LADY AIREDALE'S LAST VISITOR-,

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume XXX, Issue 10011, 8 June 1895, Page 5

LADY AIREDALE'S LAST VISITOR-,

[NOW FIRST PUBLISHED]

BY ADELINE SERJEANT Author of "Jacobi's Wife," "Under False Pretences," &o.

It always struck me that the little Kentish village of Underwood rmelt of the plant variously known in different parts of England as " lad'a-love," "old man," or " southernwood." It grow in every garden ; it formed a part of every village posy: it was as characteristic of the place as the tall white lilies were characteristic of Cheveley, the lordly mansion that stood outside the village and dominated it in the way that great oountry houses in rural spots still dominate the villages or hamlets at their feet. The Wy-beda d£ Cheveley were famous throughoufc^he oouutry, and they were supposed to be under the special care of the reigning Lady Airedale, the mistress of Cheveley. But the Lady Airedale of whom the following story has become known to me (through a servant* indisoretioD, it must be confessed) never set tool in her garden for many yoara before ahe died. The Airedale Arms, a highly respectftbleinn In the middleof the village, an inn that aped gentility aud called itself an hotel, was as redolent of southernwood as of beer. A great ju? of it always ttspd on the bar-couutar, behind whioh the florid-faced grey-boarded innkeepoi himself presided with the assistance of a gentle-faoedaweet-voloedbaroaaid.Mary, who was a delioate-looking creature, apparently quite unfit for the post she filled. But Mary was a very oapable young person, in spite of her delloate looks, and the bar of the Airedale AnnE was not as a role frequented by any but the most respectable of travellers. Here the bagman in his gig would pull np and ask for a drink : hero village worthies oolleoted after a local festivity — a wedding or a funeral; here the latest items of gossip from (he " big houses' were discussed. The tramp and the labouring man were discouraged : thej might drink if they could pay; but they usually felt themselves uncomfortable in such high and aristocratic society as thai whioh the landlord, Mr Parker, liked tc gather round him, and slouched away tc the White Hart or the Spotted Dog public-houses, In which their soiled clothes and baskets or bundles were not looked on askance, and where they were not jostled aside by snpercltions butler; and coachmen out of livery who had come for their morning dram. Indeed Mr. Parker's fame as a careful landlord was so great that he was frequently requested to " put up " gentlemen from the Eeotory or the Hall, or Ohevelej itself, for a night or two ; and he prided himself on his power of making suofa guests comfortable. He partioolatlv liked to have my lord's guests : the bill .. was always promptly paid, and a handsome douceur generally added thereto by the Earl himself. He made more in that way than by half the dinners the Freemasons and the Burial Clubs and the baan-feasters held in his big dining room every spring and summer. He was not sorry, therefore, but a little carious, when a gentlemen who had come in a fly from the station (three-quarters of a mile away), announced to the waiter that he did not think he should remain long at the Airedale Arms, because he . was going up to Cheveley to see Lord and Lady Airedale. "He-wont see my lady," remarked Mr. Parker to one of his assistants, " foi she s ill in bed from all I hear. I've seen the doctor's carriage go up twice to-day. "He said it very consequential-like,' said the' waiter, who was boots and general factotum at the Airedale Arms, as well as waiter on grand occasions, "en if he thought a sight of 'imself for going there. 'I'll mebbe stay at Chevtley,' says he, ' so you needn't order dinner fm me just yet. I'd like to see the landlord , ssys he, 'and pretty quick." "Why, you great fool you never fold me," said Parker, resentfully. He was not a genial boat; he was a trifle morose at times and not communicative ; but he was always attentive to the wishes of his x customers. He went upstairs at once and knooked at the door of the little sitting-room Into which the visitor had been shown. "Come in, oomein," said a loud, blnff voice. " Come In ; no ceremony. You're tho landlord, eh f Let's have a drink. WhUky and seda, ehP" Mr. Parkor bowed and ordered tbo liquors. It struck him that the stranger was a trifle too familiar for a friend of the Airedales. Who could he be P Parker had read the label on the visitor's luggage ; but it told him nothing. " Mr. Zaokary N. Brambleby, Esquire, late of Chicago, Airedale Castle, Underwood, England," It was a quaint inscription, and Parker gaped at its very obvious errors. " There ain't no Airedale Castle that - I ever heard of, " he growled to himself, '■ " so p'raps he's come to the wrong ad. dress. Maybe he's one of them rich Americans one hears of. Not many of them up Oheveley way, I take It." And he grinned as he went back to the little pailor, whither Mary followed him with all the' ingredients for toddy on a little lacquered tray. Zachary N. Brambleby, if that were his dame, was a broad-shouldered, stout man, fairly tall, very florid, grey-whis-kered and blue eyed. He was dressed in well-fitted black olothes, his lioen was spotless, the gold chain that undulated acroes his portly frame was singularly heavy, and the diamonds in his rings wore genuine as well 83 large. From the top of his well-brushed grejr hair to the tips of his polished boots-he looked rich and respectable. There was a little too much awagger and self-aaliafaction about him for the ordinary British merohant ; and indeed, when he opened his lips, the ear was assailed by an unmistakable Yankee twang. In build and complexion he was not at all unlike Parker himself, if Parker had been a little bigger and more general he' might have passed at Mr. Brambleby's brother. It was an English, not an American, type. " Sit down, landlord," said Mr Brambleby. ''Let's Bee what sort of stuff you've got here. Hot bad — not bad at all Now how long have you been landlord of this here little inn, eh ?" "I've had the Airedale Arms for a matter of twenty years," said Parkar rather sulkily, " and I think, sir, you'll find It a comfortable sort of place." "Oh, I dare say, I dare say. But I ain't going to stay here my good man, it's all very well this side the water, but a oountry village is not the place for me. No, air. British born as £ was, lam now a free independent, respeoted American oltizen ; and I despise your one-hoss village ale houses; I despise them all." «< Then, excuse me, sir, ] wonder you come to them," said Parker, with a touch of temper, which was not to be wondered at. " I don't come to stay, landlord ; I don't come to stay. I'm going on to Airedale Castle, nfcroight away." "There isn't auch a place in the neighbourhood," said Mr Parker, with aome inner satisfaction. "EhP No Airedale Castle? Then

I've been misinformed. Don't tho Airedales live about here P " Thero was a deoided change of manner In the man as ho asked this question. It seemed almost as if he had been acting a part during the earlier part of the interview. " Hia lordship the Earl of Airedale, and her ladyship the Countess of Airedale occupy the mansion of Chevely In tbo immediate neighbourhood of TJnder- • wood," said Mr Parker in bis grandest tones. " And there's uo other Lord and Lady Airedale in this country, is there P" asked the stranger. " No, air. Her ladyship tho Dowagor Oonntoss died thirteen years ago." "Woll, you lay it on thick in your blessed old country with your lordships and ladyships," said Mr Brambleby, good-bumouredly. " Look here old man, what sort of a lady is Lady Airedale? Stuck up a bitP or affable and friendly ?" " Her ladyship's a most affable lady," Baid Parker, " and moßt benevolent to the poor. Very kind to her servants, too, and to them that are la want. Her ladyship is very much beloved." "Is she now 1 " said the stranger with interest. " And bis lordship, is he fond of her P Does the stepson bphave decently to her ? She'B got girls of her own, I hear." Parker's hair began to rise on his head with horror. " Du> you mean my Lord Sunning, sir J I have always beard tEar he was most attached to L»dy Airedale, and very grate r ul to her for all her care, i My lord himself, the Barl, sir, simply i worships the ground ahe treads on. i And two more loving young ladies thai • Lady Lilian and Lady EHinor couldn't i be found ; my wife's niece was maid > there onoe, and ahe tells me its beautiful to 608 them." Mr Brambleby's faoe beamed with i satisfaction. " Like a piotar to think of, i ain't it? "he said complacently. "Now 1 who would be suoh a fool as to try to 3 disturb suoh bliss P Not Zaohary N. i Brambleby, thank the Lord. I'm not r made of suoh stuff as that. I'll just go i up to the house and say how d'ye do to , my lady, and then I'll go back to , America." 3 "To Bee my lady, sirP " repeated Mr 3 Parker, rubbing his ohm. B " Ay, old man, to see my lady. Why 3 not P Oh, you think I'm a bit below j them, do you? I can tell you one thing, i. though, I'm a relation-—-" He paused, 1 as if afraid to commit himself to anyb thing further. r "A relation— to my lady 1 " said the t landlord, opening hia rather dull and " Aeapy eyes. 0 "Tbb, a relation— a near relation — a f relation by marriage, anyway ! " And 1 then Mr Brambleby roared out a sudden \ laugh, as If the idea were more amusing t than he had realised at first. j " I'm afraid you won't be able to see ■> the Countess," said Parker, after a j minute's pause, " Even if you go up to i Cheveley ; for I suppose " — almost with t a sneer — " that you mean to go." a "Of course, I mean to go; what's g more, I mean to stay there ; I'm going 1 to be Lord Airdale's guest for a few 1 days, I can tell you." 1 "But," said Mr Parker, drily, j "they're not entertaining visitors just l at present at Cheveloy. Lady Airej dale is seriously ill." 1 He had produced an impression at i last. Mr Brambleby's jaw suddenly f fell: his color grew more purple than 1 florid, and his hand shook as he put . down the whisky, i " Seriously ? " he asked, l "It's an illness of long standing. 3 j She's had all the best London doctors, I and gone about from one plaae to r another in search of health but all to no purpose. Better keep at home, I j always think. And I'm afraid this is 3 the last of it. They say she's dying j fast." r " Good Lord ! " gasped Mr Bramblei by. " But it can't be true. When I've i come all the way over from America, I just to speak to her— l'll go up to the Caetle this very night and see." I "On no, sir; no, sir. That would r never do, I'm afraid," said Parker, i with a shake of the head and a little smile. " Why, it's olose on their dinner 1 time, and besides, my lady will have i gone to sleep maybe ; you can't go at , that hour, unless you've got an invitaa tlon, or they're expecting you." j " Well, no, they ain't exactly expeot- ' ing me," said Brsmbleby, with a queer r little laugh. "I should startle them considerable, that's a faot. I surmise I'll take your advise, Mr Landlord, and 1 sleep here to-night. Then I can walk ? up to the Earl's palatial halls to-morrow a morning." 3 He made the allusion to Cheveley in ; what Parker took to be a sneering tone, and the landlord withdrew, feeling somewhat offended with his guest. "He isn't a gentleman, not a bit of it, though he does wear diamond rings," ha said to Mary, who he reached the safe seclusion of the bar; "he's a commercial agent, I fanoy, or one of those pigdealers from Chicago that one reads about in the papers. But he did look cast down all of a sudden when he heard that my lady was so bad; he turned purple about the gills and ohslky-whlte, I can tell you." "Nobody knows much about my lady," said Mary, who waa sitting at her work behind the bar, no customers being present. " Perhaps he is one of her relations— who's made a fortune in America." "Let's hope so," said tho landlord, gloomily ; but he thrnst out his lips and shook his head as if he did not antlolpato so satisfactory an explanation of Mr Brambleby'a visit to Cheveley. But death was already at the Earl of Airedale's door, an earlier visitor than even Mr Brambleby, who had purposed to call betimeß. The Countess died as the dawn came stealing in, at three o'clock in the morning, and the news reached the Airedale Arms before sis. But the landlord refused to let the guest be told. "He said he'd have his 'ot water at eight," said Parker, obstinately. "And at eight o'clock he'll hear the bell toll, and Jim can tell him who it is, and nobody need disturb him till then. I believo it's all gammon that he's a relation of her ladyship. He looks lika a Countess's brother, or cousia, or something, don't he ? " Mr Parker was waxing quite sarcastio in his repud.ation of the idea. Mr Brambleby, however, not knowing what had happened, awoke at five o'clock, aud felt too restless and overheated to sleep any longer. He rose about six, drosßed himseif leisurely, and descended the stairs. There was only one eatrance to the Airedale Arms, and that was through the bar. The door stood wide open, but the bar and the entrance hall were deserted, for the landlord and his satellites were discussing the recent news in the baokyard, and consequeotlyMr Brambleby passed out of the house unnoticed. The clock struck seven as he left the inn, and he took, as jf by instinct, the road that led him straight to Oheveley Park gates. The woman at the lodge only ourtseyed as he passed by. Sho took him for somebody from the neighbouring town of Fairoaks. The undertaker or perhaps the registrar. Mr Brsmbleby could not see the house at first, for the ground ' rose between it and the gate ; but ' gradually, as he ascended a wide gravell- > ed road, he oame to a spot from whioh < he obtained a good view of the stately < stone building, with its mallioned ' windows, its fine terrace, its solemn- ' looking cedar trees. The windows 8 were all curtained, but Mr Brambleby * attributed this fsct to the earliness of t his visit to tho park and the laziness of ? the Countess's pampered menials. "It's I a fine spot," he murmured to himself, ' r

with his fingers stuck in his waietcoat I pockoto, and hia bat tilted q very littlo J r to the back of his hee.d, " and I must I t aay tlwfc Aminty's dona well for herself, i I don't mean to iutorfore with her, not s I." l He wandered about (ho park a littlo ] while longur, anil oamo at lsst to a ; light wiro feneo, which divided the j grassy alopes from the fl iwer garden. ( Ilero ha stood still. Ho web olose to i the celebrated lily beds of the Airedalo ; ladles ; and moving from one plot to | another, with slow and noiseless foot- ' atep, ho saw the figure of n girl In white. , It vw.l a slender, grnoeful figure in a plain cambric frock, with n blnck ribbon at ttm waitit, and as Mr Bramblc-by gazed, ha gaspod out the words, " Aminity, by Jove ! " Hearing a sound, the girl turned and looked at him. Then ho aaw that she was not the woman of whom he waa in search. Sho wns younger and she was — yen, perhaps she was— more beautiful. She had dark eyes, a pulo but clear complexion, a atateliness of mien such as almost alarmed him. But in a momeut or two he reoovared his solf-posaession, and aaid to himself, " Aminty's daughter, I suppose ! '' Then bo touk off his hut with a flourish, made a low bow, aud advauced s step nearer the fenoo. The girl, who had been gathering lilies and laying them one by ono in a long shallow basket, drow back. Her oyeß exprea^od surprise, but no alarm ; it was plain, as Mr Brambleby remarked, that ahe had been weeping bitterly. Perhaps the consciousness of a roal sorrow blunted her perceptions, but indeed Mr Bramble bj's highly respectable appearance, his red face, grey side \yhinkers, black clothes and fine gold chain, did not lea.l one to conjecture that he was a member of the swell-mob or anything elso objectionable. Lady Lilian was not, however, accustomed to being spoken to by Indiscriminate Btrangers, and she might well look surprised. " I bag your pardon, miss — my lady," said Mr Brambleby, " bat I've come all the way from Obioßgo to make your arquaiatanoa, and to fee jour mamas," "To see — " Lady LiUau's faca flushed \ scarlot. Slio could not finiah the sentence. " Yes, miss, to see your matnma. Amln ly Jonea, she was. And I'm a connection of hers — i near relation. Ono of the nearest she'B got, I lay." And Mr Brambleby ohuokled. " And I want to speak to her. No offence, miss ; ' it won't do her no harm to recognise an old friend, even If ho did happen odoj to be a pork butcher.-" Lilian had been backing for a minute 1 or two, as if she wanted to get as far away from this extraordinary person as possible, but she now found herself arrested by the branches of a standard rose-tree, and waa obliged to stop. Mr Brambleby would have gone 0:1 again, but she interrupted him with a low cry of pain. . "Oh, ploaso "top," she said. "Of course you do not know — you are a stranger here — but my dear mother died this morning at three o'clook. I am gathering these lilies to pat beßide her." And she fumed aside as if to pluok another blossom, but in reality to oheck tho rising tears. She could not bear to weep before a stranger — even for her mother. Mr Brambleby brought down his band on his thigh with a *, 'ounding slap. " Darn it all!" he cried. "Aminty dead ! Daad .' And me some all the way to the old oountry to see her ! We'll, that do boat everything ! If it hadn't been for that blessed old fool at the Inn I shonld have come on last night, and then I should ha' boon in time for a word with her." " My mother would not have been able to see you," said Lilian coldly. " She was very weak. I£ you wero a friend of hers" — whioh she did not believe — "I am sorry you did not come sooner. Good morning." She bowed her dainty head, and was about to move slowly but decidedly away, when a shout from Mr Brambleby stopped her. "Hullo! Hold on! I'll walk with you up to the house." Then moderating his voice, and patting one big leg carefully over the wire fence : " If I don't see her living I'll^co her dead. I'm bound to look at her faca once more." " Sir 1 " said Lady Lilian, haughtily, '•your presence is an intrusion." " All right, my dear ; no offence," returned Mr Brambloby, panting a little with his efforts to get over the fence and overtake tho youngjflady, who was now walking swiftly towards the house. " You can't deny me you know ; I'vo the right; you don't want to make a aoaudal ; you just let me speak to your papa, and he'll see the rights of It." The short sentences, bolted out, one after another, produced some effect on Lady Lilian, who In the midst of her grief was very reasonable. "I suppose I had better let him come tV the bouse," she reflected, " and tell poJfpapa about him, I don't like to threaten him with the servants, he looks so determined. Besides, it would not be nice for him to talk to them about my dear mother as ho is talkiDg to me. A friend of hers, indeed! How dire heP" And L'idy Lilian curled her lips disdainfully, even while the hot tears started to her eyes, at the idea. It was with scant courtesy that she turned, at last, to the flushed and perspiring Mr Brambleby, who was toiling up the rising pathway at her side. " I will take you into the library, ' sho said, " and *sk my father if he will speak to you ; but of course he is very much overcome, and is not at all likely to be able to do so." Mr Brambleby nodded, quite unimprassed by the severity of the young ladj'a tones. He was thinking that when once he had got into ths houso, it would bo difficult to get him out agaiu until his objeot wero attained. Ho followed Lady Lilian's footsteps, therefore, with submission. She ascended a flight of stops leading to the terrace, walked down the terrace a littlo way, and then opened a glass door which led into the room of which sho had spokon. Hero ahe bade Mr Brambloby remain, Sho did not even ask him to take a chair ; but Mr Brambleby not being lioabled by shyness, eat down and gazad about him with admiration and delight. "To think now," lie aaid to himself, "of all this belonging tc Aininty ! I'm. glad Ive seen it — that I am. It does oredit to old Englnnd aod a bioitad aristocraoy after all, sir ! A pity she had to go and leave it ! but she was always frail and sickly, was Aminty ! Poor Aminty ! Poor little girl ! " He rubbed his forehead with a gorgeous red silk handkerchief, and looked up and down the room. The '. ceiling waa painted with nymphs and i dryads in a style whioh he felt that he i did not understand. The walls were '. lined with rows of richly bound volumes ; the very chaira wore works i of art, carved oak, aud antique j the . oarpets wore softer than velvet and fall I of rich and harmonious colouring. Tho i blinds, of course, were down, but Mr 1 Brambleby could sao that old heraldic i devices were painted on the lozjuge- I I shaped panes, and that the velvet haug- c in«s of each wiudow recess were of those ] exquisite shados which only a splendid r old ago can give. The Chioa;;o pork c butcher waa no doubt a Philistine at c heart, aud would have preferred ormulu » and crimson saliu fur his o.vn apart- b ments; but ho waa uot unmoved by the f beauty of his surroundings, at whioh he was still staring open-mouthed when. I Lord Airedale came quietly into the j a :oom. 1 y

The Earl was not a very tall mnn, I lor porlif»ps a very handsome one; but i bis appearance was undoubtedly impos- ] i iDg. We, iv Underwood village, always ' i 9poke of him as an aristocratic-looking man. Ha bud snow-white hair — very 1 little of it — a slight amount of whisker, | an acquUino nose, thin lips, and steel 1 gray eyes. Ho wna not perhaps very clever, but ha waa reputed one of tho ] most honourable and conscientious of ; English gentlemou — no light praise, surely, even in these levelling times P The thorough-bred air so characteristic of his daughter whs apparent in every line of his features, every movement of his erect littln figuri'. Even hh Into vigil, his grief, hia long faßt — for he hod forgotton to touch food, in his anxiety, since the previous day's luncheon hourhad not ruffled his outward demaanour : he was aB composed, as tranquil, m outwardly neat, as on any ordinary occasion. • But his cold eyes wore heavy, and their rims were rod. " My daughter informs me, sir," said Lord Airedale, " that you were a friend of Lady Airedale's. Any friend of Lady Airedale's ia weicome here." The Earl probably kuew more about his wife's conneotions than Lilian did. "You have heard, I think, that you nro too late to see her ngain, If you had any news to impart " The Earl paused : he felt conscious of some peculiarity in Mr Brambleby's !»aze. The visitor was inspecting him from tnp to t^e, as if trying to appraise him at his full value. * When the Earl stopped Mr Brambleby nodded. 11 That's so,'' he said.' " I don't know that I had any news — not any of Importance, bo to ppoak. Bnt as to being too late to see her again, my lord. See her ngain I roust." "See her — now ? " said Lord Airedale. The tnoro he looked at the man the more relncUnt he felt to harbor the idea that this vulgar, red-faced, American bore any relationship to his wife. And to let him gaze upon her — dead — would be an insult to the woman that he had loved. " Bat — I fear — may I ask whether you were — h'm — connected with Lady Airedale in any way ? " " I was connected with her pretty conBld'able," said Mr Brambleby, plunging his hands dcop into his pockots, and stariog very hard at Lord Airedale. "'Yes, I knew Aminty right down well. No offence, I hope P She's probably mentionei my name to you — Brambloby P Brambleby, of Ohloago ; pork." Lord Airedale started and changed colour. "I understand," he said. "You are a relation of her — her first husband, and you wore, in fact, on friendly terms with h«r. But of course that does not justify — I don't know what they do in America, sir, but in England we do not make a show of our dead. I think sou must excuse me " " Bnt I ain't going to excuse yon," said Brambleby firmly. " £ don't siy but it's natural in you to bo so pornlokity about it ; bnt undoc present circum stances, I can't allow it. I've come t' sco Aminty, and, alive or dead, Aminty I must see." " I tell you, sir " "It's no good telling me anything,' said the pork butcher, his voice growing louder, and his deeply dyed face more darkly rod. " I've the right t' ace her, and I will ! " " What right can you " Lord Airedale did not finish his sentcnoo, because of a sound that ho heard behind him. A young man, of very frank and pleßsing exterior, had opened tho door and entered the room. Lord Airedale put out his hand as if to stop him. He J 'd not want his daughter Liliao's lover, ihe Marquis of Silvertown, that eminently eligible young man, to join in this discussion. But: he wa9 too late. "Lilian sent me," said Silvertown quietly. She thought you might want me. Would you like to go to breakfast now, while I — entertain — this gentleman P " "Silvertown," said the Earl, turning almost pitoously to his future son-in-law, " explain to him — you can explain better than I— he is a relation of my dear wife's first husband, and he — he wants to see her now — I aak what right he has to Intrudo I " "Every right," replied Mr Brambleby, standing erect, with his face the colour of a poppy. He had evidently worked himself into a towering rage. " Every right in the world ! I didn't come from Chicago to be treated in this way ! I'll sue her before I go, darned if I won't ! What right have I? Why, I'm her husband, sir ; aha was my wife before she was yours ! " If ever a man's bodily security was imperilled Mr Brambleby had imperilled his own. Silvertown, being a man of hasty temper, made a sudden daah at him, with the intention of kicking him out of tho room ; but Lord Airedale, though trembling very much, laid a restraining hand upon the young man's arm. "Stop a moment, Geoffrey, stop a moment ; we must hear the man out now. This is not the time for unseemly altercation." "But it's a lie!" cried Silvertown, hotly. " It's a lie ! " Mr Brambleby stood his ground with undimini.shed self-importance. " It's no lie," he said doggedly. " It'B Gospel truth, Aminty Jones married me in Louisviilo four and twenty yoars_ ago. Then I was knooked on the head in a souffle, and folks told her I was dead. Well, ahe went away from the town, and I could never find her again. Hoard she went to England, and the ship was lo3t. I Burmise that it was not lost, sir, and that she met this English lord somewhere or other and married him, believing that I was dead. I don't blame her. Wuooould? I thought 6ho was dead too; theugh I alwajs kept my eyes ajjd ears open ou the ohanco of finding her again. A month ago a chap showed me one o' your society papers, with some remarks on American pals, And a list o' those that have marriid British lords. And there I saw that Aminty Jones, reliot of Zachary N. Brambleby, had married the Eirl of Airedale. Well, I'm Zaohary N. Brambluby anyway. Plenty of people'il swear to that. Here's my busnic?n card. Ami here " — producing a bloated pocket-book, and beginning to turn out the contonts — " hero's a phottygraph of her, and ' letters, and the marriage certificate, and " " There is no Dcod to continue thia conversation, sir," said Lord Airedale, with tromulous dignity. "If your story 13 true, and if you have come prepared to prove it, the details had batter ba loft to anothor " Why ! " roared Mr Brambleby, for once genuinely astonished, "you don't thin't tliia ycr's all a lie, do you ? " For a minute both men were startled. Lord Airedalu had fcunk Into a chair, ' and Silvertown was leaning over him and pressing his shoulder affeotionately. But neither of them spoke. "What should I come oil this way for i£ it weren't true P " said the American. "I don't want to get anything by it. I don't want anything from you, Lord Airedale, and I didn't want anything from Aminty. It was rather tho other way. I've made my pile, T have, and I heord tell that some of the British lorda wore onoommou i poor. My idea win to see Aminty and < luiiko suru it waa hur, and ask her if 1 I joukl tlo anything for nor or her 1 ;hiliiren, and t'leu — scoot. I didn't uoau to tell his lordship anything ( ibout it. Get introduced to him as a t riond of the fani'ly, maybe, and " \ "But you never surely thought that t jady Airednle would keep me in ignor- » race of tho truth, if she recognised c -om P " said the Earl flbarplyjj i

"Why not, sh-P She'd free of mo <i \pd I of hor ; seven years' soparalion \\^ makes any man or woman free to marry > i again, don't it?" ux "So," said Silvertown. "That's a ■„ mistake, made sometimes by the — the vc people. You don't mean to say you o i believe it?" " Yes, I do, Bir," replied Brambleby, q i looking up and down. " And who are f 0 you that denios it." <. c "I'm going to marry Lady Lilian— m my natno's Silvertown," said the young w man hotly, " and if you think that you, a with thii precious story of yours, oan {„ destroy hor position in tho world, and i j' blast the happiness of our home, you'ra c , mistaken. When Lilian's my wife, ail ]j hope she will be directly, If I over hear w a word of this affair from any man I'll 0 ' horsewhip him first, and Bhoot him „ afterwards." j "But, good Lord, my man," said Mr Brambleby, gasping, " I don't mean [j any harm to Lady Lilian, or any of 'era. v I took It for granted that Amlnty's r second marriage was legal enough. 1 a didn|t mean to .rnttution it for fear of <; hurting anyone's feelings, mo being only $ a common, rough sort of chap ; but as r or injuring anybody— why, blest if I q know what you meau." , "It means," said Lord Airedale j quietly, though his faoe was white to j the lips, " that if my marriage was ( illegal, my two daughters have no claim ( to their present name or position, for , they would be— illegitimate." \ There was a little silence. Then Mr . Brambleby, with rather uncertain fiugors, gathered up his papers, and put , them agaiu loto his pocket, felt for his , hat. and looked longingly at the door. "Is that boP" he said. "I didn't understand the law in this here old oountry of yours. I think I'll wish you good morning, gentlemen. I haven't anything more to say." This Budden oollapse took both Lord Airedale and the youne Marquis by surprise. The latter seized Brambleby by the arm. " Coma baok," he Baid, in great excitement, " You mustn't go like that. You must tell us what you mean to do, What steps are you going to take?" Brambleby looked at him in silence for a moment, in a eadness not without dignity. " I'll thank you to let go of my arm, young man," he said. "I don't know what you mean by steps. I'm just going straight back to America. I had no intention of causing trouble in the family, least of all to the pretty girl I saw in the garden just now, though ahe might have treated me a bit more civil. But she's just like Aminty, as my lord can tell you if helikee. I didn't rightly know that my being alive would make such a difference to Aminty's gals. I meant just to say to her, ' Wai, Aminty, I'm glad you've done so well for yourself, and I hope the British aristocrats -behave polite to you. If there's anything you want doing, just let me know and I'll do it.' And then I should have taken. myself off, without a word to his lordship, unless I'd been asked to stay, reg'lar, as a friend of tho family — " "But would you have allowed a woman to commit bigamy P " cried Lord Airedale, with sudden vehemence. Brambleby shook his big head. " I had a wife an' family myself for seven years out in Chioago," he said, meekly. " I thought Amtnty was dead, you sac. My folUs all died of yellow fever one summer, and that made me think more about Aminty. I've .made my pile, and if you'll allow me, Bir, I'd like to leave it all to those two gals. As a family friend — a cousin of Aminty's first huaband, let us say — I shall hold my tongue, never you fear ; and tho gals will be all right. P'raps it's just as well that poor Aminty is gone, for she might have felt troubled in her mind if she'd known that I was alive." _ " Mr Brambleby," said Lord Airedale, rising, " if you would like to see her — now " ".Well, thank ye, my lord. I think I'd not. It waa just your opposition that made me ao set on it, you see. And I dare 1 say Bbc looks different now from what I remember her. You see, when I saw hex last, ehe looked like the young lady in the garden— and that's a lone time ago. I think I prefer to remember her like that. But I'd like to shake hands with you, my lord, and thank you for taking good oare of my poor Aminty." fie had got out his red handkerchief as he spoke, and waa openly wiplrjg bis eyes. mLord Airedale took the hard toii-woMi hand that was held out to him, and pressed it warmly, and Silvertown, after a moment's hesitation, did tbo same. " Is It possible that the man's story can be trne?" the Marquis ventured to whisper, when the front door had closed, and Mr Brambleby's broad* back was seen retreating down the avenue. " TrnoF 1 ' aaid Lord Airedale, droamily. " Oh, yeß; it was all true. I remembered his face when ho began to talk. My wife had a portrait of him, and the foatnres came baok to me. She always said that he was an honest man. Don't • tell Lilian, Geoffrey." " No, no ; not a word to her. But if all the worjd knew, it shonld make Do difference to me," ■ '"■• '♦ I know. You are a man of honour? Silvertown. But Brambloby has promised to be silent, and ho will keep his word. Brambleby is a man of honour, too," He was right. Mr Brambleby went back to Ohloago three days later, and the world never knew the real reason why Lord Airedale's daughters were enriched before very long by a legaoy of fifty thousand pounds from a man who named himself, in dying as "one of their mother's oldest friends." But that is tho" true story of Lady Airedale's last visitor.