THE EARL'S ATONEMENT.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXI, Issue 7170, 8 November 1884, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE EARL'S ATONEMENT.

BY BERTHA M. CLAY, ■ thor of " Thrown on the World," " Beyond ■V " Pardon," 4c

CHAPTEB XV.

"BIS tnfZ MUST BE. HAPPY." Sir Vane, enjoying his cigar, was walking ih-ough the beautiful grounds alone. Agatha waß occupied with some pretty fancy-work— something she was making for madame. She had grown warmly attached to madame. She had liked Lady Anne very much, but there was a warmth about the Swiss lady that the rector'B wife lacked. Vane was strolling earelesßly on his favourite promenade—the terrace that overlooked the lake-when he .aw the graceful figure that had attracted hi* attention the night before "Madame's niece again," he thought. "I hope this place is not to be pervaded by he Then be saw her face. She was Bitting on a nuaint old carved seat that stood close.to a marble faun. She had been busy gathering ™«L for madame's rooms, and gat down to «at with the basket of rosea in her hands. Her attitude and pose were of the most perfect grace, but studied to the last degree. She knew that by half tnrning her head the craoeful lines of her neck were seen to greatest advantage; she knew that when her hand lay upon the roses its beauty of colour and ehape could be perfectly seen. She was the true type of the Parisienne beauties; always dressed with the greatest care and elegance; polished, suave, and caressing in manner, with a wor«hip for appearances rarely equalled. She had pondered for some time How she should meet Mr. Heriot; not that she had any idea at that time of seeking to gain his attention. Tne innate instincts of coquetry told her that here was a rich English gentleman, who might be to her a very useful friend : therefore she would do her best to attract his notice and to please him. She was a great believer in making friends, and in making them useful to herself. She had decided, in her own mind, that the most beautiful association a man could have with a woman was through flowers. I! he saw her first gathering or tending to them, he would always for the future associate her with them. So, according to her ovm arrangement, he found j her with the basket of blooming rosea, which seemed to absorb her whole attention. She started as he came in sight; and rising hurriedly, the rosea fell in a crimson ehower to the ground. Could anything have been better, prettier, or more picturesque? She uttered a low, musical cry of diamay, and Sir Vane hurried to her. "That is my fault," he said, raising his hat. "I am sorry I startled you." "lam sorry to have dropped my roses and given trouble," she replied. "Xhey shall soon be back in the basket again," he said, "if you will intrust it to me." "Have I the pleasure," she said, "of speaking to Mr. Heriot ?" He bowed. "I have the pleasure oE addressing the ady known to us lately by the title of • madame's niece. , '' "I am Mademoiselle d'Envers, she re.lied, with stately grace. And Sir Vane bowed again. " I hope," she added, " that I am not insruding on any part of the grounds that are Lppropriated to your use, Mr. Heriot ?" " There can be no question of intrusion," he replied. • And he felt that to meet this beautiful, 'dark-eyed, brilliant girl in the sunlit gardens, would be a pleasant rarity; but not too often. And she read his thoughts with wonderful clearness. "He is wondering whether I shall bore him," shethought—"whether I shallcometoo often, and interfere with the honeymoon tets-a-teles." " Yon are very kind, monsieur," she said, " but I must not avail myselE too often of your kindness. It is strange that this terrace io my favourite spot, and it is also yours." "It is. Bnt I shall not like to think that I have deprived you of the pleasure of frequenting it." - She looked up at him with a frank smile that attracted him irresistibly. "I must watch my opportunities," she said, " and go when monsieur is absent.' , • Hβ laughed, and began to pick np the roses. • "I shall not know how to arrange them aa tastefully as you have done," he said, " but I will give them all to yon." Nothing conld have been more pleasant, she thought, with a smile. And the next few minutes passed happily in the fresh, sunlit air, with the odour of roses all around them. "How handsome and how kind he is!" thought Valerie. "His , wife mnst be happy." She was too adroit to flatter him —she knew that Englishmon looked on flattery with great suspicion—but during that short interview she gave him to understand, with great tact and skill, that she admired him. " I am always so pleased to see fresh faces at Bellefleurs," she said. The chateau is very beautiful, but far too quiet for my taste." " And to mine ; its solitude ia its greatest charm," said Sir Vane. She laughed again, that pleasant frank of hers which Sir Vane liked to hear. "That is because you have brought all your world with you," she said. " A desert would doubtless seem like paradise under similar circumstances. I have no world."

"The loss is the world's, not yours," he retorted, with a bow. "I cap imagine that you find Bellefleura very quie£" "Those who are growing tired of life like my aunt, and those who are looking forward to it like myself, could never be verjfehappy together," she said.

" I suppose not," agreed Sir Vane. His thoughts had wandered to Agatha. She was quick enough to perceive that his interest was failing, and she was too clever to remain after that. She roie from her garden-chair. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Heriot," she eaid, " and good morning."

He watched the graceful walk, the easy carriage, with the same pleasure as ha would have listened to a strain of sweet music. Then he went in search of Agatha. Ah, what rest, what pleasure in her fair presence, what calm and repose! He forgot Valerie, talking to her; and nothing could show how deeply he loved Agatha better than this fact, that he, who had been so great an admirer of beautiful women, did not think twice during the day of the one who determined that she should always be associated in his mind with roses. '

CHAPTER XVI. "an angel akb a coquette."

Valerie D'Envers stood before the large mirror in her room, looking with intent eyes at the face reflected there. It was fair enough surely to charm any man—oval in shape, brilliantly tinted, with large, bright eyes, dark as night. Surely if any face could win admiration, hers could—brilliant, sparkling, piquant. Yet it had not won any of the great prizes of life for her. She was twenty, and thongh she had legions of admirers, no one had yet been over to Madame la Baronne to ask for the honour of her hand. There was an indefinable something abont her that 'startled most men; she was beautiful, polished, and graceful, but there was a foreshadowing of violent passions in her ; one felt instinctively that she could be jealous, envious, and bitter.

" Evidently," she said to herself, as she looked earnestly in the mirror, "I have not made any great impression on the English people : they have not asked to see me." Valerie had.been three days at the chateau, and as yet no invitation had been sent to her, nor had she seen Sir Vane again. He could not have been much impressed with her, never to remember her existenoe. She had puzzled herself over it; but, with her nsual skill, had come to the right conclusion—it waa not so much because he had not admired her as that he was entirely engrossed with his young wife ; and a eharp pang of envy hot through her heart. Why were fates so unequal? Why was fortune so unkind! Why should one girl be idolized by a handsome, rich husband, and another, equally young and beautiful, be passed by ? She went to her mirror, to be quite sure if she were as attractive as she had always imagined herself to be. The answer was certainly a reassuring one ; her face pleased herself— Why should it not please others ? -* She had been much struck duriDg these few days by the, evidence of wealth and luxury shown by these English people— they did not seem: even to understand the ■value of money. If monsieur thought that anything would please his wife, he.ordered . it; - and to Valerie, accustomed to the economical ordering of things, this was ; Wonderful, It added another pang of envy

to that which she felt already. At'" last came the invitation she had been bo long expecting a courteous, kindly little note from Aqaths, asking if madame and mademoiselle would join them in spending an hour or two on the lake. Madame declined, but was most delighted to accept for mademoiselle, who dressed herself with the greatest artistic skill, in colours best suited to her brilliant tints and dark eyes. - Even if the Euglish moneieur had no eyes to admire her with, they might meet friends of his. Valerie had not realised yet the complete solitude in which they lived. For the first time these three, who were so etrongly to influence each other's lives, were together.

The morning was fresh and beautiful, the waters of the lake clear as crystal, the sky without a cloud, the air balmy and odorous with the breath of a hundred flowers—a morning to make even the most miserable happy. Sir Vane looked at the two beautiful women. Agatha's face was bright as with the light of a soul to whom nature was dear, and whose thoughts rose from nature to nature's God; Valerie, with the pleasure that comes from gratified vanity and wellpleased senses. "An angel and a coquette," thought Sir Vane, as they eat side by side in the boat.

It was the most delighbful morning for a row, they agreed, and conversation went on easily enough, bnt it was not of the kind they generally indulged in; they talked generally of the scenery around them, of the waters, and the lonely shores, and of all the thoughts to which such scenes gave rise. Valerie had just returned from Paris, and she had caught the perfect tone of Parinian salons. She could tell them the latest news of the Emperor and Empress. She could retail, in a brilliant fashion all her own, all the court scandal and gossip—what the Emperor had said of the American beauty ; and how the Emperor distinguished certain noble Englishwomen by his attentions ; she knew why this marriage between a Russian duke and a French princess had been broken off; she knew the whole history of the beautiful young duchess whose romantic suioide had filled allParie with gloom. Sir Vace listened at first indifferently, but in a short time he warmed to the subject. It was so long since he had heard this kind of conversation ; all the brilliant bon mots that she repeated, all the witty repartees, the piquant stories, amused him, and made him laugh as he had not done for many long months: What a witty, wicked, brilliant; world this was from which he had shut himself oat! He did not sigh for it, long for, or desire it : but this passing breath of it was sweet to him. He began at last to talk himself with a small animation ; while, for the first time since they had left England, Agatha sat by in silence. Sho did not mind it in the least, she was so pleased to see him happy. The sound of thoir laughter died away on the blue waters ; there was a ring in Sir Vane's roice. How ho enjoyed these stories of men and women whose names sho had no interest for! She fell into her old strain of thoughts, and did not even hear the point of the stories until Sir Vane said to her :

"Agatha, where are your thoughts ?" "On the water," sho replied, laughing. " I may say in this boat." " I am afraid we are monopolising the conversation ; it cannot be very amusiug to you, Agatha." Valerie looked up quickly. "I beg a thousand pardons," she said; "but has not madame been to Paris?"

" Oh, yes; I was ia Paris for some months." "Then you must have known and geen some of these people," said Valerie. Agatha's face flushed. She remembered that daring the whole o£ the time they had been there she had not spoken to a lady. Sir Vane came to the rescue. " Mrs. Heriot was not well or strong juat then," he said, " and we lived very quietly. "We amused ourselves by seeing the finest sights in Paris, but we did not go into society." "Ab," said Valerie, with a long-drawa breath. There was not much in the monosyllable, but Sir Vane felt that he had fallen, socially at least, ia her estimation; hs was a rich Englishman, but evidently he had not the entree of the French court. He heard it in the sound of her voice and saw it in the expression of her face. What wonld she have thought had she known there was no princess ot that imperial court but would have been .proud of the attentions of the .Englishman before her? "That must have been a trial for you," said Valerie, turning to Agatha; "nevor to have seen Paris muse be dreadful, but to have been there and yet not to haTe joined in the most brilliant gaieties in the world must have been a trial." "It was no trial to me," replied Agatha. "1 could never care for such things." " Not for court-balls !" cried Valerie, with astonishment so genuine that Sir Vane and Agatha both laughed. "Not even for court-balls," she replied; " my tastes and desires do not lie in that line atalL" " Mine do," said Valerie, frankly. And then Sir Vane asked if they would like to land and strojl about on the lovely green shore. While he fastened the boat the two ladies went on. Valerie said, suddenly : "Mrs. Heriot, ahould you mind my asking you what name it is you give to your hueband ? It struck me as being very peculiar." She wondered why that flush rose and fell on the gentle face. " What name do you mean?" asked Agatha, wondering if the surname of Carlyon had iu any way come to light. "Your husband's name—the one by whicfa you address him. It is Fane ?" " No, it is Vane," replied Agatha. And Valerie said, musingly : "Vane Heriot—a very English name, is it not ?—and a nice one. ' " It is uncommon," replied Agatha, briefly. She did not quite like to discuss her husband's name with this brilliant stranger. Then Sir Vane overtook them. It seemed quite natural that he should walk between them ? he would make Agatha talk, and show less interest in the Parisian stories. " My wife knows such pretty legends of flowers and trees," he aaid, and Valerie looked up with supreme indifference. "Does she?" ene said, "They all seem to me very mnch alike." Sir Vane laughed. "Just what kings, queens, courtiers, 1 court balls, and society balls are to you, trees and flowers are to her," he said. "She ia easily satisfied," said Valerie, and again he detected the faintest accent of contempt in her voice. It amused him greatly; he understood Valerie bo well; her keen, worldly nature, with its love and appreciation of wealth and luxury, wa3 quite transparent to him. She was the type of woman he had known well and had despised years ago. Yet there was something fresh and piquant about her. Valerie, as the time passed on that morning, became more and more resolved to cultivate these English people, and make great friends of them. She saw that if she wished to please the husband, she must please the wife, and she did what was, under the circumstances, the very wise&t thing she could do—paid far more attention to Agatha than to Sir Vane. Of course he perceived it— equally, of course, he understood the motive. CHAPTER XVII. . *'yod never tell me of youb life," Pour weeks had passed since Valerie D'Envers returned to Bellefleurs, and already there was some trifling change in the place. She had given herself up to the indulgence of two different feelings—one was dislike and bitter jealousy of Agatha, the other great and boundless admiration for her husband.

" How happy such a lot in life would have made me," she said to herself. "Why should she have so much, and I so little ?"

She knew and understood the infinite superiority of Agatha, and became bitterly jealous of her—Sir Vane was so devoted; and even her aunt, she saw, loved Agatha best. Side by side with this feeling grew one worse—an unbounded admiration and reckless liking for Sir Vane, fie waa go handsome, so courtly; she liked the dark, beautiful face and the rich voice, the gentle, caressing manner—Sir Vane was always deferential to women. Of all the men she had met, she liked him first and best. It angered her that he had fallen to the lot of this fair Englishwoman, whose looks differed go entirely from her own., Why could not fortune have reserved him for her, or at least have given her a similar chance?

Agatha, who was as unconscious of her jealousy and envy as she was of her growing liking for Sir Vane's sooiety, liked the brilliant young beauty : and when Sir Vane was reading bis daily papers, or otherwise engaged, the two young girls passed many happy hours together. During these hours Valerie told her whole history to Agatha, described all the friends she had in Paris, all the gayeties of that beautiful Parisian life ; told her of all her admirers, and gave her to

undentand that it was entirely her own ault sne had not made one of these aspirants happy. One day she looked at Agatha, and •aid: ~-■•«. " You never tell me of your life, Mrs. Heriot; but it must have been a very pleasant one." .... Again the warm flush on the beautiful face, and the wild longing that she, too, cbnld have spoken fully of her life, of the old-fashioned village, the grey old cburen, the eastern window, with its fair young saint holding the palm-branch; of the simple people who had loved her so dearly, and who called her "The Angel of the Poor.' She would have liked, in her turn, to have spoken of these things so near and dear to her heart; but her lips were sealed and dumb. "My life has been very quiet," she said. " I lived always with my father in a qniet country home. The only event in it was my love and my marriage." . ' " Very excellent events, too, Mrs. Heriot, laughed Valerie, "for you as well as Mr. Heriot. Love is life." . - " But your own friends and relations —do you never care to speak of them?" and Agatha turned away as she answered : " They live always in my heart." "Aunt," said Valerie, one morning to La Baronne, '* I should not be at all surprised if there were something just a little strange about Mrs Heriot." " Strange ! In what way, Valerie ?" asked madame.

" She does not belong to the same class as her husband, I am sure. Tney have belonged to different worlds before they came here." "I never found this much out," said madame, drily. "I have," said her niece. "I do not pretend to say which was which, but I am sure they- were not equal. It is possible he may have been below her in station, or she may have been below him; but that there was some disparity I feel sure." i Then some little change' appeared. Sir j Vane, who had shrugged his shoulders at his wife's invitations to madame's niece, uaid frequently : j " Let us ask'mademoiselle to go out with | us this evening," or " Mademoiselle Valerie i will go with us on the lake, if you ask her, Agatha. She amuses me." After two years , unswerving constanoy, he felt that he was really entitled to some little reward, and if this brilliant youpg beauty could amuse, please, and flatter him at the same time, why should ahe not ? So it came to' pass that the invitations were more frequent, and at last Valerie spent so j much time with them, they ■wore almost like one family. Sir Vane neverdreamed of a flirtation with her ; it was the last thing that occurred to him. But Valerie was queen of the whole science, and it was impossible always to avoid the plots she laid for him. She had a peculiar faculty for finding out when he was alone ; for meeting him in the garden and grounds when Agatha was absent ; and Sir Vane was never very strong at resisting the advances of a beautiful woman. He met 3miles with smiles, repartee with repartee. IE ahe gathered a flower for him, he once or twice kissed the white hand which held it. Yet, in juutiee to him, it must be s»id that he behaved in the same manner to her when Agatha was present as when she was absent. She had lost nothing of her charm for him. Ineensibly they drifted into a half-sentimental kind of flirtation, which delighted , Valerie, but was the most dangerous and fatal thing which could have happened' to her. Agatha viras too simple and unsuspecting to notice it, although one or two things did seem to her strange. They had arranged one morning to go on the lake ; but when the appointed hour came, Agatha had a headache, and could not go. Sir Vane would at once have given up the idea, but Agatha begged of him aot to disappoint Valerie. And Sir Vane turned to her, with laughter in hie eyes. "It will be a .terrible infringement of the laws of etiquette, if I do persuade you to (jo, mademoiselle," he eaid. " "I am quite ready to infringe them," she replied; " indeed. I should enjoy it." " Then we will go," he saii And, to him, the idea of rowing this brilliant beauty on the lake was by no means displeasing. Once out on the clear blue waters, she turned to him. "Hove the lake," she said, "and I was afraid you were going to disappoint me after all." " Why need you have thought that ? he asked. " You seem to have such notions of etiquette and propriety. I do think English people are so—" "So what?" he asked, seeing that she paueed and laughed. "So stupid," she replied, "and so narrow in their ideas.""I can bear that, and more, from you,"he replied. And then she became her most brilliant self; she talked to him and amused him, until he was really attracted by her ready wit and brilliancy. She took a sudden and pretty caprice for leaning to row, and her little hands flashed so white and fair with their shining jewels, he could not help admiring them ; and while giving her tne art of rowing, what was more natural than that he should hold those pretty hands in his. She grew more beautiful and more brilliant as he grew more demonstrative ia his admiration. '' I have enjoyed that hour," she said. '' I am almost sorry that we most go back. Will Mrs. Heriot think you too long ?" " I hope not," he replied, suddenly growing serious. "I should be very sorry if ahe missed me."

"You spoil your wife, Mr. Heriot. She will always expect the same amount of attention from you." He looked at her in wonder. "She will always receive it," he said, quietlv. ' And Valerie laughed to hide her confusion,

CHAPTER XVHI. THE MARKED HANDKERCHIEF.

There were times when Sir Vane looked at his young wife and wondered whether it was possible to excite the feeling of jealousy within her. Not that he wished to do so ; it was aimply curiosity to know whether one so perfect, so seemingly far above all the meaner passions of earth, could feel as other people did. He would have been pleased to know that Agatha was just a little jealous ; he would have liked those white, tender arms laid round his neck, a faint gleam of reproach in the violet eyes, and a sweet voice to whisper, "Did he really love her beet." That was the kind of thing that he understood and was accustomed to.

If Agatha had been inclined to jealouey she had plenty of cause. The time had been when Vane had shrugged his shonlders. at the mention of madarpe's niece, and lamented that their solitude was broken ; but now it was quite a, different matter ; ho seemed to look with eager longing for her. "Ask Valerie to go with ua," were the words constantly on his lipe, and Agatha never once hesitated.

It was natural, she said to herself, that he should like someone who could talk to him about hia own world, of which she knew nothing. Sir Vane never meant to hurt her. When they were all three out together, it often happened that Valerie, laughing and jesting, walked with him, while Agatha went on alone. Then suddenly hie heart would be touched, and he would say : " Darling, why are you alone ? Come with me." And it struck him with wonder that she always turned to him a face as sweet and bright as a loving face could be. It would have been better for them all had she looked just a little more keenly after her own interests ; for Valerie, day by day, disliked her and liked her husband more and more.

There came a day at the end of the beautiful summer, when the lovely air was faint with perfume, that they arranged to go to Lucerne together. Sir Vane was ready first, ana waiting for the ladies in the drive. ' Madame could not go; she was only too well pleased that her niece should have the opportunities offered to her. She seldom, if ever, accepted an invitation for hersolf.

Valerie, walking slowly down the drive, saw Sir Vane put his hand into the pocket of his coat—a coat that was either too small, or the pocket was too full, for a white handkerchief fell out and flattered to the ground. She took it up, and her attention waa at once attracted by a mark in'the corner. She looked at it long and curiously. There was a crest, half worn away, and underneath, the letters "V. H. C."

She repeated them over arid over again— " V.H.C."—they were no this initials ; they would have been simply " V.H." Still, it was strange that thdy should be identically the same with his, with' the addition of another letter—"V.H.C." She tried to make out the orest, or mark, but cocld not, and the faint idea that she had been right in suspecting a mystery came to her. " I will see what he says when I give it to him," she thought, and she arranged it in

such a fashion that the letters were the first thing on which his eyes must fall. : " Mr. Heriot," she said, suddenly holding it out to him, "is this yours." ._ . > . He looked to see what it was, and, as ahe anticipated, he saw the initials at once.: She looked straight into his face.. No passing expression could escape her; and she saw distinctly, when his eyes fell on the three letters, hie colour change.

■ "Iβ it yours?" she said, looking at him with great, innocent eyes. . "I hardly know," he replied, with some hesitation. '

" The initials are right," ahe said,' laughingly; " but there is a"' C added to them, which is not yours ; yet I saw it fall from your hand."

• "It has been put with my things by mistake," he said, but Valerie saw that alt was not quite as it should be. Sir Vane little dreamed, as he talked to her, and amused himself with her brilliancy, that she was trying to penetrate the dearest and nearest secrets of his heart. A few days afterward they were driven over to see some fine ruins, and as usual Sir Vane suggested to Agatha that Valerie should'go with them, but she declined. She had quite made up her mind that the next time they went out she would look through their rooms, and try and find out if there was any repetition of these mysterious initials; so while madame took her usual siesta, and the servants were all bu&ily engaged, she went quietly to the suite of rooms occupied by Sir Vane. She was a lady by birth, and had all the instincts of good breeding. - Her face flushed hotly when ahe found herself in those rooms.

- "All is fair in love and war," she said to herself. " I know that which lam doing is mean-^false—bad; but it is the only way in which I can discover the mystery, and I am quite justified in adopting it. ' She did not remember that in no potaible way could the myetery concern her. There was a lingering hope always in her heart that something or other—she cared not what— would arise that should part husband and wife, and that she herself should take Agatha's place. -"lama thousand times better suited to him. He likes brilliancy as much as he likes beauty, and that fair piece of perfection has none," was her constant thought. She had hardly admitted even to- herself that she should like to see them parted, .but it was exasperating to see so much love and devotion lavished on one, while there was none for her. '

Since the arrival of her lodgers at the chateau, madam had never entered the part of the house reserved for them exaept once or twice by special invitation. A certain number of servants had been left in charge of it, and madame knew that all was well. Valerie said to herself that even if all the servants came in a body it would not matter. She had but to say thad madame had desired her to inspect the rooms —no one could offer and objection to that. There was no prying eyes or curious lady's maid to interrupt her.

She was struck with the amount of luxury displayed in thoao dressing-rooms. No want of money here, she was quite sure. The first thing that attraoted her attention was a magnificent dressing-case mounted in silver ; and here again, on the richly-chased bottles, on the ivory-backed hair brushes, on almost every article of value belonging to him, she saw the same initials, "V. H. C." She found many of his things marked with a crest; and she admired very much a crown supporting an olive-branoh. '•No modern crest, that," thought Valerie to herself.

Then on the toilet-table lay a book that seemed to be well used—" Keble's Christian Year," and here, to her groat; delight, she found the ooat-of-arms—an eagle, supported on either side on lions rampant.

" A warlike honae J" she thought. " And now, if I have any wit at all, I shall find out who he is. The initials are 'V. H.C.,' the crest a crown and olive-branch, coat-of-arms and eagle supported by two lions ; motto, aa written here, 'TruthConquers— Vincil Veritas." If, with all these landmarks, I cannot make my way, I am dull of wit, and deserve to lose the game."

Sir Vane's bozea and drawers containing private papers were locked; the locks were patent, and ho carried the keys with him, or Valerie would soon have found out who he' was and all about him. ' -

"I will send to London for 'Debrett's Peerage, , "she aaid to herself; "and then, if these initials and arms are his, I shall know all about him."' """

She went into Agatha's dressing-room. There was a magnificent dreasing-case, far more coatly than Sir Yane's ; there were articles of luxury such as she had seldom seen— all presents given to Agatha by Sir Vane— the most exquisite and beautiful toilet appointments ; but on no one single thing were there either marks or initials. "Just as I thought," she said to herself, with a triumphant smile. "No name, no crest, no coat-of-arma here. Ah, Mrs. Heriot, you may be very fair, and yon are very sweet, but why do you not share your husband's crest and motto ? There is something to find out, and, as sure as I live, I shall find it out." : She searched through everything. On one collar she found marked, in red cotton, the two letters, "A. B." " I will remember them," she said to hereelf. " 'A. B. , —it may be Agatha Blythe, or Berdoe ; there are many, names beginning with'B.'" , She was better rewarded for her. trouble when among some books she found a copy of the oratorio of Sampson. A name had been carefully erased—so carefully that, with all the skill in the world, she could not make it out; but she did make oat the word " Whitecroft." " Whitecroft!" she mused ; " that is the very name for a country village. I shall remember it." And long before Sir Vane and Agatha returned, she had collected information enough to help her in making out a far more intricate history than theirs. [To be continued].