A Heart's Bitterness

Auckland Star, Volume XVII, Issue 298, 18 December 1886, Page 3

A Heart's Bitterness

B y BERTHA M. CLAY,

Mt borol'' ForAnothor' BS' A" Mretery." &Ot

.a,""A Fair

COPTER .XVI,

IS THE WAY. t*jt Oovm tesß of Leigh' now stood in erilouß places. On the one hand, ffloS*i difference of a husband so little in *' tby with her; on the other> th 3 of her early love for Keith betrayed "^Vvironed by such dangeis, how "' young and lovely women have gone *^ to roineiethey were aware! (Vld w'^ v' aß ia beurt an^ cx PerienceJ tffas entering on a long and terrible "° , ghould she come out of it unthe garments of her womanly ""•rt still white as snow, or was it written ■'"her fet«that Viol6t Lei2h WM bOrn° no* !l.to Borrow but to reproach? Tmornnt, impulsive, and untried as a Jbchild, she yet realised her jeopardy n she fait her beart loa P and melt at the dof Keith's step and voice and at the idling glances of his beautiful bluo eyes. LhivaWc nature was in harmony with & ZrJv sweetness :he was like .1 true ffif he oldon time, and ehe like the jjJVe for whom such knight would face VnJL. free to love him, how could she *JS£ptfa theshelter of him whohad •*:.{the altar to love and protect her? Si'" the scone ia thS Barde"8 arde" of the Violet resolved to avoid such • L.temeetings in the future. cS^id n-t see her husband until dinner Jdtfafter the duk.'s /etc. She was iLdf for the opera when she came in 7L,, WM a biue Chinese craps, caught fit/of myo^is, and the clouds of Iffed lace that lay over her neck and arms mTbeld by bands of pearl and turquoise. ITcoatanie was very becoming. Lord Leigh nodded approval. _ "Thatferight, These fastidiou? Parisians H Xi no fault with that. There will be Mi of admirers about our box, I tancy. ftald[Keith we Bhould see him there. «ffhy did you do that? I do not think soyone gentleman should be singled out for "TriLeW" burst into a laugh. "There spoke the prudery of that exceljpt bat commonplace person, your Aunt "T-used to know Lord Keith," said Violet, flashing painfully, and looking down aioiieconfeaeingacrime. "Yes; so you tolcJ me before. "And—l 'iked him—much," said the Htle coontesp, her red lips trembling. "No doubt. Everyone likes Keith." "And be liked me." "Showed his good taste," eaid Lord l*h, eating truffle. "My aunt—warned me," said \ inlet, nady to cry, but nobly resisting tears, "that if any one young man paid me attention people might make remarks, and—you ajght be angry." "Bless your goal! said her husband, lift coolest indifforenc, " I shall not be BSiy. You have a quantity of poetry ndromance, but altogether of the Tennyson sort. Who is going to ba jealous of ™! One might as well expect a woman if aow to take fire as such a cool liitle creature aa you to stir up in a passion." This to Violet, whose soul was scorched mth a lava tide of leve, despair, terror, smona for her distrust! She looked down iartony despair of ever making him underttaod her. "Don't imagine yourself into a threevolnmfl novel, Lady Leigh," Baid her lord, atthat instant critical of the salad. "There ia not the making of it at hand. Get your noTels st the circulating library, not out of you own life. Our daily existence is too thin and pale for plot. You hava my full •warraoltojbe agreeable to all who call at onrboL Ho one will hang about you more thin J<flTabout Lady Clare, and who wtdithtr

"Idaa't boo .what you find attractive in WyClaro," said Violet, firing up, for she wu naturally jealous. '■Ho! I like her cold atyie ; and her pjiridan face shows pure blood, if she is jjjm. I wish you could learn to sweep a tea with your glass, or look a person down, as Lady Clare does. But the has one chum, she has the most beautiful bands lod&rniß in the world.'*

"Lid shows them off all the time," cried Tiolßt,

"Who wouldn't when they are sc superb! Now yours are too slender," said her tehand, with refreshing frankness. Violet was ashamed of herself that sha had ehown any pettiebness about her com The-nature of Lady Leigh was generous and noble. She desired to change tha conv&sation, and so cease to discuss lady Clare. " When are we going to Switzerland ? I ffi tired of Paris."

"lot aa start Friday, if you do not fear the day. Are you in ha?te to get away bom lady Clare? Surely you are not doing me the honour to be jealous of me!"

"No, lam not. Only love is jealous," tad Violet, angrily. "Fie, child, don't be angry. Why do n cone on the verge of quarrels conitanUy? We need a third party to keep the peace between us. I mean to ask Keith to join aa in Switzerland. He will be good company." 4cold terror fell on Violet's heart. She wse, went round to her husband's side, slid her little hand through his arm, and eaid, softly: .. * '■

"Norman, I am very sorry I spoke so. Utostry to understand each other better, tod get on more happily, Let us pro alone to Switzerland, and 16am to find our pleasure in each .other's company." "Any way you like,, child,'' said Lord «igh,"only there is.the servant returning, and if-I might* suggest—" Violet slid back into her own place. That evening, at the opera, between acts, Kenneth Keith made his way to Violet's »i. Leigh welcomed him. 'Keith,1' he said after a fow momenta, eomo with us to Switzerland. You'll understand Lady Leigh's raptures over Bcmery much better than I phall." "Tiinfc how long Lord Keith has been •wentfrom England," said Violet. "He mb haste to get back." lam condemned to longer exile." said »6ltb, "ac »y mother has been called to a Wkrelative, and writes me not to go to Keith Castle/until she can meet me there." "hat settles it," said Leigh. " Come "Switzerland. I'll depend on you for all about'gentian belle," and 'rosy •IS' 'steaming glaciers.' I pro--5"« to go. to* Lady Glare Montressor's box-. »™U leave my wife in your care ?" Much as he loved Violet.. Lord Kenneth *»«*. loved honour more. Violet's timidity •Mher husband's conßd: nee called him to ■J Mtene and easy paths of simple friendW He summoned all his tact, and when ™°y left the opera house Violet's heart felt «Wrt. What had she feared, what had she S.iJ Bhe had loßt ln Keitb a lovrer- but "Su? gained a friend and brother. What "Jfjwmore sweet? iou'll come along with us, Keith T— Wi^^Ws'" said Leigh, as Keith stood "Jtheir carriage. . i ™f* locked at Violet, and the happy, S^'Mkin the ingenuous brown eyes him for the path of danger. He "iMwerea. "I will meet you there." *Lfn wa* jost turning from the carriage, «i™ a figure came between him and the ■"ft an arm was reached forth, and a TJ» s voice said: lJS n TdtoPP°d th»B." itojFJpßhkirlv snatched the handker- !, J|? ld oat by the extended hand. » *•»« on! Why do you block the "V" i °9ct'6d j angrily, to the coachman. l^ 10"*, do lean back in your seat: To fo, m - 1?' *'Crowdthat way is surely bad Wonto nm y°ur remarks at dinner one "impact something better." 1,, i,tho«?ht the person who gave you the •tot .6^ was tho Englishwom who ""»teaching-me embroidery." "here"' venturerß hang about every,,s™ Baid her name was Helen Hope" , Aook it out of a directory, no doubt." tlehf M Bure caw kpr *n la nouse to" 1" 8 you while you into n y?u Ree ""QI ** trouble you get mo Jv T by taking up with stray or/venturers,'' ££}*U!h coolly. "No doubt she will be "7>6lnfpnß fir fifty pounds, for a country .owindiatrees. "wil1 you nsver m6et: her before'" tion I" nonß^nse !to a*k such a clues' ' t But dii you ?" persisted Violet* No, I did, not," eaid Leigh, tartly.

nnwt* WrfS aure he wa3 tollinS her an untr utni a , jd ehe th ht 0{ it with I'hen sho blamod herself for pressing him to it. But, would not she have answered any question frankly? She felt sure she would. Meanwhile Leigh know that the handkerchief given him contained a note, and he cursed his fate that he was pursued by Helen Hope. Finally in his dreseing-room he unfolded tho scrap of paper tied in ono corner of the kerchief. " Mot t me on tho Pont la Concorde to-morrow oveninjr, nt tw.lve o'clock, unless you prefer to sea ma at your roams.—Helen II." One clear and open course was before Lord Leigh. Ho could have allowed his enemy to pursuelhimto his own homo if she dared, and have defied her. With Violet he had nothing to lose. But, unfortunately, he had pretended to Violet that this womau waa a total stranger. The crooked paths of deceit were more natural to Leigh than the highway of truth. All the terrors of his fate came upon him from the lack of moral courage to meet and brave in clear light tho danger that lay in his way.

CHAPTER XVII. ON THE BRIDGE AT MIDNIGHT,

The splendid mansion of the Duchess ot Pontulba, next to the British Embassy, "as a blaze of light and magnificence. Carriage after carriage rolled up, and left at the stately portul fair nnd richly dressed women, andmen titled, ronownod,decorated with tho orders of many kingdoms.

Amon<r the throng which passed over the strip of velvet carpet, under the damask canopy, and so up the marble steps, guarded by tall urn?, filled with gorgeous- tropic plants, was Lord Leigh, with Violet, his wife. Lord Loigh, possossor of an old name, a vast estate, and the hand of the richest he'ross in England, was the centre of alll eyos, and the envy of most, hearts, as he led his bride to salute the Duchesa of Pontalba

The stately Franch duchess could not understand why a eudden mist cama over her eyes as s-he looked at the little peeress. But the childish head of Violet, with its brown, eiikon rings of hair seemed all unequal to her coronet of gems, and the slender figure in tho rroamcaloured broc-ide, cut square in the neck, and with the l^ng, sweeping tra'.D, lnoked more childish than ever, while the dishing diamonds, turning in fiery points on nock, arms, and bosom, mocked the wondering, pathetic brown eyos. The Duc'riG^s ot Pont^lba held with a lingering clasp the head of the Countess of Leigh, and said wirh a sinking heart :

"Sonnhoavy fate pursue-j this winsome creature "

Rut when the gorgeous assembly rooms wero filled, and in tho smiling, talking, dancing throng one could not bo misled, Neman Leigh wrapped a cloak about him, and pacing from the glittering fcune, went with rapid step through the Rue Koyal and the Placa de la Goncordo out upon tho Pont de la Concordo to the meeting to which ho had been summoned. Tha gas light? flimed on either side of the r-'eino, and tho shadow of the huge stone bridge lay dark upon the water, Leigh seated himself on the heavy parapet, and looked moodily at tho river running blackly under the fine frowning arches. Pare of these huge granite blocks had been in Uio hopeless, fateful walls of the Bastille ; but never had beaten near them a heart harder than that of Norman Leigh, nor stormier than that of tho woman who had summoned him to this tryst. Sitting there in his cloak, his anna folded on his bosom, his eyes on the dirk river, with its ripples lit with reflected fire, Leigh caught the observant glance of a pausing memper of the Paris dotective force. Tho man, wieo in the study of men, cave him a scrutinizing look, and summed him up in a few word. " Quiet now, but ripe for mischief." He did not know that his subject was an English peer, and well esteemed ; he read him without the aid of accidents of Lirth and position, and as he wont on, photographed him on his memory. " Eyes keen, but furtive, and much too near together ; chin weak, mouth -if that handsome mustache were off—cruel; colour fine, figu;e good; teeth too whito and pointed ; hard, cruel man, has one idol and one object—himself. It ha 3 been my ex perienca that intensely selfish men aroof all men most dangerous." Thus eominaning with himself tho detective pn.=sed off the bridgo into the Place de la Concorde, and as ho did so met a woman coming upon the bridge. The hour being late, the pa3eengera there were few.

Norman Leigh heard the steps and the trailing of tho woman's gown, but he never moved or spoke. She went by him an 1 returned, but ttill his eye? were on the' Seine Then she stopped and held out her bands with a cry as if wrenched from her by some mighty throe of agony. '■ Norman, ppeak to me ! He 'urned his face slowly to hor. " What is the meaning of all this nonsense—this mooting?" "It means that I must and will see

yOU. " This all might as well be ended first aa last. I had supposed'that my marrying would finish your folly." - "When one cannot live for lovo one lives for vengeance." "That sounds tragic, but it doea not suit the nineteenth century ;it belongs to tho middle ages and the theatre I meet you tonight simply to make you hear feme You have been received to marry me. You fancied th.it you could be Coantoss of Leich. You see that is for over ended. "If I had only krown tooner. If I had not been hald fast in my b.:d by fever, you should not have married." "I do not think you could have prevented it. But that is all done. »it is mon«y you demand, Helen, I am willing to be liberal, on condition that you keap entirely away from me and my wife " " I will not have a penny of your money till I have all you have," cried Ellen Hope, furiously. _ . , " That is arrant folly," suid Lord Leigh, calmly. , , "You may be free again," panted eva ; " men -get free by divorce or by death, lou only married for money." "That may be. How much _T needed may be known when it outweighed the rank and blood of Clare Montressor and the beauty of Edna Ambrose." " And for me—did you never think or me?" she wailed. He looked in silence at the rivor. " Tell me -if you were free, would you marry roe ?" "No, I would not." " Mark my words," she said with concentrated fury. "You shall marry me or die ! You shall be mine, in life or in death. I will sifc by your side as Countess of Leigh, or we two will go down to death together, and if I cannot have love, I will have vengeance." He shuddered at her -tone; it hart a weight aa of prophecy in it. She towared in her fury as a sibyl. •• Helen Hope, what have I done, more than other men, that I Bhould be pursued in this fashion ?" . " Hear my wrongs," she said, in her low,, distinct tones. "My inheritance has been race, passion, selfishness, envy, fury revenge—all the passions called evil, with pride, genius, ambition-a capacity for lovinp. I have no name, and no kindred. I Took cold, haughty, hard, I have alwayß been repressed and neglected^ No father praised me, no mother cradled me From some good blood I know 1 aorane- my instincts, my features, my form, ray hand and foot, do not come of beggar blood As a child, nameless, and set aside for scorn, I was reared by an unloving nurse, and then sent to a school <vher? I was despised by the teachers and pupils-tradesmen's girls, who knew their parentage. No pains were spent on me, but I instinctively acquired all the ao^ comolishments that the others in the school so hardly gained—languages,, music, dancinT drawing, I excelled in-and by thee I secured the place of governed to Edna Ambrose. Who ever was more ambitious than I? Who craved love ""'You thought you exercised your patrician rioht wbon you triflsd with me, a poor, fonely girl. I had no one to revenge me. Prates gifts, flatteries, had ne-or•before B»V sh-e. I bfeve^nthat you aai d • T fancier! it a new tale of King Oonnet ,a and the Begsar-Maid ; I grew to adore you because I thought you looped from high ertate to lift me to your own rank ilililli envied the air that blew about yon, the very servants who waited you were my one thought in life, I. found you at her feet protecting your passion for her, and when she told V(M she i supp«ad you cared for me, you laughed the idea to fcorn, and said you never had had such a thought-that she was mistaken—mat you

had merely been a little kind to a forlorn eoul. lam a forlorn soul; you have made me doubly ao. Norman Leigh, I stand between love and hato. I swear to you yen shall once more be free to chooao a wife, and you shall choose me, or die I" " You are mad," said Leigh, with a thrill of four. Her mood changed. Sho came closer, and laid her hand on his arm. "Tell me you do love me-that you aro not all false—you could not have "lied so infinitely. Consider, all 'he.love that others spend on kindred and friends I garnored up in my heart and gave it all to you. You hive now the fortune you needed. I can wait. That wife of yours is a little frail creature. Sho may die, or something may happen—swear, that if ever you are free yon will marry mo—l will wait." " Wretch ! Should I tempt you to murder? >Jo !" " Hear mo," she said. "I am resolved to bo Countess of Leigh. You shall be free, and you Bhall be glad to marry me. Tho fortune you needed to restore your estate ia yours. I will be no wife to be anhamod of; I know how to hold my own ; there ia good blood in my V6ins. I will not; bo hinderod of the one hop? of my life. Mark my words — you nha.ll man-// me or die with me I" A curious wish that ho might fling her into the rivor rose in Leigh's heart. She seemed resolute to haunt and ruin him ; between the passion of love and of revenge she waa mnd, and ready for any evil deed, and his futuro looked blncl; in her shadow. •'I thought once," sho said, " that if I could part you and Edna <\mbroi?G I should dio content,; I thought if 1 saw her grieve over your desertion 1 should know what it was to be glnd. You loft her ; «he grieved but lam net contont, You left her bocauso she lacked fortune. You were hasty : sho is rich now : only a month ago sho inherited a fortune from her uncle and took tho name of Haviland." "That ia nothing to mo," euid Leiph <; This talk ia all idlo. Go your way, nnd I will go mino. Anything in reason to eatiefy you I will do, but I will not come to hoar threats and protestations." Ho returned hastily to the pptondours of the ball-ro mi, and left Helen Hope nosunu into the black dopths of tho rivor.

CI.IAPTEU 'XVIII.

NOW I SICE AND AM KUUE OP MY 11EVKNCE. Morning in Berne, tlm first Swiss town where Lord Leigh and Violet have taniod. Afar oft' fleams the hoary head of Mount Blanc ; Motito Kosa, in a veil of pink light, blooms against tho blue sky likosomo great, glorious flower. No:ir by, tho Juntrran in her bridal whito, sits soreno and sweet, whilo all tbo claciers gleam liko lakes in gardens of the gods

Lord Leigh is pacing up and down the breakfast-rontn, and on a side tablo lie tho let'era which he him just, opened.

Tho hour which he has waited for, married for. has come That pile of busi ness and lesal envthipoa repro-eiita the romovil of that, hideout" loid of debt and mortgage that was dragging him down and threatening to wreck hia ruvpectubility, and bring on with him that public cuntuinoly, tho one thing that ho dreads. Tho eetfloments rando at his marriage aro liow assured Tho share of Vio!ot/tf forcuno wlii.ch he had barf;ninerl for in ready money- half a million of pounds s-jcured by dower on the Leigh estates—has been paid him, and his debts aro fettled, nnd sixty thousand pounds are in tho hands of his Steward, to meet tho mproveir.entn on hi* estate and on ! ei<;h Towere ; and for the first time for several year.* Norman liai^h is a free mun, anl not in the hands of tho usurers, nor ob'ijjed to find hush money. Looking • nek, ho wonders a little that ho has been ablo to keep hia affairs ao quiet, and that Mr -iinslie accepted him bo readily as suitor to the hoiress. Great titles of ten cover fjroiit iniquities. To his own eurpruo, this man, who livo* only on excitement of a sharp order, relieved from tho excitement of impending ruin, U oven now panting afto^ '•tho holo of thy pit whence ho waa digged,' and the cup of Uirce which has heretofore made him " a beaet and no man ;' ho is roproducing in his turbid f-oul tho parable of " tho sow that was washed."

A door swings open, and through it comos Violet. Tho flush of wild roses ie on her chocks, and lijfht lies tromuloua In her dewy brown eye?. The deft Kute has arrayed har in a tucked mull dre^s. with round, full waist, and biuu n;is?li tiod in a groat b-i-v bohir.d, like a cliild. Fresh, simple, healthful, sweet, she entors, and faces the reetloesLeigh. " Have you seen the mountains, Norman '! 1 have been on the balcony watching them. Tho far-off raujres 'ire all pink, and gold, and purple. The (jlaciera are like silver lakes."

" I'm dead ?ick of mountains. I'm sick of everything." " You have been fitting up too lato. You make yourself nervous smoking so constantly and ddoklDg brandy and water," say* Violet, vereed by this time in the manners of hex lord, and contrasting them with tha early hours, the ono glass of wino afrer dinner,'find the single evening cigar, indulged in by the banker prince, her uncle.

Lord Leigh shrugged his shoulders, gathered tho* letters into his pocket, and drank a cup of tea strorg as lye. Violet noticed hia excitod eyes, his feverish manner.

"You will feel better for being out in the air," she tnid. " us walk or ride about here all day long. Let us keep quiet hour?, and have plain, regular meals, and be like the country people. I like that life best. We cannot tire of going about here. It'is just like Martin's picture of the Plains of Heaven.

"Twenty-four hours of this would kill me. I tnuiit make a start," said Lord Lei<>h, swallowing tea with brandy in it. Violet viewed the docootinn with disgust, and cried out: "Oh, N>rinan, must wo go bofore I.have ccci anything?" " You needn't go I'll bo buck in a week. I must givo myself a little dip in life without you. I don't think I wa3 made for a family man." " What ! leave me here all alone?" cried Violet, in dismay. " ?ou have four or tivo servants, and there are English people about. You can't expect me always to be tied to you, Violet. She recalled that they had been married less than a month. " And Keith is coming—he'll go about with you." Violet's lipa quivered aa she considered that Keith's coming would be as much pain aB joy, and more peril than comfort. " Where are you going ?" she asked tremulously. " To Hoinburg." Violet had no idea what might lie wrapped up in the word Homburg. She mentally reviewed her geography, and told herself that Homburg was not so very far off. After all what diffarence did it make ? She really had no loving shelter in him, and she must learn to protect, herself, to be strong in herself, as she had. no one to lean

on. Thus it happened that within a month from her ill-omened wedding-day Violet was loft alono in the little town of Berne. She spent two days reading novels on the balcony, or walking about the small Swiss city in guardianship of Kate, her maid, amusing herself in the unexciting methods of feeding Berno's tutelar b ara, and giving coin to eturdy Swiss children. * The third day Violet, with a book, and Kate, with a roll of fancy work, set off to •spend the morning in a little wooded plateau, where through the openings in the trees the Bernese overland lay revealed in all ite serene splendour*. In the lush grass of (his plateau lay couching, like a young lion, a youthful Saxon, large of limb, and frank of heart, lying with his yellow curled head on his bent arm, his eyea on the distance, his thougnts with the woman he had loved and lost. Across the line of this dreamer's vision moved, cutting off with her email, piquant figure a view of the Fin=toraarhorn. a slender creature, with brown hair ruffling about her sweet, shining eyes—a dainty vision which thia young man thought should go like the gods, marching on rosy clouds, with little loves and holy graces, rejoiced to be bearers of her train. But, in her short T nuns' veiling walkingdress, and unsupported by any being more othereal or reliable than her maid Kate, Kenneth Keith's goddess moves on, and he perforce rises up to do her homage, which act he performs coldly enough, having his manners, if not hia heart, well in hand. Kate throws upon the grass her lady s phawl, and retins to a convenient distance to embroider a handbag to be added to the endless number now in her mistre-ss possession. "I called at the hotel,' says Kenneth, "and they said Lord Leigh had gone away. I did not expect to see you here." "He did not tike me ;he said he would come back in a fow days ; and it is too stupid to ntay in my rooms at the hotel all the time, even with the mountains to look at Do you think it 13 wrong for me to go out with only Kate ? I have no one here to ask. Will you tell me what is proper ? "Oh. certainly it ib proper ; only ltwould be better if you had your aunt or some lady friend with you." •• Violet's little head, with its plenitude ot dusky locks, sink low; ehe is easily

enubbed in regard to the proprieties of life, which Mrs Ainslio has made a bugbear to her. "I ustd to think a governess a hateful nuisance," she says, ingenuously; "but I wish I had one now ; it is really comfortable to have jome ono who knows always what is to be done. I think it is nicer to go right than to have one's way." ''Your way is euro to be right," say Kenneth ; and he added with rising wrath : " A young bride should not be reduced to need either governess or companion ; her husband should be her companion and guide." Violet lif's up two sudden, tearful eyes, like groat dark jewels eton Hashing through running water. " 1 shall novor hnvo that," she says, pitoously. Do you think I had better get a companion—some 'lady ia reduoed cir stances,' as the advertisements read?" " You will need none when you get to Leigh Towers. You will[be at home then, you going •>. ' "I do not know. Not till Norman cotnes buck. Tell me what to see here. Where can I go with Kate ?" " Leigh aeked me to look after you, and I will," said Keith, with sudden resolution, " that ia if you will allow me. Have you seen Heller's carving manufactory ? Will you walk with mo to see tho tunret on the Euge, and Hatterforme ? When Leigh comes, he can make .excursions with you What book have you ?" He thinks reading will be far more snfe than looking into tho humid oyoe, and watching tho pathetic mouth, and then, how easy for them to stray into dangerous topics. She held out tho little volume—square, in white and gold. Alas, it was " Locksley Bull I" Kenneth Keith had not road it for years, not since the first days when ho thought Violet had foreakon him. Ho had forgotten how cruelly tho poem would paint their fate. Could hia tono fuil to ring home as he read : Oh, my cousin, shallow-hearted ! Oh, my Amy, mine no more! Ho did not boo how Violet's bosom was, us Amy's, "ehakon with a sudden storm of sighs." Rut when he read— " Ib it well to wish theo luippv? havlngnfoto d.c'ino On a rungo of lowor feeliiiK, and a narrower heart thnu mine ?" he' shut tho " book —ho could go no farther. He sprang up. "Let us not read. I will make you a laisy clmin, aa if we wore children, and I will f-ing you a song that boatmen Bing along the Nile; the harsh Egyptian will bo bettor than this Tennyaonian melody.1' Meanwhilo a woman who was sketching, seated some distance from them beneath a beech treo, kept Iroking at them from under her wido hat, and a blaze of triumph dairncrl on tho proud, handsome face of Holen Hope as she said to herself:; "Now I boo, and am sure of my revengo !" (To be Continued on Wednesday.)