struck the fellow a blow, he came down with a thud; but he got +off somehow, and the old man is, I believe--McElroy, can he be dead?” + +McElroy laid his hand upon the heart of the prostrate man, and a swift +look of horror dawned upon his face, as the electric light flared up +brightly, revealing the features plainly. + +“Good heavens! it’s Mr. Leigh! Dear, dear! that’s awful now! And poor +Miss Lillian, it will just kill her! I think, Mr. Lyndon--I really +think and fear that the old man is gone! If it’s so, I tell you what, +I wouldn’t like to face Lillian Leigh with his body. Mr. Lyndon, you +never knew such a case in your life of father and daughter so wrapped +up in each other that they could hardly bear to be out of each other’s +sight. You see, there ain’t none of the Leigh family left but Miss +Lillian and her father. She does type-writing at home, and old Mr. +Leigh himself was an expert accountant, and some folks say a kind of +spy in the big commercial house of Raleigh & Raleigh--to look after +the interests of the firm in a quiet way, you know; it’s the biggest +commercial concern in the whole state--to watch over slippery young +clerks and wild fellows, to keep an eye upon all the employees, in +fact. A number of them--I speak the plain truth--are sons of the best +families here. They need watching, Mr. Lyndon”--shaking his head slowly +and dubiously--“sure’s you are born, they need watching.” + +All this time he had been chafing the thin, white hands, and trying to +force a little brandy between the old man’s clinched teeth. He laid the +white head back against Lyndon’s knee at last with a low sigh. + +“’Tain’t no use! It really seems like ’tain’t no use, Mr. Jack. +I--I--see--” + +He arose to his feet and pointed to a row of buildings, all alike, +with an air of quiet respectability. Their rows of shuttered windows, +each house with its high, arched porch and white stone steps--the neat +brass door-plates at every door--told, without words, that this was a +neighborhood of boarding-houses and “apartments to let.” The policeman +lifted his club and pointed to a side window in the second story of one +of the houses, where a faint light gleamed like a star. Even while they +gazed, the blind was opened softly, and some one peered out into the +night below. McElroy groaned. + +“Them’s their rooms up there, Mr. Lyndon!” he said, softly. “Who is +going to bring the old man into the house? And who--” he flashed about +with a tragic gesture--“Good God! Who’s going to tell Miss Lillian?” + +The window-blind upstairs was closed softly, and the watching figure +disappeared. A strange pang shot through Jack Lyndon’s big, honest +heart. Years afterward, he was wont to look back upon that moment, and +say that it was a presentiment of what was to come. + +“Poor girl! My heart aches for her!” he muttered. “It will be a +terrible blow to bear.” And then, before he scarcely realized it, Jack +Lyndon found himself standing upon the white stone steps of No. 3 ----, +McElroy at his side, ringing the door-bell in a peremptory summons. +One! boomed from the tower of a church not far away. One! repeated a +silvery-toned time-piece somewhere within the silent house at whose +door they were standing. Silence--utter silence--broken at length by +the opening of an upper window, and a masculine voice demanded sternly +who was there, and what they wanted at that time of night. + +A few words made clear the sad situation. The window was closed, and +a little later the house-door was opened, and the gas-light burning +dimly in the hall turned up to a cheery blaze. They bore him into the +wide hall and laid him, limp and lifeless, upon a sofa there. Somebody +telephoned for the nearest physician, and a group of half-dressed men +and women gathered round the sofa, gazing, with horror-distended eyes, +upon the sad spectacle. Then the physician bustled in; five minutes’ +examination, and the verdict came. Gilbert Leigh was dead. He had died +from the effects of strangulation. + +“Who will tell Lillian?” + +Somebody asked the question in an awe-stricken voice. Nobody essayed +to reply. It was answered in an unexpected way. The opening of a door +above stairs; a hush of solemn silence; then the rustle of a woman’s +draperies; flying footsteps down the broad stairs descending into the +hall below, and, before any one could realize the situation, a slight +figure, in a flowing robe of white cashmere, with a cloud of golden +hair streaming over her shoulders, dashed into their midst, and fell +upon her knees by the sofa, while a pair of soft, white arms went +around the old man’s neck. + +“Papa!” One shrill cry which cut to the heart of every person present. +“Papa! Oh, papa, papa! open your eyes and look at me just once! Speak +to me, papa--just one word! Oh, papa, papa, papa!” + +Jack Lyndon ventured to her side at last, and laid his hand--a strong, +white hand--lightly upon the bowed golden head. + +“Miss Leigh”--in a voice that quivered with sympathy--“try to be brave!” + +She lifted a small, childish face--a beautiful face, with perfectly +chiseled features, and eyes so large and deep and dark that they looked +like black velvet. + +“Do you--know--what is wrong, sir?” she faltered, feebly. “Papa went +out this evening--down to the office. He had papers to attend to. Papa +never leaves me alone when he can help it; but he found that he had +forgotten his memorandum-book. It contained business relating to the +private affairs of his employers which was priceless. Papa often said +that if he lost the book he could never enter his employers’ presence +again or expect to be treated with confidence. I know that he would +defend the book, if need be, with his life. Sir”--she arose to her feet +with quiet dignity--“if that book is gone from his body it has been +stolen, and he has been attacked while defending it.” + +Then with a swift burst of passionate grief she flashed about, and fell +upon her knees once more, winding her arms about her father’s neck; and +then, drawing the cold face down to her own, she laid her white cheek +against his. + +“How cold you are, papa!” in a low, tense voice inexpressibly pathetic. +“You were never so cold before. What is the matter, dear? You are weak +and ill and faint, and--” + +Her eyes fell for the first time upon the great purple marks about his +throat--the cruel marks of the assassin’s strong fingers. She started +up with a bitter cry. + +“What--what does this mean?” she panted, pointing to the tell-tale +marks. “He is dead--dead!” + +The truth had come to her at last. He had been murdered. The book had +been taken from him, and he had died in its defense. + +“Oh, papa! papa! speak, and tell your little Lily this awful secret! +My papa, who has gone from me forever--tell me, tell me! You will come +back to me, papa! If disembodied spirits can return to earth, I know +that you will come to me! Speak, papa! Oh, my papa! All I had to love +in the great, cold, cruel world, speak, and tell me--who did this awful +deed?” + +And then a strange occurrence took place. Even the physician could not +repress an exclamation of surprise. The dead man’s lips parted slowly, +and a few drops of blood oozed from them and trickled down upon the +snowy beard. To those present it seemed for a moment--so wrought up +were they by the awful tragedy--that Gilbert Leigh had indeed attempted +to speak; that in answer to the pitiful beseeching of his child, the +dumb lips had attempted to frame a reply and utter the name of his +murderer. + +The girl’s pale face froze into an icy calm. She lifted her right hand +with a swift gesture, upon her face a look which made the spectators +hold their breath in speechless awe. + +“Hear me!” she said, in the same tense voice, “and bear witness to +what I say! I take no oath, I bind myself by no pledge, I make no wild +assertions or prophecies, but, I say this: my father’s murderer shall +yet be found! It may be years before it comes to pass; but sooner or +later, the man who took Gilbert Leigh’s life in this base, dastardly +manner, shall be found and punished! And when the hour comes in which +I shall stand face to face with him, when his guilt is exposed and his +crime revealed, may God have mercy upon him, for I shall have none!” + +She sunk upon her knees once more at her dead father’s side, like a +pallid, sad-eyed ghost; and when morning stole in at the shuttered +windows, she was crouching there still. Not a tear had she shed; not +another word had passed her lips; but there was that in her pale young +face which made all who saw her afraid. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +MISS RALEIGH’S COMPANION. + + +“Which shall I wear, mamma, the pale blue silk, with white lace and +pearl ornaments, or the new amber satin with hand-painted panels and +black lace overdress looped with diamonds? Ah, yes, that will be the +handsomest and most striking! And I shall wear _all_ the Raleigh +diamonds!” + +“But, Rosamond, _all_ the Raleigh diamonds would be too many jewels +for a single toilet. It would be bad taste, my dear; yet, after +all”--Mrs. Raleigh bent her stately head with its silver-gray puffs in +a meditative way--“it would be something unique! What a woman requires +nowadays in fashionable society is to look as odd and unusual as +possible. But, Rosamond, we live in a great city, and our fashionable +society is controlled by--” + +“The woman I hate!” burst forth Rosamond, vindictively, with an angry +gesture. “She is my own cousin, but I hate her, hate her, _hate_ her! I +tell you, mamma, the day upon which Cousin Lenore Vane made her grand +marriage was a bad day for her as well as myself! When she became the +wife of a senator I knew then that my reign was over--that I could +never surpass her in position, in social triumph. And since that day +I have hated her as I have never hated any living creature, and I +shall hate her till I die! To see her surrounded by her satellites is +perfectly nauseating to me, and the absurd flatteries lavished upon +her--why, in her presence I am hardly noticed--nearly drive me mad!” + +“I know--I understand”--soothingly; “but never mind, Rosamond! You are +bound to make a grand marriage some day. She is the wife of Senator Van +Alstyne, it is true; but in point of wealth you are--” + +“The daughter of Grafton Raleigh, of the great firm of Raleigh & +Raleigh!” interrupted Rosamond, haughtily. “No business house in the +whole United States holds a higher or more enviable position! Do not +forget that, mamma!” + +Rosamond Raleigh began to pace up and down the luxurious room, her +delicate blonde face flushed slightly, the big, china-blue eyes drawn +close together with the ugly scowl which puckered her white forehead, +her small, jeweled hands clinched angrily. She came to a halt at +length, and her face wore a very unlovely expression in its jealous +wrath. + +“The wife of Senator Van Alstyne! And what of that!” she pouted, +angrily. “He is a great, coarse, pompous creature, most repugnant to +me, or to any civilized taste. If there was any use in wondering over +such matters in this corrupt age, I would marvel exceedingly that he +should ever have been made a member of the United States Senate! But +these affairs are unfathomable. As for Lenore, she was always sly and +underhand. I know that she has never cared for her big, red-faced +senator, and only married him to gratify her vanity, and--mamma, say +what you like, you can never change my opinion--there is a secret in +Lenore Vane’s life. And I believe that, to cover up this secret--this +bad, black, unpleasant secret--she married Senator Van Alstyne!” + +“Rosamond!” + +Mrs. Raleigh’s face was pale as death, and in her gray-blue eyes +something like terror. + +“You are talking wildly, daughter,” she returned, trying to steady +her voice. “You could know nothing concerning Lenore’s past. She is +seven years your senior. You were twenty-five last summer,” she added, +musingly. + +“Hush!” Rosamond turned quite pale. “The idea of your telling my age +right out like that! Anyone in the next room might have heard every +word! But, speaking of Lenore’s position, I am going to shine her down +to-morrow night at her own reception! In point of beauty she can not +hold a candle to me! With her pale, colorless face, and big, dark eyes, +and all that assumption of hauteur! Bah! I am sick of all the silly +flatteries lavished upon that woman! Ah-h!” hissing the word forth +vindictively, “if only it were in my power to unmask her, to expose +her secret--whatever it may be! And, mamma, listen, and believe me: I +am convinced that the day is coming when I shall triumph--when I shall +cast her down from her high pedestal into the very dust at my feet! Oh, +what a day that will be!” + +“Rosamond!” + +“Then I will pay back the debt of hatred that I owe, with compound +interest,” hissed the girl, paying no heed to her mother’s warning +voice; “and so, mamma”--changing to a lighter tone--“I shall go to +Madame Lenore Van Alstyne’s reception to-morrow night, wearing the +Raleigh diamonds and that incomparable amber satin. You know me well +enough to be sure that I am going to have my own way!” + +Mrs. Raleigh sighed as she turned away, while Rosamond crossed the room +to a door which communicated with a small octagonal apartment, and +opened it hastily. Her face was still harsh and angry, and there was a +glitter in the blue eyes which boded ill for some one. + +“Noisette!” she called, shrilly. + +A young girl, a pale-faced, dark-eyed girl, seated at a window in the +tiny room, busily engaged in painting upon a piece of amber satin, laid +down her brush, and turned swiftly. + +“Do you want me, Miss Rosamond?” she asked. + +“Do I want you? Humph! Of course I would be sure to call you if I did +_not_ want you! That goes without saying! Have you finished the last +panel of the amber satin?” + +“Not quite.” The girl’s voice was slow and hesitating. “My heart hurts +me so this morning that I could not work quite so fast as usual, and +so--” + +“Bring it here to me!” + +The voice was low and ominous; Rosamond Raleigh was trembling +with rage. Slowly Noisette obeyed the command, and entered the +outer apartment, in one small, shapely hand the amber satin panel, +exquisitely painted with bunches of scarlet poppies, and long, clinging +tendrils of pale-green leaves. It was the work of a true artist, and +Rosamond Raleigh knew it--knew that her hand-painted fans and costly +bits of silk and satin were the envy of half her set. And she realized +perfectly that she was getting all this exquisite work done for such a +mere nothing--the poor girl was a dependent upon the Raleighs--that it +was a positive sin. + +One glance at the girl’s pale face and heavy, red-rimmed eyes, but +not a tinge of pity stirred Miss Raleigh’s cold heart. The heart of a +fashionable woman, immersed in dress and society, is colder and harder +than stone. + +“Not done yet,” in a cutting voice, “and the reception at Senator Van +Alstyne’s to come off to-morrow night, and I must have that dress to +wear. I will have it; do you hear me? That painting must be done, +though it kills you to do it.” + +“Miss Rosamond, I will try.” + +The girl’s voice was very faint, and trembled perceptibly. + +“But my heart hurts me awfully,” she continued, “and sometimes I am +obliged to stop and rest; and it is so difficult to breathe. Everything +seems to get dark before me, and I feel afraid. And besides,” +hesitatingly, “the odor of the paints is disagreeable.” + +“Well, have you finished your complaints?” sneered Miss Raleigh, +pitilessly. “Because if you have I would be pleased to see you go to +work. I think I have done enough for you in taking you out of the +orphan asylum and giving you a good home. But you are getting so lazy +that you do not earn your salt. Go back to the sewing-room at once, and +have that panel finished before three o’clock, or”--she drew her breath +with a little hiss, her blue eyes glaring angrily into the girl’s +white, pain-distorted face--“it will be bad for you, my lady,” she +added, sharply. + +Noisette bent her head slightly, and, taking the panel, returned to the +room that she had left, closing its door behind her. Her face was white +and rigid, and one hand clutched at her heart as though in pain. + +“Heaven help me!” murmured the poor girl, under her breath. “I am +dying, and she knows it. Ah, better for me if she had left me in the +asylum. At least they have some mercy there.” + +She sunk into the low seat at the window and took the brush in her +cold, clammy hand. + +“God pity the orphan!” she murmured, feebly. + +The brush began to move slowly, uncertainly over the glinting, amber +satin; at length it fell upon the dainty fabric, leaving a big red +stain. It looked like heart’s blood. + +The girl started up as though some one had struck her a blow; her head +fell forward. A sensation stole over her like floating dreamily through +space. The pale lips parted, and one word escaped them: + +“Mother!” + +That was all. + + * * * * * + +“Rosamond! Come here, quick! Oh, God, have mercy upon us!” + +Rosamond Raleigh heard her mother’s voice in tones of wildest +excitement and alarm an hour or two later, and arising from the satin +couch, where she had been reading a French novel, she hastened to the +octagonal room whence the sound proceeded. + +Her mother was standing beside the marble table, upon which the +painting materials were scattered, and Noisette’s head had fallen +forward and rested against the marble top of the table. But the first +object that caught Rosamond’s eye as she entered the room was the spot +of fresh paint upon the amber satin panel. + +She caught her breath with a gasp of rage. + +“You have ruined my dress!” she shrieked, rushing to the side of the +poor girl, and seizing her rudely by the shoulder; “you have literally +ruined it! But you shall pay for it! I swear it! I will make you suffer +for this! Mamma!”--falling back with a terrified cry--“what is the +matter?” + +Noisette’s head had fallen limply to one side, as the rude fingers +closed down upon the thin shoulders in that cruel grip; her eyes were +half open, set, staring and glassy; her lips were parted, showing +the white teeth with a ghastly expression. Noisette was dead! Heart +disease had stricken her down while at her work. + +The orphan girl’s troubles were ended. She had died at her post, +engaged in a thankless task. + +For just a moment the hard heart of Rosamond Raleigh quailed; she sunk +into a seat and covered her face with her hands. + +“Mamma!” glancing up at last, “is she really dead? Is there no hope--no +mistake? Why, this is awful! And it will get into the newspapers. I +wouldn’t have Jack Lyndon get hold of the affair, not for a fortune! +I’m more than half afraid of his sharp tongue and sharper pen. Can we +do nothing?” arising, and, with evident repugnance, approaching the +still figure in the chair. + +Mrs. Raleigh shook her head. She had seen Death in too many forms not +to know his dread presence beyond a doubt. + +“She has been dead an hour, I should think,” Mrs. Raleigh observed; +“but for form’s sake I will send for a physician. And then--oh, +dear!--there will be a coroner’s inquest, and--” + +“Never! Not in this house! Mamma, just think of the publicity! We must +manage to avoid it in some way.” + +And they did. In their high position, and with plenty of money at their +command--alas! what will not money do?--all was speedily arranged. The +body of the girl was arrayed for its last resting-place, and borne into +an unused room, where it was placed in a plain coffin, to be buried +quietly away in the nearest cemetery early in the morning. + +The arrangements all concluded, Mrs. Raleigh locked the door of the +room where the dead girl lay sleeping so peacefully, and turned to +go back to the drawing-room. But at that very moment the door-bell +rang, there was a brief pause in the spacious entrance-hall, then +the sweeping of silken skirts coming to the wing of the house where +the dead girl lay. Mrs. Raleigh started nervously. A moment later +she was face to face with Lenore Van Alstyne. Tall and slender, with +great, melancholy dark eyes, and a face of marble pallor, she was very +beautiful, and--you could read it at a glance--a woman who would die +for pride’s sake. Mrs. Raleigh could not control her surprise at sight +of her niece. + +“I heard that Noisette was dead,” began Lenore at once; “so I drove +around to see if I can do anything. Let me see her, Aunt Helen.” + +“Oh, my dear, it is not a pleasant sight. I--” + +Lenore’s haughty lip curled. + +“Death is seldom a pleasant sight, Aunt Helen!” she returned, coldly. +“I have always liked the girl; she was very unassuming, and certainly +industrious. Let me go in, Aunt Helen. See, I have brought her some +flowers--her favorite lilies.” + +So, though much against her will, Mrs. Raleigh unlocked the door, and +they entered the chamber of death, followed shortly by Rosamond. + +Lenore laid her lilies upon the open coffin, and then, moved by a +sudden impulse, sunk down upon her knees beside the dead girl. Silence +fell over all, and the moments passed, and still she knelt there. Mrs. +Raleigh turned to her daughter. + +“Rosamond, this is no place for you,” she began in a stage whisper; +but she stopped short in unfeigned surprise at sight of the look upon +Rosamond’s face. + +“Mamma,” drawing her mother aside and speaking in an almost inaudible +tone, lest their visitor should hear, “look! Did you ever see a more +perfect resemblance than those two faces? In life we never observed it, +but death brings the truth startlingly forward. Noisette is the very +image of Lenore!” + +“Nonsense! What absurdity, child! It is only one of those accidental +resemblances which one stumbles across very often. Ah! there; she is +going at last, thank Heaven! I shall never feel comfortable until that +body is out of the house,” she added, plaintively. + +The body was out of the house early the next morning, buried away with +scant ceremony, and soon forgotten. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Raleigh sat in her dainty boudoir a few days later. The reception +at Senator Van Alstyne’s was a thing of the past, but Rosamond had been +conspicuous by her absence. + +“If I can not wear the amber satin I will not go at all,” the willful +beauty had declared with an emphatic stamp of a small foot in a dainty +bronze slipper; “but I shall make capital out of this horrid affair. +Our set shall believe that I remained at home out of respect for my +protégée’s memory, and not because I was disappointed in my dress. +And I must find another girl in Noisette’s place--I believe I will +advertise for a companion.” + +And so she did--and fate decreed that this advertisement should +attract poor Lillian Leigh’s notice, and she resolved to apply for +the position. So Mrs. Raleigh, upon this particular morning of +which I write, was interviewing Lillian, who had ventured to call +at the Raleigh mansion in response to the advertisement. A slender, +black-robed figure, she looked like a mere child as she told her +pitiful story. + +“I want employment, madame,” she said, lifting her great, sad +brown eyes to the cold, high-bred face before her. “The old +work--type-writing--has failed me; and besides, I prefer to leave my +present home. I can not endure to remain among the old familiar scenes. +I wish to lead a retired life, and yet I have my own living to make.” + +A cold, critical glance swept the black-robed figure from head to foot, +then Mrs. Raleigh’s slow, languid voice observed: + +“You may make a trial of us, if you like. Of course we can not pay +much to a novice, but after a time you will receive a good salary.” + +So the arrangements were speedily completed, and for a pitifully +small sum Lillian Leigh agreed to act as “companion” to Miss Rosamond +Raleigh, little dreaming of what lay before her, and that fate was +leading her blindly on. Coming down the broad staircase, the first +evening of her life at the Raleigh mansion, Lillian came suddenly face +to face with a tall, dark, brigandish-looking man who had just entered +the house. One glance, and he fell back, clutching wildly at a carved +Gothic chair which stood near, his dark face grown pale as death. + +“Who are you?” he gasped. “Surely you are Gilbert Leigh’s daughter?” + +She bowed coldly. + +“I am Gilbert Leigh’s daughter!” she returned, in a dignified manner. + +He glanced furtively about him. There was no one in the hall--no one +within hearing, apparently. He caught her hand with a hasty gesture. + +“I must know you better, Miss Leigh,” he said, swiftly, his evil eye +studying every feature of the pale, indignant face. “I am Richard +Raleigh, only son and heir of the Raleighs,” he added, with a smile. + +As he spoke he drew his handkerchief from his pocket, and a card +fluttered with it to the floor. Lillian stooped and picked it up. It +was a small photograph, and--could it be possible?--it was a photograph +of her own face! Trembling like a leaf, she flashed indignantly upon +him. + +“How dare you!” she was beginning, wildly; but, checking her +agitation, she went on, swiftly: “Mr. Raleigh, where did you obtain +this photograph? I must know! It is one that my father carried in his +pocket. There can be no mistake. See, here are his initials, ‘G. L.,’ +on the back of the card. Mr. Richard Raleigh, I demand an answer. Where +did you get this picture?” + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +HAUNTED. + + +For just a moment Richard Raleigh quailed like a craven form before the +angry blast in those fearless dark eyes. + +“My dear young lady, you must be mad!” he cried, mockingly. “Ah, yes; +it is one that I picked up down-town in the office of the ‘Thunderer.’ +Jack Lyndon, one of the staff, had it. Seems that he was present when +your father’s body was found; the photograph fell from his pocket, and +Lyndon picked it up. I saw it, fell in love with it, begged Jack to +relinquish it, which he did; and so I have it. Are you satisfied, Miss +Leigh?” + +She was trembling like a reed in the wind, her brown eyes flashing like +fire at the insulting narrative. + +“I don’t believe a word of it,” she pouted at last. “Mr. Lyndon is a +gentleman--a true, noble-hearted, honorable gentleman! He was my best +friend when papa died--was murdered,” she added, bleakly. “Mr. Raleigh, +I don’t care what you say; you shall not slander Mr. Jack Lyndon in my +presence. He is the noblest man whom I have ever met.” + +“I thank you.” + +The girl turned swiftly about; she had not heard the street door open. +A tall form stood at her side; a pair of grave, kindly eyes gazed into +the girl’s excited face, as, hat in hand, Jack Lyndon bowed low before +Miss Raleigh’s companion, waiting-maid, and general factotum. + +“God bless you for your championship,” he added, softly. An angry light +overspread Richard Raleigh’s face, but he bowed with tolerable civility +as his eyes met Jack Lyndon’s. + +“Ah, good-evening, Lyndon,” he sneered. “May I inquire the nature of +the business which has conferred upon the house of Raleigh the honor of +your presence?” + +Jack’s handsome face flushed. + +“A note of invitation from Miss Rosamond Raleigh brings me here,” he +said, coldly. “It is a matter of small importance to me whether I +call or not, Mr. Raleigh, but a lady’s written request is not to be +neglected.” + +Lillian had slipped the photograph of her own face into her pocket, +and glided away to finish the errand which had brought her thither. +A little later, passing through the great hall once more, on her way +upstairs, she caught a glimpse of a pretty little tableau: Rosamond +Raleigh, in the music-room, seated at the grand piano, attired in +an artistic robe of white surah, with pink roses at her throat and +one half-open bud nestling in her dyed, blonde hair. She was most +artistically got up, and as the small, jeweled hands swept the white +keys, the big blue eyes were lifted, with a sweet, childish expression, +to the grave, handsome face of Jack Lyndon, as he stood beside the +instrument. What was Rosamond’s object in inviting him there? he +asked himself again and again. He was only a poor journalist; rapidly +rising in his profession, it is true, but not worthy to compare, in +point of wealth and position, with the daughter of Grafton Raleigh the +millionaire. And it never once occurred to Jack that the proud, haughty +society woman might have found a heart beating under her silken bodice, +even as Undine found her soul. + +Lillian, passing through the hall, saw the couple at the piano, for the +door was open, and a strange pang shot through her heart as she passed +hastily upstairs to attend to her duties. There were guests invited to +the Raleigh mansion that night, and Jack had found himself included in +the invitations, while, much to his surprise, the tiny scented note +contained a P.S., carefully underscored: + + “Please come very early. Say at eight.” + +And, wondering greatly, he had obeyed her. + +He found Miss Raleigh awaiting him. + +“Senator and Mrs. Van Alstyne will look in at our reception to-night,” +she announced. “You know that Mrs. Van Alstyne is my cousin? I thought +that you might like to describe her costume when you write up our +reception for to-morrow’s paper,” with a little laugh. + +Jack bowed and smiled his thanks, and then the door-bell rang, and the +first arrival was announced. + +Who that saw Lenore Van Alstyne that night will ever forget her? She +wore a trailing robe of shimmering pink satin, with a V-shaped corsage +draped with costly white lace and a great cluster of snow-white +marguerites. Not a jewel did she wear, not even a flower in the massive +coils of silky dark hair. She was adorned by her own stately beauty and +gracious sweetness--jewels which no money can purchase. + +It was a grand affair, though only a small party, for Rosamond disliked +a crowd. The evening wore away--that evening during which Miss Raleigh +devoted herself to the entertainment of Jack Lyndon as sedulously as, +in her character of hostess, she dare venture. + +Late in the evening Rosamond went upstairs to the pretty octagonal +room which adjoined her own chamber to get a small painting which Jack +Lyndon had expressed a desire to see and with which she would not trust +a servant. She was smiling softly to herself as she ran lightly up the +stairs and laid her hand upon the silver door-knob of the little room +where poor Noisette had passed so many lonely hours, and--yes, where +she had died. + +A strange chill crept over Rosamond Raleigh’s heart at the +recollection, and the smile faded from her lips. + +The door swung slowly open, and she crossed the threshold. She started +back with a low, frightened cry. Some one had extinguished the gas; +but the moonlight streaming in at the window, whose shade was not +yet drawn, revealed the interior of the pretty room, and rested in +a pearly pathway of light upon the figure seated at the window--the +childish little figure, with a pathetic droop to the small head, bent, +as usual, over the painting materials. An awful horror crept over the +fashionable beauty as she stood there. + +How still everything was! The room was too far removed from the +drawing-rooms below for any sound of mirth and revelry to reach it. +Sometimes a quivering, wailing burst of music, sobbing itself into +silence, floated up the staircase, and made a ghostly echo in the room, +where--She glanced once more toward that pathetic little figure bending +over the painting, and Rosamond realized, with a shiver of horror, that +it was no living creature upon which she gazed. An inarticulate cry +passed her lips, as she ventured a little nearer. Was it Noisette’s +spirit which sat there in the moonlight, working out the hard task? +Rosamond saw that the shadowy fingers which grasped the brush were +painting away at the amber satin panel. Painting--painting! but never +to finish. The strokes of the brush up and down left no trace; the +panel was just as Noisette had left it when death had called her, +when the brush had fallen from her nerveless grasp, leaving the big +red stain that looked like heart’s blood. Trembling, gasping for +breath, Miss Raleigh turned and fled from the haunted room. She was +no weak-minded, hysterical girl, to go in nervous spasms over a sight +which she well knew she could never convince the world that she had +witnessed. She fled precipitately, however, nor paused to take breath +until she found herself down in the brilliantly lighted drawing-room +once more, and explaining, in a breathless, laughing, altogether +charming fashion, that the picture must be mislaid, for certainly +it was not to be found. And no one but her mother observed the set +expression that had dawned upon her face, and the look of nameless +terror in her eyes. + +“Miss Rosamond!” + +She glanced up with a start, to see a tall, liveried footman standing +at her side. + +“I don’t like to trouble you,” he went on, hesitatingly, “but it’s an +old woman who will not be denied. She is down in the housekeeper’s +room, and if you wouldn’t mind seeing her a moment, Miss Rosamond--” + +With a haughty gesture, Rosamond waved him aside. A little later +she was standing in the housekeeper’s cozy sitting-room, before a +snowy-haired, wrinkled old woman with mild black eyes. She was bent +nearly double over the heavy oaken staff which she clutched with two +skinny hands; but at sound of the opening door, and the swish! swish! +of silken drapery, she lifted her head, and her bold, black eyes met +the glance of interrogation in Miss Raleigh’s cold blue orbs. + +“What do you want?” she demanded, sharply. + +The old crone bowed humbly. + +“I am told that you have guests here to-night, Miss Raleigh,” she +began, in a low tone. “I am a dabbler in the occult and mysterious--I +am a clairvoyant. I can read the future, unmask the present, and,” with +an upward glance of her great black eyes, “expose the secrets of the +past. Don’t look so incredulous, lady--I can do it!” + +“What do you want?” demanded Rosamond, haughtily. + +“Permission to exhibit my strange powers before your guests,” returned +the woman, promptly. “I am very old, and it is my only means of earning +a livelihood. Let me go into your drawing-room, and I promise to +surprise and astound you. Stay a moment, lady. Is there any one present +whom you dislike--whom you hate?” + +Rosamond’s eyes glittered. + +“There is. Ah, if you could unmask her, if you could show me her past +and expose her secret, so carefully guarded, I would make you rich for +life!” + +The old woman bent her head, and her lips moved as though speaking, yet +she uttered no word. + +“Come!” said Rosamond, moved by a sudden impulse. “I will give you +permission to exhibit your powers. But if there is any villainy hidden +under it all, if you have a sinister object in coming here to-night, I +will have you punished to the full extent of the law.” + +The old woman’s eyes twinkled. + +“Trust me, lady. You will never regret it,” she returned. Low under her +breath she was muttering to herself in a broken, disjointed way, as she +followed Miss Raleigh to the drawing-room: + +“At last! At last! The hour for which I have longed is here! Oh, to see +her once again--to--” + +They had reached the drawing-room door. A few words of explanation, and +all the company gathered in eager excitement about the old woman, who +had sunk into a low seat and sat as still as a statue. At last: + +“Murdered!” she cried, in a shrill voice, which penetrated to every +corner. “Murdered! Poor Gilbert Leigh! My friends, the guilty wretch +who took that old man’s life is present within this very room.” + +There was a stifled shriek, followed by a heavy fall; the gas-lights +had gone out suddenly, leaving the great room in darkness, and an awful +silence settled over the scene. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +APRES! + +Some one lighted the gas in a moment, and its yellow rays revealed a +pale-faced, terrified group. Lillian, who had been sent to bring Mrs. +Raleigh a fan, was standing in the open door of the library, pale as +marble, one hand clutching the white satin fan with its delicate spray +of wild roses, the handiwork of the girl who had gone to her long rest +such a short time before; the other hand, cold and trembling, pressed +tightly over her wildly throbbing heart; her big, dark eyes, dilated +with horror, fixed blankly before her. Richard Raleigh crouched in a +corner, glaring about him like a wild beast suddenly brought to bay, +and prone upon the velvet-carpeted floor Lenore Van Alstyne lay in a +dead swoon, and the old woman--fortune-teller or whatever she might +be--had disappeared. + +For a few moments everybody stood staring helplessly about them, too +overcome by the shock of the surprise--the audacity of the affair--to +collect their scattered faculties. + +With a muttered execration, Richard Raleigh strode over to the door and +caught Lillian by the arm. + +“You are responsible for all this jugglery!” he hissed, his angry black +eyes devouring the pale face of the shrinking girl. “You are to blame, +Lillian Leigh, and rest assured that you shall suffer for it!” + +The stately little head was crested proudly, and the dark, flashing +eyes gave him back scorn for scorn. + +“Take your hand from my arm, Mr. Raleigh!” the low, level voice +commanded, calmly. “How dare you touch me? And as for your insulting +words, you shall answer for them! My father--” + +Good heavens! what had she been about to say? It came home to her, with +a sharp, keen pang of bitter memory, that she who had never before been +separated from her father, her protector and defender, was all alone. +She had no father now--never any more! She had been so accustomed to +look to him for help, for love, for protection, that for a brief moment +she had lost sight of the cruel truth. Her heart turned to her father +as the sunflower turns to the sun--and--she had no father now! With +one swift, lightning stroke of memory the poor girl came back to the +consciousness of her loss--that bitter, irretrievable loss--and she +saw the blank, empty future stretched out before her eyes--without her +father! Ah! cruel, cruel fate! To be bereft of his tender care--his +loving words of counsel--his kindly guidance! + +For just a moment the orphan girl forgot even Richard Raleigh’s dreaded +presence, as the full knowledge of her desolation rushed over her +heart like a swirling flood. But still Richard Raleigh gazed with bold +eyes into her face, and still the stern, dark hand, crowned with a +glittering diamond, clutched the girl’s white arm. + +“Let go my arm, sir!” she commanded once more, in a low, scornful tone. +“How dare you insult me?” + +“Mr. Raleigh will be good enough to obey this lady’s command!” said a +cool, low voice close by, and Lillian, turning swiftly, saw Jack Lyndon +at her side. Not another word; but Raleigh’s grasp relaxed, and he +loosened his hold; then, with a sneer, he turned upon his heel and left +the room. + +There was a great deal of excitement over Lenore, and, therefore, +this scene had been almost unobserved. Senator Van Alstyne bustled +forward, and lifting his wife’s graceful form as though she had been +an infant, placed her carefully upon a sofa, while a group of pale, +excited people gathered around, and restoratives were brought. But one +pair of eyes had watched the scene between Lillian and Jack Lyndon--one +pair of steely orbs, glinting now with anger too deep for words--and a +white-robed figure, which hovered ever in the vicinity of Jack Lyndon, +was trembling with excitement and jealous wrath. + +“I will send that girl away to-morrow as surely as I live,” muttered +Rosamond, low under her breath. “I will not be tormented by the sight +of her any longer. And yet,” with a strange sinking of the heart, or +“the muscular viscus” which did duty for that organ with Miss Rosamond +Raleigh--“it would be just my luck to have Jack Lyndon fall desperately +in love with her and marry her if I were to send her away--cast her +adrift without a home. Oh, dear! was any woman ever so tormented +before? First, I must lose my waiting-maid--ugh! I can’t get Noisette +out of my mind!--and now Lillian gives me trouble. First one maid and +then the other. One thing certain, and upon that point I shall be +adamant hereafter: Lillian Leigh shall not be allowed to show herself +among my guests. What evil genius sent her here at this particular +juncture? Oh, yes!” catching sight of the white satin toy in the girl’s +trembling hand, “mamma’s fan! It is the very last fan that Noisette +painted. Ugh! there it is again. I can not forget for a moment. And now +I think that Mr. Lyndon has had quite enough to say to my servant. I +intend to put a stop to it.” + +She glided swiftly over to the retired corner near the door where +Lillian stood, while Jack Lyndon bent his handsome head and spoke +in low, eager tones. He was learning the reason for her sudden and +unexpected appearance at the Raleigh mansion. + +“It is no place for you, Miss Leigh,” he said, gravely; “we must try to +find you more suitable employment; and--and (pardon me, but I can not +refrain from a few words of warning) it is better for you not to remain +longer under the same roof with--” + +“Lillian!” Miss Raleigh’s sharp, cutting voice broke in upon his +low-spoken words with a suddenness that made her start. “What are +you doing here? Don’t you see that mamma is suffering--absolutely +suffering--for a fan? Go give it to her; and then,” in a low tone, “go +up to my room and stay there!” + +Lillian bowed. Well, of course Miss Raleigh was right. It was not +Lillian’s place to stand among Miss Raleigh’s select and fashionable +guests; she--a hired companion--waiting-maid--upper servant! + +With a grateful “I thank you for your kindness, Mr. Lyndon,” Lillian +glided away, leaving Rosamond, nothing loath, to take the place at Jack +Lyndon’s side which she had just vacated. + +“How annoying and unpleasant it is, Mr. Lyndon, to be troubled with +servants who are above their stations, and who, in common parlance, +‘have seen better days.’ Now that girl really knows nothing of the +duties and proprieties of her position here; and I want to be kind +and gentle with her, yet I must be firm, and I fear that I have a +disagreeable task before me. For it is so difficult to train such +people without wounding their sensibilities; and when they once imagine +themselves slighted or insulted, there is no hope of doing anything +with them. And so,” with a pretty deprecatory gesture of the small +gloved hands, “you see how it is.” + +It was a slightly ambiguous speech, but it had its own effect. Jack’s +conscience gave a queer little twinge of remorse. + +He had been too hard in thought upon Miss Raleigh--too hard and stern, +after all. She meant well--she did the best that she knew. And hers had +been but a superficial and artificial education, a life without aim +or object, an empty fashionable career, with only the false lights of +pleasure and worldly amusements to lure her on. + +How vapid and unsatisfying it must be. And he little dreamed--this +grave young knight of the quill--that that same life of fashionable +dissipation was Rosamond Raleigh’s highest ideal, filled every vacant +corner of her heart, was, in fact, the only existence for which she +cared, or which it was possible for her to know and be content. His +grave eyes met her appealing glance kindly, and his voice took on a +gentler tone as he returned: + +“You have my sympathy in your grievous trials, my dear Miss Raleigh!” + +A low cry resounded through the room and startled the two. Lenore had +opened her eyes and returned to consciousness. She was struggling +and panting and gasping for breath, her eyes--beautiful dreamy dark +eyes--were dilated with horror; the small, cold hands were tearing +wildly at the frosty white lace upon her breast, and she looked like +one distraught. + +“Take me away! take me away!” she panted, feebly. “Oh, Van!” +burying her pale face upon the black coat-sleeve of the pompous +senator--“has--has he gone?” + +Van Alstyne bent his head and gazed into his wife’s frightened face +with eyes full of undisguised wonder. He was coarse and red faced and +hard featured, with small, ferret-like eyes and iron-gray hair and +beard. + +“Lenore!” in a deprecatory tone, “whom do you mean, dear? Don’t you +remember you were frightened by an old woman--witch--beldame--whom +your cousin Rosamond saw fit to introduce among her select guests. By +Jove!” with a fierce assumption of dignity, “it has come to a pretty +pass indeed if a man is compelled to meet such trash at the very first +houses! Lenore, try to be calm. There is nothing to fear, you have had +a fright--a foolish fright--followed by a fainting fit, which latter +I must say does not surprise me. My dear, I never knew you to faint +before but once,” he added, briefly, with a significant glance which +brought the red blood to her pale cheek. + +Ah, yes! she remembered that other swoon. Heaven knows she had reason +to remember it. It had occurred at her own marriage. In memory she saw +it all--went through the same scene once more. The brilliantly lighted +church; the gay, glittering crowd; the bridal procession, with the +bride, whiter than death itself, leaning upon the arm of the pompous +bridegroom, while they made their triumphal exit from the sacred +edifice, out to the long line of waiting carriages drawn up beside the +curb; the crowd in the street without surging, swaying to and fro; +and above all others one face--a face which appeared amid the throng, +gazing upon her with great dark eyes full of mute reproach. One swift +instant their eyes had met, and like one suddenly stricken dead, the +bride fell to the pavement. + +It all came back to her now in a swift, hurried flash; then there was +a sudden transformation scene. Lenore Van Alstyne started to her feet. +She looked like a galvanized corpse, but the pale lips shut themselves +down closely, and the white hands clinched and unclinched each other +fiercely; and then a light silvery laugh rang out, and she turned to +the watching, lynx-eyed man at her side. + +“Come, let us dance! Rosamond said that we should have the lancers, and +now is as good a time as any. Waltz, did you say, Captain Burnham?” as +a tall, soldierly man bowed before her with a few low, eager words. +“Ah, pray excuse me from that. I am not very strong. My foolish nerves +have played me a sad trick, and I do not feel equal to a waltz. But +the lancers--I shall be delighted. Rosamond, _ma cousine_, where is +the music?” turning as she spoke with a light laugh to meet Rosamond’s +astonished gaze, as she still conversed with Jack Lyndon. + +“Surely you are not able to dance, Lenore,” she was beginning; but Mrs. +Van Alstyne cut the remonstrance short. + +“Nonsense!” she cried, lightly. + +And then Jack Lyndon found himself offering his arm to Miss Raleigh, +and the business of dancing the lancers was begun. + +But everything comes to an end sooner or later, and at last the +reception was over; and Jack Lyndon, feeling very much as though he +were awaking from an unusually fanciful dream, found himself on his way +home, holding in his memory the half-whispered words of the heiress, +Miss Raleigh: + +“Don’t forget the opera to-morrow night! Call early, Jack--I beg your +pardon--Mr. Lyndon,” a swift crimson tingeing her cheek. + +After which he could not fail to catch a glimmer of the light of truth, +and open his sleepy eyes to the suspicion that the cold, statuesque +Miss Raleigh was really becoming interested in the poor journalist. + +“Poor little Lillian!” was all that he said--and that certainly seems +a strange remark to make, when we consider that Miss Raleigh was the +object of his thoughts. + +And at that very hour, in the Van Alstynes’ spacious mansion, Lenore +was pacing up and down her own room, its door securely locked against +intruders, her face pale as marble, all assumed gayety vanished, one +hand clutching at her heart, as she murmured, brokenly: + +“It must be--it must be true. It was his voice--I would know it +anywhere. Oh! may Heaven have pity and let me die, for I am the most +miserable woman in the whole world!” + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +JACK STRIKES A BLOW. + + +“Well! Miss Lillian Leigh!” + +Lillian glanced up with a start at sound of that voice--or was it the +hiss of a serpent?--and her pale face flushed a little as she arose +to her feet. It was in Miss Raleigh’s sleeping-room, and she had +been dreaming over the fire, awaiting the coming of her tyrannical +task-mistress, and while she sat there these thoughts had been flitting +through her brain: + +“I wonder what was the matter to-night? Just as I was about to open +the library door, when I went to carry Mrs. Raleigh’s fan, it opened +suddenly from within, and a strange, weird-looking old woman rushed +out, flew down the hall, and was out of the front door and gone before +I could recover my breath. And there were the library lights all +extinguished; and Mrs. Van Alstyne--that pale, proud-looking lady--had +fainted dead away. And Miss Raleigh looked so overcome with terror! It +must have been some very unusual excitement; but, of course, I dared +ask no questions, and it is no concern of mine. I am afraid of Mr. +Richard Raleigh,” she went on, after a brief pause, her busy brain full +of the late strange occurrences, “and but for Mr. Lyndon he might have +said more. I must avoid Mr. Raleigh as much as possible. How good Mr. +Lyndon is--so noble, so kind! I wonder--I wonder if he cares for Miss +Rosamond? And how she smiles upon him! I should think that--” + +And then that shrill, high-pitched voice had broken in upon the girl’s +reverie, calling her name in a tone of authority. + +“Get up, you lazy creature! Why have you not a chair before the fire +all ready for me when I come in, as--as my other maid used to do? +Here, I enter my room tired to death, and the hour late, and I find my +maid--my--maid,” with inexpressible scorn in the cutting voice, “seated +before my fire without a thought of my comfort. How dare you?” + +Lillian stood still, quite overcome by this tirade; then she made haste +to wheel the chair which she had just vacated closer to the fire. + +“I--I beg you pardon, Miss Raleigh,” she said, quietly. “I did not mean +to do anything wrong. I am tired, and as you told me to wait for you, I +naturally sat before the fire this cold night.” + +With awful dignity Miss Raleigh motioned the chair aside. + +“Get me another!” she commanded, insolently. “I do not care for a seat +which my servant occupies.” + +The red blood crimsoned Lillian’s pale face, and her beautiful brown +eyes flashed. But she compressed her lips firmly, and brought another +chair, into which Miss Raleigh sunk with an air of intense fatigue. + +“I am tired to death!” she exclaimed, savagely. “Come and take my hair +down, and brush it thoroughly. I am accustomed to having it brushed +every night for at least an hour before I retire!” + +Poor Lillian glanced at the clock ticking away upon the velvet-draped +bracket near. The hands pointed to the hour of two. + +Rosamond laughed disdainfully at sight of the consternation upon +Lillian’s face. + +“Oh! you will soon find that you must keep all sorts of hours if you +remain in my employ, Miss Lillian Leigh!” she sneered, coarsely. “I +always make my waiting-maid earn her salary, you may well believe! +Whoever fills that position must earn the money, though the effort +should cost her her life. Ah! what is that?” + +The ivory-backed brush trembled in Lillian’s grasp as she stood with +uplifted hand, the rosy fire-light flashing up painted a vivid red +spot upon Rosamond Raleigh’s pale cheek; then the flame sunk down into +feathery ashes once more. A sound had fallen upon their ears plainly, +distinctly; it was a low, hollow groan! Trembling like a leaf Miss +Raleigh started to her feet. Her long hair fell over her shoulders in +a streaming golden shower; she looked unearthly in the loose white +wrapper which she had already donned. Pale, and shaking like an aspen, +she went over to the door of the little octagonal room, and threw it +open wide. + +“Lillian, come here!” she commanded; and slowly and wonderingly Lillian +obeyed. “Go into that room,” continued Miss Raleigh, authoritatively, +“and see if there is anybody hidden there! Look behind the curtains and +furniture; leave nothing unsearched.” + +Wondering greatly, Lillian lighted a small bronze lamp which stood upon +a bracket, and slowly and hesitatingly she entered the little room. She +returned, after a brief absence, very pale and grave. + +“There is no one there, Miss Raleigh,” she announced, placing the lamp +upon a marble table near. + +“Come with me!” + +Rosamond snatched up the lamp and forced her trembling slave to follow +her back into the little room once more. Everything was just as it +had been left that day when they had carried something away from +it--something stark and stiff and white, something which would never +come back again--would never come back. Would it not? + +Rosamond Raleigh’s memory was a good one; she shivered involuntarily. +With mad haste she explored every corner of the room; peering behind +furniture, lifting silken curtains, leaving no chance for any human +being to remain concealed. Then she left the room and locked the door +behind her; after which she extinguished the lamp and threw herself +into the easy-chair once more. + +“Brush my hair!” she commanded, ungraciously. “I am half dead with +fatigue.” + +And there poor Lillian stood for a whole mortal hour, brushing out the +beauty’s shining, silken hair until her brain reeled, and her cold hand +shook so that she could scarcely move the brush, and the white lids +began to droop over the weary eyes, while the cat-like orbs of her +cruel task-mistress seemed never to court slumber. At last, in sheer +exhaustion, Lillian came to a halt. + +“Miss Raleigh, excuse me to-night, will you not?” she pleaded. “I am +not accustomed to such late hours, and I have been through a great deal +to-day, and am so tired that I can scarcely stand.” + +Rosamond snatched the brush from her hand and threw it across the room +in a childish outburst of temper. + +“Go!” she cried, stamping her foot savagely. “I see plainly the sort of +a maid you will make!” + +Pale and resolute, Lillian faced the woman before her. + +“Miss Raleigh, will you please bear in mind that I did not apply for +the position of waiting-maid? Your advertisement said a companion; +and I, of course, believed that my duties would be simply those of a +companion--to read to you, sew, sing and play if you desired it, write, +go errands--all such light duties. But to dress and undress you, to +keep the fire burning in your room indefinitely, and to stand and brush +your hair all night long, I must confess my inability to cope with all +that. I am young and not very strong. I have never worked before in my +life--only a little type-writing, and my health would soon break down +under such endless work as this, which keeps a girl employed all day +and all night, too. Good-morning, Miss Raleigh; the clock is about to +strike three. I beg leave to retire.” + +Rosamond gathered up her mass of shining hair and secured it for the +night. + +“Very well,” her steely eyes fixed upon the girl with cold disdain, “we +will speak further upon this subject in the morning. After to-night I +intend to have you sleep in the little round room next to mine. I am +lonely here in the wing of the house away from every one else.” + +“Very well.” + +Lillian grew deathly pale. She had heard the story of the round room +hinted at by the servants, even during her brief sojourn at the Raleigh +mansion, and she was afraid--afraid. For she was timid, and the +whispers in the servants’ quarters hinted at a dark deed. + +But, glad to escape from her task-mistress, she hastened away to the +little room which had been assigned her, at the furthest end of the +hall, and hastily retiring, the friendless orphan girl was soon fast +asleep. And in dreams she was no longer poor, and alone, and forsaken; +but happy as mortals are never happy upon this earth--only in dreams. + + “Only in dreams is a ladder thrown + From the lonely earth to the vaulted skies; + But the dream departs, and the vision flies, + And the sleeper awakes on his pillow of stone.” + +The next day passed quite uneventfully. Rosamond had compromised with +Lillian, retaining her as general factotum, on condition that she +should not be compulsively detained from her rest after midnight. So +night came down once more, and Rosamond, in her sumptuous apartment, +was preparing to attend the opera. + +“I will wear blue silk and pearls!” she announced. “Mamma and I are +going to hear ‘Il Trovatore’ with Mr. Lyndon. He is quite the fashion +now, so I venture to go with him, although of course he is not in our +set, and is only a poor journalist. And--oh, yes, Lillian, before it +gets too late, I want you to run down to the greenhouse--the one away +at the further end of the grounds--and tell Barnes, the gardener, to +send me a bouquet of pink rosebuds. Make haste now, for I don’t like to +be kept waiting.” + +To hear was to obey. Lillian made haste to do so. Five minutes later +she was standing at the entrance to the long greenhouse, dimly lighted +by a hanging lamp, and lying like a great dark shadow athwart the dusk +of early night. She peered eagerly through the gloom. + +“Barnes!” she called, timidly, “Miss Raleigh has sent me to--” + +An arm stole around her waist, and a slim, dark hand crowned by a +flashing diamond closed down upon Lillian’s hand, while Richard +Raleigh’s silky voice cried: + +“Ah! my pretty wild bird--caged at last!” + +With a wild cry Lillian wrenched herself away from his hold, her face +pale, her eyes blazing. + +“How dare you?” she gasped, brokenly. + +And at that very instant her quick eyes caught sight of a tall form +hastening through the grounds, and she called, wildly: + +“Barnes, is it you? Oh, come--quick--help!” + +With a muttered oath, Raleigh had grasped her arm once more, and held +her fast, trying to calm her wild outcries. + +The tall figure turned swiftly and hurried footsteps reached her side. +Not Barnes the gardener, but tall, handsome Jack Lyndon, who had heard +her frenzied cry, and had come to the rescue. + +“Mr. Raleigh, unhand that lady!” a low voice panted, furiously, “or, by +Heaven! you cowardly dog, I will kill you!” + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +IN THE ROUND ROOM. + + +For a moment, awful silence, while the two men stood glaring at each +other with eyes full of hatred and defiance. Richard Raleigh was the +first to speak. + +“Ha! Our doughty friend of the ‘Thunderer!’ Sir Knight of the Quill and +Paste-pot, whose coat of arms is two pens crossed upon a background +of inky paper! Mr. Jack Lyndon,” growing more and more furious, “you +deserve to be punished for this audacity, and taught to know your +place.” + +“I have a mind to horsewhip you as I would a vicious dog!” stormed +Jack, his tall form trembling with excitement, his strong hands +clinching and unclinching themselves, as though longing to strike his +opponent down at his feet. + +“I never fight my inferiors!” snarled Raleigh, with cutting sarcasm. + +“You have no inferiors outside the brute creation!” returned Jack, with +stinging contempt. “By Jove!” turning with sudden energy, as Raleigh, +impelled by devilish malice, caught Lillian by the arm once more in a +rude grasp. + +There was silence for half a second, broken by the sound of a heavy +blow, followed by a sickening thud as Raleigh’s tall form swayed +heavily forward and fell into a clump of shrubbery which grew near. + +“Oh, Mr. Lyndon!” Lillian’s voice pealed forth in wild terror, “you +have killed him!” + +Jack stooped over the prostrate form, his face pale and still, in his +handsome dark eyes a look that was bad to see. + +“No danger of that,” he muttered, angrily, for Jack Lyndon’s temper, +usually well under control, was now at white heat. “Such creatures are +not so easily exterminated. Miss Leigh, I beg your pardon, but it was +hardly prudent for you to venture out here alone so late.” + +“Miss Raleigh sent me for a bouquet of pink rosebuds,” she returned. “I +never dreamed of meeting Mr. Raleigh!” she added, innocently. + +Jack’s face darkened. + +“I should think not, indeed!” he panted. “Do not trouble about the +flowers, Miss Leigh. I have already sent a bouquet to Miss Raleigh, +which I imagine will prove satisfactory. Come, let me accompany you +back to the house. That fellow yonder is recovering consciousness, and +I do not care to have any further argument with him.” + +Richard Raleigh, with slow and painful effort, was rising to his feet. +Jack drew Lillian’s trembling hand through his arm and led her away. It +was some distance back to the house; and at length, in a secluded nook, +where trailing rose-vines, half denuded of their leaves, still clung to +a tiny summer-house, Jack Lyndon paused. + +“Lillian!”--in a tone of alarm--“Miss Leigh, you are ill, fainting!” he +exclaimed. “Oh, my darling--my darling, let me stand between you and +the storms of life! You are too dainty and delicate to meet the adverse +winds of fate, and battle alone and single-handed. Let me--” + +“Lillian!” + +A shrill, high-pitched voice broke in upon his eager words with cold +disapproval. + +“Lillian Leigh! Good heavens! is it possible?” + +And Miss Raleigh, with a white burnoose wrapped about her, and the long +silken train of her azure robe flung carefully across her arm, appeared +suddenly before them, like Banquo’s ghost--and quite as unexpected. + +“Can it be possible”--in a grave, sweet, reproachful tone, which no one +knew better than Rosamond Raleigh when and how to assume--“Lillian, +whom I had believed immaculate, flirting out under the trees this +wintery night, with--Why!”--with an affected start and a little +shriek--“if it isn’t Mr. Lyndon! Why, Mr. Lyndon, how you startled me! +I did not expect to find you here with my maid!” + +There was a world of cruel significance in the sharp, cutting voice, +which made Jack Lyndon gnash his teeth. + +“By Jove!” he muttered under his breath, “a man has to endure unlimited +insults from a woman, simply because she _is_ a woman, when ten to one +if they do not deserve--” + +Whatever it was which, according to Mr. Jack Lyndon, the weaker sex +deserved, was destined never to be known. He had dropped Lillian’s +hand, feeling the unpleasantness of her position, and longing to spare +her all that he could. Pale and grave, he turned to Rosamond. + +“Miss Raleigh!”--in a low voice, his eyes upon the pearl-powdered and +daintily rouged face plainly revealed by the moonlight--“I entered your +grounds through the side gate--the shorter way which you pointed out to +me. I was on my way to the house, and _you_, when I heard a scream--a +woman’s voice in wild alarm, calling for _help_! I hastened to the spot +and found Miss Leigh at the very door of the greenhouse, in the grasp +of a ruffian!” + +“Mr. Lyndon! Upon _our_ grounds? Grafton Raleigh’s private grounds?” in +an awe-stricken tone. + +Jack smiled. “Even upon Mr. Grafton Raleigh’s sacred premises, my dear +Miss Rosamond, the glaring insult was perpetrated. And the perpetrator +was your own brother, Richard Raleigh!” + +“Mr. Lyndon!” + +“It is true, Miss Raleigh, I assure you. And--I must confess--I was so +angry that I--knocked him down!” + +“You did?” her eyes flashing wickedly. “Well, I am sure that he +deserved it! I have sometimes felt an insane desire myself to knock +Rick down! He is so exasperating! But now you have done it for me!” + +“Oh, no! I did it to rescue Miss Leigh--as her knight-errant! And +although I am sorry to be upon such terms with _your_ brother, Miss +Raleigh, I could not stand quietly by and see a lady insulted--above +all things, the lady who--” + +“Lillian, go into the house!” cut in Miss Raleigh, sharply. “You need +not be afraid to go alone! Have my opera-cloak, fan and gloves all +ready by the time I reach the house. Mr. Lyndon, I have to thank you +for that exquisite bouquet!” she added, laying a white hand upon his +arm and lifting a radiant face to his. Impelled by an irresistible +impulse, Jack bent his head and kissed the dainty fingers which rested +upon his sleeve. A flush of triumph shot through Rosamond’s cheek, her +heart leaped and bounded like a mad thing. + +“He cares for me! I verily believe it!” she whispered to herself. “And +I don’t see how he could help it! He ought to be proud and elated at +winning the favor of Grafton Raleigh’s only daughter! As for that sly +little minx, Lillian Leigh, I will get rid of her before many days!” + +And then, leaning upon Jack Lyndon’s arm, she went slowly back to +the house where mamma, in lavender brocade and diamonds, awaited her +coming. If Jack had hoped to catch a glimpse of Lillian, or to breathe +a few whispered words into her ear, he was grievously disappointed, for +he saw her no more. + +Upstairs in Miss Raleigh’s chamber Lillian heard the sound of the +carriage-wheels as the carriage drove away to the opera. + +“Why am I so different from other girls?” she asked herself; “I am +young, well educated, not bad looking”--her eyes wandered over to the +great mirror which had so often reflected Miss Raleigh’s features--“and +I--I _do_ care for Mr. Lyndon. He is so noble and good; how could any +one help caring for him? And she,” with a sharp sting of jealous pain +stirring blindly in her heart, “_she_ likes him, I can see that, though +he is poor and she the daughter of a millionaire!” + +And then a pause of silence, after which Lillian started to her feet +with a little cry of remorse. + +“I am not pleasing papa,” she cried, her eyes full of tears; “he would +like me to keep up my studies, and I have been neglectful. I will get +my books and look over my French and German. When Miss Raleigh comes I +will not be so tired.” + +When Miss Raleigh came the midnight chimes had long been rung. She +entered the room, her face full of displeasure. Jack Lyndon had been +all that a gentleman--an admirer--should be that evening; but when he +bade her good-night he had asked permission to speak a few words in +private with Miss Leigh the next morning. “Something of importance to +communicate,” he had said. Rosamond Raleigh marched straight to her own +room and opened its door. Trembling with wrath, she stalked into her +sleeping apartment. + +“Lillian Leigh”--her voice was loud and shrill--“your conduct is +disgraceful in the extreme! You have been the occasion of an insult--a +gross insult to my brother--_my_ brother; do you understand me? _You_, +a common servant-girl! I will have you punished as you deserve! I will +disgrace you--ruin you forever--so help me Heaven, I will!” + +“Miss Raleigh!” + +Lillian’s voice, cold and clear, broke in upon her mad ravings. + +“I have done no wrong--no intentional harm! If your brother is not a +gentleman, and forgets the respect due a lady, I am not responsible. +And Mr. Lyndon said--” + +“Don’t mention his name!” stormed Rosamond. “He has been making light +of you to me to-night--laughed at you, made sport of you. He says that +you threw yourself in his way!” + +“Miss Raleigh, I do not believe you! I do not believe a word that you +say. Mr. Lyndon is a gentleman.” + +“You--don’t--believe me?” panted Rosamond--“don’t--believe _me_? Take +that--and that, you beggar!” bringing her hand down with all its sharp, +glittering rings across Lillian’s pale cheeks in a shower of stinging +blows. “You shall go into the round room and sleep upon the sofa!” +raved Miss Raleigh. “To-morrow your bed shall be brought there!” + +She unlocked the door of communication between the two rooms, and +dragging Lillian after her by the arm, too overcome by the insults +which had been heaped upon her to utter a word, she entered the round +room. Moonlight streamed in at the window--or was it moonlight? No; +the shade was closely drawn; but a soft, clear radiance was diffused +through the room. And there, in its old place at the window, sat a +slight, drooping figure--a thin, attenuated form--while the shadowy +fingers were painting--painting away at an amber satin panel--a task +that was never done, that would never be done! And the strange, soft +light which shone throughout the apartment disclosed the features of +the dead Noisette. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +ROSAMOND SPEAKS HER MIND. + + +Full of blank, wordless horror, Rosamond stood staring into the +startled face of her companion, too terrified to move from the spot and +shut out the awful scene. + +And still the girlish figure at the window of the round room bent over +its never-ending task; still the shadowy fingers wielded the brush, +and the scarlet poppies and graceful vine tendrils grew beneath that +ghostly touch upon the amber satin--grew and blossomed into artistic +beauty, but never done--never to be done. + +Shivering all over, like one with an ague, Rosamond Raleigh clutched +the arm of her waiting-maid. + +“Lillian!”--her teeth chattering like castanets as she attempted to +speak--“it is Noisette, the girl who--who--died in this room two +weeks ago! It is she; there is no mistake about it; no freak of the +imagination, no fancy. It is Noisette Duval, the little French girl +whom I took from the orphan asylum and treated like a sister. We gave +her a home--a good home, only receiving in return her services as my +maid, and stipulating that she should spend her spare time in painting +little things--fans, sashes, dress panels, and such trifles. I was +always kind to her, as kind as any one could be!” + +Miss Raleigh came to a halt. It seemed to her as those words--those +false, wicked words--passed her lips that a hand was laid upon her +shoulder--a firm, detaining hand--which gripped the soft white flesh +with a merciless clutch. Trembling violently, she burst into a flood of +hysterical tears, sinking down upon the velvet-covered floor, with her +white face buried in her cold, shaking hands. + +“Oh, Lillian, I am haunted! I am haunted!” she sobbed, brokenly, at +last. “I know it, I feel it! Whenever I enter this room I see her--see +her sitting there at the window painting, painting away, with that +dejected look upon her face so thin and wan and so unearthly white. Oh, +Lillian! what shall I do?” + +A strange courage, born of desperation, seemed to take possession of +Lillian Leigh’s heart. She glanced fearfully in at the open door of the +round room, then with a swift movement she crossed its threshold and +entered the room. + +Straight up to the window, looking neither to the right nor to +the left, went Lillian. Her heart beat wildly, throbbing like a +sledge-hammer in her frightened ears; but she went calmly over to where +the apparition still was visible, and stooping, peered into the still, +calm, unearthly face. Instantly there was a low sob, a faint moaning +sound which fell upon the silence with a strange, despairing echo, and +then the vision faded away--the apparition was gone! And nothing was +left to tell the two terrified witnesses that there had been a ghostly +visitant within the room--nothing, save the memory of that which they +could not forget, which they would never forget as long as they both +should live. + +With a shudder Lillian went back to the other room, to the graceful +figure in shimmering silk crouching upon the carpet, wringing white +jeweled hands in wildest terror, while shudders like convulsions passed +over her frame. + +“Come, Miss Raleigh,” urged Lillian, venturing to lay her hand upon the +bowed head, “let me help you to undress and put on a wrapper, and then +I will brush out your hair, and try to help you to forget this thing. +Oh, Miss Rosamond, there is nothing there! You can see for yourself. +It is all dark now in the round room. There is nothing to fear--it is +gone. Come, sit in this easy-chair, and try to be calm and brave.” + +Trembling like an aspen, Rosamond lifted her head. + +“I am afraid!” she whimpered, feebly, sobbing like a child who awakes +in his sleep frightened and alarmed, full of shadowy fears of he knows +not what. + +She sat gazing about her for a brief space, then she staggered to her +feet. + +“Is it really gone?” she faltered. “Then I will--Oh, heavens! what +is that?” with a shrill shriek which resounded throughout the silent +house, as a sharp rap was heard upon the door of the room. + +That was the last drop in the bucket; Rosamond’s self-control--such as +it was--gave way, and shriek after shriek rent the silence, while poor +Lillian stood like a statue, too terrified to move, not knowing what +to do; afraid to open the door lest Rosamond’s shrieks should redouble +in violence, yet to stand there and do nothing--good heavens! it was +maddening! + +“Rosamond,” called a voice through the key-hole, “for mercy’s sake, +what is the matter? Open the door at once, I say! Are you being +murdered in there?” + +The shrieks were cut short in a twinkling. Rosamond started up, pale +and breathless. + +“It is mamma,” she panted, in a tone of relief, as she threw herself +into an easy-chair, with clasped hands and a face so full of terror +that it was a sight to behold. + +Lillian flew to the door and unlocked it. Upon the threshold, in awful +dignity and a flannel dressing-gown, stood Mrs. Raleigh. + +“What--what is the matter?” she gasped, feebly. “I heard such a +disturbance in here that I began to think the house was on fire, or +some other awful calamity had occurred, so I left my bed, threw on +a wrapper, and came here at once. Rosamond,” turning to her weeping +daughter with a face full of alarm, “what has happened?” + +And then, amid sobs and tears, and wild terror unsuppressed, Rosamond +sobbed forth the story of the ghostly apparition. Her mother listened +with undisguised contempt. + +“A ghost? Bah! Rosamond Raleigh, I gave you credit for a little common +sense! If ever I hear anything of this nonsense again, I shall tell +your father. He will send you off somewhere into the country”--Rosamond +shivered with disgust--“or to some place of retirement, and place you +under a physician’s care, and we will see if your nerves will give way +at every little strain. Rosamond Raleigh, you are a fool!” + +She was a real Job’s comforter, Lillian thought; but perhaps it was the +proper course to take. At all events, she knew the nature with which +she had to deal. Rosamond dried her tears and leaned her head against +the soft cushions of the chair, listening, with half-closed eyes, to +her mother’s lecture. + +Mrs. Raleigh went over to the door of the round room and threw it open. +One glance and she turned away with a disdainful sniff. Darkness there, +and nothing more. + +“It was all a delusion--a foolish fancy!” she exclaimed, harshly. + +“It was not, indeed, Mrs. Raleigh. I beg your pardon for contradicting +you, but I saw it myself.” + +Lillian could not refrain from this outburst of explanation. Mrs. +Raleigh turned coldly upon her and transfixed her with a Gorgon stare. + +“Did I address _you_, girl?” she demanded, severely. “We never permit +servants to speak their minds in that way. You will have to learn your +place if you remain in Miss Raleigh’s employ.” + +“I do not know that I shall remain in Miss Raleigh’s employ,” returned +Lillian, quietly. “I was engaged as companion, but find myself reduced +to the position of waiting-maid. The position is not an agreeable one, +and I was not educated and trained for a servant, Mrs. Raleigh.” + +“Mamma,” sobbed Rosamond, beginning to turn on the water-works once +more, “that girl will go away and will tell everybody that this house +is haunted; and she will make Mr. Lyndon think me a horrible creature, +and--” + +“Mr. Lyndon, indeed!” interposed Mrs. Raleigh, with a look of disgust +too deep for words to express. “And pray, who is Mr. Lyndon, that he +should be of such importance, and his opinion so highly prized by +Grafton Raleigh’s only daughter? Rosamond, I think you forget yourself! +Jack Lyndon is only a poor newspaper _attaché_--a mere nobody, with +neither money nor position--only a handsome face and a sharp tongue to +call his own. He is the last man in the world to whom your father would +be willing to give his daughter. You must be mad to think seriously +of Jack Lyndon. Put it out of your mind at once and forever. He is a +villain to try to win your heart.” + +Rosamond started to her feet, pale and wrathful, overcome by anger +which for a time was too deep for expression. Twice she opened her lips +to speak before the words which she was striving to utter were suddenly +hissed forth, sharp and shrill: + +“Hush! Don’t say another word, mamma, for I will not listen. A villain! +Jack Lyndon is the best and noblest man in the round world. And poor, +without position though he may be, he is the only man for whom I have +ever really cared, and--mamma, you may as well know it now as later--I +intend to marry him.” + +A low cry fell from Lillian’s lips. She could not forget his words +to her so short a time before; his tender tone and the look upon his +handsome face when he begged her to let him stand between her and the +storms of life. And yet he must have said something which made Rosamond +Raleigh believe that he cared for her, or she would never have spoken +in that way. Mrs. Raleigh flashed about at the sound of that low cry, +and her hard, cold eyes swept Lillian from head to foot. + +“So you are in love with him too, are you?” she sneered. + +Rosamond turned her steely eyes upon the shrinking girl. + +“You must be mad,” she hissed, “if you imagine for a moment that Mr. +Lyndon has ever thought seriously of you. He is kind to everybody, +and treats all women alike. With the woman he loves, of course, it is +different,” she went on, icily. “If he has ever spoken kindly to you, +or noticed you in any way, it is because of the chivalry and deference +of his nature, but anything further is absurd.” + +And then memory reminded her with a cruel little stab of Jack Lyndon’s +words to her that very evening. He had begged for a private interview +with Lillian Leigh on the following morning, and the look in his eyes +when he made the request of Rosamond revealed the secret of his heart. +He loved a woman dearly, but it was not Rosamond Raleigh! And as Miss +Raleigh remembered, her thin lips shut themselves closely together, and +the small, cold hands clinched each other fiercely, while low under her +breath she muttered, with angry emphasis: + +“He shall not see her! He must not! I will manage it some way, and I +shall get rid of her as soon as possible.” + +So she turned to Lillian with a peremptory gesture. + +“Go to bed!” she commanded, sternly. “Last night when I wished you +to remain with me you made a great fuss; to-night you seem inclined +to remain up till morning. Go to your own room. I shall not need you +to-night, and I wish to talk with mamma.” + +Thus summarily dismissed, Lillian said good-night briefly and took her +departure, sore-hearted and sad in mind and body. What did it all mean? +She had begun to trust Jack Lyndon implicitly, and to find out his +treachery was a fearful blow. She closed the door of her room behind +her and stirred the fire into a cheery blaze. Her eyes fell upon a card +lying upon the table; she picked it up and read these words penciled +upon it: + + “If Lillian Leigh would gain a clew to the murderer of her father, + let her be in the grounds by the east gate to-morrow night at nine + precisely.” + +Trembling like a leaf, Lillian read these words. + +“A clew!” she panted, at last. “Can it be possible? What would I not +do to gain possession of it? Oh, to find out the name of the dastardly +wretch who took my father’s life I would be willing to lie down and +die.” + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile, in Rosamond’s room, Mrs. Raleigh was talking away in a low, +eager tone. + +“You are right, Rosamond,” she said, excitedly, “Lenore Van Alstyne +has a secret--a bad secret, I am certain. And _he_ does not know +it--does not dream it--that pompous man who has bought her with his +gold! She hates him, but he does not know why. Here, I found this in +the dressing-room after the guests left last night. I saw it drop from +Lenore’s pocket. Read it, Rosamond, and tell me what you think.” + +She thrust a scrap of paper into Rosamond’s hand. Her face flushed with +unholy triumph. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HER LORD AND MASTER. + + +The wintery sunlight stole in at the windows of the breakfast-room at +Senator Van Alstyne’s sumptuous mansion. It paved a shining pathway +over the pretty crimson carpet, over the round damask-covered table, +glittering with silver and crystal and delicate Sèvres china. A bird +sung in a gilded cage amid the flowering plants in the bay-window, and +the sunlight shone over all with a soft mellow glow which even the +sparkling wood fire upon the marble hearth could not outshine. That +same sunshine danced in irreverent glee upon the top of Senator Van +Alstyne’s iron-gray head, as he sat with the morning paper before him, +absorbed in the news. But all the same there was a frown upon his brow, +and an unpleasant expression hovered about his coarse red face which +betrayed inward annoyance or trouble. And so you will perceive that +even riches can not keep trouble away, and that a man may be a senator +and a millionaire, but still know what it is to be annoyed. + +He glanced up from his paper at last, and turned toward the ormolu +clock ticking musically upon the marble mantel, and the scowl upon his +face grew deeper. + +“In the name of Heaven, why does not she come down?” he exploded at +length; “half past ten o’clock! Why on earth a woman wishes to remain +all day in her room is more than I can tell. I will endure her airs and +graces no longer. When I married Lenore Vane I intended--” + +The click of high heels, the sweeping of silken skirts, and the door of +the breakfast-room opened and Mrs. Van Alstyne appeared. + +She wore a pink surah morning-dress garnitured with yellow lace, and +her beautiful face looked like chiseled marble, as with a cold, proud, +weary manner she swept to her place at the breakfast-table. + +“Good-morning, Van!” nodding slightly toward him. “Really, I am +unconscionably late! Why did you wait all this time for me?” + +“Why?” + +It was as though the one word had been fired off like a cannon-ball, so +sudden and sharp was the expletive. + +“Simply because I have always told you, madame, that I will never take +my meals alone as long as my wife is able to come to them. If you were +ill it would be different; but as it is I demand obedience, and I shall +exact it hereafter!” + +She shut her white teeth hard together, and the white hand that poured +the steaming coffee from the silver urn shook a little. But she +compressed her lips over the sharp retort which trembled for utterance, +and went on with her occupation. At last: + +“Here is a letter that came for you this morning,” he snarled, as he +tossed a square white envelope across the table, where it fell beside +her plate. “By the way,” he demanded, harshly, his small eyes upon her +face with a look of menace, “who is ‘C. F.’?” + +“‘C. F.’?” And the blood forsook her white face; the cup of delicate +egg-shell china which she was about lifting to her lips fell from her +grasp and was shivered into fragments. “You startled me, Van,” she +observed, apologetically. + +His eyes snapped. + +“But that is not answering my question,” he persisted. “There’s no use +in your trying to keep all your past to yourself, Lenore Van Alstyne. +When I married you, you acknowledged that there was something in your +past of which I was in ignorance--deuced disagreeable to have a wife +with secrets in her life--and I agreed to ask no questions; and it was +also settled upon the day”--emphatically, with his ugly eyes staring +full into her own--“that I honored you with my name, my hand and +fortune, that all your past was to be dropped forever with the name of +Vane. You remember that that was the agreement, Lenore?” + +She bowed coldly. + +“Heaven knows I have small chance to forget,” she returned, wearily, +“since you remind me of it every day of my life--every weary, endless +day of my wretched life!” she moaned, stopping short in a spasm of +terror at sight of the thunder-cloud upon his face. + +“See here, madame”--he brought his big, fat hand down upon the table +with a force which made the china jump--“if all these heroics are +intended to act as a means of diverting me from getting at the truth, +let me tell you, my lady, that you are failing in your attempt. Once +more I ask--nay, demand of you, Mrs. Van Alstyne--_who is ‘C. F.’?_” + +“I do not know what you mean,” she faltered. + +“Well, are you never going to open that letter? You will see by +glancing at it that it is sealed with the monogram ‘C. F.’” + +For the first time she glanced at the letter. It was lying face +uppermost, addressed in a bold, legible hand to Mrs. Lenore Van +Alstyne. Surely that handwriting was familiar to her? A strange pang +shot through her heart, an awful pallor overspread her cheek; she +crushed her teeth into her under lip with savage ferocity as she took +the letter from the table and turned it over. It was sealed with a drop +of wax, red and glistening, which bore the monogram “C. F.” She knew +then why her husband had awaited her appearance at the breakfast-table. +He was afraid to open the letter and seal it again, as he had been +guilty of doing before now, for the wax could not be broken and +resealed without betraying the truth. Her lip curled with disdain as +she slowly opened the letter. One glance--one swift, eager glance--and +she started to her feet with a low moan. One hand was pressed against +her heart as though to still its awful tumult, the other clutched the +letter in a most despairing grasp. + +“Heaven help me!” she whispered low under her breath. And all the time +those basilisk eyes were upon her with an eager, devouring gaze, and +Senator Van Alstyne watched his wife as a cat watches the mouse upon +which it is about to spring. At last: + +“Well, Mrs. Van Alstyne, you seem inclined to be tragical this +morning!” he sneered. “Here, give me the letter.” + +She drew back with a gesture of horror in her beautiful dark eyes--a +look that was bad to see. + +“No! no! no!” she panted, hoarsely; “you must not! I--I mean that it is +nothing. My heart hurts me this morning, and I was a little startled! I +shall be all right soon, and--” + +“Mrs. Van Alstyne!” + +He darted forward and clutched her white arm in a grasp of steel. + +“Give me that letter, I say!” he panted, glaring down into her +terrified face with his cruel eyes. “How dare you have secrets from +me--I, your husband, your lord and master? Give me that letter at once, +I command you, or by the Heaven above us I will force it from you!” + +Her head was crested like the head of some beautiful wild creature +brought to bay by the cruel hounds, and her starry eyes flashed fire. + +“Unhand me, sir!” she commanded, in a low, ominous voice. “Let go my +arm, Van Van Alstyne, or I will ring for the servants, and throw myself +upon their protection!” + +“Will you give me that letter?” he hissed once more. + +“No! I will not! You have no more right to demand my letters of me in +this brutal way than I have to see yours--if I care to--from the pretty +ballet-dancer who wrote to you yesterday!” + +He fell back a little, and his ruddy face grew pale. + +“Nonsense! A man and a woman are different in the eyes of society. It +would be a pretty thing if a woman were allowed the same privileges +that a man is permitted.” + +Her lip curled with haughty scorn. + +“We agree to disagree upon that subject, Senator Van Alstyne,” she +returned, quietly; “and now I will finish my breakfast.” + +“You will do nothing of the sort! By Jove! madame, I will have you to +know that I am master of this house, and that you--curse you!--are my +wife! You belong to me, just the same as my horses and dogs, my plate +and furniture! Give me that letter or I will take it.” + +She flashed him one look--a look of mingled scorn and defiance--then, +with a swift gesture, she wheeled about and tossed the letter into the +fire. It flamed up red and glowing--flared and flickered and died down +into a heap of feathery ashes. Whatever secret the letter contained, it +was safe from Van Van Alstyne. + +For just a moment he stood there, glaring down into her face, his +own so distorted by rage that it had lost all semblance to a human +countenance. His eyes scintillated, his burly form shook with wordless +wrath. He wheeled about, and lifting his hand, brought it down--oh, +shame to his manhood!--upon the white face of the woman before him. +No sound escaped her--no cry, no moan. Awful silence fell over the +room; she neither spoke nor moved. The clock ticked away. One, two, +three, four moments had come and gone; then, with a swift gesture +of unutterable contempt, she lifted her scornful eyes to his face +and--laughed. It was a bad thing to hear--that laugh. He grew pale, and +shivered slightly as he heard it. + +“Ah, what a glorious country this must be!” she sneered, in a low, +cutting voice, “whose senate is honored by such creatures as you! +Wife-beater, falsifier, base, perjured villain! How I loathe the name I +bear!” + +“Take care that you do not dishonor it!” he sneered. + +She lifted her cold eyes to his face. + +“Dishonor?”--she laughed once more. “Look to yourself, Van Van Alstyne.” + +She swept past him from the room up to her own chamber ere he could +detain her. + +Once alone in her room, with the door locked securely, she threw +herself face downward upon the floor with a storm of bitter sobs. + +“He lives! he lives!” she murmured; “after all these years he lives +and is true! How horribly I have suffered, how bitter my punishment, +how fearfully I must atone! Yet it was an unintentional sin--it was +my mistake; this is my punishment! God pity me and let me die, for my +heart is broken.” + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +DECEIVED. + + + “LENORE,--Must see you. Failing in that, I will write you to-morrow. + + CYRIL.” + +Those were the words written upon the scrap of paper which Mrs. Raleigh +eagerly displayed to her daughter. Rosamond glanced the note over, and, +crumpling it fiercely in her hand, she lifted her eyes to her mother’s +face. + +“Well, it is evident that she has a secret with a vengeance!” sneered +Rosamond, “for there is something behind all this, I am sure. And it +is no ordinary flirtation or escapade, for Lenore never flirts, and +is scrupulously exact in her behavior. Mamma, this is a clew to the +mystery which hangs around Lenore Van Alstyne; I am sure of it! Let me +keep this paper. I will watch her closely and wait in patience, and if +I am not greatly mistaken there will be developments before long. I +never did fancy Lenore’s reticence in regard to the early part of her +life. You know she lived in Europe with a relative of her father’s, who +afterward died, leaving her alone and dependent upon us. But she never +speaks of her girlhood’s days or her life in Europe. If I chance to +refer to that time she changes the subject as hastily as possible; and +I have seen her grow pale and shudder perceptibly when I happened to +mention the subject. I should say that whatever her secret may be, it +must have occurred some time early in her life, about her sixteenth or +seventeenth year.” + +Mrs. Raleigh nodded. + +“I believe you are right,” she said; “and now, Rosamond, you had better +retire. These continued late hours are wearing upon you, and you are +beginning to look jaded and--and--old! I will stay with you to-night; +you are lonely and afraid.” + +“Do,” in a tone of relief. And so at last Rosamond Raleigh’s head +rested upon her pillow, but the wide-open eyes staring into the +darkness found no sleep. They saw ever before them that pathetic +little figure, the shadowy hands working ever on, so patient--so +piteously patient--even like the fates weaving away at their +never-to-be-completed web. The memory of the vision in the round room +haunted Rosamond Raleigh sleeping or waking, and when morning came she +arose pale and unrefreshed, feeling as though life were a veritable +burden. As soon as breakfast was over she summoned Lillian. + +“I want you to go down-town on an errand for me, Lillian,” she began. +“Here is a note to Madame Dupont, my milliner. She has removed to a +place quite out of the world, I should say. Take the note and bring me +a reply. If she is not in wait for her return.” + +Lillian was more than willing to go. It was a crisp, wintery morning, +and a walk--even so long a walk--would do her good. So she hurriedly +prepared herself and was soon in the street, her face turned in the +direction indicated. She had not been gone a quarter of an hour when +the door-bell rang and Jack Lyndon made his appearance. Although his +call was intended for Lillian, prudence warned him that it would be +more discreet to inquire for Miss Raleigh. He was shown into the pretty +red-and-gold reception-room, and a little later he was holding Miss +Raleigh’s hand in his, gazing down into a pair of frank, innocent blue +eyes; just as frank and innocent as though she had not sent Lillian +away purposely, and as though she were not playing a game--a desperate +game--which must either be won or lost. + +“Oh, Mr. Lyndon, I’m so glad to see you!” lifting the frank blue eyes +for an instant to his, then letting the gold-brown lashes droop over +them once more. “I was feeling really blue and lonely, and wishing that +my good fairy would send some congenial spirit to me; and, lo! you have +come.” + +She looked fair and sweet as a picture, in a dainty house-dress of +pale-blue surah shrouded in white lace, fastened at the throat with a +quaint pearl brooch. But Jack was full of the object which had brought +him thither, and felt possessed with the spirit of unrest. Rosamond +talked on gayly, cheerily, trying to divert his mind from the subject +with which it was engaged. At last: + +“Miss Raleigh, I have called this morning hoping to obtain an interview +with Miss Leigh. I have something of real importance to say to her, and +trust that you will permit me to infringe upon her time for a brief +space.” + +Rosamond’s face was like a marble mask. She arose and rang the bell. A +servant appeared. + +“Send my maid to me, Williams,” she commanded. + +The man looked blank. + +“If you please, Miss Rosamond, she’s gone out. She left word with me +that if you wanted her, to say that she has gone up-town on an errand +of her own, which you gave her permission to attend to to-day. You see, +Miss Rosamond, you had not yet left your room, and Miss Leigh did not +wish to disturb you.” + +“Very well, Williams,” she returned. “You may go.” + +And as the door closed behind him, Miss Raleigh added, with apparent +frankness: + +“Dear me! I wonder what Lillian’s particular business up-town can be? +I told her that you were coming here this morning to see her in regard +to a matter of importance. She looked confused, but she said nothing. +Now, Jack--Mr. Lyndon, do not look so disappointed! Can not I act as a +substitute for my maid?” + +The tone of sarcasm in her voice had its own effect. Jack colored +slightly. + +“I--I beg your pardon, Miss Raleigh,” he said, hastily. “I am aware +that my conduct is very unusual. I beg that you will be lenient with +me, and try to believe that I mean nothing wrong. And now I will bid +you good-morning.” + +The look of disappointment which clouded her face was genuine. + +“Why need you leave me so soon?” she pleaded. But Jack, disappointed +and chagrined, was not to be beguiled. + +He made his adieu and was soon out in the street, wandering he scarcely +knew whither. He was off duty for a few hours, and the sense of freedom +was sweet. He wandered aimlessly down-town, away to the lower part of +the city, where the city parks lay basking in the wintery sunlight, +nearly deserted now by their usual occupants. + +All at once Jack lifted his head, and his eyes fell upon a slight, +graceful figure in deep black, seated upon a bench in Douglas Park, her +fair, pure face uplifted, while the beautiful dark eyes watched the +fleecy clouds overhead with a dreamy, abstracted air. Why had Rosamond +Raleigh told him that Lillian had gone up-town, when in truth she had +taken the opposite direction? He drew near the slight form. + +“Waiting for the clouds to roll by, Miss Leigh?” he asked, +mischievously. + +Lillian started, and a swift wave of color flamed into her cheek as +Jack came forward and seated himself at her side. + +“Why did you run away?” he asked, plaintively. + +She laughed. + +“Run away? From what--or whom?” + +“From me!” he replied, venturing to take her hand in his own. “I called +upon you just now, but Miss Raleigh informed me that you had gone +up-town, or rather her servant said so. I was in despair, so I wandered +on without aim; to-day is a holiday, and I seldom get one; but at last +fate led me straight to your side. Lillian, fate is kind. My darling, +say that you are glad to see me!” + +The frank brown eyes met his, and there was no dissimulation in their +depths. + +“I am glad,” she murmured, softly. “Oh, so glad to see you! I was +thinking of you just now!” + +He lifted her hand to his lips. They were almost as much alone in the +bleak, deserted park as Adam and Eve in Eden; and indeed it was Eden to +them. + +Alas! and alas! there is no Eden without a serpent! + +“Lillian, I love you!” The words burst from Jack’s lips in a torrent of +passionate yearning. “Darling, let me take you away from that house +where you are so unhappy! Where you are ill-treated and insulted. Be +my wife, Lillian, and I swear before Heaven to do all in my power to +make you happy! And I will help you to find your father’s murderer! I +know that you will never forget the vow that you took that awful night +beside his body. Let me help you, darling, in your efforts to bring +Gilbert Leigh’s murderer to justice! You do care for me, Lillian, +darling?” + +“With all my heart!” she answered, simply. + +“Then you will be my wife some day?” + +The shy, brown eyes drooped before his eager gaze, and sweet and low +came the answer, “Yes.” + + * * * * * + +“Ah, good-evening, Mr. Lyndon. How glad I am that you have come! My +truant maid did not return until--oh, a short time ago. And I have +something to tell you, a love secret that I have surprised. What do you +think? Lillian is in love!” + +Jack started, and his face grew deathly pale. Then he remembered that +she was his betrothed wife, and he smiled. + +“In love? Oh, yes, why not?” he faltered; “and I wish to say to you +to-night, Miss Raleigh, that I--” + +“Hush!” smiling archly into his face, “I have surprised a tender +secret. Come with me, Mr. Lyndon; I want to show you a pretty scene!” + +She opened a side door which led into the grounds, and, quite +bewildered, Jack followed the graceful figure in black velvet and +pearls, with a crimson shawl wrapped about her shoulders. On to the +furthest extremity of the grounds, to the east gate. Rosamond halted, +and motioned Jack to be silent. In the clear moonlight everything was +visible, and this is what Jack Lyndon saw: The girl who only that +morning had promised to be his wife--Lillian Leigh--clasped close in +the arms of a man. And the pale radiance of the moonlight glinting +down upon the pair revealed to Jack’s agonized eyes--the form and face +of Richard Raleigh! + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +ACCEPTED. + + +Lillian had gone to the rendezvous at the last gate with perfect +confidence, and with no thought of Richard Raleigh in her mind. The +night was very beautiful. The moonlight silvered all things, and by +its pale, clear radiance she made her way to the trysting-place. Her +heart was filled with quiet happiness. Jack loved her. To Lillian Leigh +the beginning and the end of all things was comprised in those words. +Jack loved her, and wanted her to be his wife. Of his poverty she never +thought. He earned a reasonable salary, and it requires but little to +keep two who are contented and satisfied with their lot in life--happy +in being together. + +Lillian had never been rich. She had never known the pleasure of having +all the money that she wanted, a handsome home, rich dresses and costly +jewels, servants to command, and a carriage in which to ride. What +one has never possessed one can hardly miss; and she could see only +happiness and prosperity in the future for herself and Jack. Ah! there +never was any one like Jack! So handsome, so brilliant, so manly and +good! Her heart was thrilling with love and devotion toward Jack Lyndon +as she hastened to meet this stranger who had written and asked her to +come. A clew to her father’s murderer! The very thought made her heart +beat fierce and fast within her breast. + +“He shall be brought to justice, no matter who he may be!” she +muttered, as she hurried onward. + +The gate was reached at last, and Lillian came to a halt. There was +no one there. A rustic seat stood near under a huge beech-tree. She +seated herself and drew her white cloak closer about her shoulders. + +“I wonder who it is and why he does not come?” she said to herself, +impatiently, and just a little frightened to be out alone at that hour +so far from the house. + +Crash! through the underbrush came the sound of heavy footsteps. Pale +and frightened, Lillian started to her feet. The branches of the +beech-tree grew thickly around her, although denuded now of leaves. A +hand pushed the branches aside, and a tall, dark form loomed up before +her in the moonlight. + +“Lillian!” exclaimed a voice. + +One glance, and she fell back pale and trembling with horror too deep +for words. + +“Mr. Raleigh!” she panted; “I did not expect to see _you_.” + +He laughed--an unpleasant, sneering laugh. + +“No, I suppose not. That was a surprise which I held in reserve for +you--a pleasant surprise, I trust, my dear. Lillian, listen to me. Do +not turn coldly away; I have something to say to you, and, so help me +Heaven, I mean every word that I utter! Lillian, I love you! Stop! I +mean no insult. I love you purely, honorably, with all my heart, and +I ask you to be my wife. Do not look so scornful; pause and reflect +before you decline an alliance with a Raleigh.” + +She stood before him pale as marble, her large dark eyes lifted to his +face in wordless scorn. + +“Mr. Raleigh, let me pass!” she commanded, coldly. But he caught her +hands in his own. + +“Stay, Lillian. No, I do not intend to be violent or rude with you. +I ask you to listen quietly to me, as quietly as you would listen +to Lyndon--curse him!--if he were to make love to you as he does to +every woman who is foolish enough to listen to him. Ah, I guessed your +secret, my sweet Lillian; but when you have heard all that I have come +to say, I imagine that you will change your mind. Lillian, I wrote and +asked you to meet me here to-night that I might reveal the name of your +father’s murderer. It is more than a mere clew that I possess, Lillian +Leigh--I know the man who took your father’s life.” + +She was trembling like an aspen, her white hands clasped, her dark eyes +shining like stars. + +“His name!” she panted, hoarsely; “tell me his name, Mr. Raleigh!” + +Richard Raleigh bent his head, and his dusky eyes studied her face with +a fierce, eager intensity. + +“If I tell you what reward will you give me, Lillian?” he queried, +earnestly; “will you promise to be my wife?” + +She threw back her head with a haughty gesture, and faced him with +fearless contempt. + +“No! a thousand times, no!” she panted, angrily. “I can conceive of no +conditions, no circumstances, under which I would consent to marry you, +Richard Raleigh! You are a bad man, a base, wicked man, and I despise +and condemn you. And I have no right to listen to words of love from +you, for I am already betrothed!” + +He started, his face flushing and paling alternately. + +“Is it possible?” he cried. “Since when, may I ask? I have a good +reason for my question.” + +“I promised to-day to be Mr. Lyndon’s wife!” she answered, proudly. + +An awful look flashed over Raleigh’s face. He grew pale, and his eyes +held a strange, lurid, brassy light. + +“Jack Lyndon! Curse him! He is always in my way!” he snarled. “He is +a gay Lothario, making love to every woman, every pretty face that he +meets. To my certain knowledge he has talked all sorts of soft nonsense +to Rosamond. He has other strings to his bow, and now you too. Oh, +Lillian,” in a tone of sad reproach and regret, “I would rather see +you dead than deceived and misled by Jack Lyndon. He is a notorious +lady-killer, and a man of no honor--” + +“Stop! Not another word, Mr. Raleigh. I will not listen. Jack Lyndon is +good and true--upright and honorable. Such a nature as his is beyond +your comprehension.” + +Richard Raleigh laughed. + +“Beyond my comprehension? I grant that,” he returned, sardonically. +“But if you believe for a moment that Jack Lyndon is true to you, if +you believe for a second that when he is absent from you he does not +make love to other women--what, irresistible Jack! Beauty, as he is +called!--I will soon undeceive you. I have it in my power to do so. +Look!” + +He took from the seat where he had placed it a field-glass of +remarkably strong magnifying power. By its aid any object could +be distinguished a half a mile away. Richard Raleigh arranged the +glass which he turned upon the drawing-room windows of the house. He +brought it within easy range by stepping into a side-path, clear from +obstructing trees and shrubbery. + +A moment’s silence fell, then a voice full of triumph: + +“Lillian, come, quick!” + +She scarcely realized what she was doing. Under ordinary circumstances +Lillian Leigh would have shrunk from such an action; but almost before +she was aware of it, she found herself peering through the glass +straight in at Miss Raleigh’s drawing-room window. This is what she saw: + +Rosamond Raleigh seated in a low velvet chair, and Jack Lyndon leaning +over her, gazing into her face with eager eyes, while one hand held +hers. Lillian turned away with a shudder. + +Raleigh laughed sardonically. + +“Are you satisfied that Jack Lyndon is at least a flirt?” he asked, +softly. + +She made no reply. What could she say? If Jack Lyndon were false and +treacherous, in whom could she believe? Sick and faint, she turned +away, and seating herself upon the rustic seat, she covered her face +with her hands. How long a time passed in silence she knew not. The +silence was broken at last by Raleigh’s voice. + +“Lillian, would you know the truth--the bad, black, dreadful truth? +Listen to me, then, and believe that I speak truly, Lillian Leigh.” + +He stooped and spoke a few words in a low tone. + +With a moan of anguish she fell at his feet, and lay there for a time +quite oblivious to all that had come upon her. Not unconscious, not in +an ordinary swoon. There are blows which fall crushing upon the human +heart with such force, such awful paralyzing force, that they benumb +the brain and bring a dull torpor upon the senses, crushing the mind +and the reason for the time being, because they are not strong enough +to believe and accept the full force of the awful shock. In some such a +trance poor Lillian lay for a time. At last Raleigh stooped and lifted +the slight black-robed form in his arms, adjusting the white cloak +about her with a tender touch. It was certain that with all his vices +there was a soft, tender spot in his heart for Lillian. But his face +was set and stern, and low under his breath he murmured, faintly: + +“I have half a mind to give up the whole business and run away. But, +no; there is too much involved. Father has revealed too much; I have +promised, and I can not go back now that I have started on the road to +success. I have put my hand to the plow and must not turn back. I must +go on to the bitter end, no matter what the consequences may be.” + +And as he lifted Lillian in his arms to place her upon the rustic seat, +just at that juncture Rosamond had appeared with Jack Lyndon. But +neither Lillian nor Richard Raleigh dreamed of such a thing. + +One swift glance of horror, just long enough to know and realize that +his eyes had not deceived him, or the moonlight played any trick with +his eyesight, and Jack Lyndon wheeled swiftly about and retraced his +steps to the house, followed at a little distance by Rosamond, her +heart full of gratified triumph. She had succeeded beyond her wildest +hopes. + +The goal was very nearly won. If only she were patient and played her +cards properly all would yet be well. + +Back in the drawing-room once more, Jack seated himself without a word. +He felt in a mood for anything now--reckless and desperate--fit for any +mad deed. Lillian was false. If that were so--and how could he doubt +the evidence of his own eyesight?--then there was not a woman in the +world worth caring for, worth trusting in. As he sat in moody silence a +soft hand was laid upon his forehead, smoothing the hair from his brow, +and a low, magnetic voice murmured, sweetly: + +“Jack, don’t look so down-hearted. What in the world is the matter? +There,” with a low, rippling laugh, “I hear Lillian coming into the +house--the little deceiver. Shall I call her in here and question her?” + +He shivered all over as with a chill. + +“Forbear!” he cried, lightly. “To intrude upon her happiness would be +unkind. Come, Rosamond,” calling her by that name for the first time in +his life, “let us sit here and have a pleasant chat and shut out all +the world--all false women and men, all deceit and wrong-doing. Let us +be a veritable Darby and Joan, for one night only, as the play-bills +say.” + +He was in just the mood to fall into her snare, and Rosamond Raleigh +knew it. + +Poor though he was, she had learned to love the brilliant young +journalist with a mad, unceasing love of which no one believed her +capable. And she had made up her mind to marry him. + +“I have money enough for both,” she had decided. + +To-night he was so reckless and defiant, so desperate and bitter, that +Rosamond’s gentle sympathy, her ignoring of the possibility of Lillian +having any claim upon his affections, all had its own deadly effect. + +And sitting at Rosamond’s side in the dimly lighted drawing-room, +fully convinced of Lillian’s falseness and unworthiness, and therefore +considering himself free from her, Jack Lyndon made the mad mistake of +his life. He asked Rosamond Raleigh to be his wife, and Miss Raleigh +promptly accepted him. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +IN THE CONSERVATORY. + + +Senator Van Alstyne’s splendid mansion was ablaze with light. It looked +like a fairy palace, glittering with its brilliant illumination. +Within, the great rooms were thrown open, and wreathed and decorated +with flowers, with banks of roses and jasmine, and a flower-wreathed +nook from behind which a band of musicians sent forth strains of music +maddening, intoxicating. A grand reception was taking place, and +Senator Van Alstyne, in all the ugliness of conventional evening-dress, +was prominent among his aristocratic guests, his red face fairly +shining with gratified pride and flattered vanity. In the center of the +great drawing-room stood a queenly figure in a sweeping robe of white +velvet, with diamonds sparkling all over her white lace overdress like +fairy frost-work glittering with dew-drops. She was pale and cold and +proud, and in the depths of the beautiful dark eyes there was a weary +look--a look of self-scorn. + +“I am pitiably weak,” she was saying to herself, with bitter +self-contempt, “for I ought to have asserted my dignity as a woman; +and when that blow was struck me--that cowardly, unmanly blow--it +would have been better, and I would have more self-respect now, if I +had gone away. Gone to toil and hardship--to work, to starve and die, +and be out of all this gilded misery. For, oh! if it be true, and if +he is living, what am I? I dared not read the entire letter, for Van +Alstyne would have taken forcible possession of it; so I do not know +his address, or where he is, or where to write. Heaven help me!” she +murmured, feebly. “What shall I do?” + +Yet all the time these bitter thoughts were running riot through her +brain she was standing, the cynosure of all eyes, in the sumptuous +drawing-room, in her white velvet and point lace and sparkling +diamonds, the most admired, even as she was the most beautiful, woman +present. And like a huge watch-dog Senator Van Alstyne moved about +near her, his keen, ferret-like eyes keeping vigilant watch upon her +movements. + +“I will find out what is tormenting her so!” he declared, resolutely. +“There is something wrong--some secret--and it is connected with that +letter. The next letter that arrives for her shall be opened by my +hands before ever she sees it. It is no more than right that I should +know the contents of her letters. By Jove! she is my wife, and I am her +lord and master!” + +Just then his eyes fell upon a stylish, graceful little figure in +trailing yellow silk and blood-red rubies. A pair of big, black, +velvety eyes were uplifted with an admiring expression to his +face--with a look which drew him to her side--and the great Senator +Van Alstyne was soon engrossed with Mrs. Vernon, a notorious flirt and +belle, who looked upon all men as lawful prey, and lost no opportunity +of subjugation. There was a Mr. Vernon, too; but then nobody ever +troubled themselves in regard to him, save only as Mrs. Vernon’s +husband. She monopolized all masculine attention, and in her sweet, +innocent, childish way had been guilty of more cruelty, responsible for +more family feuds and conjugal infelicities than any other woman in +the city. Yet she had always contrived to escape blame or censure, and +if any one ventured to blame her she posed as a martyr, and was looked +upon as the victim of envious foes. + +“My dear senator,” she cooed sweetly, as she laid her white-gloved +finger-tips upon his black coat-sleeve, and prepared for an agreeable +promenade, “I really must congratulate you upon the success of your +entertainment. It is _recherché_; it is the most perfect that I have +ever witnessed. And how superbly beautiful Mrs. Van Alstyne looks +to-night! No wonder everybody falls in love with her. That reminds +me to ask you the name of her new admirer--the stranger who haunts +her like a shadow. He is so handsome--perfectly splendid. With such +an interesting pallor, and large, dark, melancholy eyes, silky black +mustache and wavy dark hair. I declare he is just for all the world +like the Giaour and all of dear, delightful, awfully wicked Lord +Byron’s heroes! And he looks at Lenore--Mrs. Van Alstyne--with such a +look! What is his name, did you say, senator?” + +And she knew full well that the jealous old senator had not said, and +did not know, and it was for that very reason that she had broached the +subject. For Lenore had been so coldly proud in her reception of Mrs. +Vernon that that lady could not find it in her heart to forgive her, +and instead had vowed to pay her back. + +She watched Van Alstyne’s face change from smiling red to angry purple, +and his small eyes snap with displeasure. She noticed, too, the +clinched hand and hard, labored breathing. Nothing escaped her eager, +malicious eyes. + +“I have not the pleasure of knowing all Mrs. Van Alstyne’s friends,” he +returned, stiffly. “Be good enough to point him out to me, Mrs. Vernon. +Perhaps I can tell you his name if I have the pleasure of seeing the +gentleman.” + +“Ah, yes, to be sure! I am always doing foolish, childish things,” in +a tone of mock sorrow. “Forgive me, senator--please; and I’ll promise, +like the naughty boy, never to do it again. There! I see my fascinating +hero--the mysterious unknown. He is standing not far from Mrs. Van +Alstyne. She does not appear to see him at all; but some magnetism +draws him thither--sort of needle and the pole attraction, you know,” +with a silly laugh. + +Van Van Alstyne’s greenish eyes followed the direction in which +Mrs. Vernon was gazing. He saw a tall, graceful figure in faultless +evening-dress standing near Lenore. A wondrously handsome man with a +decidedly foreign aspect, dark Oriental eyes, and pale, statuesque +face. Lenore evidently did not observe him. She was engaged in +conversation with a group of ladies and their attendant cavaliers, but +the stranger stood still as a statue, his eyes fastened upon her like +one who is biding his time, waiting patiently for his hour to come. +And still without observing him she turned aside and wandered away to +the conservatory. Van Alstyne’s eyes shone with a lurid light, and +he set his yellow teeth close together, hissing forth a naughty word +from between them. He arose to his feet; Mrs. Vernon arose also and +laid her hand upon his arm. He could not shake her off, and he knew +it; it was best also to keep in Mrs. Vernon’s good graces, so the wily +senator was compelled to stifle his yearnings in the direction of +the conservatory--the conservatory which Lenore entered and went on +straight to her doom. + +She wandered down the flower-scented aisles with a tinkling fountain +splashing dreamily and tropical birds singing overhead in their gilded +cages--birds that, like herself, had been taken in their wild beauty +and imprisoned in a glittering prison against which they might beat +their wings in vain, for they could never escape--nothing would free +them but death. Lenore caught her breath with a weary little sigh. + +“Nothing but death,” she murmured, softly; “and I have the means of +escape always with me.” + +She gazed upon one white finger on which a large solitaire diamond +glittered in the gas-lighted conservatory like living fire. + +“No one would ever dream,” she went on, drearily, “that under this +shining stone there lies a drop of poison--such subtle, deadly poison, +and so swift in its effect, that I have only to press the hidden spring +in this ring to find death and eternal quiet.” + +“Lenore!” + +A voice at her side--a rich, sweet voice, speaking in a cautious +tone. She started, and her face grew white as marble. She pressed one +hand against her heart, with a low cry. One swift glance around the +place, and then both white hands were laid in his, and a voice full of +suppressed delight murmured, faintly: + +“Cyril! Good God! can it be you? I could not believe it--I could not +believe it even when I saw your letter! Oh, Cyril! Cyril!” + +She threw herself into his arms, her proud head pillowed upon his +breast, her white arms wound about his neck, and lay there in a very +trance of delight. + +“Oh! my love--my love!” she murmured, softly. “After all these years, +to hold you thus once more! But, Cyril,” starting up with wide-open, +wild, dilated eyes and a face of ashen pallor, “stop--and think! +You--you know all; and in your letter you said that if I would see you, +you would be able to explain away all the awful mistake of the past. +Tell me, Cyril--tell me, oh! my beloved, you were not all to blame!” + +“So help me Heaven, I was not to blame!” he said, fervently. “We were +duped, betrayed, deceived--you and I. It was not my fault--it was +not our sin; and for seventeen years--seventeen long, dark, bitter +years--we have walked apart upon this earth--you and I. But no human +power shall part us now, my darling--no one can come between us ever +any more.” + +Her eyes met his with wild terror. + +“Cyril--I am Van Van Alstyne’s wife,” she faltered. + +His eyes flashed. He stooped and whispered a few words in her +ear--words which made the blood leap madly in her veins. + +“Cyril! Can you--prove it?” she cried. + +“I can and will, my beloved!” He held her close to his heart once more, +and showered kisses upon the sweet red lips. “You are mine, Lenore!” +he whispered, tenderly. “All this mystery shall be cleared up, and the +world shall know the martyr you have been.” + +Footsteps! She sprung to an upright position and hastened away, while +her companion turned to encounter the scowling face of the master of +the house--and upon his arm, smiling, giggling, the irrepressible Mrs. +Vernon, her black eyes twinkling with gratified malice and spite. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +FROM THE OTHER WORLD. + + +Slowly Lillian aroused herself, and in perfect ignorance of what had +taken place just a few feet away from the scene of her own sorrow, sat +up pale and trembling, Richard Raleigh bending over her. + +“It is true, Lillian,” he said, gravely, “all true. But, unless I +speak, there is no proof--no way of proving to the world the deed of +which I accuse that man. We must be quiet and wait patiently for the +next developments. Lillian, promise to be my wife, and I swear to +unearth the murderer and deliver him up to justice.” + +He was speaking fast and in low, eager tones. His face had grown +deathly pale--a strange, unearthly pallor--and great drops of +perspiration stood upon his brow. She put up her hands with a repelling +gesture. + +“Keep away!” she cried, wildly. “There is no truth in you, Richard +Raleigh! You are bad and false, and I do not believe you. Keep away! Do +not trouble me more, for my brain reels, and I am weak and faint and +half insane!” + +Her eyes were glittering with a feverish light; her hands were hot and +trembling; her breath came in fitful gasps. She looked ill and weak. + +“It is all true, Lillian,” Raleigh repeated once more. “It is a hard +thing to say--hard, hard; but the truth can not be denied. I repeat to +you boldly--to you, the daughter of the dead man, Gilbert Leigh--that +_Jack Lyndon took your father’s life_!” + +She put up her hands once more with a shrill cry of pain. + +“Don’t!” she panted, hoarsely. “If there is any pity, any mercy in your +heart, Richard Raleigh, do not repeat that false lie! Why should he do +such a fiendish deed? What motive could he have had?” + +Raleigh’s eyes flashed. If she would only discuss the matter with him, +there was a hope of convincing her of the truth of his words. + +“Why, indeed?” he repeated. “Why should anybody have had cause? Yet +the awful deed was done. I will tell you all if you have strength +to listen; I will repeat the circumstances of the affair just as I +witnessed it, and then you can judge for yourself. I was coming home +from Mrs. Howard’s reception, Lillian, on the night of your father’s +murder. It was late, and I had walked, so I hurried onward, my head +bent, my thoughts busy. All at once I heard the sound of footsteps, and +as the street was deserted--I was coming down the street upon which you +then lived, Lillian--it attracted my attention, and glancing up I saw +your father, Gilbert Leigh, on the opposite side. I was about to cross +over and join him when the electric light went out into darkness--you +know their exasperating ways--and when I was able to see once more, +I observed your father in eager conversation with another man. It was +very near your own door, Lillian; and just then you opened your window +and glanced out as though looking for your father. I saw your sweet +face and I halted; forgive me, Lillian, I could not help thinking it +was the sweetest face in the round world. Your father was just beyond +the range of your window; you could not see him, so you closed your +blind and I turned away. Stepping on a few paces, I caught the sound of +men’s voices in angry altercation, and once more I halted. + +“‘Give me the book!’ I heard an angry voice demand. + +“‘I will not!’ responded your father, firmly. ‘It does not belong to me +but to my employers, and I will defend it with my life!’ + +“Then an awful pause, broken by a smothered groan and a sound like some +one struggling upon the pavement. I dashed across the street, and there +I found--_don’t_ look at me with such horror-stricken eyes, Lillian--I +found your father in the grasp of murderous hands, just breathing his +last. Over him stood his murderer--that man, Jack Lyndon. Why did I not +denounce him at once, you ask? Lillian, it was through sympathy and +pity for you. He told me that he was your intended husband; that your +father had treated him villainously; he fell upon his knees before me +and begged me to spare him and let him go free. I weakly consented out +of pity for you, oh, my beloved, never dreaming that the day was coming +when I too should bow before you in humble supplication for your love. +I have carried this secret about in my heart, corroding and poisoning +my whole life, until I can keep silent no longer. And now, Lillian, +that you have heard all, what will you do?” + +Her face froze over like a marble mask. + +“Denounce my father’s murderer, and give him up to justice!” she said, +in a low, stern voice. + +Richard Raleigh shuddered. + +“Lillian, listen. The secret is ours. No one else in the wide world, +but you and I, has any knowledge of his crime. Shall _I_ denounce him, +or shall _you_? You did care for him once; but you shall, if you wish, +deliver him over into the cruel hands of the law.” + +She covered her face with her hands, sobbing and trembling in a weak, +womanish way. + +“I can not--I can not!” she sobbed, bitterly. “No, no; a thousand times +no! I will not speak! I will die before I will denounce Jack Lyndon! I +can not believe it; it is all false--false--false!” + +Richard Raleigh took her hand in his. + +“It is true, Lillian; and because it is true I am going to denounce him +to the authorities--Jack Lyndon, the murderer of your father!” + +She started up with a low cry. + +“You shall not! You shall not, Richard Raleigh!” + +“I must. Justice demands it.” + +“You shall not! You must not!” wringing her hands in wild beseeching. +“Have pity--have mercy! My brain is reeling--I know not what I say. +_Only spare him!_ I--I loved him once--loved my father’s murderer! +Oh, God! And I stood beside my father’s body and vowed to deliver his +murderer up to justice! What a weak--pitifully weak wretch I am!” + +“You are a woman, consequently weak in resolution where one you love is +concerned. Let me do it, Lillian! I will deliver Jack Lyndon into the +hands of the law. I _must_; it is my duty.” + +“Richard”--calling him by his name, in a voice full of heart-break, +seizing his hand in both her burning palms--“listen to me. If you do +this thing--if you persist in this determination--if you denounce Jack +Lyndon to the authorities, I will take my own life!” + +For just a moment, silence--awful silence; then Richard caught the +girl’s slight, trembling form in his arms and held her close against +his breast. + +“Darling, I love you! My God, how I love you!” he panted. “Be mine, +Lillian--be my wife, loved and honored; the wife of Richard Raleigh, +only son of Grafton Raleigh, millionaire. It is no position to scorn. +Be my wife, Lillian, and I swear to let Jack Lyndon go free, to hold +my peace, and leave him to God and his own conscience! Refuse me, and +I will--I must--let the law take its course! But I prefer to give up +the pursuit, to let remorse do its own work in Jack Lyndon’s breast--a +Nemesis to hunt him down. Believe me, Lillian, if the dead--the holy +dead--can behold us, he, your departed father, will approve--would say, +if his dumb lips were unsealed: ‘Daughter, forego vengeance. Leave that +to Heaven.’” + +He paused and gazed around him in the pale moonshine. What ailed the +moonlight? It seemed to grow suddenly dim and obscure, as though the +moon were in an eclipse. A strange chill had crept into the air; an +awful unseen presence seemed to stand at their sides. Lillian glanced +up with a convulsive shudder. + +“Who called me?” she cried, wildly. “Mr. Raleigh, I swear to you I +heard my father’s voice--my dear, dead, murdered father call clearly, +distinctly, ‘Lillian!’” + +He caught her to his heart once more. She had no strength left to +repulse him now. + +“Superstitious child!” he cried. “Darling, my life is in your hands; +what are you going to do with it? Think it all over, and let me know +your decision. Be my wife at once, and be lifted out of this poverty. +You need not fear my parents’ displeasure; I know how to win their +consent, and I swear before high Heaven, I swear before my Maker, by +all my hopes of happiness, to let Jack Lyndon go free and unaccused! +Will you consider it, Lillian, and give me your answer to-morrow? Meet +me at this place at ten to-morrow night. Will you come, Lillian?” + +Her face was as pale as death, her eyes full of heart-break. + +“Yes; I will be here with my answer to-morrow night at ten,” she +returned, mechanically. + +She slipped away and up the path like a wild creature, back to the +house, and fled upstairs to Miss Raleigh’s chamber, where she threw +herself down upon the rug before the fire, shivering violently. Not +a word did she utter. Her heart was in a tumult, her brain seemed on +fire. The closing of the outer door of the house aroused her at last, +and she knew that Jack was gone. Click! click! came the sound of high +heels, and a little later Miss Raleigh entered her room. Her face was +all aglow with triumph as she sunk into an easy-chair. + +“Come and take off my shoes, Lillian,” she commanded. “I feel like +sitting up till morning, for I am just too happy to sleep! Oh, +Lillian! I must tell somebody, or my heart will burst with its burden +of gladness! Lillian, Jack Lyndon has asked me to be his wife; and, +poor though he is, I love him, and have accepted him. He loves me so +dearly--so very dearly, Lillian--and he has loved me so long, but +feared to speak before. Lillian!”--with a voice full of horror--“look!” + +She had started to her feet with a gasp of terror. All of a sudden +the gas-light had begun to grow dim and burn with a faint, blue, +unearthly glow. And then--_then_--the door of the round room opened +slowly--slowly--and there, upon the threshold, pale and wan and +pathetic, with one hand pressed upon her heart, and great, sad, dark +eyes lifted to Miss Raleigh’s horrified face with a look of wild +beseeching--stood the apparition of Noisette. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A GUILTY CONSCIENCE. + + +Rosamond Raleigh’s blue eyes grew black as night as they stared in +wildest terror into the face of the apparition. + +A convulsive tremor crept over her frame. She fell back a few paces and +lifted her hands with a maddened gesture. + +“Keep back! keep back!” she shrieked. “My God! am I never to be free +from this horrible thing? Lillian--look--for the love of Heaven, look!” + +Lillian had been standing all this time, white and wild-eyed, gazing +before her upon the awful sight. She turned aside with a low groan. + +“Miss Raleigh, it is really true”--the girl’s voice was low and +faint--“you are--you must be--haunted! I have never believed in such +things before, but I can not doubt the evidence of my own eyesight +upon so many occasions. I, of course, have never seen the young girl +Noisette Duval, but you seem to recognize her.” + +“Recognize her!” with a hysterical laugh. “I should think so indeed. +Even that endless painting upon which she is always working is familiar +to me. She died, stricken down by heart disease, in the round room +yonder, while engaged in painting poppies and vine leaves upon an +amber satin panel for a ball-dress--just the loveliest thing. Oh, +Lillian!”--bursting into a flood of hysterical tears--“I have never +been able to wear amber--_so_ becoming to me, too--since that day. +There--thank Heaven, it is gone!” sinking into a seat with a sigh of +intense relief. + +Lillian came slowly forward and removed Miss Raleigh’s dainty kid +boots, substituting velvet slippers; and then, Rosamond having donned +a comfortable wrapper, Lillian began her nightly task of brushing out +her long yellow hair. She was silent and sad; her heart lay quivering +on her breast, bowed down with that awful weight of dull anguish and +despair. Surely she was but a foot-ball of fate. What a burden for such +young shoulders to bear! Yet she must bear it and be silent--for the +present at least. + +And while her heart was aching madly in her breast she stood and +brushed out the silky hair of the idle, contemptuous beauty who was +going to marry the man whom Lillian Leigh loved--the man who, with +unheard-of fickleness, had asked her to marry him only that morning, +and then at night had besought--oh, the irony of fate!--the woman who +employed her as waiting-maid--servant--to be his wife. Could such +perfidy be possible? + +There is not a woman in the world who will fail to understand the +emotions which racked the poor girl’s heart as these thoughts rushed +through it like a torrent. Love--deep and devoted love--which at +the same time was full of scorn and contempt; despair, anguish +unutterable, yet all the time the pride of a woman to uphold her. Ah! +woman’s pride--woman’s pride! When God made woman weak and loving, +with such utter self-abnegation in her love, He gave her also the +delicate, sensitive instinct which keeps many a woman’s feet from by +and forbidden paths. The pride which is part of a woman’s nature will +sustain and uphold her ofttimes when nothing else will. There are +women--Heaven help them!--who have nothing left them but their womanly +pride. Pure and cold as snow and hard as adamant, it stands like a +glittering wall of ice between her and the world. That pride was all +that Lillian Leigh had to lean upon now, in her hour of darkness. It +was her rock and her defense in time of trouble. + +“I shall be married soon,” observed Rosamond, complacently, yet +glancing furtively about her with frightened eyes; “for if I remain +much longer in this house I shall die of fright. Of course Jack has but +small means, but I have money enough for us both, and--” + +“And he will consent to live upon your money?” burst forth Lillian, +impetuously. “Miss Raleigh, I could never respect a man who would do +that!” + +Miss Raleigh’s thin lip curled with a condescending smile. + +“My dear Lillian, you have not been asked to respect Mr. Lyndon. And as +for living upon my money--that question lies between ourselves solely +and absolutely. Mr. Lyndon is not accountable to you, or _any_ of my +servants, I hope!” + +Lillian made no reply. The hot blood rushed to her white face in a +surging flood; then it receded, leaving her pale as death. + +“May I go now, Miss Raleigh?” she asked, wistfully. “See, the clock’s +hands are pointing to one; and I am very tired.” + +“Yes, go!” ungraciously. “I imagine that I shall not be disturbed again +to-night. I must devise some plan to get rid of or outwit this ghostly +visitant--to guard against its reappearance. I _must_ put a stop to it!” + +She started as the audacious words passed her lips, her face took on a +deathly pallor, and her eyes dilated with sudden horror. Surely that +was a laugh--a low, sweet, mocking laugh which had fallen upon the +silence as though defying her to do her worst. Rosamond fell back into +the chair from which she had just arisen, and sat clutching wildly at +its carved arms. + +“Lillian, as surely as you live, that was Noisette’s voice--Noisette’s +laugh. I remember it well, although she seldom laughed aloud. She was a +grave, quiet, taciturn girl--one who had little to say, and was never +demonstrative or merry. Yet I swear that was Noisette Duval who laughed +then as though in derision. Don’t go to bed now, Lillian, for Heaven’s +sake! I will not stay here alone now. No, I will retire, and you may go +after I am asleep. I will take a sedative, and will be sound asleep in +a short time.” + +Utterly selfish, the cruel woman did not pause to reflect upon the +terrors which Lillian was suffering. The poor girl was timid and +nervous as any other woman would have been under the circumstances, and +she longed to reach the privacy of her own chamber--longed intensely +to be alone, to stare her sad future in the face. But the woman +unfortunate enough to be employed by Rosamond Raleigh was allowed no +time to weep over her own sorrows. + +Rosamond hurriedly prepared herself for bed; then she went to an Indian +cabinet which stood in all the glory of quaint carving in one corner of +the room, and opening it, took a bottle from one of the shelves. The +vial bore a suggestive label--two cross-bones surmounted by a grinning +skull, and below, in large letters, “Chloral--_Poison!_” + +“Oh, Miss Raleigh,” interposed Lillian, “surely you will not take that? +It might kill you.” + +“Nonsense, you little goose! I always take it when I am disturbed at +night. It is the only thing that makes me sleep.” + +She took a golden spoon from the cabinet and dropped a few drops of the +chloral into some water, then hastily swallowing the dose, she returned +the vial to the cabinet and retired for the night. Five minutes later +she was wrapped in a heavy, sluggish slumber. + +Free at last, Lillian turned the gas down to the faintest glimmer, and +at last sought her own room. The fire had gone out, the lamp burned +low. She went straight to bed and lay there all the rest of the night, +her eyes wide open, while she tried to stare her future in the face. +The pale gray light of dawn creeping in at the window found her still +sleepless; but at last she sunk into an unquiet sleep which lasted +until the dressing-bell rang. + +She awoke with a start, and, pale and spiritless, arose and made +her simple toilet. With light footsteps she entered Miss Raleigh’s +sleeping-room. Rosamond lay sleeping soundly, so Lillian dropped the +shades over the windows, extinguished the gas, and softly withdrew. + +One day--only one brief day, and then she must give Richard Raleigh his +answer. Her whole future hung trembling in the balance, and before the +sun should set that night her decision must be made. + +Coming down-stairs on her way to the conservatory to gather a bouquet +for Rosamond’s boudoir, Lillian accidentally encountered the master +of the house. His face looked pale and grave, and there was an air +of preoccupation about the pompous millionaire which she had never +observed before. To her amazement, at sight of her, Mr. Raleigh stopped +short, and a smile from which she shrunk involuntarily crossed his lips. + +“Ah, good-morning, Miss Leigh,” he said, pleasantly, unctuously. “How +are you this fine morning? I am afraid that you are working too hard. +You look pale--too pale, Lillian. I do not wish you to be overworked, +and really the work is unsuited for you. We will find you something +better--something better,” with a smile and a pat of the girl’s soft +hand which he had taken in his own. “This occupation is entirely out +of place,” resumed the millionaire, blandly; “this is no business for +Gilbert Leigh’s daughter--no, indeed! It is a shame that you should +hold a position of this kind in my household, and I mean to put an end +to it.” + +Utterly overwhelmed, Lillian could only bow and murmur something +unintelligible in regard to his kindness, and then she withdrew her +hand and hurried to the conservatory, feeling very uncomfortable and +far from easy in her mind. Grafton Raleigh had never noticed her +before, save in a chance encounter in the hall or some of the rooms, +when the stiffest of bows would be all the notice ever vouchsafed +by him to his daughter’s waiting-maid. Lillian did not like this +sudden change of demeanor, and she hurriedly gathered her flowers and +retreated up the stairs, with a vague terror creeping into her heart, a +feeling that some new calamity was threatening her. + +The breakfast hour in the handsome breakfast-room found Mrs. Raleigh, +her husband and son, alone at the table. + +“I wonder what keeps Rosamond so late?” observed Richard, turning over +the pile of letters beside his plate. + +His father frowned. + +“That girl is getting altogether too indolent!” he observed. “And +I do think she keeps that little maid of hers up half the night, +Helen!”--turning swiftly to his wife at the head of the table, behind +the silver urn. “I insist that you inquire into this matter. The girl +is no common servant, remember, and she may astonish you some day.” + +Mrs. Raleigh favored her husband with a long, comprehensive stare. + +“Well, I declare,” she burst forth, indignantly, “wonders will never +cease! My daughter’s waiting-maid must indeed be possessed of rare +graces to have attracted the attention of the fastidious Grafton +Raleigh. Rest assured--Ah, there comes Rosamond now! The poor child has +had a bad night. I can see that at a glance.” + +The door of the breakfast-room had swung slowly open, and Rosamond, in +a pale-blue wrapper which made her pale face look even more death-like, +glided into the room. She was wan and haggard, and there were dark +circles beneath her eyes. At sight of her, her mother’s face grew stern. + +“Rosamond”--in a reproving voice--“you have been taking chloral again.” + +Rosamond halted just within the door, which she closed behind her. She +glanced into her mother’s face as she burst forth in a shrill treble: + +“Yes, I have been taking it, and I shall be compelled to resort to it +every night or never sleep again on earth if something is not done to +relieve me of the visitations from which I suffer. Papa--mamma! it is +the truth, so help me Heaven! I am haunted--haunted by the spirit of +Noisette Duval. I am never safe from it. It comes when I am sad and +when I am cheerful; it comes at night and at day; when I am alone and +when Lillian is present! And, papa”--wringing her hands nervously--“I +have concluded to ask--to beg of you--permission to have the round room +closed up forever. Will you consent, papa?” + +Mr. Raleigh sneered and frowned and objected, but he ended by being +overruled. Before noon of that day half a dozen workmen were busily +engaged in sealing up the pretty octagonal chamber. The door of +communication between it and Rosamond’s sleeping-room was removed, the +aperture closed, and the wall papered to correspond with the rest of +the room. The door leading into the hall was also removed, and when +the work was completed Rosamond congratulated herself upon having +completely exorcised the spirit which so persistently haunted her. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +MISJUDGED. + + +Silence in the conservatory, where we left Senator Van Alstyne +standing, red and angry, in the presence of the stranger who was also +his guest. + +The two men stood silently regarding each other. Van Alstyne’s +ferret-like eyes glowed with a lurid light, an unpleasant sneer curled +his sensual lip, half hidden by the long, carefully kept mustache. + +Mrs. Vernon, still hanging on the senator’s arm, glanced from one to +the other, and thoroughly enjoyed the situation. + +Van Alstyne bowed coldly, stiffly. + +“I beg your pardon, sir. There is some mistake, doubtless;” the +irate senator spoke with ill-concealed disgust; “but I have not +the--ahem!--honor of your acquaintance, Mr.--” + +“Fayne, sir--Cyril Fayne,” with quite as cold a salute as the senator +himself had bestowed, and upon his matchless face a look of utter +contempt and scorn. + +So this was the man who had bought Lenore Vane with his gold. This +creature who possessed so little of the true refinement of a gentleman +that he would not receive a guest who was unknown to him with the calm +courtesy due from one gentleman to another under any circumstances. And +that Cyril Fayne was a gentleman was as patent to the observer as that +Van Van Alstyne was not. + +Low under his breath Cyril Fayne was muttering softly: + +“Heaven help her! Her burden has been hard to bear. Poor Lenore--poor +heart-broken Lenore! Curses upon the man--the man whom I believed years +ago to be my friend, and who is to blame for all this misery! All the +sorrow and anguish of our parting, and the seventeen long, dark, bitter +years which lie between that time and now. Curse him! Wherever he is, I +shall find him if he is still above ground. All her happiness blighted; +all the best of my life spoiled; all the woe and anguish that have been +mine until now--though I am not old, for I have seen but forty years--I +feel as if my whole life had come to an end!” + +And while these thoughts were rushing through his brain, he was +standing still as a statue, while Van Van Alstyne’s eyes were searching +his face with an ill-bred stare which at last became more than Cyril +Fayne could endure. + +“Possibly Senator Van Alstyne recognizes an old acquaintance in me!” he +suggested, mockingly. + +Van Alstyne’s red face grew purple with rage. + +“No, I do not!” he cried, vehemently; “and I must say that my wife +shows deuced small respect for her husband--her protector--by Jove! +her lord and master--to receive men at her reception who are not only +strangers to me, but whom she does not trouble herself to present to +me!” + +“Your wife!” + +The two words fell like stones from Fayne’s lips; and the moment they +were spoken he realized that he had made a mistake. + +Senator Van Alstyne stared for a moment, too astonished to utter a +word; then bristling with rage, he drew a step nearer, and Heaven only +knows what atrocity might have been perpetrated, but down came a tiny +gloved hand upon his arm, and a sweet voice cried, gayly: + +“Come, senator, you promised to show me the datura! Now, don’t stand +here squabbling over nothing, I beg of you! Of course Lenore--Mrs. Van +Alstyne--will make everything clear. Dear me! if Mr. Vernon should make +such a fuss over every gentleman whom I invite to our house without +consulting his royal highness, he would live in a tumult for sure. Van +Van Alstyne, you are as jealous as a Turk. Now, if I were your wife--” + +The fascinating Mrs. Vernon possessed more influence over the doughty +senator than any other living creature. Fayne bowed coldly and stepped +aside for them to pass. While down went the senator’s iron-gray head, +and his thick lips touched the gloved hand resting upon his arm, while +he whispered, softly: + +“If you were my wife! Oh, Bessie, if you only were!” + +And thus you will perceive that senators, and even married senators, +are not quite impervious to a little flirtation with a pretty woman. +And it is possible that, while they are so particular that their wives +should be like Cæsar’s better half, “above suspicion,” the lives of +many a public man are not beyond reproach. Van Van Alstyne’s creed was +that a man can do as he feels inclined; a woman must conduct herself as +she is directed. One creed for the man and another for the woman, and, +of course, no equality. In this case the superiority was all upon one +side, not the senator’s. And there are many men like Van Van Alstyne. + +As soon as Cyril Fayne had disappeared, Mrs. Vernon lifted her +great black velvety eyes with their belladonna brilliance and their +delicately painted lids to the face of the man at her side with an +affectation of child-like innocence. + +“Where did dear Lenore disappear to?” she queried, sweetly. “Didn’t +you see her when we entered the conservatory? No? Is it possible? +Why, I saw her in close conversation with that delightful Mr. Fayne. +I say, Van, he is delightful, isn’t he? No? Oh, you horrid creature! +Of course, I don’t consider any man so nice as--as--you,” giggling +like a school-girl. “There now, I am certain I see Lenore. Yes, to be +sure. Nobody else wears white velvet, point lace, and such diamonds as +Senator Van Alstyne’s lovely wife. And if there is not such a costume +as I describe seated over yonder--there, by the banksia roses--then I’m +a kitten, that’s all! Ah, Mrs. Van Alstyne,” as they suddenly appeared +before Lenore, who glanced up with a swift start, “we have been +looking for you everywhere. Why did you not present that handsome Mr. +Fayne? You ought not to be so selfish as to keep him all to yourself, +when half the ladies in the drawing-room yonder are just dying to +know him. But the senator and I hunted him up and down, and Mr. Van +Alstyne introduced himself, and we found that he is Mr. Cyril Fayne. So +your pretty little mystery is a mystery no longer. Lenore! Mrs. Van +Alstyne! you are ill--you are going to faint!” + +Lenore lifted her heavy eyes, and passed one hand over her brow as +though to relieve the dull pain which was throbbing in her temples. + +“Ill? No, no!” she gasped, feebly. “What were you saying, Mrs. Vernon, +about--about some gentleman--Mr.--” + +“Cyril Fayne,” supplemented Mrs. Vernon, promptly; “at least, so he +introduced himself. Your husband has made his acquaintance, after +a fashion. I do not imagine that they love each other very dearly, +however. Certainly not a case of love at first sight.” + +“Hardly!” growled the senator. “Why, the fellow actually sneered when I +spoke of you, Lenore, as my wife! There! Bessie, she has fainted.” + +Lenore had started to her feet, and then, with a long, quivering sigh, +had fallen back into the chair once more, pale and still. + +“Hush!” commanded Van Alstyne, as his companion evinced signs of +excitement. “Be still, will you? I don’t want the whole crowd out +yonder to gather in here--and the story would go the rounds of the +newspapers to-morrow, with some infernal lie tacked on to it. Just hold +her head, Bessie, while I get some water from the fountain yonder and +bathe her head. Chafe her wrists a little. Gently--there!” + +He hastened to the tiny fountain splashing dreamily into a marble +basin, and soon returned with a silver cup full of its perfumed water. +As he approached the recumbent form of his wife, Mrs. Vernon dropped +something which she had been holding in her hand, with a hasty glance +in his direction--and Van Van Alstyne did not know that the appearance +of haste was assumed on purpose to excite his curiosity. He stepped +swiftly to her side. + +“What is it, Bessie?” he asked, cautiously. + +She smiled. + +“Oh, nothing that you have not seen before, I dare say,” she returned. +“Only a medallion that Lenore wears about her neck.” + +His red face flushed a deeper crimson. + +“A medallion! I never gave it to her,” he panted. “Let me see it, Mrs. +Vernon.” + +And before Bessie Vernon could stop him--if she had wished to--he drew +forth from its hiding-place about Lenore’s white throat, a black onyx +locket in the shape of a medallion. An instant later he pressed the +spring and the lid flew open. One glance, and with a hoarse cry of rage +and jealous wrath too deep for articulate expression, Van Van Alstyne +dropped into the nearest seat, and sat staring helplessly into Mrs. +Vernon’s face. She laughed lightly. + +“Ah! so you see that your cold, white marble women are not always as +immaculate as they appear!” she sneered. “Lenore Van Alstyne is so +good, so awfully, fearfully good! She will never flirt, or do anything +just a little ‘off;’ she preaches domestic felicity--a regular Darby +and Joan sort of existence; she frowns severely upon poor me because +I like to flirt and am gay and full of life; and all the time, night +and day, she wears about her neck, hidden from view, the portrait of a +man who is not her husband. Do you see, Van Van Alstyne? This little +thin chain to which the medallion is attached is riveted on. And do you +recognize the face of the portrait? It is the face of Mr. Cyril Fayne.” + +Silence--perfect silence. An awful tempest was raging within the man’s +soul. He stood still as death. There was no sign of life save the slow +rising and falling of his chest. His face was ghastly white; his under +lip bleeding from the ferocity with which he had gnawed it; his hands +were clinched fiercely together. He took a step in Lenore’s direction, +where she still lay, white and unconscious, rigid as though life were +extinct. He lifted his strong right hand as though to strike her in +all her helplessness. Swiftly the hand was uplifted, slowly it fell to +his side once more. A strange expression crept over his face; an awful +resolution settled down upon it like a mask. He turned, and his eyes +met Bessie Vernon’s. He smiled. It was bad to see that cold, cruel +smile. + +“I will not touch her!” he muttered, hoarsely. “Put the trinket back +where you found it, under the lace at her throat, Bessie; and keep your +tongue still over this unpleasant scene, or--or I will make you sorry +for it. We will let Mrs. Lenore Van Alstyne go on in her own road and +say nothing at present. But the day will come--the day will surely come +when she will wish that she had died to-night--here--now.” + +He turned upon his heel and left the conservatory, Mrs. Vernon, with a +scared look upon her pretty face, following closely in his wake. She +felt like a child who has been playing with fire which suddenly burst +forth into a conflagration which nothing could subdue. + +And poor Lenore--poor wronged Lenore! who was innocent of sin, if only +he had known or would have believed it, lay there still unconscious, +like one dead. Better for her if she had been! + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE DIE IS CAST. + + +Nine! boomed from the big clock in a neighboring steeple; nine! tinkled +musically from the gilded time-piece in Miss Raleigh’s boudoir. + +Lillian started up with a cry of dismay, and the lace-work with which +she had been risking her eyesight fell from her hands to the floor. + +“One hour more,” she murmured, faintly, “only one hour more, and then +I must give Richard Raleigh his answer. Oh, Heaven, help and pity me!” + +She was all alone in the dainty boudoir, for Rosamond was below in the +drawing-room, entertaining a few guests--Mrs. Vernon and one or two +more of Rosamond’s particular friends. And she was expecting Jack. Of +course he would come, and then there would be an interview--a private +interview--with papa in the library, and the poor journalist would ask +for the hand of the millionaire’s daughter. + +“And if papa refuses,” thought Rosamond, “for Jack is not rich, and +papa may object--I--I shall marry him anyway! I am of age, fortunately.” + +And then there flitted through her brain the thought of poverty, even +though genteel poverty, with the man she loved, and her heart grew +faint and sick within her breast. + +“I could not bear to be poor!” she muttered, with a shudder of +aversion. “I just could not endure it.” + +And she sat in the drawing-room attired in a soft gray satin gown with +a great deal of white lace, a subdued, Quakerish costume, quaint and +becoming, and chatted with Bessie Vernon and the rest, and all the time +her heart was listening for a ring at the door-bell, the sound of a +familiar step in the hall. + +“Rosamond,” whispered Mrs. Vernon, after awhile, “I have something to +tell you--something rich! Are you engaged for twelve to-morrow? No?” +as Rosamond shook her head in the negative. “Then I will call and see +you. I want to tell you something, but you must be sure and never +mention it, never, as long as you live. It is something about Lenore +Van Alstyne.” + +Rosamond started. + +“Very well, I shall expect you to-morrow. And you may rely upon my +secrecy, Bessie.” + +And then Mrs. Vernon’s carriage was announced, and Mrs. Vernon took her +departure, with a whispered reminder to her hostess of the morrow’s +engagement. And then the other callers left. Still Jack Lyndon had not +made his appearance. What did it mean? + +Feeling restless and uneasy, full of a strange disquiet, Rosamond threw +a wrap about her shoulders and went out into the grounds. A glorious +moonlight night. She wandered slowly down the nearest walk, and at last +found herself in the vicinity of the east gate. + +“I wonder what Rick meant by being out here last night with Lillian?” +she muttered. “Some mischief, I have no doubt. But I don’t care what +happens if only he keeps her away from Jack. I firmly believe that Jack +cared for her; but I will kill her before she takes him from me.” + +She came to a halt with a start of surprise. She had nearly reached the +east gate, and her quick eyes had caught sight of two dark forms. + +Just at that moment the clock in the steeple struck ten. + +“I declare!” panted Miss Raleigh, in a low, wrathful voice, “it is Rick +and that girl again. Now, this is too much--too much altogether. Papa +would be so angry if he knew.” + +Even as she gazed upon the scene Richard Raleigh took Lillian’s slight +form in his arms and kissed her unresisting lips. + +Miss Raleigh could endure no more. She darted swiftly forward and +confronted the pair in the radiant moonlight, pale and wrathful. + +“You shameless creature!” she panted, bringing her hand down upon +Lillian’s shoulder with a fierce grip. “You shall leave my employ at +once--this very night! As for you, Richard Raleigh, I shall tell papa +of your shameful conduct, this moment--this very moment, sir, and he +will settle with you. The idea of a disgraceful affair like this going +on right under our very eyes!” + +And before Lillian could recover from her bewilderment, Rosamond +turned swiftly about, and rushed like a mad woman back to the house. +She burst into the drawing-room quite pale with excitement, and she +came to a startled halt as her eyes fell upon Jack Lyndon. He had been +closeted all the evening with Grafton Raleigh, though Rosamond had not +suspected his presence in the house; and now in the drawing-room--the +interview over--they sat conversing with Mrs. Raleigh and waiting for +Rosamond to appear. + +There was a hurried greeting, after which Rosamond, pale and excited, +turned to her father. + +“Papa--mamma, I beg your pardon, and Mr. Lyndon’s also, for rushing +in upon you in this fashion. But really I must speak or you may +reproach me for my silence later on. Papa, last night I saw your son, +Richard Raleigh, down at the east gate, where he had evidently gone by +appointment to meet my waiting-maid, Lillian Leigh. To-night I walked +out into the grounds. I felt lonely,” with a glance of tender reproach +into Jack’s startled face, “and chancing to walk in the same direction, +I saw them there again. And, papa, Richard had that girl in his arms +and--was actually kissing her!” + +“Rosamond!” This from Mrs. Raleigh. + +But the master of the house uttered no word. Pale and faint, Jack +Lyndon leaned heavily against the marble mantel, supporting his head +upon his hand and waiting for what was to come next. + +“Mamma, it is true. Do not look so angry. It is not my fault. But I +consider his conduct shameful--shameful! And that girl is a bold, +shameless creature, not fit to be in the house with refined ladies. She +is--” + +“Hush! Not another word, Rosamond Raleigh!” She wheeled about swiftly, +and there upon the threshold stood her brother, and at his side, pale +and trembling, Lillian Leigh. “Not another word!” repeated Richard +Raleigh, fiercely--“or you shall answer to me for your insults! +Father, I have good news to tell you. I have asked Lillian to be my +wife, and she has consented.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +A TRYING ORDEAL. + + +It was as still as death in the luxurious drawing-room--the sudden, +awful silence of the grave itself, so intense that it was almost +palpable. It was broken at last by Helen Raleigh’s cold, cutting, +imperious voice: + +“Grafton,” her hard eyes uplifted to her husband’s face, “you are +master here. I desire you to put an end to this shameful, disgraceful +scene. Your son--my son,” with a hysterical sob, “who dares stand there +and insult his own mother--I demand that he be punished as he deserves. +And as for you,” she glided swiftly over to where Lillian stood, pale +as marble and trembling like a leaf, and brought one white, jeweled +hand down with a grip of iron upon the girl’s shrinking shoulder, +“leave my house this moment, you miserable little wretch--you beggar! +Begone, I say, or I shall--” + +“Mother--stop! Not another word!” Richard Raleigh’s face was pale as +death and his eyes flashed ominously. “I command you to be silent. +This lady is my promised wife, and as such I swear that she shall be +respected! Father, are you never going to speak?” + +Grafton Raleigh wheeled about and confronted his astonished wife. + +“Helen,” his voice was low and stern, “cease this tirade at once. +Richard is right, and--and”--in a whisper--“he has reasons--good +reasons--for the step. The girl is placed in a position which she is +not fitted to fill,” he went on, in a louder tone. “She is pure and +lovely; and Richard--ahem!--loves her, and she--ahem!--loves Richard, +and I have promised not to interfere. I do not see--I do not see why +they should not marry.” + +Mrs. Raleigh could only stand and stare blankly into her husband’s +flushed face. Sinking at last upon a velvet sofa, she still sat in +blank, wordless silence, too overwhelmed to speak--too crushed by the +suddenness of the blow to find words to utter. At last: + +“Great heavens! am I mad, or am I dreaming? Grafton Raleigh, are you +in your senses? You, Grafton Raleigh, millionaire--you, who have just +listened quietly to the proposal for the hand of your only daughter +from a beggarly journalist,” Jack Lyndon bowed mockingly, “you, who +have listened, I say,” went on the irate lady, “and have decided to +give him a chance to win Rosamond, your only daughter--” + +A pause during which Rosamond flashed a swift glance into the pale +face of her prospective betrothed, but failed to see any ecstatic joy +mirrored upon his countenance. Mrs. Raleigh continued: + +“You now permit your son--your only son--to say such words to a +servant-girl--a common servant-girl--your daughter’s waiting-maid! +Your son, who might have had his choice of half a dozen wealthy and +fashionable women! Grafton Raleigh, if I did not believe--ay, know +that you had gone mad--I would promise you to be revenged for this. +But you are out of your senses, and I must be patient as possible. But +I can not be patient!” she sobbed, starting to her feet and beginning +to pace up and down the great room with nervous tread. “I shall die! +I--shall--die! Oh, somebody do something for me--quick! I am going to +faint--to die--to--die!” + +And then followed an attack of hysterics which prostrated the irate +mother entirely, and made Jack Lyndon cast wistful glances toward the +door, through which for the present he dared not attempt to escape. +After a little Mrs. Raleigh’s maid appeared and the patient was carried +up to her own room, and a physician telephoned for, after which silence +settled down once more. + +Pale and still, the group in the drawing-room below stood gazing into +each other’s faces. Jack was the first to break the strange, oppressive +silence. He walked straight up to Lillian and held out his hand. + +“Allow me to congratulate you, Miss Leigh,” he said, in a cold, hard +voice. “You have done the best thing possible--for yourself.” + +Lillian’s eyes flashed, she bowed coldly, but she did not seem to +notice his offered hand. She could not take it. She could not shake +hands with the man whom Richard Raleigh had accused of her father’s +murder. With a shudder she turned aside, then she forced herself to +glance back into his face again. + +“And you,” she returned, quietly, her face pale with righteous +indignation, “may you be as happy as you deserve.” + +He turned away, pale and trembling, and with a brief, comprehensive +good-night to the others, left the room. + +Rosamond followed him into the hall. + +“Jack,” in a low tone, “I am not yet clear as to the result of your +interview with papa. He said--” + +“That he would make no objection for the present--would let affairs +take their own course, etc., etc.; but he stipulates that there shall +be no engagement, and that the matter be kept secret for a year. Only I +may call as often as I please, and be looked upon as an honored guest, +and all that sort of thing, while you are to be left untrammeled. If +any other suitor appears with more money, more brains, more good looks +than I possess--” + +“Jack!” in a tone of protest, and with a girlish giggle Rosamond threw +herself into his arms. + +For just a moment he submitted to the embrace, shutting his teeth down +fiercely into his under lip; then he removed her clinging arms and +turned toward the door. + +“I must go, Rosamond,” he said, firmly. “I am expected down at the +office for a good six hours’ work.” + +“Poor fellow!” in a tone of tender compassion; “that shall soon be a +thing of the past. For, of course, we shall be married some time, Jack, +and--and then you need never work again.” He shuddered. “And it is +absurd in papa,” she went on, vehemently, “to impose such conditions +upon us. As though I could ever care for any one else. And if a richer +suitor should make his appearance”--“Heaven grant it!” was Jack’s +mental ejaculation--“it would make no difference to me, Jack, I assure +you. Ah, must you go? Good-night, then.” + +And a pair of thin lips were held up suggestively, so what could Jack +do but bend his handsome head and touch them lightly with his own? + +The first kiss! But, alas! Jack Lyndon was thinking even then of the +lips which he had kissed only the morning before--or was it a century +ago? + +Sick and faint and heart-weary, he closed the door of the Raleigh +mansion behind him and went down the street, pale and wan, his eyes +full of moody light. He looked like a desperate gambler who has staked +his all upon one throw of the dice--and lost. + +“I hope to Heaven some wealthy suitor will come along and win her from +me,” muttered this strange lover hoarsely, as he strode on down the +broad, aristocratic avenue, back to the office of the “Thunderer.” +“What a sham--what a miserable sham I am!” he burst forth, impetuously, +“to ask a man for his daughter in marriage, hoping all the time that +he will refuse me. And I actually believed that Grafton Raleigh almost +suspected it, or he would hardly have listened so graciously to a +proposal for Rosamond’s hand from a poor devil of a writer. Ah, me! I +can only leave it to time and fate. How beautiful she was to-night!” +he went on, suddenly breaking the silence which had fallen over him; +“the woman who has blighted my faith in all womankind, and has caused +me to make shipwreck of my whole life! She loved me only a few hours +ago!” he added, bitterly. “Yesterday she told me with tears in her eyes +and kisses upon my lips that she loved me. To-night she is betrothed +to a millionaire’s son. Good God! I would give my life to know the +truth, and why she has changed so! Bah! what a fool I am! As though +it were anything but the glittering bait which Richard Raleigh holds +out to her! Yesterday morning she did not know that he meant marriage, +so the poor newspaper scribbler was in favor. To-night there is the +prospect of life in a fine house, with servants and jewels and costly +dresses--bah! all that goes to make up a woman’s heaven--and for these +she turns her back upon love and me, and accepts the glittering future. +But one thing puzzles me.” + +He came to a halt upon the deserted streets, and stood staring blankly +through the semi-darkness. + +“Why should Richard Raleigh wish to marry a poor girl like Lillian +Leigh?” he went on, slowly. “And he really means honorable marriage, +or he would never have taken the bold step of presenting her to his +family as his betrothed wife. And why--why is Grafton Raleigh, the +purse-proud millionaire, so resigned? Nay, more--I firmly believe that +he is willing--is even pleased; for I surprised a look of intense +satisfaction and relief upon his face while he listened to Richard’s +words. Ah, well, it is a mystery to me,” he went on, as he plunged into +the gloom of the nearest street corner and hastened on down-town--“a +mystery which I may never unravel. But, for my own part, I am the most +miserable man alive, and the sooner the Gordian knot of life is cut the +better for me!” + +In the meantime, a terrible scene was taking place at the Raleigh +mansion. Mrs. Raleigh, recovered from the hysterics, was still able to +enact the rôle of the injured mother, the insulted and outraged lady, +and she spared no words to impress upon her hearers the full enormity +of the crime from which she was suffering. + +“A common servant-girl!” she panted, angrily, pacing madly up and down +her handsome chamber, whither her husband and Rosamond had followed +her. “A working-girl--daughter of one of my husband’s employees! A +low-born creature like that to be the wife of my son--my handsome +Richard--who might have his choice among the ladies of the land! +Grafton, I can not endure it!” she shrieked, madly. “Drive that girl +from the house--I command you! She shall not remain here! I hate +her--hate her! I hate her pretty baby face and silly ways, her cat-like +deceit, her snaky way of winding herself about everybody’s heart but +mine! Ah, no! not mine--nor Rosamond’s! We are women, and we know a +bad, designing woman--a base adventuress--when we see one. It takes a +woman to know a woman’s real nature, I tell you, Grafton Raleigh.” + +“On the principle that it takes a thief to catch a thief, I presume,” +intervened that gentleman, dryly. “Now, Mrs. Raleigh, are you done? +Have you finished your tirade? If so, then perhaps--possibly you +may listen to me. For I have something to say to you and also to +my daughter--a revelation to make. Richard and I have been hiding +something--an important discovery--from you both, for our own private +reasons. Mrs. Raleigh--Rosamond--listen both of you. How would you +like--how would you both like--to be poor? Poor! Not simply deprived +of extravagances--a few extra jewels, an unnecessary servant, a +useless superfluity of some sort; but poor--plainly, horribly, +uncompromisingly poor? How would you like to live on a back street +in a six-room cottage, and be your own servants, and exist without +jewels, walk instead of drive in your carriage with liveried footman, +forego Newport, Saratoga, and all that? How would you like to give up +Jack Lyndon, Rosamond? For, of course, without money that marriage is +off. Answer me, both of you, how would you like to be poverty-stricken +paupers?” + +Mrs. Raleigh’s eyes were riveted upon Grafton Raleigh’s pale, earnest +face. + +“You are mad!” she was beginning. + +He bowed. + +“So you have remarked before, madame!” he interrupted, coldly. “I +repeat my question, how would you like to be poor? Now listen. The +great house of Raleigh & Raleigh stands upon the verge of ruin, +and although it may sound absurd and incredible to you, there are +reasons--real, tangible reasons--why a marriage with this girl will +obviate all this; will save us from ruin--utter ruin and black +disgrace--a disgrace which will tempt you to end your lives to escape +its obloquy; a disgrace which would turn Jack Lyndon from you, +Rosamond, and would make our best friend pass us by. I can explain +no further now; you must take my simple word for it. But if Richard +Raleigh does not make that girl Lillian Leigh his wife, and soon, we +will all be beggars, and I--I shall die in prison, the death of a +felon!” + +He paused to mop the cold perspiration from his clammy forehead with +his handkerchief. He was as pale as death, and trembled visibly. + +“Now, Helen Raleigh,” he continued, glancing into his wife’s white, +startled face with fierce, eager eyes, “will you keep on with your +senseless ravings, or will you make the best of the situation and +consent to the marriage without asking me unpleasant and troublesome +questions? will you relieve us from the scandal of a marriage without +your consent? in short, will you save us from ruin, disgrace, and me +from a felon’s death?” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +A SNAKE IN THE GRASS. + + +The music surged in sweet, soft strains, the dancers danced, and the +moments went by. And still the mistress of all this splendor lay +white and unconscious upon the low seat in the conservatory, where the +banksia roses were heaped in great clusters, and the dreamy splashing +of the little fountain not far away alone broke the silence. Out in the +ball-room Senator Van Alstyne was dancing with Mrs. Vernon. Her face +was flushed with triumph, and her eyes held a look of exultation in +their black, velvety depths. + +“I will be even with Lenore Van Alstyne yet!” she was muttering low +under her breath. “I will pay her off for her cold, calm superiority +over me--her airs and graces, her assumption of goodness! I hate her, +the stuck-up, haughty creature. I have always suspected that there was +something hidden--a secret in her life--which she would not like the +world to know. I am sure of it now. I shall tell Rosamond all about +it, and if between us we can not punish and humiliate my lady, then I +imagine nobody can.” + +And the black, velvety eyes shone like diamonds, and the pretty face +was full of eager exultation at the thought--the alluring prospect of +blackening and defiling a sister woman’s name, and dragging her down +into the dust of shame and humiliation. Lenore was pure and true and +noble, though the victim of strange circumstances. And this woman--who +was no more to be compared with her than the bright blue, sunshiny +summer day can compare with the black, cold, tempestuous winter’s +night--this woman had power to drag her down from her pedestal of +innocence, simply because Bessie Vernon was unprincipled, and had set +her whole heart upon the ruination of Lenore, whom she hated with that +hatred of her own sex which is a woman’s Cross of Honor--such women as +Bessie Vernon. And as she floated down the long room on the arm of the +senator, to the sweet waltz music, her thoughts were busy with a scheme +of vengeance. + +And the moments slipped by, and still Lenore did not return to +consciousness. Mrs. Vernon had wandered away to the furthest extremity +of the drawing-room, and alone, for a wonder, was watching the +conservatory with furtive, cat-like eyes; but still Lenore lay in that +death-like swoon in the secluded corner among the banksia roses, and +the guests did not dream the truth. + +At length a tall form emerged from the depths of the fernery just +beyond the main conservatory, separated by a screen of luxuriant +flowering vines, and slowly approached the unconscious woman. It was +Cyril Fayne; his face white and set, his eyes full of smoldering light +which was not good to see. He looked like a man who is bent upon some +desperate errand as he came swiftly forward and fell upon his knees at +her side. + +“She is dead--my love, my wife!” he panted, hoarsely. “Lenore! Lenore! +Open your eyes, my darling, and tell me that you love me, and will go +with me at once--this very night!” + +Slowly the soft dark eyes opened and met his eager, impassioned gaze. +She half arose, putting out her hands in a pleading, beseeching way. + +“Don’t! Oh, Cyril! do not let them hear you!” she cried. “He would +listen to no explanation; he would put a bullet into your heart without +a moment’s hesitation. And if he knew all--if he knew--” + +She stopped short, breathing hard, like one in pain. Cyril Fayne +started. + +“He shall know--he must know soon!” he panted, softly. “I will only +wait for this affair to be ended and the guests dispersed; then I +will demand a private interview with Senator Van Alstyne. Lenore, my +darling, I am going to take you away from this place--away from the +awful position that you are filling--not your fault, my love! but it +must end now--at once, before another sun shall set. Think of the +horrors of your position--this sham existence must end at once! Let it +be to-morrow night. Ah! I have a better plan. We need say nothing to +him until all is over with; we would only make a terrible scene; and +once away from here, we will be with each other, never more to part! +You shall learn all the dark and dreary past, Lenore--the truth of our +long parting. I have written a full confession and explanation for you +to read before you join your fate with mine. Take this and read it at +your leisure,” he added, swiftly, drawing a letter from his pocket and +laying it in her trembling hand. + +“We must be silent as the grave,” he went on, hurriedly; “keep our own +counsel, and all will yet be well. Lenore, you can not, must not, live +on in this way a day longer, now that you know the truth. Go with me +to-morrow night. I will meet you at any place you may designate, and we +will take passage for Europe at once. Does that please you, Lenore?” + +She smiled, a sad, dreary smile it was, yet her eyes were full of +tenderness. + +“Anywhere with you, Cyril,” she whispered. “Oh, to be with you always, +after all these long years, will be like heaven.” + +“Then will you go away with me to-morrow night?” he panted, eagerly. +“I will defer my explanation until we are gone; then Van Alstyne shall +receive a written statement, with all necessary proofs of the truth, +and you will be out of his way, so that the horrors of his anger shall +not fall upon your head. And he is so violent and brutal, it is best +for you to be gone before he learns the truth, and that it is no sin. +The sin would be in remaining, Lenore!” She bowed her head like a +beautiful white lily--drooping and pale. “You will go with me?” he went +on, eagerly; “there is no other resource; and--surely you are willing, +Lenore?” + +“Willing?” + +She started to her feet, pale and trembling with excitement, her hands +clasped, her eyes shining like stars. + +“Willing? Oh, Cyril! Ask a starving, freezing wretch if he is willing +to be taken to a warm, luxurious home, with every comfort; ask a dying +consumptive if he would be glad to have his health and strength again; +ask the bleeding, fainting heart if it would be happy with the one it +loves--and you will have my answer. Yes, yes; a thousand times yes. As +the old German song says: + + “‘To be with you--that’s my heaven: + Without you--that’s my hell.’ + +And I have been cast out into utter darkness, and my life has been +desolate and barren long enough. I am going to accept the cup of +happiness held to my lips, and thank God for the love that has come +back to me--Heaven be praised, not too late!” + +He drew her to his side and kissed the red lips with a long, lingering +kiss. + +“My love! my love!” he cried; “you are mine--mine by the laws of heaven +and earth! Thank God for that. Now, Lenore, tell me, where shall I +meet you to-morrow night? The ‘Caspian’ sails the next morning; she is +anchored out at sea. We can go on board my friend Thornton’s yacht at +any hour you name to-morrow night, and he will take us out to where the +‘Caspian’ lies. Once on board her, we are safe. Tell me what hour to +meet you, Lenore.” + +She bent her head for a moment in deep thought. + +“We entertain again to-morrow night,” she said, slowly. “Van Alstyne +would fill his house every night if it were feasible. To-morrow at +eight we give a dinner to some foreign embassadors and half a dozen +bewhiskered, beribboned officers--a score of guests. I can manage to +slip away unobserved from the house at ten, perhaps, and will meet you +in the grounds down by the ornamental lake. You can easily find the +place; there is a marble basin full of gold-fish, and the water is +white with pond-lilies. Be there at ten precisely, Cyril, and I will +join you as soon as possible.” + +“Prepared to go with me at once?” he queried, breathlessly. + +A quick flush shot athwart the ivory whiteness of her face and a tender +light stole into her luminous eyes. + +“Prepared to go with you? Yes,” she made answer. “My life here must +come to an end. Oh, Heaven! if it had only come to an end long ago, +or, better still, had never begun. I hate and scorn and loathe myself, +Cyril, and oh--” + +She stopped short, and her face grew ghastly white. + +“Stay!” she whispered, hoarsely, “I have something to tell you--a +revelation to make, Cyril. Listen: I must tell it quickly, for my +guests will miss me, and I must leave you now.” + +She whispered a few words in his ear. + +He grew pale as death, then he stooped and kissed her. + +“How you have suffered, oh, my love!” he cried; “but all that is +ended now. Good-night, Lenore. I will meet you to-morrow night at the +ornamental lake in the Van Alstyne grounds at ten precisely, and then--” + +His voice died away into a murmur. He stole from the conservatory into +the grounds through a side door which opened for him; and then, pale as +a marble statue, Lenore went back to her guests. + +As soon as she was gone there was a rustling among a group of tall, +feathery palms which grew near, and directly afterward a slight, +_petite_ figure in auburn satin and lace and gleaming, glowing rubies +crept slowly forth. It was Bessie Vernon. Her face was flushed with +unholy triumph, her eyes were scintillating with hatred. + +She had witnessed the entire interview; but they had spoken in such low +tones that she had not caught the conversation, only the last few words +which told of the appointed tryst. + +Her white hands clinched themselves tightly together, and low under her +breath she muttered, hoarsely: + +“He kissed her! I saw him. And they are to meet to-morrow night at ten, +in the grounds. My dear Mrs. Van Alstyne, immaculate Lenore! when that +meeting takes place I shall be there also!” + +And then she went back to the ball-room, and danced all the rest of the +night, with as much carelessness and _abandon_ as though she were not +plotting the downfall of a sister woman. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +“BEWARE!” + + +The clocks throughout the Raleigh mansion were just striking twelve the +day after that exciting scene within its stately walls when the door +bell rang, and Rosamond heard the sound of Bessie Vernon’s voice in +the hall. She had given orders to the footman to show Mrs. Vernon up +to her own room; so a few moments later that lady, in all the glory of +a stylish brown velvet street suit, a big plumed hat shading her arch, +piquant face, entered Miss Raleigh’s presence and sunk wearily into a +seat. + +“Oh, dear, I am tired to death!” she cried, when the greetings were +over; “the demands of society are fearful upon a weak, delicate woman +like me! You know, Rosamond, how we leaders of society are overworked. +Why, we are perfect martyrs. I have attended five balls this week, +the opera and theater, a flower show and a matinée. To-night is the +Van Alstyne dinner, and to-morrow night I have promised to hear ‘Il +Trovatore’ with Vernon’s old uncle, the rich Californian. Awful bore, +and I know the opera by heart; but Charlie Stuart will be there, and I +imagine I shall be able to pull through the evening. You did not appear +at the Van Alstyne’s reception, Rosamond? I forgot to ask you why last +night when I called, on my way to the reception, you know. I thought +then that I had something to tell you--but, dear me! I went straight +to the discovery of developments of a startling nature. I wish you had +been there, Rosamond.” + +Rosamond looked bored. She was out of temper this morning, that was +plain to be seen. + +“Mamma and I had a previous engagement,” she said, coldly, “and were +compelled to decline. But tell me, Bessie, what it is that you have +discovered? I am just dying to know. Something about Lenore--I think +you intimated.” + +Mrs. Vernon’s face assumed a look of awful solemnity. + +“I shrink from telling you, Rosamond!” she said, in a stage whisper. +“After all, Lenore is your own cousin, and it may have an influence +upon your social standing.” + +“What do you mean, Bessie Vernon?” Rosamond started to her feet, pale +with anger. “Explain yourself!” she commanded imperiously. + +Bessie laughed aloud, a clear, ringing, half-mocking laugh. + +“Dear, dear! High tragedy and all that sort of thing! Beats Janauschek +completely! Now, Rosamond, just be calm, and sit down quietly and +listen to me. What I said, I meant; but you will understand me better +later on when I have told my story. First, let me ask you a question: +Have you ever heard of a Mr. Fayne--Mr. Cyril Fayne?” + +Rosamond started uneasily. + +“I have heard the name, I believe,” she returned, evasively. + +“Well, then, possibly you may be better informed than I, and perhaps be +able to account for the strange--the _remarkable_ intimacy between Mr. +Cyril Fayne and Mrs. Lenore Van Alstyne.” + +“Bessie!” + +“Mrs. Lenore Van Alstyne!” repeated Bessie, laconically. “Rosamond, we +are on the track at last of your cousin’s secret. We have long been +convinced--you and I--that she had a secret, and I have found it out. +That secret is her love--her guilty love--for Cyril Fayne!” + +A slow, cruel smile crept over Rosamond’s fair face; her eyes flashed +with a look which was neither sorrow nor regret; one small, pearly hand +clinched itself involuntarily. + +“Go on,” she said, slowly. + +Bessie nodded. + +“I was going on. I am prepared to tell the whole story--just what I +know and saw and heard. I know that Lenore Van Alstyne wears Cyril +Fayne’s portrait in a medallion--the chain riveted about her neck. I +saw them alone together in the conservatory at Van Alstyne’s; she was +in his arms, and he was kissing her for all he was worth! And lastly, +I heard them lay a plot to elope to-night! There! What do you think of +that?” + +For a moment Rosamond Raleigh sat staring her visitor in the face, in +blank horror too deep for expression. + +At last: + +“Bessie, this is--it must be--a practical joke of your own. And I think +it very small in you, and decidedly bad form, knowing as you do how +proud the Raleighs are.” + +Bessie’s face flushed angrily. + +“It is no practical joke, I assure you, Rosamond Raleigh!” she +retorted. “And if you doubt me I can easily prove the truth of my +words. You will be at the Van Alstyne dinner to-night, I suppose. It +is the dinner for the foreign embassadors. I would not miss it for the +world.” + +Rosamond nodded. + +“Of course we will have to attend, since we were not at the reception. +And what is your plan, Bessie?” + +Mrs. Vernon bent her head close to Rosamond’s ear and began to speak in +low, cautious tones. When her story was done she rose to her feet. + +“And now I really must go. I’ve some shopping to do, and time is +flying. What do you think of my plan, Rosamond? Don’t you think it +will be a grand _exposé_? Ah! I have waited and longed for this for +many a long day. My time has come at last. There was never any love +lost between Lenore Van Alstyne and myself, and I imagine that you know +how to appreciate the situation also; for if I am not mistaken, you +never loved her!” + +“I hate her!” cried Rosamond, excitedly. “I have hated her always, and +of late her cold, calm superiority has driven me nearly wild. I would +give something to put down her pride and humble her as she deserves. +All right, Bessie. We will be at the Van Alstynes’ to-night, and then +the curtain will rise upon the overthrow--the everlasting disgrace and +utter ruin of Lenore Van Alstyne.” + +As the words left her lips she turned swiftly about. Something like a +chill seemed creeping slowly over her, and a strange, subtle instinct +warned her of another presence in the room. _What was it?_ + +She caught her breath with a gasp of horror, then shriek after shriek +burst from her lips. For there before her--for bolts nor bars have no +power over spirits--stood the apparition which had so persistently +haunted her, and of which she had fondly persuaded herself she was rid +forever--Noisette! + +She held the amber satin panel in one shadowy hand; the other was +uplifted with a warning gesture; upon the wan, white, shadowy face +a look of angry menace. Slowly the pale lips opened and--oh, it was +horrible to witness--the apparition spoke. + +“_Lenore!_” it said, in a hollow voice. Then, after a moment’s pause, +one more word broke the awful silence. That one word was: “_Beware!_” + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +BESSIE SEES THE GAME. + + +“Rosamond! For the love of Heaven, _what is it?_” + +Mrs. Vernon stood like one turned to stone; her big dark eyes, dilated +with horror, fixed wildly upon the apparition. + +“What--is--it?” she gasped once more, in a faltering whisper. + +No answer--no answer. Rosamond stood, wringing her hands in horror and +affright, screaming like a lunatic. One more glance, and Bessie Vernon +turned and fled, with Rosamond close at her heels--fled from the room +and down the stairs, bursting into the library, where Grafton Raleigh +sat deeply engrossed in the contents of a formidable-looking document +before him. Bursting into the room, they sunk down upon a low couch, +too overcome by terror to utter a word. “The wicked flee when no man +pursueth.” Grafton Raleigh glanced up with a start of surprise at the +interruption--this unceremonious bursting in upon his privacy--and +arose to his feet, his face dark with displeasure. + +“Good-morning, Mrs. Vernon”--in a cold tone. “Why, what is the matter +with my daughter? Rosamond, are you mad?” + +“Mad?” with a hysterical outburst. “No, no! But I shall be mad indeed +before long if that dreadful apparition continues to appear. Oh, papa, +listen! You had the round room closed up, and no one can get in or +out of it, yet I saw just now in my room, standing just where the +communicating door used to be, the apparition--the _something_ of which +I have been telling you so long. And Bessie saw it also.” + +“It is true, Mr. Raleigh, and no mistake about it!” corroborated Mrs. +Vernon. “I saw it just as certainly and distinctly as I ever saw +anything in my life--just as plainly as I see you at this moment! +And--worse than all else--it--” + +“Yes, yes, papa!” interrupted Rosamond, trembling like a leaf and +weeping copiously--“something dreadful occurred! Something which has +never happened before! It--it--_spoke_!” + +“Rosamond, now really this is going a little too far. Bessie, I had +imagined you possessed a little common sense, if Rosamond is deficient. +Do you mean to assert that you too saw an apparition in this house in +broad daylight, and that it--the thing--_spoke_ intelligibly?” + +“Mr. Raleigh, it did!” This from Bessie. + +“Papa, it really did!” repeated Rosamond, wildly. “It spoke two +words--one was ‘Beware!’ the other was ‘Lenore!’ We were speaking of +Lenore at the time the apparition appeared--Bessie and I.” + +“Lenore? You must have misunderstood, daughter. I--I--can’t believe it.” + +“Papa”--desperately--“it is the truth! And we were not mistaken; we +could not be. I suppose it is gone now, and if you were to go up to my +room you would not find it. But I swear to you there is no mistake or +exaggeration in our story; it is all just as we have told you. I wish +you could see for yourself; and then, I suppose, you would believe.” + +“I will take possession of your room,” he said, decidedly, “and will +remain there for a time. Each day hereafter I will make it my business +to spend a portion of the day there to watch, and perhaps I shall be +able to get at the root of the mystery.” + +“But it only appears to _me_!” sobbed Rosamond, wringing her hands +again and again. “It seems to have an especial spite against me--though +if any one is with me in the room they always see it too. Papa, papa! I +can not stay in this house. Let me go away for a time at least--let me +go home with Bessie for a few days. I will die if I am forced to remain +here, liable to meet that horrible thing and--and--hear it speak!” + +And poor Rosamond sobbed aloud in uncontrollable terror and nervous +fear. + +“Yes, come home with me, Rosie!” intervened Mrs. Vernon, her face +lighting up at once. “We will have a pleasant time; and I am expecting +some guests from New York, and I really need an attraction like you, +Rosie. And besides”--in a low tone--“old Arbuthnot, the millionaire, +is to be with us for a few days. Fancy the opportunity for _you_, +Rosamond, to be shut up in the same house with him for perhaps a whole +week! They _do_ say that he is as rich as Crœsus! _Do_ come home with +me, dear!” + +So it was finally arranged, and then Rosamond went to inform her mother +and order a trunk packed; for even one week’s stay necessitated much +baggage. Upstairs to her mother’s room she made her way, passing her +own door with a perceptible shudder. She found Mrs. Raleigh lounging +before the fire in a low chair, her hands folded listlessly in her lap. +In a few moments the strange story was told, and Rosamond announced her +intended departure. Mrs. Raleigh, gazing upon her daughter’s pale, worn +face and great frightened eyes with dark circles beneath, and thinking +of her desperate resort to chloral or some such drug, was only too glad +to consent. But she sighed sadly. + +“I see but little for which to live; small hope in life!” she cried, +in a shrill voice; “my son, my boy, my idol to be sacrificed to a +foolish whim of your father’s. Rosamond, last night when your father +told us that horrible story--of prospective poverty and disgrace--I +thought then that all life was ended for me. But now you are doomed. +I am convinced that your intellect is giving way. You are a perfect +wreck of what you were a few weeks ago. You are beginning to look old +and faded. Yes, go to Bessie Vernon’s if you like; it would kill you to +remain here, haunted as you are. I have never believed in such things +before in my life. I have always looked upon such tales as foolish +superstitions, or falsehoods got up for the purpose of frightening +timid people, and altogether unworthy a sensible person’s notice. But I +declare, Rosamond, it is exceedingly strange and incomprehensible, to +say the least. I always told you to be more careful in your treatment +of Noisette. You were unwarrantably harsh and cruel, and you are being +punished for it now. But what puzzles me most is that you and Bess +should have heard the apparition speak the name of Lenore. What does +it, can it, mean?” + +“Mamma, do you remember when she--Noisette--lay dead, and I--I--saw +the resemblance between her and Lenore Van Alstyne? Mamma, I tell you +I have heard something to-day which proves to me that she is not the +immaculate angel that people think her. I will tell you later on all +about it. But just now I am only anxious to get away. I shall be insane +if I stay here much longer and suffer from this strange, this awful +visitation. Where is Lillian? I want a trunk packed at once.” + +Mrs. Raleigh flashed angrily about. + +“Lillian, indeed!” she panted, wrathfully. “I hope that you do not for +a moment believe that you can retain my Lady Leigh as a waiting-maid? +Why, your fastidious brother is going to commit matrimonial suicide in +a few weeks, I believe! Rosamond, we are a ruined family!” + +Rosamond’s eyes flashed with ominous fire. “Has she left the house?” +she demanded, fiercely. + +Mrs. Raleigh shook her head. + +“She is shut up in her own room. Your father informed her that the +whole house is at her disposal, and that she can do as she pleases. It +pleased her majesty to lock herself up in her own room, and stay there. +I wish”--savagely--“that she would never come out alive!” + +“Amen!” responded Miss Raleigh, fervently. “Well, I suppose I can +manage with the packing somehow; but I can not go into that room alone, +mamma!” + +At this obvious hint Mrs. Raleigh arose and accompanied her daughter +to her luxurious sleeping-room. She was quite pale, and trembled with +excitement. But they found the room unoccupied by human or ghostly +visitant, and just as Rosamond had left it, save for one particular: +Upon a white fur rug which lay near the spot where the apparition had +been standing, there was a round red spot of something which looked +like fresh blood. Trembling visibly, Mrs. Raleigh stooped to examine +it; she drew back with a frightened cry. There was nothing there. + +“Rosamond!” in a husky whisper, “this house _is_ haunted. I will try +to induce your father to put it into the market at once, for I declare +I do not like to live in it. But come now, daughter, do not look so +terrified. I will ring for my maid and have your trunk prepared. You +will go home with Bessie, and amid her gay surroundings you will forget +this unpleasant, uncomfortable affair.” + +Rosamond’s face lighted up with a slow gleam of interest. + +“And I will write a line to Jack at once,” she said, “and tell him of +my departure, so that he will call on me at Bessie’s.” + +Her mother frowned. + +“If I were you I would give up that nonsense, Rosie,” she ventured, in +a low, earnest tone. “I heard yesterday that old Arbuthnot is going to +visit the Vernons. You have heard of him, Rosamond, the railroad king? +What a triumph it would be to become Mrs. Arbuthnot!” + +“And give up Jack? Never, mamma! I have never cared for any man before +in my whole life!” + +Mrs. Raleigh shut her lips tightly together and sighed dolorously. + +“Both my children gone mad over pretty faces!” she ejaculated. “But I +know Richard well enough to believe that he has some ulterior object +in this affair which will be known to us later on. If that surmise +be true--and I can not doubt it after what your father said last +night--why, we can understand Richard’s seemingly unpardonable conduct. +But you, good gracious, Rosamond, you have no sensible excuse for your +folly, none in the world.” + +Rosamond’s thin lips were compressed closely, and a dangerous gleam +shone in her eyes. + +“We will not discuss it now, mamma,” she made answer. “Wait until I +come home again, though I do not know that the idea of returning to +this house is a very lively one--at least, unless this supernatural +visitation should cease. And now ring for Felice, and let me get ready. +Bessie will be tired waiting.” + +But down in the library where she had tarried, Bessie was occupying +herself very much to her own satisfaction. Some one had summoned Mr. +Raleigh from the room, and only waiting to place the document which had +so engrossed him in a drawer, he arose and left the library. + +As soon as he was gone, Mrs. Vernon crept swiftly over to the +escritoire, and stealthily opening the drawer, drew forth the great +yellow parchment with glaring red seals, and opened it hastily. The +first words which met her eyes were these: + +“And to my niece, Lillian Leigh, I give, devise, and bequeath all--” + +Footsteps in the hall without, the turning of the door-knob. Bessie +dropped the document back into the drawer, and closing it, turned to +confront Richard Raleigh. He looked pale and handsome; but there was a +triumphant smile upon his lips, a lurking devil in his dusky eyes. As +they fell upon the lady he started. + +“Ah, Mrs. Vernon,” bowing lowly; “delighted to see you.” + +And the hand which took Bessie’s in its grasp closed down tightly upon +her tiny fingers. “Mother has just informed me that Rosamond is to go +to you for a few days,” he continued. “Now, my dear Mrs. Vernon, surely +you will not shut a poor fellow out of your paradise? You will let me +come sometimes?” + +She laughed lightly. + +“As many times as you please,” she returned. “I shall have some pretty +ladies among my guests, and an escort is always welcome.” + +Richard’s bold, black eyes sparkled. + +“But,” she added, softly, “what is this rumor--oh, a little bird told +me--about your own marriage?” + +His dark face flushed. + +“I have been caught in Cupid’s net!” he laughed, “and may as well cry +out _mea culpa_ to that charge. Seriously, Bessie--you used to let me +call you Bessie--I am intending to marry soon Miss Leigh. She is a poor +girl, but lovely. Coming, father!” he added, as his father’s voice +called his name. + +Five minutes later Bessie Vernon was alone in the library once more, an +odd smile upon her painted lips, her eyes shining like stars. + +“Ah, ha! I see the game at last!” she muttered to herself. “How stupid +not to have seen it before.” + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +GREEK MEETS GREEK. + + +Richard Raleigh left the library at sound of his father’s voice calling +his name, and hastened to an adjacent room where that gentleman awaited +him. Grafton Raleigh’s face was pale and troubled. + +“Get rid of that woman, Rick,” he said in a low, cautious tone; “her +eyes are everywhere at once. She suspects something, and I believe she +never took her eyes off the--the document--after she had first observed +it.” Richard started nervously. His father went on: “If she once gets +her curiosity aroused, you might as well attempt to stay a tornado in +its course as to check or restrain her. Get her out of the library, if +you can; go into the conservatory and talk nonsense--Heaven knows she +is always ready enough to listen! and I will go back to the library and +remove the--the paper. You know Rosamond well enough to compute the +length of time that she will probably keep Mrs. Vernon waiting--long +enough to ruin us, Rick, if she sees anything more to arouse her +curiosity. And that paper is so extremely conspicuous; and she and +Rosamond burst in upon me so unexpectedly that I had no time to conceal +it. I shall be more careful to lock the door another time.” + +Pale and looking very uncomfortable, Richard retraced his steps to the +library. As he entered the room Bessie had just arisen to her feet, +about to return to her investigations in the escritoire. At sound of +the opening door she started guiltily. + +“Ah!” she cried, as her eyes fell upon Richard, “you are back +again, and I am glad! I am tired waiting for Rosamond. She is an +unconscionably long time getting ready!” pouting bewitchingly as she +stood with her long black eyelashes drooping over her great, velvety +eyes--downcast, as though unable to bear the look of plainly expressed +admiration from Richard Raleigh’s dusky orbs riveted upon her. + +“Come into the conservatory, Bessie,” he pleaded. “I want to talk to +you.” + +She followed him as obediently as a child, and they entered the +conservatory together. Moving down the long aisle between rows of bloom +and verdure, she lifted her eyes to his face, with a question in their +innocent depths. No one knew better than Bessie Vernon how to enact the +rôle of innocence and childishness. + +“How long has this little affair been going on, Richard,” she asked, +with assumed timidity, “this--this love affair with Miss Leigh? By the +way, have I ever met her? The name sounds strangely familiar. Wasn’t +there a man by the name of Leigh killed a short time ago?” + +He fell backward with a suppressed cry, which ended in an impatient +exclamation as his foot came in contact with a rustic jardinière which +fell to the floor with a crash, depositing a great glazed jar filled +with lovely blue Mexican torrinias upon the floor at his feet. + +Half angrily he stooped to rescue the plants. Then, summoning the +gardener, he left him to repair the damage, and moved calmly away at +Mrs. Vernon’s side, with as much nonchalance as though a fifty-dollar +jardinière and a ruined collection of rare plants worth their weight in +gold to the connoisseur were matters of the greatest indifference to +him. + +“Now, Bessie,” in a low tone, as he led her away to a retired nook +amid great trailing rose-vines, “don’t annoy me with your chaff about +marrying a poor girl. If I could have had my own way, I would have +met another, a sweeter fate. If I could have won the beautiful woman +whom I have admired above all others,” with a tender gaze into her +downcast, blushing face, a look which spoke volumes, “then I would have +had a chance at happiness. But as it is,” with a deep sigh, “I must--I +have--resigned all hope; for she, alas! is the wife of another man!” + +“Rick!” in a tone of remonstrance, but at the same time one little hand +stole into his with a faint, wavering touch, “you must not speak in +that way. It is wrong, awfully wrong; and what would Vernon say?” + +Richard smiled sadly. + +“He would say that he has had the best of it in the race for the prize. +Bessie, why did you not give me a chance--half a chance--to win you?” + +She turned shyly away. + +“Don’t ask such foolish questions,” she returned. “Run away now like a +good boy, and see if Rosamond is ever coming.” + +“I will not.” + +He glanced furtively about. Barnes, the gardener, had removed the +_débris_, and quietly retired. They were alone in that retired nook in +the conservatory. Richard lifted Mrs. Vernon’s hand to his lips. + +“No, I will not go and leave you!” he cried, eagerly. “I have sought an +interview with you for a long time, Bessie, and sought in vain. This is +my chance now, and I am going to avail myself of it. Bessie! Bessie! +don’t turn away from me so coldly, sweetheart--” + +He sunk into a seat at her side, for she had seated herself upon a +carved divan amid the fragrant Maréchal Niel roses, whose perfume +loaded the air. He took her hand in his and drew the dusky head down +upon his shoulder. She started up with a little cry. + +“Don’t! Oh, Rick, it is shameful in you! I--I have always cared, of +course. I might indeed have more than liked you in time if--if--well, +fate hadn’t decreed that I should marry Arnold Vernon! It is too late +now to talk about it--too late!” + +The little sinner had never thought of such a thing as marrying Richard +Raleigh, or caring for him either, for that matter, though she had +known him all her life. But the situation was strong, and the effect +too much of a temptation to be resisted. But Bessie Vernon was destined +to pay dearly for that moment of sentimental folly. + +Richard sighed deeply. + +“You are Arnold Vernon’s wedded wife, and I--I am going to marry +Lillian Leigh!” he said, slowly. + +“Why should you?” she asked, softly; “you need not marry any one, +Richard, if you--do--not love her! And I do not see what you gain by +this marriage. She is a poor girl!” with a swift, keen glance into his +startled face, “and I see no object in marrying her at all if you do +not--if--you care a little for some one--else!” + +He smiled caressingly. + +“You are a dear little woman, Bessie,” he said, softly, his dark eyes +upon her face with bold admiration; “but you do not understand a man’s +heart. We are often compelled to submit to much that is unpalatable, +and forego many joys that would make us happy if attainable. + + “‘Much must be borne which is hard to bear; + Much given away which it were sweet to keep,’ + +Owen Meredith tells us; and Owen speaks from extended experience. +We have, all of us, to bear our burdens and keep silent, and try to +make as much out of this life as we can. And you would not doom me to +lasting loneliness, Bessie?” + +“To be sure not. Hush! Is not that Rosamond coming at last?” + +“Yes, confound her! So my blissful moment is over! Bessie, I have +something to say to you, and I must communicate with you in some way. +May I write to you? Will you answer the letter? It will make me very +happy to confide my griefs to you, if you will permit me to write.” + +Silence! Light footsteps drawing nearer and nearer, and then a shrill +voice, calling loudly: + +“Bessie! Bessie! where are you? I am ready and waiting.” + +“Answer me, Bessie. Will you reply to my letter? Don’t refuse me. I +swear you will never regret it. I want your advice; and I must speak my +mind for once, for, oh! I have suffered! May I write? Will you reply?” + +The door of the conservatory opened, and Rosamond’s eyes roved through +the flower-scented place. + +“Bessie! Ah, yes, there you are! Well, come, dear; I am all ready.” + +“Answer me!” reiterated Richard, in a low tone. “Yes or no? Rosie’s +coming in--be quick! Which is it to be?” + +“Yes.” + +A gleam of devilish triumph flashed into his dusky eyes and lighted up +his face. He caught her hand in his and pressed his lips upon it, and +then Bessie Vernon arose. + +She was quite pale, and looked uneasy. Already conscience was pricking +her with its sharp sting, and reminding her that she had done wrong. +Yet it was only a brief reminder, for Bessie Vernon was not troubled +with an undue amount of conscience. + +And then they joined Rosamond at the door of the conservatory, and +a little later the two ladies drove away to the elegant home of the +Vernons. And then Richard went back to his father. + +Grafton Raleigh was waiting for his son in the library, upon his pale +face a look of perturbation. + +“Our fears are well founded,” he began, as soon as his son had entered +the room; “that meddling woman has certainly been looking at that +document! Why? Because this is not the way in which I placed it in the +drawer. I remember perfectly, and indeed I was cautious enough to place +it in a certain position, that I might know if it should be displaced. +If only that fellow Buckley had not called just then! I knew that his +business with me was urgent, or I would have declined seeing him. But +he saved me a hundred dollars by the call, for he gave me a pointer +which will prevent the loss of at least that much. Yet it would have +been better to have lost fifty times one hundred than to let Bessie +Vernon get hold of our secret. The sly little cat! She is always where +she isn’t wanted, and it seems as if she were destined to find out all +our family affairs. Rick, I’m afraid of that woman.” + +“I am not.” + +Richard spoke quietly, but there was a meaning tone in the low, soft, +sneering voice. + +“Just leave all that to me, father, and I agree to close Bessie +Vernon’s lips effectually--so effectually that no matter what happens +she will not dare to speak. Don’t ask me how or why. I have not wasted +a moment of time this morning. I know her nature; her insatiable love +of conquest, and her vanity which is never satisfied. I have made hay +while the sun shines; I have won her sympathy through her overweening +vanity, and I am not afraid of Bessie Vernon or all that she may +know. I am no more afraid of any developments which she may make than +I am afraid of the wind. What troubles me in regard to this deuced +unpleasant business is, whether or no Lillian has begun to suspect.” + +“The deuce! We had better be dead if that be true.” + +Richard nodded. + +“And so I say, father, that the sooner the marriage is over, and she +becomes my property, the better for our cause. Shall I endeavor to +bring about the marriage in a few days?” + +“Days?” Grafton Raleigh started. “If you can--all right, of course,” +he returned, thoughtfully; “the sooner the better. Can not you touch +Lillian’s pride and arouse her jealousy, so that she will be goaded +into consent to an immediate marriage?” + +Richard’s face grew grave. + +“I will send for her to come down to the drawing-room,” he said. “She +shall appoint our wedding-day at once, and the sooner the better. I +know how to manage her; never fear, father! And--ahem!--I fancy I can +manage Bessie Vernon also.” + +He rang the bell, and when a servant appeared he sent him to request +Miss Leigh to come down to the drawing-room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +IN AMBUSH. + + +“Come up to your room, Rosamond. See! I have given you one across the +hall from mine. Our guests will arrive shortly, and Arnold is down +in the drawing-room, waiting with as much patience as a man usually +bestows upon his wife. Make haste, dear, and get off your wraps, while +I run down and pacify him.” + +And Bessie Vernon, just arrived at the handsome home which claimed her +as its mistress, flitted from the room. + +Rosamond laid aside her hat and wrap, and seated herself before the +cheerful fire in the pretty blue-and-gold chamber--a triumph of modern +art and æsthetic taste. + +“Jack will be surprised,” she said to herself, as she leaned her head +against the puffy blue satin chair-back and closed her eyes languidly. +“But he will call to-night to join our party bound for the Van Alstyne +dinner. And after that--” She arose slowly to her feet, and moved over +to the window, her face full of triumph, and her eyes shining with +malice--the malice of a woman who hates another with all her heart, +and sees a way open to vent her cruel spite upon her. “Ah! Lenore Van +Alstyne,” she hissed, bleakly, “you have had your day--my turn is +coming now. You have queened it over me in the past, it is my hour of +triumph now. I hate her--the cold, proud, grand lady, who makes us all +feel our inferiority; but I shall be even with her yet. I see the way +open before me.” + +She hated Lenore with all the hatred of which her narrow mind was +capable. Her nature was cruel and vindictive, and she would leave no +stone unturned to humiliate the woman so much her superior. A rap at +the door of her room made her turn swiftly. + +“Let me in, Rosamond!” called Mrs. Vernon’s voice through the key-hole. +“I want to tell you something.” + +A little later Rosamond and her hostess were sitting before the fire, +while Bessie chattered volubly away. + +“He is coming here to-night, after the Van Alstyne dinner--Mr. +Arbuthnot, I mean, Rosamond--and, dear me, you incorrigible girl! you +pretend not to understand; but I mean--here it is in plain English--I +mean that you shall marry him!” + +“Bessie!” + +“I mean that you shall become Mrs. Arbuthnot before many months are +past,” repeated Mrs. Vernon, impressively. “Your coming here is just +providential. I had been wanting you here for Mr. Arbuthnot’s visit, +and fate has decreed that you should come.” + +“But, Bessie, I--” + +“Oh, yes! I suppose it is quite in order for you to respectfully +decline, etc., but all the same I will wager that you will marry Mr. +Arbuthnot. True, he is old, but money, like charity, covers a multitude +of sins and short-comings. And, besides, you will stand a chance of +being a rich widow some day--a real queen--living in royal state. In +which case you will not forget your old friend Bess. Eh, Rosamond?” + +Rosamond laughed uneasily. + +“You are speaking of impossibilities,” she returned, coldly. “I may as +well tell you now as later. My affections are already engaged. I love +one of the noblest men in the world,” she added, with a tragical air. + +Mrs. Vernon arose to her feet, and with both white jeweled hands +uplifted in dumb surprise, turned slowly around upon one foot, like a +revolving automaton, and gazed full into Rosamond’s anxious face. Then +she burst into a peal of silvery laughter. + +“Rosamond, you are the funniest girl--just too awfully funny for +anything. Your affections! Who in the world said anything about +affections? I was speaking of marriage. You love the noblest man, and +so on. Dear, dear! you’ll be the death of me, Rosamond! And, come what +may, I still adhere to my opinion that you will win old Arbuthnot, the +railroad king. He is already interested in you. He saw you with me +one day, when we were driving in the park, and he asked me afterward +who you were. Said that he had never seen a more queenly lady, and +that there was something about you which reminded him of the late Mrs. +Arbuthnot.” + +Rosamond shuddered. + +“Don’t, Bessie!” she cried, angrily. “I will tell you plainly that I--I +care more for Mr. Lyndon than for any man in the universe.” + +Bessie shrugged her shoulders with a gesture of mock surprise. + +“The end of the world is at hand,” she exclaimed, laughingly. “Now, +Rosamond, you know as well as I that you will never marry that +newspaper scribbler--never! No, not though you go to your grave +unwedded, which I am certain is an act of which you will never be +guilty. Why, it is perfectly laughable. The idea of you, only daughter +of Grafton Raleigh, millionaire, to think seriously for one moment of a +poor newspaper scribbler! Of course I understand; it is merely a jest +of yours, Rosie. And now I am going to ring for refreshments. We will +have a cozy lunch together, after which it will be time to dress for +the affair at Van Alstyne’s.” + + * * * * * + +The great dining-hall of the Van Alstyne mansion was brilliantly +illuminated. The sheen of light fell athwart the long table with its +glittering array of gold and silver, and brought out into strong relief +the gorgeous uniforms of the foreign officers and the rich toilets of +the ladies. + +At the head of the table sat Lenore, in a robe of rich black lace, +through which her snowy arms and shoulders gleamed like polished +marble. Inky black was the entire costume, lighted up by the shimmering +topaz ornaments that she wore--yellow and uncanny. Her face was as pale +as death, save for a round red spot which looked like the hectic flush +of fever. Her eyes were calm and proud as they swept the glittering +assemblage, her red lips slightly curling as though with utter scorn. +Rosamond and Mrs. Vernon watched her with furtive eyes. Rosamond in +pale-blue silk and white lace, Bessie in a bewildering combination of +scarlet and gold. Mr. Arbuthnot had been duly presented to Rosamond, +who saw before her a red-faced, rather pompous-looking old man who +seemed to feel the dignity of his own position; and also he seemed to +be really attracted by Miss Raleigh’s charms. At last the banquet was +at an end, and the guests filed back to the drawing-room. The clocks +all over the great house struck the hour of ten. + + * * * * * + +“Cyril, I am here.” + +“Lenore! Oh, I feared that something was wrong, that all had been +discovered and our flight prevented. For it is better for you that +we go away quietly. But, Heaven be praised, you have come at last! +My darling, I have waited not so very long when the time is computed +by moments, but counted by the suffering of suspense which I have +endured, it has been an eternity. Lenore, are you ready to go at once? +Thornton’s yacht is down in the harbor and the boat is waiting to take +us thither. You leave no regrets behind, Lenore?” + +She laughed, a low, scornful laugh. + +“Regrets? Good heavens! This is the real beginning of my life! Cyril, I +have taken nothing which that man ever gave me. I have left my jewels, +my wardrobe--all; this plain merino dress was purchased with money +of my own, which I earned before I ever saw Van Van Alstyne. Nothing +of his goes with me. Come, I am ready. The air of this place--his +possessions--stifle me. You have written the letter, Cyril?” + +“I have written the letter. Senator Van Alstyne will find it in his +room whenever he sees fit to enter it. And then he will learn the whole +truth, and he will know that I am only claiming my own--that there is +no sin--no crime in the step which we are taking. Lenore, love of my +life, let us go!” + +In the shrubbery close beside them three dark forms were crouching, +watching the scene in perfect silence--Bessie Vernon, Rosamond Raleigh, +and Senator Van Alstyne. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +HER FLIGHT. + + +How still it was! Nothing to break the strange, uncanny silence of the +scene and the hour only the wind moaning feebly in the tree-tops. The +moon came forth from behind a mass of fleecy white clouds, and gazed +down upon the group crouching in ambush--the three who had hunted this +woman down to gloat over her ruin. + +Cyril Fayne’s arms were about Lenore; her head rested upon his breast. +One brief pause of blissful silence, then they flitted away through the +shrubbery, in the pale radiance of the moonlight, straight to a side +gate which led from the grounds. + +Not a word was spoken; not a sound betrayed the excitement which +quivered through the waiting group. Bessie Vernon flashed about at last +and clutched Rosamond’s arm in a nervous grip. + +“Look at Van Alstyne!” she whispered. “He looks like a galvanized +corpse. Van Alstyne!” she called, softly, “are you dumb or dead? Don’t +you see that they are going--gone? Why don’t you make your way around +to the front and intercept them? No doubt there is a carriage in +waiting to take them away, and I happen to know that Harvey Thornton’s +yacht, ‘White Wings,’ is in the bay. I suppose he has an object in +anchoring there. Van Alstyne! in the name of Heaven, why don’t you do +something? They will be gone; and if nothing is done it will be too +late to spoil their game and put an end to their flight.” + +And it never once occurred to this volatile butterfly that this man had +planned deeper, more terrible revenge than the mere circumvention of +the plan of escape together could ever have visited upon the two. + +Slowly Van Van Alstyne turned, and his eyes met the gaze of the woman +who had plotted so well and successfully. Bessie shivered. + +“Don’t look at me like that!” she cried. “Go! You have your revolver; I +saw it in your hand a moment ago. Why not use it? Not to--to kill--of +course not; that would be so dreadfully low and common--but it would +frighten them and make a scene. Then she will be disgraced forever.” + +He turned slowly and faced her once more. He lifted his right hand +toward heaven--upon his face a look that was bad to see. He had gnawed +his under lip until the blood was beginning to trickle down upon his +stubbly beard. + +“Curse her! Curse them both!” he hissed, bleakly. “My curse follow them +wherever they go! I curse them living--I curse them dead! No, I shall +not follow them, Bessie Vernon; I shall remain where I am and let them +take their departure undisturbed. Their punishment will be greater than +my disgrace. Let us return to the house. My plan of vengeance will soon +be revealed to you. I think it will satisfy even you.” + +The _dénouement_ was so unexpected, this turn in affairs something +of which Bessie had not even dreamed, and for which she was totally +unprepared, she could only stand and stare blankly into Van Alstyne’s +pale, resolute face. + +“I do not understand you,” she faltered. “How can you punish her if +you allow her to go on and elope with the man of her choice? You might +prevent the elopement, and then you could have held the threat of +public exposure and disgrace over her head in future--for the rest of +her natural life. My word for it, she would rather be dead than in your +power in that way. She would have been your slave henceforth; for in +case of any insubordination, a gentle reminder of her secret--in your +power--would bring my lady to her senses. Van Van Alstyne, I don’t +understand you. If Arnold were in your place now, how he would rant and +rave! He would be like a madman!” + +“But I am not Arnold Vernon, and if I were, I am afraid I should do as +I am doing now!” he returned, still with that same ominous quiet in +tone and manner. “You will understand me later,” he added, with a grim +smile. “Believe me, Mrs. Vernon, I am quite competent to manage this +affair for myself. I advise you and Miss Raleigh to return to the house +now; I will follow directly. Ah, I see young Stuart coming; he will +escort you.” + +A tall, fair-haired young fellow, with great gray eyes and an air of +nonchalance, made his way through the shrubbery and halted. + +“Hope I don’t intrude; eh, Mrs. Vernon? Regular Paul Pry, am I not? Do +let me take you back to the house,” adding in a low tone, as Bessie +promptly laid her hand upon his arm: “We will go around by the longest +way.” + +Rosamond was taken in charge by a bewhiskered foreign officer, and +they all moved away together, leaving the senator alone. His face was +as white as the face of a dead man; his hands were clinched fiercely +together; he was trembling in every limb. + +“Deserted!” he said, aloud, the word cutting in upon the silence like +a knife; “deserted, abandoned, defied, made a mock of; I, senator and +millionaire, one of the richest men in the city, one whose word is law, +and who controls millions! Deserted by a pale-faced, trembling woman +because she does not, and never did, love me, but loves another man! +Ah--h!” + +He gnashed his teeth in impotent rage. His pride was hurt, his +self-love wounded, his vanity immolated, and he stood like a skeleton +stripped of its flesh, alone in a howling wilderness, with only the +vultures of social scorn to prey upon him. Otherwise he was alone. + +“Alone!” he muttered, harshly, after a time. “Well, I am no more alone +now than when she was with me. For we have always been apart. How I +hate her for the contumely, the shame, the humiliation that she has +brought upon my name! But I shall have revenge. If she were here now, +if she had returned to me a moment ago, or should even yet come back, +I would drag her into the house which she has disgraced, into the +presence of my guests, and tell the shameful story before them all. I +would have no pity, no mercy, nothing but revenge. That letter!” he +panted, as he strode hastily back to the house. “I will find the letter +which that villain said had been placed in my room for my perusal--yes, +I will read it, and then I shall know if the course which I have marked +out for myself be a wise one.” + +He shut his lips resolutely together, and hastened around to a side +entrance to the brilliantly lighted mansion. + +Once within the house, he hurried upstairs to his own room, and closed +its door behind him. + +Upon the elegant dressing-table, with full-length mirror and with all +its costly toilet accessories, the gleam of a white envelope attracted +his attention. He snatched it up and tore it open with all the haste +and passion of a madman. + +Several sheets of paper met his view, all covered with writing. +He recognized the chirography which he had seen upon the envelope +addressed to Lenore, and an imprecation passed his lips. Then, still +clutching the letter in one trembling hand, he sunk into the nearest +seat and began to read. + +Down-stairs, Rosamond Raleigh and Mrs. Vernon had taken upon themselves +the task of entertaining the guests--assuming control of the +festivities. + +Mrs. Van Alstyne had been taken suddenly ill, and had gone to her room. +She would be down directly. Senator Van Alstyne had been summoned away +for a short time upon imperative business. + +Lame excuses, but all that could be invented upon short notice. + +The evening wore away, and the guests seemed to have accepted the +strange absence of both host and hostess with unprecedented good nature. + +Bessie Vernon was in her element, for Charlie Stuart never left her +side. And Arnold Vernon, watching the pair from the corner where he sat +conversing with some ladies, frowned severely and looked as black as a +thunder-cloud; but all of no avail. He could no more prevent his wife’s +mad flirtations than he could turn the waves of the ocean from their +course. He could only sit and glower moodily upon the scene, and, as +Bessie definitely declared, hate himself to death. + +She flitted past him leaning upon Charlie’s arm, her piquant face +uplifted to his, while saucy retort and witty repartee flashed from one +to the other. And gradually the elements of a tragedy were evolved from +the giddy foolishness--the overweening vanity of this pleasure-loving +wife. + +In the meantime Cyril Fayne was hastening on with Lenore toward where, +in a secluded corner, a closed carriage stood in waiting. A little +later they were safe inside, and the carriage drove away like mad in +the direction of the harbor, a half mile distant. Pale as marble and +trembling like a leaf, Lenore crouched upon the seat at his side, one +hand pressed over her heart throbbing madly, the other grasping his arm +with a despairing clutch, as though she feared that he might be taken +from her. + +“Cyril,” she cried, fearfully, “what if he discovers our flight and +follows us? Oh, he is fearful in his anger and brute violence. It makes +my heart quail to even think of him and the day that he struck me--” + +She stopped short, the words dying upon her lips, as Cyril Fayne caught +her in his arms, muttering a mad imprecation. + +“Struck you? Oh, Lenore, Lenore, you never told me that. Struck you? +How dared he, the villain, the base, vile wretch! Ah, Senator Van +Alstyne, ours will be a terrible reckoning when the day comes in which +we shall stand face to face. Hear me, Lenore: If the day ever comes +when I shall stand in that man’s presence, I shall shoot him down as I +would shoot a mad dog!” + +“Cyril!” + +“I shall kill him!” he repeated, grimly. “The same world can not hold +Van Van Alstyne and me. For your sake I submit now and will do no +violence, but Heaven help him if we chance to meet. It drives me mad to +think of it. To dare raise his cowardly hand against a woman, and that +woman--you--my own wife!” + +He kissed the sweet red lips again and again as the carriage rolled +onward. It came to a halt at last and Cyril hastily alighted. Lenore +peered cautiously forth into the night. The moon had gone down and all +was in darkness--a heavy gloom which hung over the earth like a pall. +But a short distance away she caught the gleam of waves rising and +falling with a low musical murmur, while off upon the water, a faint +light twinkled like a star. The light is Harvey Thornton’s yacht, +“White Wings.” Cyril lifted Lenore to the ground. She clung to him +with a frightened gesture. + +“Oh, Cyril, has any one followed us? Has he--found out--do you think?” + +Cyril shook his head. + +“I see no one--nothing,” he made answer. “And now, my darling, we must +make haste to the boat, and in a short time we will be safe upon the +‘White Wings.’” + +One long, eager, searching glance up and down the beach, and down the +long, winding country road by which they had come, then Lenore slipped +her hand through his arm, and he led her away to where a tiny skiff +rocked idly to and fro at the end of its long chain. A little delay and +they were safe within the boat, flying over the water like a bird, in +the direction of the anchored yacht. + +“Love,” he bent his head and looked into her eyes, “it is you and I +will move upon life’s tempestuous sea. Do you regret the past? Are you +glad that I came back to you?” + +“Cyril!” + +One swift glance into his handsome dark face, but it told plainer far +than words her heart’s content. He bent with fresh energy to the oars, +and so at last the yacht was reached and they were safe on board. Half +an hour later the yacht was pushing on, making rapid headway far out at +sea. + + * * * * * + +Van Van Alstyne read the letter that Cyril Fayne had written--read +it in ominous silence--his lips sternly compressed, his face ghastly +white, his eyes blood-shot and fierce with rage. It was finished at +last. He crushed the letter up into a ball, and tossed it into a drawer +in his escritoire, locking it securely. For a few moments he stood +as still as death, an awful look upon his white, drawn face. Then he +wheeled about sullenly and entered his dressing-room. Having bathed +his face and restored his disordered attire, he was quite himself +once more. Forcing a smile to his bloodless lips, he went down to the +drawing-room from which he had so long absented himself. He advanced +into the center of the room and the sight of him somehow checked the +merry badinage of the gay crowd, and laughter died a speedy death. +Pale and stern he faced them. Ah! he was going to taste the sweets of +revenge now. + +“My friends,” he began in a clear, distinct voice, “I must apologize +for my unwarrantable neglect of my guests to-night. I have a revelation +to make. Mrs. Lenore Van Alstyne has left her home forever. She has +gone away in the night and darkness. She has disgraced herself and me, +and heaped humiliation upon the name of Van Alstyne. She has fled with +her lover, Cyril Fayne.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +VAN ALSTYNE’S REVENGE. + + +When Van Van Alstyne spoke those words--those cruel, awful words--he +was speaking falsely, and he knew it. For the letter which he had found +in his room--the letter which Cyril Fayne had written--had told the +whole truth. And Van Alstyne had set his teeth hard together over a +fearful imprecation, while he vowed an awful vengeance upon the woman +who had left him forever. + +“I will not kill her,” he muttered, hoarsely. “Oh, no! she would be +out of her misery then. And I will not pursue them and punish them; +for they would publish their story far and near, and would win all +sympathy; and I would be looked upon as an old tyrant from whose +clutches Lenore had escaped to a brighter, happier life. If the world +knew the truth--knew the contents of this letter--she would have all +sympathy and her course would be universally approved. And they have +played directly into my hands by not coming out openly and declaring +the truth. But Cyril Fayne--curse him!--would spare her every pang, +every sorrow. He has taken her away to a foreign land, but they will +return some day; and when that time comes, they will return to find +themselves ostracized by all respectable people, condemned by public +opinion, shunned as moral lepers. That is my revenge! Who shall say +that it is not sweet?” + +And then he had walked quietly down-stairs to the drawing-room, and +repeated to the assembled guests the story of Lenore Van Alstyne’s +downfall. He attempted no palliation, asked no leniency for the fallen +woman; but coarsely, brutally told the tale which was destined to +blight a woman’s whole life. + +After that there was little desire for merry-making. Not that they +grieved so much over Lenore; she was not a general favorite. She was +too cold and quiet, too honest and sincere to be appreciated or widely +liked. Not being a hypocrite, she would not sully her white soul with +deceit, and pretend to a friendship which she did not feel. She + + “Walked too straight for fortune’s end + And loved too true to keep a friend.” + +And now she must suffer for her honesty and sincerity. In fashionable +society this is inevitable. + +One by one the guests took their departure. A few of the older +gentlemen seemed inclined to tarry; perhaps for the purpose of offering +sympathy and consolation. But Van Alstyne coolly dismissed them all +with a stiff “Thanks for your sympathy, old friend; I do not require +it. I have seen the coming ruin for some time, and I have shielded her +and covered up her sins and short-comings because she was my wife. But +now that that which was hidden has become clear, I have no more to say. +I prefer to be alone. Good-night, gentlemen.” + +Once left alone in his deserted house, Van Van Alstyne went quietly +upstairs, where he lighted a bronze hand-lamp. Then, lamp in hand, he +turned in the direction of the suite of rooms which had been occupied +by his wife, separate and distinct from his own. He paused upon a +white fur rug before the great carved Gothic door, and slowly turned +the silver knob. There were three rooms in the suite--sleeping-room, +dressing- and bath-room--all connected, and only separated from each +other by crimson velvet portières. The sleeping-room was all in +crimson, with dashes of old gold, with exquisite lace hangings, and +carved rosewood furniture. The dainty satin-covered bed was smooth +and untouched. The black lace robe which she had worn that night was +flung across the foot, and heaped upon the marble toilet-table were +the topaz ornaments, gleaming and glittering like weird, uncanny eyes. +Van Alstyne opened a drawer in the toilet-table. There were her jewel +cases; every jewel reposed upon the white satin bed; not one had been +removed. A second drawer was filled to the brim with rare and costly +laces--point, Mechlin, duchess, Valenciennes--of the most costly +pattern and dainty workmanship. + +The great carved wardrobes were overflowing with rich and costly +garments. Silks, satins, velvets, furs. Her Russian sables had been the +envy of half the city that winter. + +Van Alstyne paused to place the bronze lamp upon the toilet-table, +while he stood glaring about him with ferocious eyes. He looked like a +tiger--blood-thirsty, cruel--as he stood there, his small, snaky eyes +growing red and blood-shot, his hands clutching the empty air as though +his fingers were about her throat. Then, with a sudden bound and a +hoarse imprecation, he darted forward like one possessed with the very +frenzy of madness. He snatched up the costly lace robe--the dress which +she had last worn--and rent it into unsightly fragments, heaping them +upon the fire which burned smolderingly upon the marble hearth. + +Once given over to the evil spirit which had entered his body, he +behaved like a demon. He tore down the beautiful dresses from the +wardrobe, and tearing them into tatters, piled them high upon the +hearth. The flames crawled over them and thrust their fiery tongues +through the silk and satin and velvet sheen, consuming, ruining, +blackening, destroying. Then he opened the jewel caskets and tossed +their contents upon the velvet carpet, setting his boot-heel upon them +in vindictive fury, grinding them into fragments. It was an awful sight. + +He came to a pause only when he had wrought utter ruin and desolation. +The frightened servants, aroused from the slumber which they had +only just sought, made their way at length to their lady’s chamber. +It was then that the maniac grew quiet, and turning abruptly upon +them, ordered the fire to be extinguished and the servants to retire. +Tremblingly they obeyed him; and when they had gone away again Van Van +Alstyne locked the outer door of the suite of rooms which had been +Lenore’s, and slipping the key into his pocket, went slowly down the +great carved staircase, through the outer door into the gloom without. +It was the dark hour which always comes before day, a dense darkness +which could almost be felt. But through the gloom Van Alstyne made +his way as straight as a die down to the fountain in the midst of the +marble basin, upon whose surface water-lilies were thickly matted +together. It was a deep and treacherous pool, which had been turned +into an ornament for the Van Alstyne grounds. Although not large, it +was almost fathomless; and the marble sides served as ornaments, and at +the same time marked a spot which would otherwise be dangerous. + +Once here, Van Alstyne halted, and drawing the key from his pocket +dropped it into the glistening pool. A few ripples, and it found bottom +somewhere; and then with a muttered curse he turned away. + +Plunging into the shrubbery near, he made his way back to the +house--the lonely, deserted house--and up to his own chamber, where, +hastily disrobing, he threw himself upon his bed, and after a time fell +into a heavy, dreamless sleep. + +The following evening the city newspapers were teeming with sensational +paragraphs--just such paragraphs as would drive a proud, sensitive +woman to commit suicide. And thus they told the story of Lenore Van +Alstyne’s downfall: + + “ELOPEMENT IN HIGH LIFE!” + +“It is with pain that we chronicle the disgrace and desolation which +have fallen upon the palatial mansion of one of our most influential +citizens. And while our hearts bleed with sympathy for him, we can only +condemn the base woman who has been the cause of all this sorrow. + +“Last night, at the elegant mansion of a certain millionaire, a grand +entertainment was given. The hostess, a beautiful brunette, received +her guests in apparently her usual spirits; but a little past ten +o’clock she disappeared from the drawing-room, and her guests saw her +no more. + +“She went to meet her lover, a foreigner, who has been quite marked +in his attentions to her of late. It seems that an elopement had been +planned which was successfully carried out. She has fled with her +lover, this false woman who has brought sorrow to her fond husband’s +heart and ruin to the home which was once hers. + +“A shadow black as the regions of torment will rest upon her memory, +and henceforth the name of Lenore Van Alstyne will be a synonym for +everything base and vile. Lost, ruined, irretrievably and forever, it +is to be hoped that she will never return to this place. It is believed +that the guilty pair have gone to Europe. + +“Our distinguished townsman has our earnest sympathy in his +affliction. But such a woman will not be deeply mourned by the +community, or long missed.” + + * * * * * + +Seated in the Hotel de Ville, Paris, glancing over an American +newspaper, Lenore read these lines--the awful, condemning words which +made her heart stand still with wordless horror and blank despair--and +she understood. The man whom she had left had purposely ignored the +letter, and kept silent in regard to its contents--that letter which +would have made plain the whole bitter truth. + +“This is his revenge,” she murmured, brokenly, “and the end is not yet!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +GONE TO HER DOOM. + + +Richard Raleigh had sent a message by a servant to Lillian, requesting +her to come down to the drawing-room for a few moments. He had made up +his mind that she must be his wife at once. There were reasons--grave +and imperative reasons--why the marriage should take place immediately. + +Grafton Raleigh, writhing under the burden of conscious guilt which +he carried ever with him, awaited Lillian’s appearance with as much +feverish impatience as Richard himself. + +Up and down the great library paced Grafton Raleigh, his hands folded +behind his back, his pale face full of moody light as he paced to and +fro, listening intently for some sound from the drawing-room which +would tell him that Lillian had obeyed the summons. + +But there was no light footstep upon the staircase, no low, sweet voice +was heard, no sign of Lillian’s coming. Grafton Raleigh halted at the +door of the library, which stood slightly ajar, and bent his head to +listen. Down the stairs at last came the echo of footsteps, slow and +measured; a moment more and the servant who had been sent to summon +Lillian paused before Richard, who had hastened into the entrance hall +to meet him. + +“Well, what was Miss Leigh’s answer,” he demanded, hurriedly; “is she +coming?” + +He was too eager and anxious to appear his usual cold, stately self. +The man’s stolid face wore a look of surprise. + +“If you please, Mr. Richard,” he returned, obsequiously, “the young +lady is not there!” + +“Not there! What do you mean?” cried Richard, harshly. + +At sound of his angry voice Grafton Raleigh stepped out into the hall. +The man bowed deprecatingly. + +“Miss Leigh is not in her room, sir, I assure you,” he said. “I rapped +at the door several times, but received no answer, and then I asked +Felice to go in and look. She rapped, and still no answer. She then +ventured to open the door, which was not locked, and she reported to me +that Miss Leigh was not in her room. The fire is out, and no trace of +Miss Leigh, so Felice reported; and then I came down at once to you, +Mr. Richard.” + +Richard’s face was as pale as death. He dismissed the servant and +followed his father into the library. Once alone in the room, the two +men stood staring at each other with eyes full of blank bewilderment +and horror too deep for words. + +“She has gone away to escape me!” panted Richard, angrily. “The girl +must be mad! Or, father, some one may have told her--all!” + +Grafton Raleigh shook his head slowly. + +“Hardly. Who would tell her--even granted that any one _knows_? And no +one knows but you and I, Rick; for even if Bess Vernon suspects, she +really knows nothing certain. Besides that, she has not seen or had +access to Lillian since she was here this morning. Richard, the girl +has not gone far, and you must find her!” + +Richard started. + +“You are right!” he said. “And if I find her I will bring her back to +this house my wife!” + +Grafton Raleigh nodded. + +“Do so by fair means or foul!” he panted, hoarsely. “She must marry +you! There is no loop-hole of escape for us save through your +marriage with Lillian Leigh. To this end I have partially consented +to Rosamond’s foolish affair with Lyndon. Richard, does it strike you +that Jack Lyndon does not care for Rosamond? I am certain that he does +not, and that he has sought her in marriage either because he expects +to marry a fortune with Rosamond Raleigh or he ‘has an ax of his own to +grind.’” + +Richard’s face grew dark. + +“I know nothing concerning Mr. Lyndon’s affairs,” he said, stiffly, +“and I care less! My business at present is to find Lillian, and bring +her home my wife! She _must_ consent! We must succeed in this scheme, +father, or we shall be utterly ruined. I am going now to search for +her. Living or dead, I shall find her!” + +He left the house, pale and anxious, his eyes full of an ominous light, +his lips compressed sternly under the shadow of his silky mustache. + +“Living or dead, I will find her!” he muttered, as he hastened down the +long street. + +Where was poor Lillian? The anguish and suffering which she had endured +since her reluctant consent to a marriage which Richard Raleigh had +wrung from her unwilling lips could not be overestimated. Utterly +alone, forsaken, friendless, her whole heart clung to the memory of +Jack Lyndon with all the strength of its pure devotion. Yet he, the man +she loved, had been accused by Richard Raleigh of being her father’s +murderer. Could it be possible? The more that Lillian reflected +upon the dreadful question, the more convinced was she that before +binding herself to Richard Raleigh by the ties of marriage it was but +right and proper, and only justice to Jack, to confront him with the +question, “Are you guilty or not guilty?” + +The more the poor girl studied this problem, the more clear and plain +did her course appear to her. She walked the floor of her room for +hours, suffering intensely while she reflected upon the matter. + +“Why not go to Jack and ask him?” she panted, wildly, at last; “why not +see him alone and accuse him, and mark the effect of my accusation, and +at least give him an opportunity to prove his innocence?” + +And so at last she decided. She dressed herself hurriedly, the deep +mourning-garments making her look pitifully pale and fragile, and at +last she left her room and went softly down the servants’ stairs and +out of the house unnoticed. Once in the street, she turned in the +direction of the office of the “Thunderer.” But by the time she had +reached the imposing building her heart failed her, her courage ebbed +away, and she dared not enter. After all, it was an awful thing to +do--to seek a man in his private office and accuse him of the crime of +murder--the man who had only a few days before told her that he loved +her and asked her to be his wife. She thought of that, and then of his +present engagement to Rosamond Raleigh, and the small hands clinched +themselves tightly together, and the white teeth sunk sharply into her +under lip with fierce intensity as she hurried away from the vicinity. + +She passed most of the day wandering through the most unfrequented +quarter of the city, not caring to return to the Raleigh mansion and +the man for whom she felt only aversion, yet whose promised wife she +was. At last, after much indecision, when the afternoon was far spent, +she found herself ascending the long flight of stairs which led to the +office of the “Thunderer,” determined to know the worst. + +“Come in!” called a well-known voice, in response to the timid tap +upon the great oaken door which shut out the editorial sanctum from +view. The door swung slowly open and Lillian crossed the threshold. +Jack Lyndon sat at a huge desk covered with papers, briskly engaged in +getting ready a leader for the next issue. He turned, and as his eyes +fell upon the pale, pitiful face he threw down his pen and started to +his feet. + +“Lillian--Miss Leigh!”--in an agitated voice--“do you--wish--to--to--” + +“To speak with you for a few moments upon matters of importance,” +she supplemented. “Yes, Mr. Lyndon.” Then a pause. “Jack! Jack! tell +me that you are not guilty! I had rather die a thousand deaths than +believe you guilty.” + +All the pride of Jack Lyndon’s honest nature was up in arms in a +moment. His face flushed crimson and then grew as pale as death. He +put out his hand instinctively and clutched at the desk beside him for +support. + +“I deny your right to arraign me, Miss Leigh,” he was beginning, +haughtily. “The crime of which I am guilty--” + +The door was thrown open at that very instant, cutting his speech in +twain. He had been about to say: “The crime of which I am guilty is +loving you too well.” + +The interruption was disastrous to Jack, for it was Richard Raleigh who +stepped into the room. + +“Lillian! Lillian!”--eagerly, anxiously--“I have sought you everywhere! +Mother is very ill, and Rosamond absent. We need you at home. Come.” + +He drew her hand passively through his arm, and without another word +led her away. Once outside in the street, Richard turned and faced +Lillian with eager, burning eyes. + +“Lillian, listen!” he said. “I have a strange request to make of you. +I want to make you my wife--now--within the hour. There is a church +just around the corner; the clergyman, an old friend of mine, is there +this moment. Let us go there and be married at once. Will you consent, +Lillian?” + +She thought of Jack’s words just spoken, and her wan face grew white +with despair. + +“As you will,” she answered, faintly. + +They passed on and entered the church together. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +FORGED FETTERS. + + +Richard Raleigh entered the church door, and like one in a dream +Lillian followed him. She was scarcely conscious of her own actions. +Her brain felt numb and dazed; her heart beat low and feeble in her +breast; she was faint and trembling, with a slow horror creeping over +her which was terrible. Life stretched out around her like a bleak and +barren desert, upon which no green thing ever smiled. The future--ah, +she dared not look forward to the future, which held not a ray of hope. +Forsaken, hopeless--the man she loved, upon whose integrity she had +staked her all of faith and trust in her fellow-creatures, false--false +and base. + +The young heart quailed, as young hearts always do, at sight of such +wickedness, and shrunk back appalled. + +Her father’s slayer! Could it be possible? A personal affair, which +had ended disastrously, between the dead man, her beloved father, and +the man she loved, and whose promised wife she had been for one whole +bright, happy day. + +“To think of it,” she muttered under her breath, as she moved onward +at Richard Raleigh’s side, “to think how nearly I had come to being +the wife of the man who took my father’s life. Yet, oh, how weak and +feeble I am! I who swore beside my father’s lifeless body to track +his slayer down to his just doom. Yet now I shrink--I tremble at the +very thought of betraying Jack Lyndon’s guilty secret to the world. And +I find myself weakly upholding my own weakness. ‘My father is dead,’ +I say to myself, ‘and to deliver Jack Lyndon up to justice would do +Gilbert Leigh no good. It would not bring him back to life, restore to +me my lost content, or make my father in that other world any happier +to know that the man who took his life must expiate that crime upon +the gallows.’ Oh, fool, mad fool that I am! It is because my heart--my +weak, womanish heart--still clings to Jack Lyndon, and will not hate +him as he deserves. But I must learn to hate him, or at least to be +free from him even in thought. And I may as well consent to this +marriage that Richard Raleigh proposes, since the hateful marriage is +to be, and since by that alone I can secure Jack Lyndon’s freedom from +punishment. And--ah, Heaven help me!--we are at the church even now. It +is too late to draw back. The die is cast!” + +They were ascending the steps of the sacred edifice in the pale, gray +shades of the gathering twilight. Down the long streets upon either +side lights were beginning to twinkle, and the electric light at the +corner had put forth its round, silvery eye, and was winking and +blinking derisively upon the passers below. + +One swift glance toward the towering granite building which held the +office of the “Thunderer.” She could see the office windows brightly +lighted, and could even discern the dim outlines of a dark figure +seated at the long desk, with bowed head resting upon one hand in an +attitude of melancholy and dejection. + +For just a moment a swift pang shot through the girl’s tender heart; +but she shrunk from it and pushed it aside, as wicked and unholy. She +seemed to lose all consciousness of time and place. A black doom seemed +to threaten her; a cloud hung over her life which nothing could lift +or move; voices sounded in her ear. She was conscious of some one +speaking, then asking a question in a slow, solemn voice. Something +impelled her to answer, to assent, and she did so. Dim lights danced +before her eyes, which, “as in a glass, darkly,” could discern a tall +form standing before her, and then--like a knell of doom--came the +words: “I pronounce you husband and wife!” + +Faint and trembling, she reeled unsteadily, and would have fallen but +Richard Raleigh caught the slight form in his arms. + +“Poor child!” she heard him say, softly, and his voice sounded more +gentle than she had ever heard it before. “She is quite overcome. Her +father has just died, you see, and she is weak and faint and ill from +want of sleep. She has been nursing him, sitting by his bedside for +many weary nights.” + +Lillian lifted her horror-filled eyes to his dusky, devil-may-care +face. Standing at God’s holy altar, he was telling a deliberate +falsehood for which there was no excuse or palliation. Heaven help +her! What manner of man was this--the man who even now was drawing +her passive hand through his arm? while a soft, silky voice--a voice +which she had never hated more bitterly than now--now, when her hateful +chains were forged forever--was whispering in her ear: + +“My own little wife! mine forever!” + +Trembling like an aspen, she faced him, white and still. + +“There is some mistake,” she faltered, slowly, putting her hand to her +brow, and pushing back the thick golden hair, as though its weight +oppressed her. “I--I--do not know--Oh, sir”--turning to the surprised +clergyman with a wild, imploring gesture--“tell me, am I really and +lawfully the wife of this man, Richard Raleigh?” + +“You are the wife of Richard Raleigh,” he returned, quietly, “and may +Heaven grant you all happiness!” + +“Happiness? Ha! ha!” + +The shrill, unnatural laughter resounded through the silent church, and +the two supernumeraries who had enacted the rôle of witnesses shrunk +back in wonder and surprise not unmixed with alarm. + +Richard beckoned the clergyman aside. + +“She is really ill,” he explained, “poor child! I will take her home to +my father’s house at once.” + +“And you are quite sure, Mr. Richard, that your father approves the +step that you have taken?” queried the clergyman, gravely. + +“You may set your mind at rest upon that score, Mr. Woods,” he said, +deferentially. “Indeed, the marriage has my father’s hearty approval. +Only we did not expect to be married this evening, and that explains +the privacy of the affair. My poor little wife is quite friendless and +homeless, you see, and it seems right that I should give her a home at +once. Just hand me the marriage certificate, Mr. Woods. Ah, yes--thank +you.” + +And the folded document was placed in his pocket, a generous fee +bestowed upon the clergyman, a present added for the witnesses, and +then Richard Raleigh led his unwilling bride from the church. The eyes +of the clergyman followed the pair, and an uneasy look crossed his fine +old face. + +“I hope and pray that there is nothing wrong in this affair!” he +murmured, slowly. “I had rather die than be guilty of a wrong of that +kind! I consider clergymen somewhat responsible in such matters. They +have no right to perform the marriage ceremony when they know that they +are binding together two lives where one is perhaps coerced into the +compact. Ah, well! I will watch this case from a distance, and I trust +to Heaven that all is well!” + +Out upon the pavement, Richard Raleigh halted to summon a passing cab. +His face was flushed with triumph; his eyes shone with a fiendish +light; he was arrogant and overbearing in his manner. He saw the way +to victory now, and there was no more need to fear. As they stood +beside the curb, and waited for the cab to halt, Jack Lyndon, passing +down the street on his way home to a six-o’clock dinner, saw them, and +his face grew as white as death. He came to a halt. They had just left +the church. Jack could see that, and a slow horror crept over his heart +like a chill. + +Just at that moment Lillian lifted her head, and their eyes met--met +for one brief, fleeting moment, yet long enough to hold a lingering +glance. It was to be a farewell. + +“I shall know that look when we meet beyond this ‘speck of time,’” +quoted Jack Lyndon slowly to himself, as he moved down the street and +was lost to sight. + +Then Richard Raleigh aroused Lillian from the strange stupor which +seemed to have taken sudden possession of her faculties. + +“Come, darling,” he said, in a low, persuasive tone, as the cab drew up +to the sidewalk, “let me assist you into the cab, and we will go home +at once. You look tired out, and this unexpected wedding of ours has +been too much for you.” + +She was shivering like one with a chill, as he placed her in a cab and +seated himself at her side. They drove rapidly away down the street, +and Lillian’s head fell back upon the cushion of the seat. Into her +beautiful eyes a strange, wild gleam crept swiftly. She looked like one +who sees before her an awful precipice or bottomless abyss, from which +nothing can save or rescue her. + +“Take me to the grave-yard!” she moaned; “I want to go to papa’s grave. +Oh, Richard--Mr. Raleigh, take me there for just a few moments, and I +will ask no more.” + +“You must be mad!” he panted, harshly. “The idea of asking such a +thing. Your father’s grave, indeed, and you not a half hour married! +Lillian, upon my soul, I believe that you are going mad!” + +A wild light flashed into the starry-brown eyes. + +“Yes, I am going mad!” she repeated, bleakly; “I have no doubt of that. +I must have been mad when I consented to marry you, Richard Raleigh, +for my life is utterly ruined, and--” + +He wheeled about swiftly upon the seat and placed his hand upon her +lips. + +“Hush!” he hissed, sibilantly; “I forbid you to utter another word of +that, Lillian Raleigh! You are to obey me henceforth, remember that! +If you are obedient and tractable you will be a happy wife, and shall +never regret the step that you have taken to-day. But if you--you defy +me--” he drew his breath hard, and his voice died away into silence. + +The cab stopped before the Raleigh mansion, and a few moments later +Lillian was upstairs in her own room, its door securely locked; while +Richard sought his father in the library. + +“Won at last!” he cried, triumphantly, as he entered the room. “Lillian +Leigh is my wife, and the Raleigh fortune is safe!” + +He came to a startled halt. In his haste, and the mad exultation +which had taken possession of him, he had not observed that there was +another person present beside Grafton Raleigh--a diminutive figure in +seal-brown velvet and flashing diamonds; an arch, smiling face, with a +glare of malice peeping from her bright eyes--Bessie Vernon. + +He fell back with a stifled exclamation; then rallied his forces and +greeted her with effusion. Ten minutes later he left the library, and +stole upstairs to the door of Lillian’s room, and rapped upon the panel. + +“Open the door, Lillian, please?” he pleaded. “Don’t be cold and angry +with me, sweetheart! I want you to come down with me to my father.” + +The key grated in the lock, the door flew open, and there upon the +threshold, looking like a spirit, in a flowing white cashmere robe, +with her golden hair coiled loosely about her graceful head, stood +Lillian. Her eyes glittered feverishly; her face was pale as death, and +resolute. + +“We may as well come to an understanding now, Richard Raleigh!” she +said, in a clear, icy voice. “I have gone through this farce of a +marriage, but I hate you, hate you, hate you! I am your wife in name +only, and I desire that you keep out of my sight. If your father wishes +to see me, he knows where he can find me. I married you to save Jack +Lyndon--the man I love--from an awful doom; but I loathe and despise +you unutterably, and I shall never look upon you as aught but a snake +in the grass--a man whom I can never respect--my bitter enemy. Go! I +have no more to say. I am dead to you now, Richard Raleigh--just as +dead as though the grave had closed over my lifeless form.” + +Lillian Leigh’s wedding-day was a thing of the past, and what had it +brought her? Only black, bitter misery and woe unspeakable. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +FACE TO FACE. + + +“Do not weep, dear love!” + +Cyril Fayne took Lenore in his arms and kissed the quivering red lips. + +“Do not grieve so, my darling. That man is a fiend incarnate, but we +will unmask him to the world. We will rise superior to him and his +petty nature--his engrossing hatred. He is mean and despicable, and the +world shall know the truth and see him as he is. He has kept back the +letter that I wrote him; concealed it from the knowledge of the world; +held his peace as to my explanation, and then boldly denounced you and +me to the public at large. A man like that would commit any crime. But +I shall punish him! As sure as I live, I shall punish him! When can you +be ready to return to America, Lenore?” + +“Within the hour!” she answered, her eyes flashing, her voice ringing +forth sweet and clear--“at a moment’s notice! To vindicate my honor, +to make my traducers bow before me in humiliation, to be set right +in the eyes of the world of society--that fashionable, hypocritical +society which has eaten my bread and enjoyed my hospitality times +innumerable--I will go back at any time, Cyril--_now!_” + +She was pale with excitement, her large dark eyes shining like stars, +her bosom heaving with indignation, like a beautiful, outraged queen, +as she stood in the center of the great sunlit room in an old Italian +palace, her white silk robe trailing behind her over the marble floor. +Cyril Fayne felt his heart thrill madly at sight of her glorious +beauty, this woman for whose sake he had suffered so much and so long, +this woman who, in turn, had borne so heavy a burden for his sake, and +for his love counted the world well lost. And he gnashed his teeth in +mad despair at thought of the mistake that he had made in leaving the +letter of explanation behind for Van Van Alstyne’s private perusal. + +“I should have gone to him--openly and frankly--like a man,” he said +to himself, “and told him the whole truth, and claimed my wife openly +before the whole world! But Lenore, poor child! was so weak and worn +with the burden that she was bearing, so nervous and fanciful, so +broken down in spirit, that I could not bear the thought of exposing +her to his brutal rage. And so I did what I believed to be the best. +But I have acted the part of a coward in the eyes of the world, and now +I must suffer. In my blind haste and mad love for my darling, I paused +not to consider after consequences; I did not stop to count the cost to +her, dear love, who has suffered so for me. I should have remembered +the nature of the madman with whom I had to deal! I have been to blame +for my headlong precipitancy. But I had lived so long without her, had +suffered so intensely, had missed her so, that when I saw her before +me once more, and knew that my long years of searching for her were +over at last, and that she loved me still, had always loved me, that +we had been separated and kept apart by base treachery, then I struck +the blow which broke her bonds and gave her back to me. Ah, Geoffrey +Grey! Geoffrey Grey! false friend, wicked, vile traitor! the day will +surely come--oh, yes, I shall live to see it!--when we will stand face +to face, and then--” + +He was pacing to and fro, his face white and drawn, his hands locked +convulsively together, upon his features the impress of mad despair. Up +and down the vast apartment he paced in stern silence. + +All at once his eyes fell upon the figure of a man passing slowly down +the sunlit street between the long rows of ilex-trees. A handsome, +effeminate face, with a womanish mouth half hidden by the silky beard +and mustache of pale gold. A weak, uncertain, vacillating face, with +large, limpid blue eyes and straight, delicate features. A man for +women to rave over, jest with, and _forget_! He was sauntering idly +along in the golden, glittering sunlight, attired in a faultless gray +suit, with a red rose in his button-hole, swinging a tiny cane lazily +in one hand as he walked. + +A swift glance, then an awful change passed over Cyril Fayne’s face. +With a hoarse cry, like the cry of a wild beast suddenly brought face +to face with its prey, he dashed open the great plate-glass window, and +springing through it, was upon the broken stones of the pavement in an +instant. + +With one mad bound he sprung upon the dainty, smiling vision and caught +him. + +“Geoffrey Grey!” he hissed between his close-clinched teeth, “I have +you at last! For years I have hunted you down, but always and ever +in vain; you would manage to elude me always. I followed you from +place to place, but when I came you would fly, and thus escape me. But +justice shall be done, vengeance shall have its own at last. You are +in my power, Geoffrey Grey, and the same world can contain us both +no longer! Villain, coward, traitor, false friend and traducer of +womankind, your hour has come!” + +For just a moment the graceful figure stood transfixed with horror and +overcome with surprise, like one suddenly petrified. The smile had +died upon his lip, his face had blanched to an ashen pallor, he was +trembling in every limb. Still the white-faced Nemesis stood over him. +The coward winced. + +“Don’t,” pleaded the low, musical voice, and the gray-clad figure +recoiled from the stern, threatening gaze of the other. “Do not--hurt +me--Cyril! I--I never did all that of which you accuse me. I--I swear +that I am sorry for what I have done!” + +A thought flashed like an inspiration across his brain. Slowly his +grasp relaxed the miscreant, and his voice, stern and cold, asked the +question: + +“Suppose that I agree to spare you, Geoffrey Grey--suppose that I +should let you go free, what are you willing to do to show your +penitence? But, bah! I am a fool to trust you, you false fiend! Stay! +if I guard you well, if I remain constantly at your side so that you +can not escape me, strive as you may, if I take you back thus guarded +to America, will you bear witness to Lenore Fayne’s innocence? Will you +take back the wrong that you have done, the evil that you have wrought, +and clear her fair name before the world? Speak, villain! And if you +agree to my proposition--remember that you can never escape me. I will +guard you always like a jailer! I will never let you out of my sight, +night nor day, until we have landed in America, and you have made +public all this vile plot against a pure woman’s happiness. + +“Answer me, Geoffrey Grey! Will you try to retrieve your miserable past +by this one act of justice? Will you endeavor to atone in this manner +for the unpardonable wrong that you have done Lenore Fayne and myself, +the husband from whom your villainous treachery separated her for +seventeen long, bad, black years?” + +Dead silence. The leaves of the ilex-trees swayed slowly in a passing +breeze; no sound broke the dead calm. A bright-eyed _donizella_ tripped +past; a group of ugly _lazaroni_ gathered upon the opposite side of +the street, begging alms in guttural Italian. Cyril Fayne stood like a +statue glaring down into the shrinking face of his enemy run down at +last. + +“Well?” he demanded, at length, “is it yes or no?” + +“Yes!” responded Geoffrey Grey, sullenly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +UNMASKED. + + +For just a moment Richard Raleigh stood in the corridor outside +Lillian’s room, in utter silence; then, with a muttering, he turned and +walked away. Back to the library he hastened, finding, to his relief, +that Mrs. Vernon had taken her departure. Pale and troubled, he sunk +into a seat, gazing into the fire in moody silence. + +“Well, the deed is done!” he said, harshly, with a swift upward glance +into his father’s face, “and I have caught a Tartar.” + +Grafton Raleigh smiled when he had heard his son’s story. + +“Nonsense, Rick; I would pay no more heed to her caprices than to the +blowing of the wind. All we want is her signature.” + +Richard nodded. + +“Very true. But, my dear sir, the girl is capable of anything. Suppose +she refuses to sign our little document?” + +Grafton Raleigh started up, pale and alarmed. + +“She must sign it,” he returned, firmly. “If she is not willing we must +force her into it, that’s all. Rick, the day for scruples and foolish +hesitation is past. It is ruin if we do not get control of--” + +“Hush! The very walls have ears; and since I have seen Bessie Vernon in +the house I am uneasy. This matter is of vital importance to us both; +to me it is more than you know. There is something which I have never +dared to tell you, and I prefer keeping it to myself. But, believe +me, if Lillian is not coerced into signing this paper, there will be +blacker trouble for me than you realize.” + +Grafton Raleigh sighed. + +“I am sorry, Richard. But then I do not anticipate much difficulty in +the matter. Let her alone until morning; then your mother must go and +see her in her room, do the maternal, treat her like a young princess, +flatter and defer to her, spoil her generally, and secure that +signature by fair means or foul. After that I will wash my hands of the +management of your wife.” + +And while the worthy pair consulted together, Bessie Vernon was +standing in an anteroom where every word distinctly reached her ears, +waiting for Rosamond to come. She had accompanied that young lady home +on an errand, after which she would return to the Vernon mansion for a +longer visit. After awhile Mrs. Vernon left the anteroom and tripped +lightly upstairs, moved softly past Rosamond’s door and down the long +corridor to the wing in which Lillian’s room was situated. + +Her face was pale with anger, the large, soft eyes were flashing +indignantly, the small hands clinched as though she longed to strike +some one. + +“The hypocrite!” she muttered, softly; “he has just devoted himself +to me of late. And he wrote me a letter in which he spoke of himself +as fated to marry a woman whom he did not love, while his heart was +attracted elsewhere, though he did not, of course, dare to say all that +was in his mind. And now--now,” catching her breath hard, “he bursts +in upon his father with the announcement of his marriage. Ah, Richard +Raleigh, I will teach you a lesson! You shall learn that a woman’s +friendship is not to be trifled with. How dared he make me believe all +that foolish sentiment? I am provoked with myself for believing it. But +I will pay him back for his falsehood--I declare I will!” + +Poor little silly moth! She had singed her wings in the flame of +flattery, and her vanity was suffering now, and her pride was horribly +wounded. + +She paused at the door of Lillian’s room and rapped lightly. + +“Miss Leigh!” she cried, softly, through the key-hole--“I beg your +pardon--Mrs. Raleigh--will you open the door just a moment? I have +something of importance to say to you. It is I--Bessie Vernon.” + +Wondering somewhat, for Lillian had never exchanged a dozen words with +Mrs. Vernon in her life, she opened the door. + +Bessie darted into the room. + +“Hush!” she whispered, warningly; “do not speak a loud word. I have +not a moment to waste, for I must get back to Rosamond. I have just +learned of your marriage.” Lillian shuddered. “And I want to warn you. +If Grafton Raleigh or his hopeful son try to get you to sign a paper--a +legal document of some description--refuse to do it. Remain firm; do +not be frightened into it. Go to some competent lawyer and tell him +that these two men hold in their possession a document which I firmly +believe to be a will, and which bequeaths property--I do not know how +much--to one Lillian Leigh. The paper reads to the effect that the +testator gives his all to his beloved niece, Lillian Leigh. Hush! I +hear Rosamond! I have no time for further explanations. Good-night!” +and she was gone, leaving Lillian in a perfect whirl of excitement. + +The next morning Mrs. Raleigh was induced to go to Lillian’s room and +accompany her down to breakfast. The meal was a constrained one, and +Lillian was devoutly thankful when it was over. But, like everything +in this world, it came to an end at last, and then Grafton Raleigh +invited Lillian into the library. With pale face and compressed lips +she followed him, while Richard brought up the rear. + +Once in the library and the door closed, a strange chill passed over +Lillian. She felt that a decisive moment had come. Grafton Raleigh led +the way to the escritoire. + +“My dear Lillian,” he began, taking a gold pen in a jeweled holder +from the silver and ebony rack, “I would like to have you sign your +name to a little business matter. You see, as a married woman you will +be expected to sign deeds in conjunction with your husband. Richard +is about to convey a piece of property, and he cannot legally do so +without his wife’s signature. We have sent for a notary--Ah! there he +is now,” as the door opened and a grave-looking man entered the room. + +Two of the servants were summoned to act as witnesses. + +Pale as marble, Lillian turned away. + +“I can not sign any paper, Mr. Raleigh, without first knowing its +contents,” she said, firmly. “My father taught me to read, understand, +and weigh well any document to which I am requested to sign my name. +Pardon me, but I must first read the paper.” + +Richard snatched the document from the desk. + +“You shall not read it!” he cried, angrily. “You are my wife, and must +obey me. Sign your name, Lillian--there,” indicating a line. + +“I will not. I must first know its contents. Besides, I have no right +to sign business documents; I am not yet of age.” + +The notary started in surprise. + +“If this be true, I refuse to act in the matter,” he said. “Mr. +Raleigh, there is some mistake here--suppose we postpone action for the +present?” + +And, smiling urbanely and bowing courteously, the little notary bowed +himself out. + +The servants returned to their duties, and Lillian stood facing her +husband, alone. + +“Curse you!” he muttered, harshly. “You little demon! you have +ruined my father and blasted your own prospects as well. And all +because you are heart-broken for the sake of Jack Lyndon. You think +to spite me by this conduct, but you shall learn that I am master. +Now, listen, madame, and you shall hear the whole truth. You have +been duped--deceived--made a fool of. Jack Lyndon did not murder your +father--and Jack Lyndon loves you as he loves his own soul. And--you +are my wife!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +GEOFFREY GREY ATONES. + + +What a journey that was across the Atlantic! With Cyril Fayne standing +guard over the white-faced, scared-looking man who crouched in a +retired corner of the deck all day, and at night was locked in a +state-room to which Fayne himself held the key, guarded like a prisoner +on his way to prison, never for a moment left alone, constantly under +surveillance, Geoffrey Grey will never forget that journey until the +day he dies. But at last the end came, as everything comes to an end +some time or other, and + + “Good times and bad times, sad times and glad times, and all times + alike + Will pass over.” + +And at last the vessel steamed into port, and, half dead with terror +and cowardly shrinking, Geoffrey Grey was taken on shore, and, still +closely guarded, conveyed to the nearest hotel. + +It was an awful task to which Cyril Fayne had pledged himself; but +he persevered in grim determination, his face set and stern, and an +ominous light in his resolute dark eyes. + +He knew that the crisis of his life--his own life and Lenore’s--was +close at hand. The hour was drawing nigh when men should acknowledge +their mutual sufferings, their mutual wrongs, or every man’s hand +should be against him, and his hand against every man in war +henceforth. He shut his teeth closely together with a repressed cry, +heartsick and weary. + +“But she must be defended,” he panted, eagerly, “she must be upheld by +a strong arm; and mine is surely strong enough for her to lean upon. +The world shall learn the truth and acknowledge its error, and shall +beg her pardon--my sweet, white lily flower, my pearl of purity!” + +And his face froze over into stern determination. It would have been +bad for Senator Van Alstyne had he chanced to meet Cyril Fayne at that +moment. + + * * * * * + +The Raleigh mansion was brilliantly illuminated, and a grand reception +was in progress, for fashion is vigorous and tyrannical, and Mrs. +Raleigh knew that she must throw open her doors to her dear five +hundred friends, and make known Richard’s marriage to Lillian Leigh, +or the fashionable world would conclude at once that the marriage was +obnoxious to her. So, though secretly much against her own desires, she +had issued cards for a grand reception in honor of her son’s marriage. + +But she found more difficulty with Lillian than she had apprehended. At +first the girl refused outright to appear at all, but the entreaties +of Mrs. Raleigh were not without effect. Lillian felt that, after all, +it would be a small concession for her to appear in the drawing-room +for a short time; and since it would keep peace in the family, she +consented at last. But she refused firmly to lay aside her mourning. In +vain did Mrs. Raleigh lay before her the enormity of a bride appearing +in black; her words were wasted. The utmost to which her persuasion +could induce Lillian to agree was a compromise between black and white. +So a beautiful costume had been ordered of fancy black-and-white +crêpe lisse, with heavy jet ornaments. The girl looked like a queen +in mourning-garments as she stood at Mrs. Raleigh’s side, under the +blazing chandelier in the great drawing-room, receiving the guests as +they arrived. + +Every one seemed conscious of a strange restraint--a feeling pervaded +the apartment as though they were expecting some one or something +to come. It came like an electric shock as the voice of the footman +announced, in loud tones: + +“Mr. and Mrs. Cyril Fayne--Mr. Geoffrey Grey!” + +Van Alstyne, seated at Bessie Vernon’s side, dropped the bouquet of +orchids which he was just presenting to that lady, and started to his +feet, his red face fairly purple with wrath--and was it fear that +lurked in his snaky little eyes? + +A strange silence fell upon the room as Cyril entered with Lenore +leaning upon his arm--Lenore all in bridal white--a robe of shimmering +satin strewn with seed-pearls. Her face was very pale; but her head +was held aloft in haughty grace, and her dark eyes blazed with scorn. +Following closely in their wake was Geoffrey Grey. + +The guests seemed to shrink closer together--the female portion, at +least--as though they thought it contamination to even breathe the same +atmosphere with this woman whom they had hunted down. + +Cyril Fayne bowed lowly before the astonished assemblage; then he +spoke, and the words that he uttered froze the audience into silence. + +“I present to you,” he began, in a clear, ringing voice, “my wife, Mrs. +Lenore Fayne, and I wish to tell you our strange story--a story which +I believed had been made public long ago, or I would have left Europe +before this to set right in the eyes of the world the woman so bitterly +wronged. + +“My friends, this lady became my wife nearly eighteen years ago. See, +here is the marriage certificate. We were married in Arles, France, as +you will see by glancing at this document. We were separated by fraud +and treachery--separated, and I believed her dead, and she believed +me false. Afterward she read my name in the list of deaths on board a +burning steamer, and she too believed me gone to my last account. + +“Her only relatives--the Raleighs--were traveling through France. +They found her and took her home to America with them, and with +them she resided for years. But she never told her story. They did +not know the truth; and when Senator Van Alstyne asked her hand in +marriage they looked upon it as a grand match for her; and so, urged +and influenced--pressed upon all sides--Lenore consented and became +the wife of Senator Van Alstyne. Of the life which she led with him I +will not speak. In the meantime I came to America, and, roving about +aimlessly, I saw my wife one day by accident, and learned that she was +married to another man. + +“In the disguise of an old woman, a fortune-teller, I managed to get +into her presence, and, by the aid of a little juggling, which I had +learned in the East, threw the party into consternation, in the midst +of which I managed to slip a note into her hands. + +“I afterward wrote her a full explanation of what had happened, and in +her reply I learned what I had suspected, that she loved me still, and +hated the man Van Alstyne. And she was my wife! To me not all the years +of separation could prevent my claim. I determined to claim her, after +which a legal process would settle all questions, and a repetition of +the marriage ceremony would make all binding. In the eyes of God she +was my wife. + +“And now comes the point wherein I blame myself severely. Lenore +was weak and nervous. She feared Van Alstyne with a terror beyond +expression, and she shrunk from an open explanation. Weakly I yielded, +and we went away together, leaving a letter for Van Alstyne, explaining +all. + +“He found and read that letter, learned the whole truth, then he went +down to his drawing-room, into the presence of his guests, and told +them a deliberate falsehood--that Lenore had fled with her lover, that +she was base and vile. + +“I acknowledge the weakness of my own course; but it was a mistake made +through the kindest intentions toward my suffering wife. She did not +know all that had taken place until we had been living in Italy for +some time, our marriage having been celebrated for the second time upon +my friend Thornton’s yacht. All formalities were rigorously observed. +She is my lawful wife. + +“The very day that we learned the truth and how Van Alstyne had +sought, by the ruin of her fair fame, to obtain revenge, that very day +Providence threw into my way the man who had wrought the sorrow of our +lives--Geoffrey Grey. I have forced him to return with us to America to +bear witness to the truth of my words, and the secret of Lenore Fayne’s +life. Geoffrey Grey, speak, and tell the truth, the whole truth, I +command you.” + +Geoffrey Grey lifted his handsome head and gazed about him with a +crest-fallen expression. + +“I acknowledge my own wrong-doing,” he said, slowly. “Years ago, when +I was only twenty-one, I loved Lenore Vane; but she never cared for +me. I was accustomed to flattery and homage, and the thought that she +did not love me, and would never care for me, made me desperate. I +asked her to be my wife, but she refused, and refused me with scorn, +ending at last by acknowledging her love for Cyril Fayne. I had never +liked him; he was always so grand and dignified; he never joined me in +my mad escapades; and he loved Lenore so dearly and with such jealous +tenderness that he would scarcely permit me to speak her name. At +last they were married, and not long afterward Cyril Fayne was called +away to England upon business, and Lenore was left alone. In an evil +hour an awful plot entered my brain, and I determined to separate +husband and wife, if possible, forever. I planned a tale of Cyril’s +treachery and falseness. I made Lenore believe, with such apparently +overwhelming proof that no woman dare doubt it that Cyril Fayne had +gone to England with another woman, and that she was a deserted wife. +About that time a steamer was burned at sea. I caused a list of the +dead to be shown Lenore--a list which contained the names of Cyril +Fayne and a woman registered upon the steamer’s books as his wife. It +is useless to add that I had caused the false report to be printed +that she might see and believe in his treachery. A few months later +her child was born--a puny little girl. A short time after its birth I +sought Lenore again and asked her to be my wife. She refused me with +bitter scorn, averring that, true or false, she loved Cyril Fayne, and +would never love another. In my anger I determined to be avenged, and +I--I stole her child and took it to America. Once there, I placed it +in an orphan asylum--the asylum of St. Vincent in this city. The child +was afterward removed from the asylum by the Raleighs under the name of +Noisette--Noisette Duval.” + +There was a wild cry, and Rosamond Raleigh started to her feet, +pale and trembling. There in the door-way stood a slight, childish +figure--a pale, sad face, with great, dark, unearthly eyes--in one hand +a bit of amber satin, while the shadowy fingers plied the brush as +usual with swift, deft strokes--never ending--never ending. + +Another wild shriek went up from Rosamond Raleigh’s pale lips, then she +tottered a few steps and fell to the floor. When they lifted her and +bore her from the room, the overwrought brain had given way, and she +was raving like a mad woman. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +DISCOVERED. + + +For a time the guests stood staring in utter consternation; then Van +Van Alstyne started to his feet. The apparition had disappeared. + +“My friends,” he began, trying to control his mad rage, “I pronounce +this scene a bit of clap-trap and stage effect which is too ludicrous +to be believed. I look upon the woman yonder,” pointing toward Lenore +with such a look of hatred upon his face that he was absolutely +repulsive--“as--as--” + +He never finished. With one mad bound Cyril Fayne darted forward, but +before he could lay his hands upon Van Alstyne the senator fell limply +to the floor, stricken down by apoplexy. + + * * * * * + +Society rallied about Lenore, and did all in its power to make amends +for what had occurred--all but Bessie Vernon, who refused stubbornly to +acknowledge Lenore as an acquaintance. Rosamond Raleigh was very ill +with brain fever, and in her delirium the burden of her cry was ever: + +“Take her away--take her away! She is painting my ball-dress with her +heart’s blood!” + +And as time passed it began to be currently reported that the proud +Miss Raleigh would never again recover the full use of her mental +faculties. Old Arbuthnot appeared fairly infatuated, and hovered about +the Raleigh mansion like an unquiet spirit. Presents of rare flowers, +costly wines and dainty luxuries found their way daily to the Raleigh +mansion, and were duly huddled into an anteroom out of Rosamond’s +sight. It was a case of real affection upon the part of the railroad +king, which brought tears of regret to Mrs. Raleigh’s eyes--regret +because of the fear which possessed her that Rosamond would never be in +a mental condition to accept Arbuthnot and his millions. + +In the meantime Jack Lyndon did the coldly polite and courteous +lover, calling once a day with punctilious courtesy to inquire after +Rosamond’s health; but though he was told that in her delirium she +called him to come to her, and although her mother hinted that a sight +of him would please the sick girl, he made no effort to see her. + +He looked as he felt--a disappointed man, a man who has risked all upon +one venture and lost. + +Lillian kept her own room continually; but she felt it her duty to +offer to help nurse Rosamond, so it came about that she was installed +there as assistant to Mrs. Raleigh. + +One day that lady requested Lillian to go up to Richard’s room for +a bottle of some particular lotion which had been placed there and +forgotten. + +“Run up there, please, Lillian,” urged the now quite urbane +mother-in-law. “You will find the bottle in the closet in the corner +of Rick’s room, near the fire-place. He is not there. The idea of your +shrinking from entering your own husband’s room on an errand! Richard +has gone to see Doctor Thompson. A consultation between a half dozen +physicians is to be held over Rosamond to-morrow, and he has gone to +appoint the hour. Make haste and get the lotion, Lillian; I must not +neglect Rosamond for a moment.” + +So Lillian left the room and went reluctantly to that which Richard +Raleigh occupied. The door-bell had been muffled and all noises hushed +on account of the sufferer; so Lillian did not hear the outer door +open, and was not aware of Jack Lyndon’s presence in the house until +she saw him coming swiftly, silently up the staircase straight to +where she stood. It was too late to retreat, so she stood her ground, +greeting him with a cool nod, and answering his questions as to +Rosamond’s state with swift conciseness. + +“Jack Lyndon did not murder your father, and he loves you as he loves +his own soul!” + +She remembered the words, and her heart almost broke with its burden of +anguish. She turned away, but Jack caught her hand in his own. + +“Stay! Just a moment, Lillian--Mrs. Raleigh!” he corrected himself. “I +have never had an opportunity to speak with you before since the late +unpleasant events. Lillian, tell me, why do you hate me so?” + +Her eyes met his with a look of terror. + +“Hate you? I do not. I never can,” she faltered, and before he could +recover from his surprise she flitted past him, down the long hall to +the room which was occupied by Richard Raleigh. For just a moment she +hesitated before the door, a feeling of intense repugnance creeping +over her. Then she remembered Mrs. Raleigh’s peremptory order; she laid +her hand upon the knob, and opened the door softly, slowly. + +The room was vacant. A strange sensation crept over the girl’s heart; a +feeling that something was about to happen. + +“What is the matter with me?” she exclaimed, impatiently. “I feel like +a detective on the track of a criminal, and who has nearly hunted him +down!” + +Just then her eyes fell upon an object which lay upon Richard’s desk--a +large, roomy escritoire which stood beside a window. It was a pencil, +an odd-looking affair of gold, in a long, flat shape, which terminated +in a snake’s head, with two tiny rubies for eyes. + +“Papa’s pencil!” she panted, in a low, horror-stricken voice. “Papa’s +gold pencil, the one that he carried for so many years, and that he +used to say he meant me to have. How came it here? How came it in +Richard Raleigh’s possession?” + +She turned it slowly over in her trembling fingers, then she returned +it to the desk. + +“He must explain how that pencil came into his possession,” she said, +resolutely. “I will know!” + +She moved slowly across the room to the closed door beside the +fire-place and opened it swiftly. Her face was pale with excitement, +and her heart beat fast. + +One glance into the interior revealed a large closet in the wall, with +a row of shelves at the back. There was no sign of the bottle for +which she had been sent, and Lillian turned to the shelves and began +to search for it there. Still no sign of its whereabouts. Only a box +remained to be searched--a large box which stood below the row of +shelves. Though much against her will, Lillian at last lifted the lid +and began to glance over the contents. + +A suit of men’s clothing rolled into a bundle. Half consciously she +turned it over. It was a plain, dark business suit, but stained with +mud and water, as though the clothing had fallen into a gutter, and, +rolled up inside the bundle, a book, the sight of which made Lillian +cry aloud with mad horror and despair. + +“Papa’s book!” she panted, brokenly, “the book for which he went back +to the office that night and never returned--only his dead body all +bruised and blackened from a murderer’s clutches. What does this mean?” + +She opened the book swiftly, eagerly. A note fell from its pages--a +note in Richard Raleigh’s handwriting, and signed by his name, begging +Gilbert Leigh not to expose him to the world; acknowledging himself as +a forger and embezzler; but adding that if the truth were known, and +the house of Raleigh & Raleigh should cast him off, he would be ruined +beyond redemption. How came that book in his possession? The awful +question struck to her heart like a blow. + +She staggered to her feet, still grasping the book in one trembling +hand; and turning swiftly about, she stood face to face with Richard +Raleigh. + +Silence--the dead, unbroken silence of the grave. He stood like one +turned to stone, his dark eyes blazing with a lurid light. + +“Richard Raleigh!” her low voice was full of wordless horror, “your +bad, black secret has come to light at last. I am going now to denounce +you. False villain, your hour has come!” + +She left the room, carrying the book in her hand. Still Richard Raleigh +never spoke, never moved. When she was gone he started suddenly, like +one aroused from a bad dream. Going over to the door of the room, he +locked it securely. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +THE END. + + +At the foot of the stairs Lillian’s strength suddenly gave way, and she +sunk down upon the floor in a huddled heap, in a dead swoon. + +Mrs. Raleigh, tired with waiting for her to return, came to search for +her, and found her lying there with that book clasped to her breast, +her eyes closed--no sign of life. She summoned a servant and had the +unconscious girl carried to her own apartment; then she went back +to Rosamond’s side. There was a little change apparent in the sick +girl--it was hoped, for the better. + +There was a light step upon the stairs; the door of Rosamond’s room +opened softly. Mrs. Raleigh lifted her heavy eyes and saw Lenore +standing near. + +“Auntie, you are quite worn out,” said a sweet, compassionate voice. +“I have come to relieve you. Go and lie down for awhile, and I will do +everything for Rosamond.” + +She led the exhausted woman away to another room and made her lie down, +while she bathed the aching brow with Cologne water; then darkening +the windows, she went out and left Mrs. Raleigh just sinking into a +peaceful slumber. Then Lenore went back to Rosamond. + +Upstairs in his own room Richard Raleigh stood staring blankly into +vacancy. His face was like marble; all the triumph had left his eyes, +and fear and horror unutterable were in its place. He went over to the +escritoire at last and sunk into a seat before it. + +“She means it!” he muttered, fiercely, “she means every word that she +uttered! She will set the bloodhounds of the law upon my track, and I +shall die a horrible death upon the gallows, or drag out an endless +existence in a prison cell. I will not! No, I will circumvent her yet!” + +He drew a sheet of paper toward him and wrote upon it these words: + + “I hereby confess that I am the murderer of Gilbert Leigh. He held in + his possession certain facts in regard to my private affairs which he + refused to relinquish, and which he declared to be his duty to lay + before the house of Raleigh & Raleigh. I knew that he would keep his + word; I knew also that if these facts were to become known I would be + disgraced and turned adrift. I used every endeavor to induce Leigh to + give up this book in which his information had all been noted, and to + give up at the same time his intention of exposing me; but he refused. + I met him one night not far from his own door, and endeavored to take + forcible possession of the book, but he fought like a tiger, and in + the struggle met his death. + + “The very day after his burial, an old man--a stranger in the + city--came to our office and introduced himself as the only brother of + Gilbert Leigh, and left in our care his private papers, including his + will, in which he bequeathed all he possessed to his niece, Lillian. + That night the old man died suddenly in the street, with heart + disease. The Raleigh fortune was in peril. Wild speculations had made + us tremble for our own safety; and my father and I conceived the idea + of retaining the will and inducing Lillian to become my wife; after + which I believed it an easy matter to get her to sign her property + over to me as her lawful guardian; then I could rescue the tottering + house of Raleigh. The fortune, which belongs by right to Lillian Leigh + Raleigh, is estimated at over a million. She has become my wife, but + she hates me and loves Jack Lyndon. I confess that I separated these + two by false representations. He was led to believe her false; she + was made to believe that in a quarrel with her father Jack Lyndon had + killed him. I threatened to hand him over to the authorities unless + she consented to marry me. But she repudiated me after the marriage, + and declared that she had sacrificed herself to save the man she + loved. I swear that this is a full and true confession, so help me God! + + “RICHARD RALEIGH.” + +Silence in the room--utter silence as the last words are traced. +Richard Raleigh’s face was like marble, and his eyes wore a hunted, +desperate look. He opened a drawer in the escritoire and took from it +a small leather case; it contained two revolvers--one was empty, the +other loaded. He removed the latter from its crimson velvet bed and +passed his hand lightly over it, a cynical expression upon his face. + +“Six shots,” he muttered, sharply; “six chances of emigration to +another world!” + +His lip curled scornfully; he threw his handsome head back with a +gesture of disdain. + +“Bah! what do I fear?” he cried, contemptuously. “What is it that +Bulwer says: + + “‘Fear life--not death; + To whatever bourne my breath is borne, the way is easy now; for life, + Like a pagan sacrifice, leads us on to the great high priest with the + knife. + Bitter? I dare not be bitter in the few last hours left to live-- + Needing so much forgiveness, God grant me at least to forgive! + And there’ll be no space for the ghost of her face + Down in that narrow room-- + And the mole is blind, and the worm is mute-- + And there _must_ be rest in the tomb!’ + +Farewell, dear world!” he cried, sarcastically. “I am going to another, +and, let us hope, a better one! Hush! I hear the sound of footsteps +upon the stairs. Come, my friend; the hour draws nigh. The officers! +the officers!” he cried, starting up. “But I shall escape them!” he +added, sinking slowly back into his seat once more. + +The revolver was pressed against his temple; the footsteps came +nearer--nearer; they halt at the door of his chamber, and then a +loud rap resounded throughout the house--a rap which was followed by +a startling report. Richard’s fingers closed over the weapon in his +grasp; he pulled the trigger. + + * * * * * + +In Rosamond’s sick-room, whither she has returned, his mother hears the +ominous report. Pale and trembling, she stands for a moment, then she +dashes open the door, only to find herself confronted by her husband. +Grafton Raleigh looks like a ghost as he grasps her hand and leads her +into an adjoining room. + +“Be brave!” he moans, “for an awful calamity has come upon us!” + +And then with many pauses, and between her sobs and broken cries, he +tells her the story--the whole ghastly story of how her only son has +died. + +The sound of footsteps upon the stairs had not been the footsteps of +the officers come to drag him away, but some of Richard’s own boon +companions who had come in haste to consult him upon some matter of +importance to them. + +The ghastly remains of Richard Raleigh were buried away out of sight, +and poor Lillian, having placed her affairs, together with his dying +confession, in the hands of a competent lawyer, was soon installed +heiress to her uncle’s fortune. Through her agency the affairs of the +Raleighs were set straight, and no one knew how nearly they had come to +ruin. + +Rosamond recovered--a pale wreck. The first thing that she did was to +send for Jack Lyndon and give him his freedom. She afterward married +old Arbuthnot, and although she will never entirely recover her mental +equilibrium, she leads society in her city to-day. For brain is not a +requisite for the average leader of fashion. + +Lenore and Cyril live in a handsome house in the most aristocratic +quarter of the city, and are so very happy that they are learning to +forget the sad past. + +Bessie Vernon eloped with Charlie Stuart soon after the return of +Lenore to America--even at the very time that she was refusing to +acknowledge Lenore as a friend. + + * * * * * + +“Jack, Jack! look up and say that you forgive me for ever harboring +such a dreadful suspicion against you.” + +The journalist lifted his head from the writing with which he was +busily engaged, and saw standing before him a slim, black-robed figure. +Perhaps he thought of another interview which once took place in the +office of the “Thunderer” as he arose and stood before Lillian, pale +and still. + +“Don’t look at me like that!” she cried; “but say that you forgive me; +for oh, Jack, you do not know how I have suffered!” + +“I forgive you! Of course I could not do otherwise!” he returned, +gravely. “You were under the influence of a wicked man, and--” + +“You do care a little for me still, don’t you, Jack?” all pride +thrown to the winds now, and her two hands clasping his. She knows +his stubborn pride--the pride which will not give way an inch; and +she knows that never for one moment does he forget the difference +between the poor journalist and the heiress to a million. But Lillian +is determined to have no more misunderstandings, so she clings to his +hands and looks straight into his eyes. + +“Jack, you asked me once to be your wife. I--I have never cared for any +one but you! If you--would--ask me again!” + +He stoops and gathers her close to his heart, and their eyes meet in a +look of deathless affection--perfect trust. + +“Dear love!” he whispers, softly--“the one love of my life!” + + +THE END. + + + + + THE FOLLOWING BOOKS + + --BY-- + + CHARLES GARVICE + + ARE NOW READY IN + + THE LAUREL LIBRARY: + + +No. + + 3 Paid For! (Her Ransom). + 4 Elaine. + 6 On Love’s Altar (A Wasted Love). + 11 Better than Life. + 17 Married at Sight. + 18 Once in a Life. + 19 A Life’s Mistake. + 20 She Loved Him. + 21 The Marquis. + 23 ’Twas Love’s Fault (Nance). + 24 Queen Kate. + 25 His Love So True (Leslie’s Loyalty) + 26 In Cupid’s Chains. + 27 Just a Girl (A Strange Duchess). + 28 The Outcast of the Family. + 29 The Mistress of Court Regna (Claire). Illustrated. + 30 A Coronet of Shame. + 31 An Innocent Girl (Her Heart’s Desire). Illustrated. + 32 By Devious Ways (The Girl of His Heart). Illustrated. + 33 Story of a Passion. Illustrated. + 35 Lorrie; or, Hollow Gold. + 37 Heart for Heart. + 39 A Modern Juliet. + 40 Nell of Shorne Mills. + 41 A Heritage of Hate. + 42 The Shadow of Her Life. + 43 Love, the Tyrant. + 44 At Love’s Cost. + 45 With All Her Heart. + 49 Only a Girl’s Love. + 50 Leola Dale’s Fortune. + 51 Only One Love. + 52 His Guardian Angel. + 56 Iris; or, Under the Shadow. + +The above books are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent by +mail, on receipt of the price, 25 cents each, by the publishers. Address + + + GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, PUBLISHERS, + P. O. Box 1781. 17 to 27 Vandewater St., New York. + + + + +Age of Reason. + +BEING AN INVESTIGATION OF + +True and Fabulous Theology + +BY + +THOMAS PAINE, + +SECRETARY TO THE COMMITTEE OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS IN THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION + + +The Age of Reason is undoubtedly one of the ablest and boldest +arguments ever put forth against the Bible as being the inspired word +of God. + +Its author, although born in England, warmly espoused the cause of the +patriots in the American Revolution, and wrote and published several +pamphlets at that time which renewed the determination of the men of +’76 to conquer or die. + +He afterward went to France, and at the time of the French Revolution +was a member of the Convention. A motion being made in that body to +exclude foreigners, of which there were but himself and one other, and +as he was particularly referred to by the mover of the resolution, +he conceived that he had but a few days of liberty, and immediately +proceeded to write the second part of the “Age of Reason,” the first +part having been written some time before. Shortly after it was +finished, Thomas Paine was arrested as a foreigner and conveyed to the +prison of the Luxembourg. He contrived on his way there to call on Joel +Barlow, and put in his hands the manuscript of the second part of the +“Age of Reason,” addressed to the protection of the citizens of the +United States. + + + AGE OF REASON + in two Parts, Complete in One Book. + PRICE 25 CENTS. + + +For sale by all newsdealers and booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on +receipt of 25 cents, by the publishers. + + Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, + 17 to 27 VANDEWATER STREET, NEW YORK. + + + + +TWENTY-FIVE + +MASTERPIECES OF DUMAS + +MAILED FOR $1.50. + + +ARRANGED CHRONOLOGICALLY IN THE ORDER IN WHICH THEY SHOULD BE READ. + + Ascanio. + The Two Dianas. + The Page of the Duke of Savoy. + Marguerite de Valois. + Chicot the Jester. + The Forty-five Guardsmen. + The Three Musketeers. + Twenty Years After. + The Vicomte de Bragelonne. + Ten Years Later. + Louise de la Valliere. + The Man in the Iron Mask. + The War of Women; or, Nanou. + The Black Tulip. + Beau Tancrede; or, The Marriage Verdict. + The Conspirators; or, The Chevalier d’Harmental. + The Regent’s Daughter. + Joseph Balsamo. + The Memoirs of a Physician. + The Queen’s Necklace. + Six Years Later; or, Taking the Bastile. + The Countess de Charny. + Andrée de Taverney. + The Chevalier de Maison Rouge. + The Corsican Brothers. + + +The above Books will be sold only in lots of 25 at $1.50. + + + ADDRESS GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, PUBLISHERS, + 17 to 27 Vandewater St., New York. + + + + +LAURA JEAN LIBBEY’S + +CHARMING STORIES + +PUBLISHED IN BOOK FORM + + 10 CENTS EACH. + Any Three for 25c. The Nine for 75c. + +These books are 12mos, printed on good paper, in large, bold type, and +bound in handsome photogravure covers. + + The Heiress of Cameron Hall. + Daisy Brooks. + A Struggle for a Heart. + Madolin Rivers. + Junie’s Love-Test. + All for Love of a Fair Face. + Leonie Locke. + Little Rosebud’s Lovers. + Beautiful Ione’s Lover. + + + + +FIVE GREAT BOOKS BY + +Charles Garvice. + +10c. Each. The Five for 35c. + +These books are 12mos, printed on good paper, in large, bold type, and +bound in handsome photogravure covers. + + ELAINE. + HER RANSOM. + A WASTED LOVE. + LESLIE’S LOYALTY. + HER HEART’S DESIRE. + +The above works will be sent, post-paid, on receipt of the price, by +the publishers. Address + + GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, PUBLISHERS. + P. O. Box 1781. 17 to 27 Vandewater St., New York. + + + + +THE + +LUCKY DREAM BOOK, + +WITH + +COMBINATION NUMBERS, + +AND + +THE ORACULUM; + +OR, + +NAPOLEON BONAPARTE’S BOOK OF FATE. + +PRICE 25 CENTS. + +Both sacred and profane history are full of so many examples of the +fulfillment of dreams, that he must be very skeptical and but little +versed in natural science who would refuse to have faith in them. + +In this book the interpretation of almost every imaginable dream is +given, based on practical experience, by a man who has made this +particular branch of research a life study. + +This book also contains Napoleon’s Oraculum, which was consulted by +him on every occasion. The translator has several times consulted it +for his own amusement, and, incredible as it may appear, he found its +answers to correspond with truth, as they afterward came to pass. + + The Lucky Dream Book is of a size convenient for the pocket, and is + printed from large, clear type, on good paper, and bound in a unique + symbolic cover. + + For sale by all newsdealers, or sent by mail, postage paid, on receipt + of 25 cents, by the publishers. Address + + GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, Publishers, + 17 to 27 VANDEWATER ST., NEW YORK. + + + + +“Look it up in the Dream Book.” + + +THE + +MASCOT + +DREAM BOOK, + +WITH + +COMBINATION NUMBERS. + +Price 10 Cents. + +THE MASCOT DREAM BOOK is the most complete and serviceable ever issued +at the low price of 10 cents. + +It has been rendered famous by the success and good fortune invariably +attending those who consult its pages. + +It also contains a Horoscope and Fortune Teller, and is full of +information on many other subjects of like interest. + +Of pocket-book size, it can be carried without inconvenience. Its sale +thus far has been phenomenal. + + THE MASCOT DREAM BOOK is for sale by all newsdealers, or it will be + mailed to any address on receipt of 10 cents by the publishers. Address + + GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, Publishers, + 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York. + (P. O. Box 1781.) + + + + +Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland + +By LEWIS CARROLL, + +AUTHOR OF “THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS.” + +With Forty-two Beautiful Illustrations by John Tenniel. + +HANDSOMELY BOUND IN CLOTH. 12MO. + +Price 50 Cents. + + +Through the Looking-Glass, + +----AND---- + +WHAT ALICE FOUND THERE. + +By LEWIS CARROLL. + +ILLUSTRATED BY JOHN TENNIEL. + +HANDSOMELY BOUND IN CLOTH. 12MO. PRICE 50 CENTS. + + +NEW TABERNACLE SERMONS. + +BY THE + +Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage, D.D. + +HANDSOMELY BOUND IN CLOTH. 12MO. PRICE 50 CENTS. + + +Juliet Corson’s New Family Cook Book. + +By MISS JULIET CORSON. + +HANDSOMELY BOUND IN CLOTH. PRICE 50 CENTS. + + +The above books are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent by +mail, postage paid, on receipt of the price, by the publishers. + + Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, + MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, + 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York. + + + + +Kitchen Lessons for Young Housekeepers + +By ANNIE H. JEROME. + +Price 10 Cents. + + +LETTER-WRITING MADE EASY. + +Price 10 Cents. + + +Cutting-Out and Dressmaking + +From the French of Mlle. E. Grand’homme. + +Price 10 Cents. + + +Munro’s Dialogues and Speakers. + + No. 1. The Funny Fellow’s Dialogues. + No. 2. The Clemence and Donkey Dialogues. + No. 3. Mrs. Smith’s Boarders’ Dialogues. + No. 4. Schoolboys’ Comic Dialogues. + No. 1. Vot I Know ’Bout Gruel Societies Speaker. + No. 2. The John B. Go-off Comic Speaker. + No. 3. My Boy Vilhelm’s Speaker. + +PRICE 10 CENTS EACH. + + +HUNTERS’ YARNS. + +A Collection of Wild and Amusing Adventures. + +PRICE 10 CENTS. + +This book comprises Thrilling Battles with Indians, Terrific Encounters +with Serpents and Alligators, Long Swims, Races for Life, etc., etc., +as Related by Hunters and their Companions Around the Camp-fire. + + +The above books are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent by +mail, postage paid, on receipt of the price, by the publishers. + + Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, + MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, + 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York. + + + + +A PRACTICAL GUIDE + +To the Acquisition of the + +SPANISH LANGUAGE. + +BY LUCIEN OUDIN, A.M. + +Price 10 Cents. + + +MUNRO’S FRENCH SERIES. + +No. 1: + +An Elementary Grammar of the French Language. + +BY ILLION COSTELLANO. + +Price 10 Cents. + + +MUNRO’S FRENCH SERIES. + +Nos. 2 and 3: + +Practical Guides to the French Language. + +BY LUCIEN OUDIN, A.M. + +Price 10 Cents Each. + + +MUNRO’S GERMAN SERIES. + +(TWO VOLUMES.) + +A METHOD OF + +Learning German on a New and Easy Plan. + +BY EDWARD CHAMIER. + + +The above books afford a cheap and easy means of learning the Spanish, +French, and German languages. They have had a large sale, and have +invariably given entire satisfaction. + +For sale by all newsdealers, or sent by mail, on receipt of the price, +10 cents each, by the publishers. + + + Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, + MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, + 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York. + + + + + November, 1901. + +THE SEASIDE LIBRARY. + +POCKET EDITION. + +AUTHORS’ CATALOGUE. + +_Books marked thus * are at present in Alligator covers._ + +[_When ordering by mail please order by numbers._] + + +E. About. + + No. Title Pages + + 1467* A New Lease of Life 264 + + +Amedee Achard. + + 2196 The Royal Chase 334 + + +Mrs. Leith Adams. + + 1345 Aunt Hepsy’s Foundling 294 + + +Author of “Addie’s Husband.” + + 388 Addie’s Husband; or, Through Clouds to Sunshine + 504 My Poor Wife + 1046 Jessie 167 + + +Author of “A Fatal Dower.” + + 372 Phyllis’s Probation + + +Author of “A Golden Bar.” + + 483* Betwixt My Love and Me 178 + + +Author of “A Great Mistake.” + + 588 Cherry + 1040 Clarissa’s Ordeal 385 + 1137 Prince Charming 199 + 1187 Suzanne 227 + 2055 A Great Mistake 384 + + +Author of “For Mother’s Sake.” + + 1900 Leonie; or, The Sweet Street Singer of New York 287 + + +Hamilton Aide. + + 383* Introduced to Society + + +Albert W. Aiken. + + 1899 Injun Paul; or, The Prairie Cat. Illustrated + + +George L. Aikin + + 1901 Bob O’Link + + +Gustave Almard. + + 1341 The Trappers of Arkansas + 1396 The Adventurers + 1398 Pirates of the Prairies + 1400 Queen of the Savannah + 1401 The Buccaneer Chief + 1402 The Smuggler Hero + 1404 The Rebel Chief + 1650 The Trail-Hunter + 1653 The Pearl of the Andes + 1672 The Insurgent Chief + 1688 The Trapper’s Daughter + 1690 The Tiger-Slayer + 1692 Border Rifles + 1700 The Flying Horseman + 1701 The Freebooters + 1714 The White Scalper + 1723 The Guide of the Desert + 1732 Last of the Aucas + 1734 Missouri Outlaws + 1736 Prairie Flower + 1740 Indian Scout + 1741 Stronghand + 1742 Bee-Hunters + 1744 Stoneheart + 1748 The Gold-Seekers + 1752 Indian Chief + 1756 Red Track + 1761 The Treasure of Pearls + 1768 Red River Half-Breed + + +F. M. Allen. + + 2211 Through Green Glasses + + +Grant Allen. + + 712 For Maimie’s Sake 295 + 1221 “The Tents of Shem” 292 + 1783 The Great Taboo 223 + 1870* What’s Bred in the Bone 292 + 1008* Dumaresq’s Daughter 296 + 2017 Miss Cayley’s Adventures 197 + 2022* Duchess of Powysland + + +Mrs. Alexander. + + 5 The Admiral’s Ward 419 + 17 The Wooing O’t 392 + 62 The Executor 473 + 189 Valerie’s Fate + 229 Maid, Wife, or Widow? + 286 Which Shall it Be? 346 + 339 Mrs. Vereker’s Courier Maid + 490 A Second Life 390 + 564 At Bay 178 + 794 Beaton’s Bargain 205 + 797 Look Before You Leap 234 + 805 The Freres 630 + 806 Her Dearest Foe 473 + 814 The Heritage of Langdale 391 + 815 Ralph Wilton’s Weird + 900 By Woman’s Wit 207 + 997* Forging the Fetters, and The Australian Aunt 166 + 1054 Mona’s Choice 300 + 1057 A Life Interest 431 + 1189 A Crooked Path 390 + 1199 A False Scent + 1867 Heart Wins 262 + 1459 A Woman’s Heart 394 + 1571 Blind Fate 335 + 2158 What Gold Can Not Buy + + +Mrs. Alderdice. + + 1582 An Interesting Case 366 + + +Alison. + + 481* The House That Jack Built + + +Hans Christian Andersen. + + 1814 Andersen’s Fairy Tales 380 + + +W. P. Andrews. + + 1172* India and Her Neighbors 285 + + +F. Anstey. + + 59 Vice Versâ 221 + 225 The Giant’s Robe 280 + 503 The Tinted Venus. A Farcical Romance + 819 A Fallen Idol 228 + 616 The Black Poodle, and Other Tales 239 + + +G. W. Appleton. + + 1346 A Terrible Legacy 304 + 2004 Frozen Hearts + + +Sir Edwin Arnold. + + 960 The Light of Asia + + +Edwin Lester Arnold. + + 685 The Wonderful Adventures of Phra the Phœnician 347 + + +T. S. Arthur. + + 1337* Woman’s Trials 216 + 1636 The Two Wives 184 + 1688* Married Life 214 + 1640 Ways of Providence 215 + 1641* Home Scenes 216 + 1644* Stories for Parents 215 + 1649* Seed-Time and Harvest 216 + 1652* Words for the Wise 215 + 1654* Stories for Young Housekeepers 212 + 1657* Lessons In Life 215 + 1658* Off-Hand Sketches 216 + 1660 The Tried and the Tempted 212 + 2164 Ten Nights in a Bar-room and What I Saw There + + +Sir Samuel W. Baker. + + 267 Rifle and Hound in Ceylon + 538 Eight Years’ Wanderings in Ceylon 205 + 1502 Cast Up by the Sea 410 + + +R. M. Ballantyne. + + 89 The Red Eric 178 + 95 The Fire Brigade 170 + 96 Erling the Bold 184 + 772 Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood Trader 259 + 1514 Deep Down 420 + + +Honore De Balzac. + + 776 Père Goriot 212 + 1128 Cousin Pons 297 + 1318 The Vendetta 254 + 2189 Shorter Stories 186 + 2231 The Chouans 290 + + +S. Baring-Gould. + + 787 Court Royal 406 + 878 Little Tu’penny + 1122* Eve 283 + 1201* Mehalah: A Story of the Salt Marshes 270 + 1697* Red Spider 222 + 1711 The Pennycomequicke 448 + 1763 John Herring 445 + 1779* Armiuell 519 + 1821* Urith 438 + + +Frank Barrett. + + 986 The Great Hesper + 1138 A Recoiling Vengeance + 1245* Fettered for Life 313 + 1461 Smuggler’s Secret + 1611 Between Life and Death 292 + 1750 Lieutenant Barnabas 292 + + +J. M. Barrie. + + 1896 My Lady Nicotine 206 + 1977 Better Dead + 2099 Auld Licht Idylls + 2100 A Window in Thrums + 2101 When a Man’s Single 162 + 2167 A Tillyloss Scandal 164 + + + Basil. + + 344* “The Wearing of the Green” 275 + 585* A Drawn Game 304 + + +G. M. Bayne. + + 1618* Galaski 237 + + +Anne Beale. + + 188 Idonea 239 + 199* The Fisher Village + + +Alexander Begg. + + 1605* Wrecks in the Sea of Life 348 + + +By the Writer of “Belle’s Letters.” + + 2091 Vashti and Esther + + +E. B. Benjamin. + + 1706* Jim, the Parson 244 + 1720* Our Roman Palace 360 + + +A. Benrimo. + + 1624* Vic + + +E. F. Benson. + + 2105 Dodo 213 + + +E. Berger. + + 1646 Charles Auchester 333 + + +E. Berthel. + + 1589* The Sergeant’s Legacy 342 + + +Walter Besant. + + 97 All in a Garden Fair 271 + 137 Uncle Jack + 140 A Glorious Fortune + 146* Love Finds the Way, and Other Stories. By Besant and Rice + 230 Dorothy Forster 283 + 324 In Luck at Last + 541 Uncle Jack + 651* “Self or Bearer” + 882 Children of Gibeon 459 + 904 The Holy Rose + 906 The World Went Very Well Then 366 + 980 To Call Her Mine 164 + 1055 Katharine Regina + 1065* Herr Paulus: His Rise, His Greatness, and His Fall 278 + 1143* The Inner House 183 + 1151* For Faith and Freedom 356 + 1240* The Bell of St. Paul’s 352 + 1247 The Lament of Dives 244 + 1378 They Were Married. By Walter Besant and Jas. Rice 189 + 1413 Armorel of Lyonesse 401 + 1462 Let Nothing You Dismay + 1530 When the Ship Comes Home. By Besant and Rice + 1655 The Demoniac 347 + 1861 St. Katherine’s by the Tower 377 + + +M. Betham-Edwards. + + 273 Love and Mirage; or, The Waiting on an Island + 579* The Flower of Doom, and Other Stories + 594* Doctor Jacob 207 + 1023* Next of Kin--Wanted 220 + 1407* The Parting of the Ways 390 + 1500* Disarmed 203 + 1543* For One and the World 340 + 1627* A Romance of the Wire 192 + + +Jeanie Gwynne Bettany. + + 1810 A Laggard in Love 189 + + +Bjornstjerne Bjornson. + + 1385 Arne + 1388 The Happy Boy + + +William Black. + + 1 Yolande 329 + 8 Shandon Bells 274 + 21 Sunrise: A Story of These Times 324 + 23 A Princess of Thule 334 + 39 In Silk Attire 316 + 44 Macleod of Dare 294 + 49 That Beautiful Wretch 215 + 50 The Strange Adventures of a Phaeton 372 + 70 White Wings: A Yachting Romance 261 + 78 Madcap Violet 310 + 81 A Daughter of Heth 336 + 124 Three Feathers 328 + 125 The Monarch of Mincing Lane 271 + 126 Killmeny 240 + 138 Green Pastures and Piccadilly 391 + 265 Judith Shakespeare: Her Love Affairs and Other Adventures 260 + 472 The Wise Women of Inverness + 627 White Heather 337 + 898 Romeo and Juliet: A Tale of Two Young Fools 162 + 962 Sabina Zembra 454 + 1096 The Strange Adventures of a House-Boat 335 + 1132 In Far Lochaber 287 + 1227 The Penance of John Logan + 1259 Nanciebel: A Tale of Stratford-on-Avon + 1268 Prince Fortunatus 421 + 1389 Oliver Goldsmith + 1394 The Four Macnicols, and Other Tales + 1426 An Adventure in Thule + 1505 Lady Silverdale’s Sweetheart + 1506 Mr. Pisistratus Brown, M. P. + 1725 Stand Fast, Craig-Royston! 408 + 1892 Donald Ross of Heimra 367 + + +R. D. Blackmore. + + 67 Lorna Doone 454 + 427 The Remarkable History of Sir Thomas Upmore, Bart., M. P. 210 + 615 Mary Anerley 488 + 625 Erema; or, My Father’s Sin 396 + 629 Cripps, the Carrier 333 + 630 Cradock Nowell 568 + 631 Christowell 458 + 632 Clara Vaughan 489 + 633 The Maid of Sker 507 + 636 Alice Lorraine 494 + 926 Springhaven + 1267 Kit and Kitty 419 + + +Isa Blagden. + + 705 The Woman I Loved, and the Woman Who Loved Me + + +Edgar Janes Bliss. + + 2102 The Peril of Oliver Sargent 177 + + +Frederick Boyle. + + 356* A Good Hater 244 + + +Miss M. E. Braddon. + + 35 Lady Audley’s Secret 279 + 56 Phantom Fortune 464 + 74 Aurora Floyd 333 + 110 Under the Red Flag + 153 The Golden Calf 297 + 204 Vixen 328 + 211 The Octoroon 160 + 234 Barbara; or, Splendid Misery 256 + 263 An Ishmaelite 338 + 315 The Mistletoe Bough. Christmas, 1884. + Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon 197 + 434 Wyllard’s Weird 312 + 478 Diavola 233 + 480 Married in Haste. Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon 240 + 487 Put to the Test. Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon 365 + 488 Joshua Haggard’s Daughter 438 + 489 Rupert Godwin 369 + 495 Mount Royal 431 + 496 Only a Woman. Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon 390 + 497 The Lady’s Mile 425 + 498 Only a Clod 403 + 499 The Cloven Foot 416 + 511 A Strange World 429 + 515 Sir Jasper’s Tenant 416 + 524 Strangers and Pilgrims 473 + 529 The Doctor’s Wife 431 + 542 Fenton’s Quest 240 + 544 Cut by the County; or, Grace Darnel 163 + 548 A Fatal Marriage, and The Shadow in the Corner + 549 Dudley Carleon; or, The Brother’s Secret, + and George Caulfield’s Journey + 552 Hostages to Fortune 409 + 553 Birds of Prey 414 + 554 Charlotte’s Inheritance. (Sequel to “Birds of Prey”) 397 + 557 To the Bitter End 459 + 559 Taken at the Flood 490 + 560 Asphodel 468 + 561 Just as I am; or, A Living Lie 437 + 567 Dead Men’s Shoes 459 + 570 John Marchmont’s Legacy 498 + 618 The Mistletoe Bough. Christmas, 1885. + Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon 257 + 840* One Thing Needful; or, The Penalty of Fate 281 + 881 Mohawks 515 + 890* The Mistletoe Bough. Christmas, 1886. + Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon 252 + 943 Weavers and Weft; or, “Love that Hath Us in His Net” 206 + 947 Publicans and Sinners; or, Lucius Davoren + 1036 Like and Unlike 402 + 1098 The Fatal Three 357 + 1211 The Day Will Come 415 + 1411 Whose Was the Hand? 377 + 1664* Dead Sea Fruit 348 + 1893 The World, Flesh and the Devil 472 + 1933 Nobody’s Daughter. Sequel to “Diavola” 265 + + +Annie Bradshaw. + + 706* A Crimson Stain + + +Charlotte M. Braeme, Author of “Dora Thorne.” + + 19 Her Mother’s Sin; or, A Bright Wedding Day 174 + 51 Dora Thorne 320 + 54 A Broken Wedding-Ring 336 + 68 A Queen Amongst Women + 69 Madolin’s Lover; or, The Love that Lived 329 + 78 Redeemed by Love; or, Love’s Victory; or, Love Works Wonders 240 + 76 Wife in Name Only; or, A Broken Heart 287 + 79 Wedded and Parted + 92 Lord Lynne’s Choice 197 + 148 Thorns and Orange-Blossoms 319 + 151 The Ducie Diamonds + 155 Lady Muriel’s Secret 185 + 156 “For a Dream’s Sake” 189 + 174 Under a Ban 270 + 190 Romance of a Black Veil 160 + 194 “So Near, and Yet So Far!” + 220 Which Loved Him Best? or, Two Fair Women 184 + 237 Repented at Leisure 283 + 244 A Great Mistake 384 + 246 A Fatal Dower 249 + 249 “Prince Charlie’s Daughter;” or, The Cost of Her Love 191 + 250 Sunshine and Roses; or, Diana’s Discipline 244 + 254 The Wife’s Secret, and Fair but False + 273 For Life and Love + 283 The Sin of a Lifetime; or, Vivien’s Atonement 201 + 285 The Gambler’s Wife 309 + 291 Love’s Warfare 181 + 292 A Golden Heart 184 + 296 A Rose in Thorns 183 + 299 The Fatal Lilies, and A Bride from the Sea + 300 A Gilded Sin + 303 Ingledew House, and More Bitter than Death + 304 In Cupid’s Net + 305 A Dead Heart, and Lady Gwendoline’s Dream + 306 A Golden Dawn, and Lover for a Day + 307 Two Kisses, and Like no Other Love + 308 Beyond Pardon 268 + 322 A Woman’s Love-Story 173 + 328 A Willful Maid 210 + 335 The White Witch 294 + 352 At Any Cost + 411 A Bitter Atonement 290 + 430 A Bitter Reckoning + 433 My Sister Kate + 459 A Woman’s Temptation 277 + 460 Under a Shadow 245 + 461 His Wedded Wife 300 + 465 The Earl’s Atonement 254 + 466 Between Two Loves 220 + 467 A Struggle for a Ring 245 + 469 Lady Damer’s Secret 256 + 470 Evelyn’s Folly 268 + 471 Thrown on the World 223 + 476 Between Two Sins; or, Married in Haste + 516 Put Asunder; or, Lady Castlemaine’s Divorce 261 + 518 The Hidden Sin 312 + 519 James Gordon’s Wife 272 + 547 A Coquette’s Conquest 304 + 576 Her Martyrdom 289 + 626 A Fair Mystery; or, The Perils of Beauty 456 + 628 Wedded Hands 358 + 677 Griselda 234 + 741 The Heiress of Hilldrop; or, The Romance of a Young Girl 285 + 745 For Another’s Sin; or, A Struggle for Love 313 + 755 Margery Dew 226 + 759 In Shallow Waters 202 + 778 Society’s Verdict 319 + 792 Set in Diamonds 277 + 807 If Love Be Love 257 + 821 The World Between Them 368 + 822 A Passion Flower 352 + 829 The Actor’s Ward 315 + 853 A True Magdalen; or, One False Step 364 + 854 A Woman’s Error 286 + 908 A Willful Young Woman 283 + 922 Marjorie 346 + 923 At War With Herself 258 + 924 ’Twixt Smile and Tear 391 + 927 Sweet Cymbeline 358 + 928 The False Vow; or, Hilda; or, Lady Hutton’s Ward 261 + 928 Hilda; or, The False Vow; or, Lady Hutton’s Ward 261 + 929 The Belle of Lynn; or, The Miller’s Daughter 263 + 931 Lady Diana’s Pride; or, One Against Many 177 + 933 A Hidden Terror 264 + 948 The Shadow of a Sin 217 + 949 Claribel’s Love Story; or, Love’s Hidden Depths 296 + 952 A Woman’s War 319 + 953 Hilary’s Folly; or, Her Marriage Vow 312 + 955 From Gloom to Sunlight; or, From Out the Gloom 328 + 958 A Haunted Life; or, Her Terrible Sin 288 + 964 A Struggle for the Right 245 + 967 Bonnie Doon + 968 Blossom and Fruit; or, Madame’s Ward 313 + 969 The Mystery of Colde Fell; or, Not Proven 269 + 973 The Squire’s Darling 160 + 975 A Dark Marriage Morn 311 + 978 Her Second Love 198 + 982 The Duke’s Secret 335 + 985 On Her Wedding Morn, and The Mystery of the Holly-Tree 178 + 988 The Shattered Idol, and Letty Leigh 191 + 990 The Earl’s Error, and Arnold’s Promise + 995 An Unnatural Bondage, and That Beautiful Lady 164 + 1006 His Wife’s Judgment 302 + 1008 A Thorn in Her Heart 256 + 1010 Golden Gates 256 + 1012 A Nameless Sin 229 + 1014 A Mad Love 270 + 1031 Irene’s Vow 265 + 1052 Signa’s Sweetheart 361 + 1091 A Modern Cinderella + 1134 Lord Elesmere’s Wife 401 + 1155 Lured Away; or, The Story of a Wedding-Ring, + and The Heiress of Arne 160 + 1179 Beauty’s Marriage + 1185 A Fiery Ordeal 206 + 1186 Guelda 219 + 1195 Dumaresq’s Temptation 324 + 1285 Jenny 187 + 1291 The Star of Love 212 + 1328 Lord Lisle’s Daughter + 1338 A Woman’s Vengeance 215 + 1343 Dream Faces 296 + 1373 The Story of an Error 299 + 1415 Weaker than a Woman 289 + 1444 The Queen of the County 386 + 1628 Love Works Wonders; or, Love’s Victory; or, Redeemed by Love 270 + 1951 The Mystery of Woodleigh Grange + 2010 Her Only Sin + 2011 A Fatal Wedding 160 + 2012 A Bright Wedding-Day; or, Her Mother’s Sin 174 + 2013 One Against Many; or, Lady Diana’s Pride 177 + 2014 One False Step; or, A True Magdalen 361 + 2015 Two Fair Women; or, Which Loved Him Best? 184 + 2053 The Love that Lived; or, Madolin’s Lover 329 + 2068 Lady Latimer’s Escape 236 + 2188 His Perfect Trust 338 + + +Fredrika Bremer. + + 187 The Midnight Sun + + +Charlotte Bronte. + + 15 Jane Eyre 337 + 57 Shirley 405 + 944 The Professor 228 + + +Rhoda Broughton. + + 86 Belinda 261 + 101 Second Thoughts 253 + 227 Nancy 234 + 645 Mrs. Smith of Longmains + 758 “Good-bye, Sweetheart!” 344 + 765 Not Wisely, But Too Well 314 + 767 Joan 362 + 768 Red as a Rose is She 355 + 769 Cometh Up as a Flower 278 + 862 Betty’s Visions + 894 Doctor Cupid 319 + 1599 Alas! 387 + + +Louise de Bruneval. + + 1686* Sœur Louise 175 + + +Robert Buchanan. + + 145 “Storm-Beaten:” God and The Man 208 + 154* Annan Water 197 + 181* The New Abelard 176 + 268 The Martyrdom of Madeline + 398* Matt + 468* The Shadow of the Sword 282 + 646* The Master of the Mine 189 + 892 That Winter Night; or, Love’s Victory + 1074* Stormy Waters 238 + 1104* The Heir of Linne 185 + 1350 Love Me Forever + 1455* The Moment After + + +Frank T. Bullen. + + 2008 The Cruise of the “Catchalot” 258 + + +John Bunyan. + + 1498 The Pilgrim’s Progress. Illustrated 307 + + +Captain Fred Burnaby. + + 330* “Our Radicals” + 375 A Ride to Khiva 173 + 384 On Horseback Through Asia Minor 290 + + +Aaron Ainsworth Burr. + + 951 Zo, A Perfect Woman + + +John Bloundelle-Burton. + + 918 The Silent Shore; or, The Mystery of St. James’ Park + + +Beatrice M. Butt. + + 1354* Dellcia 189 + + +E. Lasseter Bynner. + + 1456* Nimport 494 + 1460* Tritons 406 + + +Lord Byron. + + 719 Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage 163 + + +E. Fairfax Byrrne. + + 521* Entangled 251 + 538 A Fair Country Maid 263 + + +Mrs. Caddy. + + 127* Adrian Bright 400 + + +Hall Caine. + + 445 The Shadow of a Crime 242 + 520 She’s All the World to Me + 1234 The Deemster 343 + 1255 The Bondman 357 + 2079 A Son of Hagar 354 + + +Mona Caird. + + 1699* The Wing of Azrael 305 + + +Ada Cambridge. + + 1583 A Marked Man 355 + 1967 My Guardian 250 + 2139 The Three Miss Kings 338 + + +Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron. + + 595 A North Country Main 277 + 796 In a Grass Country 301 + 891* Vera Nevill; or, Poor Wisdom’s Chance 306 + 912 Pure Gold 401 + 963 Worth Winning 222 + 1025 Daisy’s Dilemma + 1028 A Devout Lover; or, A Wasted Love 271 + 1070 A Life’s Mistake 176 + 1204 The Lodge by the Sea 170 + 1205 A Lost Wife 179 + 1236 Her Father’s Daughter 256 + 1261 Wild George’s Daughter 178 + 1290 The Cost of a Lie 178 + 1292 Bosky Dell 250 + 1782* A Dead Past 318 + 1819* Neck or Nothing + + +Lady Colin Campbell. + + 1325* Darell Blake 274 + + +Rosa Nouchette Carey. + + 215 Not Like Other Girls 320 + 396 Robert Ord’s Atonement 376 + 551 Barbara Heathcote’s Trial 538 + 608 For Lilias 399 + 930 Uncle Max 430 + 932 Queenie’s Whim 436 + 934 Wooed and Married 496 + 936 Nellie’s Memories 546 + 961 Wee Wifie 350 + 1033 Esther: A Story for Girls 194 + 1064 Only the Governess 323 + 1135 Aunt Diana 177 + 1194 The Search for Basil Lyndhurst 468 + 1208 Merle’s Crusade 226 + 1545 Lover or Friend? 487 + 1879 Mary St. John 407 + 1965 Averil 217 + 1966 Our Bessie 244 + 1968 Heriot’s Choice 440 + + +Capt. L. C. Carleton. + + 1902 The Man of Death + 1907 Eagle Eyes, the Scout + 1910 The Trapper’s Retreat + 1911 The Wild Man of the Woods. Illustrated + + +William Carleton. + + 1493 Willy Reilly 458 + 1552 Shane Fadh’s Wedding + 1553 Larry McFarland’s Wake + 1554 The Party Fight and Funeral + 1556 The Midnight Mass + 1557 Phil Purcel + 1558 An Irish Oath + 1560 Going to Maynooth + 1561 Phelim O’Toole’s Courtship + 1562 Dominick, the Poor Scholar + 1564 Neal Malone + + +“Carolus.” + + 2210 The Story of L’Aiglon + + +Alice Comyne Carr. + + 571* Paul Crew’s Story + + +Lewis Carroll. + + 462 Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Illustrated by John Tenniel 189 + 789 Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There. + Illustrated by John Tenniel 230 + + +Cervantes. + + 1576 Don Quixote 635 + + +L. W. Champuey. + + 1468* Bourbon Lilies 388 + + +Erckmann-Chatrian. + + 329 The Bells; or, The Polish Jew. + (Translated from the French by Caroline A. Merighi) + + +Victor Cherbuliez. + + 1516* Samuel Brohl & Co. 222 + + +Mary Cholmondeley. + + 2217 The Danvers Jewels + + +Mrs. C. M. Clarke. + + 1801* More True than Truthful 232 + + +W. M. Clemens. + + 1544 Famous Funny Fellows 214 + + +Captain Clewline. + + 1912 The Boy Whalers + 1913 The Island Demon + + +Mrs. W. K. Clifford. + + 546 Mrs. Keith’s Crime 172 + 2104 Love Letters of a Worldly Woman + + +Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. + + 1949 The Queen’s Revenge + 1950 Ivan, the Serf + + +J. Maclaren Cobban. + + 485* Tinted Vapours + 1279* Master of His Fate 193 + 1511* A Reverend Gentleman 320 + + +John Coleman. + + 504 Curly: An Actor’s Story + + +C. R. Coleridge. + + 403* An English Squire 266 + 1689* A Near Relation 265 + + +Beatrice Collensie. + + 1352* A Double Marriage 267 + + +Mabel Collins. + + 749 Lord Vanecourt’s Daughter 324 + 828 The Prettiest Woman in Warsaw 288 + 1463 Ida: An Adventure in Morocco + + +Wilkie Collins. + + 52 The New Magdalen 234 + 102 The Moonstone 352 + 167 Heart and Science 250 + 168 No Thoroughfare. By Dickens and Collins + 175 Love’s Random Shot, and Other Stories + 233 “I Say No;” or, The Love-Letter Answered 237 + 508 The Girl at the Gate + 591 The Queen of Hearts 366 + 613 The Ghost’s Touch, and Percy and the Prophet + 623 My Lady’s Money 167 + 701 The Woman in White 628 + 702 Man and Wife 614 + 764 The Evil Genius 300 + 896 The Guilty River + 946 The Dead Secret 348 + 977 The Haunted Hotel 197 + 1029 Armadale 676 + 1095 The Legacy of Cain 281 + 1119 No Name 623 + 1269 Blind Love 313 + 1347 A Rogue’s Life 188 + 1608 Tales of Two Idle Apprentices. By Dickens and Collins + + +M. J. Colquhoun. + + 624* Primus in Indis 162 + 1469* Every Inch a Soldier 286 + + +Lucy Randall Comfort. + + 2072 For Marjorie’s Sake 198 + + +Hugh Conway. + + 240 Called Back + 251* The Daughter of the Stars, and Other Tales + 301 Dark Days 197 + 302* The Blatchford Bequest + 341* A Dead Man’s Face + 502* Carriston’s Gift + 525 Paul Vargas, and Other Stories + 543 A Family Affair 206 + 601* Slings and Arrows, and Other Stories + 711 A Cardinal Sin 351 + 804 Living or Dead 279 + 830 Bound by a Spell 169 + 1353 All In One 206 + 1684* Story of a Sculptor + 1722* Somebody’s Story + + +Ralph Connor. + + 2209 Black Rock + + +Edward H. Cooper. + + 2182 The Marchioness Against the County 205 + + +J. Fenimore Cooper. + + 60 The Last of the Mohicans 346 + 63 The Spy 278 + + +25 Cents a Copy, or Five Copies for $1, Post-paid. + + + + +THE SWEETHEART SERIES. + +This series contains the most popular books of the day. They are 12mos, +printed on good paper, in large, clear type, and bound in handsome +photogravure covers. + + + 51 A Fiery Ordeal Charlotte M. Braeme + 52 Between Two Loves Charlotte M. Braeme + 53 Beyond Pardon Charlotte M. Braeme + 54 A Bitter Atonement Charlotte M. Braeme + 55 A Broken Wedding-Ring Charlotte M. Braeme + 56 Dora Thorne Charlotte M. Braeme + 57 The Earl’s Atonement Charlotte M. Braeme + 58 Evelyn’s Folly Charlotte M. Braeme + 59 A Golden Heart Charlotte M. Braeme + 60 Her Martyrdom Charlotte M. Braeme + 61 Her Second Love Charlotte M. Braeme + 62 Lady Damer’s Secret Charlotte M. Braeme + 63 Lady Hutton’s Ward Charlotte M. Braeme + 64 Lord Lisle’s Daughter Charlotte M. Braeme + 65 A Study in Scarlet A. Conan Doyle + 66 Lord Lynne’s Choice Charlotte M. Braeme + 67 Love Works Wonders Charlotte M. Braeme + 68 Prince Charlie’s Daughter Charlotte M. Braeme + 69 Put Asunder; or, Lady Castlemaine’s Divorce Charlotte M. Braeme + 70 Repented at Leisure Charlotte M. Braeme + 71 A Struggle for a Ring Charlotte M. Braeme + 72 Sunshine and Roses Charlotte M. Braeme + 73 Thorns and Orange-Blossoms Charlotte M. Braeme + 74 The Honorable Mrs. Vereker “The Duchess” + 75 Under-Currents “The Duchess” + 76 A Born Coquette “The Duchess” + 77 Under a Shadow Charlotte M. Braeme + 78 Weaker Than a Woman Charlotte M. Braeme + 79 Wedded and Parted Charlotte M. Braeme + 80 Which Loved Him Best? Charlotte M. Braeme + 81 Wife in Name Only Charlotte M. Braeme + 82 A Woman’s Temptation Charlotte M. Braeme + 83 A Queen Amongst Women Charlotte M. Braeme + 84 Madolin’s Lover Charlotte M. Braeme + 85 Only the Governess Rosa N. Carey + 86 Camille Alexander Dumas + 87 The Sin of a Lifetime Charlotte M. Braeme + 88 Love’s Warfare Charlotte M. Braeme + 89 ’Twixt Smile and Tear Charlotte M. Braeme + 90 Sweet Cymbeline Charlotte M. Braeme + 91 April’s Lady “The Duchess” + 92 Vendetta! Marie Corelli + 93 The Squire’s Darling Charlotte M. Braeme + 94 The Gambler’s Wife Charlotte M. Braeme + 95 A Fatal Dower Charlotte M. Braeme + 96 Her Mother’s Sin Charlotte M. Braeme + 97 Romance of a Black Veil Charlotte M. Braeme + 98 A Rose in Thorns Charlotte M. Braeme + 99 Lord Elesmere’s Wife Charlotte M. Braeme + 100 The Dolly Dialogues Anthony Hope + 101 The Kreutzer Sonata Count Lyof Tolstoi + 102 Anna Karénine Count Lyof Tolstoi + 103 The Mystery of Woodleigh Grange Charlotte M. Braeme + 104 Martha; or, The Story of a + Clergyman’s Daughter W. Heimburg + 105 His Word of Honor; + or, What the Spring Brought E. Werner + 106 She Fell in Love With Her Husband; + or, “Good Luck;” + or, Success, and How He Won It E. Werner + 107 Ivan, the Serf Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. + 108 The Queen’s Revenge Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. + 109 The Price He Paid E. Werner + 110 The Master of Ettersberg E. Werner + 111 Tempest and Sunshine Mary Mary J. Holmes + 112 The Homestead on the Hillside Mary J. Holmes + 113 The English Orphans Mary J. Holmes + 114 The Boat Club Oliver Optic + 115 Ballads and Other Verses Rudyard Kipling + 116 The Drums of the Fore and Aft Rudyard Kipling + 117 The Royal Chase Amédée Achard + 118 Little Goldie Mrs. Sumner Hayden + 119 Inez: A Tale of the Alamo Augusta J. Evans + 120 All Aboard! Oliver Optic + 121 Now or Never Oliver Optic + 122 Lena Rivers Mary J. Holmes + 123 Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyúm + 124 She Loved Him Charles Garvice + 125 In His Steps. “What Would Jesus Do?” Rev. C. M. Sheldon + 126 Meadow Brook Mary J. Holmes + 127 The Iron Pirate Max Pemberton + 128 The Hypocrite + 129 Dead Man’s Rock “Q” (Arthur T. + Quiller-Couch) + 130 The Phantom Future Henry S. Merriman + 131 Prisoners and Captives Henry S. Merriman + 132 A Parisian Romance Octave Feuillet + 133 Carmen: The Power of Love Prosper Merimée + 134 Prue and I George Wm. Curtis + 135 The Heiress of Glen Gower May Agnes Fleming + 136 Magdalen’s Vow May Agnes Fleming + 137 Who Wins? May Agnes Fleming + 138 Lady Evelyn May Agnes Fleming + 139 Estella’s Husband May Agnes Fleming + 140 The Baronet’s Bride May Agnes Fleming + 141 The Unseen Bridegroom May Agnes Fleming + 142 Young Mistley Henry S. Merriman + 143 The Sherlock Holmes Detective Stories A. Conan Doyle + 144 A Girl of the Klondike Victoria Cross + 145 Paula. A Sketch from Life Victoria Cross + 146 Sappho Alphonse Daudet + 147 Manon Lescant L’Abbé Prévost + 148 The Dance of Death Jean Corey + 149 A Charity Girl Effie A. Rowlands + 150 Husband and Foe Effie A. Rowlands + 151 Little Lady Charles Effie A. Rowlands + 152 Cast Up by the Tide Dora Delmar + 153 The Scent of the Roses Dora Delmar + 154 Hearts And Lives Wenona Gilman + 155 Blind Dan’s Daughter Wenona Gilman + 156 Val, the Tomboy Wenona Gilman + 157 My Little Princess Wenona Gilman + 158 The Banker’s Daughter Magdalen Barrett + 159 The Depth of Love Hannah Blomgren + 160 His Legal Wife Mary E. Bryan + 161 Lillian’s Vow Mrs. E. Burke Collins + 162 Sold for Gold Mrs. E. Burke Collins + 163 A Heart of Fire Jean Corey + 164 Shadow and Sunshine Adna H. Lightner + 165 Lady Gay’s Pride Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller + 166 Lancaster’s Choice Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller + 167 Tiger-Lily Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller + 168 The Pearl and the Ruby Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller + 169 Eric Braddon’s Love Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller + 170 Little Sweetheart Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller + 171 Flower and Jewel Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller + 172 Little Nobody Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller + 173 Under Five Lakes M. Quad + 174 Her Second Choice Charlotte M. Stanley + 175 His Country Cousin Charlotte M. Stanley + 176 Frou-Frou Charlotte M. Stanley + 177 The Little Light-House Lass Elizabeth Stiles + 178 The Man She Loved Effie A. Rowlands + 179 An Impossible Thing Katharine Wynne + 180 Woman, the Mystery Henry Herman + 181 Christie Johnstone Charles Reade + 182 The Blithedale Romance Nathan’l Hawthorne + 183 Through Green Glasses F. M. Allen + 184 One Man’s Evil Effie A. Rowlands + 185 A Willful Maid Charlotte M. Braeme + 186 A Woman’s Love Story Charlotte M. Braeme + + +For sale by all newsdealers and booksellers, or sent, postpaid on +receipt of 25 cents each, or five copies for $1.00, by the publishers. + + Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, + 17 to 27 VANDEWATER STREET, NEW YORK. + + + + +THE CELEBRATED + +SOHMER + +Heads the List of the Highest-Grade Pianos, and + + Are the + favorite + of the Artist + and the + refined + Musical public. + +[Illustration] + + +_Every Genuine SOHMER Piano has the following Trade mark stamped upon +the sounding-board._ + +[Illustration: IMITATIONS OF THE “SOHMER PIANO” HAVE COMPELLED THE FIRM +TO ADOPT THE ABOVE “TRADE MARK”] + + + SOHMER & CO., + NEW YORK WAREROOMS: + Sohmer Building, Fifth Avenue, Cor. 22d Street. + + CAUTION.--The buying public will please not confound the genuine + S-O-H-M-E-R Piano with one of a similar sounding name of a cheap grade. + + + + +Transcriber’s Notes: + + +Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. + +Table of contents has been added and placed into the public domain by +the transcriber. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76634 *** diff --git a/76634-h/76634-h.htm b/76634-h/76634-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..608e1d0 --- /dev/null +++ b/76634-h/76634-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9918 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> +<meta charset="UTF-8"> +<title> + Lillian's vow | Project Gutenberg +</title> +<link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> +<style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} +.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +hr.r5 {width: 5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 47.5%; margin-right: 47.5%;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +td { vertical-align: top; } + +.tdl {text-align: left;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} /* page numbers */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} +.x-ebookmaker .figleft {float: none; text-align: center; margin-right: 0;} + +/* Poetry */ +/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry */ +/* .poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} */ +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:small; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; +} + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3em;} +.poetry .indent1 {text-indent: -2.5em;} +.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2em;} +.poetry .indent3 {text-indent: -1.5em;} + +.tiny {font-size: 50%;} +.small {font-size: 75%;} +.medium {font-size: 125%;} +.large {font-size:150%;} +.sig {text-align: right; margin-right: 2.5em; } + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowe120 {width: 60em;} +.illowe38_1875 {width: 15em;} +.illowe43_5 {width: 20em;} +.illowe47_4375 {width: 20em;} +.illowe54_625 {width: 20em;} + +table.seaside { min-width: 75%; } +table.seaside td.tdr, table.seaside th.tdr { width: 7em; } + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76634 ***</div> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe120" id="cover"> +<img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<p class="center small">PRICE 25 CENTS</p> + +<h1>Lillian’s Vow</h1> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="center medium">BY MRS. E. BURKE COLLINS</p> + +<p class="center small">THE SWEETHEART SERIES.</p> + +<table> +<tr><td> +<p class="medium">GEORGE<br> +MUNRO’S<br> +SONS,<br> +PUBLISHERS,</p> +</td><td class="tdr"> +<p class="medium">17 to 27<br> +VANDEWATER<br> +STREET,<br> +NEW YORK.</p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td> +<p class="tiny">Copyright, 1898, by George Munro’s Sons.</p> +</td><td> +<p class="tiny">By Subscription, $10.00 per Annum. +</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_SWEETHEART_SERIES">THE SWEETHEART SERIES.</h2> +</div> + + +<p>This series contains the most popular books of the day. +They are 12mos, printed on good paper, in large, clear type, +and bound in handsome photogravure covers.</p> + +<table> +<tr><td class="tdr">1</td><td class="tdl">The Marquis</td><td class="tdl">Charles Garvice</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2</td><td class="tdl">Beautiful Ione’s Lover</td><td class="tdl">Laura Jean Libbey</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">3</td><td class="tdl">The Midnight Marriage</td><td class="tdl">Mrs. Sumner Hayden</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">4</td><td class="tdl">All For Love of a Fair Face</td><td class="tdl">Laura Jean Libbey</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">5</td><td class="tdl">A Wasted Love</td><td class="tdl">Charles Garvice</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">6</td><td class="tdl">Daisy Brooks</td><td class="tdl">Laura Jean Libbey</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">7</td><td class="tdl">Leslie’s Loyalty</td><td class="tdl">Charles Garvice</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">8</td><td class="tdl">Little Rosebud’s Lovers</td><td class="tdl">Laura Jean Libbey</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">9</td><td class="tdl">Elaine</td><td class="tdl">Charles Garvice</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">10</td><td class="tdl">A Struggle for a Heart</td><td class="tdl">Laura Jean Libbey</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdl">Claire</td><td class="tdl">Charles Garvice</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">12</td><td class="tdl">Junie’s Love-Test</td><td class="tdl">Laura Jean Libbey</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">13</td><td class="tdl">Her Heart’s Desire</td><td class="tdl">Charles Garvice</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">14</td><td class="tdl">Leonie Locke</td><td class="tdl">Laura Jean Libbey</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">15</td><td class="tdl">Her Ransom</td><td class="tdl">Charles Garvice</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">16</td><td class="tdl">Madolin Rivers</td><td class="tdl">Laura Jean Libbey</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">17</td><td class="tdl">A Coronet of Shame</td><td class="tdl">Charles Garvice</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">18</td><td class="tdl">The Heiress of Cameron Hall</td><td class="tdl">Laura Jean Libbey</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">19</td><td class="tdl">Woman Against Woman</td><td class="tdl">Mrs. M. A. Holmes</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">20</td><td class="tdl">The Song of Miriam</td><td class="tdl">Marie Corelli</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">21</td><td class="tdl">Lorrie; or, Hollow Gold</td><td class="tdl">Charles Garvice</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">22</td><td class="tdl">His Perfect Trust</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">23</td><td class="tdl">Addie’s Husband</td><td class="tdl">By the Author of “Jessie”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">24</td><td class="tdl">The Heiress of Hilldrop</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">25</td><td class="tdl">For Another’s Sin</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">26</td><td class="tdl">Set in Diamonds</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">27</td><td class="tdl">The World Between Them</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">28</td><td class="tdl">A Passion Flower</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">29</td><td class="tdl">A True Magdalen</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">30</td><td class="tdl">A Woman’s Error</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">31</td><td class="tdl">Leonie, the Sweet Street Singer</td><td class="tdl">By the Author of “For Mother’s Sake”</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">32</td><td class="tdl">At War with Herself</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">33</td><td class="tdl">The Belle of Lynn</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">34</td><td class="tdl">The Shadow of a Sin</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">35</td><td class="tdl">Claribel’s Love Story</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">36</td><td class="tdl">A Woman’s War</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">37</td><td class="tdl">Lady Audley’s Secret</td><td class="tdl">Miss M. E. Braddon</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">38</td><td class="tdl">Hilary’s Folly</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">39</td><td class="tdl">From Gloom to Sunlight</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">40</td><td class="tdl">A Haunted Life</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">41</td><td class="tdl">The Mystery of Colde Fell; or, Not Proven</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">42</td><td class="tdl">A Dark Marriage Morn</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">43</td><td class="tdl">The Duke’s Secret</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">44</td><td class="tdl">His Wife’s Judgment</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">45</td><td class="tdl">A Thorn in Her Heart</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">46</td><td class="tdl">A Nameless Sin</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">47</td><td class="tdl">A Mad Love</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">48</td><td class="tdl">Irene’s Vow</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">49</td><td class="tdl">Signa’s Sweetheart</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">50</td><td class="tdl">Not Like Other Girls</td><td class="tdl">Rosa N. Carey</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>For sale by all newsdealers and booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt +of 25 cents each, or five copies for $1.00, by the publishers.</p> + +<p class="center"> +Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS,</p><p class="right"> +17 to 27 <span class="smcap">Vandewater Street, New York</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2>LILLIAN’S VOW;</h2> +<p class="center">OR,</p> +<p class="center medium">THE MYSTERY OF RALEIGH HOUSE</p> +<p class="center p4">BY</p> +<p class="center medium">MRS. E. BURKE COLLINS.</p> +<p class="center p6 small"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1889, by George Munro.</span></p> +<p class="p4"> </p> +<figure class="figcenter illowe47_4375" id="i0"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i0.jpg" alt="SWEETHEART SERIES"> +</figure> + +<p class="center p4"><span class="smcap">New York</span>:<br> +<span class="medium">GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, PUBLISHERS,</span><br> +<span class="smcap">17 to 27 Vandewater Street</span>.<br> +</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span></p> +</div> + +<figure class="figleft illowe38_1875" id="i1"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i1.jpg" alt=""> +<figcaption class="caption"><p><b>Purifies as +well as Beautifies +the Skin</b> +No other cosmetic +will do it.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p class="center medium">A SKIN OF BEAUTY IS A JOY FOREVER.</p> + +<p class="center">DR. T. FELIX GOURAUD’S</p> + +<p class="center medium">Oriental Cream, or Magical Beautifier,</p> + +<p>Removes Tan, Pimples, Freckles, Moth-Patches, Rash +and Skin diseases, and every blemish on beauty, and +defies detection. On its virtues it has stood the test +of 54 years; no other has; and is so harmless we taste +it to be sure it is properly made. Accept no +counterfeit of similar name. The distinguished +Dr. L. A. Sayre said to a lady of the +<i>haut ton</i> (a patient): “<i>As you ladies will use +them, I recommend ‘Gouraud’s Cream’ as +the least harmful of all the Skin preparations.</i>” +One bottle will last six months, using +it every day.<b>Gouraud’s Poudre +Subtile removes superfluous hair +without injury to the skin.</b></p> + +<p class="center"> +FERD. T. HOPKINS, Proprietor,</p><p class="right"> +37 Great Jones St., New York.</p> + +<p>For sale by all Druggists and Fancy Goods +Dealers throughout the U. S., Canadas, and +Europe.</p> + +<p>Also found in N. Y. City at R. H. Macy’s, +Wanamaker’s, and other Fancy Goods Dealers. ☞ Beware of Base Imitations. +$1,000 Reward for arrest and proof of any one selling the same.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="Practical_Palmistry"><span class="smcap">Practical Palmistry.</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class="center medium">A TREATISE ON CHIROSOPHY,</p> + +<p class="center">BASED ON ACTUAL EXPERIENCES.</p> + +<p class="center"><b>By HENRY FRITH.</b></p> + +<p class="center">WITH MANY ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="center">ALSO,</p> + +<p class="center large">HOW TO HYPNOTIZE.</p> + +<p class="center medium">Including the Whole Art of Mesmerism.</p> + +<p class="center"><b>By PROFESSOR BARTER.</b></p> + + +<p>This is the most comprehensive treatise on Palmistry +and Hypnotism that has ever been issued.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p class="small">For sale by all newsdealers, or sent by mail, postage paid, on +receipt of 25 cents, by the publishers. Address</p> +</div> + +<p class="center small"> +GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, <span class="smcap">Publishers</span>,<br> +P. O. Box 1781. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York.<br> +</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="LILLIANS_VOW">LILLIAN’S VOW.</h2> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2> +</div> + + +<p class="center"> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I. POOR LILLIAN!</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II. MISS RALEIGH’S COMPANION.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III. HAUNTED.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV. APRES!</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V. JACK STRIKES A BLOW.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI. IN THE ROUND ROOM.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII. ROSAMOND SPEAKS HER MIND.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII. HER LORD AND MASTER.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX. DECEIVED.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X. ACCEPTED.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI. IN THE CONSERVATORY.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII. FROM THE OTHER WORLD.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII. A GUILTY CONSCIENCE.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV. MISJUDGED.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV. THE DIE IS CAST.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI. A TRYING ORDEAL.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII. A SNAKE IN THE GRASS.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII. “BEWARE!”</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX. BESSIE SEES THE GAME.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX. GREEK MEETS GREEK.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI. IN AMBUSH.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII. HER FLIGHT.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII. VAN ALSTYNE’S REVENGE.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV. GONE TO HER DOOM.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV. FORGED FETTERS.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI. FACE TO FACE.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII. UNMASKED.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII. GEOFFREY GREY ATONES.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX. DISCOVERED.</a><br> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX. THE END.</a><br> +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">POOR LILLIAN!</p> + + +<p>“Help! Help!”</p> + +<p>A hoarse groan, a stifled cry, then silence settled down. +A clear, crisp wintery night, with the great city lying +asleep beneath an opal-tinted sky, the rush and roar of the +day’s turmoil temporarily suspended. It was late, and +few people were abroad, especially upon this retired street, +where a flickering, flaring electric light threw a yellow glare +over the scene.</p> + +<p>A man—old and white-haired, frail and feeble—was +struggling in the grasp of strong hands, while a dark face, +over which a broad-brimmed felt hat was slouched, so that +his eyes and the upper part of his face were hidden from +sight, bent over him, glaring down into the white, frightened +countenance of his victim.</p> + +<p>That this was no common case of garroting or highway +robbery was apparent at a glance.</p> + +<p>“Where is it?” hissed the assailant. “Give it to me at +once, Gilbert Leigh, or, as sure as I live, I will kill you! +Give me the book—the memorandum-book in your possession, +with all its contents undisturbed! You <i>must</i> do it! +You shall, Gilbert Leigh! You hold my liberty, my very +life, in your hands. You must be mad to think that I +would let you go until I have gained possession of the +book! Give it to me, I say, or—”</p> + +<p>The strong fingers of his right hand tightened their hold<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span> +upon the old man’s throat, while the other hand went into +the inner pocket of the thick, warm overcoat that the old +man wore. Something was quickly transferred from the +pocket to that of the assailant—something which proved +to be a long, leathern book fastened with a band of stout +elastic. The dusky eyes under the slouched hat sparkled +with gratification, and low under his breath he panted +swiftly:</p> + +<p>“I have it! The book is mine! And so will perish +every clew to my guilt! I would die before the truth +should be known! Why, this old man held proofs which +would have ruined me and ousted me from my high position! +I would—”</p> + +<p>“Stop!”</p> + +<p>The word, gasped feebly, fell from the pale lips of the +half-dead old man.</p> + +<p>“Listen to me,” he went on, brokenly, as the hold of +the other gradually relaxed from about his throat. “I +have a word to say. In—in—my investigations among the +books and papers of your office—investigations which I was +commanded to make by my superiors—I have discovered +that you are not only a forger and embezzler—a living disgrace +to the time-honored name that you bear—but that +you are—”</p> + +<p>He bent his gray head and whispered a few words in the +ears of the other man. With a savage howl, like a wild +beast suddenly let loose upon its prey, he flashed about and +grasped the old man once more by the throat. There was +murder now in the dark eyes gleaming under the broad-brimmed +felt hat.</p> + +<p>“<i>Die!</i>” he panted, hoarsely, “you miserable old spy! +Say your prayers now, for I am going to kill you!”</p> + +<p>“By Jove! we’ll see about that!” cried a clear, ringing +voice, as firm footsteps drew rapidly near, and a tall figure +came to an abrupt halt. Crash! went a blow—a back-handed, +powerful blow—which landed directly in the chest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span> +of the would-be assassin. There was a dull thud as a dark +form dropped to the pavement, then the electric light went +out in that sudden and exasperating way which electric +lights are prone to do upon the smallest provocation, and +when it flared up once more, the limp, lifeless form upon +the pavement and the tall figure of the new-comer bending +over it were the only objects in sight. The new-comer, the +man who had struck the blow, was tall and handsome, with +pale, olive complexion, soft, dark eyes and waves of dark +hair. A face good to look at anywhere. He stooped and +peered into the old man’s upturned countenance, a delicate +patrician face, with clear-cut features, and a broad forehead +with a fringe of soft white hair.</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid he’s dead, poor fellow!” said the young +man, ruefully. “Well, of course it will be another item +for the ‘Daily Thunderer,’ and I wouldn’t be a hard-working +journalist, with my fortune all to make, if I did +not welcome an item.”</p> + +<p>He was speaking lightly, as one accustomed to such +scenes, but there was an under-current of feeling in his +voice which revealed the kindly heart beating in his breast.</p> + +<p>He drew from his pocket a policeman’s whistle and blew +a shrill blast.</p> + +<p>Silence for a moment, during which time the young man +proceeded to tear open the old man’s shirt-collar, and lift +the white head to give him a little air.</p> + +<p>There was no sign of life. The chest did not move, the +white hands lay limp and lifeless at his side.</p> + +<p>Tramp, tramp, down the street, swift and straight, came +the echo of heavy footfalls. A moment more the gleam of +a silver badge, a blue uniform, and a gruff voice demanding +sternly:</p> + +<p>“Come, now! What’s all this? Why”—in a tone of +satisfaction—“if it ain’t Mr. Lyndon!”</p> + +<p>The young man grasped the hand extended.</p> + +<p>“Jack Lyndon, of the ‘Daily Thunderer,’ at your service.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span> +Your name is McElroy, I believe? Yes; well, I +found this old man just now in the grasp of a garroter, +highway robber, whatever you may choose to call him. I +struck the fellow a blow, he came down with a thud; but +he got off somehow, and the old man is, I believe—McElroy, +can he be dead?”</p> + +<p>McElroy laid his hand upon the heart of the prostrate +man, and a swift look of horror dawned upon his face, as +the electric light flared up brightly, revealing the features +plainly.</p> + +<p>“Good heavens! it’s Mr. Leigh! Dear, dear! that’s +awful now! And poor Miss Lillian, it will just kill her! +I think, Mr. Lyndon—I really think and fear that the old +man is gone! If it’s so, I tell you what, I wouldn’t like to +face Lillian Leigh with his body. Mr. Lyndon, you never +knew such a case in your life of father and daughter so +wrapped up in each other that they could hardly bear to +be out of each other’s sight. You see, there ain’t none of +the Leigh family left but Miss Lillian and her father. +She does type-writing at home, and old Mr. Leigh himself +was an expert accountant, and some folks say a kind of spy +in the big commercial house of Raleigh & Raleigh—to look +after the interests of the firm in a quiet way, you know; +it’s the biggest commercial concern in the whole state—to +watch over slippery young clerks and wild fellows, to +keep an eye upon all the employees, in fact. A number +of them—I speak the plain truth—are sons of the best +families here. They need watching, Mr. Lyndon”—shaking +his head slowly and dubiously—“sure’s you are born, +they need watching.”</p> + +<p>All this time he had been chafing the thin, white hands, +and trying to force a little brandy between the old man’s +clinched teeth. He laid the white head back against Lyndon’s +knee at last with a low sigh.</p> + +<p>“’Tain’t no use! It really seems like ’tain’t no use, Mr. +Jack. I—I—see—”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span></p> + +<p>He arose to his feet and pointed to a row of buildings, +all alike, with an air of quiet respectability. Their rows +of shuttered windows, each house with its high, arched +porch and white stone steps—the neat brass door-plates at +every door—told, without words, that this was a neighborhood +of boarding-houses and “apartments to let.” The +policeman lifted his club and pointed to a side window in +the second story of one of the houses, where a faint light +gleamed like a star. Even while they gazed, the blind was +opened softly, and some one peered out into the night below. +McElroy groaned.</p> + +<p>“Them’s their rooms up there, Mr. Lyndon!” he said, +softly. “Who is going to bring the old man into the +house? And who—” he flashed about with a tragic gesture—“Good +God! Who’s going to tell Miss Lillian?”</p> + +<p>The window-blind upstairs was closed softly, and the +watching figure disappeared. A strange pang shot through +Jack Lyndon’s big, honest heart. Years afterward, he was +wont to look back upon that moment, and say that it was +a presentiment of what was to come.</p> + +<p>“Poor girl! My heart aches for her!” he muttered. +“It will be a terrible blow to bear.” And then, before he +scarcely realized it, Jack Lyndon found himself standing +upon the white stone steps of No. 3 ——, McElroy at his +side, ringing the door-bell in a peremptory summons. +One! boomed from the tower of a church not far away. +One! repeated a silvery-toned time-piece somewhere within +the silent house at whose door they were standing. Silence—utter +silence—broken at length by the opening of an +upper window, and a masculine voice demanded sternly who +was there, and what they wanted at that time of night.</p> + +<p>A few words made clear the sad situation. The window +was closed, and a little later the house-door was opened, +and the gas-light burning dimly in the hall turned up to a +cheery blaze. They bore him into the wide hall and laid +him, limp and lifeless, upon a sofa there. Somebody telephoned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span> +for the nearest physician, and a group of half-dressed +men and women gathered round the sofa, gazing, +with horror-distended eyes, upon the sad spectacle. Then +the physician bustled in; five minutes’ examination, and +the verdict came. Gilbert Leigh was dead. He had died +from the effects of strangulation.</p> + +<p>“Who will tell Lillian?”</p> + +<p>Somebody asked the question in an awe-stricken voice. +Nobody essayed to reply. It was answered in an unexpected +way. The opening of a door above stairs; a hush +of solemn silence; then the rustle of a woman’s draperies; +flying footsteps down the broad stairs descending into the +hall below, and, before any one could realize the situation, +a slight figure, in a flowing robe of white cashmere, with a +cloud of golden hair streaming over her shoulders, dashed +into their midst, and fell upon her knees by the sofa, while +a pair of soft, white arms went around the old man’s neck.</p> + +<p>“Papa!” One shrill cry which cut to the heart of every +person present. “Papa! Oh, papa, papa! open your eyes +and look at me just once! Speak to me, papa—just one +word! Oh, papa, papa, papa!”</p> + +<p>Jack Lyndon ventured to her side at last, and laid his +hand—a strong, white hand—lightly upon the bowed +golden head.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leigh”—in a voice that quivered with sympathy—“try +to be brave!”</p> + +<p>She lifted a small, childish face—a beautiful face, with +perfectly chiseled features, and eyes so large and deep and +dark that they looked like black velvet.</p> + +<p>“Do you—know—what is wrong, sir?” she faltered, +feebly. “Papa went out this evening—down to the office. +He had papers to attend to. Papa never leaves me alone +when he can help it; but he found that he had forgotten +his memorandum-book. It contained business relating to +the private affairs of his employers which was priceless. +Papa often said that if he lost the book he could never<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span> +enter his employers’ presence again or expect to be treated +with confidence. I know that he would defend the book, +if need be, with his life. Sir”—she arose to her feet with +quiet dignity—“if that book is gone from his body it has +been stolen, and he has been attacked while defending it.”</p> + +<p>Then with a swift burst of passionate grief she flashed +about, and fell upon her knees once more, winding her +arms about her father’s neck; and then, drawing the cold +face down to her own, she laid her white cheek against his.</p> + +<p>“How cold you are, papa!” in a low, tense voice inexpressibly +pathetic. “You were never so cold before. +What is the matter, dear? You are weak and ill and faint, +and—”</p> + +<p>Her eyes fell for the first time upon the great purple +marks about his throat—the cruel marks of the assassin’s +strong fingers. She started up with a bitter cry.</p> + +<p>“What—what does this mean?” she panted, pointing to +the tell-tale marks. “He is dead—dead!”</p> + +<p>The truth had come to her at last. He had been murdered. +The book had been taken from him, and he had +died in its defense.</p> + +<p>“Oh, papa! papa! speak, and tell your little Lily this +awful secret! My papa, who has gone from me forever—tell +me, tell me! You will come back to me, papa! If +disembodied spirits can return to earth, I know that you +will come to me! Speak, papa! Oh, my papa! All I had +to love in the great, cold, cruel world, speak, and tell me—who +did this awful deed?”</p> + +<p>And then a strange occurrence took place. Even the +physician could not repress an exclamation of surprise. +The dead man’s lips parted slowly, and a few drops of blood +oozed from them and trickled down upon the snowy beard. +To those present it seemed for a moment—so wrought up +were they by the awful tragedy—that Gilbert Leigh had +indeed attempted to speak; that in answer to the pitiful beseeching<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span> +of his child, the dumb lips had attempted to frame +a reply and utter the name of his murderer.</p> + +<p>The girl’s pale face froze into an icy calm. She lifted +her right hand with a swift gesture, upon her face a look +which made the spectators hold their breath in speechless +awe.</p> + +<p>“Hear me!” she said, in the same tense voice, “and +bear witness to what I say! I take no oath, I bind myself +by no pledge, I make no wild assertions or prophecies, but, +I say this: my father’s murderer shall yet be found! It +may be years before it comes to pass; but sooner or later, +the man who took Gilbert Leigh’s life in this base, dastardly +manner, shall be found and punished! And when +the hour comes in which I shall stand face to face with +him, when his guilt is exposed and his crime revealed, may +God have mercy upon him, for I shall have none!”</p> + +<p>She sunk upon her knees once more at her dead father’s +side, like a pallid, sad-eyed ghost; and when morning stole +in at the shuttered windows, she was crouching there still. +Not a tear had she shed; not another word had passed her +lips; but there was that in her pale young face which made +all who saw her afraid.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">MISS RALEIGH’S COMPANION.</p> + + +<p>“Which shall I wear, mamma, the pale blue silk, with +white lace and pearl ornaments, or the new amber satin +with hand-painted panels and black lace overdress looped +with diamonds? Ah, yes, that will be the handsomest and +most striking! And I shall wear <i>all</i> the Raleigh diamonds!”</p> + +<p>“But, Rosamond, <i>all</i> the Raleigh diamonds would be too +many jewels for a single toilet. It would be bad taste, my +dear; yet, after all”—Mrs. Raleigh bent her stately head +with its silver-gray puffs in a meditative way—“it would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span> +be something unique! What a woman requires nowadays +in fashionable society is to look as odd and unusual as possible. +But, Rosamond, we live in a great city, and our +fashionable society is controlled by—”</p> + +<p>“The woman I hate!” burst forth Rosamond, vindictively, +with an angry gesture. “She is my own cousin, +but I hate her, hate her, <i>hate</i> her! I tell you, mamma, +the day upon which Cousin Lenore Vane made her grand +marriage was a bad day for her as well as myself! When +she became the wife of a senator I knew then that my reign +was over—that I could never surpass her in position, in +social triumph. And since that day I have hated her as I +have never hated any living creature, and I shall hate her +till I die! To see her surrounded by her satellites is perfectly +nauseating to me, and the absurd flatteries lavished +upon her—why, in her presence I am hardly noticed—nearly +drive me mad!”</p> + +<p>“I know—I understand”—soothingly; “but never +mind, Rosamond! You are bound to make a grand marriage +some day. She is the wife of Senator Van Alstyne, +it is true; but in point of wealth you are—”</p> + +<p>“The daughter of Grafton Raleigh, of the great firm of +Raleigh & Raleigh!” interrupted Rosamond, haughtily. +“No business house in the whole United States holds a +higher or more enviable position! Do not forget that, +mamma!”</p> + +<p>Rosamond Raleigh began to pace up and down the luxurious +room, her delicate blonde face flushed slightly, the +big, china-blue eyes drawn close together with the ugly +scowl which puckered her white forehead, her small, jeweled +hands clinched angrily. She came to a halt at length, +and her face wore a very unlovely expression in its jealous +wrath.</p> + +<p>“The wife of Senator Van Alstyne! And what of +that!” she pouted, angrily. “He is a great, coarse, pompous +creature, most repugnant to me, or to any civilized<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span> +taste. If there was any use in wondering over such matters +in this corrupt age, I would marvel exceedingly that +he should ever have been made a member of the United +States Senate! But these affairs are unfathomable. As +for Lenore, she was always sly and underhand. I know +that she has never cared for her big, red-faced senator, and +only married him to gratify her vanity, and—mamma, +say what you like, you can never change my opinion—there +is a secret in Lenore Vane’s life. And I believe +that, to cover up this secret—this bad, black, unpleasant +secret—she married Senator Van Alstyne!”</p> + +<p>“Rosamond!”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh’s face was pale as death, and in her gray-blue +eyes something like terror.</p> + +<p>“You are talking wildly, daughter,” she returned, trying +to steady her voice. “You could know nothing concerning +Lenore’s past. She is seven years your senior. +You were twenty-five last summer,” she added, musingly.</p> + +<p>“Hush!” Rosamond turned quite pale. “The idea of +your telling my age right out like that! Anyone in the +next room might have heard every word! But, speaking +of Lenore’s position, I am going to shine her down to-morrow +night at her own reception! In point of beauty +she can not hold a candle to me! With her pale, colorless +face, and big, dark eyes, and all that assumption of hauteur! +Bah! I am sick of all the silly flatteries lavished +upon that woman! Ah-h!” hissing the word forth vindictively, +“if only it were in my power to unmask her, to expose +her secret—whatever it may be! And, mamma, listen, +and believe me: I am convinced that the day is coming +when I shall triumph—when I shall cast her down from +her high pedestal into the very dust at my feet! Oh, what +a day that will be!”</p> + +<p>“Rosamond!”</p> + +<p>“Then I will pay back the debt of hatred that I owe, +with compound interest,” hissed the girl, paying no heed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span> +to her mother’s warning voice; “and so, mamma”—changing +to a lighter tone—“I shall go to Madame Lenore +Van Alstyne’s reception to-morrow night, wearing the +Raleigh diamonds and that incomparable amber satin. +You know me well enough to be sure that I am going to +have my own way!”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh sighed as she turned away, while Rosamond +crossed the room to a door which communicated +with a small octagonal apartment, and opened it hastily. +Her face was still harsh and angry, and there was a glitter +in the blue eyes which boded ill for some one.</p> + +<p>“Noisette!” she called, shrilly.</p> + +<p>A young girl, a pale-faced, dark-eyed girl, seated at a +window in the tiny room, busily engaged in painting upon +a piece of amber satin, laid down her brush, and turned +swiftly.</p> + +<p>“Do you want me, Miss Rosamond?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Do I want you? Humph! Of course I would be sure +to call you if I did <i>not</i> want you! That goes without saying! +Have you finished the last panel of the amber satin?”</p> + +<p>“Not quite.” The girl’s voice was slow and hesitating. +“My heart hurts me so this morning that I could not work +quite so fast as usual, and so—”</p> + +<p>“Bring it here to me!”</p> + +<p>The voice was low and ominous; Rosamond Raleigh was +trembling with rage. Slowly Noisette obeyed the command, +and entered the outer apartment, in one small, +shapely hand the amber satin panel, exquisitely painted +with bunches of scarlet poppies, and long, clinging tendrils +of pale-green leaves. It was the work of a true artist, and +Rosamond Raleigh knew it—knew that her hand-painted +fans and costly bits of silk and satin were the envy of half +her set. And she realized perfectly that she was getting +all this exquisite work done for such a mere nothing—the +poor girl was a dependent upon the Raleighs—that it was +a positive sin.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span></p> + +<p>One glance at the girl’s pale face and heavy, red-rimmed +eyes, but not a tinge of pity stirred Miss Raleigh’s cold +heart. The heart of a fashionable woman, immersed in +dress and society, is colder and harder than stone.</p> + +<p>“Not done yet,” in a cutting voice, “and the reception +at Senator Van Alstyne’s to come off to-morrow night, and +I must have that dress to wear. I will have it; do you +hear me? That painting must be done, though it kills you +to do it.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Rosamond, I will try.”</p> + +<p>The girl’s voice was very faint, and trembled perceptibly.</p> + +<p>“But my heart hurts me awfully,” she continued, “and +sometimes I am obliged to stop and rest; and it is so difficult +to breathe. Everything seems to get dark before me, +and I feel afraid. And besides,” hesitatingly, “the odor +of the paints is disagreeable.”</p> + +<p>“Well, have you finished your complaints?” sneered +Miss Raleigh, pitilessly. “Because if you have I would be +pleased to see you go to work. I think I have done enough +for you in taking you out of the orphan asylum and giving +you a good home. But you are getting so lazy that you do +not earn your salt. Go back to the sewing-room at once, +and have that panel finished before three o’clock, or”—she +drew her breath with a little hiss, her blue eyes glaring +angrily into the girl’s white, pain-distorted face—“it will +be bad for you, my lady,” she added, sharply.</p> + +<p>Noisette bent her head slightly, and, taking the panel, +returned to the room that she had left, closing its door behind +her. Her face was white and rigid, and one hand +clutched at her heart as though in pain.</p> + +<p>“Heaven help me!” murmured the poor girl, under her +breath. “I am dying, and she knows it. Ah, better for +me if she had left me in the asylum. At least they have +some mercy there.”</p> + +<p>She sunk into the low seat at the window and took the +brush in her cold, clammy hand.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span></p> + +<p>“God pity the orphan!” she murmured, feebly.</p> + +<p>The brush began to move slowly, uncertainly over the +glinting, amber satin; at length it fell upon the dainty +fabric, leaving a big red stain. It looked like heart’s blood.</p> + +<p>The girl started up as though some one had struck her +a blow; her head fell forward. A sensation stole over her +like floating dreamily through space. The pale lips parted, +and one word escaped them:</p> + +<p>“Mother!”</p> + +<p>That was all.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“Rosamond! Come here, quick! Oh, God, have mercy +upon us!”</p> + +<p>Rosamond Raleigh heard her mother’s voice in tones of +wildest excitement and alarm an hour or two later, and +arising from the satin couch, where she had been reading a +French novel, she hastened to the octagonal room whence +the sound proceeded.</p> + +<p>Her mother was standing beside the marble table, upon +which the painting materials were scattered, and Noisette’s +head had fallen forward and rested against the marble top +of the table. But the first object that caught Rosamond’s +eye as she entered the room was the spot of fresh paint +upon the amber satin panel.</p> + +<p>She caught her breath with a gasp of rage.</p> + +<p>“You have ruined my dress!” she shrieked, rushing to +the side of the poor girl, and seizing her rudely by the +shoulder; “you have literally ruined it! But you shall +pay for it! I swear it! I will make you suffer for this! +Mamma!”—falling back with a terrified cry—“what is the +matter?”</p> + +<p>Noisette’s head had fallen limply to one side, as the rude +fingers closed down upon the thin shoulders in that cruel +grip; her eyes were half open, set, staring and glassy; her +lips were parted, showing the white teeth with a ghastly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span> +expression. Noisette was dead! Heart disease had stricken +her down while at her work.</p> + +<p>The orphan girl’s troubles were ended. She had died +at her post, engaged in a thankless task.</p> + +<p>For just a moment the hard heart of Rosamond Raleigh +quailed; she sunk into a seat and covered her face with +her hands.</p> + +<p>“Mamma!” glancing up at last, “is she really dead? +Is there no hope—no mistake? Why, this is awful! And +it will get into the newspapers. I wouldn’t have Jack +Lyndon get hold of the affair, not for a fortune! I’m +more than half afraid of his sharp tongue and sharper pen. +Can we do nothing?” arising, and, with evident repugnance, +approaching the still figure in the chair.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh shook her head. She had seen Death in +too many forms not to know his dread presence beyond a +doubt.</p> + +<p>“She has been dead an hour, I should think,” Mrs. +Raleigh observed; “but for form’s sake I will send for a +physician. And then—oh, dear!—there will be a coroner’s +inquest, and—”</p> + +<p>“Never! Not in this house! Mamma, just think of +the publicity! We must manage to avoid it in some way.”</p> + +<p>And they did. In their high position, and with plenty +of money at their command—alas! what will not money +do?—all was speedily arranged. The body of the girl was +arrayed for its last resting-place, and borne into an unused +room, where it was placed in a plain coffin, to be +buried quietly away in the nearest cemetery early in the +morning.</p> + +<p>The arrangements all concluded, Mrs. Raleigh locked +the door of the room where the dead girl lay sleeping so +peacefully, and turned to go back to the drawing-room. +But at that very moment the door-bell rang, there was a +brief pause in the spacious entrance-hall, then the sweeping +of silken skirts coming to the wing of the house where<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span> +the dead girl lay. Mrs. Raleigh started nervously. A +moment later she was face to face with Lenore Van Alstyne. +Tall and slender, with great, melancholy dark eyes, +and a face of marble pallor, she was very beautiful, and—you +could read it at a glance—a woman who would die for +pride’s sake. Mrs. Raleigh could not control her surprise +at sight of her niece.</p> + +<p>“I heard that Noisette was dead,” began Lenore at +once; “so I drove around to see if I can do anything. +Let me see her, Aunt Helen.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear, it is not a pleasant sight. I—”</p> + +<p>Lenore’s haughty lip curled.</p> + +<p>“Death is seldom a pleasant sight, Aunt Helen!” she +returned, coldly. “I have always liked the girl; she was +very unassuming, and certainly industrious. Let me go +in, Aunt Helen. See, I have brought her some flowers—her +favorite lilies.”</p> + +<p>So, though much against her will, Mrs. Raleigh unlocked +the door, and they entered the chamber of death, +followed shortly by Rosamond.</p> + +<p>Lenore laid her lilies upon the open coffin, and then, +moved by a sudden impulse, sunk down upon her knees +beside the dead girl. Silence fell over all, and the moments +passed, and still she knelt there. Mrs. Raleigh +turned to her daughter.</p> + +<p>“Rosamond, this is no place for you,” she began in a +stage whisper; but she stopped short in unfeigned surprise +at sight of the look upon Rosamond’s face.</p> + +<p>“Mamma,” drawing her mother aside and speaking in +an almost inaudible tone, lest their visitor should hear, +“look! Did you ever see a more perfect resemblance +than those two faces? In life we never observed it, but +death brings the truth startlingly forward. Noisette is +the very image of Lenore!”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! What absurdity, child! It is only one of +those accidental resemblances which one stumbles across<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span> +very often. Ah! there; she is going at last, thank Heaven! +I shall never feel comfortable until that body is out +of the house,” she added, plaintively.</p> + +<p>The body was out of the house early the next morning, +buried away with scant ceremony, and soon forgotten.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh sat in her dainty boudoir a few days later. +The reception at Senator Van Alstyne’s was a thing of the +past, but Rosamond had been conspicuous by her absence.</p> + +<p>“If I can not wear the amber satin I will not go at +all,” the willful beauty had declared with an emphatic +stamp of a small foot in a dainty bronze slipper; “but I +shall make capital out of this horrid affair. Our set shall +believe that I remained at home out of respect for my +protégée’s memory, and not because I was disappointed in +my dress. And I must find another girl in Noisette’s +place—I believe I will advertise for a companion.”</p> + +<p>And so she did—and fate decreed that this advertisement +should attract poor Lillian Leigh’s notice, and she +resolved to apply for the position. So Mrs. Raleigh, upon +this particular morning of which I write, was interviewing +Lillian, who had ventured to call at the Raleigh mansion +in response to the advertisement. A slender, black-robed +figure, she looked like a mere child as she told her pitiful +story.</p> + +<p>“I want employment, madame,” she said, lifting her +great, sad brown eyes to the cold, high-bred face before +her. “The old work—type-writing—has failed me; and +besides, I prefer to leave my present home. I can not +endure to remain among the old familiar scenes. I wish +to lead a retired life, and yet I have my own living to +make.”</p> + +<p>A cold, critical glance swept the black-robed figure from +head to foot, then Mrs. Raleigh’s slow, languid voice observed:</p> + +<p>“You may make a trial of us, if you like. Of course<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span> +we can not pay much to a novice, but after a time you +will receive a good salary.”</p> + +<p>So the arrangements were speedily completed, and for a +pitifully small sum Lillian Leigh agreed to act as “companion” +to Miss Rosamond Raleigh, little dreaming of +what lay before her, and that fate was leading her blindly +on. Coming down the broad staircase, the first evening of +her life at the Raleigh mansion, Lillian came suddenly face +to face with a tall, dark, brigandish-looking man who had +just entered the house. One glance, and he fell back, +clutching wildly at a carved Gothic chair which stood +near, his dark face grown pale as death.</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” he gasped. “Surely you are Gilbert +Leigh’s daughter?”</p> + +<p>She bowed coldly.</p> + +<p>“I am Gilbert Leigh’s daughter!” she returned, in a +dignified manner.</p> + +<p>He glanced furtively about him. There was no one in +the hall—no one within hearing, apparently. He caught +her hand with a hasty gesture.</p> + +<p>“I must know you better, Miss Leigh,” he said, swiftly, +his evil eye studying every feature of the pale, indignant +face. “I am Richard Raleigh, only son and heir of +the Raleighs,” he added, with a smile.</p> + +<p>As he spoke he drew his handkerchief from his pocket, +and a card fluttered with it to the floor. Lillian stooped +and picked it up. It was a small photograph, and—could +it be possible?—it was a photograph of her own face! +Trembling like a leaf, she flashed indignantly upon him.</p> + +<p>“How dare you!” she was beginning, wildly; but, +checking her agitation, she went on, swiftly: “Mr. Raleigh, +where did you obtain this photograph? I must +know! It is one that my father carried in his pocket. +There can be no mistake. See, here are his initials, +‘G. L.,’ on the back of the card. Mr. Richard Raleigh, +I demand an answer. Where did you get this picture?”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">HAUNTED.</p> + + +<p>For just a moment Richard Raleigh quailed like a +craven form before the angry blast in those fearless dark +eyes.</p> + +<p>“My dear young lady, you must be mad!” he cried, +mockingly. “Ah, yes; it is one that I picked up down-town +in the office of the ‘Thunderer.’ Jack Lyndon, +one of the staff, had it. Seems that he was present when +your father’s body was found; the photograph fell from +his pocket, and Lyndon picked it up. I saw it, fell in +love with it, begged Jack to relinquish it, which he did; +and so I have it. Are you satisfied, Miss Leigh?”</p> + +<p>She was trembling like a reed in the wind, her brown +eyes flashing like fire at the insulting narrative.</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe a word of it,” she pouted at last. +“Mr. Lyndon is a gentleman—a true, noble-hearted, honorable +gentleman! He was my best friend when papa died—was +murdered,” she added, bleakly. “Mr. Raleigh, I +don’t care what you say; you shall not slander Mr. Jack +Lyndon in my presence. He is the noblest man whom I +have ever met.”</p> + +<p>“I thank you.”</p> + +<p>The girl turned swiftly about; she had not heard the +street door open. A tall form stood at her side; a pair of +grave, kindly eyes gazed into the girl’s excited face, as, +hat in hand, Jack Lyndon bowed low before Miss Raleigh’s +companion, waiting-maid, and general factotum.</p> + +<p>“God bless you for your championship,” he added, +softly. An angry light overspread Richard Raleigh’s face, +but he bowed with tolerable civility as his eyes met Jack +Lyndon’s.</p> + +<p>“Ah, good-evening, Lyndon,” he sneered. “May I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span> +inquire the nature of the business which has conferred +upon the house of Raleigh the honor of your presence?”</p> + +<p>Jack’s handsome face flushed.</p> + +<p>“A note of invitation from Miss Rosamond Raleigh +brings me here,” he said, coldly. “It is a matter of +small importance to me whether I call or not, Mr. Raleigh, +but a lady’s written request is not to be neglected.”</p> + +<p>Lillian had slipped the photograph of her own face into +her pocket, and glided away to finish the errand which had +brought her thither. A little later, passing through the +great hall once more, on her way upstairs, she caught a +glimpse of a pretty little tableau: Rosamond Raleigh, in +the music-room, seated at the grand piano, attired in an +artistic robe of white surah, with pink roses at her throat +and one half-open bud nestling in her dyed, blonde hair. +She was most artistically got up, and as the small, jeweled +hands swept the white keys, the big blue eyes were lifted, +with a sweet, childish expression, to the grave, handsome +face of Jack Lyndon, as he stood beside the instrument. +What was Rosamond’s object in inviting him there? he +asked himself again and again. He was only a poor journalist; +rapidly rising in his profession, it is true, but not +worthy to compare, in point of wealth and position, with +the daughter of Grafton Raleigh the millionaire. And it +never once occurred to Jack that the proud, haughty society +woman might have found a heart beating under her +silken bodice, even as Undine found her soul.</p> + +<p>Lillian, passing through the hall, saw the couple at the +piano, for the door was open, and a strange pang shot +through her heart as she passed hastily upstairs to attend +to her duties. There were guests invited to the Raleigh +mansion that night, and Jack had found himself included +in the invitations, while, much to his surprise, the tiny +scented note contained a P.S., carefully underscored:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“Please come very early. Say at eight.”</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span></p> + +<p>And, wondering greatly, he had obeyed her.</p> + +<p>He found Miss Raleigh awaiting him.</p> + +<p>“Senator and Mrs. Van Alstyne will look in at our reception +to-night,” she announced. “You know that +Mrs. Van Alstyne is my cousin? I thought that you +might like to describe her costume when you write up our +reception for to-morrow’s paper,” with a little laugh.</p> + +<p>Jack bowed and smiled his thanks, and then the door-bell +rang, and the first arrival was announced.</p> + +<p>Who that saw Lenore Van Alstyne that night will ever +forget her? She wore a trailing robe of shimmering pink +satin, with a V-shaped corsage draped with costly white +lace and a great cluster of snow-white marguerites. Not +a jewel did she wear, not even a flower in the massive coils +of silky dark hair. She was adorned by her own stately +beauty and gracious sweetness—jewels which no money +can purchase.</p> + +<p>It was a grand affair, though only a small party, for +Rosamond disliked a crowd. The evening wore away—that +evening during which Miss Raleigh devoted herself to +the entertainment of Jack Lyndon as sedulously as, in her +character of hostess, she dare venture.</p> + +<p>Late in the evening Rosamond went upstairs to the +pretty octagonal room which adjoined her own chamber to +get a small painting which Jack Lyndon had expressed a +desire to see and with which she would not trust a servant. +She was smiling softly to herself as she ran lightly +up the stairs and laid her hand upon the silver door-knob +of the little room where poor Noisette had passed so many +lonely hours, and—yes, where she had died.</p> + +<p>A strange chill crept over Rosamond Raleigh’s heart at +the recollection, and the smile faded from her lips.</p> + +<p>The door swung slowly open, and she crossed the threshold. +She started back with a low, frightened cry. Some +one had extinguished the gas; but the moonlight streaming +in at the window, whose shade was not yet drawn, revealed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span> +the interior of the pretty room, and rested in a +pearly pathway of light upon the figure seated at the +window—the childish little figure, with a pathetic droop +to the small head, bent, as usual, over the painting +materials. An awful horror crept over the fashionable +beauty as she stood there.</p> + +<p>How still everything was! The room was too far removed +from the drawing-rooms below for any sound of +mirth and revelry to reach it. Sometimes a quivering, +wailing burst of music, sobbing itself into silence, floated +up the staircase, and made a ghostly echo in the room, +where—She glanced once more toward that pathetic little +figure bending over the painting, and Rosamond realized, +with a shiver of horror, that it was no living creature +upon which she gazed. An inarticulate cry passed +her lips, as she ventured a little nearer. Was it Noisette’s +spirit which sat there in the moonlight, working out +the hard task? Rosamond saw that the shadowy fingers +which grasped the brush were painting away at the amber +satin panel. Painting—painting! but never to finish. +The strokes of the brush up and down left no trace; the +panel was just as Noisette had left it when death had +called her, when the brush had fallen from her nerveless +grasp, leaving the big red stain that looked like heart’s +blood. Trembling, gasping for breath, Miss Raleigh +turned and fled from the haunted room. She was no +weak-minded, hysterical girl, to go in nervous spasms over +a sight which she well knew she could never convince the +world that she had witnessed. She fled precipitately, +however, nor paused to take breath until she found herself +down in the brilliantly lighted drawing-room once more, +and explaining, in a breathless, laughing, altogether +charming fashion, that the picture must be mislaid, for +certainly it was not to be found. And no one but her +mother observed the set expression that had dawned upon +her face, and the look of nameless terror in her eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span></p> + +<p>“Miss Rosamond!”</p> + +<p>She glanced up with a start, to see a tall, liveried footman +standing at her side.</p> + +<p>“I don’t like to trouble you,” he went on, hesitatingly, +“but it’s an old woman who will not be denied. She is +down in the housekeeper’s room, and if you wouldn’t +mind seeing her a moment, Miss Rosamond—”</p> + +<p>With a haughty gesture, Rosamond waved him aside. +A little later she was standing in the housekeeper’s cozy +sitting-room, before a snowy-haired, wrinkled old woman +with mild black eyes. She was bent nearly double over +the heavy oaken staff which she clutched with two skinny +hands; but at sound of the opening door, and the swish! +swish! of silken drapery, she lifted her head, and her bold, +black eyes met the glance of interrogation in Miss Raleigh’s +cold blue orbs.</p> + +<p>“What do you want?” she demanded, sharply.</p> + +<p>The old crone bowed humbly.</p> + +<p>“I am told that you have guests here to-night, Miss +Raleigh,” she began, in a low tone. “I am a dabbler in +the occult and mysterious—I am a clairvoyant. I can +read the future, unmask the present, and,” with an upward +glance of her great black eyes, “expose the secrets +of the past. Don’t look so incredulous, lady—I can do +it!”</p> + +<p>“What do you want?” demanded Rosamond, haughtily.</p> + +<p>“Permission to exhibit my strange powers before your +guests,” returned the woman, promptly. “I am very +old, and it is my only means of earning a livelihood. Let +me go into your drawing-room, and I promise to surprise +and astound you. Stay a moment, lady. Is there any +one present whom you dislike—whom you hate?”</p> + +<p>Rosamond’s eyes glittered.</p> + +<p>“There is. Ah, if you could unmask her, if you could +show me her past and expose her secret, so carefully +guarded, I would make you rich for life!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span></p> + +<p>The old woman bent her head, and her lips moved as +though speaking, yet she uttered no word.</p> + +<p>“Come!” said Rosamond, moved by a sudden impulse. +“I will give you permission to exhibit your powers. But +if there is any villainy hidden under it all, if you have a +sinister object in coming here to-night, I will have you +punished to the full extent of the law.”</p> + +<p>The old woman’s eyes twinkled.</p> + +<p>“Trust me, lady. You will never regret it,” she returned. +Low under her breath she was muttering to herself +in a broken, disjointed way, as she followed Miss Raleigh +to the drawing-room:</p> + +<p>“At last! At last! The hour for which I have longed +is here! Oh, to see her once again—to—”</p> + +<p>They had reached the drawing-room door. A few +words of explanation, and all the company gathered in +eager excitement about the old woman, who had sunk into +a low seat and sat as still as a statue. At last:</p> + +<p>“Murdered!” she cried, in a shrill voice, which penetrated +to every corner. “Murdered! Poor Gilbert Leigh! +My friends, the guilty wretch who took that old man’s +life is present within this very room.”</p> + +<p>There was a stifled shriek, followed by a heavy fall; the +gas-lights had gone out suddenly, leaving the great room +in darkness, and an awful silence settled over the scene.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">APRES!</p> + +<p>Some one lighted the gas in a moment, and its yellow +rays revealed a pale-faced, terrified group. Lillian, who +had been sent to bring Mrs. Raleigh a fan, was standing +in the open door of the library, pale as marble, one hand +clutching the white satin fan with its delicate spray of wild +roses, the handiwork of the girl who had gone to her long +rest such a short time before; the other hand, cold and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span> +trembling, pressed tightly over her wildly throbbing heart; +her big, dark eyes, dilated with horror, fixed blankly before +her. Richard Raleigh crouched in a corner, glaring +about him like a wild beast suddenly brought to bay, and +prone upon the velvet-carpeted floor Lenore Van Alstyne +lay in a dead swoon, and the old woman—fortune-teller +or whatever she might be—had disappeared.</p> + +<p>For a few moments everybody stood staring helplessly +about them, too overcome by the shock of the surprise—the +audacity of the affair—to collect their scattered +faculties.</p> + +<p>With a muttered execration, Richard Raleigh strode +over to the door and caught Lillian by the arm.</p> + +<p>“You are responsible for all this jugglery!” he hissed, +his angry black eyes devouring the pale face of the shrinking +girl. “You are to blame, Lillian Leigh, and rest assured +that you shall suffer for it!”</p> + +<p>The stately little head was crested proudly, and the +dark, flashing eyes gave him back scorn for scorn.</p> + +<p>“Take your hand from my arm, Mr. Raleigh!” the +low, level voice commanded, calmly. “How dare you +touch me? And as for your insulting words, you shall answer +for them! My father—”</p> + +<p>Good heavens! what had she been about to say? It +came home to her, with a sharp, keen pang of bitter memory, +that she who had never before been separated from +her father, her protector and defender, was all alone. +She had no father now—never any more! She had been +so accustomed to look to him for help, for love, for protection, +that for a brief moment she had lost sight of the +cruel truth. Her heart turned to her father as the sunflower +turns to the sun—and—she had no father now! +With one swift, lightning stroke of memory the poor girl +came back to the consciousness of her loss—that bitter, +irretrievable loss—and she saw the blank, empty future +stretched out before her eyes—without her father! Ah!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span> +cruel, cruel fate! To be bereft of his tender care—his +loving words of counsel—his kindly guidance!</p> + +<p>For just a moment the orphan girl forgot even Richard +Raleigh’s dreaded presence, as the full knowledge of her +desolation rushed over her heart like a swirling flood. +But still Richard Raleigh gazed with bold eyes into her +face, and still the stern, dark hand, crowned with a glittering +diamond, clutched the girl’s white arm.</p> + +<p>“Let go my arm, sir!” she commanded once more, in +a low, scornful tone. “How dare you insult me?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raleigh will be good enough to obey this lady’s +command!” said a cool, low voice close by, and Lillian, +turning swiftly, saw Jack Lyndon at her side. Not another +word; but Raleigh’s grasp relaxed, and he loosened +his hold; then, with a sneer, he turned upon his heel and +left the room.</p> + +<p>There was a great deal of excitement over Lenore, and, +therefore, this scene had been almost unobserved. Senator +Van Alstyne bustled forward, and lifting his wife’s +graceful form as though she had been an infant, placed +her carefully upon a sofa, while a group of pale, excited +people gathered around, and restoratives were brought. +But one pair of eyes had watched the scene between Lillian +and Jack Lyndon—one pair of steely orbs, glinting now +with anger too deep for words—and a white-robed figure, +which hovered ever in the vicinity of Jack Lyndon, was +trembling with excitement and jealous wrath.</p> + +<p>“I will send that girl away to-morrow as surely as I +live,” muttered Rosamond, low under her breath. “I +will not be tormented by the sight of her any longer. +And yet,” with a strange sinking of the heart, or “the +muscular viscus” which did duty for that organ with Miss +Rosamond Raleigh—“it would be just my luck to have +Jack Lyndon fall desperately in love with her and marry +her if I were to send her away—cast her adrift without a +home. Oh, dear! was any woman ever so tormented before?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span> +First, I must lose my waiting-maid—ugh! I can’t +get Noisette out of my mind!—and now Lillian gives me +trouble. First one maid and then the other. One thing +certain, and upon that point I shall be adamant hereafter: +Lillian Leigh shall not be allowed to show herself among +my guests. What evil genius sent her here at this particular +juncture? Oh, yes!” catching sight of the white +satin toy in the girl’s trembling hand, “mamma’s fan! +It is the very last fan that Noisette painted. Ugh! +there it is again. I can not forget for a moment. And +now I think that Mr. Lyndon has had quite enough to say +to my servant. I intend to put a stop to it.”</p> + +<p>She glided swiftly over to the retired corner near the +door where Lillian stood, while Jack Lyndon bent his +handsome head and spoke in low, eager tones. He was +learning the reason for her sudden and unexpected appearance +at the Raleigh mansion.</p> + +<p>“It is no place for you, Miss Leigh,” he said, gravely; +“we must try to find you more suitable employment; and—and +(pardon me, but I can not refrain from a few words +of warning) it is better for you not to remain longer under +the same roof with—”</p> + +<p>“Lillian!” Miss Raleigh’s sharp, cutting voice broke in +upon his low-spoken words with a suddenness that made +her start. “What are you doing here? Don’t you see +that mamma is suffering—absolutely suffering—for a fan? +Go give it to her; and then,” in a low tone, “go up to +my room and stay there!”</p> + +<p>Lillian bowed. Well, of course Miss Raleigh was right. +It was not Lillian’s place to stand among Miss Raleigh’s +select and fashionable guests; she—a hired companion—waiting-maid—upper +servant!</p> + +<p>With a grateful “I thank you for your kindness, Mr. +Lyndon,” Lillian glided away, leaving Rosamond, nothing +loath, to take the place at Jack Lyndon’s side which +she had just vacated.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span></p> + +<p>“How annoying and unpleasant it is, Mr. Lyndon, to +be troubled with servants who are above their stations, and +who, in common parlance, ‘have seen better days.’ Now +that girl really knows nothing of the duties and proprieties +of her position here; and I want to be kind and gentle +with her, yet I must be firm, and I fear that I have a disagreeable +task before me. For it is so difficult to train +such people without wounding their sensibilities; and when +they once imagine themselves slighted or insulted, there is +no hope of doing anything with them. And so,” with a +pretty deprecatory gesture of the small gloved hands, +“you see how it is.”</p> + +<p>It was a slightly ambiguous speech, but it had its own +effect. Jack’s conscience gave a queer little twinge of remorse.</p> + +<p>He had been too hard in thought upon Miss Raleigh—too +hard and stern, after all. She meant well—she did the +best that she knew. And hers had been but a superficial +and artificial education, a life without aim or object, an +empty fashionable career, with only the false lights of +pleasure and worldly amusements to lure her on.</p> + +<p>How vapid and unsatisfying it must be. And he little +dreamed—this grave young knight of the quill—that that +same life of fashionable dissipation was Rosamond Raleigh’s +highest ideal, filled every vacant corner of her +heart, was, in fact, the only existence for which she cared, +or which it was possible for her to know and be content. +His grave eyes met her appealing glance kindly, and his +voice took on a gentler tone as he returned:</p> + +<p>“You have my sympathy in your grievous trials, my +dear Miss Raleigh!”</p> + +<p>A low cry resounded through the room and startled the +two. Lenore had opened her eyes and returned to consciousness. +She was struggling and panting and gasping +for breath, her eyes—beautiful dreamy dark eyes—were +dilated with horror; the small, cold hands were tearing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span> +wildly at the frosty white lace upon her breast, and she +looked like one distraught.</p> + +<p>“Take me away! take me away!” she panted, feebly. +“Oh, Van!” burying her pale face upon the black coat-sleeve +of the pompous senator—“has—has he gone?”</p> + +<p>Van Alstyne bent his head and gazed into his wife’s +frightened face with eyes full of undisguised wonder. He +was coarse and red faced and hard featured, with small, +ferret-like eyes and iron-gray hair and beard.</p> + +<p>“Lenore!” in a deprecatory tone, “whom do you +mean, dear? Don’t you remember you were frightened +by an old woman—witch—beldame—whom your cousin +Rosamond saw fit to introduce among her select guests. +By Jove!” with a fierce assumption of dignity, “it has +come to a pretty pass indeed if a man is compelled to meet +such trash at the very first houses! Lenore, try to be +calm. There is nothing to fear, you have had a fright—a +foolish fright—followed by a fainting fit, which latter I +must say does not surprise me. My dear, I never knew +you to faint before but once,” he added, briefly, with a +significant glance which brought the red blood to her pale +cheek.</p> + +<p>Ah, yes! she remembered that other swoon. Heaven +knows she had reason to remember it. It had occurred at +her own marriage. In memory she saw it all—went +through the same scene once more. The brilliantly lighted +church; the gay, glittering crowd; the bridal procession, +with the bride, whiter than death itself, leaning upon +the arm of the pompous bridegroom, while they made their +triumphal exit from the sacred edifice, out to the long line +of waiting carriages drawn up beside the curb; the crowd +in the street without surging, swaying to and fro; and +above all others one face—a face which appeared amid the +throng, gazing upon her with great dark eyes full of mute +reproach. One swift instant their eyes had met, and like +one suddenly stricken dead, the bride fell to the pavement.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span></p> + +<p>It all came back to her now in a swift, hurried flash; +then there was a sudden transformation scene. Lenore +Van Alstyne started to her feet. She looked like a galvanized +corpse, but the pale lips shut themselves down +closely, and the white hands clinched and unclinched each +other fiercely; and then a light silvery laugh rang out, and +she turned to the watching, lynx-eyed man at her side.</p> + +<p>“Come, let us dance! Rosamond said that we should +have the lancers, and now is as good a time as any. Waltz, +did you say, Captain Burnham?” as a tall, soldierly man +bowed before her with a few low, eager words. “Ah, +pray excuse me from that. I am not very strong. My +foolish nerves have played me a sad trick, and I do not +feel equal to a waltz. But the lancers—I shall be delighted. +Rosamond, <i>ma cousine</i>, where is the music?” turning +as she spoke with a light laugh to meet Rosamond’s +astonished gaze, as she still conversed with Jack Lyndon.</p> + +<p>“Surely you are not able to dance, Lenore,” she was +beginning; but Mrs. Van Alstyne cut the remonstrance +short.</p> + +<p>“Nonsense!” she cried, lightly.</p> + +<p>And then Jack Lyndon found himself offering his arm +to Miss Raleigh, and the business of dancing the lancers +was begun.</p> + +<p>But everything comes to an end sooner or later, and at +last the reception was over; and Jack Lyndon, feeling +very much as though he were awaking from an unusually +fanciful dream, found himself on his way home, holding +in his memory the half-whispered words of the heiress, +Miss Raleigh:</p> + +<p>“Don’t forget the opera to-morrow night! Call early, +Jack—I beg your pardon—Mr. Lyndon,” a swift crimson +tingeing her cheek.</p> + +<p>After which he could not fail to catch a glimmer of the +light of truth, and open his sleepy eyes to the suspicion<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span> +that the cold, statuesque Miss Raleigh was really becoming +interested in the poor journalist.</p> + +<p>“Poor little Lillian!” was all that he said—and that +certainly seems a strange remark to make, when we consider +that Miss Raleigh was the object of his thoughts.</p> + +<p>And at that very hour, in the Van Alstynes’ spacious +mansion, Lenore was pacing up and down her own room, +its door securely locked against intruders, her face pale as +marble, all assumed gayety vanished, one hand clutching +at her heart, as she murmured, brokenly:</p> + +<p>“It must be—it must be true. It was his voice—I +would know it anywhere. Oh! may Heaven have pity +and let me die, for I am the most miserable woman in the +whole world!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">JACK STRIKES A BLOW.</p> + + +<p>“Well! Miss Lillian Leigh!”</p> + +<p>Lillian glanced up with a start at sound of that voice—or +was it the hiss of a serpent?—and her pale face flushed +a little as she arose to her feet. It was in Miss Raleigh’s +sleeping-room, and she had been dreaming over the fire, +awaiting the coming of her tyrannical task-mistress, and +while she sat there these thoughts had been flitting +through her brain:</p> + +<p>“I wonder what was the matter to-night? Just as I +was about to open the library door, when I went to carry +Mrs. Raleigh’s fan, it opened suddenly from within, and a +strange, weird-looking old woman rushed out, flew down +the hall, and was out of the front door and gone before I +could recover my breath. And there were the library +lights all extinguished; and Mrs. Van Alstyne—that pale, +proud-looking lady—had fainted dead away. And Miss +Raleigh looked so overcome with terror! It must have +been some very unusual excitement; but, of course, I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span> +dared ask no questions, and it is no concern of mine. I +am afraid of Mr. Richard Raleigh,” she went on, after a +brief pause, her busy brain full of the late strange occurrences, +“and but for Mr. Lyndon he might have said +more. I must avoid Mr. Raleigh as much as possible. +How good Mr. Lyndon is—so noble, so kind! I wonder—I +wonder if he cares for Miss Rosamond? And how she +smiles upon him! I should think that—”</p> + +<p>And then that shrill, high-pitched voice had broken in +upon the girl’s reverie, calling her name in a tone of authority.</p> + +<p>“Get up, you lazy creature! Why have you not a chair +before the fire all ready for me when I come in, as—as my +other maid used to do? Here, I enter my room tired to +death, and the hour late, and I find my maid—my—maid,” +with inexpressible scorn in the cutting voice, +“seated before my fire without a thought of my comfort. +How dare you?”</p> + +<p>Lillian stood still, quite overcome by this tirade; then +she made haste to wheel the chair which she had just +vacated closer to the fire.</p> + +<p>“I—I beg you pardon, Miss Raleigh,” she said, quietly. +“I did not mean to do anything wrong. I am tired, and +as you told me to wait for you, I naturally sat before the +fire this cold night.”</p> + +<p>With awful dignity Miss Raleigh motioned the chair +aside.</p> + +<p>“Get me another!” she commanded, insolently. “I +do not care for a seat which my servant occupies.”</p> + +<p>The red blood crimsoned Lillian’s pale face, and her +beautiful brown eyes flashed. But she compressed her lips +firmly, and brought another chair, into which Miss Raleigh +sunk with an air of intense fatigue.</p> + +<p>“I am tired to death!” she exclaimed, savagely. +“Come and take my hair down, and brush it thoroughly.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span> +I am accustomed to having it brushed every night for at +least an hour before I retire!”</p> + +<p>Poor Lillian glanced at the clock ticking away upon the +velvet-draped bracket near. The hands pointed to the +hour of two.</p> + +<p>Rosamond laughed disdainfully at sight of the consternation +upon Lillian’s face.</p> + +<p>“Oh! you will soon find that you must keep all sorts of +hours if you remain in my employ, Miss Lillian Leigh!” +she sneered, coarsely. “I always make my waiting-maid +earn her salary, you may well believe! Whoever fills that +position must earn the money, though the effort should +cost her her life. Ah! what is that?”</p> + +<p>The ivory-backed brush trembled in Lillian’s grasp as +she stood with uplifted hand, the rosy fire-light flashing +up painted a vivid red spot upon Rosamond Raleigh’s pale +cheek; then the flame sunk down into feathery ashes once +more. A sound had fallen upon their ears plainly, distinctly; +it was a low, hollow groan! Trembling like a leaf +Miss Raleigh started to her feet. Her long hair fell over +her shoulders in a streaming golden shower; she looked +unearthly in the loose white wrapper which she had +already donned. Pale, and shaking like an aspen, she +went over to the door of the little octagonal room, and +threw it open wide.</p> + +<p>“Lillian, come here!” she commanded; and slowly and +wonderingly Lillian obeyed. “Go into that room,” continued +Miss Raleigh, authoritatively, “and see if there is +anybody hidden there! Look behind the curtains and +furniture; leave nothing unsearched.”</p> + +<p>Wondering greatly, Lillian lighted a small bronze lamp +which stood upon a bracket, and slowly and hesitatingly +she entered the little room. She returned, after a brief +absence, very pale and grave.</p> + +<p>“There is no one there, Miss Raleigh,” she announced, +placing the lamp upon a marble table near.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span></p> + +<p>“Come with me!”</p> + +<p>Rosamond snatched up the lamp and forced her trembling +slave to follow her back into the little room once +more. Everything was just as it had been left that day +when they had carried something away from it—something +stark and stiff and white, something which would never +come back again—would never come back. Would it +not?</p> + +<p>Rosamond Raleigh’s memory was a good one; she shivered +involuntarily. With mad haste she explored every +corner of the room; peering behind furniture, lifting +silken curtains, leaving no chance for any human being to +remain concealed. Then she left the room and locked the +door behind her; after which she extinguished the lamp +and threw herself into the easy-chair once more.</p> + +<p>“Brush my hair!” she commanded, ungraciously. “I +am half dead with fatigue.”</p> + +<p>And there poor Lillian stood for a whole mortal hour, +brushing out the beauty’s shining, silken hair until her +brain reeled, and her cold hand shook so that she could +scarcely move the brush, and the white lids began to droop +over the weary eyes, while the cat-like orbs of her cruel +task-mistress seemed never to court slumber. At last, in +sheer exhaustion, Lillian came to a halt.</p> + +<p>“Miss Raleigh, excuse me to-night, will you not?” she +pleaded. “I am not accustomed to such late hours, and +I have been through a great deal to-day, and am so tired +that I can scarcely stand.”</p> + +<p>Rosamond snatched the brush from her hand and threw +it across the room in a childish outburst of temper.</p> + +<p>“Go!” she cried, stamping her foot savagely. “I see +plainly the sort of a maid you will make!”</p> + +<p>Pale and resolute, Lillian faced the woman before her.</p> + +<p>“Miss Raleigh, will you please bear in mind that I did +not apply for the position of waiting-maid? Your advertisement +said a companion; and I, of course, believed that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span> +my duties would be simply those of a companion—to read +to you, sew, sing and play if you desired it, write, go +errands—all such light duties. But to dress and undress +you, to keep the fire burning in your room indefinitely, +and to stand and brush your hair all night long, I must +confess my inability to cope with all that. I am young +and not very strong. I have never worked before in my +life—only a little type-writing, and my health would soon +break down under such endless work as this, which keeps +a girl employed all day and all night, too. Good-morning, +Miss Raleigh; the clock is about to strike three. I +beg leave to retire.”</p> + +<p>Rosamond gathered up her mass of shining hair and +secured it for the night.</p> + +<p>“Very well,” her steely eyes fixed upon the girl with +cold disdain, “we will speak further upon this subject in +the morning. After to-night I intend to have you sleep +in the little round room next to mine. I am lonely here +in the wing of the house away from every one else.”</p> + +<p>“Very well.”</p> + +<p>Lillian grew deathly pale. She had heard the story of +the round room hinted at by the servants, even during her +brief sojourn at the Raleigh mansion, and she was afraid—afraid. +For she was timid, and the whispers in the servants’ +quarters hinted at a dark deed.</p> + +<p>But, glad to escape from her task-mistress, she hastened +away to the little room which had been assigned her, at +the furthest end of the hall, and hastily retiring, the +friendless orphan girl was soon fast asleep. And in +dreams she was no longer poor, and alone, and forsaken; +but happy as mortals are never happy upon this earth—only +in dreams.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verse indent0">“Only in dreams is a ladder thrown</div> +<div class="verse indent3">From the lonely earth to the vaulted skies;</div> +<div class="verse indent1">But the dream departs, and the vision flies,</div> +<div class="verse indent3">And the sleeper awakes on his pillow of stone.”</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span></p> +<p>The next day passed quite uneventfully. Rosamond had +compromised with Lillian, retaining her as general factotum, +on condition that she should not be compulsively detained +from her rest after midnight. So night came down +once more, and Rosamond, in her sumptuous apartment, +was preparing to attend the opera.</p> + +<p>“I will wear blue silk and pearls!” she announced. +“Mamma and I are going to hear ‘Il Trovatore’ with +Mr. Lyndon. He is quite the fashion now, so I venture +to go with him, although of course he is not in our set, +and is only a poor journalist. And—oh, yes, Lillian, before +it gets too late, I want you to run down to the greenhouse—the +one away at the further end of the grounds—and +tell Barnes, the gardener, to send me a bouquet of +pink rosebuds. Make haste now, for I don’t like to be +kept waiting.”</p> + +<p>To hear was to obey. Lillian made haste to do so. +Five minutes later she was standing at the entrance to the +long greenhouse, dimly lighted by a hanging lamp, and +lying like a great dark shadow athwart the dusk of early +night. She peered eagerly through the gloom.</p> + +<p>“Barnes!” she called, timidly, “Miss Raleigh has sent +me to—”</p> + +<p>An arm stole around her waist, and a slim, dark hand +crowned by a flashing diamond closed down upon Lillian’s +hand, while Richard Raleigh’s silky voice cried:</p> + +<p>“Ah! my pretty wild bird—caged at last!”</p> + +<p>With a wild cry Lillian wrenched herself away from his +hold, her face pale, her eyes blazing.</p> + +<p>“How dare you?” she gasped, brokenly.</p> + +<p>And at that very instant her quick eyes caught sight of +a tall form hastening through the grounds, and she called, +wildly:</p> + +<p>“Barnes, is it you? Oh, come—quick—help!”</p> + +<p>With a muttered oath, Raleigh had grasped her arm<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span> +once more, and held her fast, trying to calm her wild outcries.</p> + +<p>The tall figure turned swiftly and hurried footsteps +reached her side. Not Barnes the gardener, but tall, +handsome Jack Lyndon, who had heard her frenzied cry, +and had come to the rescue.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raleigh, unhand that lady!” a low voice panted, +furiously, “or, by Heaven! you cowardly dog, I will kill +you!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">IN THE ROUND ROOM.</p> + + +<p>For a moment, awful silence, while the two men stood +glaring at each other with eyes full of hatred and defiance. +Richard Raleigh was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>“Ha! Our doughty friend of the ‘Thunderer!’ Sir +Knight of the Quill and Paste-pot, whose coat of arms is +two pens crossed upon a background of inky paper! Mr. +Jack Lyndon,” growing more and more furious, “you deserve +to be punished for this audacity, and taught to know +your place.”</p> + +<p>“I have a mind to horsewhip you as I would a vicious +dog!” stormed Jack, his tall form trembling with excitement, +his strong hands clinching and unclinching themselves, +as though longing to strike his opponent down at +his feet.</p> + +<p>“I never fight my inferiors!” snarled Raleigh, with cutting +sarcasm.</p> + +<p>“You have no inferiors outside the brute creation!” returned +Jack, with stinging contempt. “By Jove!” turning +with sudden energy, as Raleigh, impelled by devilish +malice, caught Lillian by the arm once more in a rude +grasp.</p> + +<p>There was silence for half a second, broken by the sound +of a heavy blow, followed by a sickening thud as Raleigh’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span> +tall form swayed heavily forward and fell into a clump of +shrubbery which grew near.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Lyndon!” Lillian’s voice pealed forth in wild +terror, “you have killed him!”</p> + +<p>Jack stooped over the prostrate form, his face pale and +still, in his handsome dark eyes a look that was bad to see.</p> + +<p>“No danger of that,” he muttered, angrily, for Jack +Lyndon’s temper, usually well under control, was now at +white heat. “Such creatures are not so easily exterminated. +Miss Leigh, I beg your pardon, but it was hardly +prudent for you to venture out here alone so late.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Raleigh sent me for a bouquet of pink rosebuds,” +she returned. “I never dreamed of meeting Mr. Raleigh!” +she added, innocently.</p> + +<p>Jack’s face darkened.</p> + +<p>“I should think not, indeed!” he panted. “Do not +trouble about the flowers, Miss Leigh. I have already sent +a bouquet to Miss Raleigh, which I imagine will prove satisfactory. +Come, let me accompany you back to the house. +That fellow yonder is recovering consciousness, and I do +not care to have any further argument with him.”</p> + +<p>Richard Raleigh, with slow and painful effort, was rising +to his feet. Jack drew Lillian’s trembling hand through +his arm and led her away. It was some distance back to +the house; and at length, in a secluded nook, where trailing +rose-vines, half denuded of their leaves, still clung to a +tiny summer-house, Jack Lyndon paused.</p> + +<p>“Lillian!”—in a tone of alarm—“Miss Leigh, you are +ill, fainting!” he exclaimed. “Oh, my darling—my +darling, let me stand between you and the storms of life! +You are too dainty and delicate to meet the adverse winds +of fate, and battle alone and single-handed. Let me—”</p> + +<p>“Lillian!”</p> + +<p>A shrill, high-pitched voice broke in upon his eager +words with cold disapproval.</p> + +<p>“Lillian Leigh! Good heavens! is it possible?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span></p> + +<p>And Miss Raleigh, with a white burnoose wrapped about +her, and the long silken train of her azure robe flung carefully +across her arm, appeared suddenly before them, like +Banquo’s ghost—and quite as unexpected.</p> + +<p>“Can it be possible”—in a grave, sweet, reproachful +tone, which no one knew better than Rosamond Raleigh +when and how to assume—“Lillian, whom I had believed +immaculate, flirting out under the trees this wintery night, +with—Why!”—with an affected start and a little shriek—“if +it isn’t Mr. Lyndon! Why, Mr. Lyndon, how you +startled me! I did not expect to find you here with my +maid!”</p> + +<p>There was a world of cruel significance in the sharp, cutting +voice, which made Jack Lyndon gnash his teeth.</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” he muttered under his breath, “a man has +to endure unlimited insults from a woman, simply because +she <i>is</i> a woman, when ten to one if they do not deserve—”</p> + +<p>Whatever it was which, according to Mr. Jack Lyndon, +the weaker sex deserved, was destined never to be known. +He had dropped Lillian’s hand, feeling the unpleasantness +of her position, and longing to spare her all that he could. +Pale and grave, he turned to Rosamond.</p> + +<p>“Miss Raleigh!”—in a low voice, his eyes upon the +pearl-powdered and daintily rouged face plainly revealed +by the moonlight—“I entered your grounds through the +side gate—the shorter way which you pointed out to me. +I was on my way to the house, and <i>you</i>, when I heard a +scream—a woman’s voice in wild alarm, calling for <i>help</i>! +I hastened to the spot and found Miss Leigh at the very +door of the greenhouse, in the grasp of a ruffian!”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Lyndon! Upon <i>our</i> grounds? Grafton Raleigh’s +private grounds?” in an awe-stricken tone.</p> + +<p>Jack smiled. “Even upon Mr. Grafton Raleigh’s +sacred premises, my dear Miss Rosamond, the glaring insult +was perpetrated. And the perpetrator was your own +brother, Richard Raleigh!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span></p> + +<p>“Mr. Lyndon!”</p> + +<p>“It is true, Miss Raleigh, I assure you. And—I must +confess—I was so angry that I—knocked him down!”</p> + +<p>“You did?” her eyes flashing wickedly. “Well, I am +sure that he deserved it! I have sometimes felt an insane +desire myself to knock Rick down! He is so exasperating! +But now you have done it for me!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no! I did it to rescue Miss Leigh—as her knight-errant! +And although I am sorry to be upon such terms +with <i>your</i> brother, Miss Raleigh, I could not stand quietly +by and see a lady insulted—above all things, the lady +who—”</p> + +<p>“Lillian, go into the house!” cut in Miss Raleigh, +sharply. “You need not be afraid to go alone! Have +my opera-cloak, fan and gloves all ready by the time I +reach the house. Mr. Lyndon, I have to thank you for +that exquisite bouquet!” she added, laying a white hand +upon his arm and lifting a radiant face to his. Impelled +by an irresistible impulse, Jack bent his head and kissed +the dainty fingers which rested upon his sleeve. A flush +of triumph shot through Rosamond’s cheek, her heart +leaped and bounded like a mad thing.</p> + +<p>“He cares for me! I verily believe it!” she whispered +to herself. “And I don’t see how he could help it! He +ought to be proud and elated at winning the favor of Grafton +Raleigh’s only daughter! As for that sly little minx, +Lillian Leigh, I will get rid of her before many days!”</p> + +<p>And then, leaning upon Jack Lyndon’s arm, she went +slowly back to the house where mamma, in lavender brocade +and diamonds, awaited her coming. If Jack had +hoped to catch a glimpse of Lillian, or to breathe a few +whispered words into her ear, he was grievously disappointed, +for he saw her no more.</p> + +<p>Upstairs in Miss Raleigh’s chamber Lillian heard the +sound of the carriage-wheels as the carriage drove away to +the opera.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span></p> + +<p>“Why am I so different from other girls?” she asked +herself; “I am young, well educated, not bad looking”—her +eyes wandered over to the great mirror which had +so often reflected Miss Raleigh’s features—“and I—I <i>do</i> +care for Mr. Lyndon. He is so noble and good; how could +any one help caring for him? And she,” with a sharp +sting of jealous pain stirring blindly in her heart, “<i>she</i> +likes him, I can see that, though he is poor and she the +daughter of a millionaire!”</p> + +<p>And then a pause of silence, after which Lillian started +to her feet with a little cry of remorse.</p> + +<p>“I am not pleasing papa,” she cried, her eyes full of +tears; “he would like me to keep up my studies, and I +have been neglectful. I will get my books and look over +my French and German. When Miss Raleigh comes I will +not be so tired.”</p> + +<p>When Miss Raleigh came the midnight chimes had long +been rung. She entered the room, her face full of displeasure. +Jack Lyndon had been all that a gentleman—an +admirer—should be that evening; but when he bade her +good-night he had asked permission to speak a few words +in private with Miss Leigh the next morning. “Something +of importance to communicate,” he had said. Rosamond +Raleigh marched straight to her own room and +opened its door. Trembling with wrath, she stalked into +her sleeping apartment.</p> + +<p>“Lillian Leigh”—her voice was loud and shrill—“your +conduct is disgraceful in the extreme! You have been the +occasion of an insult—a gross insult to my brother—<i>my</i> +brother; do you understand me? <i>You</i>, a common servant-girl! +I will have you punished as you deserve! I will disgrace +you—ruin you forever—so help me Heaven, I will!”</p> + +<p>“Miss Raleigh!”</p> + +<p>Lillian’s voice, cold and clear, broke in upon her mad +ravings.</p> + +<p>“I have done no wrong—no intentional harm! If your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span> +brother is not a gentleman, and forgets the respect due a +lady, I am not responsible. And Mr. Lyndon said—”</p> + +<p>“Don’t mention his name!” stormed Rosamond. +“He has been making light of you to me to-night—laughed +at you, made sport of you. He says that you +threw yourself in his way!”</p> + +<p>“Miss Raleigh, I do not believe you! I do not believe +a word that you say. Mr. Lyndon is a gentleman.”</p> + +<p>“You—don’t—believe me?” panted Rosamond—“don’t—believe +<i>me</i>? Take that—and that, you beggar!” +bringing her hand down with all its sharp, glittering rings +across Lillian’s pale cheeks in a shower of stinging blows. +“You shall go into the round room and sleep upon the +sofa!” raved Miss Raleigh. “To-morrow your bed shall +be brought there!”</p> + +<p>She unlocked the door of communication between the +two rooms, and dragging Lillian after her by the arm, too +overcome by the insults which had been heaped upon her +to utter a word, she entered the round room. Moonlight +streamed in at the window—or was it moonlight? No; +the shade was closely drawn; but a soft, clear radiance was +diffused through the room. And there, in its old place at +the window, sat a slight, drooping figure—a thin, attenuated +form—while the shadowy fingers were painting—painting +away at an amber satin panel—a task that was +never done, that would never be done! And the strange, +soft light which shone throughout the apartment disclosed +the features of the dead Noisette.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">ROSAMOND SPEAKS HER MIND.</p> + + +<p>Full of blank, wordless horror, Rosamond stood staring +into the startled face of her companion, too terrified to +move from the spot and shut out the awful scene.</p> + +<p>And still the girlish figure at the window of the round<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span> +room bent over its never-ending task; still the shadowy +fingers wielded the brush, and the scarlet poppies and +graceful vine tendrils grew beneath that ghostly touch upon +the amber satin—grew and blossomed into artistic beauty, +but never done—never to be done.</p> + +<p>Shivering all over, like one with an ague, Rosamond +Raleigh clutched the arm of her waiting-maid.</p> + +<p>“Lillian!”—her teeth chattering like castanets as she +attempted to speak—“it is Noisette, the girl who—who—died +in this room two weeks ago! It is she; there is no +mistake about it; no freak of the imagination, no fancy. +It is Noisette Duval, the little French girl whom I took +from the orphan asylum and treated like a sister. We gave +her a home—a good home, only receiving in return her services +as my maid, and stipulating that she should spend +her spare time in painting little things—fans, sashes, dress +panels, and such trifles. I was always kind to her, as kind +as any one could be!”</p> + +<p>Miss Raleigh came to a halt. It seemed to her as those +words—those false, wicked words—passed her lips that a +hand was laid upon her shoulder—a firm, detaining hand—which +gripped the soft white flesh with a merciless clutch. +Trembling violently, she burst into a flood of hysterical +tears, sinking down upon the velvet-covered floor, with her +white face buried in her cold, shaking hands.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Lillian, I am haunted! I am haunted!” she sobbed, +brokenly, at last. “I know it, I feel it! Whenever I +enter this room I see her—see her sitting there at the window +painting, painting away, with that dejected look upon +her face so thin and wan and so unearthly white. Oh, +Lillian! what shall I do?”</p> + +<p>A strange courage, born of desperation, seemed to take +possession of Lillian Leigh’s heart. She glanced fearfully +in at the open door of the round room, then with a swift +movement she crossed its threshold and entered the room.</p> + +<p>Straight up to the window, looking neither to the right<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span> +nor to the left, went Lillian. Her heart beat wildly, +throbbing like a sledge-hammer in her frightened ears; but +she went calmly over to where the apparition still was visible, +and stooping, peered into the still, calm, unearthly face. +Instantly there was a low sob, a faint moaning sound which +fell upon the silence with a strange, despairing echo, and +then the vision faded away—the apparition was gone! And +nothing was left to tell the two terrified witnesses that +there had been a ghostly visitant within the room—nothing, +save the memory of that which they could not forget, +which they would never forget as long as they both should +live.</p> + +<p>With a shudder Lillian went back to the other room, to +the graceful figure in shimmering silk crouching upon the +carpet, wringing white jeweled hands in wildest terror, +while shudders like convulsions passed over her frame.</p> + +<p>“Come, Miss Raleigh,” urged Lillian, venturing to lay +her hand upon the bowed head, “let me help you to undress +and put on a wrapper, and then I will brush out +your hair, and try to help you to forget this thing. Oh, +Miss Rosamond, there is nothing there! You can see for +yourself. It is all dark now in the round room. There is +nothing to fear—it is gone. Come, sit in this easy-chair, +and try to be calm and brave.”</p> + +<p>Trembling like an aspen, Rosamond lifted her head.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid!” she whimpered, feebly, sobbing like a +child who awakes in his sleep frightened and alarmed, +full of shadowy fears of he knows not what.</p> + +<p>She sat gazing about her for a brief space, then she staggered +to her feet.</p> + +<p>“Is it really gone?” she faltered. “Then I will—Oh, +heavens! what is that?” with a shrill shriek which resounded +throughout the silent house, as a sharp rap was +heard upon the door of the room.</p> + +<p>That was the last drop in the bucket; Rosamond’s self-control—such +as it was—gave way, and shriek after shriek<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span> +rent the silence, while poor Lillian stood like a statue, too +terrified to move, not knowing what to do; afraid to +open the door lest Rosamond’s shrieks should redouble in +violence, yet to stand there and do nothing—good heavens! +it was maddening!</p> + +<p>“Rosamond,” called a voice through the key-hole, “for +mercy’s sake, what is the matter? Open the door at once, +I say! Are you being murdered in there?”</p> + +<p>The shrieks were cut short in a twinkling. Rosamond +started up, pale and breathless.</p> + +<p>“It is mamma,” she panted, in a tone of relief, as she +threw herself into an easy-chair, with clasped hands and a +face so full of terror that it was a sight to behold.</p> + +<p>Lillian flew to the door and unlocked it. Upon the +threshold, in awful dignity and a flannel dressing-gown, +stood Mrs. Raleigh.</p> + +<p>“What—what is the matter?” she gasped, feebly. “I +heard such a disturbance in here that I began to think the +house was on fire, or some other awful calamity had occurred, +so I left my bed, threw on a wrapper, and came +here at once. Rosamond,” turning to her weeping daughter +with a face full of alarm, “what has happened?”</p> + +<p>And then, amid sobs and tears, and wild terror unsuppressed, +Rosamond sobbed forth the story of the ghostly +apparition. Her mother listened with undisguised contempt.</p> + +<p>“A ghost? Bah! Rosamond Raleigh, I gave you credit +for a little common sense! If ever I hear anything of this +nonsense again, I shall tell your father. He will send you +off somewhere into the country”—Rosamond shivered with +disgust—“or to some place of retirement, and place you +under a physician’s care, and we will see if your nerves will +give way at every little strain. Rosamond Raleigh, you +are a fool!”</p> + +<p>She was a real Job’s comforter, Lillian thought; but +perhaps it was the proper course to take. At all events,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span> +she knew the nature with which she had to deal. Rosamond +dried her tears and leaned her head against the soft +cushions of the chair, listening, with half-closed eyes, to her +mother’s lecture.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh went over to the door of the round room +and threw it open. One glance and she turned away with +a disdainful sniff. Darkness there, and nothing more.</p> + +<p>“It was all a delusion—a foolish fancy!” she exclaimed, +harshly.</p> + +<p>“It was not, indeed, Mrs. Raleigh. I beg your pardon +for contradicting you, but I saw it myself.”</p> + +<p>Lillian could not refrain from this outburst of explanation. +Mrs. Raleigh turned coldly upon her and transfixed +her with a Gorgon stare.</p> + +<p>“Did I address <i>you</i>, girl?” she demanded, severely. +“We never permit servants to speak their minds in that +way. You will have to learn your place if you remain in +Miss Raleigh’s employ.”</p> + +<p>“I do not know that I shall remain in Miss Raleigh’s +employ,” returned Lillian, quietly. “I was engaged as +companion, but find myself reduced to the position of waiting-maid. +The position is not an agreeable one, and I was +not educated and trained for a servant, Mrs. Raleigh.”</p> + +<p>“Mamma,” sobbed Rosamond, beginning to turn on the +water-works once more, “that girl will go away and will +tell everybody that this house is haunted; and she will +make Mr. Lyndon think me a horrible creature, and—”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Lyndon, indeed!” interposed Mrs. Raleigh, with +a look of disgust too deep for words to express. “And +pray, who is Mr. Lyndon, that he should be of such importance, +and his opinion so highly prized by Grafton +Raleigh’s only daughter? Rosamond, I think you forget +yourself! Jack Lyndon is only a poor newspaper <i>attaché</i>—a +mere nobody, with neither money nor position—only a +handsome face and a sharp tongue to call his own. He is +the last man in the world to whom your father would be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span> +willing to give his daughter. You must be mad to think +seriously of Jack Lyndon. Put it out of your mind at once +and forever. He is a villain to try to win your heart.”</p> + +<p>Rosamond started to her feet, pale and wrathful, overcome +by anger which for a time was too deep for expression. +Twice she opened her lips to speak before the +words which she was striving to utter were suddenly hissed +forth, sharp and shrill:</p> + +<p>“Hush! Don’t say another word, mamma, for I will +not listen. A villain! Jack Lyndon is the best and noblest +man in the round world. And poor, without position +though he may be, he is the only man for whom I have +ever really cared, and—mamma, you may as well know it +now as later—I intend to marry him.”</p> + +<p>A low cry fell from Lillian’s lips. She could not forget +his words to her so short a time before; his tender tone +and the look upon his handsome face when he begged her +to let him stand between her and the storms of life. And +yet he must have said something which made Rosamond +Raleigh believe that he cared for her, or she would never +have spoken in that way. Mrs. Raleigh flashed about at +the sound of that low cry, and her hard, cold eyes swept +Lillian from head to foot.</p> + +<p>“So you are in love with him too, are you?” she +sneered.</p> + +<p>Rosamond turned her steely eyes upon the shrinking +girl.</p> + +<p>“You must be mad,” she hissed, “if you imagine for +a moment that Mr. Lyndon has ever thought seriously of +you. He is kind to everybody, and treats all women alike. +With the woman he loves, of course, it is different,” she +went on, icily. “If he has ever spoken kindly to you, or +noticed you in any way, it is because of the chivalry and +deference of his nature, but anything further is absurd.”</p> + +<p>And then memory reminded her with a cruel little stab +of Jack Lyndon’s words to her that very evening. He had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span> +begged for a private interview with Lillian Leigh on the following +morning, and the look in his eyes when he made +the request of Rosamond revealed the secret of his heart. +He loved a woman dearly, but it was not Rosamond Raleigh! +And as Miss Raleigh remembered, her thin lips +shut themselves closely together, and the small, cold hands +clinched each other fiercely, while low under her breath +she muttered, with angry emphasis:</p> + +<p>“He shall not see her! He must not! I will manage it +some way, and I shall get rid of her as soon as possible.”</p> + +<p>So she turned to Lillian with a peremptory gesture.</p> + +<p>“Go to bed!” she commanded, sternly. “Last night +when I wished you to remain with me you made a great +fuss; to-night you seem inclined to remain up till morning. +Go to your own room. I shall not need you to-night, +and I wish to talk with mamma.”</p> + +<p>Thus summarily dismissed, Lillian said good-night briefly +and took her departure, sore-hearted and sad in mind and +body. What did it all mean? She had begun to trust +Jack Lyndon implicitly, and to find out his treachery was +a fearful blow. She closed the door of her room behind +her and stirred the fire into a cheery blaze. Her eyes fell +upon a card lying upon the table; she picked it up and +read these words penciled upon it:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“If Lillian Leigh would gain a clew to the murderer of +her father, let her be in the grounds by the east gate to-morrow +night at nine precisely.”</p> +</div> + +<p>Trembling like a leaf, Lillian read these words.</p> + +<p>“A clew!” she panted, at last. “Can it be possible? +What would I not do to gain possession of it? Oh, to find +out the name of the dastardly wretch who took my father’s +life I would be willing to lie down and die.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Meanwhile, in Rosamond’s room, Mrs. Raleigh was talking +away in a low, eager tone.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span></p> + +<p>“You are right, Rosamond,” she said, excitedly, +“Lenore Van Alstyne has a secret—a bad secret, I am +certain. And <i>he</i> does not know it—does not dream it—that +pompous man who has bought her with his gold! She +hates him, but he does not know why. Here, I found this +in the dressing-room after the guests left last night. I saw +it drop from Lenore’s pocket. Read it, Rosamond, and +tell me what you think.”</p> + +<p>She thrust a scrap of paper into Rosamond’s hand. Her +face flushed with unholy triumph.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">HER LORD AND MASTER.</p> + + +<p>The wintery sunlight stole in at the windows of the +breakfast-room at Senator Van Alstyne’s sumptuous mansion. +It paved a shining pathway over the pretty crimson +carpet, over the round damask-covered table, glittering +with silver and crystal and delicate Sèvres china. A bird +sung in a gilded cage amid the flowering plants in the bay-window, +and the sunlight shone over all with a soft mellow +glow which even the sparkling wood fire upon the marble +hearth could not outshine. That same sunshine danced in +irreverent glee upon the top of Senator Van Alstyne’s iron-gray +head, as he sat with the morning paper before him, +absorbed in the news. But all the same there was a frown +upon his brow, and an unpleasant expression hovered +about his coarse red face which betrayed inward annoyance +or trouble. And so you will perceive that even riches can +not keep trouble away, and that a man may be a senator +and a millionaire, but still know what it is to be annoyed.</p> + +<p>He glanced up from his paper at last, and turned toward +the ormolu clock ticking musically upon the marble mantel, +and the scowl upon his face grew deeper.</p> + +<p>“In the name of Heaven, why does not she come<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span> +down?” he exploded at length; “half past ten o’clock! +Why on earth a woman wishes to remain all day in her +room is more than I can tell. I will endure her airs and +graces no longer. When I married Lenore Vane I intended—”</p> + +<p>The click of high heels, the sweeping of silken skirts, +and the door of the breakfast-room opened and Mrs. Van +Alstyne appeared.</p> + +<p>She wore a pink surah morning-dress garnitured with +yellow lace, and her beautiful face looked like chiseled +marble, as with a cold, proud, weary manner she swept to +her place at the breakfast-table.</p> + +<p>“Good-morning, Van!” nodding slightly toward him. +“Really, I am unconscionably late! Why did you wait all +this time for me?”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>It was as though the one word had been fired off like a +cannon-ball, so sudden and sharp was the expletive.</p> + +<p>“Simply because I have always told you, madame, that +I will never take my meals alone as long as my wife is able +to come to them. If you were ill it would be different; +but as it is I demand obedience, and I shall exact it hereafter!”</p> + +<p>She shut her white teeth hard together, and the white +hand that poured the steaming coffee from the silver urn +shook a little. But she compressed her lips over the sharp +retort which trembled for utterance, and went on with her +occupation. At last:</p> + +<p>“Here is a letter that came for you this morning,” he +snarled, as he tossed a square white envelope across the +table, where it fell beside her plate. “By the way,” he +demanded, harshly, his small eyes upon her face with a +look of menace, “who is ‘C. F.’?”</p> + +<p>“‘C. F.’?” And the blood forsook her white face; +the cup of delicate egg-shell china which she was about +lifting to her lips fell from her grasp and was shivered into<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span> +fragments. “You startled me, Van,” she observed, +apologetically.</p> + +<p>His eyes snapped.</p> + +<p>“But that is not answering my question,” he persisted. +“There’s no use in your trying to keep all your past to +yourself, Lenore Van Alstyne. When I married you, you +acknowledged that there was something in your past of +which I was in ignorance—deuced disagreeable to have a +wife with secrets in her life—and I agreed to ask no questions; +and it was also settled upon the day”—emphatically, +with his ugly eyes staring full into her own—“that I +honored you with my name, my hand and fortune, that all +your past was to be dropped forever with the name of +Vane. You remember that that was the agreement, +Lenore?”</p> + +<p>She bowed coldly.</p> + +<p>“Heaven knows I have small chance to forget,” she returned, +wearily, “since you remind me of it every day of +my life—every weary, endless day of my wretched life!” +she moaned, stopping short in a spasm of terror at sight +of the thunder-cloud upon his face.</p> + +<p>“See here, madame”—he brought his big, fat hand +down upon the table with a force which made the china +jump—“if all these heroics are intended to act as a means +of diverting me from getting at the truth, let me tell you, +my lady, that you are failing in your attempt. Once more +I ask—nay, demand of you, Mrs. Van Alstyne—<i>who is +‘C. F.’?</i>”</p> + +<p>“I do not know what you mean,” she faltered.</p> + +<p>“Well, are you never going to open that letter? You +will see by glancing at it that it is sealed with the monogram +‘C. F.’”</p> + +<p>For the first time she glanced at the letter. It was lying +face uppermost, addressed in a bold, legible hand to +Mrs. Lenore Van Alstyne. Surely that handwriting was +familiar to her? A strange pang shot through her heart,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span> +an awful pallor overspread her cheek; she crushed her +teeth into her under lip with savage ferocity as she took +the letter from the table and turned it over. It was sealed +with a drop of wax, red and glistening, which bore the +monogram “C. F.” She knew then why her husband +had awaited her appearance at the breakfast-table. He +was afraid to open the letter and seal it again, as he had +been guilty of doing before now, for the wax could not be +broken and resealed without betraying the truth. Her lip +curled with disdain as she slowly opened the letter. One +glance—one swift, eager glance—and she started to her +feet with a low moan. One hand was pressed against her +heart as though to still its awful tumult, the other clutched +the letter in a most despairing grasp.</p> + +<p>“Heaven help me!” she whispered low under her +breath. And all the time those basilisk eyes were upon +her with an eager, devouring gaze, and Senator Van +Alstyne watched his wife as a cat watches the mouse upon +which it is about to spring. At last:</p> + +<p>“Well, Mrs. Van Alstyne, you seem inclined to be tragical +this morning!” he sneered. “Here, give me the +letter.”</p> + +<p>She drew back with a gesture of horror in her beautiful +dark eyes—a look that was bad to see.</p> + +<p>“No! no! no!” she panted, hoarsely; “you must +not! I—I mean that it is nothing. My heart hurts me +this morning, and I was a little startled! I shall be all +right soon, and—”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Van Alstyne!”</p> + +<p>He darted forward and clutched her white arm in a grasp +of steel.</p> + +<p>“Give me that letter, I say!” he panted, glaring down +into her terrified face with his cruel eyes. “How dare you +have secrets from me—I, your husband, your lord and +master? Give me that letter at once, I command you, or +by the Heaven above us I will force it from you!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span></p> + +<p>Her head was crested like the head of some beautiful +wild creature brought to bay by the cruel hounds, and her +starry eyes flashed fire.</p> + +<p>“Unhand me, sir!” she commanded, in a low, ominous +voice. “Let go my arm, Van Van Alstyne, or I will ring +for the servants, and throw myself upon their protection!”</p> + +<p>“Will you give me that letter?” he hissed once more.</p> + +<p>“No! I will not! You have no more right to demand +my letters of me in this brutal way than I have to see yours—if +I care to—from the pretty ballet-dancer who wrote to +you yesterday!”</p> + +<p>He fell back a little, and his ruddy face grew pale.</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! A man and a woman are different in the +eyes of society. It would be a pretty thing if a woman +were allowed the same privileges that a man is permitted.”</p> + +<p>Her lip curled with haughty scorn.</p> + +<p>“We agree to disagree upon that subject, Senator +Van Alstyne,” she returned, quietly; “and now I will +finish my breakfast.”</p> + +<p>“You will do nothing of the sort! By Jove! madame, +I will have you to know that I am master of this house, +and that you—curse you!—are my wife! You belong to +me, just the same as my horses and dogs, my plate and +furniture! Give me that letter or I will take it.”</p> + +<p>She flashed him one look—a look of mingled scorn and +defiance—then, with a swift gesture, she wheeled about and +tossed the letter into the fire. It flamed up red and glowing—flared +and flickered and died down into a heap of +feathery ashes. Whatever secret the letter contained, it +was safe from Van Van Alstyne.</p> + +<p>For just a moment he stood there, glaring down into +her face, his own so distorted by rage that it had lost all +semblance to a human countenance. His eyes scintillated, +his burly form shook with wordless wrath. He wheeled +about, and lifting his hand, brought it down—oh, shame to +his manhood!—upon the white face of the woman before<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span> +him. No sound escaped her—no cry, no moan. Awful +silence fell over the room; she neither spoke nor moved. +The clock ticked away. One, two, three, four moments +had come and gone; then, with a swift gesture of unutterable +contempt, she lifted her scornful eyes to his face and—laughed. +It was a bad thing to hear—that laugh. He +grew pale, and shivered slightly as he heard it.</p> + +<p>“Ah, what a glorious country this must be!” she +sneered, in a low, cutting voice, “whose senate is honored +by such creatures as you! Wife-beater, falsifier, base, +perjured villain! How I loathe the name I bear!”</p> + +<p>“Take care that you do not dishonor it!” he sneered.</p> + +<p>She lifted her cold eyes to his face.</p> + +<p>“Dishonor?”—she laughed once more. “Look to +yourself, Van Van Alstyne.”</p> + +<p>She swept past him from the room up to her own chamber +ere he could detain her.</p> + +<p>Once alone in her room, with the door locked securely, +she threw herself face downward upon the floor with a +storm of bitter sobs.</p> + +<p>“He lives! he lives!” she murmured; “after all these +years he lives and is true! How horribly I have suffered, +how bitter my punishment, how fearfully I must atone! +Yet it was an unintentional sin—it was my mistake; this +is my punishment! God pity me and let me die, for my +heart is broken.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">DECEIVED.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Lenore</span>,—Must see you. Failing in that, I will write +you to-morrow.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +<span class="smcap">Cyril.</span>”<br> +</p> +</div> + +<p>Those were the words written upon the scrap of paper +which Mrs. Raleigh eagerly displayed to her daughter. +Rosamond glanced the note over, and, crumpling it fiercely +in her hand, she lifted her eyes to her mother’s face.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span></p> + +<p>“Well, it is evident that she has a secret with a vengeance!” +sneered Rosamond, “for there is something behind +all this, I am sure. And it is no ordinary flirtation +or escapade, for Lenore never flirts, and is scrupulously +exact in her behavior. Mamma, this is a clew to the mystery +which hangs around Lenore Van Alstyne; I am sure +of it! Let me keep this paper. I will watch her closely +and wait in patience, and if I am not greatly mistaken +there will be developments before long. I never did fancy +Lenore’s reticence in regard to the early part of her life. +You know she lived in Europe with a relative of her father’s, +who afterward died, leaving her alone and dependent +upon us. But she never speaks of her girlhood’s days +or her life in Europe. If I chance to refer to that time +she changes the subject as hastily as possible; and I have +seen her grow pale and shudder perceptibly when I happened +to mention the subject. I should say that whatever +her secret may be, it must have occurred some time early +in her life, about her sixteenth or seventeenth year.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh nodded.</p> + +<p>“I believe you are right,” she said; “and now, Rosamond, +you had better retire. These continued late hours +are wearing upon you, and you are beginning to look +jaded and—and—old! I will stay with you to-night; you +are lonely and afraid.”</p> + +<p>“Do,” in a tone of relief. And so at last Rosamond +Raleigh’s head rested upon her pillow, but the wide-open +eyes staring into the darkness found no sleep. They saw +ever before them that pathetic little figure, the shadowy +hands working ever on, so patient—so piteously patient—even +like the fates weaving away at their never-to-be-completed +web. The memory of the vision in the round room +haunted Rosamond Raleigh sleeping or waking, and when +morning came she arose pale and unrefreshed, feeling as +though life were a veritable burden. As soon as breakfast +was over she summoned Lillian.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span></p> + +<p>“I want you to go down-town on an errand for me, +Lillian,” she began. “Here is a note to Madame Dupont, +my milliner. She has removed to a place quite out +of the world, I should say. Take the note and bring me +a reply. If she is not in wait for her return.”</p> + +<p>Lillian was more than willing to go. It was a crisp, +wintery morning, and a walk—even so long a walk—would +do her good. So she hurriedly prepared herself and +was soon in the street, her face turned in the direction indicated. +She had not been gone a quarter of an hour +when the door-bell rang and Jack Lyndon made his appearance. +Although his call was intended for Lillian, +prudence warned him that it would be more discreet to inquire +for Miss Raleigh. He was shown into the pretty +red-and-gold reception-room, and a little later he was +holding Miss Raleigh’s hand in his, gazing down into a +pair of frank, innocent blue eyes; just as frank and innocent +as though she had not sent Lillian away purposely, +and as though she were not playing a game—a desperate +game—which must either be won or lost.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Lyndon, I’m so glad to see you!” lifting the +frank blue eyes for an instant to his, then letting the gold-brown +lashes droop over them once more. “I was feeling +really blue and lonely, and wishing that my good fairy +would send some congenial spirit to me; and, lo! you have +come.”</p> + +<p>She looked fair and sweet as a picture, in a dainty +house-dress of pale-blue surah shrouded in white lace, fastened +at the throat with a quaint pearl brooch. But Jack +was full of the object which had brought him thither, and +felt possessed with the spirit of unrest. Rosamond talked +on gayly, cheerily, trying to divert his mind from the subject +with which it was engaged. At last:</p> + +<p>“Miss Raleigh, I have called this morning hoping to +obtain an interview with Miss Leigh. I have something +of real importance to say to her, and trust that you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span> +will permit me to infringe upon her time for a brief +space.”</p> + +<p>Rosamond’s face was like a marble mask. She arose +and rang the bell. A servant appeared.</p> + +<p>“Send my maid to me, Williams,” she commanded.</p> + +<p>The man looked blank.</p> + +<p>“If you please, Miss Rosamond, she’s gone out. She +left word with me that if you wanted her, to say that she +has gone up-town on an errand of her own, which you +gave her permission to attend to to-day. You see, Miss +Rosamond, you had not yet left your room, and Miss +Leigh did not wish to disturb you.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, Williams,” she returned. “You may +go.”</p> + +<p>And as the door closed behind him, Miss Raleigh added, +with apparent frankness:</p> + +<p>“Dear me! I wonder what Lillian’s particular business +up-town can be? I told her that you were coming here +this morning to see her in regard to a matter of importance. +She looked confused, but she said nothing. Now, +Jack—Mr. Lyndon, do not look so disappointed! Can not +I act as a substitute for my maid?”</p> + +<p>The tone of sarcasm in her voice had its own effect. +Jack colored slightly.</p> + +<p>“I—I beg your pardon, Miss Raleigh,” he said, hastily. +“I am aware that my conduct is very unusual. I beg +that you will be lenient with me, and try to believe that I +mean nothing wrong. And now I will bid you good-morning.”</p> + +<p>The look of disappointment which clouded her face was +genuine.</p> + +<p>“Why need you leave me so soon?” she pleaded. But +Jack, disappointed and chagrined, was not to be beguiled.</p> + +<p>He made his adieu and was soon out in the street, wandering +he scarcely knew whither. He was off duty for a +few hours, and the sense of freedom was sweet. He wandered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span> +aimlessly down-town, away to the lower part of the +city, where the city parks lay basking in the wintery sunlight, +nearly deserted now by their usual occupants.</p> + +<p>All at once Jack lifted his head, and his eyes fell upon +a slight, graceful figure in deep black, seated upon a +bench in Douglas Park, her fair, pure face uplifted, while +the beautiful dark eyes watched the fleecy clouds overhead +with a dreamy, abstracted air. Why had Rosamond Raleigh +told him that Lillian had gone up-town, when in +truth she had taken the opposite direction? He drew near +the slight form.</p> + +<p>“Waiting for the clouds to roll by, Miss Leigh?” he +asked, mischievously.</p> + +<p>Lillian started, and a swift wave of color flamed into her +cheek as Jack came forward and seated himself at her +side.</p> + +<p>“Why did you run away?” he asked, plaintively.</p> + +<p>She laughed.</p> + +<p>“Run away? From what—or whom?”</p> + +<p>“From me!” he replied, venturing to take her hand in +his own. “I called upon you just now, but Miss Raleigh +informed me that you had gone up-town, or rather her +servant said so. I was in despair, so I wandered on without +aim; to-day is a holiday, and I seldom get one; but at +last fate led me straight to your side. Lillian, fate is +kind. My darling, say that you are glad to see me!”</p> + +<p>The frank brown eyes met his, and there was no dissimulation +in their depths.</p> + +<p>“I am glad,” she murmured, softly. “Oh, so glad to +see you! I was thinking of you just now!”</p> + +<p>He lifted her hand to his lips. They were almost as +much alone in the bleak, deserted park as Adam and Eve +in Eden; and indeed it was Eden to them.</p> + +<p>Alas! and alas! there is no Eden without a serpent!</p> + +<p>“Lillian, I love you!” The words burst from Jack’s +lips in a torrent of passionate yearning. “Darling, let<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span> +me take you away from that house where you are so unhappy! +Where you are ill-treated and insulted. Be my +wife, Lillian, and I swear before Heaven to do all in my +power to make you happy! And I will help you to find +your father’s murderer! I know that you will never forget +the vow that you took that awful night beside his +body. Let me help you, darling, in your efforts to bring +Gilbert Leigh’s murderer to justice! You do care for me, +Lillian, darling?”</p> + +<p>“With all my heart!” she answered, simply.</p> + +<p>“Then you will be my wife some day?”</p> + +<p>The shy, brown eyes drooped before his eager gaze, and +sweet and low came the answer, “Yes.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“Ah, good-evening, Mr. Lyndon. How glad I am that +you have come! My truant maid did not return until—oh, +a short time ago. And I have something to tell you, +a love secret that I have surprised. What do you think? +Lillian is in love!”</p> + +<p>Jack started, and his face grew deathly pale. Then he +remembered that she was his betrothed wife, and he +smiled.</p> + +<p>“In love? Oh, yes, why not?” he faltered; “and I +wish to say to you to-night, Miss Raleigh, that I—”</p> + +<p>“Hush!” smiling archly into his face, “I have surprised +a tender secret. Come with me, Mr. Lyndon; I +want to show you a pretty scene!”</p> + +<p>She opened a side door which led into the grounds, and, +quite bewildered, Jack followed the graceful figure in +black velvet and pearls, with a crimson shawl wrapped +about her shoulders. On to the furthest extremity of the +grounds, to the east gate. Rosamond halted, and motioned +Jack to be silent. In the clear moonlight everything was +visible, and this is what Jack Lyndon saw: The girl who +only that morning had promised to be his wife—Lillian +Leigh—clasped close in the arms of a man. And the pale<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span> +radiance of the moonlight glinting down upon the pair revealed +to Jack’s agonized eyes—the form and face of +Richard Raleigh!</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">ACCEPTED.</p> + + +<p>Lillian had gone to the rendezvous at the last gate +with perfect confidence, and with no thought of Richard +Raleigh in her mind. The night was very beautiful. +The moonlight silvered all things, and by its pale, clear +radiance she made her way to the trysting-place. Her +heart was filled with quiet happiness. Jack loved her. +To Lillian Leigh the beginning and the end of all things +was comprised in those words. Jack loved her, and wanted +her to be his wife. Of his poverty she never thought. +He earned a reasonable salary, and it requires but little to +keep two who are contented and satisfied with their lot +in life—happy in being together.</p> + +<p>Lillian had never been rich. She had never known the +pleasure of having all the money that she wanted, a handsome +home, rich dresses and costly jewels, servants to +command, and a carriage in which to ride. What one has +never possessed one can hardly miss; and she could see +only happiness and prosperity in the future for herself and +Jack. Ah! there never was any one like Jack! So handsome, +so brilliant, so manly and good! Her heart was +thrilling with love and devotion toward Jack Lyndon as +she hastened to meet this stranger who had written and +asked her to come. A clew to her father’s murderer! +The very thought made her heart beat fierce and fast +within her breast.</p> + +<p>“He shall be brought to justice, no matter who he may +be!” she muttered, as she hurried onward.</p> + +<p>The gate was reached at last, and Lillian came to a +halt. There was no one there. A rustic seat stood near<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span> +under a huge beech-tree. She seated herself and drew her +white cloak closer about her shoulders.</p> + +<p>“I wonder who it is and why he does not come?” she +said to herself, impatiently, and just a little frightened to +be out alone at that hour so far from the house.</p> + +<p>Crash! through the underbrush came the sound of +heavy footsteps. Pale and frightened, Lillian started to +her feet. The branches of the beech-tree grew thickly +around her, although denuded now of leaves. A hand +pushed the branches aside, and a tall, dark form loomed +up before her in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>“Lillian!” exclaimed a voice.</p> + +<p>One glance, and she fell back pale and trembling with +horror too deep for words.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raleigh!” she panted; “I did not expect to see +<i>you</i>.”</p> + +<p>He laughed—an unpleasant, sneering laugh.</p> + +<p>“No, I suppose not. That was a surprise which I held +in reserve for you—a pleasant surprise, I trust, my dear. +Lillian, listen to me. Do not turn coldly away; I have +something to say to you, and, so help me Heaven, I mean +every word that I utter! Lillian, I love you! Stop! I +mean no insult. I love you purely, honorably, with all +my heart, and I ask you to be my wife. Do not look so +scornful; pause and reflect before you decline an alliance +with a Raleigh.”</p> + +<p>She stood before him pale as marble, her large dark eyes +lifted to his face in wordless scorn.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raleigh, let me pass!” she commanded, coldly. +But he caught her hands in his own.</p> + +<p>“Stay, Lillian. No, I do not intend to be violent or +rude with you. I ask you to listen quietly to me, as quietly +as you would listen to Lyndon—curse him!—if he were +to make love to you as he does to every woman who is +foolish enough to listen to him. Ah, I guessed your +secret, my sweet Lillian; but when you have heard all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span> +that I have come to say, I imagine that you will change +your mind. Lillian, I wrote and asked you to meet me +here to-night that I might reveal the name of your father’s +murderer. It is more than a mere clew that I possess, +Lillian Leigh—I know the man who took your father’s +life.”</p> + +<p>She was trembling like an aspen, her white hands +clasped, her dark eyes shining like stars.</p> + +<p>“His name!” she panted, hoarsely; “tell me his name, +Mr. Raleigh!”</p> + +<p>Richard Raleigh bent his head, and his dusky eyes +studied her face with a fierce, eager intensity.</p> + +<p>“If I tell you what reward will you give me, Lillian?” +he queried, earnestly; “will you promise to be my wife?”</p> + +<p>She threw back her head with a haughty gesture, and +faced him with fearless contempt.</p> + +<p>“No! a thousand times, no!” she panted, angrily. +“I can conceive of no conditions, no circumstances, under +which I would consent to marry you, Richard Raleigh! +You are a bad man, a base, wicked man, and I despise and +condemn you. And I have no right to listen to words of +love from you, for I am already betrothed!”</p> + +<p>He started, his face flushing and paling alternately.</p> + +<p>“Is it possible?” he cried. “Since when, may I ask? +I have a good reason for my question.”</p> + +<p>“I promised to-day to be Mr. Lyndon’s wife!” she answered, +proudly.</p> + +<p>An awful look flashed over Raleigh’s face. He grew +pale, and his eyes held a strange, lurid, brassy light.</p> + +<p>“Jack Lyndon! Curse him! He is always in my +way!” he snarled. “He is a gay Lothario, making love +to every woman, every pretty face that he meets. To my +certain knowledge he has talked all sorts of soft nonsense +to Rosamond. He has other strings to his bow, and now +you too. Oh, Lillian,” in a tone of sad reproach and regret, +“I would rather see you dead than deceived and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span> +misled by Jack Lyndon. He is a notorious lady-killer, +and a man of no honor—”</p> + +<p>“Stop! Not another word, Mr. Raleigh. I will not +listen. Jack Lyndon is good and true—upright and honorable. +Such a nature as his is beyond your comprehension.”</p> + +<p>Richard Raleigh laughed.</p> + +<p>“Beyond my comprehension? I grant that,” he returned, +sardonically. “But if you believe for a moment +that Jack Lyndon is true to you, if you believe for a +second that when he is absent from you he does not make +love to other women—what, irresistible Jack! Beauty, as +he is called!—I will soon undeceive you. I have it in my +power to do so. Look!”</p> + +<p>He took from the seat where he had placed it a field-glass +of remarkably strong magnifying power. By its aid +any object could be distinguished a half a mile away. +Richard Raleigh arranged the glass which he turned upon +the drawing-room windows of the house. He brought it +within easy range by stepping into a side-path, clear from +obstructing trees and shrubbery.</p> + +<p>A moment’s silence fell, then a voice full of triumph:</p> + +<p>“Lillian, come, quick!”</p> + +<p>She scarcely realized what she was doing. Under ordinary +circumstances Lillian Leigh would have shrunk from +such an action; but almost before she was aware of it, she +found herself peering through the glass straight in at Miss +Raleigh’s drawing-room window. This is what she saw:</p> + +<p>Rosamond Raleigh seated in a low velvet chair, and +Jack Lyndon leaning over her, gazing into her face with +eager eyes, while one hand held hers. Lillian turned away +with a shudder.</p> + +<p>Raleigh laughed sardonically.</p> + +<p>“Are you satisfied that Jack Lyndon is at least a flirt?” +he asked, softly.</p> + +<p>She made no reply. What could she say? If Jack<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span> +Lyndon were false and treacherous, in whom could she believe? +Sick and faint, she turned away, and seating herself +upon the rustic seat, she covered her face with her +hands. How long a time passed in silence she knew not. +The silence was broken at last by Raleigh’s voice.</p> + +<p>“Lillian, would you know the truth—the bad, black, +dreadful truth? Listen to me, then, and believe that I +speak truly, Lillian Leigh.”</p> + +<p>He stooped and spoke a few words in a low tone.</p> + +<p>With a moan of anguish she fell at his feet, and lay +there for a time quite oblivious to all that had come upon +her. Not unconscious, not in an ordinary swoon. There +are blows which fall crushing upon the human heart with +such force, such awful paralyzing force, that they benumb +the brain and bring a dull torpor upon the senses, crushing +the mind and the reason for the time being, because +they are not strong enough to believe and accept the full +force of the awful shock. In some such a trance poor +Lillian lay for a time. At last Raleigh stooped and lifted +the slight black-robed form in his arms, adjusting the +white cloak about her with a tender touch. It was certain +that with all his vices there was a soft, tender spot in +his heart for Lillian. But his face was set and stern, and +low under his breath he murmured, faintly:</p> + +<p>“I have half a mind to give up the whole business and +run away. But, no; there is too much involved. Father +has revealed too much; I have promised, and I can not go +back now that I have started on the road to success. I +have put my hand to the plow and must not turn back. +I must go on to the bitter end, no matter what the consequences +may be.”</p> + +<p>And as he lifted Lillian in his arms to place her upon +the rustic seat, just at that juncture Rosamond had appeared +with Jack Lyndon. But neither Lillian nor +Richard Raleigh dreamed of such a thing.</p> + +<p>One swift glance of horror, just long enough to know<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span> +and realize that his eyes had not deceived him, or the +moonlight played any trick with his eyesight, and Jack +Lyndon wheeled swiftly about and retraced his steps to the +house, followed at a little distance by Rosamond, her heart +full of gratified triumph. She had succeeded beyond her +wildest hopes.</p> + +<p>The goal was very nearly won. If only she were patient +and played her cards properly all would yet be well.</p> + +<p>Back in the drawing-room once more, Jack seated himself +without a word. He felt in a mood for anything now—reckless +and desperate—fit for any mad deed. Lillian +was false. If that were so—and how could he doubt the +evidence of his own eyesight?—then there was not a woman +in the world worth caring for, worth trusting in. As he +sat in moody silence a soft hand was laid upon his forehead, +smoothing the hair from his brow, and a low, magnetic +voice murmured, sweetly:</p> + +<p>“Jack, don’t look so down-hearted. What in the world +is the matter? There,” with a low, rippling laugh, “I +hear Lillian coming into the house—the little deceiver. +Shall I call her in here and question her?”</p> + +<p>He shivered all over as with a chill.</p> + +<p>“Forbear!” he cried, lightly. “To intrude upon her +happiness would be unkind. Come, Rosamond,” calling +her by that name for the first time in his life, “let us sit +here and have a pleasant chat and shut out all the world—all +false women and men, all deceit and wrong-doing. +Let us be a veritable Darby and Joan, for one night only, +as the play-bills say.”</p> + +<p>He was in just the mood to fall into her snare, and +Rosamond Raleigh knew it.</p> + +<p>Poor though he was, she had learned to love the brilliant +young journalist with a mad, unceasing love of which +no one believed her capable. And she had made up her +mind to marry him.</p> + +<p>“I have money enough for both,” she had decided.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span></p> + +<p>To-night he was so reckless and defiant, so desperate +and bitter, that Rosamond’s gentle sympathy, her ignoring +of the possibility of Lillian having any claim upon his +affections, all had its own deadly effect.</p> + +<p>And sitting at Rosamond’s side in the dimly lighted +drawing-room, fully convinced of Lillian’s falseness and +unworthiness, and therefore considering himself free from +her, Jack Lyndon made the mad mistake of his life. He +asked Rosamond Raleigh to be his wife, and Miss Raleigh +promptly accepted him.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">IN THE CONSERVATORY.</p> + + +<p>Senator Van Alstyne’s splendid mansion was ablaze +with light. It looked like a fairy palace, glittering with +its brilliant illumination. Within, the great rooms were +thrown open, and wreathed and decorated with flowers, +with banks of roses and jasmine, and a flower-wreathed +nook from behind which a band of musicians sent forth +strains of music maddening, intoxicating. A grand reception +was taking place, and Senator Van Alstyne, in all +the ugliness of conventional evening-dress, was prominent +among his aristocratic guests, his red face fairly +shining with gratified pride and flattered vanity. In the +center of the great drawing-room stood a queenly figure in +a sweeping robe of white velvet, with diamonds sparkling +all over her white lace overdress like fairy frost-work glittering +with dew-drops. She was pale and cold and proud, +and in the depths of the beautiful dark eyes there was a +weary look—a look of self-scorn.</p> + +<p>“I am pitiably weak,” she was saying to herself, with +bitter self-contempt, “for I ought to have asserted my +dignity as a woman; and when that blow was struck me—that +cowardly, unmanly blow—it would have been better,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span> +and I would have more self-respect now, if I had gone +away. Gone to toil and hardship—to work, to starve and +die, and be out of all this gilded misery. For, oh! if it +be true, and if he is living, what am I? I dared not read +the entire letter, for Van Alstyne would have taken forcible +possession of it; so I do not know his address, or where +he is, or where to write. Heaven help me!” she murmured, +feebly. “What shall I do?”</p> + +<p>Yet all the time these bitter thoughts were running riot +through her brain she was standing, the cynosure of all +eyes, in the sumptuous drawing-room, in her white velvet +and point lace and sparkling diamonds, the most admired, +even as she was the most beautiful, woman present. And +like a huge watch-dog Senator Van Alstyne moved about +near her, his keen, ferret-like eyes keeping vigilant watch +upon her movements.</p> + +<p>“I will find out what is tormenting her so!” he declared, +resolutely. “There is something wrong—some +secret—and it is connected with that letter. The next +letter that arrives for her shall be opened by my hands before +ever she sees it. It is no more than right that I +should know the contents of her letters. By Jove! she is +my wife, and I am her lord and master!”</p> + +<p>Just then his eyes fell upon a stylish, graceful little figure +in trailing yellow silk and blood-red rubies. A pair +of big, black, velvety eyes were uplifted with an admiring +expression to his face—with a look which drew him to her +side—and the great Senator Van Alstyne was soon engrossed +with Mrs. Vernon, a notorious flirt and belle, who +looked upon all men as lawful prey, and lost no opportunity +of subjugation. There was a Mr. Vernon, too; but +then nobody ever troubled themselves in regard to him, +save only as Mrs. Vernon’s husband. She monopolized +all masculine attention, and in her sweet, innocent, childish +way had been guilty of more cruelty, responsible for +more family feuds and conjugal infelicities than any other<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span> +woman in the city. Yet she had always contrived to escape +blame or censure, and if any one ventured to blame +her she posed as a martyr, and was looked upon as the +victim of envious foes.</p> + +<p>“My dear senator,” she cooed sweetly, as she laid her +white-gloved finger-tips upon his black coat-sleeve, and +prepared for an agreeable promenade, “I really must congratulate +you upon the success of your entertainment. It +is <i>recherché</i>; it is the most perfect that I have ever witnessed. +And how superbly beautiful Mrs. Van Alstyne +looks to-night! No wonder everybody falls in love with +her. That reminds me to ask you the name of her new +admirer—the stranger who haunts her like a shadow. He +is so handsome—perfectly splendid. With such an interesting +pallor, and large, dark, melancholy eyes, silky +black mustache and wavy dark hair. I declare he is just +for all the world like the Giaour and all of dear, delightful, +awfully wicked Lord Byron’s heroes! And he looks +at Lenore—Mrs. Van Alstyne—with such a look! What +is his name, did you say, senator?”</p> + +<p>And she knew full well that the jealous old senator had +not said, and did not know, and it was for that very reason +that she had broached the subject. For Lenore had +been so coldly proud in her reception of Mrs. Vernon that +that lady could not find it in her heart to forgive her, and +instead had vowed to pay her back.</p> + +<p>She watched Van Alstyne’s face change from smiling +red to angry purple, and his small eyes snap with displeasure. +She noticed, too, the clinched hand and hard, +labored breathing. Nothing escaped her eager, malicious +eyes.</p> + +<p>“I have not the pleasure of knowing all Mrs. Van +Alstyne’s friends,” he returned, stiffly. “Be good enough +to point him out to me, Mrs. Vernon. Perhaps I can tell +you his name if I have the pleasure of seeing the gentleman.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span></p> + +<p>“Ah, yes, to be sure! I am always doing foolish, childish +things,” in a tone of mock sorrow. “Forgive me, +senator—please; and I’ll promise, like the naughty boy, +never to do it again. There! I see my fascinating hero—the +mysterious unknown. He is standing not far from +Mrs. Van Alstyne. She does not appear to see him at all; +but some magnetism draws him thither—sort of needle +and the pole attraction, you know,” with a silly laugh.</p> + +<p>Van Van Alstyne’s greenish eyes followed the direction +in which Mrs. Vernon was gazing. He saw a tall, graceful +figure in faultless evening-dress standing near Lenore. +A wondrously handsome man with a decidedly foreign aspect, +dark Oriental eyes, and pale, statuesque face. Lenore +evidently did not observe him. She was engaged in +conversation with a group of ladies and their attendant +cavaliers, but the stranger stood still as a statue, his eyes +fastened upon her like one who is biding his time, waiting +patiently for his hour to come. And still without observing +him she turned aside and wandered away to the conservatory. +Van Alstyne’s eyes shone with a lurid light, +and he set his yellow teeth close together, hissing forth a +naughty word from between them. He arose to his feet; +Mrs. Vernon arose also and laid her hand upon his arm. +He could not shake her off, and he knew it; it was best +also to keep in Mrs. Vernon’s good graces, so the wily +senator was compelled to stifle his yearnings in the direction +of the conservatory—the conservatory which Lenore +entered and went on straight to her doom.</p> + +<p>She wandered down the flower-scented aisles with a +tinkling fountain splashing dreamily and tropical birds +singing overhead in their gilded cages—birds that, like herself, +had been taken in their wild beauty and imprisoned +in a glittering prison against which they might beat their +wings in vain, for they could never escape—nothing would +free them but death. Lenore caught her breath with a +weary little sigh.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span></p> + +<p>“Nothing but death,” she murmured, softly; “and I +have the means of escape always with me.”</p> + +<p>She gazed upon one white finger on which a large solitaire +diamond glittered in the gas-lighted conservatory +like living fire.</p> + +<p>“No one would ever dream,” she went on, drearily, +“that under this shining stone there lies a drop of poison—such +subtle, deadly poison, and so swift in its effect, that +I have only to press the hidden spring in this ring to find +death and eternal quiet.”</p> + +<p>“Lenore!”</p> + +<p>A voice at her side—a rich, sweet voice, speaking in a +cautious tone. She started, and her face grew white as +marble. She pressed one hand against her heart, with a +low cry. One swift glance around the place, and then +both white hands were laid in his, and a voice full of suppressed +delight murmured, faintly:</p> + +<p>“Cyril! Good God! can it be you? I could not believe +it—I could not believe it even when I saw your letter! +Oh, Cyril! Cyril!”</p> + +<p>She threw herself into his arms, her proud head pillowed +upon his breast, her white arms wound about his neck, +and lay there in a very trance of delight.</p> + +<p>“Oh! my love—my love!” she murmured, softly. +“After all these years, to hold you thus once more! But, +Cyril,” starting up with wide-open, wild, dilated eyes and +a face of ashen pallor, “stop—and think! You—you +know all; and in your letter you said that if I would see +you, you would be able to explain away all the awful mistake +of the past. Tell me, Cyril—tell me, oh! my beloved, +you were not all to blame!”</p> + +<p>“So help me Heaven, I was not to blame!” he said, +fervently. “We were duped, betrayed, deceived—you +and I. It was not my fault—it was not our sin; and for +seventeen years—seventeen long, dark, bitter years—we +have walked apart upon this earth—you and I. But no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span> +human power shall part us now, my darling—no one can +come between us ever any more.”</p> + +<p>Her eyes met his with wild terror.</p> + +<p>“Cyril—I am Van Van Alstyne’s wife,” she faltered.</p> + +<p>His eyes flashed. He stooped and whispered a few +words in her ear—words which made the blood leap madly +in her veins.</p> + +<p>“Cyril! Can you—prove it?” she cried.</p> + +<p>“I can and will, my beloved!” He held her close to +his heart once more, and showered kisses upon the sweet +red lips. “You are mine, Lenore!” he whispered, tenderly. +“All this mystery shall be cleared up, and the +world shall know the martyr you have been.”</p> + +<p>Footsteps! She sprung to an upright position and +hastened away, while her companion turned to encounter +the scowling face of the master of the house—and upon +his arm, smiling, giggling, the irrepressible Mrs. Vernon, +her black eyes twinkling with gratified malice and spite.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">FROM THE OTHER WORLD.</p> + + +<p>Slowly Lillian aroused herself, and in perfect ignorance +of what had taken place just a few feet away from the +scene of her own sorrow, sat up pale and trembling, Richard +Raleigh bending over her.</p> + +<p>“It is true, Lillian,” he said, gravely, “all true. But, +unless I speak, there is no proof—no way of proving to the +world the deed of which I accuse that man. We must be +quiet and wait patiently for the next developments. Lillian, +promise to be my wife, and I swear to unearth the +murderer and deliver him up to justice.”</p> + +<p>He was speaking fast and in low, eager tones. His face +had grown deathly pale—a strange, unearthly pallor—and +great drops of perspiration stood upon his brow. She put +up her hands with a repelling gesture.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span></p> + +<p>“Keep away!” she cried, wildly. “There is no truth +in you, Richard Raleigh! You are bad and false, and I do +not believe you. Keep away! Do not trouble me more, +for my brain reels, and I am weak and faint and half insane!”</p> + +<p>Her eyes were glittering with a feverish light; her hands +were hot and trembling; her breath came in fitful gasps. +She looked ill and weak.</p> + +<p>“It is all true, Lillian,” Raleigh repeated once more. +“It is a hard thing to say—hard, hard; but the truth can +not be denied. I repeat to you boldly—to you, the daughter +of the dead man, Gilbert Leigh—that <i>Jack Lyndon +took your father’s life</i>!”</p> + +<p>She put up her hands once more with a shrill cry of +pain.</p> + +<p>“Don’t!” she panted, hoarsely. “If there is any pity, +any mercy in your heart, Richard Raleigh, do not repeat +that false lie! Why should he do such a fiendish deed? +What motive could he have had?”</p> + +<p>Raleigh’s eyes flashed. If she would only discuss the +matter with him, there was a hope of convincing her of +the truth of his words.</p> + +<p>“Why, indeed?” he repeated. “Why should anybody +have had cause? Yet the awful deed was done. I will +tell you all if you have strength to listen; I will repeat the +circumstances of the affair just as I witnessed it, and then +you can judge for yourself. I was coming home from +Mrs. Howard’s reception, Lillian, on the night of your +father’s murder. It was late, and I had walked, so I hurried +onward, my head bent, my thoughts busy. All at +once I heard the sound of footsteps, and as the street was +deserted—I was coming down the street upon which you +then lived, Lillian—it attracted my attention, and glancing +up I saw your father, Gilbert Leigh, on the opposite side. +I was about to cross over and join him when the electric +light went out into darkness—you know their exasperating<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span> +ways—and when I was able to see once more, I observed +your father in eager conversation with another man. It +was very near your own door, Lillian; and just then you +opened your window and glanced out as though looking for +your father. I saw your sweet face and I halted; forgive +me, Lillian, I could not help thinking it was the sweetest +face in the round world. Your father was just beyond the +range of your window; you could not see him, so you closed +your blind and I turned away. Stepping on a few paces, +I caught the sound of men’s voices in angry altercation, +and once more I halted.</p> + +<p>“‘Give me the book!’ I heard an angry voice demand.</p> + +<p>“‘I will not!’ responded your father, firmly. ‘It does +not belong to me but to my employers, and I will defend +it with my life!’</p> + +<p>“Then an awful pause, broken by a smothered groan +and a sound like some one struggling upon the pavement. +I dashed across the street, and there I found—<i>don’t</i> look +at me with such horror-stricken eyes, Lillian—I found +your father in the grasp of murderous hands, just breathing +his last. Over him stood his murderer—that man, +Jack Lyndon. Why did I not denounce him at once, you +ask? Lillian, it was through sympathy and pity for you. +He told me that he was your intended husband; that your +father had treated him villainously; he fell upon his knees +before me and begged me to spare him and let him go +free. I weakly consented out of pity for you, oh, my beloved, +never dreaming that the day was coming when I too +should bow before you in humble supplication for your +love. I have carried this secret about in my heart, corroding +and poisoning my whole life, until I can keep silent +no longer. And now, Lillian, that you have heard all, +what will you do?”</p> + +<p>Her face froze over like a marble mask.</p> + +<p>“Denounce my father’s murderer, and give him up to +justice!” she said, in a low, stern voice.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span></p> + +<p>Richard Raleigh shuddered.</p> + +<p>“Lillian, listen. The secret is ours. No one else in +the wide world, but you and I, has any knowledge of his +crime. Shall <i>I</i> denounce him, or shall <i>you</i>? You did +care for him once; but you shall, if you wish, deliver him +over into the cruel hands of the law.”</p> + +<p>She covered her face with her hands, sobbing and trembling +in a weak, womanish way.</p> + +<p>“I can not—I can not!” she sobbed, bitterly. “No, +no; a thousand times no! I will not speak! I will die before +I will denounce Jack Lyndon! I can not believe it; +it is all false—false—false!”</p> + +<p>Richard Raleigh took her hand in his.</p> + +<p>“It is true, Lillian; and because it is true I am going +to denounce him to the authorities—Jack Lyndon, the +murderer of your father!”</p> + +<p>She started up with a low cry.</p> + +<p>“You shall not! You shall not, Richard Raleigh!”</p> + +<p>“I must. Justice demands it.”</p> + +<p>“You shall not! You must not!” wringing her hands +in wild beseeching. “Have pity—have mercy! My brain +is reeling—I know not what I say. <i>Only spare him!</i> I—I +loved him once—loved my father’s murderer! Oh, +God! And I stood beside my father’s body and vowed to +deliver his murderer up to justice! What a weak—pitifully +weak wretch I am!”</p> + +<p>“You are a woman, consequently weak in resolution +where one you love is concerned. Let me do it, Lillian! +I will deliver Jack Lyndon into the hands of the law. I +<i>must</i>; it is my duty.”</p> + +<p>“Richard”—calling him by his name, in a voice full of +heart-break, seizing his hand in both her burning palms—“listen +to me. If you do this thing—if you persist in this +determination—if you denounce Jack Lyndon to the authorities, +I will take my own life!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span></p> + +<p>For just a moment, silence—awful silence; then Richard +caught the girl’s slight, trembling form in his arms and +held her close against his breast.</p> + +<p>“Darling, I love you! My God, how I love you!” he +panted. “Be mine, Lillian—be my wife, loved and honored; +the wife of Richard Raleigh, only son of Grafton +Raleigh, millionaire. It is no position to scorn. Be my +wife, Lillian, and I swear to let Jack Lyndon go free, to +hold my peace, and leave him to God and his own conscience! +Refuse me, and I will—I must—let the law take +its course! But I prefer to give up the pursuit, to let remorse +do its own work in Jack Lyndon’s breast—a +Nemesis to hunt him down. Believe me, Lillian, if the +dead—the holy dead—can behold us, he, your departed +father, will approve—would say, if his dumb lips were unsealed: +‘Daughter, forego vengeance. Leave that to +Heaven.’”</p> + +<p>He paused and gazed around him in the pale moonshine. +What ailed the moonlight? It seemed to grow suddenly +dim and obscure, as though the moon were in an eclipse. A +strange chill had crept into the air; an awful unseen presence +seemed to stand at their sides. Lillian glanced up +with a convulsive shudder.</p> + +<p>“Who called me?” she cried, wildly. “Mr. Raleigh, +I swear to you I heard my father’s voice—my dear, dead, +murdered father call clearly, distinctly, ‘Lillian!’”</p> + +<p>He caught her to his heart once more. She had no +strength left to repulse him now.</p> + +<p>“Superstitious child!” he cried. “Darling, my life is +in your hands; what are you going to do with it? Think +it all over, and let me know your decision. Be my wife at +once, and be lifted out of this poverty. You need not fear +my parents’ displeasure; I know how to win their consent, +and I swear before high Heaven, I swear before my +Maker, by all my hopes of happiness, to let Jack Lyndon +go free and unaccused! Will you consider it, Lillian, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span> +give me your answer to-morrow? Meet me at this place +at ten to-morrow night. Will you come, Lillian?”</p> + +<p>Her face was as pale as death, her eyes full of heart-break.</p> + +<p>“Yes; I will be here with my answer to-morrow night +at ten,” she returned, mechanically.</p> + +<p>She slipped away and up the path like a wild creature, +back to the house, and fled upstairs to Miss Raleigh’s +chamber, where she threw herself down upon the rug before +the fire, shivering violently. Not a word did she utter. +Her heart was in a tumult, her brain seemed on fire. +The closing of the outer door of the house aroused her at +last, and she knew that Jack was gone. Click! click! +came the sound of high heels, and a little later Miss Raleigh +entered her room. Her face was all aglow with triumph +as she sunk into an easy-chair.</p> + +<p>“Come and take off my shoes, Lillian,” she commanded. +“I feel like sitting up till morning, for I am +just too happy to sleep! Oh, Lillian! I must tell somebody, +or my heart will burst with its burden of gladness! +Lillian, Jack Lyndon has asked me to be his wife; and, +poor though he is, I love him, and have accepted him. +He loves me so dearly—so very dearly, Lillian—and he has +loved me so long, but feared to speak before. Lillian!”—with +a voice full of horror—“look!”</p> + +<p>She had started to her feet with a gasp of terror. All of +a sudden the gas-light had begun to grow dim and burn +with a faint, blue, unearthly glow. And then—<i>then</i>—the +door of the round room opened slowly—slowly—and there, +upon the threshold, pale and wan and pathetic, with one +hand pressed upon her heart, and great, sad, dark eyes +lifted to Miss Raleigh’s horrified face with a look of wild +beseeching—stood the apparition of Noisette.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">A GUILTY CONSCIENCE.</p> + + +<p>Rosamond Raleigh’s blue eyes grew black as night as +they stared in wildest terror into the face of the apparition.</p> + +<p>A convulsive tremor crept over her frame. She fell +back a few paces and lifted her hands with a maddened +gesture.</p> + +<p>“Keep back! keep back!” she shrieked. “My God! +am I never to be free from this horrible thing? Lillian—look—for +the love of Heaven, look!”</p> + +<p>Lillian had been standing all this time, white and wild-eyed, +gazing before her upon the awful sight. She turned +aside with a low groan.</p> + +<p>“Miss Raleigh, it is really true”—the girl’s voice was +low and faint—“you are—you must be—haunted! I have +never believed in such things before, but I can not doubt +the evidence of my own eyesight upon so many occasions. +I, of course, have never seen the young girl Noisette +Duval, but you seem to recognize her.”</p> + +<p>“Recognize her!” with a hysterical laugh. “I should +think so indeed. Even that endless painting upon which +she is always working is familiar to me. She died, stricken +down by heart disease, in the round room yonder, while +engaged in painting poppies and vine leaves upon an +amber satin panel for a ball-dress—just the loveliest thing. +Oh, Lillian!”—bursting into a flood of hysterical tears—“I +have never been able to wear amber—<i>so</i> becoming to +me, too—since that day. There—thank Heaven, it is +gone!” sinking into a seat with a sigh of intense relief.</p> + +<p>Lillian came slowly forward and removed Miss Raleigh’s +dainty kid boots, substituting velvet slippers; and then, +Rosamond having donned a comfortable wrapper, Lillian +began her nightly task of brushing out her long yellow<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span> +hair. She was silent and sad; her heart lay quivering on +her breast, bowed down with that awful weight of dull anguish +and despair. Surely she was but a foot-ball of fate. +What a burden for such young shoulders to bear! Yet she +must bear it and be silent—for the present at least.</p> + +<p>And while her heart was aching madly in her breast she +stood and brushed out the silky hair of the idle, contemptuous +beauty who was going to marry the man whom Lillian +Leigh loved—the man who, with unheard-of fickleness, +had asked her to marry him only that morning, and +then at night had besought—oh, the irony of fate!—the +woman who employed her as waiting-maid—servant—to +be his wife. Could such perfidy be possible?</p> + +<p>There is not a woman in the world who will fail to understand +the emotions which racked the poor girl’s heart +as these thoughts rushed through it like a torrent. Love—deep +and devoted love—which at the same time was full +of scorn and contempt; despair, anguish unutterable, yet +all the time the pride of a woman to uphold her. Ah! +woman’s pride—woman’s pride! When God made woman +weak and loving, with such utter self-abnegation in her +love, He gave her also the delicate, sensitive instinct which +keeps many a woman’s feet from by and forbidden paths. +The pride which is part of a woman’s nature will sustain +and uphold her ofttimes when nothing else will. There +are women—Heaven help them!—who have nothing left +them but their womanly pride. Pure and cold as snow and +hard as adamant, it stands like a glittering wall of ice between +her and the world. That pride was all that Lillian +Leigh had to lean upon now, in her hour of darkness. It +was her rock and her defense in time of trouble.</p> + +<p>“I shall be married soon,” observed Rosamond, complacently, +yet glancing furtively about her with frightened +eyes; “for if I remain much longer in this house I shall +die of fright. Of course Jack has but small means, but I +have money enough for us both, and—”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span></p> + +<p>“And he will consent to live upon your money?” burst +forth Lillian, impetuously. “Miss Raleigh, I could never +respect a man who would do that!”</p> + +<p>Miss Raleigh’s thin lip curled with a condescending +smile.</p> + +<p>“My dear Lillian, you have not been asked to respect +Mr. Lyndon. And as for living upon my money—that +question lies between ourselves solely and absolutely. Mr. +Lyndon is not accountable to you, or <i>any</i> of my servants, +I hope!”</p> + +<p>Lillian made no reply. The hot blood rushed to her +white face in a surging flood; then it receded, leaving her +pale as death.</p> + +<p>“May I go now, Miss Raleigh?” she asked, wistfully. +“See, the clock’s hands are pointing to one; and I am +very tired.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, go!” ungraciously. “I imagine that I shall not +be disturbed again to-night. I must devise some plan to +get rid of or outwit this ghostly visitant—to guard +against its reappearance. I <i>must</i> put a stop to it!”</p> + +<p>She started as the audacious words passed her lips, her +face took on a deathly pallor, and her eyes dilated with +sudden horror. Surely that was a laugh—a low, sweet, +mocking laugh which had fallen upon the silence as though +defying her to do her worst. Rosamond fell back into the +chair from which she had just arisen, and sat clutching +wildly at its carved arms.</p> + +<p>“Lillian, as surely as you live, that was Noisette’s voice—Noisette’s +laugh. I remember it well, although she +seldom laughed aloud. She was a grave, quiet, taciturn +girl—one who had little to say, and was never demonstrative +or merry. Yet I swear that was Noisette Duval who +laughed then as though in derision. Don’t go to bed now, +Lillian, for Heaven’s sake! I will not stay here alone now. +No, I will retire, and you may go after I am asleep. I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span> +will take a sedative, and will be sound asleep in a short +time.”</p> + +<p>Utterly selfish, the cruel woman did not pause to reflect +upon the terrors which Lillian was suffering. The poor +girl was timid and nervous as any other woman would +have been under the circumstances, and she longed to +reach the privacy of her own chamber—longed intensely to +be alone, to stare her sad future in the face. But the +woman unfortunate enough to be employed by Rosamond +Raleigh was allowed no time to weep over her own sorrows.</p> + +<p>Rosamond hurriedly prepared herself for bed; then she +went to an Indian cabinet which stood in all the glory of +quaint carving in one corner of the room, and opening it, +took a bottle from one of the shelves. The vial bore a +suggestive label—two cross-bones surmounted by a grinning +skull, and below, in large letters, “Chloral—<i>Poison!</i>”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Miss Raleigh,” interposed Lillian, “surely you +will not take that? It might kill you.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense, you little goose! I always take it when I +am disturbed at night. It is the only thing that makes +me sleep.”</p> + +<p>She took a golden spoon from the cabinet and dropped +a few drops of the chloral into some water, then hastily +swallowing the dose, she returned the vial to the cabinet +and retired for the night. Five minutes later she was +wrapped in a heavy, sluggish slumber.</p> + +<p>Free at last, Lillian turned the gas down to the faintest +glimmer, and at last sought her own room. The fire had +gone out, the lamp burned low. She went straight to bed +and lay there all the rest of the night, her eyes wide open, +while she tried to stare her future in the face. The pale +gray light of dawn creeping in at the window found her +still sleepless; but at last she sunk into an unquiet sleep +which lasted until the dressing-bell rang.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span></p> + +<p>She awoke with a start, and, pale and spiritless, arose +and made her simple toilet. With light footsteps she entered +Miss Raleigh’s sleeping-room. Rosamond lay sleeping +soundly, so Lillian dropped the shades over the windows, +extinguished the gas, and softly withdrew.</p> + +<p>One day—only one brief day, and then she must give +Richard Raleigh his answer. Her whole future hung +trembling in the balance, and before the sun should set +that night her decision must be made.</p> + +<p>Coming down-stairs on her way to the conservatory to +gather a bouquet for Rosamond’s boudoir, Lillian accidentally +encountered the master of the house. His face +looked pale and grave, and there was an air of preoccupation +about the pompous millionaire which she had never +observed before. To her amazement, at sight of her, Mr. +Raleigh stopped short, and a smile from which she shrunk +involuntarily crossed his lips.</p> + +<p>“Ah, good-morning, Miss Leigh,” he said, pleasantly, +unctuously. “How are you this fine morning? I am +afraid that you are working too hard. You look pale—too +pale, Lillian. I do not wish you to be overworked, and +really the work is unsuited for you. We will find you +something better—something better,” with a smile and a +pat of the girl’s soft hand which he had taken in his own. +“This occupation is entirely out of place,” resumed the +millionaire, blandly; “this is no business for Gilbert +Leigh’s daughter—no, indeed! It is a shame that you +should hold a position of this kind in my household, and I +mean to put an end to it.”</p> + +<p>Utterly overwhelmed, Lillian could only bow and murmur +something unintelligible in regard to his kindness, +and then she withdrew her hand and hurried to the conservatory, +feeling very uncomfortable and far from easy in +her mind. Grafton Raleigh had never noticed her before, +save in a chance encounter in the hall or some of the +rooms, when the stiffest of bows would be all the notice<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span> +ever vouchsafed by him to his daughter’s waiting-maid. +Lillian did not like this sudden change of demeanor, and +she hurriedly gathered her flowers and retreated up the +stairs, with a vague terror creeping into her heart, a feeling +that some new calamity was threatening her.</p> + +<p>The breakfast hour in the handsome breakfast-room +found Mrs. Raleigh, her husband and son, alone at the +table.</p> + +<p>“I wonder what keeps Rosamond so late?” observed +Richard, turning over the pile of letters beside his plate.</p> + +<p>His father frowned.</p> + +<p>“That girl is getting altogether too indolent!” he observed. +“And I do think she keeps that little maid of +hers up half the night, Helen!”—turning swiftly to his +wife at the head of the table, behind the silver urn. “I +insist that you inquire into this matter. The girl is no +common servant, remember, and she may astonish you +some day.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh favored her husband with a long, comprehensive +stare.</p> + +<p>“Well, I declare,” she burst forth, indignantly, “wonders +will never cease! My daughter’s waiting-maid must +indeed be possessed of rare graces to have attracted the attention +of the fastidious Grafton Raleigh. Rest assured—Ah, +there comes Rosamond now! The poor child has had +a bad night. I can see that at a glance.”</p> + +<p>The door of the breakfast-room had swung slowly open, +and Rosamond, in a pale-blue wrapper which made her +pale face look even more death-like, glided into the room. +She was wan and haggard, and there were dark circles beneath +her eyes. At sight of her, her mother’s face grew +stern.</p> + +<p>“Rosamond”—in a reproving voice—“you have been +taking chloral again.”</p> + +<p>Rosamond halted just within the door, which she closed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span> +behind her. She glanced into her mother’s face as she +burst forth in a shrill treble:</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have been taking it, and I shall be compelled +to resort to it every night or never sleep again on earth if +something is not done to relieve me of the visitations from +which I suffer. Papa—mamma! it is the truth, so help +me Heaven! I am haunted—haunted by the spirit of +Noisette Duval. I am never safe from it. It comes when +I am sad and when I am cheerful; it comes at night and +at day; when I am alone and when Lillian is present! +And, papa”—wringing her hands nervously—“I have +concluded to ask—to beg of you—permission to have the +round room closed up forever. Will you consent, papa?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Raleigh sneered and frowned and objected, but he +ended by being overruled. Before noon of that day half +a dozen workmen were busily engaged in sealing up the +pretty octagonal chamber. The door of communication +between it and Rosamond’s sleeping-room was removed, +the aperture closed, and the wall papered to correspond with +the rest of the room. The door leading into the hall was +also removed, and when the work was completed Rosamond +congratulated herself upon having completely exorcised +the spirit which so persistently haunted her.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">MISJUDGED.</p> + + +<p>Silence in the conservatory, where we left Senator Van +Alstyne standing, red and angry, in the presence of the +stranger who was also his guest.</p> + +<p>The two men stood silently regarding each other. Van +Alstyne’s ferret-like eyes glowed with a lurid light, an unpleasant +sneer curled his sensual lip, half hidden by the +long, carefully kept mustache.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vernon, still hanging on the senator’s arm, glanced<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span> +from one to the other, and thoroughly enjoyed the situation.</p> + +<p>Van Alstyne bowed coldly, stiffly.</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon, sir. There is some mistake, +doubtless;” the irate senator spoke with ill-concealed disgust; +“but I have not the—ahem!—honor of your acquaintance, +Mr.—”</p> + +<p>“Fayne, sir—Cyril Fayne,” with quite as cold a salute +as the senator himself had bestowed, and upon his matchless +face a look of utter contempt and scorn.</p> + +<p>So this was the man who had bought Lenore Vane with +his gold. This creature who possessed so little of the true +refinement of a gentleman that he would not receive a +guest who was unknown to him with the calm courtesy +due from one gentleman to another under any circumstances. +And that Cyril Fayne was a gentleman was as +patent to the observer as that Van Van Alstyne was not.</p> + +<p>Low under his breath Cyril Fayne was muttering softly:</p> + +<p>“Heaven help her! Her burden has been hard to bear. +Poor Lenore—poor heart-broken Lenore! Curses upon +the man—the man whom I believed years ago to be my +friend, and who is to blame for all this misery! All the +sorrow and anguish of our parting, and the seventeen +long, dark, bitter years which lie between that time and +now. Curse him! Wherever he is, I shall find him if he +is still above ground. All her happiness blighted; all the +best of my life spoiled; all the woe and anguish that have +been mine until now—though I am not old, for I have +seen but forty years—I feel as if my whole life had come +to an end!”</p> + +<p>And while these thoughts were rushing through his +brain, he was standing still as a statue, while Van Van +Alstyne’s eyes were searching his face with an ill-bred +stare which at last became more than Cyril Fayne could +endure.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span></p> + +<p>“Possibly Senator Van Alstyne recognizes an old acquaintance +in me!” he suggested, mockingly.</p> + +<p>Van Alstyne’s red face grew purple with rage.</p> + +<p>“No, I do not!” he cried, vehemently; “and I must +say that my wife shows deuced small respect for her husband—her +protector—by Jove! her lord and master—to +receive men at her reception who are not only strangers to +me, but whom she does not trouble herself to present to +me!”</p> + +<p>“Your wife!”</p> + +<p>The two words fell like stones from Fayne’s lips; and +the moment they were spoken he realized that he had +made a mistake.</p> + +<p>Senator Van Alstyne stared for a moment, too astonished +to utter a word; then bristling with rage, he drew a +step nearer, and Heaven only knows what atrocity might +have been perpetrated, but down came a tiny gloved hand +upon his arm, and a sweet voice cried, gayly:</p> + +<p>“Come, senator, you promised to show me the datura! +Now, don’t stand here squabbling over nothing, I beg of +you! Of course Lenore—Mrs. Van Alstyne—will make +everything clear. Dear me! if Mr. Vernon should make +such a fuss over every gentleman whom I invite to our +house without consulting his royal highness, he would live +in a tumult for sure. Van Van Alstyne, you are as jealous +as a Turk. Now, if I were your wife—”</p> + +<p>The fascinating Mrs. Vernon possessed more influence +over the doughty senator than any other living creature. +Fayne bowed coldly and stepped aside for them to pass. +While down went the senator’s iron-gray head, and his +thick lips touched the gloved hand resting upon his arm, +while he whispered, softly:</p> + +<p>“If you were my wife! Oh, Bessie, if you only were!”</p> + +<p>And thus you will perceive that senators, and even married +senators, are not quite impervious to a little flirtation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span> +with a pretty woman. And it is possible that, while they +are so particular that their wives should be like Cæsar’s +better half, “above suspicion,” the lives of many a public +man are not beyond reproach. Van Van Alstyne’s creed +was that a man can do as he feels inclined; a woman +must conduct herself as she is directed. One creed for +the man and another for the woman, and, of course, no +equality. In this case the superiority was all upon one +side, not the senator’s. And there are many men like +Van Van Alstyne.</p> + +<p>As soon as Cyril Fayne had disappeared, Mrs. Vernon +lifted her great black velvety eyes with their belladonna +brilliance and their delicately painted lids to the face of +the man at her side with an affectation of child-like innocence.</p> + +<p>“Where did dear Lenore disappear to?” she queried, +sweetly. “Didn’t you see her when we entered the conservatory? +No? Is it possible? Why, I saw her in close +conversation with that delightful Mr. Fayne. I say, Van, +he is delightful, isn’t he? No? Oh, you horrid creature! +Of course, I don’t consider any man so nice as—as—you,” +giggling like a school-girl. “There now, I am certain I +see Lenore. Yes, to be sure. Nobody else wears white +velvet, point lace, and such diamonds as Senator Van +Alstyne’s lovely wife. And if there is not such a costume +as I describe seated over yonder—there, by the banksia +roses—then I’m a kitten, that’s all! Ah, Mrs. Van Alstyne,” +as they suddenly appeared before Lenore, who +glanced up with a swift start, “we have been looking for +you everywhere. Why did you not present that handsome +Mr. Fayne? You ought not to be so selfish as to +keep him all to yourself, when half the ladies in the drawing-room +yonder are just dying to know him. But the +senator and I hunted him up and down, and Mr. Van Alstyne +introduced himself, and we found that he is Mr. Cyril +Fayne. So your pretty little mystery is a mystery no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span> +longer. Lenore! Mrs. Van Alstyne! you are ill—you are +going to faint!”</p> + +<p>Lenore lifted her heavy eyes, and passed one hand over +her brow as though to relieve the dull pain which was +throbbing in her temples.</p> + +<p>“Ill? No, no!” she gasped, feebly. “What were you +saying, Mrs. Vernon, about—about some gentleman—Mr.—”</p> + +<p>“Cyril Fayne,” supplemented Mrs. Vernon, promptly; +“at least, so he introduced himself. Your husband has +made his acquaintance, after a fashion. I do not imagine +that they love each other very dearly, however. Certainly +not a case of love at first sight.”</p> + +<p>“Hardly!” growled the senator. “Why, the fellow +actually sneered when I spoke of you, Lenore, as my +wife! There! Bessie, she has fainted.”</p> + +<p>Lenore had started to her feet, and then, with a long, +quivering sigh, had fallen back into the chair once more, +pale and still.</p> + +<p>“Hush!” commanded Van Alstyne, as his companion +evinced signs of excitement. “Be still, will you? I +don’t want the whole crowd out yonder to gather in here—and +the story would go the rounds of the newspapers to-morrow, +with some infernal lie tacked on to it. Just hold +her head, Bessie, while I get some water from the fountain +yonder and bathe her head. Chafe her wrists a little. +Gently—there!”</p> + +<p>He hastened to the tiny fountain splashing dreamily +into a marble basin, and soon returned with a silver cup +full of its perfumed water. As he approached the recumbent +form of his wife, Mrs. Vernon dropped something +which she had been holding in her hand, with a hasty +glance in his direction—and Van Van Alstyne did not +know that the appearance of haste was assumed on purpose +to excite his curiosity. He stepped swiftly to her +side.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span></p> + +<p>“What is it, Bessie?” he asked, cautiously.</p> + +<p>She smiled.</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing that you have not seen before, I dare +say,” she returned. “Only a medallion that Lenore +wears about her neck.”</p> + +<p>His red face flushed a deeper crimson.</p> + +<p>“A medallion! I never gave it to her,” he panted. +“Let me see it, Mrs. Vernon.”</p> + +<p>And before Bessie Vernon could stop him—if she had +wished to—he drew forth from its hiding-place about +Lenore’s white throat, a black onyx locket in the shape of +a medallion. An instant later he pressed the spring and +the lid flew open. One glance, and with a hoarse cry of +rage and jealous wrath too deep for articulate expression, +Van Van Alstyne dropped into the nearest seat, and sat +staring helplessly into Mrs. Vernon’s face. She laughed +lightly.</p> + +<p>“Ah! so you see that your cold, white marble women +are not always as immaculate as they appear!” she +sneered. “Lenore Van Alstyne is so good, so awfully, +fearfully good! She will never flirt, or do anything just a +little ‘off;’ she preaches domestic felicity—a regular +Darby and Joan sort of existence; she frowns severely +upon poor me because I like to flirt and am gay and full +of life; and all the time, night and day, she wears about +her neck, hidden from view, the portrait of a man who is +not her husband. Do you see, Van Van Alstyne? This +little thin chain to which the medallion is attached is +riveted on. And do you recognize the face of the portrait? +It is the face of Mr. Cyril Fayne.”</p> + +<p>Silence—perfect silence. An awful tempest was raging +within the man’s soul. He stood still as death. There +was no sign of life save the slow rising and falling of his +chest. His face was ghastly white; his under lip bleeding +from the ferocity with which he had gnawed it; his hands +were clinched fiercely together. He took a step in Lenore’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span> +direction, where she still lay, white and unconscious, +rigid as though life were extinct. He lifted his strong +right hand as though to strike her in all her helplessness. +Swiftly the hand was uplifted, slowly it fell to his side +once more. A strange expression crept over his face; an +awful resolution settled down upon it like a mask. He +turned, and his eyes met Bessie Vernon’s. He smiled. +It was bad to see that cold, cruel smile.</p> + +<p>“I will not touch her!” he muttered, hoarsely. “Put +the trinket back where you found it, under the lace at her +throat, Bessie; and keep your tongue still over this unpleasant +scene, or—or I will make you sorry for it. We +will let Mrs. Lenore Van Alstyne go on in her own road +and say nothing at present. But the day will come—the +day will surely come when she will wish that she had died +to-night—here—now.”</p> + +<p>He turned upon his heel and left the conservatory, Mrs. +Vernon, with a scared look upon her pretty face, following +closely in his wake. She felt like a child who has been +playing with fire which suddenly burst forth into a conflagration +which nothing could subdue.</p> + +<p>And poor Lenore—poor wronged Lenore! who was innocent +of sin, if only he had known or would have believed +it, lay there still unconscious, like one dead. Better +for her if she had been!</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">THE DIE IS CAST.</p> + + +<p>Nine! boomed from the big clock in a neighboring +steeple; nine! tinkled musically from the gilded time-piece +in Miss Raleigh’s boudoir.</p> + +<p>Lillian started up with a cry of dismay, and the lace-work +with which she had been risking her eyesight fell +from her hands to the floor.</p> + +<p>“One hour more,” she murmured, faintly, “only one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span> +hour more, and then I must give Richard Raleigh his answer. +Oh, Heaven, help and pity me!”</p> + +<p>She was all alone in the dainty boudoir, for Rosamond +was below in the drawing-room, entertaining a few guests—Mrs. +Vernon and one or two more of Rosamond’s particular +friends. And she was expecting Jack. Of course +he would come, and then there would be an interview—a +private interview—with papa in the library, and the poor +journalist would ask for the hand of the millionaire’s +daughter.</p> + +<p>“And if papa refuses,” thought Rosamond, “for Jack +is not rich, and papa may object—I—I shall marry him +anyway! I am of age, fortunately.”</p> + +<p>And then there flitted through her brain the thought of +poverty, even though genteel poverty, with the man she +loved, and her heart grew faint and sick within her breast.</p> + +<p>“I could not bear to be poor!” she muttered, with a +shudder of aversion. “I just could not endure it.”</p> + +<p>And she sat in the drawing-room attired in a soft gray +satin gown with a great deal of white lace, a subdued, +Quakerish costume, quaint and becoming, and chatted +with Bessie Vernon and the rest, and all the time her heart +was listening for a ring at the door-bell, the sound of a +familiar step in the hall.</p> + +<p>“Rosamond,” whispered Mrs. Vernon, after awhile, “I +have something to tell you—something rich! Are you engaged +for twelve to-morrow? No?” as Rosamond shook +her head in the negative. “Then I will call and see you. +I want to tell you something, but you must be sure and +never mention it, never, as long as you live. It is something +about Lenore Van Alstyne.”</p> + +<p>Rosamond started.</p> + +<p>“Very well, I shall expect you to-morrow. And you +may rely upon my secrecy, Bessie.”</p> + +<p>And then Mrs. Vernon’s carriage was announced, and +Mrs. Vernon took her departure, with a whispered reminder<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span> +to her hostess of the morrow’s engagement. And +then the other callers left. Still Jack Lyndon had not +made his appearance. What did it mean?</p> + +<p>Feeling restless and uneasy, full of a strange disquiet, +Rosamond threw a wrap about her shoulders and went out +into the grounds. A glorious moonlight night. She +wandered slowly down the nearest walk, and at last found +herself in the vicinity of the east gate.</p> + +<p>“I wonder what Rick meant by being out here last +night with Lillian?” she muttered. “Some mischief, I +have no doubt. But I don’t care what happens if only he +keeps her away from Jack. I firmly believe that Jack +cared for her; but I will kill her before she takes him +from me.”</p> + +<p>She came to a halt with a start of surprise. She had +nearly reached the east gate, and her quick eyes had +caught sight of two dark forms.</p> + +<p>Just at that moment the clock in the steeple struck ten.</p> + +<p>“I declare!” panted Miss Raleigh, in a low, wrathful +voice, “it is Rick and that girl again. Now, this is too +much—too much altogether. Papa would be so angry if +he knew.”</p> + +<p>Even as she gazed upon the scene Richard Raleigh took +Lillian’s slight form in his arms and kissed her unresisting +lips.</p> + +<p>Miss Raleigh could endure no more. She darted swiftly +forward and confronted the pair in the radiant moonlight, +pale and wrathful.</p> + +<p>“You shameless creature!” she panted, bringing her +hand down upon Lillian’s shoulder with a fierce grip. +“You shall leave my employ at once—this very night! +As for you, Richard Raleigh, I shall tell papa of your +shameful conduct, this moment—this very moment, sir, +and he will settle with you. The idea of a disgraceful +affair like this going on right under our very eyes!”</p> + +<p>And before Lillian could recover from her bewilderment,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span> +Rosamond turned swiftly about, and rushed like a +mad woman back to the house. She burst into the drawing-room +quite pale with excitement, and she came to a +startled halt as her eyes fell upon Jack Lyndon. He had +been closeted all the evening with Grafton Raleigh, though +Rosamond had not suspected his presence in the house; +and now in the drawing-room—the interview over—they +sat conversing with Mrs. Raleigh and waiting for Rosamond +to appear.</p> + +<p>There was a hurried greeting, after which Rosamond, +pale and excited, turned to her father.</p> + +<p>“Papa—mamma, I beg your pardon, and Mr. Lyndon’s +also, for rushing in upon you in this fashion. But really +I must speak or you may reproach me for my silence later +on. Papa, last night I saw your son, Richard Raleigh, +down at the east gate, where he had evidently gone by appointment +to meet my waiting-maid, Lillian Leigh. To-night +I walked out into the grounds. I felt lonely,” with +a glance of tender reproach into Jack’s startled face, +“and chancing to walk in the same direction, I saw them +there again. And, papa, Richard had that girl in his +arms and—was actually kissing her!”</p> + +<p>“Rosamond!” This from Mrs. Raleigh.</p> + +<p>But the master of the house uttered no word. Pale and +faint, Jack Lyndon leaned heavily against the marble +mantel, supporting his head upon his hand and waiting +for what was to come next.</p> + +<p>“Mamma, it is true. Do not look so angry. It is not +my fault. But I consider his conduct shameful—shameful! +And that girl is a bold, shameless creature, not fit to +be in the house with refined ladies. She is—”</p> + +<p>“Hush! Not another word, Rosamond Raleigh!” She +wheeled about swiftly, and there upon the threshold stood +her brother, and at his side, pale and trembling, Lillian +Leigh. “Not another word!” repeated Richard Raleigh, +fiercely—“or you shall answer to me for your insults!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span> +Father, I have good news to tell you. I have asked Lillian +to be my wife, and she has consented.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">A TRYING ORDEAL.</p> + + +<p>It was as still as death in the luxurious drawing-room—the +sudden, awful silence of the grave itself, so intense +that it was almost palpable. It was broken at last by +Helen Raleigh’s cold, cutting, imperious voice:</p> + +<p>“Grafton,” her hard eyes uplifted to her husband’s +face, “you are master here. I desire you to put an end +to this shameful, disgraceful scene. Your son—my son,” +with a hysterical sob, “who dares stand there and insult +his own mother—I demand that he be punished as he deserves. +And as for you,” she glided swiftly over to where +Lillian stood, pale as marble and trembling like a leaf, +and brought one white, jeweled hand down with a grip of +iron upon the girl’s shrinking shoulder, “leave my house +this moment, you miserable little wretch—you beggar! +Begone, I say, or I shall—”</p> + +<p>“Mother—stop! Not another word!” Richard Raleigh’s +face was pale as death and his eyes flashed ominously. +“I command you to be silent. This lady is my +promised wife, and as such I swear that she shall be respected! +Father, are you never going to speak?”</p> + +<p>Grafton Raleigh wheeled about and confronted his astonished +wife.</p> + +<p>“Helen,” his voice was low and stern, “cease this +tirade at once. Richard is right, and—and”—in a whisper—“he +has reasons—good reasons—for the step. The +girl is placed in a position which she is not fitted to fill,” +he went on, in a louder tone. “She is pure and lovely; +and Richard—ahem!—loves her, and she—ahem!—loves +Richard, and I have promised not to interfere. I do not +see—I do not see why they should not marry.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh could only stand and stare blankly into +her husband’s flushed face. Sinking at last upon a velvet +sofa, she still sat in blank, wordless silence, too overwhelmed +to speak—too crushed by the suddenness of the +blow to find words to utter. At last:</p> + +<p>“Great heavens! am I mad, or am I dreaming? Grafton +Raleigh, are you in your senses? You, Grafton Raleigh, +millionaire—you, who have just listened quietly to +the proposal for the hand of your only daughter from a +beggarly journalist,” Jack Lyndon bowed mockingly, +“you, who have listened, I say,” went on the irate lady, +“and have decided to give him a chance to win Rosamond, +your only daughter—”</p> + +<p>A pause during which Rosamond flashed a swift glance +into the pale face of her prospective betrothed, but failed +to see any ecstatic joy mirrored upon his countenance. +Mrs. Raleigh continued:</p> + +<p>“You now permit your son—your only son—to say such +words to a servant-girl—a common servant-girl—your +daughter’s waiting-maid! Your son, who might have had +his choice of half a dozen wealthy and fashionable women! +Grafton Raleigh, if I did not believe—ay, know that you +had gone mad—I would promise you to be revenged for +this. But you are out of your senses, and I must be patient +as possible. But I can not be patient!” she sobbed, +starting to her feet and beginning to pace up and down +the great room with nervous tread. “I shall die! I—shall—die! +Oh, somebody do something for me—quick! +I am going to faint—to die—to—die!”</p> + +<p>And then followed an attack of hysterics which prostrated +the irate mother entirely, and made Jack Lyndon +cast wistful glances toward the door, through which for +the present he dared not attempt to escape. After a little +Mrs. Raleigh’s maid appeared and the patient was carried +up to her own room, and a physician telephoned for, +after which silence settled down once more.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span></p> + +<p>Pale and still, the group in the drawing-room below +stood gazing into each other’s faces. Jack was the first to +break the strange, oppressive silence. He walked straight +up to Lillian and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>“Allow me to congratulate you, Miss Leigh,” he said, +in a cold, hard voice. “You have done the best thing +possible—for yourself.”</p> + +<p>Lillian’s eyes flashed, she bowed coldly, but she did not +seem to notice his offered hand. She could not take it. +She could not shake hands with the man whom Richard +Raleigh had accused of her father’s murder. With a +shudder she turned aside, then she forced herself to glance +back into his face again.</p> + +<p>“And you,” she returned, quietly, her face pale with +righteous indignation, “may you be as happy as you deserve.”</p> + +<p>He turned away, pale and trembling, and with a brief, +comprehensive good-night to the others, left the room.</p> + +<p>Rosamond followed him into the hall.</p> + +<p>“Jack,” in a low tone, “I am not yet clear as to the +result of your interview with papa. He said—”</p> + +<p>“That he would make no objection for the present—would +let affairs take their own course, etc., etc.; but he +stipulates that there shall be no engagement, and that the +matter be kept secret for a year. Only I may call as +often as I please, and be looked upon as an honored guest, +and all that sort of thing, while you are to be left untrammeled. +If any other suitor appears with more money, +more brains, more good looks than I possess—”</p> + +<p>“Jack!” in a tone of protest, and with a girlish giggle +Rosamond threw herself into his arms.</p> + +<p>For just a moment he submitted to the embrace, shutting +his teeth down fiercely into his under lip; then he removed +her clinging arms and turned toward the door.</p> + +<p>“I must go, Rosamond,” he said, firmly. “I am expected +down at the office for a good six hours’ work.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span></p> + +<p>“Poor fellow!” in a tone of tender compassion; “that +shall soon be a thing of the past. For, of course, we shall +be married some time, Jack, and—and then you need +never work again.” He shuddered. “And it is absurd +in papa,” she went on, vehemently, “to impose such conditions +upon us. As though I could ever care for any one +else. And if a richer suitor should make his appearance”—“Heaven +grant it!” was Jack’s mental ejaculation—“it +would make no difference to me, Jack, I assure you. Ah, +must you go? Good-night, then.”</p> + +<p>And a pair of thin lips were held up suggestively, so +what could Jack do but bend his handsome head and touch +them lightly with his own?</p> + +<p>The first kiss! But, alas! Jack Lyndon was thinking +even then of the lips which he had kissed only the morning +before—or was it a century ago?</p> + +<p>Sick and faint and heart-weary, he closed the door of +the Raleigh mansion behind him and went down the +street, pale and wan, his eyes full of moody light. He +looked like a desperate gambler who has staked his all +upon one throw of the dice—and lost.</p> + +<p>“I hope to Heaven some wealthy suitor will come along +and win her from me,” muttered this strange lover +hoarsely, as he strode on down the broad, aristocratic avenue, +back to the office of the “Thunderer.” “What a +sham—what a miserable sham I am!” he burst forth, impetuously, +“to ask a man for his daughter in marriage, +hoping all the time that he will refuse me. And I actually +believed that Grafton Raleigh almost suspected it, or +he would hardly have listened so graciously to a proposal +for Rosamond’s hand from a poor devil of a writer. Ah, +me! I can only leave it to time and fate. How beautiful +she was to-night!” he went on, suddenly breaking the +silence which had fallen over him; “the woman who has +blighted my faith in all womankind, and has caused me to +make shipwreck of my whole life! She loved me only a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span> +few hours ago!” he added, bitterly. “Yesterday she told +me with tears in her eyes and kisses upon my lips that she +loved me. To-night she is betrothed to a millionaire’s +son. Good God! I would give my life to know the truth, +and why she has changed so! Bah! what a fool I am! As +though it were anything but the glittering bait which +Richard Raleigh holds out to her! Yesterday morning +she did not know that he meant marriage, so the poor +newspaper scribbler was in favor. To-night there is the +prospect of life in a fine house, with servants and jewels +and costly dresses—bah! all that goes to make up a woman’s +heaven—and for these she turns her back upon love +and me, and accepts the glittering future. But one thing +puzzles me.”</p> + +<p>He came to a halt upon the deserted streets, and stood +staring blankly through the semi-darkness.</p> + +<p>“Why should Richard Raleigh wish to marry a poor +girl like Lillian Leigh?” he went on, slowly. “And he +really means honorable marriage, or he would never have +taken the bold step of presenting her to his family as his +betrothed wife. And why—why is Grafton Raleigh, the +purse-proud millionaire, so resigned? Nay, more—I +firmly believe that he is willing—is even pleased; for I +surprised a look of intense satisfaction and relief upon his +face while he listened to Richard’s words. Ah, well, it is +a mystery to me,” he went on, as he plunged into the +gloom of the nearest street corner and hastened on down-town—“a +mystery which I may never unravel. But, for +my own part, I am the most miserable man alive, and the +sooner the Gordian knot of life is cut the better for me!”</p> + +<p>In the meantime, a terrible scene was taking place at +the Raleigh mansion. Mrs. Raleigh, recovered from the +hysterics, was still able to enact the rôle of the injured +mother, the insulted and outraged lady, and she spared no +words to impress upon her hearers the full enormity of the +crime from which she was suffering.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span></p> + +<p>“A common servant-girl!” she panted, angrily, pacing +madly up and down her handsome chamber, whither her +husband and Rosamond had followed her. “A working-girl—daughter +of one of my husband’s employees! A low-born +creature like that to be the wife of my son—my +handsome Richard—who might have his choice among the +ladies of the land! Grafton, I can not endure it!” she +shrieked, madly. “Drive that girl from the house—I +command you! She shall not remain here! I hate her—hate +her! I hate her pretty baby face and silly ways, her +cat-like deceit, her snaky way of winding herself about +everybody’s heart but mine! Ah, no! not mine—nor +Rosamond’s! We are women, and we know a bad, designing +woman—a base adventuress—when we see one. It +takes a woman to know a woman’s real nature, I tell you, +Grafton Raleigh.”</p> + +<p>“On the principle that it takes a thief to catch a thief, +I presume,” intervened that gentleman, dryly. “Now, +Mrs. Raleigh, are you done? Have you finished your +tirade? If so, then perhaps—possibly you may listen to +me. For I have something to say to you and also to my +daughter—a revelation to make. Richard and I have +been hiding something—an important discovery—from +you both, for our own private reasons. Mrs. Raleigh—Rosamond—listen +both of you. How would you like—how +would you both like—to be poor? Poor! Not simply +deprived of extravagances—a few extra jewels, an unnecessary +servant, a useless superfluity of some sort; but poor—plainly, +horribly, uncompromisingly poor? How would +you like to live on a back street in a six-room cottage, and +be your own servants, and exist without jewels, walk +instead of drive in your carriage with liveried footman, +forego Newport, Saratoga, and all that? How would you +like to give up Jack Lyndon, Rosamond? For, of course, +without money that marriage is off. Answer me, both of +you, how would you like to be poverty-stricken paupers?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh’s eyes were riveted upon Grafton Raleigh’s +pale, earnest face.</p> + +<p>“You are mad!” she was beginning.</p> + +<p>He bowed.</p> + +<p>“So you have remarked before, madame!” he interrupted, +coldly. “I repeat my question, how would you +like to be poor? Now listen. The great house of Raleigh +& Raleigh stands upon the verge of ruin, and although it +may sound absurd and incredible to you, there are reasons—real, +tangible reasons—why a marriage with this girl +will obviate all this; will save us from ruin—utter ruin +and black disgrace—a disgrace which will tempt you to +end your lives to escape its obloquy; a disgrace which +would turn Jack Lyndon from you, Rosamond, and would +make our best friend pass us by. I can explain no further +now; you must take my simple word for it. But if +Richard Raleigh does not make that girl Lillian Leigh his +wife, and soon, we will all be beggars, and I—I shall die +in prison, the death of a felon!”</p> + +<p>He paused to mop the cold perspiration from his clammy +forehead with his handkerchief. He was as pale as +death, and trembled visibly.</p> + +<p>“Now, Helen Raleigh,” he continued, glancing into his +wife’s white, startled face with fierce, eager eyes, “will +you keep on with your senseless ravings, or will you make +the best of the situation and consent to the marriage without +asking me unpleasant and troublesome questions? will +you relieve us from the scandal of a marriage without +your consent? in short, will you save us from ruin, disgrace, +and me from a felon’s death?”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">A SNAKE IN THE GRASS.</p> + + +<p>The music surged in sweet, soft strains, the dancers +danced, and the moments went by. And still the mistress<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span> +of all this splendor lay white and unconscious upon the +low seat in the conservatory, where the banksia roses were +heaped in great clusters, and the dreamy splashing of the +little fountain not far away alone broke the silence. Out +in the ball-room Senator Van Alstyne was dancing with +Mrs. Vernon. Her face was flushed with triumph, and her +eyes held a look of exultation in their black, velvety depths.</p> + +<p>“I will be even with Lenore Van Alstyne yet!” she was +muttering low under her breath. “I will pay her off for +her cold, calm superiority over me—her airs and graces, +her assumption of goodness! I hate her, the stuck-up, +haughty creature. I have always suspected that there was +something hidden—a secret in her life—which she would +not like the world to know. I am sure of it now. I shall +tell Rosamond all about it, and if between us we can not +punish and humiliate my lady, then I imagine nobody +can.”</p> + +<p>And the black, velvety eyes shone like diamonds, and +the pretty face was full of eager exultation at the thought—the +alluring prospect of blackening and defiling a sister +woman’s name, and dragging her down into the dust of +shame and humiliation. Lenore was pure and true and +noble, though the victim of strange circumstances. And +this woman—who was no more to be compared with her +than the bright blue, sunshiny summer day can compare +with the black, cold, tempestuous winter’s night—this +woman had power to drag her down from her pedestal of +innocence, simply because Bessie Vernon was unprincipled, +and had set her whole heart upon the ruination of Lenore, +whom she hated with that hatred of her own sex which is +a woman’s Cross of Honor—such women as Bessie Vernon. +And as she floated down the long room on the arm +of the senator, to the sweet waltz music, her thoughts were +busy with a scheme of vengeance.</p> + +<p>And the moments slipped by, and still Lenore did not +return to consciousness. Mrs. Vernon had wandered away<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span> +to the furthest extremity of the drawing-room, and alone, +for a wonder, was watching the conservatory with furtive, +cat-like eyes; but still Lenore lay in that death-like swoon +in the secluded corner among the banksia roses, and the +guests did not dream the truth.</p> + +<p>At length a tall form emerged from the depths of the +fernery just beyond the main conservatory, separated by a +screen of luxuriant flowering vines, and slowly approached +the unconscious woman. It was Cyril Fayne; his face +white and set, his eyes full of smoldering light which was +not good to see. He looked like a man who is bent upon +some desperate errand as he came swiftly forward and fell +upon his knees at her side.</p> + +<p>“She is dead—my love, my wife!” he panted, hoarsely. +“Lenore! Lenore! Open your eyes, my darling, and +tell me that you love me, and will go with me at once—this +very night!”</p> + +<p>Slowly the soft dark eyes opened and met his eager, impassioned +gaze. She half arose, putting out her hands in +a pleading, beseeching way.</p> + +<p>“Don’t! Oh, Cyril! do not let them hear you!” she +cried. “He would listen to no explanation; he would put +a bullet into your heart without a moment’s hesitation. +And if he knew all—if he knew—”</p> + +<p>She stopped short, breathing hard, like one in pain. +Cyril Fayne started.</p> + +<p>“He shall know—he must know soon!” he panted, +softly. “I will only wait for this affair to be ended and +the guests dispersed; then I will demand a private interview +with Senator Van Alstyne. Lenore, my darling, I +am going to take you away from this place—away from the +awful position that you are filling—not your fault, my +love! but it must end now—at once, before another sun +shall set. Think of the horrors of your position—this +sham existence must end at once! Let it be to-morrow +night. Ah! I have a better plan. We need say nothing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span> +to him until all is over with; we would only make a terrible +scene; and once away from here, we will be with each +other, never more to part! You shall learn all the dark +and dreary past, Lenore—the truth of our long parting. I +have written a full confession and explanation for you to +read before you join your fate with mine. Take this and +read it at your leisure,” he added, swiftly, drawing a letter +from his pocket and laying it in her trembling hand.</p> + +<p>“We must be silent as the grave,” he went on, hurriedly; +“keep our own counsel, and all will yet be well. +Lenore, you can not, must not, live on in this way a day +longer, now that you know the truth. Go with me to-morrow +night. I will meet you at any place you may +designate, and we will take passage for Europe at once. +Does that please you, Lenore?”</p> + +<p>She smiled, a sad, dreary smile it was, yet her eyes were +full of tenderness.</p> + +<p>“Anywhere with you, Cyril,” she whispered. “Oh, to +be with you always, after all these long years, will be like +heaven.”</p> + +<p>“Then will you go away with me to-morrow night?” he +panted, eagerly. “I will defer my explanation until we +are gone; then Van Alstyne shall receive a written statement, +with all necessary proofs of the truth, and you +will be out of his way, so that the horrors of his anger +shall not fall upon your head. And he is so violent and +brutal, it is best for you to be gone before he learns the +truth, and that it is no sin. The sin would be in remaining, +Lenore!” She bowed her head like a beautiful white +lily—drooping and pale. “You will go with me?” he +went on, eagerly; “there is no other resource; and—surely +you are willing, Lenore?”</p> + +<p>“Willing?”</p> + +<p>She started to her feet, pale and trembling with excitement, +her hands clasped, her eyes shining like stars.</p> + +<p>“Willing? Oh, Cyril! Ask a starving, freezing wretch<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span> +if he is willing to be taken to a warm, luxurious home, +with every comfort; ask a dying consumptive if he would +be glad to have his health and strength again; ask the +bleeding, fainting heart if it would be happy with the one +it loves—and you will have my answer. Yes, yes; a thousand +times yes. As the old German song says:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verse indent0">“‘To be with you—that’s my heaven:</div> +<div class="verse indent2">Without you—that’s my hell.’</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>And I have been cast out into utter darkness, and my life +has been desolate and barren long enough. I am going to +accept the cup of happiness held to my lips, and thank God +for the love that has come back to me—Heaven be praised, +not too late!”</p> + +<p>He drew her to his side and kissed the red lips with a +long, lingering kiss.</p> + +<p>“My love! my love!” he cried; “you are mine—mine +by the laws of heaven and earth! Thank God for that. +Now, Lenore, tell me, where shall I meet you to-morrow +night? The ‘Caspian’ sails the next morning; she is +anchored out at sea. We can go on board my friend +Thornton’s yacht at any hour you name to-morrow night, +and he will take us out to where the ‘Caspian’ lies. Once +on board her, we are safe. Tell me what hour to meet you, +Lenore.”</p> + +<p>She bent her head for a moment in deep thought.</p> + +<p>“We entertain again to-morrow night,” she said, slowly. +“Van Alstyne would fill his house every night if it were +feasible. To-morrow at eight we give a dinner to some +foreign embassadors and half a dozen bewhiskered, beribboned +officers—a score of guests. I can manage to slip +away unobserved from the house at ten, perhaps, and will +meet you in the grounds down by the ornamental lake. +You can easily find the place; there is a marble basin full +of gold-fish, and the water is white with pond-lilies. Be +there at ten precisely, Cyril, and I will join you as soon as +possible.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span></p> + +<p>“Prepared to go with me at once?” he queried, breathlessly.</p> + +<p>A quick flush shot athwart the ivory whiteness of her +face and a tender light stole into her luminous eyes.</p> + +<p>“Prepared to go with you? Yes,” she made answer. +“My life here must come to an end. Oh, Heaven! if it +had only come to an end long ago, or, better still, had +never begun. I hate and scorn and loathe myself, Cyril, +and oh—”</p> + +<p>She stopped short, and her face grew ghastly white.</p> + +<p>“Stay!” she whispered, hoarsely, “I have something +to tell you—a revelation to make, Cyril. Listen: I must +tell it quickly, for my guests will miss me, and I must +leave you now.”</p> + +<p>She whispered a few words in his ear.</p> + +<p>He grew pale as death, then he stooped and kissed her.</p> + +<p>“How you have suffered, oh, my love!” he cried; +“but all that is ended now. Good-night, Lenore. I will +meet you to-morrow night at the ornamental lake in the +Van Alstyne grounds at ten precisely, and then—”</p> + +<p>His voice died away into a murmur. He stole from the +conservatory into the grounds through a side door which +opened for him; and then, pale as a marble statue, Lenore +went back to her guests.</p> + +<p>As soon as she was gone there was a rustling among a +group of tall, feathery palms which grew near, and directly +afterward a slight, <i>petite</i> figure in auburn satin and lace and +gleaming, glowing rubies crept slowly forth. It was Bessie +Vernon. Her face was flushed with unholy triumph, +her eyes were scintillating with hatred.</p> + +<p>She had witnessed the entire interview; but they had +spoken in such low tones that she had not caught the conversation, +only the last few words which told of the appointed +tryst.</p> + +<p>Her white hands clinched themselves tightly together, +and low under her breath she muttered, hoarsely:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span></p> + +<p>“He kissed her! I saw him. And they are to meet +to-morrow night at ten, in the grounds. My dear Mrs. +Van Alstyne, immaculate Lenore! when that meeting +takes place I shall be there also!”</p> + +<p>And then she went back to the ball-room, and danced +all the rest of the night, with as much carelessness and +<i>abandon</i> as though she were not plotting the downfall of a +sister woman.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">“BEWARE!”</p> + + +<p>The clocks throughout the Raleigh mansion were just +striking twelve the day after that exciting scene within its +stately walls when the door bell rang, and Rosamond heard +the sound of Bessie Vernon’s voice in the hall. She had +given orders to the footman to show Mrs. Vernon up to +her own room; so a few moments later that lady, in all +the glory of a stylish brown velvet street suit, a big +plumed hat shading her arch, piquant face, entered Miss +Raleigh’s presence and sunk wearily into a seat.</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, I am tired to death!” she cried, when the +greetings were over; “the demands of society are fearful +upon a weak, delicate woman like me! You know, Rosamond, +how we leaders of society are overworked. Why, +we are perfect martyrs. I have attended five balls this +week, the opera and theater, a flower show and a matinée. +To-night is the Van Alstyne dinner, and to-morrow night +I have promised to hear ‘Il Trovatore’ with Vernon’s old +uncle, the rich Californian. Awful bore, and I know the +opera by heart; but Charlie Stuart will be there, and I +imagine I shall be able to pull through the evening. You +did not appear at the Van Alstyne’s reception, Rosamond? +I forgot to ask you why last night when I called, on my +way to the reception, you know. I thought then that I +had something to tell you—but, dear me! I went straight<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span> +to the discovery of developments of a startling nature. I +wish you had been there, Rosamond.”</p> + +<p>Rosamond looked bored. She was out of temper this +morning, that was plain to be seen.</p> + +<p>“Mamma and I had a previous engagement,” she said, +coldly, “and were compelled to decline. But tell me, +Bessie, what it is that you have discovered? I am just dying +to know. Something about Lenore—I think you intimated.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vernon’s face assumed a look of awful solemnity.</p> + +<p>“I shrink from telling you, Rosamond!” she said, in a +stage whisper. “After all, Lenore is your own cousin, +and it may have an influence upon your social standing.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Bessie Vernon?” Rosamond +started to her feet, pale with anger. “Explain yourself!” +she commanded imperiously.</p> + +<p>Bessie laughed aloud, a clear, ringing, half-mocking +laugh.</p> + +<p>“Dear, dear! High tragedy and all that sort of thing! +Beats Janauschek completely! Now, Rosamond, just be +calm, and sit down quietly and listen to me. What I said, +I meant; but you will understand me better later on when +I have told my story. First, let me ask you a question: +Have you ever heard of a Mr. Fayne—Mr. Cyril Fayne?”</p> + +<p>Rosamond started uneasily.</p> + +<p>“I have heard the name, I believe,” she returned, +evasively.</p> + +<p>“Well, then, possibly you may be better informed than +I, and perhaps be able to account for the strange—the <i>remarkable</i> +intimacy between Mr. Cyril Fayne and Mrs. +Lenore Van Alstyne.”</p> + +<p>“Bessie!”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Lenore Van Alstyne!” repeated Bessie, laconically. +“Rosamond, we are on the track at last of your +cousin’s secret. We have long been convinced—you and I—that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span> +she had a secret, and I have found it out. That +secret is her love—her guilty love—for Cyril Fayne!”</p> + +<p>A slow, cruel smile crept over Rosamond’s fair face; her +eyes flashed with a look which was neither sorrow nor regret; +one small, pearly hand clinched itself involuntarily.</p> + +<p>“Go on,” she said, slowly.</p> + +<p>Bessie nodded.</p> + +<p>“I was going on. I am prepared to tell the whole story—just +what I know and saw and heard. I know that +Lenore Van Alstyne wears Cyril Fayne’s portrait in a medallion—the +chain riveted about her neck. I saw them +alone together in the conservatory at Van Alstyne’s; she +was in his arms, and he was kissing her for all he was +worth! And lastly, I heard them lay a plot to elope to-night! +There! What do you think of that?”</p> + +<p>For a moment Rosamond Raleigh sat staring her visitor +in the face, in blank horror too deep for expression.</p> + +<p>At last:</p> + +<p>“Bessie, this is—it must be—a practical joke of your +own. And I think it very small in you, and decidedly bad +form, knowing as you do how proud the Raleighs are.”</p> + +<p>Bessie’s face flushed angrily.</p> + +<p>“It is no practical joke, I assure you, Rosamond Raleigh!” +she retorted. “And if you doubt me I can easily +prove the truth of my words. You will be at the Van +Alstyne dinner to-night, I suppose. It is the dinner for +the foreign embassadors. I would not miss it for the +world.”</p> + +<p>Rosamond nodded.</p> + +<p>“Of course we will have to attend, since we were not at +the reception. And what is your plan, Bessie?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vernon bent her head close to Rosamond’s ear and +began to speak in low, cautious tones. When her story +was done she rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>“And now I really must go. I’ve some shopping to +do, and time is flying. What do you think of my plan,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span> +Rosamond? Don’t you think it will be a grand <i>exposé</i>? +Ah! I have waited and longed for this for many a long +day. My time has come at last. There was never any love +lost between Lenore Van Alstyne and myself, and I imagine +that you know how to appreciate the situation also; +for if I am not mistaken, you never loved her!”</p> + +<p>“I hate her!” cried Rosamond, excitedly. “I have +hated her always, and of late her cold, calm superiority +has driven me nearly wild. I would give something to put +down her pride and humble her as she deserves. All right, +Bessie. We will be at the Van Alstynes’ to-night, and +then the curtain will rise upon the overthrow—the everlasting +disgrace and utter ruin of Lenore Van Alstyne.”</p> + +<p>As the words left her lips she turned swiftly about. +Something like a chill seemed creeping slowly over her, +and a strange, subtle instinct warned her of another presence +in the room. <i>What was it?</i></p> + +<p>She caught her breath with a gasp of horror, then shriek +after shriek burst from her lips. For there before her—for +bolts nor bars have no power over spirits—stood the +apparition which had so persistently haunted her, and of +which she had fondly persuaded herself she was rid forever—Noisette!</p> + +<p>She held the amber satin panel in one shadowy hand; +the other was uplifted with a warning gesture; upon the +wan, white, shadowy face a look of angry menace. Slowly +the pale lips opened and—oh, it was horrible to witness—the +apparition spoke.</p> + +<p>“<i>Lenore!</i>” it said, in a hollow voice. Then, after a +moment’s pause, one more word broke the awful silence. +That one word was: “<i>Beware!</i>”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">BESSIE SEES THE GAME.</p> + + +<p>“Rosamond! For the love of Heaven, <i>what is it?</i>”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vernon stood like one turned to stone; her big dark +eyes, dilated with horror, fixed wildly upon the apparition.</p> + +<p>“What—is—it?” she gasped once more, in a faltering +whisper.</p> + +<p>No answer—no answer. Rosamond stood, wringing her +hands in horror and affright, screaming like a lunatic. +One more glance, and Bessie Vernon turned and fled, with +Rosamond close at her heels—fled from the room and down +the stairs, bursting into the library, where Grafton Raleigh +sat deeply engrossed in the contents of a formidable-looking +document before him. Bursting into the room, they +sunk down upon a low couch, too overcome by terror to +utter a word. “The wicked flee when no man pursueth.” +Grafton Raleigh glanced up with a start of surprise at the +interruption—this unceremonious bursting in upon his +privacy—and arose to his feet, his face dark with displeasure.</p> + +<p>“Good-morning, Mrs. Vernon”—in a cold tone. +“Why, what is the matter with my daughter? Rosamond, +are you mad?”</p> + +<p>“Mad?” with a hysterical outburst. “No, no! But +I shall be mad indeed before long if that dreadful apparition +continues to appear. Oh, papa, listen! You had the +round room closed up, and no one can get in or out of it, +yet I saw just now in my room, standing just where the +communicating door used to be, the apparition—the <i>something</i> +of which I have been telling you so long. And Bessie +saw it also.”</p> + +<p>“It is true, Mr. Raleigh, and no mistake about it!” +corroborated Mrs. Vernon. “I saw it just as certainly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span> +and distinctly as I ever saw anything in my life—just as +plainly as I see you at this moment! And—worse than +all else—it—”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, papa!” interrupted Rosamond, trembling +like a leaf and weeping copiously—“something dreadful +occurred! Something which has never happened before! +It—it—<i>spoke</i>!”</p> + +<p>“Rosamond, now really this is going a little too far. +Bessie, I had imagined you possessed a little common sense, +if Rosamond is deficient. Do you mean to assert that you +too saw an apparition in this house in broad daylight, and +that it—the thing—<i>spoke</i> intelligibly?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raleigh, it did!” This from Bessie.</p> + +<p>“Papa, it really did!” repeated Rosamond, wildly. +“It spoke two words—one was ‘Beware!’ the other was +‘Lenore!’ We were speaking of Lenore at the time the +apparition appeared—Bessie and I.”</p> + +<p>“Lenore? You must have misunderstood, daughter. +I—I—can’t believe it.”</p> + +<p>“Papa”—desperately—“it is the truth! And we were +not mistaken; we could not be. I suppose it is gone now, +and if you were to go up to my room you would not find +it. But I swear to you there is no mistake or exaggeration +in our story; it is all just as we have told you. I wish you +could see for yourself; and then, I suppose, you would believe.”</p> + +<p>“I will take possession of your room,” he said, decidedly, +“and will remain there for a time. Each day hereafter +I will make it my business to spend a portion of the +day there to watch, and perhaps I shall be able to get at +the root of the mystery.”</p> + +<p>“But it only appears to <i>me</i>!” sobbed Rosamond, wringing +her hands again and again. “It seems to have an +especial spite against me—though if any one is with me in +the room they always see it too. Papa, papa! I can not +stay in this house. Let me go away for a time at least—let<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span> +me go home with Bessie for a few days. I will die if I +am forced to remain here, liable to meet that horrible thing +and—and—hear it speak!”</p> + +<p>And poor Rosamond sobbed aloud in uncontrollable +terror and nervous fear.</p> + +<p>“Yes, come home with me, Rosie!” intervened Mrs. +Vernon, her face lighting up at once. “We will have a +pleasant time; and I am expecting some guests from New +York, and I really need an attraction like you, Rosie. And +besides”—in a low tone—“old Arbuthnot, the millionaire, +is to be with us for a few days. Fancy the opportunity +for <i>you</i>, Rosamond, to be shut up in the same house +with him for perhaps a whole week! They <i>do</i> say that he +is as rich as Crœsus! <i>Do</i> come home with me, dear!”</p> + +<p>So it was finally arranged, and then Rosamond went to +inform her mother and order a trunk packed; for even +one week’s stay necessitated much baggage. Upstairs to +her mother’s room she made her way, passing her own door +with a perceptible shudder. She found Mrs. Raleigh lounging +before the fire in a low chair, her hands folded listlessly +in her lap. In a few moments the strange story was +told, and Rosamond announced her intended departure. +Mrs. Raleigh, gazing upon her daughter’s pale, worn face +and great frightened eyes with dark circles beneath, and +thinking of her desperate resort to chloral or some such +drug, was only too glad to consent. But she sighed sadly.</p> + +<p>“I see but little for which to live; small hope in life!” +she cried, in a shrill voice; “my son, my boy, my idol to +be sacrificed to a foolish whim of your father’s. Rosamond, +last night when your father told us that horrible +story—of prospective poverty and disgrace—I thought then +that all life was ended for me. But now you are doomed. +I am convinced that your intellect is giving way. You +are a perfect wreck of what you were a few weeks ago. +You are beginning to look old and faded. Yes, go to Bessie +Vernon’s if you like; it would kill you to remain here,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span> +haunted as you are. I have never believed in such things +before in my life. I have always looked upon such tales +as foolish superstitions, or falsehoods got up for the purpose +of frightening timid people, and altogether unworthy +a sensible person’s notice. But I declare, Rosamond, it is +exceedingly strange and incomprehensible, to say the least. +I always told you to be more careful in your treatment of +Noisette. You were unwarrantably harsh and cruel, and +you are being punished for it now. But what puzzles me +most is that you and Bess should have heard the apparition +speak the name of Lenore. What does it, can it, +mean?”</p> + +<p>“Mamma, do you remember when she—Noisette—lay +dead, and I—I—saw the resemblance between her and +Lenore Van Alstyne? Mamma, I tell you I have heard +something to-day which proves to me that she is not the +immaculate angel that people think her. I will tell you +later on all about it. But just now I am only anxious to +get away. I shall be insane if I stay here much longer and +suffer from this strange, this awful visitation. Where is +Lillian? I want a trunk packed at once.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh flashed angrily about.</p> + +<p>“Lillian, indeed!” she panted, wrathfully. “I hope +that you do not for a moment believe that you can retain +my Lady Leigh as a waiting-maid? Why, your fastidious +brother is going to commit matrimonial suicide in a few +weeks, I believe! Rosamond, we are a ruined family!”</p> + +<p>Rosamond’s eyes flashed with ominous fire. “Has she +left the house?” she demanded, fiercely.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh shook her head.</p> + +<p>“She is shut up in her own room. Your father informed +her that the whole house is at her disposal, and +that she can do as she pleases. It pleased her majesty to +lock herself up in her own room, and stay there. I wish”—savagely—“that +she would never come out alive!”</p> + +<p>“Amen!” responded Miss Raleigh, fervently. “Well,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span> +I suppose I can manage with the packing somehow; but I +can not go into that room alone, mamma!”</p> + +<p>At this obvious hint Mrs. Raleigh arose and accompanied +her daughter to her luxurious sleeping-room. She was +quite pale, and trembled with excitement. But they found +the room unoccupied by human or ghostly visitant, and +just as Rosamond had left it, save for one particular: +Upon a white fur rug which lay near the spot where the +apparition had been standing, there was a round red spot +of something which looked like fresh blood. Trembling +visibly, Mrs. Raleigh stooped to examine it; she drew back +with a frightened cry. There was nothing there.</p> + +<p>“Rosamond!” in a husky whisper, “this house <i>is</i> +haunted. I will try to induce your father to put it into the +market at once, for I declare I do not like to live in it. +But come now, daughter, do not look so terrified. I will +ring for my maid and have your trunk prepared. You +will go home with Bessie, and amid her gay surroundings +you will forget this unpleasant, uncomfortable affair.”</p> + +<p>Rosamond’s face lighted up with a slow gleam of interest.</p> + +<p>“And I will write a line to Jack at once,” she said, +“and tell him of my departure, so that he will call on me +at Bessie’s.”</p> + +<p>Her mother frowned.</p> + +<p>“If I were you I would give up that nonsense, Rosie,” +she ventured, in a low, earnest tone. “I heard yesterday +that old Arbuthnot is going to visit the Vernons. You +have heard of him, Rosamond, the railroad king? What a +triumph it would be to become Mrs. Arbuthnot!”</p> + +<p>“And give up Jack? Never, mamma! I have never +cared for any man before in my whole life!”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh shut her lips tightly together and sighed +dolorously.</p> + +<p>“Both my children gone mad over pretty faces!” she +ejaculated. “But I know Richard well enough to believe<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span> +that he has some ulterior object in this affair which will be +known to us later on. If that surmise be true—and I can +not doubt it after what your father said last night—why, we +can understand Richard’s seemingly unpardonable conduct. +But you, good gracious, Rosamond, you have no +sensible excuse for your folly, none in the world.”</p> + +<p>Rosamond’s thin lips were compressed closely, and a +dangerous gleam shone in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“We will not discuss it now, mamma,” she made answer. +“Wait until I come home again, though I do not +know that the idea of returning to this house is a very +lively one—at least, unless this supernatural visitation +should cease. And now ring for Felice, and let me get +ready. Bessie will be tired waiting.”</p> + +<p>But down in the library where she had tarried, Bessie +was occupying herself very much to her own satisfaction. +Some one had summoned Mr. Raleigh from the room, and +only waiting to place the document which had so engrossed +him in a drawer, he arose and left the library.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was gone, Mrs. Vernon crept swiftly over +to the escritoire, and stealthily opening the drawer, drew +forth the great yellow parchment with glaring red seals, +and opened it hastily. The first words which met her +eyes were these:</p> + +<p>“And to my niece, Lillian Leigh, I give, devise, and bequeath +all—”</p> + +<p>Footsteps in the hall without, the turning of the door-knob. +Bessie dropped the document back into the drawer, +and closing it, turned to confront Richard Raleigh. He +looked pale and handsome; but there was a triumphant +smile upon his lips, a lurking devil in his dusky eyes. As +they fell upon the lady he started.</p> + +<p>“Ah, Mrs. Vernon,” bowing lowly; “delighted to see +you.”</p> + +<p>And the hand which took Bessie’s in its grasp closed +down tightly upon her tiny fingers. “Mother has just informed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span> +me that Rosamond is to go to you for a few days,” +he continued. “Now, my dear Mrs. Vernon, surely you +will not shut a poor fellow out of your paradise? You will +let me come sometimes?”</p> + +<p>She laughed lightly.</p> + +<p>“As many times as you please,” she returned. “I +shall have some pretty ladies among my guests, and an +escort is always welcome.”</p> + +<p>Richard’s bold, black eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p>“But,” she added, softly, “what is this rumor—oh, a +little bird told me—about your own marriage?”</p> + +<p>His dark face flushed.</p> + +<p>“I have been caught in Cupid’s net!” he laughed, +“and may as well cry out <i>mea culpa</i> to that charge. Seriously, +Bessie—you used to let me call you Bessie—I am +intending to marry soon Miss Leigh. She is a poor girl, +but lovely. Coming, father!” he added, as his father’s +voice called his name.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later Bessie Vernon was alone in the library +once more, an odd smile upon her painted lips, her +eyes shining like stars.</p> + +<p>“Ah, ha! I see the game at last!” she muttered to herself. +“How stupid not to have seen it before.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">GREEK MEETS GREEK.</p> + + +<p>Richard Raleigh left the library at sound of his father’s +voice calling his name, and hastened to an adjacent +room where that gentleman awaited him. Grafton Raleigh’s +face was pale and troubled.</p> + +<p>“Get rid of that woman, Rick,” he said in a low, +cautious tone; “her eyes are everywhere at once. She +suspects something, and I believe she never took her eyes +off the—the document—after she had first observed it.”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span> +Richard started nervously. His father went on: “If she +once gets her curiosity aroused, you might as well attempt +to stay a tornado in its course as to check or restrain her. +Get her out of the library, if you can; go into the conservatory +and talk nonsense—Heaven knows she is always +ready enough to listen! and I will go back to the library +and remove the—the paper. You know Rosamond well +enough to compute the length of time that she will probably +keep Mrs. Vernon waiting—long enough to ruin us, +Rick, if she sees anything more to arouse her curiosity. +And that paper is so extremely conspicuous; and she and +Rosamond burst in upon me so unexpectedly that I had no +time to conceal it. I shall be more careful to lock the +door another time.”</p> + +<p>Pale and looking very uncomfortable, Richard retraced +his steps to the library. As he entered the room Bessie +had just arisen to her feet, about to return to her investigations +in the escritoire. At sound of the opening door +she started guiltily.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” she cried, as her eyes fell upon Richard, “you +are back again, and I am glad! I am tired waiting for +Rosamond. She is an unconscionably long time getting +ready!” pouting bewitchingly as she stood with her long +black eyelashes drooping over her great, velvety eyes—downcast, +as though unable to bear the look of plainly expressed +admiration from Richard Raleigh’s dusky orbs +riveted upon her.</p> + +<p>“Come into the conservatory, Bessie,” he pleaded. “I +want to talk to you.”</p> + +<p>She followed him as obediently as a child, and they entered +the conservatory together. Moving down the long +aisle between rows of bloom and verdure, she lifted her +eyes to his face, with a question in their innocent depths. +No one knew better than Bessie Vernon how to enact the +rôle of innocence and childishness.</p> + +<p>“How long has this little affair been going on, Richard,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span> +she asked, with assumed timidity, “this—this love +affair with Miss Leigh? By the way, have I ever met her? +The name sounds strangely familiar. Wasn’t there a +man by the name of Leigh killed a short time ago?”</p> + +<p>He fell backward with a suppressed cry, which ended in +an impatient exclamation as his foot came in contact with +a rustic jardinière which fell to the floor with a crash, depositing +a great glazed jar filled with lovely blue Mexican +torrinias upon the floor at his feet.</p> + +<p>Half angrily he stooped to rescue the plants. Then, +summoning the gardener, he left him to repair the damage, +and moved calmly away at Mrs. Vernon’s side, with as +much nonchalance as though a fifty-dollar jardinière and +a ruined collection of rare plants worth their weight in +gold to the connoisseur were matters of the greatest indifference +to him.</p> + +<p>“Now, Bessie,” in a low tone, as he led her away to a +retired nook amid great trailing rose-vines, “don’t annoy +me with your chaff about marrying a poor girl. If I +could have had my own way, I would have met another, a +sweeter fate. If I could have won the beautiful woman +whom I have admired above all others,” with a tender +gaze into her downcast, blushing face, a look which spoke +volumes, “then I would have had a chance at happiness. +But as it is,” with a deep sigh, “I must—I have—resigned +all hope; for she, alas! is the wife of another man!”</p> + +<p>“Rick!” in a tone of remonstrance, but at the same +time one little hand stole into his with a faint, wavering +touch, “you must not speak in that way. It is wrong, +awfully wrong; and what would Vernon say?”</p> + +<p>Richard smiled sadly.</p> + +<p>“He would say that he has had the best of it in the +race for the prize. Bessie, why did you not give me a +chance—half a chance—to win you?”</p> + +<p>She turned shyly away.</p> + +<p>“Don’t ask such foolish questions,” she returned.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span> +“Run away now like a good boy, and see if Rosamond is +ever coming.”</p> + +<p>“I will not.”</p> + +<p>He glanced furtively about. Barnes, the gardener, had +removed the <i>débris</i>, and quietly retired. They were alone +in that retired nook in the conservatory. Richard lifted +Mrs. Vernon’s hand to his lips.</p> + +<p>“No, I will not go and leave you!” he cried, eagerly. +“I have sought an interview with you for a long time, +Bessie, and sought in vain. This is my chance now, and I +am going to avail myself of it. Bessie! Bessie! don’t turn +away from me so coldly, sweetheart—”</p> + +<p>He sunk into a seat at her side, for she had seated herself +upon a carved divan amid the fragrant Maréchal Niel +roses, whose perfume loaded the air. He took her hand in +his and drew the dusky head down upon his shoulder. +She started up with a little cry.</p> + +<p>“Don’t! Oh, Rick, it is shameful in you! I—I have +always cared, of course. I might indeed have more than +liked you in time if—if—well, fate hadn’t decreed that I +should marry Arnold Vernon! It is too late now to talk +about it—too late!”</p> + +<p>The little sinner had never thought of such a thing as +marrying Richard Raleigh, or caring for him either, for +that matter, though she had known him all her life. But +the situation was strong, and the effect too much of a +temptation to be resisted. But Bessie Vernon was +destined to pay dearly for that moment of sentimental +folly.</p> + +<p>Richard sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>“You are Arnold Vernon’s wedded wife, and I—I am +going to marry Lillian Leigh!” he said, slowly.</p> + +<p>“Why should you?” she asked, softly; “you need not +marry any one, Richard, if you—do—not love her! And +I do not see what you gain by this marriage. She is a +poor girl!” with a swift, keen glance into his startled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span> +face, “and I see no object in marrying her at all if you do +not—if—you care a little for some one—else!”</p> + +<p>He smiled caressingly.</p> + +<p>“You are a dear little woman, Bessie,” he said, softly, +his dark eyes upon her face with bold admiration; “but +you do not understand a man’s heart. We are often compelled +to submit to much that is unpalatable, and forego +many joys that would make us happy if attainable.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verse indent0">“‘Much must be borne which is hard to bear;</div> +<div class="verse indent2">Much given away which it were sweet to keep,’</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Owen Meredith tells us; and Owen speaks from extended +experience. We have, all of us, to bear our burdens and +keep silent, and try to make as much out of this life as we +can. And you would not doom me to lasting loneliness, +Bessie?”</p> + +<p>“To be sure not. Hush! Is not that Rosamond coming +at last?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, confound her! So my blissful moment is over! +Bessie, I have something to say to you, and I must communicate +with you in some way. May I write to you? +Will you answer the letter? It will make me very happy +to confide my griefs to you, if you will permit me to +write.”</p> + +<p>Silence! Light footsteps drawing nearer and nearer, +and then a shrill voice, calling loudly:</p> + +<p>“Bessie! Bessie! where are you? I am ready and waiting.”</p> + +<p>“Answer me, Bessie. Will you reply to my letter? +Don’t refuse me. I swear you will never regret it. I +want your advice; and I must speak my mind for once, +for, oh! I have suffered! May I write? Will you reply?”</p> + +<p>The door of the conservatory opened, and Rosamond’s +eyes roved through the flower-scented place.</p> + +<p>“Bessie! Ah, yes, there you are! Well, come, dear; I +am all ready.”</p> + +<p>“Answer me!” reiterated Richard, in a low tone.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span> +“Yes or no? Rosie’s coming in—be quick! Which is it +to be?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>A gleam of devilish triumph flashed into his dusky eyes +and lighted up his face. He caught her hand in his and +pressed his lips upon it, and then Bessie Vernon arose.</p> + +<p>She was quite pale, and looked uneasy. Already conscience +was pricking her with its sharp sting, and reminding +her that she had done wrong. Yet it was only a brief +reminder, for Bessie Vernon was not troubled with an undue +amount of conscience.</p> + +<p>And then they joined Rosamond at the door of the conservatory, +and a little later the two ladies drove away to +the elegant home of the Vernons. And then Richard +went back to his father.</p> + +<p>Grafton Raleigh was waiting for his son in the library, +upon his pale face a look of perturbation.</p> + +<p>“Our fears are well founded,” he began, as soon as his +son had entered the room; “that meddling woman has +certainly been looking at that document! Why? Because +this is not the way in which I placed it in the drawer. I +remember perfectly, and indeed I was cautious enough to +place it in a certain position, that I might know if it +should be displaced. If only that fellow Buckley had not +called just then! I knew that his business with me was +urgent, or I would have declined seeing him. But he +saved me a hundred dollars by the call, for he gave me a +pointer which will prevent the loss of at least that much. +Yet it would have been better to have lost fifty times one +hundred than to let Bessie Vernon get hold of our secret. +The sly little cat! She is always where she isn’t wanted, +and it seems as if she were destined to find out all our +family affairs. Rick, I’m afraid of that woman.”</p> + +<p>“I am not.”</p> + +<p>Richard spoke quietly, but there was a meaning tone in +the low, soft, sneering voice.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span></p> + +<p>“Just leave all that to me, father, and I agree to close +Bessie Vernon’s lips effectually—so effectually that no +matter what happens she will not dare to speak. Don’t +ask me how or why. I have not wasted a moment of time +this morning. I know her nature; her insatiable love of +conquest, and her vanity which is never satisfied. I have +made hay while the sun shines; I have won her sympathy +through her overweening vanity, and I am not afraid of +Bessie Vernon or all that she may know. I am no more +afraid of any developments which she may make than I +am afraid of the wind. What troubles me in regard to +this deuced unpleasant business is, whether or no Lillian +has begun to suspect.”</p> + +<p>“The deuce! We had better be dead if that be true.”</p> + +<p>Richard nodded.</p> + +<p>“And so I say, father, that the sooner the marriage is +over, and she becomes my property, the better for our +cause. Shall I endeavor to bring about the marriage in a +few days?”</p> + +<p>“Days?” Grafton Raleigh started. “If you can—all +right, of course,” he returned, thoughtfully; “the sooner +the better. Can not you touch Lillian’s pride and arouse +her jealousy, so that she will be goaded into consent to an +immediate marriage?”</p> + +<p>Richard’s face grew grave.</p> + +<p>“I will send for her to come down to the drawing-room,” +he said. “She shall appoint our wedding-day at +once, and the sooner the better. I know how to manage +her; never fear, father! And—ahem!—I fancy I can +manage Bessie Vernon also.”</p> + +<p>He rang the bell, and when a servant appeared he sent +him to request Miss Leigh to come down to the drawing-room.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">IN AMBUSH.</p> + + +<p>“Come up to your room, Rosamond. See! I have +given you one across the hall from mine. Our guests will +arrive shortly, and Arnold is down in the drawing-room, +waiting with as much patience as a man usually bestows +upon his wife. Make haste, dear, and get off your wraps, +while I run down and pacify him.”</p> + +<p>And Bessie Vernon, just arrived at the handsome home +which claimed her as its mistress, flitted from the room.</p> + +<p>Rosamond laid aside her hat and wrap, and seated herself +before the cheerful fire in the pretty blue-and-gold +chamber—a triumph of modern art and æsthetic taste.</p> + +<p>“Jack will be surprised,” she said to herself, as she +leaned her head against the puffy blue satin chair-back +and closed her eyes languidly. “But he will call to-night +to join our party bound for the Van Alstyne dinner. And +after that—” She arose slowly to her feet, and moved +over to the window, her face full of triumph, and her eyes +shining with malice—the malice of a woman who hates another +with all her heart, and sees a way open to vent her +cruel spite upon her. “Ah! Lenore Van Alstyne,” she +hissed, bleakly, “you have had your day—my turn is +coming now. You have queened it over me in the past, +it is my hour of triumph now. I hate her—the cold, +proud, grand lady, who makes us all feel our inferiority; +but I shall be even with her yet. I see the way open before +me.”</p> + +<p>She hated Lenore with all the hatred of which her narrow +mind was capable. Her nature was cruel and vindictive, +and she would leave no stone unturned to humiliate +the woman so much her superior. A rap at the door of +her room made her turn swiftly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span></p> + +<p>“Let me in, Rosamond!” called Mrs. Vernon’s voice +through the key-hole. “I want to tell you something.”</p> + +<p>A little later Rosamond and her hostess were sitting before +the fire, while Bessie chattered volubly away.</p> + +<p>“He is coming here to-night, after the Van Alstyne +dinner—Mr. Arbuthnot, I mean, Rosamond—and, dear +me, you incorrigible girl! you pretend not to understand; +but I mean—here it is in plain English—I mean that you +shall marry him!”</p> + +<p>“Bessie!”</p> + +<p>“I mean that you shall become Mrs. Arbuthnot before +many months are past,” repeated Mrs. Vernon, impressively. +“Your coming here is just providential. I had +been wanting you here for Mr. Arbuthnot’s visit, and fate +has decreed that you should come.”</p> + +<p>“But, Bessie, I—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes! I suppose it is quite in order for you to respectfully +decline, etc., but all the same I will wager that +you will marry Mr. Arbuthnot. True, he is old, but +money, like charity, covers a multitude of sins and short-comings. +And, besides, you will stand a chance of being +a rich widow some day—a real queen—living in royal +state. In which case you will not forget your old friend +Bess. Eh, Rosamond?”</p> + +<p>Rosamond laughed uneasily.</p> + +<p>“You are speaking of impossibilities,” she returned, +coldly. “I may as well tell you now as later. My affections +are already engaged. I love one of the noblest men +in the world,” she added, with a tragical air.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vernon arose to her feet, and with both white +jeweled hands uplifted in dumb surprise, turned slowly +around upon one foot, like a revolving automaton, and +gazed full into Rosamond’s anxious face. Then she burst +into a peal of silvery laughter.</p> + +<p>“Rosamond, you are the funniest girl—just too awfully +funny for anything. Your affections! Who in the world<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span> +said anything about affections? I was speaking of marriage. +You love the noblest man, and so on. Dear, dear! +you’ll be the death of me, Rosamond! And, come what +may, I still adhere to my opinion that you will win old +Arbuthnot, the railroad king. He is already interested in +you. He saw you with me one day, when we were driving +in the park, and he asked me afterward who you were. +Said that he had never seen a more queenly lady, and that +there was something about you which reminded him of +the late Mrs. Arbuthnot.”</p> + +<p>Rosamond shuddered.</p> + +<p>“Don’t, Bessie!” she cried, angrily. “I will tell you +plainly that I—I care more for Mr. Lyndon than for any +man in the universe.”</p> + +<p>Bessie shrugged her shoulders with a gesture of mock +surprise.</p> + +<p>“The end of the world is at hand,” she exclaimed, +laughingly. “Now, Rosamond, you know as well as I +that you will never marry that newspaper scribbler—never! +No, not though you go to your grave unwedded, +which I am certain is an act of which you will never be +guilty. Why, it is perfectly laughable. The idea of you, +only daughter of Grafton Raleigh, millionaire, to think +seriously for one moment of a poor newspaper scribbler! +Of course I understand; it is merely a jest of yours, Rosie. +And now I am going to ring for refreshments. We will +have a cozy lunch together, after which it will be time to +dress for the affair at Van Alstyne’s.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The great dining-hall of the Van Alstyne mansion was +brilliantly illuminated. The sheen of light fell athwart +the long table with its glittering array of gold and silver, +and brought out into strong relief the gorgeous uniforms +of the foreign officers and the rich toilets of the ladies.</p> + +<p>At the head of the table sat Lenore, in a robe of rich +black lace, through which her snowy arms and shoulders<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span> +gleamed like polished marble. Inky black was the entire +costume, lighted up by the shimmering topaz ornaments +that she wore—yellow and uncanny. Her face was as +pale as death, save for a round red spot which looked like +the hectic flush of fever. Her eyes were calm and proud +as they swept the glittering assemblage, her red lips +slightly curling as though with utter scorn. Rosamond +and Mrs. Vernon watched her with furtive eyes. Rosamond +in pale-blue silk and white lace, Bessie in a bewildering +combination of scarlet and gold. Mr. Arbuthnot +had been duly presented to Rosamond, who saw before her +a red-faced, rather pompous-looking old man who seemed +to feel the dignity of his own position; and also he seemed +to be really attracted by Miss Raleigh’s charms. At last +the banquet was at an end, and the guests filed back to +the drawing-room. The clocks all over the great house +struck the hour of ten.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“Cyril, I am here.”</p> + +<p>“Lenore! Oh, I feared that something was wrong, +that all had been discovered and our flight prevented. +For it is better for you that we go away quietly. But, +Heaven be praised, you have come at last! My darling, +I have waited not so very long when the time is +computed by moments, but counted by the suffering of +suspense which I have endured, it has been an eternity. +Lenore, are you ready to go at once? Thornton’s yacht is +down in the harbor and the boat is waiting to take us +thither. You leave no regrets behind, Lenore?”</p> + +<p>She laughed, a low, scornful laugh.</p> + +<p>“Regrets? Good heavens! This is the real beginning +of my life! Cyril, I have taken nothing which that man +ever gave me. I have left my jewels, my wardrobe—all; +this plain merino dress was purchased with money of my +own, which I earned before I ever saw Van Van Alstyne. +Nothing of his goes with me. Come, I am ready. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span> +air of this place—his possessions—stifle me. You have +written the letter, Cyril?”</p> + +<p>“I have written the letter. Senator Van Alstyne will +find it in his room whenever he sees fit to enter it. And +then he will learn the whole truth, and he will know that +I am only claiming my own—that there is no sin—no +crime in the step which we are taking. Lenore, love of +my life, let us go!”</p> + +<p>In the shrubbery close beside them three dark forms +were crouching, watching the scene in perfect silence—Bessie +Vernon, Rosamond Raleigh, and Senator Van Alstyne.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">HER FLIGHT.</p> + + +<p>How still it was! Nothing to break the strange, uncanny +silence of the scene and the hour only the wind +moaning feebly in the tree-tops. The moon came forth +from behind a mass of fleecy white clouds, and gazed down +upon the group crouching in ambush—the three who had +hunted this woman down to gloat over her ruin.</p> + +<p>Cyril Fayne’s arms were about Lenore; her head rested +upon his breast. One brief pause of blissful silence, then +they flitted away through the shrubbery, in the pale radiance +of the moonlight, straight to a side gate which led +from the grounds.</p> + +<p>Not a word was spoken; not a sound betrayed the excitement +which quivered through the waiting group. Bessie +Vernon flashed about at last and clutched Rosamond’s +arm in a nervous grip.</p> + +<p>“Look at Van Alstyne!” she whispered. “He looks +like a galvanized corpse. Van Alstyne!” she called, +softly, “are you dumb or dead? Don’t you see that they +are going—gone? Why don’t you make your way around +to the front and intercept them? No doubt there is a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span> +carriage in waiting to take them away, and I happen to +know that Harvey Thornton’s yacht, ‘White Wings,’ is +in the bay. I suppose he has an object in anchoring +there. Van Alstyne! in the name of Heaven, why don’t +you do something? They will be gone; and if nothing is +done it will be too late to spoil their game and put an end +to their flight.”</p> + +<p>And it never once occurred to this volatile butterfly that +this man had planned deeper, more terrible revenge than +the mere circumvention of the plan of escape together +could ever have visited upon the two.</p> + +<p>Slowly Van Van Alstyne turned, and his eyes met the +gaze of the woman who had plotted so well and successfully. +Bessie shivered.</p> + +<p>“Don’t look at me like that!” she cried. “Go! You +have your revolver; I saw it in your hand a moment ago. +Why not use it? Not to—to kill—of course not; that +would be so dreadfully low and common—but it would +frighten them and make a scene. Then she will be disgraced +forever.”</p> + +<p>He turned slowly and faced her once more. He lifted +his right hand toward heaven—upon his face a look that +was bad to see. He had gnawed his under lip until the +blood was beginning to trickle down upon his stubbly +beard.</p> + +<p>“Curse her! Curse them both!” he hissed, bleakly. +“My curse follow them wherever they go! I curse them +living—I curse them dead! No, I shall not follow them, +Bessie Vernon; I shall remain where I am and let them +take their departure undisturbed. Their punishment will +be greater than my disgrace. Let us return to the house. +My plan of vengeance will soon be revealed to you. I +think it will satisfy even you.”</p> + +<p>The <i>dénouement</i> was so unexpected, this turn in affairs +something of which Bessie had not even dreamed, and for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span> +which she was totally unprepared, she could only stand +and stare blankly into Van Alstyne’s pale, resolute face.</p> + +<p>“I do not understand you,” she faltered. “How can +you punish her if you allow her to go on and elope with +the man of her choice? You might prevent the elopement, +and then you could have held the threat of public +exposure and disgrace over her head in future—for the +rest of her natural life. My word for it, she would rather +be dead than in your power in that way. She would have +been your slave henceforth; for in case of any insubordination, +a gentle reminder of her secret—in your power—would +bring my lady to her senses. Van Van Alstyne, I +don’t understand you. If Arnold were in your place now, +how he would rant and rave! He would be like a madman!”</p> + +<p>“But I am not Arnold Vernon, and if I were, I am +afraid I should do as I am doing now!” he returned, still +with that same ominous quiet in tone and manner. “You +will understand me later,” he added, with a grim smile. +“Believe me, Mrs. Vernon, I am quite competent to manage +this affair for myself. I advise you and Miss Raleigh +to return to the house now; I will follow directly. Ah, I +see young Stuart coming; he will escort you.”</p> + +<p>A tall, fair-haired young fellow, with great gray eyes +and an air of nonchalance, made his way through the +shrubbery and halted.</p> + +<p>“Hope I don’t intrude; eh, Mrs. Vernon? Regular +Paul Pry, am I not? Do let me take you back to the +house,” adding in a low tone, as Bessie promptly laid her +hand upon his arm: “We will go around by the longest +way.”</p> + +<p>Rosamond was taken in charge by a bewhiskered foreign +officer, and they all moved away together, leaving the +senator alone. His face was as white as the face of a dead +man; his hands were clinched fiercely together; he was +trembling in every limb.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span></p> + +<p>“Deserted!” he said, aloud, the word cutting in upon +the silence like a knife; “deserted, abandoned, defied, +made a mock of; I, senator and millionaire, one of the +richest men in the city, one whose word is law, and who +controls millions! Deserted by a pale-faced, trembling +woman because she does not, and never did, love me, but +loves another man! Ah—h!”</p> + +<p>He gnashed his teeth in impotent rage. His pride was +hurt, his self-love wounded, his vanity immolated, and he +stood like a skeleton stripped of its flesh, alone in a howling +wilderness, with only the vultures of social scorn to +prey upon him. Otherwise he was alone.</p> + +<p>“Alone!” he muttered, harshly, after a time. “Well, +I am no more alone now than when she was with me. For +we have always been apart. How I hate her for the contumely, +the shame, the humiliation that she has brought +upon my name! But I shall have revenge. If she were +here now, if she had returned to me a moment ago, or +should even yet come back, I would drag her into the +house which she has disgraced, into the presence of my +guests, and tell the shameful story before them all. I +would have no pity, no mercy, nothing but revenge. +That letter!” he panted, as he strode hastily back to the +house. “I will find the letter which that villain said had +been placed in my room for my perusal—yes, I will read +it, and then I shall know if the course which I have +marked out for myself be a wise one.”</p> + +<p>He shut his lips resolutely together, and hastened +around to a side entrance to the brilliantly lighted mansion.</p> + +<p>Once within the house, he hurried upstairs to his own +room, and closed its door behind him.</p> + +<p>Upon the elegant dressing-table, with full-length mirror +and with all its costly toilet accessories, the gleam of a +white envelope attracted his attention. He snatched it up +and tore it open with all the haste and passion of a madman.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span></p> + +<p>Several sheets of paper met his view, all covered with +writing. He recognized the chirography which he had +seen upon the envelope addressed to Lenore, and an imprecation +passed his lips. Then, still clutching the letter +in one trembling hand, he sunk into the nearest seat and +began to read.</p> + +<p>Down-stairs, Rosamond Raleigh and Mrs. Vernon had +taken upon themselves the task of entertaining the guests—assuming +control of the festivities.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Van Alstyne had been taken suddenly ill, and +had gone to her room. She would be down directly. +Senator Van Alstyne had been summoned away for a short +time upon imperative business.</p> + +<p>Lame excuses, but all that could be invented upon +short notice.</p> + +<p>The evening wore away, and the guests seemed to have +accepted the strange absence of both host and hostess with +unprecedented good nature.</p> + +<p>Bessie Vernon was in her element, for Charlie Stuart +never left her side. And Arnold Vernon, watching the +pair from the corner where he sat conversing with some +ladies, frowned severely and looked as black as a thunder-cloud; +but all of no avail. He could no more prevent his +wife’s mad flirtations than he could turn the waves of the +ocean from their course. He could only sit and glower +moodily upon the scene, and, as Bessie definitely declared, +hate himself to death.</p> + +<p>She flitted past him leaning upon Charlie’s arm, her +piquant face uplifted to his, while saucy retort and witty +repartee flashed from one to the other. And gradually +the elements of a tragedy were evolved from the giddy +foolishness—the overweening vanity of this pleasure-loving +wife.</p> + +<p>In the meantime Cyril Fayne was hastening on with +Lenore toward where, in a secluded corner, a closed carriage +stood in waiting. A little later they were safe inside,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span> +and the carriage drove away like mad in the direction +of the harbor, a half mile distant. Pale as marble and +trembling like a leaf, Lenore crouched upon the seat at his +side, one hand pressed over her heart throbbing madly, the +other grasping his arm with a despairing clutch, as though +she feared that he might be taken from her.</p> + +<p>“Cyril,” she cried, fearfully, “what if he discovers +our flight and follows us? Oh, he is fearful in his anger +and brute violence. It makes my heart quail to even +think of him and the day that he struck me—”</p> + +<p>She stopped short, the words dying upon her lips, as +Cyril Fayne caught her in his arms, muttering a mad imprecation.</p> + +<p>“Struck you? Oh, Lenore, Lenore, you never told me +that. Struck you? How dared he, the villain, the base, +vile wretch! Ah, Senator Van Alstyne, ours will be a terrible +reckoning when the day comes in which we shall +stand face to face. Hear me, Lenore: If the day ever +comes when I shall stand in that man’s presence, I shall +shoot him down as I would shoot a mad dog!”</p> + +<p>“Cyril!”</p> + +<p>“I shall kill him!” he repeated, grimly. “The same +world can not hold Van Van Alstyne and me. For your +sake I submit now and will do no violence, but Heaven +help him if we chance to meet. It drives me mad to think +of it. To dare raise his cowardly hand against a woman, +and that woman—you—my own wife!”</p> + +<p>He kissed the sweet red lips again and again as the carriage +rolled onward. It came to a halt at last and Cyril hastily +alighted. Lenore peered cautiously forth into the night. +The moon had gone down and all was in darkness—a +heavy gloom which hung over the earth like a pall. But +a short distance away she caught the gleam of waves rising +and falling with a low musical murmur, while off +upon the water, a faint light twinkled like a star. The +light is Harvey Thornton’s yacht, “White Wings.”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span> +Cyril lifted Lenore to the ground. She clung to him with +a frightened gesture.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Cyril, has any one followed us? Has he—found +out—do you think?”</p> + +<p>Cyril shook his head.</p> + +<p>“I see no one—nothing,” he made answer. “And +now, my darling, we must make haste to the boat, and in +a short time we will be safe upon the ‘White Wings.’”</p> + +<p>One long, eager, searching glance up and down the +beach, and down the long, winding country road by which +they had come, then Lenore slipped her hand through his +arm, and he led her away to where a tiny skiff rocked idly +to and fro at the end of its long chain. A little delay and +they were safe within the boat, flying over the water like a +bird, in the direction of the anchored yacht.</p> + +<p>“Love,” he bent his head and looked into her eyes, “it +is you and I will move upon life’s tempestuous sea. Do +you regret the past? Are you glad that I came back to +you?”</p> + +<p>“Cyril!”</p> + +<p>One swift glance into his handsome dark face, but it +told plainer far than words her heart’s content. He bent +with fresh energy to the oars, and so at last the yacht was +reached and they were safe on board. Half an hour later +the yacht was pushing on, making rapid headway far out +at sea.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Van Van Alstyne read the letter that Cyril Fayne had +written—read it in ominous silence—his lips sternly compressed, +his face ghastly white, his eyes blood-shot and +fierce with rage. It was finished at last. He crushed the +letter up into a ball, and tossed it into a drawer in his +escritoire, locking it securely. For a few moments he +stood as still as death, an awful look upon his white, +drawn face. Then he wheeled about sullenly and entered +his dressing-room. Having bathed his face and restored<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span> +his disordered attire, he was quite himself once more. +Forcing a smile to his bloodless lips, he went down to the +drawing-room from which he had so long absented himself. +He advanced into the center of the room and the +sight of him somehow checked the merry badinage of the +gay crowd, and laughter died a speedy death. Pale and +stern he faced them. Ah! he was going to taste the +sweets of revenge now.</p> + +<p>“My friends,” he began in a clear, distinct voice, “I +must apologize for my unwarrantable neglect of my guests +to-night. I have a revelation to make. Mrs. Lenore Van +Alstyne has left her home forever. She has gone away in +the night and darkness. She has disgraced herself and +me, and heaped humiliation upon the name of Van Alstyne. +She has fled with her lover, Cyril Fayne.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">VAN ALSTYNE’S REVENGE.</p> + + +<p>When Van Van Alstyne spoke those words—those cruel, +awful words—he was speaking falsely, and he knew it. +For the letter which he had found in his room—the letter +which Cyril Fayne had written—had told the whole +truth. And Van Alstyne had set his teeth hard together +over a fearful imprecation, while he vowed an awful vengeance +upon the woman who had left him forever.</p> + +<p>“I will not kill her,” he muttered, hoarsely. “Oh, no! +she would be out of her misery then. And I will not pursue +them and punish them; for they would publish their +story far and near, and would win all sympathy; and I +would be looked upon as an old tyrant from whose clutches +Lenore had escaped to a brighter, happier life. If the +world knew the truth—knew the contents of this letter—she +would have all sympathy and her course would be universally +approved. And they have played directly into my +hands by not coming out openly and declaring the truth.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span> +But Cyril Fayne—curse him!—would spare her every pang, +every sorrow. He has taken her away to a foreign land, +but they will return some day; and when that time comes, +they will return to find themselves ostracized by all +respectable people, condemned by public opinion, shunned +as moral lepers. That is my revenge! Who shall say +that it is not sweet?”</p> + +<p>And then he had walked quietly down-stairs to the drawing-room, +and repeated to the assembled guests the story +of Lenore Van Alstyne’s downfall. He attempted no palliation, +asked no leniency for the fallen woman; but +coarsely, brutally told the tale which was destined to blight +a woman’s whole life.</p> + +<p>After that there was little desire for merry-making. +Not that they grieved so much over Lenore; she was not a +general favorite. She was too cold and quiet, too honest +and sincere to be appreciated or widely liked. Not being +a hypocrite, she would not sully her white soul with deceit, +and pretend to a friendship which she did not feel. She</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verse indent0">“Walked too straight for fortune’s end</div> +<div class="verse indent1">And loved too true to keep a friend.”</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>And now she must suffer for her honesty and sincerity. +In fashionable society this is inevitable.</p> + +<p>One by one the guests took their departure. A few of +the older gentlemen seemed inclined to tarry; perhaps for +the purpose of offering sympathy and consolation. But +Van Alstyne coolly dismissed them all with a stiff “Thanks +for your sympathy, old friend; I do not require it. I have +seen the coming ruin for some time, and I have shielded her +and covered up her sins and short-comings because she was +my wife. But now that that which was hidden has become +clear, I have no more to say. I prefer to be alone. +Good-night, gentlemen.”</p> + +<p>Once left alone in his deserted house, Van Van Alstyne +went quietly upstairs, where he lighted a bronze hand-lamp.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span> +Then, lamp in hand, he turned in the direction of the suite +of rooms which had been occupied by his wife, separate +and distinct from his own. He paused upon a white fur +rug before the great carved Gothic door, and slowly turned +the silver knob. There were three rooms in the suite—sleeping-room, +dressing- and bath-room—all connected, +and only separated from each other by crimson velvet portières. +The sleeping-room was all in crimson, with dashes +of old gold, with exquisite lace hangings, and carved rosewood +furniture. The dainty satin-covered bed was smooth +and untouched. The black lace robe which she had worn +that night was flung across the foot, and heaped upon the +marble toilet-table were the topaz ornaments, gleaming +and glittering like weird, uncanny eyes. Van Alstyne +opened a drawer in the toilet-table. There were her jewel +cases; every jewel reposed upon the white satin bed; not +one had been removed. A second drawer was filled to the +brim with rare and costly laces—point, Mechlin, duchess, +Valenciennes—of the most costly pattern and dainty workmanship.</p> + +<p>The great carved wardrobes were overflowing with rich +and costly garments. Silks, satins, velvets, furs. Her +Russian sables had been the envy of half the city that winter.</p> + +<p>Van Alstyne paused to place the bronze lamp upon the +toilet-table, while he stood glaring about him with ferocious +eyes. He looked like a tiger—blood-thirsty, cruel—as +he stood there, his small, snaky eyes growing red and +blood-shot, his hands clutching the empty air as though +his fingers were about her throat. Then, with a sudden +bound and a hoarse imprecation, he darted forward like +one possessed with the very frenzy of madness. He +snatched up the costly lace robe—the dress which she had +last worn—and rent it into unsightly fragments, heaping +them upon the fire which burned smolderingly upon the +marble hearth.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span></p> + +<p>Once given over to the evil spirit which had entered his +body, he behaved like a demon. He tore down the beautiful +dresses from the wardrobe, and tearing them into tatters, +piled them high upon the hearth. The flames crawled +over them and thrust their fiery tongues through the silk +and satin and velvet sheen, consuming, ruining, blackening, +destroying. Then he opened the jewel caskets and +tossed their contents upon the velvet carpet, setting his +boot-heel upon them in vindictive fury, grinding them into +fragments. It was an awful sight.</p> + +<p>He came to a pause only when he had wrought utter +ruin and desolation. The frightened servants, aroused +from the slumber which they had only just sought, made +their way at length to their lady’s chamber. It was then +that the maniac grew quiet, and turning abruptly upon +them, ordered the fire to be extinguished and the servants +to retire. Tremblingly they obeyed him; and when they +had gone away again Van Van Alstyne locked the outer +door of the suite of rooms which had been Lenore’s, and +slipping the key into his pocket, went slowly down the +great carved staircase, through the outer door into the +gloom without. It was the dark hour which always comes +before day, a dense darkness which could almost be +felt. But through the gloom Van Alstyne made his way +as straight as a die down to the fountain in the midst of +the marble basin, upon whose surface water-lilies were +thickly matted together. It was a deep and treacherous +pool, which had been turned into an ornament for the Van +Alstyne grounds. Although not large, it was almost fathomless; +and the marble sides served as ornaments, and at +the same time marked a spot which would otherwise be +dangerous.</p> + +<p>Once here, Van Alstyne halted, and drawing the key +from his pocket dropped it into the glistening pool. A +few ripples, and it found bottom somewhere; and then with +a muttered curse he turned away.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span></p> + +<p>Plunging into the shrubbery near, he made his way back +to the house—the lonely, deserted house—and up to his +own chamber, where, hastily disrobing, he threw himself +upon his bed, and after a time fell into a heavy, dreamless +sleep.</p> + +<p>The following evening the city newspapers were teeming +with sensational paragraphs—just such paragraphs as +would drive a proud, sensitive woman to commit suicide. +And thus they told the story of Lenore Van Alstyne’s +downfall:</p> + + +<p class="center">“<span class="smcap">Elopement in High Life!</span>”</p> + +<p>“It is with pain that we chronicle the disgrace and desolation +which have fallen upon the palatial mansion of one +of our most influential citizens. And while our hearts +bleed with sympathy for him, we can only condemn the +base woman who has been the cause of all this sorrow.</p> + +<p>“Last night, at the elegant mansion of a certain millionaire, +a grand entertainment was given. The hostess, a +beautiful brunette, received her guests in apparently her +usual spirits; but a little past ten o’clock she disappeared +from the drawing-room, and her guests saw her no +more.</p> + +<p>“She went to meet her lover, a foreigner, who has been +quite marked in his attentions to her of late. It seems +that an elopement had been planned which was successfully +carried out. She has fled with her lover, this false woman +who has brought sorrow to her fond husband’s heart and +ruin to the home which was once hers.</p> + +<p>“A shadow black as the regions of torment will rest +upon her memory, and henceforth the name of Lenore +Van Alstyne will be a synonym for everything base and +vile. Lost, ruined, irretrievably and forever, it is to be +hoped that she will never return to this place. It is believed +that the guilty pair have gone to Europe.</p> + +<p>“Our distinguished townsman has our earnest sympathy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span> +in his affliction. But such a woman will not be deeply +mourned by the community, or long missed.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Seated in the Hotel de Ville, Paris, glancing over an +American newspaper, Lenore read these lines—the awful, +condemning words which made her heart stand still with +wordless horror and blank despair—and she understood. +The man whom she had left had purposely ignored the letter, +and kept silent in regard to its contents—that letter +which would have made plain the whole bitter truth.</p> + +<p>“This is his revenge,” she murmured, brokenly, “and +the end is not yet!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">GONE TO HER DOOM.</p> + + +<p>Richard Raleigh had sent a message by a servant to +Lillian, requesting her to come down to the drawing-room +for a few moments. He had made up his mind that she +must be his wife at once. There were reasons—grave and +imperative reasons—why the marriage should take place +immediately.</p> + +<p>Grafton Raleigh, writhing under the burden of conscious +guilt which he carried ever with him, awaited Lillian’s appearance +with as much feverish impatience as Richard himself.</p> + +<p>Up and down the great library paced Grafton Raleigh, +his hands folded behind his back, his pale face full of +moody light as he paced to and fro, listening intently for +some sound from the drawing-room which would tell him +that Lillian had obeyed the summons.</p> + +<p>But there was no light footstep upon the staircase, no +low, sweet voice was heard, no sign of Lillian’s coming. +Grafton Raleigh halted at the door of the library, which +stood slightly ajar, and bent his head to listen. Down the +stairs at last came the echo of footsteps, slow and measured;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span> +a moment more and the servant who had been sent +to summon Lillian paused before Richard, who had hastened +into the entrance hall to meet him.</p> + +<p>“Well, what was Miss Leigh’s answer,” he demanded, +hurriedly; “is she coming?”</p> + +<p>He was too eager and anxious to appear his usual cold, +stately self. The man’s stolid face wore a look of surprise.</p> + +<p>“If you please, Mr. Richard,” he returned, obsequiously, +“the young lady is not there!”</p> + +<p>“Not there! What do you mean?” cried Richard, +harshly.</p> + +<p>At sound of his angry voice Grafton Raleigh stepped out +into the hall. The man bowed deprecatingly.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leigh is not in her room, sir, I assure you,” he +said. “I rapped at the door several times, but received no +answer, and then I asked Felice to go in and look. She +rapped, and still no answer. She then ventured to open +the door, which was not locked, and she reported to me +that Miss Leigh was not in her room. The fire is out, and +no trace of Miss Leigh, so Felice reported; and then I +came down at once to you, Mr. Richard.”</p> + +<p>Richard’s face was as pale as death. He dismissed the +servant and followed his father into the library. Once +alone in the room, the two men stood staring at each other +with eyes full of blank bewilderment and horror too deep +for words.</p> + +<p>“She has gone away to escape me!” panted Richard, +angrily. “The girl must be mad! Or, father, some +one may have told her—all!”</p> + +<p>Grafton Raleigh shook his head slowly.</p> + +<p>“Hardly. Who would tell her—even granted that any +one <i>knows</i>? And no one knows but you and I, Rick; for +even if Bess Vernon suspects, she really knows nothing certain. +Besides that, she has not seen or had access to Lillian +since she was here this morning. Richard, the girl +has not gone far, and you must find her!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span></p> + +<p>Richard started.</p> + +<p>“You are right!” he said. “And if I find her I will +bring her back to this house my wife!”</p> + +<p>Grafton Raleigh nodded.</p> + +<p>“Do so by fair means or foul!” he panted, hoarsely. +“She must marry you! There is no loop-hole of escape +for us save through your marriage with Lillian Leigh. +To this end I have partially consented to Rosamond’s foolish +affair with Lyndon. Richard, does it strike you that +Jack Lyndon does not care for Rosamond? I am certain +that he does not, and that he has sought her in marriage +either because he expects to marry a fortune with Rosamond +Raleigh or he ‘has an ax of his own to grind.’”</p> + +<p>Richard’s face grew dark.</p> + +<p>“I know nothing concerning Mr. Lyndon’s affairs,” he +said, stiffly, “and I care less! My business at present is +to find Lillian, and bring her home my wife! She <i>must</i> +consent! We must succeed in this scheme, father, or we +shall be utterly ruined. I am going now to search for her. +Living or dead, I shall find her!”</p> + +<p>He left the house, pale and anxious, his eyes full of an +ominous light, his lips compressed sternly under the shadow +of his silky mustache.</p> + +<p>“Living or dead, I will find her!” he muttered, as he +hastened down the long street.</p> + +<p>Where was poor Lillian? The anguish and suffering +which she had endured since her reluctant consent to a +marriage which Richard Raleigh had wrung from her unwilling +lips could not be overestimated. Utterly alone, +forsaken, friendless, her whole heart clung to the memory +of Jack Lyndon with all the strength of its pure devotion. +Yet he, the man she loved, had been accused by +Richard Raleigh of being her father’s murderer. Could it +be possible? The more that Lillian reflected upon the +dreadful question, the more convinced was she that before +binding herself to Richard Raleigh by the ties of marriage<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span> +it was but right and proper, and only justice to Jack, to +confront him with the question, “Are you guilty or not +guilty?”</p> + +<p>The more the poor girl studied this problem, the more +clear and plain did her course appear to her. She walked +the floor of her room for hours, suffering intensely while +she reflected upon the matter.</p> + +<p>“Why not go to Jack and ask him?” she panted, wildly, +at last; “why not see him alone and accuse him, and mark +the effect of my accusation, and at least give him an opportunity +to prove his innocence?”</p> + +<p>And so at last she decided. She dressed herself hurriedly, +the deep mourning-garments making her look pitifully +pale and fragile, and at last she left her room and +went softly down the servants’ stairs and out of the house +unnoticed. Once in the street, she turned in the direction +of the office of the “Thunderer.” But by the time she +had reached the imposing building her heart failed her, her +courage ebbed away, and she dared not enter. After all, +it was an awful thing to do—to seek a man in his private +office and accuse him of the crime of murder—the man +who had only a few days before told her that he loved her +and asked her to be his wife. She thought of that, and +then of his present engagement to Rosamond Raleigh, and +the small hands clinched themselves tightly together, and +the white teeth sunk sharply into her under lip with fierce +intensity as she hurried away from the vicinity.</p> + +<p>She passed most of the day wandering through the most +unfrequented quarter of the city, not caring to return to +the Raleigh mansion and the man for whom she felt only +aversion, yet whose promised wife she was. At last, after +much indecision, when the afternoon was far spent, she +found herself ascending the long flight of stairs which led +to the office of the “Thunderer,” determined to know the +worst.</p> + +<p>“Come in!” called a well-known voice, in response to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span> +the timid tap upon the great oaken door which shut out +the editorial sanctum from view. The door swung slowly +open and Lillian crossed the threshold. Jack Lyndon sat +at a huge desk covered with papers, briskly engaged in +getting ready a leader for the next issue. He turned, and +as his eyes fell upon the pale, pitiful face he threw down his +pen and started to his feet.</p> + +<p>“Lillian—Miss Leigh!”—in an agitated voice—“do you—wish—to—to—”</p> + +<p>“To speak with you for a few moments upon matters +of importance,” she supplemented. “Yes, Mr. Lyndon.” +Then a pause. “Jack! Jack! tell me that you +are not guilty! I had rather die a thousand deaths than +believe you guilty.”</p> + +<p>All the pride of Jack Lyndon’s honest nature was up in +arms in a moment. His face flushed crimson and then +grew as pale as death. He put out his hand instinctively +and clutched at the desk beside him for support.</p> + +<p>“I deny your right to arraign me, Miss Leigh,” he was +beginning, haughtily. “The crime of which I am +guilty—”</p> + +<p>The door was thrown open at that very instant, cutting +his speech in twain. He had been about to say: “The +crime of which I am guilty is loving you too well.”</p> + +<p>The interruption was disastrous to Jack, for it was Richard +Raleigh who stepped into the room.</p> + +<p>“Lillian! Lillian!”—eagerly, anxiously—“I have +sought you everywhere! Mother is very ill, and Rosamond +absent. We need you at home. Come.”</p> + +<p>He drew her hand passively through his arm, and without +another word led her away. Once outside in the +street, Richard turned and faced Lillian with eager, burning +eyes.</p> + +<p>“Lillian, listen!” he said. “I have a strange request +to make of you. I want to make you my wife—now—within +the hour. There is a church just around the corner;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span> +the clergyman, an old friend of mine, is there this +moment. Let us go there and be married at once. Will +you consent, Lillian?”</p> + +<p>She thought of Jack’s words just spoken, and her wan +face grew white with despair.</p> + +<p>“As you will,” she answered, faintly.</p> + +<p>They passed on and entered the church together.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">FORGED FETTERS.</p> + + +<p>Richard Raleigh entered the church door, and like +one in a dream Lillian followed him. She was scarcely +conscious of her own actions. Her brain felt numb and +dazed; her heart beat low and feeble in her breast; she +was faint and trembling, with a slow horror creeping over +her which was terrible. Life stretched out around her like +a bleak and barren desert, upon which no green thing ever +smiled. The future—ah, she dared not look forward to +the future, which held not a ray of hope. Forsaken, +hopeless—the man she loved, upon whose integrity she had +staked her all of faith and trust in her fellow-creatures, +false—false and base.</p> + +<p>The young heart quailed, as young hearts always do, at +sight of such wickedness, and shrunk back appalled.</p> + +<p>Her father’s slayer! Could it be possible? A personal +affair, which had ended disastrously, between the dead man, +her beloved father, and the man she loved, and whose +promised wife she had been for one whole bright, happy +day.</p> + +<p>“To think of it,” she muttered under her breath, as +she moved onward at Richard Raleigh’s side, “to think +how nearly I had come to being the wife of the man who +took my father’s life. Yet, oh, how weak and feeble I +am! I who swore beside my father’s lifeless body to track<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span> +his slayer down to his just doom. Yet now I shrink—I +tremble at the very thought of betraying Jack Lyndon’s +guilty secret to the world. And I find myself weakly upholding +my own weakness. ‘My father is dead,’ I say to +myself, ‘and to deliver Jack Lyndon up to justice would +do Gilbert Leigh no good. It would not bring him back +to life, restore to me my lost content, or make my father in +that other world any happier to know that the man who +took his life must expiate that crime upon the gallows.’ +Oh, fool, mad fool that I am! It is because my heart—my +weak, womanish heart—still clings to Jack Lyndon, +and will not hate him as he deserves. But I must learn +to hate him, or at least to be free from him even in +thought. And I may as well consent to this marriage that +Richard Raleigh proposes, since the hateful marriage is +to be, and since by that alone I can secure Jack Lyndon’s +freedom from punishment. And—ah, Heaven help me!—we +are at the church even now. It is too late to draw back. +The die is cast!”</p> + +<p>They were ascending the steps of the sacred edifice in the +pale, gray shades of the gathering twilight. Down the +long streets upon either side lights were beginning to +twinkle, and the electric light at the corner had put forth +its round, silvery eye, and was winking and blinking derisively +upon the passers below.</p> + +<p>One swift glance toward the towering granite building +which held the office of the “Thunderer.” She could see +the office windows brightly lighted, and could even discern +the dim outlines of a dark figure seated at the long +desk, with bowed head resting upon one hand in an attitude +of melancholy and dejection.</p> + +<p>For just a moment a swift pang shot through the girl’s +tender heart; but she shrunk from it and pushed it aside, +as wicked and unholy. She seemed to lose all consciousness +of time and place. A black doom seemed to threaten +her; a cloud hung over her life which nothing could lift or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span> +move; voices sounded in her ear. She was conscious of +some one speaking, then asking a question in a slow, solemn +voice. Something impelled her to answer, to assent, and +she did so. Dim lights danced before her eyes, which, “as +in a glass, darkly,” could discern a tall form standing before +her, and then—like a knell of doom—came the words: +“I pronounce you husband and wife!”</p> + +<p>Faint and trembling, she reeled unsteadily, and would +have fallen but Richard Raleigh caught the slight form in +his arms.</p> + +<p>“Poor child!” she heard him say, softly, and his voice +sounded more gentle than she had ever heard it before. +“She is quite overcome. Her father has just died, you +see, and she is weak and faint and ill from want of sleep. +She has been nursing him, sitting by his bedside for many +weary nights.”</p> + +<p>Lillian lifted her horror-filled eyes to his dusky, devil-may-care +face. Standing at God’s holy altar, he was telling +a deliberate falsehood for which there was no excuse or +palliation. Heaven help her! What manner of man was +this—the man who even now was drawing her passive +hand through his arm? while a soft, silky voice—a voice +which she had never hated more bitterly than now—now, +when her hateful chains were forged forever—was whispering +in her ear:</p> + +<p>“My own little wife! mine forever!”</p> + +<p>Trembling like an aspen, she faced him, white and still.</p> + +<p>“There is some mistake,” she faltered, slowly, putting +her hand to her brow, and pushing back the thick golden +hair, as though its weight oppressed her. “I—I—do not +know—Oh, sir”—turning to the surprised clergyman +with a wild, imploring gesture—“tell me, am I really and +lawfully the wife of this man, Richard Raleigh?”</p> + +<p>“You are the wife of Richard Raleigh,” he returned, +quietly, “and may Heaven grant you all happiness!”</p> + +<p>“Happiness? Ha! ha!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span></p> + +<p>The shrill, unnatural laughter resounded through the +silent church, and the two supernumeraries who had enacted +the rôle of witnesses shrunk back in wonder and surprise +not unmixed with alarm.</p> + +<p>Richard beckoned the clergyman aside.</p> + +<p>“She is really ill,” he explained, “poor child! I will +take her home to my father’s house at once.”</p> + +<p>“And you are quite sure, Mr. Richard, that your father +approves the step that you have taken?” queried the +clergyman, gravely.</p> + +<p>“You may set your mind at rest upon that score, Mr. +Woods,” he said, deferentially. “Indeed, the marriage +has my father’s hearty approval. Only we did not expect +to be married this evening, and that explains the privacy +of the affair. My poor little wife is quite friendless and +homeless, you see, and it seems right that I should give +her a home at once. Just hand me the marriage certificate, +Mr. Woods. Ah, yes—thank you.”</p> + +<p>And the folded document was placed in his pocket, a +generous fee bestowed upon the clergyman, a present added +for the witnesses, and then Richard Raleigh led his unwilling +bride from the church. The eyes of the clergyman +followed the pair, and an uneasy look crossed his fine old +face.</p> + +<p>“I hope and pray that there is nothing wrong in this +affair!” he murmured, slowly. “I had rather die than be +guilty of a wrong of that kind! I consider clergymen +somewhat responsible in such matters. They have no right +to perform the marriage ceremony when they know that +they are binding together two lives where one is perhaps +coerced into the compact. Ah, well! I will watch this +case from a distance, and I trust to Heaven that all is +well!”</p> + +<p>Out upon the pavement, Richard Raleigh halted to summon +a passing cab. His face was flushed with triumph; +his eyes shone with a fiendish light; he was arrogant and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span> +overbearing in his manner. He saw the way to victory +now, and there was no more need to fear. As they stood +beside the curb, and waited for the cab to halt, Jack Lyndon, +passing down the street on his way home to a six-o’clock +dinner, saw them, and his face grew as white as +death. He came to a halt. They had just left the +church. Jack could see that, and a slow horror crept over +his heart like a chill.</p> + +<p>Just at that moment Lillian lifted her head, and their +eyes met—met for one brief, fleeting moment, yet long +enough to hold a lingering glance. It was to be a farewell.</p> + +<p>“I shall know that look when we meet beyond this ‘speck +of time,’” quoted Jack Lyndon slowly to himself, as he +moved down the street and was lost to sight.</p> + +<p>Then Richard Raleigh aroused Lillian from the strange +stupor which seemed to have taken sudden possession of +her faculties.</p> + +<p>“Come, darling,” he said, in a low, persuasive tone, as +the cab drew up to the sidewalk, “let me assist you into +the cab, and we will go home at once. You look tired +out, and this unexpected wedding of ours has been too +much for you.”</p> + +<p>She was shivering like one with a chill, as he placed her +in a cab and seated himself at her side. They drove +rapidly away down the street, and Lillian’s head fell back +upon the cushion of the seat. Into her beautiful eyes a +strange, wild gleam crept swiftly. She looked like one +who sees before her an awful precipice or bottomless abyss, +from which nothing can save or rescue her.</p> + +<p>“Take me to the grave-yard!” she moaned; “I want +to go to papa’s grave. Oh, Richard—Mr. Raleigh, take +me there for just a few moments, and I will ask no more.”</p> + +<p>“You must be mad!” he panted, harshly. “The idea +of asking such a thing. Your father’s grave, indeed, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span> +you not a half hour married! Lillian, upon my soul, I +believe that you are going mad!”</p> + +<p>A wild light flashed into the starry-brown eyes.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am going mad!” she repeated, bleakly; “I +have no doubt of that. I must have been mad when I +consented to marry you, Richard Raleigh, for my life is +utterly ruined, and—”</p> + +<p>He wheeled about swiftly upon the seat and placed his +hand upon her lips.</p> + +<p>“Hush!” he hissed, sibilantly; “I forbid you to utter +another word of that, Lillian Raleigh! You are to obey +me henceforth, remember that! If you are obedient and +tractable you will be a happy wife, and shall never regret +the step that you have taken to-day. But if you—you +defy me—” he drew his breath hard, and his voice died +away into silence.</p> + +<p>The cab stopped before the Raleigh mansion, and a few +moments later Lillian was upstairs in her own room, its +door securely locked; while Richard sought his father in +the library.</p> + +<p>“Won at last!” he cried, triumphantly, as he entered +the room. “Lillian Leigh is my wife, and the Raleigh +fortune is safe!”</p> + +<p>He came to a startled halt. In his haste, and the mad +exultation which had taken possession of him, he had not +observed that there was another person present beside Grafton +Raleigh—a diminutive figure in seal-brown velvet and +flashing diamonds; an arch, smiling face, with a glare of +malice peeping from her bright eyes—Bessie Vernon.</p> + +<p>He fell back with a stifled exclamation; then rallied his +forces and greeted her with effusion. Ten minutes later +he left the library, and stole upstairs to the door of +Lillian’s room, and rapped upon the panel.</p> + +<p>“Open the door, Lillian, please?” he pleaded. “Don’t +be cold and angry with me, sweetheart! I want you to +come down with me to my father.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span></p> + +<p>The key grated in the lock, the door flew open, and +there upon the threshold, looking like a spirit, in a flowing +white cashmere robe, with her golden hair coiled loosely +about her graceful head, stood Lillian. Her eyes glittered +feverishly; her face was pale as death, and resolute.</p> + +<p>“We may as well come to an understanding now, Richard +Raleigh!” she said, in a clear, icy voice. “I have +gone through this farce of a marriage, but I hate you, hate +you, hate you! I am your wife in name only, and I desire +that you keep out of my sight. If your father wishes to +see me, he knows where he can find me. I married you to +save Jack Lyndon—the man I love—from an awful doom; +but I loathe and despise you unutterably, and I shall never +look upon you as aught but a snake in the grass—a man +whom I can never respect—my bitter enemy. Go! I have +no more to say. I am dead to you now, Richard Raleigh—just +as dead as though the grave had closed over my lifeless +form.”</p> + +<p>Lillian Leigh’s wedding-day was a thing of the past, and +what had it brought her? Only black, bitter misery and +woe unspeakable.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">FACE TO FACE.</p> + + +<p>“Do not weep, dear love!”</p> + +<p>Cyril Fayne took Lenore in his arms and kissed the quivering +red lips.</p> + +<p>“Do not grieve so, my darling. That man is a fiend +incarnate, but we will unmask him to the world. We will +rise superior to him and his petty nature—his engrossing +hatred. He is mean and despicable, and the world shall +know the truth and see him as he is. He has kept back +the letter that I wrote him; concealed it from the knowledge +of the world; held his peace as to my explanation, +and then boldly denounced you and me to the public at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span> +large. A man like that would commit any crime. But I +shall punish him! As sure as I live, I shall punish him! +When can you be ready to return to America, Lenore?”</p> + +<p>“Within the hour!” she answered, her eyes flashing, +her voice ringing forth sweet and clear—“at a moment’s +notice! To vindicate my honor, to make my traducers +bow before me in humiliation, to be set right in the eyes of +the world of society—that fashionable, hypocritical society +which has eaten my bread and enjoyed my hospitality times +innumerable—I will go back at any time, Cyril—<i>now!</i>”</p> + +<p>She was pale with excitement, her large dark eyes shining +like stars, her bosom heaving with indignation, like +a beautiful, outraged queen, as she stood in the center of +the great sunlit room in an old Italian palace, her white +silk robe trailing behind her over the marble floor. Cyril +Fayne felt his heart thrill madly at sight of her glorious +beauty, this woman for whose sake he had suffered so much +and so long, this woman who, in turn, had borne so heavy +a burden for his sake, and for his love counted the world +well lost. And he gnashed his teeth in mad despair at +thought of the mistake that he had made in leaving the +letter of explanation behind for Van Van Alstyne’s private +perusal.</p> + +<p>“I should have gone to him—openly and frankly—like +a man,” he said to himself, “and told him the whole +truth, and claimed my wife openly before the whole world! +But Lenore, poor child! was so weak and worn with the +burden that she was bearing, so nervous and fanciful, so +broken down in spirit, that I could not bear the thought of +exposing her to his brutal rage. And so I did what I believed +to be the best. But I have acted the part of a coward +in the eyes of the world, and now I must suffer. In +my blind haste and mad love for my darling, I paused not +to consider after consequences; I did not stop to count the +cost to her, dear love, who has suffered so for me. I +should have remembered the nature of the madman with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span> +whom I had to deal! I have been to blame for my headlong +precipitancy. But I had lived so long without her, +had suffered so intensely, had missed her so, that when I +saw her before me once more, and knew that my long +years of searching for her were over at last, and that she +loved me still, had always loved me, that we had been separated +and kept apart by base treachery, then I struck the +blow which broke her bonds and gave her back to me. +Ah, Geoffrey Grey! Geoffrey Grey! false friend, wicked, +vile traitor! the day will surely come—oh, yes, I shall live +to see it!—when we will stand face to face, and then—”</p> + +<p>He was pacing to and fro, his face white and drawn, his +hands locked convulsively together, upon his features the +impress of mad despair. Up and down the vast apartment +he paced in stern silence.</p> + +<p>All at once his eyes fell upon the figure of a man passing +slowly down the sunlit street between the long rows of +ilex-trees. A handsome, effeminate face, with a womanish +mouth half hidden by the silky beard and mustache of +pale gold. A weak, uncertain, vacillating face, with large, +limpid blue eyes and straight, delicate features. A man +for women to rave over, jest with, and <i>forget</i>! He was +sauntering idly along in the golden, glittering sunlight, +attired in a faultless gray suit, with a red rose in his button-hole, +swinging a tiny cane lazily in one hand as he walked.</p> + +<p>A swift glance, then an awful change passed over Cyril +Fayne’s face. With a hoarse cry, like the cry of a wild +beast suddenly brought face to face with its prey, he dashed +open the great plate-glass window, and springing through +it, was upon the broken stones of the pavement in an instant.</p> + +<p>With one mad bound he sprung upon the dainty, smiling +vision and caught him.</p> + +<p>“Geoffrey Grey!” he hissed between his close-clinched +teeth, “I have you at last! For years I have hunted you +down, but always and ever in vain; you would manage to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span> +elude me always. I followed you from place to place, but +when I came you would fly, and thus escape me. But +justice shall be done, vengeance shall have its own at last. +You are in my power, Geoffrey Grey, and the same world +can contain us both no longer! Villain, coward, traitor, +false friend and traducer of womankind, your hour has +come!”</p> + +<p>For just a moment the graceful figure stood transfixed +with horror and overcome with surprise, like one suddenly +petrified. The smile had died upon his lip, his face had +blanched to an ashen pallor, he was trembling in every +limb. Still the white-faced Nemesis stood over him. The +coward winced.</p> + +<p>“Don’t,” pleaded the low, musical voice, and the gray-clad +figure recoiled from the stern, threatening gaze of the +other. “Do not—hurt me—Cyril! I—I never did all +that of which you accuse me. I—I swear that I am sorry +for what I have done!”</p> + +<p>A thought flashed like an inspiration across his brain. +Slowly his grasp relaxed the miscreant, and his voice, stern +and cold, asked the question:</p> + +<p>“Suppose that I agree to spare you, Geoffrey Grey—suppose +that I should let you go free, what are you willing +to do to show your penitence? But, bah! I am a fool to +trust you, you false fiend! Stay! if I guard you well, if I +remain constantly at your side so that you can not escape +me, strive as you may, if I take you back thus guarded to +America, will you bear witness to Lenore Fayne’s innocence? +Will you take back the wrong that you have done, +the evil that you have wrought, and clear her fair name +before the world? Speak, villain! And if you agree to +my proposition—remember that you can never escape me. +I will guard you always like a jailer! I will never let you +out of my sight, night nor day, until we have landed in +America, and you have made public all this vile plot against +a pure woman’s happiness.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span></p> + +<p>“Answer me, Geoffrey Grey! Will you try to retrieve +your miserable past by this one act of justice? Will you +endeavor to atone in this manner for the unpardonable +wrong that you have done Lenore Fayne and myself, the +husband from whom your villainous treachery separated +her for seventeen long, bad, black years?”</p> + +<p>Dead silence. The leaves of the ilex-trees swayed slowly +in a passing breeze; no sound broke the dead calm. A +bright-eyed <i>donizella</i> tripped past; a group of ugly <i>lazaroni</i> +gathered upon the opposite side of the street, begging +alms in guttural Italian. Cyril Fayne stood like a statue +glaring down into the shrinking face of his enemy run +down at last.</p> + +<p>“Well?” he demanded, at length, “is it yes or no?”</p> + +<p>“Yes!” responded Geoffrey Grey, sullenly.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">UNMASKED.</p> + + +<p>For just a moment Richard Raleigh stood in the corridor +outside Lillian’s room, in utter silence; then, with a +muttering, he turned and walked away. Back to the +library he hastened, finding, to his relief, that Mrs. Vernon +had taken her departure. Pale and troubled, he sunk +into a seat, gazing into the fire in moody silence.</p> + +<p>“Well, the deed is done!” he said, harshly, with a +swift upward glance into his father’s face, “and I have +caught a Tartar.”</p> + +<p>Grafton Raleigh smiled when he had heard his son’s +story.</p> + +<p>“Nonsense, Rick; I would pay no more heed to her +caprices than to the blowing of the wind. All we want is +her signature.”</p> + +<p>Richard nodded.</p> + +<p>“Very true. But, my dear sir, the girl is capable of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span> +anything. Suppose she refuses to sign our little document?”</p> + +<p>Grafton Raleigh started up, pale and alarmed.</p> + +<p>“She must sign it,” he returned, firmly. “If she is +not willing we must force her into it, that’s all. Rick, +the day for scruples and foolish hesitation is past. It is +ruin if we do not get control of—”</p> + +<p>“Hush! The very walls have ears; and since I have +seen Bessie Vernon in the house I am uneasy. This matter +is of vital importance to us both; to me it is more than +you know. There is something which I have never dared +to tell you, and I prefer keeping it to myself. But, believe +me, if Lillian is not coerced into signing this paper, there +will be blacker trouble for me than you realize.”</p> + +<p>Grafton Raleigh sighed.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry, Richard. But then I do not anticipate +much difficulty in the matter. Let her alone until morning; +then your mother must go and see her in her room, +do the maternal, treat her like a young princess, flatter +and defer to her, spoil her generally, and secure that +signature by fair means or foul. After that I will wash +my hands of the management of your wife.”</p> + +<p>And while the worthy pair consulted together, Bessie +Vernon was standing in an anteroom where every word +distinctly reached her ears, waiting for Rosamond to come. +She had accompanied that young lady home on an errand, +after which she would return to the Vernon mansion for a +longer visit. After awhile Mrs. Vernon left the anteroom +and tripped lightly upstairs, moved softly past Rosamond’s +door and down the long corridor to the wing in +which Lillian’s room was situated.</p> + +<p>Her face was pale with anger, the large, soft eyes were +flashing indignantly, the small hands clinched as though +she longed to strike some one.</p> + +<p>“The hypocrite!” she muttered, softly; “he has just +devoted himself to me of late. And he wrote me a letter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span> +in which he spoke of himself as fated to marry a woman +whom he did not love, while his heart was attracted elsewhere, +though he did not, of course, dare to say all that +was in his mind. And now—now,” catching her breath +hard, “he bursts in upon his father with the announcement +of his marriage. Ah, Richard Raleigh, I will teach +you a lesson! You shall learn that a woman’s friendship +is not to be trifled with. How dared he make me believe +all that foolish sentiment? I am provoked with myself +for believing it. But I will pay him back for his falsehood—I +declare I will!”</p> + +<p>Poor little silly moth! She had singed her wings in the +flame of flattery, and her vanity was suffering now, and +her pride was horribly wounded.</p> + +<p>She paused at the door of Lillian’s room and rapped +lightly.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leigh!” she cried, softly, through the key-hole—“I +beg your pardon—Mrs. Raleigh—will you open the +door just a moment? I have something of importance to +say to you. It is I—Bessie Vernon.”</p> + +<p>Wondering somewhat, for Lillian had never exchanged +a dozen words with Mrs. Vernon in her life, she opened +the door.</p> + +<p>Bessie darted into the room.</p> + +<p>“Hush!” she whispered, warningly; “do not speak a +loud word. I have not a moment to waste, for I must get +back to Rosamond. I have just learned of your marriage.” +Lillian shuddered. “And I want to warn you. +If Grafton Raleigh or his hopeful son try to get you to +sign a paper—a legal document of some description—refuse +to do it. Remain firm; do not be frightened into it. +Go to some competent lawyer and tell him that these two +men hold in their possession a document which I firmly +believe to be a will, and which bequeaths property—I do +not know how much—to one Lillian Leigh. The paper +reads to the effect that the testator gives his all to his beloved<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span> +niece, Lillian Leigh. Hush! I hear Rosamond! I +have no time for further explanations. Good-night!” +and she was gone, leaving Lillian in a perfect whirl of excitement.</p> + +<p>The next morning Mrs. Raleigh was induced to go to +Lillian’s room and accompany her down to breakfast. +The meal was a constrained one, and Lillian was devoutly +thankful when it was over. But, like everything in this +world, it came to an end at last, and then Grafton Raleigh +invited Lillian into the library. With pale face and compressed +lips she followed him, while Richard brought up +the rear.</p> + +<p>Once in the library and the door closed, a strange chill +passed over Lillian. She felt that a decisive moment had +come. Grafton Raleigh led the way to the escritoire.</p> + +<p>“My dear Lillian,” he began, taking a gold pen in a +jeweled holder from the silver and ebony rack, “I would +like to have you sign your name to a little business matter. +You see, as a married woman you will be expected +to sign deeds in conjunction with your husband. Richard +is about to convey a piece of property, and he cannot +legally do so without his wife’s signature. We have sent +for a notary—Ah! there he is now,” as the door opened +and a grave-looking man entered the room.</p> + +<p>Two of the servants were summoned to act as witnesses.</p> + +<p>Pale as marble, Lillian turned away.</p> + +<p>“I can not sign any paper, Mr. Raleigh, without first +knowing its contents,” she said, firmly. “My father +taught me to read, understand, and weigh well any document +to which I am requested to sign my name. Pardon +me, but I must first read the paper.”</p> + +<p>Richard snatched the document from the desk.</p> + +<p>“You shall not read it!” he cried, angrily. “You are +my wife, and must obey me. Sign your name, Lillian—there,” +indicating a line.</p> + +<p>“I will not. I must first know its contents. Besides,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span> +I have no right to sign business documents; I am not yet +of age.”</p> + +<p>The notary started in surprise.</p> + +<p>“If this be true, I refuse to act in the matter,” he +said. “Mr. Raleigh, there is some mistake here—suppose +we postpone action for the present?”</p> + +<p>And, smiling urbanely and bowing courteously, the little +notary bowed himself out.</p> + +<p>The servants returned to their duties, and Lillian stood +facing her husband, alone.</p> + +<p>“Curse you!” he muttered, harshly. “You little +demon! you have ruined my father and blasted your own +prospects as well. And all because you are heart-broken +for the sake of Jack Lyndon. You think to spite me by +this conduct, but you shall learn that I am master. Now, +listen, madame, and you shall hear the whole truth. You +have been duped—deceived—made a fool of. Jack Lyndon +did not murder your father—and Jack Lyndon loves +you as he loves his own soul. And—you are my wife!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">GEOFFREY GREY ATONES.</p> + + +<p>What a journey that was across the Atlantic! With +Cyril Fayne standing guard over the white-faced, scared-looking +man who crouched in a retired corner of the deck +all day, and at night was locked in a state-room to which +Fayne himself held the key, guarded like a prisoner on his +way to prison, never for a moment left alone, constantly +under surveillance, Geoffrey Grey will never forget that +journey until the day he dies. But at last the end came, +as everything comes to an end some time or other, and</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verse indent0">“Good times and bad times, sad times and glad times, and all times alike</div> +<div class="verse indent3">Will pass over.”</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span></p> +<p>And at last the vessel steamed into port, and, half dead +with terror and cowardly shrinking, Geoffrey Grey was +taken on shore, and, still closely guarded, conveyed to the +nearest hotel.</p> + +<p>It was an awful task to which Cyril Fayne had pledged +himself; but he persevered in grim determination, his +face set and stern, and an ominous light in his resolute +dark eyes.</p> + +<p>He knew that the crisis of his life—his own life and +Lenore’s—was close at hand. The hour was drawing nigh +when men should acknowledge their mutual sufferings, +their mutual wrongs, or every man’s hand should be +against him, and his hand against every man in war henceforth. +He shut his teeth closely together with a repressed +cry, heartsick and weary.</p> + +<p>“But she must be defended,” he panted, eagerly, “she +must be upheld by a strong arm; and mine is surely +strong enough for her to lean upon. The world shall +learn the truth and acknowledge its error, and shall beg +her pardon—my sweet, white lily flower, my pearl of +purity!”</p> + +<p>And his face froze over into stern determination. It +would have been bad for Senator Van Alstyne had he +chanced to meet Cyril Fayne at that moment.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The Raleigh mansion was brilliantly illuminated, and a +grand reception was in progress, for fashion is vigorous +and tyrannical, and Mrs. Raleigh knew that she must +throw open her doors to her dear five hundred friends, and +make known Richard’s marriage to Lillian Leigh, or the +fashionable world would conclude at once that the marriage +was obnoxious to her. So, though secretly much +against her own desires, she had issued cards for a grand +reception in honor of her son’s marriage.</p> + +<p>But she found more difficulty with Lillian than she had +apprehended. At first the girl refused outright to appear<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span> +at all, but the entreaties of Mrs. Raleigh were not without +effect. Lillian felt that, after all, it would be a small +concession for her to appear in the drawing-room for a +short time; and since it would keep peace in the family, +she consented at last. But she refused firmly to lay aside +her mourning. In vain did Mrs. Raleigh lay before her +the enormity of a bride appearing in black; her words +were wasted. The utmost to which her persuasion could +induce Lillian to agree was a compromise between black +and white. So a beautiful costume had been ordered of +fancy black-and-white crêpe lisse, with heavy jet ornaments. +The girl looked like a queen in mourning-garments +as she stood at Mrs. Raleigh’s side, under the blazing +chandelier in the great drawing-room, receiving the +guests as they arrived.</p> + +<p>Every one seemed conscious of a strange restraint—a +feeling pervaded the apartment as though they were expecting +some one or something to come. It came like an +electric shock as the voice of the footman announced, in +loud tones:</p> + +<p>“Mr. and Mrs. Cyril Fayne—Mr. Geoffrey Grey!”</p> + +<p>Van Alstyne, seated at Bessie Vernon’s side, dropped +the bouquet of orchids which he was just presenting to +that lady, and started to his feet, his red face fairly purple +with wrath—and was it fear that lurked in his snaky little +eyes?</p> + +<p>A strange silence fell upon the room as Cyril entered +with Lenore leaning upon his arm—Lenore all in bridal +white—a robe of shimmering satin strewn with seed-pearls. +Her face was very pale; but her head was held +aloft in haughty grace, and her dark eyes blazed with +scorn. Following closely in their wake was Geoffrey Grey.</p> + +<p>The guests seemed to shrink closer together—the female +portion, at least—as though they thought it contamination +to even breathe the same atmosphere with this woman +whom they had hunted down.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span></p> + +<p>Cyril Fayne bowed lowly before the astonished assemblage; +then he spoke, and the words that he uttered froze +the audience into silence.</p> + +<p>“I present to you,” he began, in a clear, ringing voice, +“my wife, Mrs. Lenore Fayne, and I wish to tell you our +strange story—a story which I believed had been made +public long ago, or I would have left Europe before this +to set right in the eyes of the world the woman so bitterly +wronged.</p> + +<p>“My friends, this lady became my wife nearly eighteen +years ago. See, here is the marriage certificate. We were +married in Arles, France, as you will see by glancing at +this document. We were separated by fraud and treachery—separated, +and I believed her dead, and she believed +me false. Afterward she read my name in the list of +deaths on board a burning steamer, and she too believed +me gone to my last account.</p> + +<p>“Her only relatives—the Raleighs—were traveling +through France. They found her and took her home to +America with them, and with them she resided for years. +But she never told her story. They did not know the +truth; and when Senator Van Alstyne asked her hand in +marriage they looked upon it as a grand match for her; +and so, urged and influenced—pressed upon all sides—Lenore +consented and became the wife of Senator Van +Alstyne. Of the life which she led with him I will not +speak. In the meantime I came to America, and, roving +about aimlessly, I saw my wife one day by accident, and +learned that she was married to another man.</p> + +<p>“In the disguise of an old woman, a fortune-teller, I +managed to get into her presence, and, by the aid of a little +juggling, which I had learned in the East, threw the +party into consternation, in the midst of which I managed +to slip a note into her hands.</p> + +<p>“I afterward wrote her a full explanation of what had +happened, and in her reply I learned what I had suspected,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span> +that she loved me still, and hated the man Van Alstyne. +And she was my wife! To me not all the years of +separation could prevent my claim. I determined to claim +her, after which a legal process would settle all questions, +and a repetition of the marriage ceremony would make all +binding. In the eyes of God she was my wife.</p> + +<p>“And now comes the point wherein I blame myself +severely. Lenore was weak and nervous. She feared Van +Alstyne with a terror beyond expression, and she shrunk +from an open explanation. Weakly I yielded, and we +went away together, leaving a letter for Van Alstyne, explaining +all.</p> + +<p>“He found and read that letter, learned the whole +truth, then he went down to his drawing-room, into the +presence of his guests, and told them a deliberate falsehood—that +Lenore had fled with her lover, that she was +base and vile.</p> + +<p>“I acknowledge the weakness of my own course; but it +was a mistake made through the kindest intentions toward +my suffering wife. She did not know all that had taken +place until we had been living in Italy for some time, our +marriage having been celebrated for the second time upon +my friend Thornton’s yacht. All formalities were rigorously +observed. She is my lawful wife.</p> + +<p>“The very day that we learned the truth and how Van +Alstyne had sought, by the ruin of her fair fame, to obtain +revenge, that very day Providence threw into my way the +man who had wrought the sorrow of our lives—Geoffrey +Grey. I have forced him to return with us to America to +bear witness to the truth of my words, and the secret of +Lenore Fayne’s life. Geoffrey Grey, speak, and tell the +truth, the whole truth, I command you.”</p> + +<p>Geoffrey Grey lifted his handsome head and gazed about +him with a crest-fallen expression.</p> + +<p>“I acknowledge my own wrong-doing,” he said, slowly. +“Years ago, when I was only twenty-one, I loved<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span> +Lenore Vane; but she never cared for me. I was accustomed +to flattery and homage, and the thought that she +did not love me, and would never care for me, made me +desperate. I asked her to be my wife, but she refused, +and refused me with scorn, ending at last by acknowledging +her love for Cyril Fayne. I had never liked him; +he was always so grand and dignified; he never joined me +in my mad escapades; and he loved Lenore so dearly and +with such jealous tenderness that he would scarcely permit +me to speak her name. At last they were married, +and not long afterward Cyril Fayne was called away to +England upon business, and Lenore was left alone. In +an evil hour an awful plot entered my brain, and I determined +to separate husband and wife, if possible, forever. I +planned a tale of Cyril’s treachery and falseness. I made +Lenore believe, with such apparently overwhelming proof +that no woman dare doubt it that Cyril Fayne had gone to +England with another woman, and that she was a deserted +wife. About that time a steamer was burned at sea. +I caused a list of the dead to be shown Lenore—a list +which contained the names of Cyril Fayne and a woman +registered upon the steamer’s books as his wife. It is useless +to add that I had caused the false report to be printed +that she might see and believe in his treachery. A few +months later her child was born—a puny little girl. A +short time after its birth I sought Lenore again and asked +her to be my wife. She refused me with bitter scorn, +averring that, true or false, she loved Cyril Fayne, and +would never love another. In my anger I determined to +be avenged, and I—I stole her child and took it to America. +Once there, I placed it in an orphan asylum—the +asylum of St. Vincent in this city. The child was afterward +removed from the asylum by the Raleighs under the +name of Noisette—Noisette Duval.”</p> + +<p>There was a wild cry, and Rosamond Raleigh started to +her feet, pale and trembling. There in the door-way stood<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span> +a slight, childish figure—a pale, sad face, with great, +dark, unearthly eyes—in one hand a bit of amber satin, +while the shadowy fingers plied the brush as usual with +swift, deft strokes—never ending—never ending.</p> + +<p>Another wild shriek went up from Rosamond Raleigh’s +pale lips, then she tottered a few steps and fell to the +floor. When they lifted her and bore her from the room, +the overwrought brain had given way, and she was raving +like a mad woman.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">DISCOVERED.</p> + + +<p>For a time the guests stood staring in utter consternation; +then Van Van Alstyne started to his feet. The apparition +had disappeared.</p> + +<p>“My friends,” he began, trying to control his mad +rage, “I pronounce this scene a bit of clap-trap and stage +effect which is too ludicrous to be believed. I look upon +the woman yonder,” pointing toward Lenore with such a +look of hatred upon his face that he was absolutely repulsive—“as—as—”</p> + +<p>He never finished. With one mad bound Cyril Fayne +darted forward, but before he could lay his hands upon +Van Alstyne the senator fell limply to the floor, stricken +down by apoplexy.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Society rallied about Lenore, and did all in its power to +make amends for what had occurred—all but Bessie Vernon, +who refused stubbornly to acknowledge Lenore as an +acquaintance. Rosamond Raleigh was very ill with brain +fever, and in her delirium the burden of her cry was ever:</p> + +<p>“Take her away—take her away! She is painting my +ball-dress with her heart’s blood!”</p> + +<p>And as time passed it began to be currently reported +that the proud Miss Raleigh would never again recover the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span> +full use of her mental faculties. Old Arbuthnot appeared +fairly infatuated, and hovered about the Raleigh mansion +like an unquiet spirit. Presents of rare flowers, costly +wines and dainty luxuries found their way daily to the +Raleigh mansion, and were duly huddled into an anteroom +out of Rosamond’s sight. It was a case of real +affection upon the part of the railroad king, which brought +tears of regret to Mrs. Raleigh’s eyes—regret because of +the fear which possessed her that Rosamond would never +be in a mental condition to accept Arbuthnot and his +millions.</p> + +<p>In the meantime Jack Lyndon did the coldly polite and +courteous lover, calling once a day with punctilious courtesy +to inquire after Rosamond’s health; but though he was +told that in her delirium she called him to come to her, +and although her mother hinted that a sight of him would +please the sick girl, he made no effort to see her.</p> + +<p>He looked as he felt—a disappointed man, a man who +has risked all upon one venture and lost.</p> + +<p>Lillian kept her own room continually; but she felt it +her duty to offer to help nurse Rosamond, so it came +about that she was installed there as assistant to Mrs. Raleigh.</p> + +<p>One day that lady requested Lillian to go up to Richard’s +room for a bottle of some particular lotion which +had been placed there and forgotten.</p> + +<p>“Run up there, please, Lillian,” urged the now quite +urbane mother-in-law. “You will find the bottle in the +closet in the corner of Rick’s room, near the fire-place. +He is not there. The idea of your shrinking from entering +your own husband’s room on an errand! Richard has +gone to see Doctor Thompson. A consultation between a +half dozen physicians is to be held over Rosamond to-morrow, +and he has gone to appoint the hour. Make haste +and get the lotion, Lillian; I must not neglect Rosamond +for a moment.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span></p> + +<p>So Lillian left the room and went reluctantly to that +which Richard Raleigh occupied. The door-bell had been +muffled and all noises hushed on account of the sufferer; +so Lillian did not hear the outer door open, and was not +aware of Jack Lyndon’s presence in the house until she +saw him coming swiftly, silently up the staircase straight +to where she stood. It was too late to retreat, so she stood +her ground, greeting him with a cool nod, and answering +his questions as to Rosamond’s state with swift conciseness.</p> + +<p>“Jack Lyndon did not murder your father, and he +loves you as he loves his own soul!”</p> + +<p>She remembered the words, and her heart almost broke +with its burden of anguish. She turned away, but Jack +caught her hand in his own.</p> + +<p>“Stay! Just a moment, Lillian—Mrs. Raleigh!” he +corrected himself. “I have never had an opportunity to +speak with you before since the late unpleasant events. +Lillian, tell me, why do you hate me so?”</p> + +<p>Her eyes met his with a look of terror.</p> + +<p>“Hate you? I do not. I never can,” she faltered, +and before he could recover from his surprise she flitted +past him, down the long hall to the room which was occupied +by Richard Raleigh. For just a moment she hesitated +before the door, a feeling of intense repugnance +creeping over her. Then she remembered Mrs. Raleigh’s +peremptory order; she laid her hand upon the knob, and +opened the door softly, slowly.</p> + +<p>The room was vacant. A strange sensation crept over +the girl’s heart; a feeling that something was about to +happen.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter with me?” she exclaimed, impatiently. +“I feel like a detective on the track of a criminal, +and who has nearly hunted him down!”</p> + +<p>Just then her eyes fell upon an object which lay upon +Richard’s desk—a large, roomy escritoire which stood beside<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span> +a window. It was a pencil, an odd-looking affair of +gold, in a long, flat shape, which terminated in a snake’s +head, with two tiny rubies for eyes.</p> + +<p>“Papa’s pencil!” she panted, in a low, horror-stricken +voice. “Papa’s gold pencil, the one that he carried for +so many years, and that he used to say he meant me to +have. How came it here? How came it in Richard Raleigh’s +possession?”</p> + +<p>She turned it slowly over in her trembling fingers, +then she returned it to the desk.</p> + +<p>“He must explain how that pencil came into his possession,” +she said, resolutely. “I will know!”</p> + +<p>She moved slowly across the room to the closed door beside +the fire-place and opened it swiftly. Her face was +pale with excitement, and her heart beat fast.</p> + +<p>One glance into the interior revealed a large closet in +the wall, with a row of shelves at the back. There was +no sign of the bottle for which she had been sent, and Lillian +turned to the shelves and began to search for it there. +Still no sign of its whereabouts. Only a box remained to +be searched—a large box which stood below the row of +shelves. Though much against her will, Lillian at last +lifted the lid and began to glance over the contents.</p> + +<p>A suit of men’s clothing rolled into a bundle. Half +consciously she turned it over. It was a plain, dark business +suit, but stained with mud and water, as though the +clothing had fallen into a gutter, and, rolled up inside the +bundle, a book, the sight of which made Lillian cry aloud +with mad horror and despair.</p> + +<p>“Papa’s book!” she panted, brokenly, “the book for +which he went back to the office that night and never returned—only +his dead body all bruised and blackened +from a murderer’s clutches. What does this mean?”</p> + +<p>She opened the book swiftly, eagerly. A note fell from +its pages—a note in Richard Raleigh’s handwriting, and +signed by his name, begging Gilbert Leigh not to expose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span> +him to the world; acknowledging himself as a forger and +embezzler; but adding that if the truth were known, and +the house of Raleigh & Raleigh should cast him off, he +would be ruined beyond redemption. How came that +book in his possession? The awful question struck to her +heart like a blow.</p> + +<p>She staggered to her feet, still grasping the book in one +trembling hand; and turning swiftly about, she stood face +to face with Richard Raleigh.</p> + +<p>Silence—the dead, unbroken silence of the grave. He +stood like one turned to stone, his dark eyes blazing with +a lurid light.</p> + +<p>“Richard Raleigh!” her low voice was full of wordless +horror, “your bad, black secret has come to light at last. +I am going now to denounce you. False villain, your +hour has come!”</p> + +<p>She left the room, carrying the book in her hand. Still +Richard Raleigh never spoke, never moved. When she +was gone he started suddenly, like one aroused from a bad +dream. Going over to the door of the room, he locked it +securely.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">THE END.</p> + + +<p>At the foot of the stairs Lillian’s strength suddenly +gave way, and she sunk down upon the floor in a huddled +heap, in a dead swoon.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Raleigh, tired with waiting for her to return, came +to search for her, and found her lying there with that book +clasped to her breast, her eyes closed—no sign of life. +She summoned a servant and had the unconscious girl +carried to her own apartment; then she went back to Rosamond’s +side. There was a little change apparent in the +sick girl—it was hoped, for the better.</p> + +<p>There was a light step upon the stairs; the door of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span> +Rosamond’s room opened softly. Mrs. Raleigh lifted her +heavy eyes and saw Lenore standing near.</p> + +<p>“Auntie, you are quite worn out,” said a sweet, compassionate +voice. “I have come to relieve you. Go and +lie down for awhile, and I will do everything for Rosamond.”</p> + +<p>She led the exhausted woman away to another room +and made her lie down, while she bathed the aching brow +with Cologne water; then darkening the windows, she +went out and left Mrs. Raleigh just sinking into a peaceful +slumber. Then Lenore went back to Rosamond.</p> + +<p>Upstairs in his own room Richard Raleigh stood staring +blankly into vacancy. His face was like marble; all the +triumph had left his eyes, and fear and horror unutterable +were in its place. He went over to the escritoire at +last and sunk into a seat before it.</p> + +<p>“She means it!” he muttered, fiercely, “she means +every word that she uttered! She will set the bloodhounds +of the law upon my track, and I shall die a horrible +death upon the gallows, or drag out an endless existence +in a prison cell. I will not! No, I will circumvent +her yet!”</p> + +<p>He drew a sheet of paper toward him and wrote upon it +these words:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“I hereby confess that I am the murderer of Gilbert +Leigh. He held in his possession certain facts in regard +to my private affairs which he refused to relinquish, and +which he declared to be his duty to lay before the house +of Raleigh & Raleigh. I knew that he would keep his +word; I knew also that if these facts were to become +known I would be disgraced and turned adrift. I used +every endeavor to induce Leigh to give up this book in +which his information had all been noted, and to give up +at the same time his intention of exposing me; but he refused. +I met him one night not far from his own door,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span> +and endeavored to take forcible possession of the book, +but he fought like a tiger, and in the struggle met his +death.</p> + +<p>“The very day after his burial, an old man—a stranger +in the city—came to our office and introduced himself as +the only brother of Gilbert Leigh, and left in our care his +private papers, including his will, in which he bequeathed +all he possessed to his niece, Lillian. That night the old +man died suddenly in the street, with heart disease. The +Raleigh fortune was in peril. Wild speculations had made +us tremble for our own safety; and my father and I conceived +the idea of retaining the will and inducing Lillian +to become my wife; after which I believed it an easy matter +to get her to sign her property over to me as her lawful +guardian; then I could rescue the tottering house of +Raleigh. The fortune, which belongs by right to Lillian +Leigh Raleigh, is estimated at over a million. She has +become my wife, but she hates me and loves Jack Lyndon. +I confess that I separated these two by false representations. +He was led to believe her false; she was made +to believe that in a quarrel with her father Jack Lyndon +had killed him. I threatened to hand him over to the +authorities unless she consented to marry me. But she +repudiated me after the marriage, and declared that she +had sacrificed herself to save the man she loved. I swear +that this is a full and true confession, so help me God!</p> + +<p class="sig"> +“<span class="smcap">Richard Raleigh.</span>”<br> +</p> +</div> + +<p>Silence in the room—utter silence as the last words are +traced. Richard Raleigh’s face was like marble, and his +eyes wore a hunted, desperate look. He opened a drawer +in the escritoire and took from it a small leather case; it +contained two revolvers—one was empty, the other loaded. +He removed the latter from its crimson velvet bed and +passed his hand lightly over it, a cynical expression upon +his face.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span></p> + +<p>“Six shots,” he muttered, sharply; “six chances of +emigration to another world!”</p> + +<p>His lip curled scornfully; he threw his handsome head +back with a gesture of disdain.</p> + +<p>“Bah! what do I fear?” he cried, contemptuously. +“What is it that Bulwer says:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="verse indent0">“‘Fear life—not death;</div> +<div class="verse indent2">To whatever bourne my breath is borne, the way is easy now; for life,</div> +<div class="verse indent2">Like a pagan sacrifice, leads us on to the great high priest with the knife.</div> +<div class="verse indent2">Bitter? I dare not be bitter in the few last hours left to live—</div> +<div class="verse indent2">Needing so much forgiveness, God grant me at least to forgive!</div> +<div class="verse indent2">And there’ll be no space for the ghost of her face</div> +<div class="verse indent2">Down in that narrow room—</div> +<div class="verse indent2">And the mole is blind, and the worm is mute—</div> +<div class="verse indent2">And there <i>must</i> be rest in the tomb!’</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Farewell, dear world!” he cried, sarcastically. “I +am going to another, and, let us hope, a better one! +Hush! I hear the sound of footsteps upon the stairs. +Come, my friend; the hour draws nigh. The officers! the +officers!” he cried, starting up. “But I shall escape +them!” he added, sinking slowly back into his seat once +more.</p> + +<p>The revolver was pressed against his temple; the footsteps +came nearer—nearer; they halt at the door of his +chamber, and then a loud rap resounded throughout the +house—a rap which was followed by a startling report. +Richard’s fingers closed over the weapon in his grasp; he +pulled the trigger.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>In Rosamond’s sick-room, whither she has returned, his +mother hears the ominous report. Pale and trembling, +she stands for a moment, then she dashes open the door, +only to find herself confronted by her husband. Grafton<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span> +Raleigh looks like a ghost as he grasps her hand and leads +her into an adjoining room.</p> + +<p>“Be brave!” he moans, “for an awful calamity has +come upon us!”</p> + +<p>And then with many pauses, and between her sobs and +broken cries, he tells her the story—the whole ghastly +story of how her only son has died.</p> + +<p>The sound of footsteps upon the stairs had not been the +footsteps of the officers come to drag him away, but some +of Richard’s own boon companions who had come in haste +to consult him upon some matter of importance to them.</p> + +<p>The ghastly remains of Richard Raleigh were buried away +out of sight, and poor Lillian, having placed her affairs, together +with his dying confession, in the hands of a competent +lawyer, was soon installed heiress to her uncle’s +fortune. Through her agency the affairs of the Raleighs +were set straight, and no one knew how nearly they had +come to ruin.</p> + +<p>Rosamond recovered—a pale wreck. The first thing +that she did was to send for Jack Lyndon and give him +his freedom. She afterward married old Arbuthnot, and +although she will never entirely recover her mental +equilibrium, she leads society in her city to-day. For +brain is not a requisite for the average leader of fashion.</p> + +<p>Lenore and Cyril live in a handsome house in the most +aristocratic quarter of the city, and are so very happy +that they are learning to forget the sad past.</p> + +<p>Bessie Vernon eloped with Charlie Stuart soon after +the return of Lenore to America—even at the very time +that she was refusing to acknowledge Lenore as a friend.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“Jack, Jack! look up and say that you forgive me for +ever harboring such a dreadful suspicion against you.”</p> + +<p>The journalist lifted his head from the writing with +which he was busily engaged, and saw standing before him +a slim, black-robed figure. Perhaps he thought of another<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span> +interview which once took place in the office of the +“Thunderer” as he arose and stood before Lillian, pale +and still.</p> + +<p>“Don’t look at me like that!” she cried; “but say +that you forgive me; for oh, Jack, you do not know how +I have suffered!”</p> + +<p>“I forgive you! Of course I could not do otherwise!” +he returned, gravely. “You were under the influence of +a wicked man, and—”</p> + +<p>“You do care a little for me still, don’t you, Jack?” +all pride thrown to the winds now, and her two hands +clasping his. She knows his stubborn pride—the pride +which will not give way an inch; and she knows that +never for one moment does he forget the difference between +the poor journalist and the heiress to a million. +But Lillian is determined to have no more misunderstandings, +so she clings to his hands and looks straight into his +eyes.</p> + +<p>“Jack, you asked me once to be your wife. I—I have +never cared for any one but you! If you—would—ask me +again!”</p> + +<p>He stoops and gathers her close to his heart, and their +eyes meet in a look of deathless affection—perfect trust.</p> + +<p>“Dear love!” he whispers, softly—“the one love of +my life!”</p> + + +<p class="center p4">THE END.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center"> +THE FOLLOWING BOOKS</p> +<p class="center">—BY—</p> +<p class="center large">CHARLES GARVICE</p> +<p class="center">ARE NOW READY IN</p> +<p class="center medium">THE LAUREL LIBRARY:</p> +</div> + + +<p>No.</p> + +<p> +3 Paid For! (Her Ransom).<br> +4 Elaine.<br> +6 On Love’s Altar (A Wasted Love).<br> +11 Better than Life.<br> +17 Married at Sight.<br> +18 Once in a Life.<br> +19 A Life’s Mistake.<br> +20 She Loved Him.<br> +21 The Marquis.<br> +23 ’Twas Love’s Fault (Nance).<br> +24 Queen Kate.<br> +25 His Love So True (Leslie’s Loyalty)<br> +26 In Cupid’s Chains.<br> +27 Just a Girl (A Strange Duchess).<br> +28 The Outcast of the Family.<br> +29 The Mistress of Court Regna (Claire). Illustrated.<br> +30 A Coronet of Shame.<br> +31 An Innocent Girl (Her Heart’s Desire). Illustrated.<br> +32 By Devious Ways (The Girl of His Heart). Illustrated.<br> +33 Story of a Passion. Illustrated.<br> +35 Lorrie; or, Hollow Gold.<br> +37 Heart for Heart.<br> +39 A Modern Juliet.<br> +40 Nell of Shorne Mills.<br> +41 A Heritage of Hate.<br> +42 The Shadow of Her Life.<br> +43 Love, the Tyrant.<br> +44 At Love’s Cost.<br> +45 With All Her Heart.<br> +49 Only a Girl’s Love.<br> +50 Leola Dale’s Fortune.<br> +51 Only One Love.<br> +52 His Guardian Angel.<br> +56 Iris; or, Under the Shadow.<br> +</p> + +<p>The above books are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be +sent by mail, on receipt of the price, 25 cents each, by the +publishers. Address</p> + + +<p class="right"> +GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, <span class="smcap">Publishers</span>,<br> +P. O. Box 1781. 17 to 27 Vandewater St., New York.<br> +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="Age_of_Reason">Age of Reason.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">BEING AN INVESTIGATION OF</p> + +<p class="center medium">True and Fabulous Theology</p> + +<p class="center">BY</p> + +<p class="center medium">THOMAS PAINE,</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Secretary to the Committee of Foreign Affairs in +the American Revolution</span></p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p>The Age of Reason is undoubtedly one of the ablest +and boldest arguments ever put forth against the Bible as +being the inspired word of God.</p> + +<p>Its author, although born in England, warmly espoused +the cause of the patriots in the American Revolution, and +wrote and published several pamphlets at that time which +renewed the determination of the men of ’76 to conquer or +die.</p> + +<p>He afterward went to France, and at the time of the +French Revolution was a member of the Convention. A +motion being made in that body to exclude foreigners, of +which there were but himself and one other, and as he was +particularly referred to by the mover of the resolution, he +conceived that he had but a few days of liberty, and immediately +proceeded to write the second part of the “Age of +Reason,” the first part having been written some time before. +Shortly after it was finished, Thomas Paine was arrested as +a foreigner and conveyed to the prison of the Luxembourg. +He contrived on his way there to call on Joel Barlow, and +put in his hands the manuscript of the second part of the +“Age of Reason,” addressed to the protection of the citizens +of the United States.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="medium">AGE OF REASON</span><br> +in two Parts, Complete in One Book.<br> +PRICE 25 CENTS.<br> +</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="small">For sale by all newsdealers and booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt +of 25 cents, by the publishers.</p> + +<p class="center small"> +Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS,</p><p class="right small"> +17 to 27 <span class="smcap">Vandewater Street, New York</span>.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2><span class="small">TWENTY-FIVE</span><br> + +<span class="smcap">Masterpieces of Dumas</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class="center medium">MAILED FOR $1.50.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="center small">ARRANGED CHRONOLOGICALLY IN THE ORDER IN WHICH +THEY SHOULD BE READ.</p> + +<p> + Ascanio.<br> + The Two Dianas.<br> + The Page of the Duke of Savoy.<br> + Marguerite de Valois.<br> + Chicot the Jester.<br> +The Forty-five Guardsmen.<br> + The Three Musketeers.<br> + Twenty Years After.<br> + The Vicomte de Bragelonne.<br> + Ten Years Later.<br> + Louise de la Valliere.<br> + The Man in the Iron Mask.<br> + The War of Women; or, Nanou.<br> + The Black Tulip.<br> + Beau Tancrede; or, The Marriage Verdict.<br> +The Conspirators; or, The Chevalier d’Harmental.<br> + The Regent’s Daughter.<br> + Joseph Balsamo.<br> + The Memoirs of a Physician.<br> + The Queen’s Necklace.<br> + Six Years Later; or, Taking the Bastile.<br> + The Countess de Charny.<br> + Andrée de Taverney.<br> + The Chevalier de Maison Rouge.<br> + The Corsican Brothers.<br> +</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="center"><b>The above Books will be sold only in +lots of 25 at $1.50.</b></p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, Publishers</span>,</p><p class="right"> +17 to 27 Vandewater St., New York.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="LAURA_JEAN_LIBBEYS">LAURA JEAN LIBBEY’S</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center medium">CHARMING STORIES</p> + +<p class="center">PUBLISHED IN BOOK FORM</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="center"> +<b>10 CENTS EACH.<br> +Any Three for 25c. The Nine for 75c.<br> +</b></p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="small">These books are 12mos, printed on good paper, in large, bold +type, and bound in handsome photogravure covers.</p> + +<p><b> +The Heiress of Cameron Hall.<br> +Daisy Brooks.<br> +A Struggle for a Heart.<br> +Madolin Rivers.<br> +Junie’s Love-Test.<br> +All for Love of a Fair Face.<br> +Leonie Locke.<br> +Little Rosebud’s Lovers.<br> +Beautiful Ione’s Lover.<br> +</b></p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2> +<span class="small"><span class="smcap">Five Great Books by</span></span><br> +Charles Garvice.</h2> +</div> + +<hr class="r5"> +<p class="center"><b>10c. Each. The Five for 35c.</b></p> +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="small">These books are 12mos, printed on good paper, in large, bold +type, and bound in handsome photogravure covers.</p> + +<p><b> + ELAINE.<br> + HER RANSOM.<br> + A WASTED LOVE.<br> + LESLIE’S LOYALTY.<br> + HER HEART’S DESIRE.<br> +</b></p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p>The above works will be sent, post-paid, on receipt of +the price, by the publishers. Address</p> + +<p class="center"> +GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, <span class="smcap">Publishers</span>.<br> +P. O. Box 1781. 17 to 27 Vandewater St., New York.<br> +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2><span class="small">THE</span><br> +LUCKY DREAM BOOK,</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">WITH</p> + +<p class="center medium">COMBINATION NUMBERS,</p> + +<p class="center">AND</p> + +<p class="center large">THE ORACULUM;</p> + +<p class="center">OR,</p> + +<p class="center medium"><span class="smcap">Napoleon Bonaparte’s Book of Fate</span>.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> +<p class="center"><b>PRICE 25 CENTS.</b></p> +<hr class="r5"> + +<p>Both sacred and profane history are full of so many +examples of the fulfillment of dreams, that he must be +very skeptical and but little versed in natural science +who would refuse to have faith in them.</p> + +<p>In this book the interpretation of almost every imaginable +dream is given, based on practical experience, +by a man who has made this particular branch of research +a life study.</p> + +<p>This book also contains Napoleon’s Oraculum, which +was consulted by him on every occasion. The translator +has several times consulted it for his own amusement, +and, incredible as it may appear, he found its +answers to correspond with truth, as they afterward +came to pass.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<div class="blockquot small"> + +<p>The Lucky Dream Book is of a size convenient for the pocket, +and is printed from large, clear type, on good paper, and bound +in a unique symbolic cover.</p> + +<p>For sale by all newsdealers, or sent by mail, postage paid, on +receipt of 25 cents, by the publishers. Address</p> +</div> + +<p class="center"> +GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, Publishers,</p><p class="right"> +17 to 27 <span class="smcap">Vandewater St., New York</span>.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="Look_it_up_in_the_Dream_Book">“Look it up in the Dream Book.”</h2> +</div> + +<hr> + +<p class="center medium">THE</p> + +<p class="center large">MASCOT</p> + +<p class="center large">DREAM BOOK,</p> + +<p class="center small">WITH</p> + +<p class="center medium">COMBINATION NUMBERS.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> +<p class="center"><b>Price 10 Cents.</b></p> +<hr class="r5"> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Mascot Dream Book</span> is the most complete +and serviceable ever issued at the low price of 10 +cents.</p> + +<p>It has been rendered famous by the success and +good fortune invariably attending those who consult +its pages.</p> + +<p>It also contains a Horoscope and Fortune Teller, +and is full of information on many other subjects +of like interest.</p> + +<p>Of pocket-book size, it can be carried without +inconvenience. Its sale thus far has been phenomenal.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Mascot Dream Book</span> is for sale by all newsdealers, +or it will be mailed to any address on receipt of 10 cents +by the publishers. Address</p> +</div> + +<p class="center"> +GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, Publishers,</p><p class="right"> +17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York.</p> +<p class="small">(P. O. Box 1781.)</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="Alices_Adventures_in_Wonderland">Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center"><b>By LEWIS CARROLL,</b></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Author of “Through the Looking-Glass.”</span></p> + +<p class="center">With Forty-two Beautiful Illustrations by John Tenniel.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Handsomely Bound in Cloth. 12mo.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><b>Price 50 Cents.</b></p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<h2>Through the Looking-Glass,</h2> + +<p class="center">——AND——</p> + +<p class="center medium">WHAT ALICE FOUND THERE.</p> + +<p class="center"><b>By LEWIS CARROLL.</b></p> + +<p class="center">ILLUSTRATED BY JOHN TENNIEL.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Handsomely Bound in Cloth. 12mo. Price 50 Cents.</span></p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<h2>NEW TABERNACLE SERMONS.</h2> + +<p class="center">BY THE</p> + +<p class="center medium">Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage, D.D.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Handsomely Bound in Cloth. 12mo. Price 50 Cents.</span></p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<h2>Juliet Corson’s New Family Cook Book.</h2> + +<p class="center"><b>By MISS JULIET CORSON.</b></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price 50 Cents.</span></p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p>The above books are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be +sent by mail, postage paid, on receipt of the price, by the +publishers.</p> + +<p class="center"> +Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS,<br> +<span class="small"><span class="smcap">Munro’s Publishing House</span>,</span></p><p class="right"> +17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="Kitchen_Lessons_for_Young_Housekeepers">Kitchen Lessons for Young Housekeepers</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">By ANNIE H. JEROME.</p> + +<p class="center">Price 10 Cents.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<h2><span class="smcap">Letter-Writing Made Easy.</span></h2> + +<p class="center">Price 10 Cents.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<h2>Cutting-Out and Dressmaking</h2> + +<p class="center">From the French of Mlle. E. Grand’homme.</p> + +<p class="center">Price 10 Cents.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<h2>Munro’s Dialogues and Speakers.</h2> + +<p> +No. 1. The Funny Fellow’s Dialogues.<br> +No. 2. The Clemence and Donkey Dialogues.<br> +No. 3. Mrs. Smith’s Boarders’ Dialogues.<br> +No. 4. Schoolboys’ Comic Dialogues.<br> +No. 1. Vot I Know ’Bout Gruel Societies Speaker.<br> +No. 2. The John B. Go-off Comic Speaker.<br> +No. 3. My Boy Vilhelm’s Speaker.<br> +</p> + +<p class="center">PRICE 10 CENTS EACH.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<h2>HUNTERS’ YARNS.</h2> + +<p class="center medium">A Collection of Wild and Amusing Adventures.</p> + +<p class="center">PRICE 10 CENTS.</p> + +<p class="center">This book comprises Thrilling Battles with Indians, Terrific +Encounters with Serpents and Alligators, Long Swims, +Races for Life, etc., etc., as Related by Hunters and +their Companions Around the Camp-fire.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p>The above books are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be +sent by mail, postage paid, on receipt of the price, by the +publishers.</p> + +<p class="center"> +Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS,<br> +<span class="small"><span class="smcap">Munro’s Publishing House</span>,</span></p><p class="right"> +17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2><span class="small">A PRACTICAL GUIDE<br> + +To the Acquisition of the</span><br> + +SPANISH LANGUAGE.</h2> +</div> + +<p class="center">BY LUCIEN OUDIN, A.M.</p> + +<p class="center">Price 10 Cents.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="center"><b>MUNRO’S FRENCH SERIES.</b></p> + +<p class="center">No. 1:</p> + +<p class="center medium">An Elementary Grammar of the French Language.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Illion Costellano.</span></p> + +<p class="center">Price 10 Cents.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="center"><b>MUNRO’S FRENCH SERIES.</b></p> + +<p class="center">Nos. 2 and 3:</p> + +<p class="center medium">Practical Guides to the French Language.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Lucien Oudin</span>, A.M.</p> + +<p class="center">Price 10 Cents Each.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="center"><b>MUNRO’S GERMAN SERIES.</b></p> + +<p class="center">(<span class="smcap">Two Volumes.</span>)</p> + +<p class="center">A METHOD OF</p> + +<p class="center medium">Learning German on a New and Easy Plan.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Edward Chamier.</span></p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p>The above books afford a cheap and easy means of learning +the Spanish, French, and German languages. They have +had a large sale, and have invariably given entire satisfaction.</p> + +<p>For sale by all newsdealers, or sent by mail, on receipt +of the price, 10 cents each, by the publishers.</p> + + +<p class="center"> +Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS,<br> +<span class="small"><span class="smcap">Munro’s Publishing House</span>,</span></p><p class="right"> +17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York.</p> + + + + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>November, 1901.</p> +</div> + +<h2>THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.</h2> + +<p class="center medium">POCKET EDITION.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> +<p class="center"><b>AUTHORS’ CATALOGUE.</b></p> +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="center"><i>Books marked thus * are at present in Alligator covers.</i></p> + +<p class="center">[<i>When ordering by mail please order by numbers.</i>]</p> + + +<h3>E. About.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><th class="tdr">No.</th><th class="tdl">Title</th><th class="tdr">Pages</th></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1467*</td><td class="tdl">A New Lease of Life</td><td class="tdr">264</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Amedee Achard.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">2196</td><td class="tdl">The Royal Chase</td><td class="tdr">334</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Mrs. Leith Adams.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1345</td><td class="tdl">Aunt Hepsy’s Foundling</td><td class="tdr">294</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Author of “Addie’s Husband.”</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">388</td><td class="tdl">Addie’s Husband; or, Through Clouds to Sunshine</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">504</td><td class="tdl">My Poor Wife</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1046</td><td class="tdl">Jessie</td><td class="tdr">167</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Author of “A Fatal Dower.”</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">372</td><td class="tdl">Phyllis’s Probation</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Author of “A Golden Bar.”</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">483*</td><td class="tdl">Betwixt My Love and Me</td><td class="tdr">178</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Author of “A Great Mistake.”</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">588</td><td class="tdl">Cherry</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1040</td><td class="tdl">Clarissa’s Ordeal</td><td class="tdr">385</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1137</td><td class="tdl">Prince Charming</td><td class="tdr">199</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1187</td><td class="tdl">Suzanne</td><td class="tdr">227</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2055</td><td class="tdl">A Great Mistake</td><td class="tdr">384</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Author of “For Mother’s Sake.”</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1900</td><td class="tdl">Leonie; or, The Sweet Street Singer of New York</td><td class="tdr">287</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Hamilton Aide.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">383*</td><td class="tdl">Introduced to Society</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Albert W. Aiken.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1899</td><td class="tdl">Injun Paul; or, The Prairie Cat. Illustrated</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>George L. Aikin</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1901</td><td class="tdl">Bob O’Link</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Gustave Almard.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1341</td><td class="tdl">The Trappers of Arkansas</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1396</td><td class="tdl">The Adventurers</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1398</td><td class="tdl">Pirates of the Prairies</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1400</td><td class="tdl">Queen of the Savannah</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1401</td><td class="tdl">The Buccaneer Chief</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1402</td><td class="tdl">The Smuggler Hero</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1404</td><td class="tdl">The Rebel Chief</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1650</td><td class="tdl">The Trail-Hunter</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1653</td><td class="tdl">The Pearl of the Andes</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1672</td><td class="tdl">The Insurgent Chief</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1688</td><td class="tdl">The Trapper’s Daughter</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1690</td><td class="tdl">The Tiger-Slayer</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1692</td><td class="tdl">Border Rifles</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1700</td><td class="tdl">The Flying Horseman</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1701</td><td class="tdl">The Freebooters</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1714</td><td class="tdl">The White Scalper</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1723</td><td class="tdl">The Guide of the Desert</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1732</td><td class="tdl">Last of the Aucas</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1734</td><td class="tdl">Missouri Outlaws</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1736</td><td class="tdl">Prairie Flower</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1740</td><td class="tdl">Indian Scout</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1741</td><td class="tdl">Stronghand</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1742</td><td class="tdl">Bee-Hunters</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1744</td><td class="tdl">Stoneheart</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1748</td><td class="tdl">The Gold-Seekers</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1752</td><td class="tdl">Indian Chief</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1756</td><td class="tdl">Red Track</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1761</td><td class="tdl">The Treasure of Pearls</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1768</td><td class="tdl">Red River Half-Breed</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>F. M. Allen.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">2211</td><td class="tdl">Through Green Glasses</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Grant Allen.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">712</td><td class="tdl">For Maimie’s Sake</td><td class="tdr">295</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1221</td><td class="tdl">“The Tents of Shem”</td><td class="tdr">292</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1783</td><td class="tdl">The Great Taboo</td><td class="tdr">223</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1870*</td><td class="tdl">What’s Bred in the Bone</td><td class="tdr">292</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1008*</td><td class="tdl">Dumaresq’s Daughter</td><td class="tdr">296</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2017</td><td class="tdl">Miss Cayley’s Adventures</td><td class="tdr">197</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2022*</td><td class="tdl">Duchess of Powysland</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Mrs. Alexander.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">5</td><td class="tdl">The Admiral’s Ward</td><td class="tdr">419</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">17</td><td class="tdl">The Wooing O’t</td><td class="tdr">392</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">62</td><td class="tdl">The Executor</td><td class="tdr">473</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">189</td><td class="tdl">Valerie’s Fate</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">229</td><td class="tdl">Maid, Wife, or Widow?</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">286</td><td class="tdl">Which Shall it Be?</td><td class="tdr">346</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">339</td><td class="tdl">Mrs. Vereker’s Courier Maid</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">490</td><td class="tdl">A Second Life</td><td class="tdr">390</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">564</td><td class="tdl">At Bay</td><td class="tdr">178</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">794</td><td class="tdl">Beaton’s Bargain</td><td class="tdr">205</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">797</td><td class="tdl">Look Before You Leap</td><td class="tdr">234</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">805</td><td class="tdl">The Freres</td><td class="tdr">630</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">806</td><td class="tdl">Her Dearest Foe</td><td class="tdr">473</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">814</td><td class="tdl">The Heritage of Langdale</td><td class="tdr">391</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">815</td><td class="tdl">Ralph Wilton’s Weird</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">900</td><td class="tdl">By Woman’s Wit</td><td class="tdr">207</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">997*</td><td class="tdl">Forging the Fetters, and The Australian Aunt</td><td class="tdr">166</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1054</td><td class="tdl">Mona’s Choice</td><td class="tdr">300</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1057</td><td class="tdl">A Life Interest</td><td class="tdr">431</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1189</td><td class="tdl">A Crooked Path</td><td class="tdr">390</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1199</td><td class="tdl">A False Scent</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1867</td><td class="tdl">Heart Wins</td><td class="tdr">262</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1459</td><td class="tdl">A Woman’s Heart</td><td class="tdr">394</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1571</td><td class="tdl">Blind Fate</td><td class="tdr">335</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2158</td><td class="tdl">What Gold Can Not Buy</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Mrs. Alderdice.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1582</td><td class="tdl">An Interesting Case</td><td class="tdr">366</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Alison.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">481*</td><td class="tdl">The House That Jack Built</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Hans Christian Andersen.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1814</td><td class="tdl">Andersen’s Fairy Tales</td><td class="tdr">380</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>W. P. Andrews.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1172*</td><td class="tdl">India and Her Neighbors</td><td class="tdr">285</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>F. Anstey.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">59</td><td class="tdl">Vice Versâ</td><td class="tdr">221</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">225</td><td class="tdl">The Giant’s Robe</td><td class="tdr">280</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">503</td><td class="tdl">The Tinted Venus. A Farcical Romance</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">819</td><td class="tdl">A Fallen Idol</td><td class="tdr">228</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">616</td><td class="tdl">The Black Poodle, and Other Tales</td><td class="tdr">239</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>G. W. Appleton.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1346</td><td class="tdl">A Terrible Legacy</td><td class="tdr">304</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2004</td><td class="tdl">Frozen Hearts</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Sir Edwin Arnold.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">960</td><td class="tdl">The Light of Asia</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Edwin Lester Arnold.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">685</td><td class="tdl">The Wonderful Adventures of Phra the Phœnician</td><td class="tdr">347</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>T. S. Arthur.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1337*</td><td class="tdl">Woman’s Trials</td><td class="tdr">216</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1636</td><td class="tdl">The Two Wives</td><td class="tdr">184</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1688*</td><td class="tdl">Married Life</td><td class="tdr">214</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1640</td><td class="tdl">Ways of Providence</td><td class="tdr">215</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1641*</td><td class="tdl">Home Scenes</td><td class="tdr">216</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1644*</td><td class="tdl">Stories for Parents</td><td class="tdr">215</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1649*</td><td class="tdl">Seed-Time and Harvest</td><td class="tdr">216</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1652*</td><td class="tdl">Words for the Wise</td><td class="tdr">215</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1654*</td><td class="tdl">Stories for Young Housekeepers</td><td class="tdr">212</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1657*</td><td class="tdl">Lessons In Life</td><td class="tdr">215</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1658*</td><td class="tdl">Off-Hand Sketches</td><td class="tdr">216</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1660</td><td class="tdl">The Tried and the Tempted</td><td class="tdr">212</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2164</td><td class="tdl">Ten Nights in a Bar-room and What I Saw There</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Sir Samuel W. Baker.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">267</td><td class="tdl">Rifle and Hound in Ceylon</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">538</td><td class="tdl">Eight Years’ Wanderings in Ceylon</td><td class="tdr">205</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1502</td><td class="tdl">Cast Up by the Sea</td><td class="tdr">410</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>R. M. Ballantyne.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">89</td><td class="tdl">The Red Eric</td><td class="tdr">178</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">95</td><td class="tdl">The Fire Brigade</td><td class="tdr">170</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">96</td><td class="tdl">Erling the Bold</td><td class="tdr">184</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">772</td><td class="tdl">Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood Trader</td><td class="tdr">259</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1514</td><td class="tdl">Deep Down</td><td class="tdr">420</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Honore De Balzac.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">776</td><td class="tdl">Père Goriot</td><td class="tdr">212</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1128</td><td class="tdl">Cousin Pons</td><td class="tdr">297</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1318</td><td class="tdl">The Vendetta</td><td class="tdr">254</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2189</td><td class="tdl">Shorter Stories</td><td class="tdr">186</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2231</td><td class="tdl">The Chouans</td><td class="tdr">290</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>S. Baring-Gould.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">787</td><td class="tdl">Court Royal</td><td class="tdr">406</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">878</td><td class="tdl">Little Tu’penny</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1122*</td><td class="tdl">Eve</td><td class="tdr">283</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1201*</td><td class="tdl">Mehalah: A Story of the Salt Marshes</td><td class="tdr">270</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1697*</td><td class="tdl">Red Spider</td><td class="tdr">222</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1711</td><td class="tdl">The Pennycomequicke</td><td class="tdr">448</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1763</td><td class="tdl">John Herring</td><td class="tdr">445</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1779*</td><td class="tdl">Armiuell</td><td class="tdr">519</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1821*</td><td class="tdl">Urith</td><td class="tdr">438</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>Frank Barrett.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">986</td><td class="tdl">The Great Hesper</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1138</td><td class="tdl">A Recoiling Vengeance</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1245*</td><td class="tdl">Fettered for Life</td><td class="tdr">313</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1461</td><td class="tdl">Smuggler’s Secret</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1611</td><td class="tdl">Between Life and Death</td><td class="tdr">292</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1750</td><td class="tdl">Lieutenant Barnabas</td><td class="tdr">292</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3>J. M. Barrie.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1896</td><td class="tdl">My Lady Nicotine</td><td class="tdr">206</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1977</td><td class="tdl">Better Dead</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2099</td><td class="tdl">Auld Licht Idylls</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2100</td><td class="tdl">A Window in Thrums</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2101</td><td class="tdl">When a Man’s Single</td><td class="tdr">162</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2167</td><td class="tdl">A Tillyloss Scandal</td><td class="tdr">164</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Basil.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">344*</td><td class="tdl">“The Wearing of the Green”</td><td class="tdr">275</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">585*</td><td class="tdl">A Drawn Game</td><td class="tdr">304</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>G. M. Bayne.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1618*</td><td class="tdl">Galaski</td><td class="tdr">237</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Anne Beale.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">188</td><td class="tdl">Idonea</td><td class="tdr">239</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">199*</td><td class="tdl">The Fisher Village</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Alexander Begg.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1605*</td><td class="tdl">Wrecks in the Sea of Life</td><td class="tdr">348</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>By the Writer of “Belle’s Letters.”</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">2091</td><td class="tdl">Vashti and Esther</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>E. B. Benjamin.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1706*</td><td class="tdl">Jim, the Parson</td><td class="tdr">244</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1720*</td><td class="tdl">Our Roman Palace</td><td class="tdr">360</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>A. Benrimo.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1624*</td><td class="tdl">Vic</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>E. F. Benson.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">2105</td><td class="tdl">Dodo</td><td class="tdr">213</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>E. Berger.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1646</td><td class="tdl">Charles Auchester</td><td class="tdr">333</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>E. Berthel.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1589*</td><td class="tdl">The Sergeant’s Legacy</td><td class="tdr">342</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Walter Besant.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">97</td><td class="tdl">All in a Garden Fair</td><td class="tdr">271</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">137</td><td class="tdl">Uncle Jack</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">140</td><td class="tdl">A Glorious Fortune</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">146*</td><td class="tdl">Love Finds the Way, and Other Stories. By Besant and Rice</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">230</td><td class="tdl">Dorothy Forster</td><td class="tdr">283</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">324</td><td class="tdl">In Luck at Last</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">541</td><td class="tdl">Uncle Jack</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">651*</td><td class="tdl">“Self or Bearer”</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">882</td><td class="tdl">Children of Gibeon</td><td class="tdr">459</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">904</td><td class="tdl">The Holy Rose</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">906</td><td class="tdl">The World Went Very Well Then</td><td class="tdr">366</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">980</td><td class="tdl">To Call Her Mine</td><td class="tdr">164</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1055</td><td class="tdl">Katharine Regina</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1065*</td><td class="tdl">Herr Paulus: His Rise, His Greatness, and His Fall</td><td class="tdr">278</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1143*</td><td class="tdl">The Inner House</td><td class="tdr">183</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1151*</td><td class="tdl">For Faith and Freedom</td><td class="tdr">356</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1240*</td><td class="tdl">The Bell of St. Paul’s</td><td class="tdr">352</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1247</td><td class="tdl">The Lament of Dives</td><td class="tdr">244</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1378</td><td class="tdl">They Were Married. By Walter Besant and Jas. Rice</td><td class="tdr">189</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1413</td><td class="tdl">Armorel of Lyonesse</td><td class="tdr">401</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1462</td><td class="tdl">Let Nothing You Dismay</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1530</td><td class="tdl">When the Ship Comes Home. By Besant and Rice</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1655</td><td class="tdl">The Demoniac</td><td class="tdr">347</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1861</td><td class="tdl">St. Katherine’s by the Tower</td><td class="tdr">377</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>M. Betham-Edwards.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">273</td><td class="tdl">Love and Mirage; or, The Waiting on an Island</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">579*</td><td class="tdl">The Flower of Doom, and Other Stories</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">594*</td><td class="tdl">Doctor Jacob</td><td class="tdr">207</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1023*</td><td class="tdl">Next of Kin—Wanted</td><td class="tdr">220</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1407*</td><td class="tdl">The Parting of the Ways</td><td class="tdr">390</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1500*</td><td class="tdl">Disarmed</td><td class="tdr">203</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1543*</td><td class="tdl">For One and the World</td><td class="tdr">340</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1627*</td><td class="tdl">A Romance of the Wire</td><td class="tdr">192</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Jeanie Gwynne Bettany.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1810</td><td class="tdl">A Laggard in Love</td><td class="tdr">189</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Bjornstjerne Bjornson.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1385</td><td class="tdl">Arne</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1388</td><td class="tdl">The Happy Boy</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>William Black.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1</td><td class="tdl">Yolande</td><td class="tdr">329</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">8</td><td class="tdl">Shandon Bells</td><td class="tdr">274</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">21</td><td class="tdl">Sunrise: A Story of These Times</td><td class="tdr">324</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">23</td><td class="tdl">A Princess of Thule</td><td class="tdr">334</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">39</td><td class="tdl">In Silk Attire</td><td class="tdr">316</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">44</td><td class="tdl">Macleod of Dare</td><td class="tdr">294</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">49</td><td class="tdl">That Beautiful Wretch</td><td class="tdr">215</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">50</td><td class="tdl">The Strange Adventures of a Phaeton</td><td class="tdr">372</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">70</td><td class="tdl">White Wings: A Yachting Romance</td><td class="tdr">261</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">78</td><td class="tdl">Madcap Violet</td><td class="tdr">310</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">81</td><td class="tdl">A Daughter of Heth</td><td class="tdr">336</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">124</td><td class="tdl">Three Feathers</td><td class="tdr">328</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">125</td><td class="tdl">The Monarch of Mincing Lane</td><td class="tdr">271</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">126</td><td class="tdl">Killmeny</td><td class="tdr">240</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">138</td><td class="tdl">Green Pastures and Piccadilly</td><td class="tdr">391</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">265</td><td class="tdl">Judith Shakespeare: Her Love Affairs and Other Adventures</td><td class="tdr">260</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">472</td><td class="tdl">The Wise Women of Inverness</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">627</td><td class="tdl">White Heather</td><td class="tdr">337</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">898</td><td class="tdl">Romeo and Juliet: A Tale of Two Young Fools</td><td class="tdr">162</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">962</td><td class="tdl">Sabina Zembra</td><td class="tdr">454</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1096</td><td class="tdl">The Strange Adventures of a House-Boat</td><td class="tdr">335</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1132</td><td class="tdl">In Far Lochaber</td><td class="tdr">287</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1227</td><td class="tdl">The Penance of John Logan</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1259</td><td class="tdl">Nanciebel: A Tale of Stratford-on-Avon</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1268</td><td class="tdl">Prince Fortunatus</td><td class="tdr">421</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1389</td><td class="tdl">Oliver Goldsmith</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1394</td><td class="tdl">The Four Macnicols, and Other Tales</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1426</td><td class="tdl">An Adventure in Thule</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1505</td><td class="tdl">Lady Silverdale’s Sweetheart</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1506</td><td class="tdl">Mr. Pisistratus Brown, M. P.</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1725</td><td class="tdl">Stand Fast, Craig-Royston!</td><td class="tdr">408</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1892</td><td class="tdl">Donald Ross of Heimra</td><td class="tdr">367</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>R. D. Blackmore.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">67</td><td class="tdl">Lorna Doone</td><td class="tdr">454</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">427</td><td class="tdl">The Remarkable History of Sir Thomas Upmore, Bart., M. P.</td><td class="tdr">210</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">615</td><td class="tdl">Mary Anerley</td><td class="tdr">488</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">625</td><td class="tdl">Erema; or, My Father’s Sin</td><td class="tdr">396</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">629</td><td class="tdl">Cripps, the Carrier</td><td class="tdr">333</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">630</td><td class="tdl">Cradock Nowell</td><td class="tdr">568</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">631</td><td class="tdl">Christowell</td><td class="tdr">458</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">632</td><td class="tdl">Clara Vaughan</td><td class="tdr">489</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">633</td><td class="tdl">The Maid of Sker</td><td class="tdr">507</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">636</td><td class="tdl">Alice Lorraine</td><td class="tdr">494</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">926</td><td class="tdl">Springhaven</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1267</td><td class="tdl">Kit and Kitty</td><td class="tdr">419</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Isa Blagden.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">705</td><td class="tdl">The Woman I Loved, and the Woman Who Loved Me</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Edgar Janes Bliss.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">2102</td><td class="tdl">The Peril of Oliver Sargent</td><td class="tdr">177</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Frederick Boyle.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">356*</td><td class="tdl">A Good Hater</td><td class="tdr">244</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Miss M. E. Braddon.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">35</td><td class="tdl">Lady Audley’s Secret</td><td class="tdr">279</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">56</td><td class="tdl">Phantom Fortune</td><td class="tdr">464</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">74</td><td class="tdl">Aurora Floyd</td><td class="tdr">333</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">110</td><td class="tdl">Under the Red Flag</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">153</td><td class="tdl">The Golden Calf</td><td class="tdr">297</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">204</td><td class="tdl">Vixen</td><td class="tdr">328</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">211</td><td class="tdl">The Octoroon</td><td class="tdr">160</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">234</td><td class="tdl">Barbara; or, Splendid Misery</td><td class="tdr">256</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">263</td><td class="tdl">An Ishmaelite</td><td class="tdr">338</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">315</td><td class="tdl">The Mistletoe Bough. Christmas, 1884.<br>Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon</td><td class="tdr">197</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">434</td><td class="tdl">Wyllard’s Weird</td><td class="tdr">312</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">478</td><td class="tdl">Diavola</td><td class="tdr">233</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">480</td><td class="tdl">Married in Haste. Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon</td><td class="tdr">240</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">487</td><td class="tdl">Put to the Test. Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon</td><td class="tdr">365</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">488</td><td class="tdl">Joshua Haggard’s Daughter</td><td class="tdr">438</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">489</td><td class="tdl">Rupert Godwin</td><td class="tdr">369</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">495</td><td class="tdl">Mount Royal</td><td class="tdr">431</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">496</td><td class="tdl">Only a Woman. Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon</td><td class="tdr">390</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">497</td><td class="tdl">The Lady’s Mile</td><td class="tdr">425</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">498</td><td class="tdl">Only a Clod</td><td class="tdr">403</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">499</td><td class="tdl">The Cloven Foot</td><td class="tdr">416</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">511</td><td class="tdl">A Strange World</td><td class="tdr">429</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">515</td><td class="tdl">Sir Jasper’s Tenant</td><td class="tdr">416</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">524</td><td class="tdl">Strangers and Pilgrims</td><td class="tdr">473</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">529</td><td class="tdl">The Doctor’s Wife</td><td class="tdr">431</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">542</td><td class="tdl">Fenton’s Quest</td><td class="tdr">240</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">544</td><td class="tdl">Cut by the County; or, Grace Darnel</td><td class="tdr">163</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">548</td><td class="tdl">A Fatal Marriage, and The Shadow in the Corner</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">549</td><td class="tdl">Dudley Carleon; or, The Brother’s Secret,<br>and George Caulfield’s Journey</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">552</td><td class="tdl">Hostages to Fortune</td><td class="tdr">409</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">553</td><td class="tdl">Birds of Prey</td><td class="tdr">414</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">554</td><td class="tdl">Charlotte’s Inheritance. (Sequel to “Birds of Prey”)</td><td class="tdr">397</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">557</td><td class="tdl">To the Bitter End</td><td class="tdr">459</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">559</td><td class="tdl">Taken at the Flood</td><td class="tdr">490</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">560</td><td class="tdl">Asphodel</td><td class="tdr">468</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">561</td><td class="tdl">Just as I am; or, A Living Lie</td><td class="tdr">437</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">567</td><td class="tdl">Dead Men’s Shoes</td><td class="tdr">459</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">570</td><td class="tdl">John Marchmont’s Legacy</td><td class="tdr">498</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">618</td><td class="tdl">The Mistletoe Bough. Christmas, 1885.<br>Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon</td><td class="tdr">257</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">840*</td><td class="tdl">One Thing Needful; or, The Penalty of Fate</td><td class="tdr">281</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">881</td><td class="tdl">Mohawks</td><td class="tdr">515</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">890*</td><td class="tdl">The Mistletoe Bough. Christmas, 1886.<br>Edited by Miss M. E. Braddon</td><td class="tdr">252</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">943</td><td class="tdl">Weavers and Weft; or, “Love that Hath Us in His Net”</td><td class="tdr">206</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">947</td><td class="tdl">Publicans and Sinners; or, Lucius Davoren</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1036</td><td class="tdl">Like and Unlike</td><td class="tdr">402</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1098</td><td class="tdl">The Fatal Three</td><td class="tdr">357</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1211</td><td class="tdl">The Day Will Come</td><td class="tdr">415</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1411</td><td class="tdl">Whose Was the Hand?</td><td class="tdr">377</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1664*</td><td class="tdl">Dead Sea Fruit</td><td class="tdr">348</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1893</td><td class="tdl">The World, Flesh and the Devil</td><td class="tdr">472</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1933</td><td class="tdl">Nobody’s Daughter. Sequel to “Diavola”</td><td class="tdr">265</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Annie Bradshaw.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">706*</td><td class="tdl">A Crimson Stain</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Charlotte M. Braeme, Author of “Dora Thorne.”</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">19</td><td class="tdl">Her Mother’s Sin; or, A Bright Wedding Day</td><td class="tdr">174</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">51</td><td class="tdl">Dora Thorne</td><td class="tdr">320</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">54</td><td class="tdl">A Broken Wedding-Ring</td><td class="tdr">336</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">68</td><td class="tdl">A Queen Amongst Women</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">69</td><td class="tdl">Madolin’s Lover; or, The Love that Lived</td><td class="tdr">329</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">78</td><td class="tdl">Redeemed by Love; or, Love’s Victory; or, Love Works Wonders</td><td class="tdr">240</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">76</td><td class="tdl">Wife in Name Only; or, A Broken Heart</td><td class="tdr">287</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">79</td><td class="tdl">Wedded and Parted</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">92</td><td class="tdl">Lord Lynne’s Choice</td><td class="tdr">197</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">148</td><td class="tdl">Thorns and Orange-Blossoms</td><td class="tdr">319</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">151</td><td class="tdl">The Ducie Diamonds</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">155</td><td class="tdl">Lady Muriel’s Secret</td><td class="tdr">185</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">156</td><td class="tdl">“For a Dream’s Sake”</td><td class="tdr">189</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">174</td><td class="tdl">Under a Ban</td><td class="tdr">270</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">190</td><td class="tdl">Romance of a Black Veil</td><td class="tdr">160</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">194</td><td class="tdl">“So Near, and Yet So Far!”</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">220</td><td class="tdl">Which Loved Him Best? or, Two Fair Women</td><td class="tdr">184</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">237</td><td class="tdl">Repented at Leisure</td><td class="tdr">283</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">244</td><td class="tdl">A Great Mistake</td><td class="tdr">384</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">246</td><td class="tdl">A Fatal Dower</td><td class="tdr">249</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">249</td><td class="tdl">“Prince Charlie’s Daughter;” or, The Cost of Her Love</td><td class="tdr">191</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">250</td><td class="tdl">Sunshine and Roses; or, Diana’s Discipline</td><td class="tdr">244</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">254</td><td class="tdl">The Wife’s Secret, and Fair but False</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">273</td><td class="tdl">For Life and Love</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">283</td><td class="tdl">The Sin of a Lifetime; or, Vivien’s Atonement</td><td class="tdr">201</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">285</td><td class="tdl">The Gambler’s Wife</td><td class="tdr">309</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">291</td><td class="tdl">Love’s Warfare</td><td class="tdr">181</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">292</td><td class="tdl">A Golden Heart</td><td class="tdr">184</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">296</td><td class="tdl">A Rose in Thorns</td><td class="tdr">183</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">299</td><td class="tdl">The Fatal Lilies, and A Bride from the Sea</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">300</td><td class="tdl">A Gilded Sin</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">303</td><td class="tdl">Ingledew House, and More Bitter than Death</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">304</td><td class="tdl">In Cupid’s Net</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">305</td><td class="tdl">A Dead Heart, and Lady Gwendoline’s Dream</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">306</td><td class="tdl">A Golden Dawn, and Lover for a Day</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">307</td><td class="tdl">Two Kisses, and Like no Other Love</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">308</td><td class="tdl">Beyond Pardon</td><td class="tdr">268</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">322</td><td class="tdl">A Woman’s Love-Story</td><td class="tdr">173</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">328</td><td class="tdl">A Willful Maid</td><td class="tdr">210</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">335</td><td class="tdl">The White Witch</td><td class="tdr">294</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">352</td><td class="tdl">At Any Cost</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">411</td><td class="tdl">A Bitter Atonement</td><td class="tdr">290</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">430</td><td class="tdl">A Bitter Reckoning</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">433</td><td class="tdl">My Sister Kate</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">459</td><td class="tdl">A Woman’s Temptation</td><td class="tdr">277</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">460</td><td class="tdl">Under a Shadow</td><td class="tdr">245</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">461</td><td class="tdl">His Wedded Wife</td><td class="tdr">300</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">465</td><td class="tdl">The Earl’s Atonement</td><td class="tdr">254</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">466</td><td class="tdl">Between Two Loves</td><td class="tdr">220</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">467</td><td class="tdl">A Struggle for a Ring</td><td class="tdr">245</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">469</td><td class="tdl">Lady Damer’s Secret</td><td class="tdr">256</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">470</td><td class="tdl">Evelyn’s Folly</td><td class="tdr">268</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">471</td><td class="tdl">Thrown on the World</td><td class="tdr">223</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">476</td><td class="tdl">Between Two Sins; or, Married in Haste</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">516</td><td class="tdl">Put Asunder; or, Lady Castlemaine’s Divorce</td><td class="tdr">261</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">518</td><td class="tdl">The Hidden Sin</td><td class="tdr">312</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">519</td><td class="tdl">James Gordon’s Wife</td><td class="tdr">272</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">547</td><td class="tdl">A Coquette’s Conquest</td><td class="tdr">304</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">576</td><td class="tdl">Her Martyrdom</td><td class="tdr">289</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">626</td><td class="tdl">A Fair Mystery; or, The Perils of Beauty</td><td class="tdr">456</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">628</td><td class="tdl">Wedded Hands</td><td class="tdr">358</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">677</td><td class="tdl">Griselda</td><td class="tdr">234</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">741</td><td class="tdl">The Heiress of Hilldrop; or, The Romance of a Young Girl</td><td class="tdr">285</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">745</td><td class="tdl">For Another’s Sin; or, A Struggle for Love</td><td class="tdr">313</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">755</td><td class="tdl">Margery Dew</td><td class="tdr">226</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">759</td><td class="tdl">In Shallow Waters</td><td class="tdr">202</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">778</td><td class="tdl">Society’s Verdict</td><td class="tdr">319</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">792</td><td class="tdl">Set in Diamonds</td><td class="tdr">277</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">807</td><td class="tdl">If Love Be Love</td><td class="tdr">257</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">821</td><td class="tdl">The World Between Them</td><td class="tdr">368</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">822</td><td class="tdl">A Passion Flower</td><td class="tdr">352</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">829</td><td class="tdl">The Actor’s Ward</td><td class="tdr">315</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">853</td><td class="tdl">A True Magdalen; or, One False Step</td><td class="tdr">364</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">854</td><td class="tdl">A Woman’s Error</td><td class="tdr">286</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">908</td><td class="tdl">A Willful Young Woman</td><td class="tdr">283</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">922</td><td class="tdl">Marjorie</td><td class="tdr">346</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">923</td><td class="tdl">At War With Herself</td><td class="tdr">258</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">924</td><td class="tdl">’Twixt Smile and Tear</td><td class="tdr">391</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">927</td><td class="tdl">Sweet Cymbeline</td><td class="tdr">358</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">928</td><td class="tdl">The False Vow; or, Hilda; or, Lady Hutton’s Ward</td><td class="tdr">261</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">928</td><td class="tdl">Hilda; or, The False Vow; or, Lady Hutton’s Ward</td><td class="tdr">261</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">929</td><td class="tdl">The Belle of Lynn; or, The Miller’s Daughter</td><td class="tdr">263</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">931</td><td class="tdl">Lady Diana’s Pride; or, One Against Many</td><td class="tdr">177</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">933</td><td class="tdl">A Hidden Terror</td><td class="tdr">264</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">948</td><td class="tdl">The Shadow of a Sin</td><td class="tdr">217</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">949</td><td class="tdl">Claribel’s Love Story; or, Love’s Hidden Depths</td><td class="tdr">296</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">952</td><td class="tdl">A Woman’s War</td><td class="tdr">319</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">953</td><td class="tdl">Hilary’s Folly; or, Her Marriage Vow</td><td class="tdr">312</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">955</td><td class="tdl">From Gloom to Sunlight; or, From Out the Gloom</td><td class="tdr">328</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">958</td><td class="tdl">A Haunted Life; or, Her Terrible Sin</td><td class="tdr">288</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">964</td><td class="tdl">A Struggle for the Right</td><td class="tdr">245</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">967</td><td class="tdl">Bonnie Doon</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">968</td><td class="tdl">Blossom and Fruit; or, Madame’s Ward</td><td class="tdr">313</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">969</td><td class="tdl">The Mystery of Colde Fell; or, Not Proven</td><td class="tdr">269</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">973</td><td class="tdl">The Squire’s Darling</td><td class="tdr">160</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">975</td><td class="tdl">A Dark Marriage Morn</td><td class="tdr">311</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">978</td><td class="tdl">Her Second Love</td><td class="tdr">198</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">982</td><td class="tdl">The Duke’s Secret</td><td class="tdr">335</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">985</td><td class="tdl">On Her Wedding Morn, and The Mystery of the Holly-Tree</td><td class="tdr">178</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">988</td><td class="tdl">The Shattered Idol, and Letty Leigh</td><td class="tdr">191</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">990</td><td class="tdl">The Earl’s Error, and Arnold’s Promise</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">995</td><td class="tdl">An Unnatural Bondage, and That Beautiful Lady</td><td class="tdr">164</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1006</td><td class="tdl">His Wife’s Judgment</td><td class="tdr">302</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1008</td><td class="tdl">A Thorn in Her Heart</td><td class="tdr">256</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1010</td><td class="tdl">Golden Gates</td><td class="tdr">256</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1012</td><td class="tdl">A Nameless Sin</td><td class="tdr">229</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1014</td><td class="tdl">A Mad Love</td><td class="tdr">270</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1031</td><td class="tdl">Irene’s Vow</td><td class="tdr">265</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1052</td><td class="tdl">Signa’s Sweetheart</td><td class="tdr">361</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1091</td><td class="tdl">A Modern Cinderella</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1134</td><td class="tdl">Lord Elesmere’s Wife</td><td class="tdr">401</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1155</td><td class="tdl">Lured Away; or, The Story of a Wedding-Ring,<br>and The Heiress of Arne</td><td class="tdr">160</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1179</td><td class="tdl">Beauty’s Marriage</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1185</td><td class="tdl">A Fiery Ordeal</td><td class="tdr">206</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1186</td><td class="tdl">Guelda</td><td class="tdr">219</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1195</td><td class="tdl">Dumaresq’s Temptation</td><td class="tdr">324</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1285</td><td class="tdl">Jenny</td><td class="tdr">187</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1291</td><td class="tdl">The Star of Love</td><td class="tdr">212</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1328</td><td class="tdl">Lord Lisle’s Daughter</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1338</td><td class="tdl">A Woman’s Vengeance</td><td class="tdr">215</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1343</td><td class="tdl">Dream Faces</td><td class="tdr">296</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1373</td><td class="tdl">The Story of an Error</td><td class="tdr">299</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1415</td><td class="tdl">Weaker than a Woman</td><td class="tdr">289</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1444</td><td class="tdl">The Queen of the County</td><td class="tdr">386</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1628</td><td class="tdl">Love Works Wonders; or, Love’s Victory; or, Redeemed by Love</td><td class="tdr">270</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1951</td><td class="tdl">The Mystery of Woodleigh Grange</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2010</td><td class="tdl">Her Only Sin</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2011</td><td class="tdl">A Fatal Wedding</td><td class="tdr">160</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2012</td><td class="tdl">A Bright Wedding-Day; or, Her Mother’s Sin</td><td class="tdr">174</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2013</td><td class="tdl">One Against Many; or, Lady Diana’s Pride</td><td class="tdr">177</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2014</td><td class="tdl">One False Step; or, A True Magdalen</td><td class="tdr">361</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2015</td><td class="tdl">Two Fair Women; or, Which Loved Him Best?</td><td class="tdr">184</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2053</td><td class="tdl">The Love that Lived; or, Madolin’s Lover</td><td class="tdr">329</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2068</td><td class="tdl">Lady Latimer’s Escape</td><td class="tdr">236</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2188</td><td class="tdl">His Perfect Trust</td><td class="tdr">338</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Fredrika Bremer.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">187</td><td class="tdl">The Midnight Sun</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Charlotte Bronte.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">15</td><td class="tdl">Jane Eyre</td><td class="tdr">337</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">57</td><td class="tdl">Shirley</td><td class="tdr">405</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">944</td><td class="tdl">The Professor</td><td class="tdr">228</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Rhoda Broughton.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">86</td><td class="tdl">Belinda</td><td class="tdr">261</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">101</td><td class="tdl">Second Thoughts</td><td class="tdr">253</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">227</td><td class="tdl">Nancy</td><td class="tdr">234</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">645</td><td class="tdl">Mrs. Smith of Longmains</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">758</td><td class="tdl">“Good-bye, Sweetheart!”</td><td class="tdr">344</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">765</td><td class="tdl">Not Wisely, But Too Well</td><td class="tdr">314</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">767</td><td class="tdl">Joan</td><td class="tdr">362</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">768</td><td class="tdl">Red as a Rose is She</td><td class="tdr">355</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">769</td><td class="tdl">Cometh Up as a Flower</td><td class="tdr">278</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">862</td><td class="tdl">Betty’s Visions</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">894</td><td class="tdl">Doctor Cupid</td><td class="tdr">319</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1599</td><td class="tdl">Alas!</td><td class="tdr">387</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Louise de Bruneval.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1686*</td><td class="tdl">Sœur Louise</td><td class="tdr">175</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Robert Buchanan.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">145</td><td class="tdl">“Storm-Beaten:” God and The Man</td><td class="tdr">208</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">154*</td><td class="tdl">Annan Water</td><td class="tdr">197</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">181*</td><td class="tdl">The New Abelard</td><td class="tdr">176</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">268</td><td class="tdl">The Martyrdom of Madeline</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">398*</td><td class="tdl">Matt</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">468*</td><td class="tdl">The Shadow of the Sword</td><td class="tdr">282</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">646*</td><td class="tdl">The Master of the Mine</td><td class="tdr">189</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">892</td><td class="tdl">That Winter Night; or, Love’s Victory</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1074*</td><td class="tdl">Stormy Waters</td><td class="tdr">238</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1104*</td><td class="tdl">The Heir of Linne</td><td class="tdr">185</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1350</td><td class="tdl">Love Me Forever</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1455*</td><td class="tdl">The Moment After</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Frank T. Bullen.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">2008</td><td class="tdl">The Cruise of the “Catchalot”</td><td class="tdr">258</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>John Bunyan.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1498</td><td class="tdl">The Pilgrim’s Progress. Illustrated</td><td class="tdr">307</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Captain Fred Burnaby.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">330*</td><td class="tdl">“Our Radicals”</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">375</td><td class="tdl">A Ride to Khiva</td><td class="tdr">173</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">384</td><td class="tdl">On Horseback Through Asia Minor</td><td class="tdr">290</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Aaron Ainsworth Burr.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">951</td><td class="tdl">Zo, A Perfect Woman</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>John Bloundelle-Burton.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">918</td><td class="tdl">The Silent Shore; or, The Mystery of St. James’ Park</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Beatrice M. Butt.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1354*</td><td class="tdl">Dellcia</td><td class="tdr">189</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>E. Lasseter Bynner.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1456*</td><td class="tdl">Nimport</td><td class="tdr">494</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1460*</td><td class="tdl">Tritons</td><td class="tdr">406</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Lord Byron.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">719</td><td class="tdl">Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage</td><td class="tdr">163</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>E. Fairfax Byrrne.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">521*</td><td class="tdl">Entangled</td><td class="tdr">251</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">538</td><td class="tdl">A Fair Country Maid</td><td class="tdr">263</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Mrs. Caddy.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">127*</td><td class="tdl">Adrian Bright</td><td class="tdr">400</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Hall Caine.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">445</td><td class="tdl">The Shadow of a Crime</td><td class="tdr">242</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">520</td><td class="tdl">She’s All the World to Me</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1234</td><td class="tdl">The Deemster</td><td class="tdr">343</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1255</td><td class="tdl">The Bondman</td><td class="tdr">357</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2079</td><td class="tdl">A Son of Hagar</td><td class="tdr">354</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Mona Caird.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1699*</td><td class="tdl">The Wing of Azrael</td><td class="tdr">305</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Ada Cambridge.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1583</td><td class="tdl">A Marked Man</td><td class="tdr">355</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1967</td><td class="tdl">My Guardian</td><td class="tdr">250</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2139</td><td class="tdl">The Three Miss Kings</td><td class="tdr">338</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">595</td><td class="tdl">A North Country Main</td><td class="tdr">277</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">796</td><td class="tdl">In a Grass Country</td><td class="tdr">301</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">891*</td><td class="tdl">Vera Nevill; or, Poor Wisdom’s Chance</td><td class="tdr">306</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">912</td><td class="tdl">Pure Gold</td><td class="tdr">401</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">963</td><td class="tdl">Worth Winning</td><td class="tdr">222</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1025</td><td class="tdl">Daisy’s Dilemma</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1028</td><td class="tdl">A Devout Lover; or, A Wasted Love</td><td class="tdr">271</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1070</td><td class="tdl">A Life’s Mistake</td><td class="tdr">176</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1204</td><td class="tdl">The Lodge by the Sea</td><td class="tdr">170</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1205</td><td class="tdl">A Lost Wife</td><td class="tdr">179</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1236</td><td class="tdl">Her Father’s Daughter</td><td class="tdr">256</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1261</td><td class="tdl">Wild George’s Daughter</td><td class="tdr">178</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1290</td><td class="tdl">The Cost of a Lie</td><td class="tdr">178</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1292</td><td class="tdl">Bosky Dell</td><td class="tdr">250</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1782*</td><td class="tdl">A Dead Past</td><td class="tdr">318</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1819*</td><td class="tdl">Neck or Nothing</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Lady Colin Campbell.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1325*</td><td class="tdl">Darell Blake</td><td class="tdr">274</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Rosa Nouchette Carey.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">215</td><td class="tdl">Not Like Other Girls</td><td class="tdr">320</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">396</td><td class="tdl">Robert Ord’s Atonement</td><td class="tdr">376</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">551</td><td class="tdl">Barbara Heathcote’s Trial</td><td class="tdr">538</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">608</td><td class="tdl">For Lilias</td><td class="tdr">399</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">930</td><td class="tdl">Uncle Max</td><td class="tdr">430</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">932</td><td class="tdl">Queenie’s Whim</td><td class="tdr">436</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">934</td><td class="tdl">Wooed and Married</td><td class="tdr">496</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">936</td><td class="tdl">Nellie’s Memories</td><td class="tdr">546</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">961</td><td class="tdl">Wee Wifie</td><td class="tdr">350</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1033</td><td class="tdl">Esther: A Story for Girls</td><td class="tdr">194</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1064</td><td class="tdl">Only the Governess</td><td class="tdr">323</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1135</td><td class="tdl">Aunt Diana</td><td class="tdr">177</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1194</td><td class="tdl">The Search for Basil Lyndhurst</td><td class="tdr">468</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1208</td><td class="tdl">Merle’s Crusade</td><td class="tdr">226</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1545</td><td class="tdl">Lover or Friend?</td><td class="tdr">487</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1879</td><td class="tdl">Mary St. John</td><td class="tdr">407</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1965</td><td class="tdl">Averil</td><td class="tdr">217</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1966</td><td class="tdl">Our Bessie</td><td class="tdr">244</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1968</td><td class="tdl">Heriot’s Choice</td><td class="tdr">440</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Capt. L. C. Carleton.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1902</td><td class="tdl">The Man of Death</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1907</td><td class="tdl">Eagle Eyes, the Scout</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1910</td><td class="tdl">The Trapper’s Retreat</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1911</td><td class="tdl">The Wild Man of the Woods. Illustrated</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>William Carleton.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1493</td><td class="tdl">Willy Reilly</td><td class="tdr">458</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1552</td><td class="tdl">Shane Fadh’s Wedding</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1553</td><td class="tdl">Larry McFarland’s Wake</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1554</td><td class="tdl">The Party Fight and Funeral</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1556</td><td class="tdl">The Midnight Mass</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1557</td><td class="tdl">Phil Purcel</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1558</td><td class="tdl">An Irish Oath</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1560</td><td class="tdl">Going to Maynooth</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1561</td><td class="tdl">Phelim O’Toole’s Courtship</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1562</td><td class="tdl">Dominick, the Poor Scholar</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1564</td><td class="tdl">Neal Malone</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>“Carolus.”</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">2210</td><td class="tdl">The Story of L’Aiglon</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Alice Comyne Carr.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">571*</td><td class="tdl">Paul Crew’s Story</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Lewis Carroll.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">462</td><td class="tdl">Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Illustrated by John Tenniel</td><td class="tdr">189</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">789</td><td class="tdl">Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There.<br>Illustrated by John Tenniel</td><td class="tdr">230</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Cervantes.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1576</td><td class="tdl">Don Quixote</td><td class="tdr">635</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>L. W. Champuey.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1468*</td><td class="tdl">Bourbon Lilies</td><td class="tdr">388</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Erckmann-Chatrian.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">329</td><td class="tdl">The Bells; or, The Polish Jew.<br>(Translated from the French by Caroline A. Merighi)</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Victor Cherbuliez.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1516*</td><td class="tdl">Samuel Brohl & Co.</td><td class="tdr">222</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Mary Cholmondeley.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">2217</td><td class="tdl">The Danvers Jewels</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Mrs. C. M. Clarke.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1801*</td><td class="tdl">More True than Truthful</td><td class="tdr">232</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>W. M. Clemens.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1544</td><td class="tdl">Famous Funny Fellows</td><td class="tdr">214</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Captain Clewline.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1912</td><td class="tdl">The Boy Whalers</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1913</td><td class="tdl">The Island Demon</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Mrs. W. K. Clifford.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">546</td><td class="tdl">Mrs. Keith’s Crime</td><td class="tdr">172</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">2104</td><td class="tdl">Love Letters of a Worldly Woman</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Sylvanus Cobb, Jr.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1949</td><td class="tdl">The Queen’s Revenge</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1950</td><td class="tdl">Ivan, the Serf</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>J. Maclaren Cobban.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">485*</td><td class="tdl">Tinted Vapours</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1279*</td><td class="tdl">Master of His Fate</td><td class="tdr">193</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1511*</td><td class="tdl">A Reverend Gentleman</td><td class="tdr">320</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>John Coleman.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">504</td><td class="tdl">Curly: An Actor’s Story</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>C. R. Coleridge.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">403*</td><td class="tdl">An English Squire</td><td class="tdr">266</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1689*</td><td class="tdl">A Near Relation</td><td class="tdr">265</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Beatrice Collensie.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">1352*</td><td class="tdl">A Double Marriage</td><td class="tdr">267</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Mabel Collins.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">749</td><td class="tdl">Lord Vanecourt’s Daughter</td><td class="tdr">324</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">828</td><td class="tdl">The Prettiest Woman in Warsaw</td><td class="tdr">288</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1463</td><td class="tdl">Ida: An Adventure in Morocco</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Wilkie Collins.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">52</td><td class="tdl">The New Magdalen</td><td class="tdr">234</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">102</td><td class="tdl">The Moonstone</td><td class="tdr">352</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">167</td><td class="tdl">Heart and Science</td><td class="tdr">250</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">168</td><td class="tdl">No Thoroughfare. By Dickens and Collins</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">175</td><td class="tdl">Love’s Random Shot, and Other Stories</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">233</td><td class="tdl">“I Say No;” or, The Love-Letter Answered</td><td class="tdr">237</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">508</td><td class="tdl">The Girl at the Gate</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">591</td><td class="tdl">The Queen of Hearts</td><td class="tdr">366</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">613</td><td class="tdl">The Ghost’s Touch, and Percy and the Prophet</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">623</td><td class="tdl">My Lady’s Money</td><td class="tdr">167</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">701</td><td class="tdl">The Woman in White</td><td class="tdr">628</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">702</td><td class="tdl">Man and Wife</td><td class="tdr">614</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">764</td><td class="tdl">The Evil Genius</td><td class="tdr">300</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">896</td><td class="tdl">The Guilty River</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">946</td><td class="tdl">The Dead Secret</td><td class="tdr">348</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">977</td><td class="tdl">The Haunted Hotel</td><td class="tdr">197</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1029</td><td class="tdl">Armadale</td><td class="tdr">676</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1095</td><td class="tdl">The Legacy of Cain</td><td class="tdr">281</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1119</td><td class="tdl">No Name</td><td class="tdr">623</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1269</td><td class="tdl">Blind Love</td><td class="tdr">313</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1347</td><td class="tdl">A Rogue’s Life</td><td class="tdr">188</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1608</td><td class="tdl">Tales of Two Idle Apprentices. By Dickens and Collins</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>M. J. Colquhoun.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">624*</td><td class="tdl">Primus in Indis</td><td class="tdr">162</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1469*</td><td class="tdl">Every Inch a Soldier</td><td class="tdr">286</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Lucy Randall Comfort.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">2072</td><td class="tdl">For Marjorie’s Sake</td><td class="tdr">198</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Hugh Conway.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">240</td><td class="tdl">Called Back</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">251*</td><td class="tdl">The Daughter of the Stars, and Other Tales</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">301</td><td class="tdl">Dark Days</td><td class="tdr">197</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">302*</td><td class="tdl">The Blatchford Bequest</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">341*</td><td class="tdl">A Dead Man’s Face</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">502*</td><td class="tdl">Carriston’s Gift</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">525</td><td class="tdl">Paul Vargas, and Other Stories</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">543</td><td class="tdl">A Family Affair</td><td class="tdr">206</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">601*</td><td class="tdl">Slings and Arrows, and Other Stories</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">711</td><td class="tdl">A Cardinal Sin</td><td class="tdr">351</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">804</td><td class="tdl">Living or Dead</td><td class="tdr">279</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">830</td><td class="tdl">Bound by a Spell</td><td class="tdr">169</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1353</td><td class="tdl">All In One</td><td class="tdr">206</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1684*</td><td class="tdl">Story of a Sculptor</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">1722*</td><td class="tdl">Somebody’s Story</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Ralph Connor.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">2209</td><td class="tdl">Black Rock</td><td class="tdr"> </td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>Edward H. Cooper.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">2182</td><td class="tdl">The Marchioness Against the County</td><td class="tdr">205</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3>J. Fenimore Cooper.</h3> + +<table class="seaside"> +<tr><td class="tdr">60</td><td class="tdl">The Last of the Mohicans</td><td class="tdr">346</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr">63</td><td class="tdl">The Spy</td><td class="tdr">278</td></tr> +</table> + +<hr> + +<p class="center">25 Cents a Copy, or Five Copies for $1, Post-paid.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2>THE SWEETHEART SERIES.</h2> +</div> + +<p>This series contains the most popular books of the day. +They are 12mos, printed on good paper, in large, clear type, +and bound in handsome photogravure covers.</p> + +<table> +<tr><td>51</td><td>A Fiery Ordeal</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>52</td><td>Between Two Loves</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>53</td><td>Beyond Pardon</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>54</td><td>A Bitter Atonement</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>55</td><td>A Broken Wedding-Ring</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>56</td><td>Dora Thorne</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>57</td><td>The Earl’s Atonement</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>58</td><td>Evelyn’s Folly</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>59</td><td>A Golden Heart</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>60</td><td>Her Martyrdom</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>61</td><td>Her Second Love</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>62</td><td>Lady Damer’s Secret</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>63</td><td>Lady Hutton’s Ward</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>64</td><td>Lord Lisle’s Daughter</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>65</td><td>A Study in Scarlet</td><td>A. Conan Doyle</td></tr> +<tr><td>66</td><td>Lord Lynne’s Choice</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>67</td><td>Love Works Wonders</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>68</td><td>Prince Charlie’s Daughter</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>69</td><td>Put Asunder; or, Lady Castlemaine’s Divorce</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>70</td><td>Repented at Leisure</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>71</td><td>A Struggle for a Ring</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>72</td><td>Sunshine and Roses</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>73</td><td>Thorns and Orange-Blossoms</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>74</td><td>The Honorable Mrs. Vereker</td><td>“The Duchess”</td></tr> +<tr><td>75</td><td>Under-Currents</td><td>“The Duchess”</td></tr> +<tr><td>76</td><td>A Born Coquette</td><td>“The Duchess”</td></tr> +<tr><td>77</td><td>Under a Shadow</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>78</td><td>Weaker Than a Woman</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>79</td><td>Wedded and Parted</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>80</td><td>Which Loved Him Best?</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>81</td><td>Wife in Name Only</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>82</td><td>A Woman’s Temptation</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>83</td><td>A Queen Amongst Women</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>84</td><td>Madolin’s Lover</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>85</td><td>Only the Governess</td><td>Rosa N. Carey</td></tr> +<tr><td>86</td><td>Camille</td><td>Alexander Dumas</td></tr> +<tr><td>87</td><td>The Sin of a Lifetime</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>88</td><td>Love’s Warfare</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>89</td><td>’Twixt Smile and Tear</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>90</td><td>Sweet Cymbeline</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>91</td><td>April’s Lady</td><td>“The Duchess”</td></tr> +<tr><td>92</td><td>Vendetta!</td><td>Marie Corelli</td></tr> +<tr><td>93</td><td>The Squire’s Darling</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>94</td><td>The Gambler’s Wife</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>95</td><td>A Fatal Dower</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>96</td><td>Her Mother’s Sin</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>97</td><td>Romance of a Black Veil</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>98</td><td>A Rose in Thorns</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>99</td><td>Lord Elesmere’s Wife</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>100</td><td>The Dolly Dialogues</td><td>Anthony Hope</td></tr> +<tr><td>101</td><td>The Kreutzer Sonata</td><td>Count Lyof Tolstoi</td></tr> +<tr><td>102</td><td>Anna Karénine</td><td>Count Lyof Tolstoi</td></tr> +<tr><td>103</td><td>The Mystery of Woodleigh Grange</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>104</td><td>Martha; or, The Story of a Clergyman’s Daughter</td><td>W. Heimburg</td></tr> +<tr><td>105</td><td>His Word of Honor; or, What the Spring Brought</td><td>E. Werner</td></tr> +<tr><td>106</td><td>She Fell in Love With Her Husband; + or, “Good Luck;” + or, Success, and How He Won It</td><td>E. Werner</td></tr> +<tr><td>107</td><td>Ivan, the Serf</td><td>Sylvanus Cobb, Jr.</td></tr> +<tr><td>108</td><td>The Queen’s Revenge</td><td>Sylvanus Cobb, Jr.</td></tr> +<tr><td>109</td><td>The Price He Paid</td><td>E. Werner</td></tr> +<tr><td>110</td><td>The Master of Ettersberg</td><td>E. Werner</td></tr> +<tr><td>111</td><td>Tempest and Sunshine Mary</td><td>Mary J. Holmes</td></tr> +<tr><td>112</td><td>The Homestead on the Hillside</td><td>Mary J. Holmes</td></tr> +<tr><td>113</td><td>The English Orphans</td><td>Mary J. Holmes</td></tr> +<tr><td>114</td><td>The Boat Club</td><td>Oliver Optic</td></tr> +<tr><td>115</td><td>Ballads and Other Verses</td><td>Rudyard Kipling</td></tr> +<tr><td>116</td><td>The Drums of the Fore and Aft</td><td>Rudyard Kipling</td></tr> +<tr><td>117</td><td>The Royal Chase</td><td>Amédée Achard</td></tr> +<tr><td>118</td><td>Little Goldie</td><td>Mrs. Sumner Hayden</td></tr> +<tr><td>119</td><td>Inez: A Tale of the Alamo</td><td>Augusta J. Evans</td></tr> +<tr><td>120</td><td>All Aboard!</td><td>Oliver Optic</td></tr> +<tr><td>121</td><td>Now or Never</td><td>Oliver Optic</td></tr> +<tr><td>122</td><td>Lena Rivers</td><td>Mary J. Holmes</td></tr> +<tr><td>123</td><td>Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyúm</td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td>124</td><td>She Loved Him</td><td>Charles Garvice</td></tr> +<tr><td>125</td><td>In His Steps. “What Would Jesus Do?”</td><td>Rev. C. M. Sheldon</td></tr> +<tr><td>126</td><td>Meadow Brook</td><td>Mary J. Holmes</td></tr> +<tr><td>127</td><td>The Iron Pirate</td><td>Max Pemberton</td></tr> +<tr><td>128</td><td>The Hypocrite</td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td>129</td><td>Dead Man’s Rock</td><td>“Q” (Arthur T. Quiller-Couch)</td></tr> +<tr><td>130</td><td>The Phantom Future</td><td>Henry S. Merriman</td></tr> +<tr><td>131</td><td>Prisoners and Captives</td><td>Henry S. Merriman</td></tr> +<tr><td>132</td><td>A Parisian Romance</td><td>Octave Feuillet</td></tr> +<tr><td>133</td><td>Carmen: The Power of Love</td><td>Prosper Merimée</td></tr> +<tr><td>134</td><td>Prue and I</td><td>George Wm. Curtis</td></tr> +<tr><td>135</td><td>The Heiress of Glen Gower</td><td>May Agnes Fleming</td></tr> +<tr><td>136</td><td>Magdalen’s Vow</td><td>May Agnes Fleming</td></tr> +<tr><td>137</td><td>Who Wins?</td><td>May Agnes Fleming</td></tr> +<tr><td>138</td><td>Lady Evelyn</td><td>May Agnes Fleming</td></tr> +<tr><td>139</td><td>Estella’s Husband</td><td>May Agnes Fleming</td></tr> +<tr><td>140</td><td>The Baronet’s Bride</td><td>May Agnes Fleming</td></tr> +<tr><td>141</td><td>The Unseen Bridegroom</td><td>May Agnes Fleming</td></tr> +<tr><td>142</td><td>Young Mistley</td><td>Henry S. Merriman</td></tr> +<tr><td>143</td><td>The Sherlock Holmes Detective Stories</td><td>A. Conan Doyle</td></tr> +<tr><td>144</td><td>A Girl of the Klondike</td><td>Victoria Cross</td></tr> +<tr><td>145</td><td>Paula. A Sketch from Life</td><td>Victoria Cross</td></tr> +<tr><td>146</td><td>Sappho</td><td>Alphonse Daudet</td></tr> +<tr><td>147</td><td>Manon Lescant</td><td>L’Abbé Prévost</td></tr> +<tr><td>148</td><td>The Dance of Death</td><td>Jean Corey</td></tr> +<tr><td>149</td><td>A Charity Girl</td><td>Effie A. Rowlands</td></tr> +<tr><td>150</td><td>Husband and Foe</td><td>Effie A. Rowlands</td></tr> +<tr><td>151</td><td>Little Lady Charles</td><td>Effie A. Rowlands</td></tr> +<tr><td>152</td><td>Cast Up by the Tide</td><td>Dora Delmar</td></tr> +<tr><td>153</td><td>The Scent of the Roses</td><td>Dora Delmar</td></tr> +<tr><td>154</td><td>Hearts And Lives</td><td>Wenona Gilman</td></tr> +<tr><td>155</td><td>Blind Dan’s Daughter</td><td>Wenona Gilman</td></tr> +<tr><td>156</td><td>Val, the Tomboy</td><td>Wenona Gilman</td></tr> +<tr><td>157</td><td>My Little Princess</td><td>Wenona Gilman</td></tr> +<tr><td>158</td><td>The Banker’s Daughter</td><td>Magdalen Barrett</td></tr> +<tr><td>159</td><td>The Depth of Love</td><td>Hannah Blomgren</td></tr> +<tr><td>160</td><td>His Legal Wife</td><td>Mary E. Bryan</td></tr> +<tr><td>161</td><td>Lillian’s Vow</td><td>Mrs. E. Burke Collins</td></tr> +<tr><td>162</td><td>Sold for Gold</td><td>Mrs. E. Burke Collins</td></tr> +<tr><td>163</td><td>A Heart of Fire</td><td>Jean Corey</td></tr> +<tr><td>164</td><td>Shadow and Sunshine</td><td>Adna H. Lightner</td></tr> +<tr><td>165</td><td>Lady Gay’s Pride</td><td>Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller</td></tr> +<tr><td>166</td><td>Lancaster’s Choice</td><td>Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller</td></tr> +<tr><td>167</td><td>Tiger-Lily</td><td>Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller</td></tr> +<tr><td>168</td><td>The Pearl and the Ruby</td><td>Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller</td></tr> +<tr><td>169</td><td>Eric Braddon’s Love</td><td>Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller</td></tr> +<tr><td>170</td><td>Little Sweetheart</td><td>Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller</td></tr> +<tr><td>171</td><td>Flower and Jewel</td><td>Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller</td></tr> +<tr><td>172</td><td>Little Nobody</td><td>Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller</td></tr> +<tr><td>173</td><td>Under Five Lakes</td><td>M. Quad</td></tr> +<tr><td>174</td><td>Her Second Choice</td><td>Charlotte M. Stanley</td></tr> +<tr><td>175</td><td>His Country Cousin</td><td>Charlotte M. Stanley</td></tr> +<tr><td>176</td><td>Frou-Frou</td><td>Charlotte M. Stanley</td></tr> +<tr><td>177</td><td>The Little Light-House Lass</td><td>Elizabeth Stiles</td></tr> +<tr><td>178</td><td>The Man She Loved</td><td>Effie A. Rowlands</td></tr> +<tr><td>179</td><td>An Impossible Thing</td><td>Katharine Wynne</td></tr> +<tr><td>180</td><td>Woman, the Mystery</td><td>Henry Herman</td></tr> +<tr><td>181</td><td>Christie Johnstone</td><td>Charles Reade</td></tr> +<tr><td>182</td><td>The Blithedale Romance</td><td>Nathan’l Hawthorne</td></tr> +<tr><td>183</td><td>Through Green Glasses</td><td>F. M. Allen</td></tr> +<tr><td>184</td><td>One Man’s Evil Effie</td><td>A. Rowlands</td></tr> +<tr><td>185</td><td>A Willful Maid</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +<tr><td>186</td><td>A Woman’s Love Story</td><td>Charlotte M. Braeme</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>For sale by all newsdealers and booksellers, or sent, postpaid on receipt +of 25 cents each, or five copies for $1.00, by the publishers.</p> + +<p class="center">Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS,</p> +<p class="right">17 to 27 <span class="smcap">Vandewater Street, New York</span>.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2>THE CELEBRATED +<br> +<span class="large">SOHMER</span></h2></div> + +<p class="center">Heads the List of the Highest-Grade Pianos, and<br> + +Are the +favorite +of the Artist +and the +refined +Musical public.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe54_625" id="i2"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i2.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + + +<p class="center"><i>Every Genuine SOHMER Piano has the following Trade +mark stamped upon the sounding-board.</i></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe43_5" id="i3"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i3.jpg" alt="Imitations of the “SOHMER PIANO” have +compelled the firm to adopt the above +“TRADE MARK”"> +</figure> + + +<p class="center large">SOHMER & CO.,</p> +<p class="center">NEW YORK WAREROOMS:</p> +<p class="center medium">Sohmer Building, Fifth Avenue, Cor. 22d Street.</p> + +<hr class="r5"> + +<p class="center small">CAUTION.—The buying public will please not confound the genuine S-O-H-M-E-R +Piano with one of a similar sounding name of a cheap grade.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="transnote"> +<div class="chapter"> +<h2>Transcriber’s Notes:</h2> +</div> + +<p>Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.</p> + +<p>Table of contents has been added and placed into the public domain by +the transcriber. +</p> +</div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76634 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/76634-h/images/cover.jpg b/76634-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..941cbae --- /dev/null +++ b/76634-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/76634-h/images/i0.jpg b/76634-h/images/i0.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..89f82fa --- /dev/null +++ b/76634-h/images/i0.jpg diff --git a/76634-h/images/i1.jpg b/76634-h/images/i1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..19ba33b --- /dev/null +++ b/76634-h/images/i1.jpg diff --git a/76634-h/images/i2.jpg b/76634-h/images/i2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..041d160 --- /dev/null +++ b/76634-h/images/i2.jpg diff --git a/76634-h/images/i3.jpg b/76634-h/images/i3.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..20404f5 --- /dev/null +++ b/76634-h/images/i3.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bb3f09d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #76634 +(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/76634) |
