ALONE.

Auckland Star, Volume XX, Issue 149, 25 June 1889, Page 6

ALONE.

BY MARION HARLAND,

Aiitho, of •Nemesis,' 'Hidden Path,' < Moss Sido,' 'Miriam.' *Enapty Heart,' ■Helen Oavduer/ 'Husbands and Homes,' . *Ruhy's Husband,' ' Phemi^'B Temptation,' Etc.

CHAPTER XXIV.

(Continued.)

His birbhday was near ab hand, and he determined bo invibe bis friends bo rejoice wibh him at his partial restoration to health. It was to be an unostentatious affair — a dinner, and no ladies bub bhose belonging to the family. Mr Read was as impatient as a child ab ibs first teaparty. •They are late, Helen, they are not coming!' he said every few minutes while they were awaiting tho guests, He was working himself into, a passion, when the welcome ring appeased him. 'Mr Copeland !' called the stentorian lungs of the footman ; and Mrs Read was as white as if the hand of Death had smitben her. 'How are you all?' said Richard, in bis joyous, rabtling style. ' Miss Ross, lam delighted to meet you—Miss Josephine, I will nob disparage your hlooming cheeks by asking afber your healbh, — and you, MiRead, have been practising upon our fears by stories of illness—hasn'bhe,Helen?— you are ill,' he said, brought bo a full 3bop by her pallor. ' 111 ! you are well—are you nob ? said Mr Raad, inalarm. ' ' Well! yea ! what notions you have, Richard!' and bhe colour . flowed back. • When did you come in ?—down, I meant, and how are they at hoipa ?' 1 " Home " is too byidish for a demure matron ; but they are.well, and sent love. I arrived this morning, and should have been in before, but for business.' ' Don'ij leave bhe room, Helen. Somebody will come while you are oub. Send John for whab yoii want,' said Mr Read. (She was slipping oub threuglithe back parlour.) - . . 'I will he gone but a second, she answered ; and Mr Read, was still telling Richard ho\y opportune his visit was when she refcurped. She was the. collected, urbane hpsbessi only an eager glance at eaoh arrival betrayed nervousness or expectation. Mr Read watched bhe door also; and h. displeasure ab bhe tardipess of his favourite was audibly venbed. ' Helen ! why don't Mr Ashlin come ?' he said, in Ida's hearing. Ears less acuta Would nob have distinguished his wife's reply. % Hush 1 these people are jealous of your preference already. He will he here before long.' Ida had mislaid her handkerchief, or nob broughb ib into bhe room ; and Richard offered bo favour her retreat by a journey into the ne?t room, to look at some greenhouse plants. Leaving him bending oyer them, she ran upstairs, found the missing article, and was hurrying clown, when a ring arrested her upon the lower landing. Thinking to let the Visitor enter before her, she stepped back out of sight. ' Mr Ashlin, I beg your pardon, sir,' said John, 'my mistress told me to give you this before you went into the drawing-room, sir.' Mr Ashlin paused—.he judged to re^d a note.

' «All right!' said he. ' Tell your mistress I regret exceedingly that I am called into the country, on account of a friend's dianger, and canftofc'co'niply with my engagement to Mr.Read, th.is evening. Deliver the message as I have given ib. This is for yourself, John. Good day.' ' Thank you, sir. Good afternoon.' 'Ida's limbs shook beneath her. She had not time to, unravel the mystery—for mysJ tery she kpew ib to be. Mrs Read's fright at her brother's entrance, her incoherence and exit, the strangely-wooded message, the bribe to the servant swam in chaotic medley through her mind, She was sick wJ,th terror, until warned to conceal her emotions by Richard saying that 'Helen's queer symptoms had become epidemic' Partaker of the alarms of guilt, by he_ knowledge o| the sin, averse as. she was to participation in its concealment, she was possessed with the idea that tp her was con_^in\tt^d the work of blinding Richard. While her ears were alert to every sentence uttered arp.nd her, and she was quaking at the least approach to a mention of the aibser^te?i she aimed to monopolise Mr Copeland's sense and thoughts. Sheanticipated their quitting th.c table as a blessed change, then, a cold agony came over her ab the yeiftembranee that the gentlemen would remain- Discovery in this case was inevitable. His wife's caution would nobrestiain Mr Read from pledging Mr Ashlin's health. She thought pf bantering Richard into •withdrawing thp ladies ; —ib would be too bold—top forward. He would obey, but his irespept for her would be diminished ; —as a final alternative, she must venture it—bub was there no, other ? '•Our patient does us credit, Miss Ida.1 Hipr next neighbour was Doctor Ballard. 'Does, you credit, Doctor. I am only your custodian—a daring one, however, for I have a petition to submit. Will it nob be imprudent for Mr Read to remain long at table, after the cloth is removed? His system ia still inflammatory.' Her conscience reproved her for the deception, although she spoke the truth, but the case was desperate. The .Doctor's professional cap was on instantly. ' Unquestionably, my child ! unquestionably ! well thought of, Miss Ida ! We must guard against a relapse. How shall we get him into the parlour _ Ida consulted Richard, who referred the case-to Charley and returned her the reply that if the ladies would delay their departure a little longer that was customary, to startle those who loved to tarry at the wine, be would concert wish most of the company tp rise, at the same time. Charley was at the helm, and Ida could safely have slept upon her watch. Mr Read demurred at an infringement upon banquetting laws, but the secedersgallantly insisted upon attending their fair leaders ; and the most disaffected had nob courage to stand their ground. It was a weary, weary evening to Ida ; she looked aud felt wretchedly. ill, after, the guests, dispersed, Richard looked in again, after saying 'good-night.' *1 hayq purchased a, l?ug«y to : day,' said be to Ida; 'and my pet hprsp. is in town. Shall I have the pleasure of driving you out in the morning ?'

Shaaasented. ' At what hour?'he asked'l wonder what has happened, thab Ashlin stayed away !' said Mr Read. Richavd started violently. ' Ashlin ! he ' echoed with a rierylpoka^his.sjster, 'Ashlin —Ashlin/ he repeated, sensible, pf. his imprudenp*!. 'I hay^ heard the, name—who whe. "" . , , ♦.An old friend of your sister's,' replied Josgphin . , „ ... .. Richard's faco wa .profoundly meditative. '■A small man—is he not? red-haired, stoops in the shoulders, and wears, spectacles?' ' ' . .. ~ . . Mr Read spoke up indignantly. 'A magnificent fellow ! gentlemanly, intelligent, and one of the best hearts in tire •irorld! 1 ~ 41 ~ .. «I do nob know him then! said Richard, 1 emphatically. 'Now that _ think'of it, the red head's name may have beenA#bton, Say eleven o'clock -to Ida -«it ba.plieasantly warm then, «

•It will suit me,' she rejoined, trembling before his. gaze.

He \va. punctual to the hour, Mr Read hobbled to the doar ta admire his 'turnout.' Tq him, Riohard was lively and friendly as usual, but he refused his sister's invitation to cou.ie.in, and his bow, as his horse sprang off at bhe loosened rein, was bo him." They left bho oiby by bhe shortest route. Beyond the houses, Richard slackened their headlong speed. ' Miss Ross !' he eaid, abruptly facing her, ' I have classed you among the limited number of your sex who are uprighb and truthful. Within twelve, hours past I have .loubted yQu.. You are under Up personal obligations to answer my questions ; —but as a brother .-for bhe honour of my family, I demand of you all bhafc you know of bhis Ashlin,'

' Which is very little. 1 never saw him until Mr Cranloigh's marriage, vyhenbewas introduced to me at Mrs Morris'?.' ' By whom ? by Holen ?' 'By Mrs Morris herself. He made a party call, and has continued to visit the house.'

'Artful as evex !' be said through bis shut beebh. ' Does Mrs Read see him?' ' Yes ; and Mr Read.1 ' The old blinkard ! Does Helen receive him as your friend, or as hers T ' As the friend of bhe family.' 'Tush! I mighb command your diplomacy, Mis? Ross, if I were nob so thoroughly in earnest. Ib is clear you will nab advance a step without knowing why you are questioned. Having more confidence in you than yov\ have in me, I will set you an example of cando-ir. Ash!in and my sister wej-e betrothed when he was at college. We were "chum 3." He is ardent —generous in some of bis impulses, but as I perceived, even with my boyish irregular notions, lax in principle. Helen was nqb ignorant of my opinion, and with a woman's faibh and perseverance seb herself to break it down. You do nob know her as she was then-high-spirited, proud and passionate, but tractable as a child to the voice of affection. Her will was more ungovernable than mine, and she reconciled me to her choice. He had just competed his course ab the University, when bhe deabh of an uncle put him in possession of a valuable estate in Cuba. The marriage, which waa to have takep place immediately, was postponed for twelve months. Meanbinie, he was to visit the property, and prepare for a permanent residence in the West. Indies. The year clapaed—he did not return—and suddenly his letters were suspended. Helen was insanply trustful; he might be ill or deaddying, or in the grave, he was true ! Her romantic, indepe .dentdisposttion led herto the. formation of a mad project—to search for him in person, since she. could learn nothing in any other way. I could nob dissuade her ;-^-slie made bub one concession, that 1 might accompany her. The object and direction of our expedition, was known only to ourselves. We were ready—a day before that fixed for starting, a letter came ! He was enamoured o,f an Italian cantatrice: "designed marrying ber, if Helen would liberate him ;— if not, he would redeem his early pledge to her." She was ill for weeks : and upon what I believed her death-bed, she extorted from me a vow nob bo. revenge her. She "should have foreseen how ib would end," she said, "blind, confiding dupe bhab she was !" She arose a hardened, I think, sometimes, a heartless woman of bhe world;—with her trust in him had perished her faith in God and man; an unfeminine panting for wealth and distinction filling its place. Chance threw this gold-fish, Read, in her net, and she clutched him. I had sorrowed for and commiserated her until then ; but so sordid, so 1. ickedly weak was this act, that I reproached ber angrily. I said it sprang from wounded vanity, and a mean desire to glibber, a hollow-hearted, tinselled doll in bhe view of bhose who .would gibe while pretending bo applaud ; bhab her conduct was as degrading to her as mortifying, to us, —and she bore my vituperations without attempt' ing to defend herself. "Richard !" she said, when I had exhausted my indignation, " better reason with a tornado than a slighted woman !" ' You regard me as a chattering coxcomb. Miss Ida; but I solemnly-declare that I could have gone to the block more resignedly than I saw my beautiful, sister sold to her hoary bridegroom. These were circumstances with which I could not cope — bub the diabolical schemes of this assassin of her peace shall not mature ! This is bhe sad tale—is it quite new to you ?'

•In its details;' and sherolated Celestia's version.

•Which furnished you with a key—you have a clear head and a woman's wit—have you found no locks that it fitted ?' No reply. ' Did you divine the cause of Helen's embarrassment at my appearance yesterday V ' Not at the time.' • But afterwards. Ho was invited—did she warn him of my being there ? If so, do not say. it. I can bear your silence better than the truth.'

'I can neither deny nor assert, Mr Copeland. I have imagined many dreadful things, which may have no real existence. You may judge for yourself.' His brow was lighter when he had heard her unvarnished relation..

' I thank you !' said he, heartily. 'We may cicatrise this wound yet. I will see Helen, to-night; she expects a reproof, and if she is not what she appears,— refined steel —I will make her feel. I dare not meet Ashlin—but I will write —and if he crosses my path again—.' He resumed in a milder tone, ' I would crave one more proof of your good-will, but that I fear a refusal.' •Ask it.' 'If he renews his visits, will you inform me?'

' No, sir !' said Ida, positively. ' The service savours too much of espionage.' 'I was afraid you would see it in that !it_it. Miss Read,' he continued scornfully, ' would require no persuasion to play the spy. I was near committing myself last night. His. name was a galvanic shock.'

' I cannot but hope,' said Ida, • that our fears have magnified shadows into spectres. We are so prone to shape events after the fashion of our inclinations or forebodings. Do not consider it an impertinent liberty, Mr Copeland, if I recommend you to be very gentle in your reprehension of your sister. Callous, self-dependent in semblance, think what her sufferings are, empaled by memory and conscience. Oh !if we had more charity for the tempted !'

•Temptation, sin, suffering ! how naturally the words succeed each other !' mused Richard. --.■.>.. .

I. 'And they are an epitome of all human woe,' said Ida. 'Itis a doctrine of mino that a, small, proportion, of the great aggregate of crime is committed from actual };ove of sin.'

She was gratified at his demean«our toIwards his sister upon their return. He .dined with them, and was markedly attentive to her, combining so much- brotherly jkindness with a certain deference to her (wishes and' sentiments that she struggled with the softness which menaced her proud •composure. As they quitted the table, he passed his arm around' her waist, and there Were tears in the eyes upraised to his. No n;ore auspicious time could occur for the contemplated conversation ; and Ida en,biced Mr Read into his reading-room, by the lure of an uncut periodical; The words fell from hor mouth mechanically — her mind was upon the momenbpus interview. In the. character of life delineated by I Richard, she traced, with a thrill, a simil-' arity to her own ; the impetuous temper--, unmanageable, save when the breath </{ love sighed over the heart; the blaf,t _d hope ; the unworthiness of the object 0 f adoration —ah ! this bitterest ingredient in the cup of despair was spared hey . but. the prostration ot soul and body ; '^. en tho

heaven-threatening billows of blasphemous misanthropy and self-abandonment —the parallel was just here—to diverge how widely in the result of the ordeal! one, wilfully completing the ruin of her happiness by perjury—cauterising her heart with corrodents, that eat away its fevered life; the other, dragging herself, wounded and weary, to. the feet of the Good Physician, to be healed, end fed, aod sustained by His loving mercy ; and the language of Ida's thanksgiving was, ' Lord ! Thou hast made me to differ!'

( To be Continued. J