Our Novelettes.

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 1502, 24 October 1885, Page 4

Our Novelettes.

THE LADY-HELP. Half dazed and stupified with gripf, I feel his arms reluctantly lo j e their hold of me; T hear the fliek of a "whip, and the grinding of wheels on the gravel; I see dimly. through a rni9t of tears, a beloved face looking back at me, a ban 1 sending kisses across the summer air to me, an! then the trees hide everything from my sight, and I am alone.

Utterly miserab'e and n'arlv heart-broken, I re-enter the house and indulge in a passion of vvoe, until I hive not another tear left ro shed. Then, as the violence of my grief begins to abate, 1 suddenly remember that Miss Herriot is coming—a fact which I bad completely forgotten—and that there had not been an attempt made to get her room ready. Slowly, and with much ado, I try to collect my scattered wits sufficiently to go through my business in the house. Wearily and m >st unwillingly I g'l through one task another, with lazy, lagging footsteps, while the hours drag themselves slowly along, until it is within half an hour of the time when I may expect to see the lady-help arrive. So T go to my room, and, by dint of a great deal of hot water, I manage to restore to my unfortunate features something of their usnal seienity; but I have ill-used them too much tc hope to get back any of the few good looks I mav lay claim to. My eyes and cheeks are still swollen, although they have lost a goo i deil of that tint that has so enhanced their beauty all day, and my mouth shows a disposition to tremble at the corners; but by degrees I commence to feel a little more cheerful, and by-and-by I try to persuade myself ihit there is no reason on earth why I should not rather a pleasant evening after all; and I make up my mind that I really will enjoy my9elf —which brave and wise resolution I immediately inaugurate by taking one of Jack's photographs from a l.is-ing it, and breaking into a torrent of tears over it, which serves to ruin my appearance for the remainder of the day. I am just drying my ey. s, and resolving that another tear I will nit shed, while fain on the very brink of a second breakdown, when I hear the grinding of wheels under my window. I peep out, while endeavouring to compose uiy features into something like their natural exp essiou, and I see the lady-help throw off the rugs wh eh, though it is nearly the mi Idle of sumnvr, she has wrapped across her. She is dressed in black silk T her lustreless gold hair is brushed back from her face, and bound up in a loo.'e knot behind. As she is alighting, I appear in the doorway, and off r her my hand. We get the flyman to carry her trunks up to her room, and when he is gone we go into tl'O drawing-room, and 1 stare helplessly at he', and find nothing to say, which is" a mo-t unusual occurrence with me, as generally lam garrulous enough. She be- j gins in ft friendly, unembarrassed »vay, when j sue has taken stock ot me.

•' What a young little thing you are to be i married, and have a house to look after!" " Uo you think so?" I say, while a feeling of pride comes over me. " But I am njt so young as you think, I dare say; I am! withiii a couple of months of twenty. " Are you really ?" she returns, not looking ; as much linprtssad as she ought. " And how 1 loug have you been msrried, pray ?" "Oil, a long time!" I say, not answering ; her question directly. " But would you not like to come to your ro )m ? ' She goes and returns 111 a few minutes, and 1 insists on entering upon her duties at once. | Bv tea-time s'ie is a* much at home as if . she had been with me for years, tine takes | the whole management ol the place entirely into her own hands at once, and treats mj altogether as if she were mistress, and i a sort of child that cannot be trusted to do anything out of her sight. Instead of my apportioning her her share of work, it is she who appuints those particular tasks to mo which she thinks I am likely to bungle a' least. She orders me about in a frieud.y, affectionate sort of way that it is impossible to resent; but it is a source of infinite relief to me to have the whole care and responsibility lifted from my shoulders on to hers. That she is a perfect treasure as regards housekeeping, I see at once, lhat Mrs Brownrigg's lady-help, in comparison with mine, is nowhere, I feel with a pang ot malicious j >y. That Jack will never again offer an opinion on donatio arrangements contrary to mine, I am perfectly assured. So we set to to get the house into exquisite order, and t work so hard and so get back my gooi spirits that by evening I am abla to look bacK on Jack s departure without tue glimmer of a tear; and 1 look forward to his return with an irrepressible gladness, as Ilthmkof how much improved tie will find me. We get on capitilly together, the lady-he.p and I; we are more like two sisters than anything else. Tnree or four days atter her arrival we are sitting at tea, in the breaKlast-room, and chatting volubly, or, rather I am, for, truth to tell, she never has much to say. She is sitting opposite to me, pouring out the tea. As usual, I have become inimitably diffuse on the theme ot my absent husoand. Huherto I have always mentioned him to her us either " Air liuddart" or " my husband," This evening, for the first time, 1 call him by his Christian name. " Of course," I say, cutting up the currant c ike, " it is hardly to be expected that you can believe every word uttered 3y a young married woman ; but indeed Miss Herriott, he is as handsome a man as you are a woman." "Is he dear?'' she questions, raising her sweet sad eyes, while a sort of half-smile Hits across her face. "Ah, wait till you see Jack!" I respond, oracularly. "Jack did you say?" she cries starting, and letting the sug ir-tongs fall, while a sudden terror darts into her face, aud robs her cheeks of their lovely colour. " Jack Huddart— Jack Huddart 1 Ah me, what are you s lying ?" "Did you know him P" I cry, excitedly. " Is it possible that you are u Iriend of his, and that I have never heard of it ?" " My child, in all probability your husband never heard of me in his life. I had onee a friend of the same name; but your Jack is alive —mine is dead " As she speak*, two great tears rolls down her cheeks and fall in o her lap. I am full ol curiosity ; but some inward conviction that 1 am trespassing on the borders of a great sorrow withholds me from questioning her further, as I am longiug to do. Full of my own sweet love dreain, young, and with an insatiable love of romance, I come to the conclusion that this other Jack, whoever he was, was her lover, and that he has been the cause of the Bhalow of great indescribable sa lness which never dies out of her face for one instant. We finish our meal in silence, and we do not again refer to the subject of her dead lover. She never by any chance mentions anything of her former life; and, as the days pass, a great change comes over her, and she becomes more silent and reserved than ever. At times she sits for hours together at the open window, looking out, but, as I can tell by the far-away weary look in her eyes, Beeing nothing of what U before her. She is kinder, more affectionate and painstaking with me,

though sometimes I wonder I do n<»t drive her to the of madness by my wretched stupidity; any o;e less patient would have given me up 1 >ng bef -re. When she had been with me about.thro* weeks, there comes a das- tliat, with an overwhelming and horrible suddenness drags me from the sweet el I .siutu of bliss which I have live ! In since Jack made me his wife.

It is evening. Miss Herriot has gone to the post with some letters, and, having occasion to go to her room with a can of water, I catch sight of a photograph lying face downwards on the little writing-tablo in the window.

Prompted by ctirnsi y, I take it up into my hand, and turn'it over. It is my husband's ! And in his handwriting on the b ick I find these word"—'From Jack to Ins darling little Minnie, June 2nd, 187—,'' a date of about ten days before! I let it fall, and with a great gasping sob throw myself into a chair I sit for aw' ile—l don't know how long—in awful, tearless agony trying to think what 'his terriMe thing is that has overtaken me The first thing that takes pos-e.-ion of mv mind, when I collect my senses sufficiently to put two and two together, is tlia' Ja -k is a traitor, that the lady-help is another, and that I am the betraved.

That my Jack and her Jack are the same, and that she deliberately lied to me that evening when she lei me to beli ve the contrary, I have no m inner of doubt. Wild and insane thoughts of what I shall do and what I shall say course through mv hruin in rapid succession and mad haste. Fir-t, the lady-help must leave the house this v rv night. Of course she knew where and to whom 9he was comi ig when she accepted my engagement, and di t it. with th 1 deliberate intent nil of winning back my husband to herself, and doing giod es-< knows what to me! A.nd what chance had I, with my poor plain face and avkward wavs, again-t her, with her matehless grace and—now, to mo—vile beauty ? Then a great dmbt cami over me, and I begin to think that perhap-, after all, Jack is not in league with her, and I start up, determined to find out, if I cm, s >mething more. The wr ting-table is Iirter *d with letters—some torn up, others half written. I t >ss them over, not knowing what 1 expect to find. I open the blottu'g-b >ok, and, in a pocket at the back, my search is rewarded. I find an envelope, addressed in M ss Herri it's own handwriting, to herself, and draw out a letter which has been torn acoss, the hdf in ray hand s j em ng to have been retained for the sake of the ad ire-s a f the t*p. The wri'ing is Jack's, and the address i« Ja.'k's ; it commences— I

"My dear darling Minnie, —I have just this instant received mv duly buig-t fro n my little wife. ilow lutle she guesses the surprise in store " ll're it is torn acro j s ; bit what- I have s*en i-< quite en nigh. Here is evidence beyond the .-halo v of a doubt that these two are carrying 011 a sham iful y wick.-d corr.'spondence utiler my very nose As I ro place the enveiope, I recall, with a sharp sting of pain, the number of letters that hive >• );ne for this wom- n, all di-ected by h-rself, and which never struck me as being anything peculiar or out of the way ; and th n I remember how, one evening not long before, I came upon her s:a idmg in my dressing-room in frmt of a picture of Jack's that hangs over the c limney-piece, gaziig at it with wil I, frigli ened ey -s, h'r face blanched to the woitene-sof death, and her han Is bait' rased at:

id tightly clutched together iti from of her, and how I, in my young love and adoratini, took it at the time as being only extreme surprise at the unusual beuity of his fare. Alas, I know now, bur too well th it it was very lur removed from beint? anything of th ■ kind! What I have never givou a i bought to comes back to me now with a hor.ibie distinctness.

As nearly 'is I can remember, I arrange the things oa the table as they were before I disturbed them, and begin to th nk in a duil, vague s irt of way th.it I will wait till Jack comes b ick to let 'hem know I have disoovrre i their s cret. Of course I cannot remain wirn him ; if I do not turn rmself out, she or he will do it for m-'. But why, oh, why, in Heaven's name, did he make suc'i a fool of me? For the life ot me I cannot recall anything I have ever done to him that he ohouid take s tch a biner revenge on me. If tie loves her, what did he marry me for, and why did he let her come k 're P

Then I (in 1 myself thinking that perhaps Jack does not m j an to come back at ail—tuat the telegram w.iich called him away wus Only a blind—i hat he >s gme 10 tret rea iy aho lie lor her—that th?y will offjr me money to keep me quiet, and will go au I get tu ir> ie t un.ier a false name und live somewheie ou the Continent.

1 am beginning to lose my senses when I hear Mis* Minnie Her.'iot s dout),e«K iuck at the door. I start, up and throw a sheet >f piper over the photograph that she may not think I have seen it, and, wi h a sharp, achmg pain at my heart, I go down and let, her in. 6he notioes mv appearance at once, and, wiien we aro in the drawing-room, takes my miserable whire face between her hauds and and scrutinies it closely.

My dear Mrs ilud iart," she says, with a look of friendly commis ration, '• what is the mvtter with you? You look as if you had seen a ghost." "Ha, ha! Perhaps I hive," I answer, with a hard, mirthless laugh ; '• but ir is only the heat. I assure you olfering the first excuse that presents itself—" it makes me quite ill sometimes." " Does it ? But we hare had hotter days, and I hare never seen you li«e th s." " I have such a terrible headache—l can't bear pain of any kind und it h 8 quite knocked me u 1 answer, extrijj,tmg my visage from between her hands. " foor little thing!" ehe says, compas-ion ately. "You have been w;rmng too hard j but you will be all right when \ou have had a good cup of tea. Lie down here on the couch while I tjet it reaiy." She insis's on my jo doing, and leaves ma, assuring me that 1 shall be netter presently Better! Shall I ever be better till I am dead ?

I try to think of the future as it will b without Jaekj and a wild, indescribable lousrinj to look on his face once more and oi ■ takes of me. But that ig not be. No doubt I shall lve inv sorrow down, as many another wretched woman has done be«, fore me ; I shall grow to a go ;d old age, for have I not come of an unusually longiived and healthy stock? Ani the thought of 'hlength of years tnat Bir-.-tch.*B before me is worse th-in death itself. So the days dr*g out tlWr weary length, and we go on just the sume as usual. I get my dnily letter from Jack, and she ee f s one nearly as often. His business will keep httn a fortnight longer than heat first thought, and so I have fourteen days more in which to break my he irt. I do my best to keep up appearances before the lady-help, but 1 cannot bring buck the roes and roundness to mv cheeks, or the brightn- g-t to my eyes. She suspects nothing} she takes my word for its being t'te weather, and b 'lieves that I shall be all right when my hnsband cornea back I am very quiet always; I never cr , nor rave, nor tear my hair, nor go into hysterica, though in such weaknesses I was very wont to indulge under *ny mitfortuot io mj |iil*

hood. Bu 1 " nowit teams as if the magnitude of my affliction weighs me down to the earth, and leaves me no to cry out. I often wi-h I could; I think it would relieve me somewhat if 1 eou'd indulge in one of those torrents of trirs tha e usjcl to flow 80 readi'y on the smallest prowat : on. I go about, my work in a dear], listless way, that must be infinitely trying to the laly-help, and I never mention ray husband's name in her presence, f could not bear to bear her talk of him, as I imagine she would, with malicious exulta'ion ; she h is taken him away from me, and, when I think of her as compared with rre, I lind i' bard to blame hi n. I ask my s If a hundred times a day wh it object he can have ha I in marrying me, and fail to And an answer.

And so the time goes on, and the day ol Jack's return is oome. audit finds me only a shadow of the girl I was when he went away.

A sense of exulta'ion comes over me a* T so-in in the glass the p 0" little thin figure whose proportions were so round and pump but a mouth a-jo I look gladly at the wrink es and creases in my dres*. which then fitted me like me a glove, and I wonder if my altered ■ ppearan.'e wdl strike anything like remorse into his false treaeherons heart.

He has not specified the hour we may expect him, but he will be here late in the afternoon. A : ter luncheon I set out for a stroll, and leive Miss Herri >t to get the diuner re*iiy. I want to get my wi s into order, for Jack must know tuis very night that I have d s wvered their pcandalous secret-

I pace the dusty lanes and wand r far fron home, and after ttiree hours re'urn, hot and dusty an i tired to death. I come in hy the back gate, thrush the garden, and round by the b ick of the hou.»e. Ia n close hv the drawing-room windows, when I stop suldeuh, and my heart, commences to r eit wilily. I hear a gay. ringing lau,h come out to me on the summer air ; a man's voice is talking fust and eagerly, and I know that my husband has come baek, and that doubtless he aud his love are having a pleasant time of it.

Impelled by an irrepressible curiosity, I advance a little nearer, and get behind the laurel-tree that is cl se to the open casement. I twist and crane and my ne,k to ca eh a g itnpse ol tlteoi, a id through th • flat green spra\s of tii© evergreen 1 se ■ (hem stmding, sue with her wonuvus 'jes raise 1 to his lace and her clasped iian s I\ing against his breast, he with his hands o her si.oulders, looking down into her upturned face with, oh, such a world ol love in insane*!

For a moment or two so they remain, and then he stoops and kisses her on the lips, once, twiee, three tunes! The cup of my bittern- 8s is full. A dea liy faintness is coining over me—l am going to fall; with a despir.ite tfforc I shake it, off as L he*r Jack's voice, distinct alid clear, speai again. '• I think, Minnie dear, we ought to tell Nell to-day," he says; "I have never spoken of you to her, and sae does notkuow that such a person exists."

" On, Jack, d m't 1" returns the vile woman. "What i< tne use of troubling her innocent lieart with sue i a story ? It is ne'ter for me to go as I came, and mike some excuse or other."

" Yon shall never leave me again, my poor iM-used darling!" he answers, passing his arm round her shoulder.

" i'h 'ii in tlut case we m*y as well tell her," she says, nestling her golden head on his breast.

Goaled almo-t to mainess by their shameful conduct, 1 spring from my hiding-place and conlront them just as they are stepping through the window on to the lawn

" You cjn save yomsjif th-3 trouble," I cry, in a strange na sh voice, "fori know everything abou you!" something iu the wi d misery of my eyes and the haggard appearance I present altogether seems to strike cmvioaon into their h arts. All the laughter dies out of Jack's lace as he stretcues out his arms towards me, but, by a rapid movement, I elude him, and then everything seems to whirl a 1 a ouud me, there is aienihie siuging iu my the ught of day seems to jo out, and I lall heaviiy up mi the grass at their f<*et belore eimer has time to stretoh out a hand to save me. # * • # t I think she will do now. She has not been very wed lately, and I had no idea sue was bo weak. " she is fearfully changed—l wish you had let me know, dear." I open m; eyes slowly. Lan lying on a couch in the drawing room Jack is silting on a low cnair oeside me, witu ou ■ arm u ider my head. He is gently batui >g my fore lead with a haudive cnief dreuoned in eiu-d>* Cologne i diuuie Herrioc is k.idling at tue other side, launing me. For a few mo nents I forget what has h >pp< n d to me, aud wonder who I am j then wiih un overwhelming mightiness, the na'eiul iucideuu of ihe past month cnue crowding luo my weary brain. I nuke an eff irt to rue, 1 am gouily forc.d back by my husband. " You are not to stir yet," says Miss Herrioi, changing ihe tan from her rigut baud to her left. "My darling little Nell, are you not glad to i-ee me ? ' tasks my husband, stoopiug over and kissing me. '• I don't know," I answer, drearily, turning my head away. " What does site mean?" siys the ladyhelp, stopping short in her labjur oi love.

«' fools!" I cry, suddenly starting up. ''Do J ,nl think you have cr.ied on your villanv under my very nose without my finding it, out? VVuut a senseless ii tie idiot you mu t take me ,or » if y° u (io! " At this outburst my huscand, aghast, looks across at 1S There is certainly , o .ijn of confusion, or the burni ig fhaina 1 had pi'tured to uiyrelf as overtaking httn when he should tL id himself discovered ; 1 h re' s oa'y a ke»ui surprise, a silent ques liomng i li S iiJ > dS wan lerß r ' ,m Ulc t • Ijpp r (in her to me. Then comes a dawning of t'he truth, a suspicious twitcuing of his long tn uista 'be, a hearty burst of tauguter, aud lie throws "i j tvfo arm ' r ' 1,10 cliches me to his heart, *"d covers my face with kisses. When lie has subj -cted ine to this treatment for quite ten minutes, while I am too bordered to resist, he holds me away from him and 100 s at me j and then, iu a voice ha f-i hoked with la filter as he no fs across at vliss Her ijt, whicu brings her to his side, he says

" Mrs John Huddart, allow me to introduce vou to your husband# sister, Miss Minnie Huddart, not Harriot No doubt she is a swindler, and very dishonest in coming toanv respectable person's bouse under lalse colours ; but as she is a relative I don't very well see how you can prosecute her." It is now my turn to look aghast from one 'O the other. Am I dreaming ? In mercy s name, is this hideou* phantom that has never left me night or day no hing after all P Have I been vile enough to harbour such outrageous thoughts all these weeks without any cause ? I (To hi cotUimi,)