A Wonderful Woman.

Auckland Star, Volume XXI, Issue 32, 8 February 1890, Page 1 (Supplement)

A Wonderful Woman.

By MAY AGNES FLEMING, . '•iGuy Earlescouit's Wife," "i Tafcrible Secret," " Lost for a Woman," •■ A Wad Marriage,' 1 eto-

BOOK 11.

CHAPTER VII.

•THERE IS MAN_ A SLIP, 1 ETO,

•yjX Cecil's wet feefc were Considerably wetter before s„e reached the picnic party on the sand. But there was no help for it, __d she laughed good-naturedly at all Sir Arthur's anxious predictions of future C01d.5. ~, :

. 'Mishaps and misadventures, rain storms and general demoralisation of one's raiment, _*c what ono inevitably expects at picnic. ,_fc,is in tha nature of things for lightning storms to come up in the midst of all plea* gure excursion?. I wunder if the oarriages safely protected tjiiose we left behind ; and above all, I uopo Ginevra and her party Were not oofc in that fairy bark of theirs : •when t_e squali arose. ? Eat they worp. Two hours had elapsed laetvveen Sir Arthur and Lady Cecil lcavirig ).(Jie pleasure party and their return, and during "those two hours dire misfortunes gad befallen. The whole picnic party w*re •assembled in one excited group as the two wandorers came up in their midst—the major, Lady Dangerfield, and the rector's daughter, dripping from head to foot like a triad of sea deities. Lady Cecil gave a gasp,' .--.,.-. •■* Sir Arthur ! Look here ! the boat has opset!' The boafe had. Lady Dangerfield excitedly 'and eloquently poured out the tale _ their hair-breadth escape as they aptoroa<lue'd. _hey were a mile and a half or there aboiitsfrbm tho shore when the thunder* storm had so swiftly arisen, and they had turned and put back at once. But before they had gone ten yards, cither owing to the major's management, or the sudden %_iking of the squall, away went the little _ab, keel uppermost, and down into the ruffled sea, with ringing shrieks of affright, went the two ladies and their military protector. The major could swim—so could _i„Hallan, the rector's daughter. Fling* fog one arm about Lady Dangerfield, the _ajorsbruck out for the shore, but an aWful pailichad S3ized the baronet's wife ; sudden , death atarcd her in the face, and all presence of mind deserted her. She struggled ia'-tfae major's clasp, clinging to him the \tiile and shrieking frantically. In vain He major implored and entreated. * For Jffeaven's sake, Ginevra, bo still and I will save you.' In vain the affrighted" Sarty Yon the shore, forgetful of rain now escending in floods, added their shouted prayers to hers. In vain ! Lady Danger'•fteld screamed and struggled, and -_c picnic party was in a fair way of winding up with a tragedy, when a boat skimming like a bird over the dancing waters, and skilfully handled by one man, shot towards them, swift and straight as an arrow.

' Hold on there,' a voice from the boat shouted. 'You'll go down to a dead certainty if you plunge about like that much longer.' The boat flew nearer. The man leaned over and picked up my lady. Major Frankland scrambled in after.

/'Rather a close finish !' their deliverer said, coolly. 'You were doing your best ttrmake the bottom. Are you all right there* sir ? Look after the lady, will you ? l-think. __._._oing.'to faint.' But Lady .Darigerfield did riot faint —too iriuch cold water, perhaps. She glanced abhor preserver, and noticed,. even, in that moment, that ho was one of the very handsomest men it had over beeri her good fortune to behold. She glanced ab herself. Good Heaven ! half the exquisite abundance of carls and braids sho, had set forth with that morning were miles out at sea, her complexion was a wretched ruin, and her lovely pink grenadine, in which she. had looked nob a day over twenty-five one short hour ago—that pink grenadine, all puffings, and frillings, and flounces—no, words are poor and weak to describe the state of thab

dres3,

.The boat, flying before the rising wind, made .tbo shore in: five minutes. Lady Dangerfield had not spoken ono word ; tears of shamo.and mortification were standing in Ker eyes. Why, ob, why had she ever come on this wretched trip, this miserable picnic, at all ? What business had Major Frankland to propose going out in a boat when he wasn't capable of handling a boab ? What a fright she must look - hablesss, hairless, comparatively complexionless, and her Might, gossamer summer skirts clinging about lier like wet leeches ? What must this remarkably good-looking and selfposaeased gentleman sittingyonder steering think of her? He was not thin king of herab all; ho was watching, with an amused face, SnssHallan calmly arid deliberately swimming ashore, and all the other people standing like martyrs in the rain. 'Now, then, madam!' He sprang.out and almost lifted her on tho sands. Very' sorry for your mishap, and if I might presume to offer a suggestion, would recommend an instant return home and a change of garments. Good-day, sir; your boat's, all right—floating ashore.' And then this cool gentleman, wifchoub waiting for thanks or further ado, pushed off, again, and skimmed away like a seagull., ""'■;,'

,-Such a plight as thia pleasure party sbood to when Sir Arthur and Lady Cecil reined them ! Wet through, all their fine leathers spoiled—every one of the ladies »as miserable a plight as the shipwrecked KMy themselves—every one drenched' to the skin. Lady Cecil's dark eyes, of supposed fun, wero lifted to the baforiet's; there was a grave smile even at the corners Wfltssedate mouth.,, It was wonderful how they understood each other, and'how much nearer they were than they Ud been that doming. . > Of bourse the picnic broke up in ;jjtost 'admired disorder,' and at once, i-to wet mermaids were packed damp and "Tipping into the carriages and whirled Scarswood as fast as the horses «Pold trot the distance. Lady Dangerfield newaiiing her fate, her narrow escape for fler life, and anon wondering who her preserver could be. " . He had the air of a military man,' she "•••d;'.'there was no mistaking it; and he bronzed and bearded, and somewhat f»? re jgri-iookirig. A gen tlemon, beyond a toadow pf a doubt, with a bow of a Lord Jjuesterfield or,a court chamberlain, and m whitest teeth I ever saw.' .ft'was evident Major* Frankland had a toal. "

-I wish I had asked his name, and in"ted him to C all,' my lady went on. ■ Com- .■■. n H9 : courtesy required it, bub really I was and frightened, and all the rest »thab I thought of nothing. Abominable w Jasper Franklarid to lot the boat upset. M never forgive him. What could that : {pnger have thought of me —such a j "Pmble fright as I must look.' : ~..% dear Ginevra, does it matter what :|» stranger thinks? We are all grateful '.-*him for coming to your rescue so opporte De *y, but as to his good opinion,-I.don't that is a matter of consequence *fway or the obher.' y ne doesn't want to look like a scareWMj Returned her ladyship, indignantly, <li 6" X$ oxe strangers ; and he was so dis."•Kuishe'd looking, and had the finest eyes, gnie. Perhaps he may be one of the from the Castleford barracks.'

'I-jhoughb we had had all the officers trom bhe GasMßford, ahd if any of thehi are emmeatly- distinguished - looking, I havo failed to perceive it.' ' .-. "We might have, had htm over for our theatricals to-merrow night, if I had only had presents* of mind enough to ask his name*. But how can one have presence of mind wnen one is drowning? And to lose toy nafc and my—my chignon, and every, thing! Queenie, how is it that you have escaped co Completely ? Where did Sir Arohur take you ?'■ % *To Bracked Hollow. We were caught tn the first of the storm, and had to run for it, Such a race ! Even Sir Arthur Tregenna, the most dignified of mankind, does not look dignifiod scampering away from a rain-storm.' Lady Cccil N laughed maliciously.- *It does people good to come down off their stilts once in a while, and put thoir high and—mightiness in their pocket. Really it has been a day 6f extraordinary adveh-. tures altogether.' * 'Yes,' said Lady Dangerfield crossly; 'and adventures are much nicer to read of than to take part in. I don't want adventures out of Maudie's selected novels.'

'A day of-adventures,' went on Lady Cociii laughing. ' You get upset in the midst of the ra_ingocean,lightning flashing, thunder crashing, rain falling —and what rhymes to falling, Ginevra, besides bawling ? And at tho last moment', tip rushes the gallant knight to the rescue, handsome, of course, gentlem-inly also,'military likewise, and with the bow cf. —a court, chamberlain, I t bird: you paid ? And for mc, my knight takes me into the Haunted Castle, and we heac and gee tho ghost of Bracken Hollow.'

• Oh', Sir Arthur ia your knight then, is he?' interrupted her ladyship sarcastically. * I thought it would come to that in the end. * Wo don't refuse thirty thousand a year, do we, Qucenie, darling, in spite of all our fine poetical, cynical talk of buying and selling. And what Bracken Hollow ? And what ghost

' What Bracken Hollow ! There's only one, and your husband says ib_ haunted. I suppose he ought to know*; he seems an authority on the subject of goblin-?, and ghosts. Of my own knowledge, I can say it is as dismal and dull a looking place as ever I laid eyes on—in the words of tho poot, "A lonesome lodge that stands so low in lonely glen." And a grim and sombre old woman—a sorb of Sussex: *' Noma of the Fitful Head " —ghostly face, and from an upper chamber we-heard a most ghostly cry. "Noma of the Fitful Head" accounted for it in some way about a raven and a country girl; but I don't think she expected me to believe it. And then lam sure—certain—l saw—'

But Lady Cecil paused. Why should she create an unpleasantness between the governess and Lady Dangerfield by telling of seeing her there? That there was no mistake she was convinced. Misi Herncastle's was not a face to be mistaken anywhere—not at all the sort of face wo mean when wo say 'it will pass in a crowd.' Most people in any crowd would havo turned to look twice at the very striking face of my lady's nursery governess.

Lady Cecil went up to her room at once, and. rang for her maid. In her damp dress she stood before the open window while she waited, and looking down she saw, immediately beneath her, in the rose garden, Miss Herncastle ! Miss Herncastle, calm, composed, pale, grave, lady-like, and looking, with her neatly arranged drees and serene manner, as though she had been there for hours, tho last person possible to be guilty of any escapade whatever. She looked up, smiled, bowed, turned slowly, a nd disappeared down a lime walk.

Lady Cecil stood transfixed. What did it mean ? Miss Herncastle looked a very clever person, but she was pot. clever enough, surely, to be in two places at once. That was Miss Herncastlo she had seen at Bracket! Hollow, less thab an hour ago,-and n"OW Sliss Serncastle was here. Slie.coalci not havo walkedftbe distance in tho timeshe could not havo ridden. And if ib wasn't Miss Herncastle, who then was it ehe had seen ? »

' Oh, nonsense!' Lady Cecil cried, tapping her slippered foob Impatiently. 'I know better. It was Miss Herncastle; Desiree,' to her maid. ~*_ see Miss Herncastlo down there. How long is it since she came in?' 'Came in,' Desiree repeated, opening her brown French eyes. 'Bub, mademoiselle, Mees Herncastlo wasn't out at all. She has been in the schoolroom with her young ladies.'

' Are you sure, Desiree?'

'Yes, mademoiselle,' Desiree was sure. That is—sho had been in tlie servants' hall herself, and not in the grounds, but of course Miss Herncastle —

'That-will do, Desiree. You pull my hair when you brush and talk together. Make haste!'

Desiree made haste, and iri fresh slippers and rosettes, fresh organdie and ribbons, Lady Cecil tripped away to the schoolroom. Pearl and Pansy were there, making houses of cards. Down went the cards, and the twins surrounded Aunt Cecil immediately.

'Did she see the lightning—oh, wasn't it awful? And the thunder—wasn't she frightened? They were. They went up to bhe nursery and crept into bed, and pulled the clothes over their faces—and never spoke till it was all over.'

'A very praiseworthy precaution, my pets. And where,- all this time, was Miss Herncastle ?'

'Oh, Miss Herncastle—poor Miss Hern-castle-had such a headache, and had to go to bed, and they were so glad. Not for the headache, of course—they were sorry for poor Miss Herncastle—but glad that they had had a holiday. And'that. other dress for Seraphina'—Seraphina was the biggest of the dolls—'when would Aunb Cecil make that?'

'To-morrow, if possible. And so Mies Herncastle had a bad headachy and had •to go to bed, Hum-m-m. When did she take it?' , '

' Oh, right after you all wenfc away. And she went up to her room with some vinegar, and pulled down' the blinds, and locked the door, and told Mrs Butler sho wOuld try to sleep it off. She gob up just before you came home—l saw her come out of her room and go down to the gardan.' The door opened and Miss Herncastle came in, her roses and myrtle in her hand. She bowed to Lady Cecil with a slight smile, - crossed the room with easy grace, and placed her bouquet in a Parian vase. 'I regreb tb-hear you have been suffering from a severe headache all day, Miss Herncastle,' Lady Cecil said, and the amberclear brown eyes fixed themselves full upon tho face of the governess. ' Pansy bells me you have been lying down all day. Bub for that I should positively think it was your face I saw at a window of the house in Bracken Hollow.'

The face of the governess turned from bhe flowers over which she was bending—-bhe deep grey eyes meb the searching brown ones sbeadilv.

' Thoughb you saw me, Lady Cecil! How very strange. And Bracken Hollow— where is Bracken Hollow ?'

' Bracken Hollow is within easy walking distance of Scarswood, Miss Herncastle : and you are right, it is very strange. I was positive ib was you.l saw.' * You were mistaken, of course,' the governess said, calmly ; ' ibßeems my fate to be mistaken. I had a headache, as Pansy says, and was obliged to go to my room. I am unfortunately subject to bad nervous headaches.' ',

Her face was perfectly calm —nob a tremor, not a flinch of eye or muscle. And again Lady Cecil was staggered. Surely this was truth or moat perfect acting. If Miss Herncastle had spent the day in her own room she could not have spent, it at Bracken Hollow. And if r ife were nob Miss - Hern castle, she hiad seen, who on eajrtb. then, was it ? :•

Thoroughly mystified,, the earl's daughter „escentted the stairs. In the vestibule sati the hall porter, the 'Castleford i Chronicle 'in his hand, his gaze medita- ' tivelyy fixed on the rainbow, spanning the | sky.*r r' ".-" • ' i > . - I 'Johnson, have you been here all day— lall day, mind?' \ Johnson turned from the rainbow and niadea'bow. ■':■■■■■' '.-■--'■- \

'Yes, my lady—which I meanter say my hexcepting of corse while I was at dinner— all the rest of the day, my lady.' . -

'And did anyone leave the house during our absence? — anypne—the children—the servants?'

'No, my lady,' Mr Johnson responded, rather surprised, ' not that I see, my lady. And it would be himpossible for hanny one to come, ivithout my seeing, my lady. The young ladies, they wasn't on the grounds all day, my lady, ' likewise none of the servants. Mrs Butler she were a-making hup long haccounts in her hown room, and Miss 'Erncastle she were a layjn' down with the 'eadache, my lady. And there wern't no callers, my lady.' Lady Cecil turned away with a dazed look. She had no wish to play the spy upon Miss Herncastle; If she had been to "Bracken Hollow, and had owned to it, Lady Cecil might have wondered a little;* but sho would have said nothing about it. She said nothing about it as it was, but she puzzled over it all the evening. The picnic party, rejuvenated.. dined at Scarswood. Sir Peter left the Sutumia Pavonia, and dined with his guests -my lady's rather, and myijlady herself in fresh raven ringlets, fresh . bloom, and fresh robe of goldcoloured tissue and white roses, looked as pretty and as animated as though ten pounds'sterling worth of tresses had not drifted out. to sea, and a lovely new toilet had been utterly ruined.

* I wish I had thought of asking him his name,' Lady Dangerfield remarked, over and over again, returning to the Unknown. ' A gentlehian, 1 am positive—there is no mistaking the airs of society ; and an officer; I should know a trooper in tho pulpit or in his coffin, there is no mistaking their swing. And he had tho most expressive eyes I think I ever saw.' * Your close observation does him much honour,' said Major Frankland with suppressed jealousy. 'He is, in all probability, somo wandering tourist, or artist unknown to fame and ? Trafalgar Square. _ It would be cruel, I suppose, to hint at his being a commercial traveller, down from the metro polls with his samples.' 'Gad ! he looked like some one I've met before,' muttered tho earl, glancing uneasily at his daughter. 'He waa in London the night of the opera,and it is just possible he may have followed us down here. Only that it would not be like him — proud as Lucifer he used to be ; and then I should think, too, he had got over the old madness. Did you see this unknown knight-errant, Queenio ?' 'I ? No, papa ; it was all over before wo came up. The curtain had fallen on the grand sensational tableau, the hero of tlie piece had fled ; Sir Arthur and I wero only in time for the farce.'

The earl stroked his iron-grey moustache, reassured. .

'If it be O'Donnell, and 'pon my life I think it is, 1 only hope Sir Arthur may speak before he appears again on the scene. Nob that she cares for him, of course, or that his appearance will make any difference in the result. It was only a girl's, not a child's fancy—and it is six years ago. What woman ever remembered an absent lover six years — a husband for thab matter? They say Penelope did; but we have only their word for ic. I dare say while Ulysses was flirting on that island with Queen Calypso and Miss Eucharis, she was flirting at home, and looking out for his successor. The only unpleasant thing about it will be, if they discover the littio counberplob I indulged in g.b that time. . It's odd Sic Arthur, dor\'t propose. He is greatly taken with her, that is evident, and though she doesn't encourage him, she is friendly enough.' Sir Arthur was taken with her. His eyes followed that fairy, graceful figure everywhere ; he stood by the piano while she sang, and she sang very sweetly, his oyes on the perfect face, his ear drinking iv the filver sounds. He was at his eaßo with her ; he talked to her as he bad never talked to any woman in hi 3 life; she was fair and good, lovely arid gentle. Why should he not make her his wife ? If that exquisite dower-face of hers had wrought dire havoc ere now with the tooeuspectible hearts, was she to be blamed ? She might nob be quite his ideal, perhaps — but which of us ever meets or marries our ideal ?—and he liked her very well— very well, and admired her greatly. Why nob.speak, then, and ask her to be his

wife ?

He revolved this question in bed that night unbiLhe fell asleep. " Of love, such-as he had heard and read of—bbab intermittent fever of cold fits and hot fits, of fear, of hope, of jealousy, of delight—he knew nothing. That mad fever into which common-sense never enters isn't a dignified passion ; a man on his knees to a woman, calling upon all the gods to witness how he worshipped her, is not an elevating or majestic sight. He was not a lover of the usual hot-headed, hare-brained sort, __ all wearing the same bright armour, all singing the same sweet song. But he esteemed, and admired, and liked Lady Cecil. ' She was his equal in everything save fortune, and thab he neither thought of nor cared for, and the very next day thab ever shone he would ask her to be his wife. For Sir Arthur Tregenna to resolve was to do. He was none of your vacillating lovers, who' don't know their own minds, and who are atraid to speak when they do. Without being in the least a coxcomb, he felt prebby sure of his answer. Her father wished it, she did nob seem at least to dislike him, and as husband and wife they would, learn to love each other, no doubt, very dearly. His eyes followed her bhab day as they had never followed her before—with a new interest;, a pew:tenderness. And Lady Dangerfield'a sharp black eyes saw it as they saw everything. • Thine hour has come, oh, Queenie,'she laughed maliciously. The grand mogul has mado up his mind to fling his handkerchief at his slave's feet. Look your loveliest tonight, La Beine Blanche, for the great Cornish baronet is going to lay his title and fortune at your feet.'

The colour flashed hotly for a moment over the exquisite drooping face—a flush of pain, of almost dread. Her woman's instincb told her also, as welkas Ginevra, that Ginevra was right. He was going to ask her to be his wife, and she—what should she say ? Whab could ehe say but yes ? It was her destiny as fixed as the stars. A sort of panic seized her. She did not love him, not one whib, and Lady Cecil CUVe at two-and-twenty, old enough to know better certainly, and admirably trained by a thorough woman of the world-ra woman of the world herself-**-oub three seasons—believed in love !

I am pained to tell, but the truth stands —she believed in love. She read De Masset, and Meredith and Tennyson—she even read Byron someitimes. She liked him—as she might a grave, wise, very much elder brother, but love him—no—no —no !

And Lady Cecil knew what love meant. Once, oh, how long ago it seemed ! for seven golden weeks the sun had shone, and bhe roses flamed in the light. Earth had been Eden, and the Someone that we all see a day or bwo in our lifetime had appeared before her, and then—the seven weeks ended, and life's dead level flowed back. That dream of sweet sixteen was ended, and well nigh forgotten, it might be ; but she didn't care -/.for- Sir Arthur Tregenna, arid he was going to ask her, and there waa notbingto say bnfc ' Yes.' She avoided him all tfeat day, as she had

never avoided him before in all he*.* life. If her chains werje to be 'clasped, at-least she would avert the fetters as;long as she could. She shut herself up in her .room,; book a book/ and forced herself to read. She would not think, plk would nob come down. lb had to bt ; >ut ab least she would have a respite in ile of them all. The lovely, rosy July" iy wore on, and dinner time came. She had to go down, then, As Owen Meredith says :

•We may live without bocks—what is know-* ledge but grieving? v . - -i. ■ We may live without hope—what is hope but

deceiving? "' ; Wo may live without love—what is passion but

pining'?/ c ■ But where is the man Lis at can live without dining?

Her respite was over. She most'face her doom. She went down in white silk and pearls. .There \yia to be an evening party —theatricals, charades, large company were coining. She was as white as her,dress, but perfectly calm. They were ever a brave, race, the Clives, going to the scaffold or to the altar without wincing once. '« .; Sir Arthur took her to dinner—gentlemen never know when they are riot wanted.; He was very silent during thab meal, hub then silence was his/orte. Lady Cecil, usually the brightest of s the bright, was under a cloud too. She cast furtive, "sidelong glances ab her companion. Oh, her doom was sealed—that compressed mouth, that stern face, those grave, inexorable eyes told the story. Do her best;, she could nob shirk fatality long. r ,i She made her escape after dinner, unnoticed, as she fondly hoped, amid the gay throng. A bright little boudoir, all rose silk and ormolu, and cabinet pictures, opened off one of the drawing-rooms, double doors and a velvet curtain..shutting it in. Thither this stricken deer fiecL / The double doors slid back, the rose velvet curtain fell, and she was alone, amid the pictures and the brica-brac, with the crystal moonrays. She sank down in a dormouse in the bay window, drew a great breath of relief, and. looked out. , How peaceful it was, how sweet, how hushed, how. lonely. Oh, why couldn't life-be cast in; some blissful Area? dian valley, where existence might be one long succession of ruby sunsets and silver moonrises, where nightingales sing the world to steep,, where young ladies need never get married ab all if they like, and thirty thousand a year is not a necessity of life? She clasped her hands, and looked up almost passionately ab that brighb opaltinted jtar-set sky. ' OhT she said, ' I wish, I wish, I wish, I need not marry Sir Arthur Tregenna.' * Lady Cecil, I beg your pardon for this intrusion, but they have sent me here to find you.' Her clasped hands fell—her hour had come. Sir Arthur stood tall and serious beforo her. She looked up, all her terror, all her helpless appeal for an instant in her large soulful eyes". Bub he did nob read it aright — what man ever does? And he came forward, hastily, eagerly. How beautiful she looked, how rioblo, how sweet-r-a wife for. any man to be proud of- He stooped over her and took her hand. The words were on his lips— in one moment all would be over !

' I have sought

* Lady Cecil,' he began. you here to —' He never finished the The door slid back, the curtain was lifted, and Miss Herncastle came into the room.

(To be Continued on Saturday Next.)