UNDER A CLOUD.

Bruce Herald, Volume XIII, Issue 1209, 4 June 1880, Page 5

UNDER A CLOUD.

(Prom 'Chambers's Journal.') IN TWO PAIITS —PA.XT I. Mas Cyril Staunton was a widow; her dress denoted that* and she bore upon her calm but somewhat stem countenance an expression of fixed melancholy, which involuntarily impressed people with the conviction that she had suffered more than ordinary grief. Riversdale, which was the name of the county town near which she had come to live, had a certain society and very exclusive set of its own. There were several county families and lesser lights as well; and the advent of a new neighbor had caused not a little curiosity and speculation. She had taken a smalfbut pretty house yclept The Cottage, on the outskirts of the town, situated in well laid * out though limited grounds of its own. And as it was discovered that the late Mr Cyril Staunton had belonged to a very old Northumberland family, and that she herself was the daughter of a deceased Scottish Baronet, her antecedents were sufficiently satisfactory to admit her into the "Upper Ten" of Riversdale society; besides which, her means, notwithstanding the unpretending way in which she lived, were evidently ample; and though she seldom relaxed from her gravity and coldness of demeanour, there" was a bright element in her house which more than made up for the chilling manner of its mistress, and that bright element was —her daughter. This daughter, Maude, was as sweet and charming as her mother was cold and severe. They had been settled at Riversdale for little over a year ; and latterly, in compliance with the wish of several of their new friends, Mrs Staunton had permitted Maude to participate in the not very brilliant festivities which the place afforded. Miss Staunton was just • eighteen, and never before having been a sharer in such entertainments, never dreamt of considering them dull, or of wishing for anything beyond them. She was thoroughly satisfied, and danced away with all the joyousness of a fresh, fair, unsophisticated child. Mrs Staunton never accompanied her daughter on those occasions. Her deep mourning would, she said, be singularly inappropriate and out of place. So Maude was invariably intrusted to the chaperonage of a Mrs Herbert, who, not having daughters of her own to dispose of, rather enjoyed the responsibility of the charge of the prettiest and best-dressed girl in the room, which Miss Staunton by general consent was soon acknowledged to be; and Maude herself was not blind to the fact that admiration and attention awaited her wherever she went. She could not help knowing it. It was very pleasant to her ; and the pleasure it gave shewed itself on every feature of her expressive face. There were times, however, when Miss Staunton looked sad, times when almost a shadow seemed to rest upon her brightness, dimming it for a few moments, until happier thoughts returning, chased what gloom there might have been away. People noticed that her moods were variable; and her enemies —for even sweet Maude Staunton had enemies —declared her sadness was simply assumed, because she fancied it suited her ; whilst her friends accounted for the shade by surmising that some secret care oppressed her. Mrs Staunton could not be a very cheering companion for .her, and but seldom were entertainments given at " The Cottage.'- Those, however, who were admitted to partake of tbe widow's hospitality described the menage as costly ancl unique. Her plate was of unusual niassiveness; and her wine could have borne comparison with even that of Lady Har riet Montfort's celebrated cellar. This Lady Harriet was the r/randc dame before whom all Riversdale and its surroundings bowed. She was the richest and the proudest woman imaginable ; haughty and arrogant to a degree ; ruling with no gentle hand those who came as she considered within the limits of her sceptz'e, ancl barely tolerating others who really were thoroughly equal by birth and position with her own imperious self. She was an impecunious Earl's only daughter. and at a mature age had married Mr Montfort, an alliance which, although brilliant as far as money went, for he was enormously rich, was considered by the Lady Harriet herself as a grievous mcxal*. liance. A Duke would scarcely have been good enough for her fastidious Ladyship. However, the Earl her father, who had come to years of discretion sufficiently to realise that blue blood would not hold its own without something solid to support it, and who had held on, by dint of mortgages, friendly loans, and innumerable ocher petty shifts, to the skirts of fashionable life - always needy, always at his wits' end for some new resource, decided that the Montfort thousands were not to be despised ; and after some battlesroyal in their shabby drawing-room with the Lady Harriet, her consent was gained, and George Montfort's daring proposal to wed her was accepted. "What had possessed good honest George to wish to make such a woman his wife, no one could imagine. She did not seem to have a single quality to attract the love of such a warm heart • not a vestige of the softness and gentleness without which a woman can have no charms. But George made a virtue of these notorious shortcomings ; her dark handsome face had bewitched him ; his happiness depended upon his winning her. So they were married; and he paid the Earl's debts, gave him an allowance,, and had made such settlements upon his bride that even she for the time being felt grateful. She was pleased too with Red Court, his splendid estate. The magnificence with which he surrounded her kept her in good

humor until she tired of having nothing to do and nothing to wish for ; her ennui and weariness did not improve her naturally disagreeable temper, which not even the birth of a son and heir tended to soften. Her pet grievance was her husband's lack of ancestry ; for who were the Montforts ? Proud as their name sounded their lineage was none ofthe noblest ; and their wealth was owed rather to their own successful efforts than to the lawful heritage derived from a line of predecessors. Mr Montfort died some ten years after his marriage, which had, as might have been expected, turned out far from happily. His wife's grandeur and haughty airs had been a pain and oppression to him ; he had no comfort in his splendid home ; no loving word or wifely action ever gladdened his heart. Nothing but his boy, his little Geoffiey, had George Montfort to care for, and upon him he lavished a depth of affection unknown almost to himself. However, death deprived the child of his father's tender love at a very early age ; and Lady Harriet shortly afterwards despatched her son to school ; no motherly feeling of weakness suggest. ing that it might; have been a comfort to her to have kept him a little longer under her own eye. Geoffrey was glad to go. Child as he was, be realised the coldness of his mother's heart. His periodical returns home were never joyous seasons to him ; there was no freedom, no legitimate enjoyment countenanced at Red Court • in fact it was always a glad day when the time of his departure came. Except for stolen expeditions with the gamekeepers, and exploits on horseback undreamt of by his dignified lady-mother, who prided herself upon upholding the dignitj' of her son — the grandson of the Earl — the boy's holidays would have beeu seasons of intolerable dreariness to him. Geoffrey's school and college clays were now over ; he had been of age for three years, and was now in full possession of his property — Red Court and five-and-twenty thousand a year ; less a jointure of five thousand yearly to the Lady Harriet, who continued as usual at the head of the establishment, where she would remain until Geoffrey married. His future settlement bad occupied nmch of Lady Harriet's thoughts. His wife was to be of her choosing ; that she had determined, and also made up her mind not to be satisfied with any ordinary mortal. Geoffrey's duty was to raise, the Montfort n:ime. He should marry, and marry well too. The bitter drop in her cup of having married beneath her should not be in his. No- J thing under a Duke's daughter should satisfy tlio maternal ambitions of her heart. Geoffrey was fully aware of his mother's desires and views for him. He calmly allowed h'T to have her own way, as far as laying plans went, inwardly determining, however, that when he did many, if he ever married at all, it should be for love not for lineage. Had George Montfort lived, he would have boon proud of liis broad-shouldered, handsome son, who was so like himself in everything that whs honorable and straightforward. There was nothing wonderful abouo him ; but he was a boy, or a man rather, of whom a parent might well be proud ; such a thorough gentleman in every sense of the word, with an Englishman's horroi'of anything approaching to humbug or deceit ; a being as different from his disagreeable mother as it was possible to conceive. One could scarcely fancy him to be a bitter enemy ; but one could easily imagine him a firm friend. His temper was quick without a shade of suilenness ; and in pciiifc of generosity he excelled almost to a fault. To hearjof a trouble or to be told of a strait, with Geoffiey Montfort was to relieve it forthwith. The Duke's dauglifer had been duly selected by Lady Harriet — the Lady Margaret Theophila Fitz-lloward — not very yonng, nor very lovely, nor very fascinating either, but still a Duke's daughter ; and as she was coining with her mother, Her Grace the Duchess, to pay a visit to Red Court, their visit was to be celebrated by a grand ball, to which all Ihe people in the neighborhood were to be invited. Perhaps it was owing to the fact of Mrs Staunton's good connections, perhaps to a whim for which no one could account, but Lady Harriet had some time previous to the announcement of her ball called at the Cot Age. So in due time an invitation arrived for the ball, to which as usual it was arranged that Mrs Herbert should chaperone Maude. Everybody was going to it. It was to be on a scale of extraordinary grandeur; a.nd for a week or two preceding it, the local dressmakers who were; con-ud-Ted reliable enough to be trusted with the costume, had but a poor time of it as regarded rest and quietness. They wero kept working early ami late cutting out and contriving all manner of elegances for this wondrous ball. Basket after basket went forth charged with costly contents, bloomy velvets, shimmering silks and satins, delicate, tulles, and fragile tarlatanes, over wliich the intended wearers hung with rapture, or perhaps the reverse when carefully drawn forth for inspection. The solitary hairdresser Riversdalo possessed had more engagements for the eventful night than he could possibly fulfil ; in fV.ct even one seemed to have some share in the general excitement which the forthcoming ball had called forth. 'What would Maude Staunton wear? That was queried in more than one dress-ing-room coterie. She was sure to have something ridiculously grand ; so said Miss Beatrice Browning, a tall, dark, handsome girl, who regarded Maude with feelings of unmixed aversion. Before her advent, Miss Browning had imagined herself the reigning beauty ; and her appearance was therefore looked upon as an unwarrantable intrusion npon her established rights. "Who was Mis* Staunton? What was

she to come to Riversdale and interfere with other people's positions? In the privacy of her own home, Miss Browning did not spare Miss Staunton * but in public, as yet she only stabbed her by very innocent and quietly uttered innuendos, " damning in faint praise " in any remarks she made upon one whom she chose to consider in the light of a rival and trespasser upon her own particular territory. Miss Browning had determined to make an impression at the Red Court; ball ; and feeling certain Miss Staunton would appear in some magnificent attire, resolved to anticipate her own not too ample allowance, and to invest in a dress sufficiently splendid to eclipse and extinguish anything the latter could have thought of. The night had arrived and with it her dress. "White satin — what could be handsomer I—blonde1 — blonde lace, crimson roses, gold leaves, pearl ornaments. Surely nothing could surpass such a combination ! Her dark hair was elaborated into a wonderful edifice ; and her face was lighted up with a smile of unutterable contentment when at last she surveyed herself, dressed for conquest, prior to entering the ball-i*oom, where though dancing had not as yet commenced, already more than half the company were assembled. The band struck up their preliminary chords just as Miss Browning marched in under the wing of her inoffensive little mother, a meek' eyed matron, attired in the regulation black velvet and white lace shawl adopted by so many British dowagers. Mr Montfort was leading out fche Lady Margaret Theophila Fitz-Moward to open the ball ; and there just opposite to him, with her arm resting upon that of a gentleman unknown to Miss Browning, stood Maude Staunton, waiting to take her place in the first quadrille. She was dressed in a simple white tulle, devoid of any color or ornament ; it was exquisitely made in a series of cloudy skirts. In her hand she carried a splendid bouquet of white camellias aud narcissus ; and a bud of the former resting against its dark shining green leaves nestled amid the massive coils of her fair hair. There was nothing magnificent about her except a glittering dia- ! mond star, which she wore suspended from a broad black velvet band round her neck; but there wis something so fresh, so fair, so simple, yet withall so striking about her, that the charming ensemble caused Miss Browning's color to fade into as great a pallor as if she had seen an apparition. The sweetness of Maud's appearance was still further enhanced by fche expression of her face, which at the beginning of the evening chanced to be more ihan usually sad. She was the belle of the room — grudgingly as some acknowledged it, there was not a doubt of the fact ; and no one there more ardently admired her than the host himself, who hud never before met her under similar circumstances. 'Wise men have acknowledged thafc ifc requires neither time nor space, to fall in ] 0 ve — thafc fche tender passion may be kindled by a very passing glimpse — our fate sealed for good or for evil by a very brief hall-hour. So ifc w.is with Geoffrey Montfort aud Maude Staunton. The glamour came over them ; and that evening was ono scene of pleasure aud triumph to tho widow's only daughter ; for even the Lady Margaret Theophila stood sadly neglected, whilst Greoffrey, careless of his mother's fierce regards, again and again selected as his partner the fair Maude Staunton. Mrs Herbert was rejoiced at her charge's conquest. Out of all the numbers who had assembled in those brilliant rooms she alone felt proud and pleased. The general feeling was certainly not friendly ; bub what cared Geoffrey 1 What cared Maud ? They were both young, both impulsive; the present was all to them ; and when at length tbe gay scene ended, and under his escort she was placed by Mrs Herbert's side, carefully wrapped up, and the door of the carriage was closed, she leant back flushed and radiant, exclaiming — ' 0 Mrs Herbert, this has been the happiest evening I ever spent ! I never enjoyed anything so much in my life !' Whilst; G-eoffrey returned to the ballroom to bi«l adieu fco his less appreciative guests, and to ignore the sullen lowering looks of her Ladyship, who would have been more violent; in her disapproval had she guessed that her wishes were to have no weight as regarded tbe Lady Margaret ; for he had determined if he ever married at all, his wife would be Maud Staunton ; and he meant it. (To br coii/uiur.J.)