An Interrupted Marriage

Bush Advocate, Volume XXIII, Issue 310, 13 January 1912, Page 3

An Interrupted Marriage

(.Continued.)

So time passed : and then Wyndham Carre paid his long delayed visit to Crombc .Abbey.,' >S.ha had dc-spised her husband because he was a commoner ; she had refused to believe that merit of true nobility could belong to a man not nobly born; she had treated! him with coldness and contempt. Now she was to behold a man whose chief merit lay in what she valued so highly—noble birth. He prided himself upon it; he look upon his inferiors in station as people belonging to another world ; he treated them with insolent contempt. He talked of his order until Lady lanthe's face grew ; it was as though she saw herself in a glass.

Wvndham (Jarre spoke with a lisp—and lie never forgot himself or his own good looks. Yet he was a brave officer and a good soldier. One of the first things he did at Croombe was to injure a child as he was galloping along the high-road. True, it was an accident, but he had flung gold at the mother's feet when she came to pick up the, little one, and had uttered no kindly word to her. "When spoken to afterward about it, lie said that people of that kind had little feeling; they had no wounds so deep but that m ute,- could heal them—gold was their sovereign remedy. Lady lanthe contrasted such behaviour with the tender charity that had characterised Herman in all his dealings with the poor. Which was worthier of admiration—the man ot birth or the commoner ?

Again, it never occurred to Wvndham Carre to exert himself to render the least service to the Earl. If Lord Carre expressed a wish for anything, the younger man would, if near the bell, ring it and summon a servant ; if the old Earl longed for the help oT a kindly arm, his relative would raise his handsome eyebrows and say: "'Pon my honor, I regret that I was not cut out for the domestic .-irtues."

He was too indolent to read aloud, too careless to write letters, too indifferent to interest himself in matters pertaining to Croombe; and, again contrasting such selfishness with, the neverfailing solicitude of her husband. Lady Tanthe asked herself which was the nob!?r of the two? In the first excitement of seeing his kinsman again, the Karl had confided to him the story of his difficulties and his wonderful rescue. One of the bitterest trials of Lady Jantlie's life was to hear Wyndham (Jarre sneer about it. "Om; trood friend the tradesman" was his designation for the man who had 'lone so much. ''Where did our excellent friend the tradesman find this good tfst 1 ?" lie would ask. And, when he had heard the whole story of Herman's generosity, lie said, insolently: "It was an impertinent thing of him t> come ts the rescue of a family like ours."

Oh hearing this speech, Lady Tanthe's jjface 'flamed with indignation, and "her heart beat with anger. She turned to him abruptly. ' "You would not have done it,"' she said.

"No, my dear lady. I confess to a preference for number one."

"You have five thousand pounds, but you would not give them to save my father from ruin, would you ?'' "Since yon press the question, certainly not," he replied, with a laugh. "I knew it," she declared; "and, if you had. and my father had made use of your five thousand pounds you would have compelled him to repay t.'' 'T am afraid necessity would have left me no choice. We ( cannot all be as munificent as our good friend 'he tradesman. Tt is not given to us all to have t,he privilege of making,money;" "The trademan, as you choose to call him, is a thousand times nobler than you are!" she cried, indignantly. "My dear lanthe, yon forget what you arc saying." he sa'id, raising his eyebrows. "That kind of man could not be noble if he tried."'

And again she asked herself which gained bv contrast—the plebeian or her kinsman ?

She co ill el not help noticing, too, that the poor and t?te dependent who had so dearly loved and so generously praised her husband did not- like Wyndham Cure. 'He had a habit t)f treating his inferiors with insolence, not, unmarked by contempt. ire gave his orders (o servants with the air of a tyrant ; lie scolded and stormed if things did not please him. 'He was little loved in the household, yet he was nobly born. "When will the Squire be back?" peo pie began to ask. He had been gone three years now, and in his letters he said no word about returning. Lady Tantlie knew that he would never return—that he would remain in exile un : til death freed him. She for whose sake he had exiled himself—she whose pride had driven him from home—knew uhv he had gone, and knew also that she owned to herself that her opinion about him was changing. That which his eonstane presence, his unremitting love, his entire devotion, had failed to excite his absence and her thoughts of him aroused. Then came the time in which she was to experience-the gradual dawning of love in her heart. Wonderful news cams to Croombe—so wonderful that it was difficult to realise if,. The silver mine was to turn out an El Dorado at last. A clever and enterprising Englishman had examined it, and believed that it would pay to work it, and his prognostication turned out to be true. Slowly, but surely, the mine recovered itself; once more the shares were at a premium ; once more the hapless shareholders began to look for a golden fortune—and this time the dream was not vain.

"Tliev te]] me,'" said Wyndliam Carre to the Earl, "that the mine will shortly pay twenty per cent., ancl will most probably pay more. I wish my money were invested in it." Lord Carre listened• with a shudder. What had happened to that money before. and where was the man who had saved him? But it was to Lady lanthe that Wvnd hum spoke "Ft is like a romance." he said—"first to lose a fortune ar.d then to retrain it. Why, lanthe, you. will be one of the wealthiest women in England! What a pity it is that y-ou hampered yourself.

with that good,tradesman of yours'l'Ypii, might have- been a duchess." "Perhaps I prefer him to a duke," she rcjoixud angrily. ~.->l. > "Nonsense! Of course, now the thing is done, and there is no help for it, you are .wise in making the best oi' it ; but it is reaily a great pity that you were sacrificed to him."

She turned away, too indignant for words. How many times had she thought the same thing? Now to hear it told abruptly in words was torture. She went away and stood by the old sun dial in the garden, thinking of him. Poor fellow ? All his sacrifices had been in vain. He would hear now that even the fortune he had lavished upon them was given for nothing—it was not wanted.

Ladv lanthe thought long and mournfully of him ; and then she started on finding her face wet with tears. She, one of the proudest women in England, to weep for the plebeian husband whose love she had so completely scorned! Could it be possible? She laid her face on the mossy sun-dial. If she could only see liim—only see his face, with his passionate eyes locking into her own—only hear the voice that had always been so low and gent IJ for her! If she might but ,see him again, and tell him that his dream had come true—that she was ready to clasp her arms around his neck and sav she loved him at last!

Did she love him? Her face flushed, her heart beat, her hands tight.emd tightened their clasp. Love him. Yes! For he had the soul of a prince, this lowly-born vet noble husband of hers. And she loved him at last with all her heart. Should se write and t-JI him so? Ah, no! 1 hat was a different matter.

Three years had sped by, and lanthe had developed into a magnificently beautiful woman. _ Wyndham (Jarre often told her there was no one in England to equal her.

"it is such a great pity," he we>.;ild say, that you should be hampered with this horrible marriage. What is he like, tins worthy young trademan who is content to leave one ot the loveliest woimn in England, while lie looks alter his money in America?"

lou do no. know why he* w-nt away," she. stud.

He laughed with an air of "real amusement. °

'"Upon my word, lanthe," he said believe that you sent him away y-,ni-sei t oecause. you were ashamed of him." "I am not ashamed of him—he is 'the noblest num I have inti. ' "Not now, perhaps;-but he 'would neu'i* stay away all this time unless you had ordered it. Whr.t is he doi'ig? Mv leave of absence will have expired before he returns, so I shall not see linn.''

"He will not lose much by that'," retorted Lady lanthe. "You will—for you might take a lesson in good mann-'rs from him with great advantage.'' "I shall begin to think that I have been mistaken, and that you are in love with our good l'rined after' all." Should not a wife be in love with her husband?" she asked.

_ I suppose so; but rumor says he laded to win your love."

"Then rumor speaks falsely,'' she said, angrilv. " '

And then she thought bitterly of what she had exposed him to—of the sneers and taunts and ridicule—-this chivalrous man who had laid his heart at her feet

lint the time was corning when even the mocking laughter of Wyndham Carre should be hushed, and he would speak of Herman without a sneer. (To be contfnued.)