A Heart's Bitterness

Auckland Star, Volume XVIII, Issue 69, 23 March 1887, Page 4

A Heart's Bitterness

By BERTHA M. CLAY,

Author of "For Another's Sin," "A Fai:

Mystery," &c,

CHAPTER LXVIL

" FIEST IN MY 11EAKT FOR EVER."

Violet Leigh bad been bending in prayerful tondornos3 over the cradle of her child. As eho studied, tho lovely features of tho innocont Blooper, sho found herself wondering if his father had in his infancy been like Rupert, and if his mother had ever bent over him with such impassioned love, contieing all her affection, all her comfort, all her hope, in that ono little child. She had heard but little about her husband's mother, but that little did not suggest a kind, loving parent, or a host of prayors, to stand like angels between her child and barm.

Tho thought of this woke in her gentle breast profound pity lor Norman Leigh. He had lacked the sweetest ministrations, the wisest guidance, tho loveliest example. Bo bad inherited fiercu propensities to evil. Then, too, in early manhood, he had made a fatal mistake in resigning tho love of Edna. Violet believed that hor friend could make any man good and happy. What tho herself had failed to do, Edna could have done. In hor lovely self-abnega-tion and self-distrust, ehe believed Leigh would havo been won to a nobler lifo if a stronger, wiser, more attractive woman than herself had been his wife. She teld herself, humbly, that her own empire over the heart of Keith was a matter of Keith's generosity toward one who was sad and lonely. Tbosa thoughts filled hoc with a depth of kind compaeaion toward her husband.

Her thoughts then turned to her own childhood, to her infancy, to tho mother whom she could not remember.

She put her hand to a slender chain on her neck, that usually held a turquoise set locket with her mother's miniature It wad gone, and she remembered that when Rupert had been brought to her for a few minutes' good-night play, in the drawing-room, she had amuebd him with it. Kate had left her ; Jenny was already asleep; she went down to the drawingroom to find the locket.

The library door was open, and Leigh waa fitting by the table, some papers before him, his head on his hand. She was struck by his dejected attitude and worn fans as tha stole noiselessly by. The kindly thoughts that had filled her breast rose paramount, and when she had secured the triaket which she had lost, the stopped in the open door, and said, gently : " Norman, why do you eit up late ? Are you ill?" He looked up. Violet was in a long, eoft wrapper of white flannel, a puff of a.van'B-down coiled her neck, her hair fell in a shadowy t-ilken cloud over her shoulders, her soft brown eye? were earnest, and full of kindly sympathy, and on her face was an ea.ier, child-like look of miDgled timidity and kindness. Ho held his hand toward her.

" Why are you v>p so late ?'' "I have been watching by Rupert, and thinking of him, and olyou." " I am a poor theme for your thoughts," said Leigh, aa she etood near his chair.

"You look troub!ei—sick. I should like t) help yon, Norman." "Thanks—you are kind. I don't know S3 anything could help mo, but killing me. This cussed mania for play will ruin me and tho boy yat." " Ob, Norman, cannot you refrain for his sake?"

"I thought I could, but I do not." " Are you — ara you needing money, Norman ?'

"I'm short cf fundu, certainly. There aro no rents due, and I have been deucdly unlucky."

Violet had a torriblo dread of her husband's deadly vice. She shrank from feuding it, by supplying hundreds for thegaming table. But, then, if he were distressed for money, and she had it at hand

She eaid, timidly: " But, Norman, all I have 13 yours. Uncle Henry haa just cent me this quarter's income, and I have nearly oil of laat quarter. I eeam to have no ÜBO for money. I canuot get rid of it. I ought to have so much by.mo. Fraj take it. Itis hundreds of pounds ; and really, is it not dangerous for me to have it by mo ? It will keep me awake nights. I'lia.sa take care of it for me."

" Waste it fo.- you, you mean," eaid Leigh bitterly. "I am suro you will not do that. You will need it for improvements and travelling hospitality. But take it, use it as you will. Only, do not be sad and ill." She looked bo benign, so innocent, so unselfish, that Leigh loathed himself that he was so unworthy of her. He cried out:

" Violet, you are a perfect littlo

saint."

" Oh, no; but Norman, if you could like me a little co that as Rupert grows up, he shall see no enmity or division between us, and if you could only be happy in building up your estates, nod your political influence, so that when Rupert comes of age he shall have all that his birth and title seem to promiee him, ob, Norman, I should be so content." "It eeems as if I really must make a man of myself for your sake, and the obild's," aaid Leigh, slowly. "Wuit here a minute," eaid Violet, eagerly. She ran up the broad stairs, and returned carrying a casket of steel and brass. With eager little fingers she unlocked it, and poured over the papers on the table, a heap of gold sovereigns, and criap grey bank-notes. "There, Norman! You know how to spend it, but Ido not. You lay it out for me." " Keep it yourself, child. Ido not want your money." But Violet clasped her hands behind her, and shook her pretty head. "No, indeed! It worries me; I'm go glad to be rid of it ! Why, some night some robber might come, if I kept all that. Now, Norman, don't worry any more. Good-night !" He caught her hand and kissed the Blender fingers. " Would I were worthier of you, Violet."

Ho expected that Helen Hope would conclude to make terms with him, and cea?e her pursuit on payment of a heavy sum. Such a sum was now before him, but—it came from Violet, md the hot blood surged over his worn temples at the thought. As for Violet, she slept content after a good action, and as soon she had breakfasted next day, filled a little basket with grapes and flowers, and hastened to Rose Lodge, "I know you will think me intrusive, Edna," she said, after she had greeted her friend, and thoy were alone in the little rose curtained parlour. "But I cannot be silent, dear, when I know you are sad. There is such a sorrow in your sweet eye?, and you are paler and thinner. I know you are grieving. Tell me, is this a fatal quarrel with Lord Alwold I" "There is no quarrel; enly—do not ask me, Violet—he found he was mistaken— and all is ended between üb."

" I cannot conceive of any person giving you up." "Lord Alwold foimd mo—lees than he believed me—and ho ga\ ~me up. I cannot blame him ; he is v/orthy of the best." " He is unworthy of anyti.ing, if he could be faUo to you," cried Violet, hotly. "If he is ao fickle, forget him." "He is not fickle. Hueh ! I cannot let you speak against him He is the noblest, purest of men, It ia because his ideal of womanhood, of true love, ib co high that I cannot reach it."

"Do net excuse him," said Violet; "he ia inexcusable if he won your love and forsook you!" "My darliog, I cannot explain ; but I cannot hear him blamed ; he may have been a little hasty; but—there, I can fay no more—only do not torture me by recalling him, by condemning him ; for every word against him cuts my heart. Violet, I loved him, I do love him, and that love I shall cberith in my heart for ever. I can live for him, hope and pray for his good, though wo are for ever parted. From the first moment of our acquaintance I never doubted that he had all my heart; I only doubted if I could fill his."

" And though forsaken by him, you will live for him i"

" I will forget him as far as I ought, and as I get strength to forget; but I shall turn to no other. Violet, you and your child shall now be deareßt ta my heart." " Oh, Edna," cried Violet, passionately. "If I had been so true and steadfast, I might; have been a happy woman !"

She flushed, ashamed that even in closest intimacy she had betrayed the haunting secret of her heart. In constaut care for her child, Bho flatterod herself often that Keith's image was finally torn from her heart; but then the light of some sudden experience would flash upon her, and Bhow him dearest still. This was agony to her gontle, conscientious soul; how could eho blume her hußband for anything when ehe knew that he was not first and sole in her affection ? But lying awoke that night, mournfully thinking of her friend, she remembered that she had told Leigh of Alwoli's year of probation ; eho recalled how he had been mad after Edna, and how dark and secret were his methods, and a terrible revelation flashed upon her. It was Norman, her husband, who had destroyed the happiness of Edna, and ehe herself it was who had given him opportunity to break Edna's heait.

CHAPTER L.WIII

"ONCE FOR ALL, REVENGE OK FAREWI'LL." Violet knew Lord Leigh well enough to realise that all upbraiding, all reproach or accusation would but harden him. If sho would bring him to repentance, to undoing evil, it muet be by gentle methods. If ho had, as sho believed, been tho means of angering Lord Alwold against Edna, doubtless by eomo garbled or perverted idea of their tormor intercourse, he must be persuaded to undo his work. Sho reflected that he now felt not unkindly toward herself, and ehe must make use of kindness to aid Edna. Such were her thoughts during the early, wakoful hours of tho rr.orning, and after breakfast, she said, looking into the garden : "Our roses are in their glory. Will you not eomo out and look at them with me!"

"If you like. But I think the konuela and tho stables aro Micro interesting," said Leigh. "Then I will go to them with you, if you wish," said Violet. " There aro the dearest little puppies in the world at the kennels. I took Rupert to see tlietn yesterday, and you should have seen him laugh. Then, too, I love horses, and I think ours are such beauties."

" On the whole," eaid Leigh, mollified by her complaisanco, " I -will walk iv the gardens with you. That dress of yours is more suited for the gravel walks than the kennels. The puppies would tear your furbelows. I am glud there are some things here that you like, Violet." "Some! Why, Norman, I think the Towers ij one ot the grandest, loveliest places in the world. And it is little Rupert's birthplace ; and hero he will live, if God spares him." "I hope so," said Leigh, uneasily. "You havo stood by mo well lately, Violet." "I shall always stand by you," ahe eaid, pulling a rod rose. "Will you promise me that?" cried Leigh. " Are yoa not my husband ?"

"Well, will that bind you, so that in trouble or disgrace, in loss, in all evil, you will stand by me, and battle for me, if I cannot for mysel i "

" I am not framed to battle," said Violet, wistfully. "I am rather like my nameflower—formed to hide in safe and shady places ; to ask shelter rather than to eivo it. But what evil is coming to us, Norman ?'

And she looked about the great, fragrant, sunny garden, with its thousand roses opening their dainty hearts to the warm eun.

"None that I know of. I cannot tell why, but I feel depressed, aa if omens were in the air, and every breeze a malign prophecy." " You are not well, I fear, Norman," Baid Violet, gently. " But, for all lam timid and holpleps, a? I eaid just now, I do believe if ovil hand were laid on my home or on my child, I would rouse to defend them, and 1 would be s'rong and wiee for their sakes.1'

And Violet remembered, with a cold shiver, the words of threatening spoken by Helen Hope a year before. " Come, come, let us trust there will never be need," said Leigh, more lightly. " But I believe, if need comes, I can rely on you, Violet." " And, on your part, if I want something very much, if I ask a great favour of you, will you grant it ?" " I will try. What do ynu want, child ?" "Nothing, just now," said Violet, feeling that the time had not yet come for saying what she would say of Edna. She must lead up to that by gentle degrees ; the theme was most delicate.

Alas ! while ehe waited to feel her way, the hour of Leigh's opportunity paesed bj for ever.

On that ranie sunny summer morning Helen Hope walked with Bart Kemp in the most secluded portion of the Leigh woods. Kemp had called for her at the cottage where ehe lodged, that of the deaf mute

widow, and together they walked in the forest, bracken rising almost to their knees, and the groat timid eyes of fawn and doe peering at them through the leafy coverts. Helen wore her favourite dresa of black, but a bunch of scarlet honeysuckle fastened the black lace at her throat, and a scarf of

crimson silk was negligently flung around her shapely shoulders, and knotted on her left side. She held- her head erect, and moved along the wood-path with the step of a quocn. Kemp was more infatuated each moment " Hold out your hand ; I have something to give you," ho said—haviDg proffered her praises that bad been heard in cold silence, love words that had been rebuffed by haughty looks, and caresses that bad been wholly rejected. "I don't think I want anything," said Helen, keeping her hands closely by her side. "You'll want this," said Kemp. "I rushed to London yesterday noon, and cams back by the early train to-day. I laid out a hundred ponnds for you, and I'd as leave lay out a thousand, or five thousand." He touched the spring of a box, and showed a bracelet, a ring, and a medslion richly set. "Why did you get that for me?" asked Helen. " Because I adore you ; because they act off your beauty. I never loved any other woman. Let me put them on you.' He drew her to a seat on the root of a tree, and put the jewels upon her. Helen did not care to take them—only from one Bource could gifts have a value—but the fierceness of the man's love dominated her, and aha beheld with a etrangu sympathy lova lavished on her such as she lavished on Leigh, and equally without return, "After all, Helen,}' said Kemp, on his kneea at her feet, " why do we stay here and pursue vengeance, when we might live for love ? If you speak the word, I can get, through Leigh, a part of a thousand pounds a year to add to my other income, and you shall have a thousand pounds for a Irousseai You shall not have a wish uDgratified." "You forget," said Helen, " that ro; whole life would be an ungratified wish if I were not revenged on Lord Leigh.'' "I don't mind pulling Leigh down," said Kemp, " only I hate to spend the time. The plan is a good one; it cannot fail." "It is a plan, then," said Helen, eagerly. " I don't think I ever could have quite come up to the point of trying it merely to revenga myself. I should only have frightened him a little. Do you realise that to gratify your wish for veDgeance I risk a life in the penal settlements ?" " But you will Bucceed, and then you earn—life with me," said Helen, bending toward him. "I'll risk it," he said, clasping her for one moment close in his arms. They wandered back along the way they had come. Helen leaned on Kemp's arm and strove by every wile to bind him to her interest. He described to her the life he had led in Australia, the city of Sydney, the farm where his numberless flocks grazed, the house there—which should be improved for her country residence; the house in the city, which she should have. He planned how she Ehould buy china, silver, furniture, to eend to both homes, " You have always been poor, I think," he said, "Listen to me," said Helen. "I have not only been poor, but I have not a known nor legal relative in the world, lam a namelesß, miserable foundling!" "That is nothing to me," said Kemp, hotly. " Your beauty and spirit are your power. You ate, I am sure, accomplished." "So they say, in all that makes a governess — music, drawing, languages, dancing," said Helen, with a eneer, 11 Those things are better than a name," cried Kemp. " I love you for yourself. But once more I urge you. Let us leave England, which has used you hardly. Let s go without flight or risk. We can be married by special license. Come ! forsake this old, bitter life, and try a life of better things." " Once and for all—revenge on Leigh, o farewell !" said Helen, with fury. "Let it be revenge, than," eaid Kemp, leaving her at the gate. Bnt, left alone, what floods of torture surged over Helen's soul! Leigh had once

spoken words of love, and they had boon music to her heart; they had "been only words of guile and pretence. Thia man, Bhe knew, spoke the language of a sincere, if a sudden paseion. Ho made hor honourable offers ; he would lavish on her Buch tenderness as she wasted on Leigh, and he would ask ir. return only the cold crumb of endurance. Yet for this man's pa?tion sho had only aversion to return. To her Leigh, with his titles, his ancient blood, his broad domains, hia air of high society, his associations with aristocratic life, had been as a god. He rirat had roused in her love, and her love had bean welded with ambition of a lofty place. She shrank from the memory of her wood walk with Kemp. She cher'.ihed the bitter, a^eet recollection of walks in Cornwall with Lord Loigh, leaning on his arm, and hearing hia voico, while into the silencos beat and ewellod the surging of the sea upon the rocky shoro.

CTo be Continual. )