PUT ASUNDER.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXII, Issue 7341, 30 May 1885, Page 3 (Supplement)

PUT ASUNDER.

BY BERTHA M. CLAY, Author ot "Thrown on the Worid," "Beyond Par don," " The Earl'a Atonement," &c.

CHAPTER XVIII. "I DECLINE J"

A bright April day, and all fashionable London io astir. Lcvely spring smiles over the land ; the buds tse forming on the trees ; the tender grasa is springing; the sweetsmelling violets hide themselves, though they spread their fragrance through the air. There is something in the air keen and bracing, yet sweet. . In the park one seems to inhale the perfume of the springing buds. The world of fashion is all astir ; the season is one of the gayest ever known. Fashionable London is thronged, and the tide of gaiety flows on unceasingly. A great number of the best families in England are in town ; but there is no circle more exclusive, no house more select than that of Lord and Lady Castlemsine. They give the best balls, th%best dinners, the most rteherche little suppers after the opera, the best and most amusing "at homes" in town. Neath House was considered that season the best in the metropolis. Perhaps its greatest attraction lay in the marvellous beauty of the two ladies—Lady Castlemaine, the hostess, and her friend, Isabel Hyde, who was staying with her. The two loveliest women in London, and it seemed arrange that they should be under one roof; but Lady Cresson had another niece to bring out this ie&son, and Isabel Hyde would have been compelled to remain in the country but for the earnest and pressing invitation of Lady Castlemaine.

Both rivals were even more lovely than last year. Happy love had given more brightness to the fair face of Lady C».stlemaine; the fi,ce of Isabel Hyde took deeper beauty from her passionate love. There comes »time in the Uvea of all men and women when they cease 1;o wesr a mask, even to themselves—when they look at their own crimes, sirs, and temptations straight in the face, and call them by their right names. Thj.t time had come to Isabel Hyde. She made no more moral pretences even to herself. She looked her sin boldly in the face, and went on with it.

Lord Castlemaine had married another instead of marrying her, and she intended to have revenge on him and on that other. "Constant dropping wears away a stone ;" and shs, by her constant intrigues, her innuendoes, had impaired in some measure the happy love that had existed between husband and wife. She was the wisest of all traitors, for she never said one word that, if repeated, could compromise her, could be proved untrue ; or which, if brought horns to her, could do her the least harm. She could plant the sharpest dagger in the heart of Lord Castlemaine, yet, if he were asked afterward, ha could not tell even what words she had used. She could make Lady Ciistlemaine wince again and again, yet her wards never left behind them the faintest impression of unkindness. She was beginning to make.progress; she could see her way more clearly; and she worked with the patient assiduity of a demon tempting a human soul. Already she had made Gertrude believe that her husband looked down on her family, that he considered his own infinitely superior; that, although he never expressed it in words, still, in his own heart and mind this want of antiquity in her family was the one thing that lived in his mind against her. She had most firmly impressed that on Lady Castlemaine; yet, if anyone had asked that lady how those ideas had come to her, why she believed them, she could not have told, so gently, so imperceptibly had she been led up to them. Isabel had impressed on Lord Castlemaine the idea that his wife rebelled against hia pride, and did all in her power to defeat it, to show him that she cared little for the " divine right," whether it was in the case of king or peer. She had managed to draw a clearly defined line between them, and Blither could have told how it was done.

She bad managed also, without in the least degree alarming him, to impress upon Lord Castlemaine'e mind the fact of her own great devotion to him, of her care for his interests, of the high value she placed on his friendship. There was nothing of love, nothing of flirtation ; but Lori Caatlemaine did honestly believe that no man in the world had a more true or more devoted friend than he had found in Isabel Hyde. Her flattery was of that subtle kind, so aweet, so intoxicating, yet so delicate it could hardly be perceived. She smiled to herself as she said : " 1 have the ear of the house ; now I can manage both." ■ She had succeed*! so far on he? evil miesicp that husband and wife both indulged in small quarrels before her. If they had been alone, those quarrels] iirculcl have baen over at once, and a kiss weald have followed tkem. As she was present, and her interest seemed so equally divided, neither cared to jrive in. Then when she was alone with either, a few subtle but perfectly safe words would anger one still more greatly against the other. , ■ One morning, during luncheon, husband and wife had some few words ; they did not pass the bounds of good-breeding, but they were vexed and irritated against each other. Isabel was secretly careful to increase that vexation. When night came on, and Lord Castlemaine, feeling annoyed with himself, went to make peace with his wife, he found her, for the first time, with a sullen frown on her beautijul face. - " Gertrude," he said, "I am sorry I spoke io sharply. Kiss me and let us be friends.' But the beautiful lips were not, as usual, rained to his; she did not turn to him, or answer him by kiss or by loving words ; she cat quite still without moving, and amall as this incident was, it was the beginning of the end. "Gertrude, darling," he said, "do you hear me! I want to kiee you and be friends." , . , "It is no use," she replied; "ifl am friends with you, as yon call it, one hour, we shall quarrel the next. "But," he answered, "If we never make friends, we shall always be quarrelling, and we should neither o! tie like that." "lam not so sure," said Lady Castlemaine "It seems to me thai; you enjoy quarrelling; you loved me so much once upon a tinie, that you could not have one word with me." • , "I love you just as much now, but perhaps a little more sensibly," he replied, " Then I prefer the foolish love, retorted Lady Castlemairis, ■ " I do not," c»id her huubsnd. «' The face is," continued Lady Castlemaine, " you ought to have married someone with all the blood of the Howards in her veins. My father God bless him !—was but a city knight. The truth is, I was not good enough for you." "Oh, Gertrude," He cried, "how cruel you are! How can you say such things to me ? —I, who worship you so." "You worship ancient ancestry a great deal more," she said. "I do not, I could not. What makes you Bay such unkind things to me, Gertrude '!" She could not tell hint; she hardly knew herself, She was not even conscious that it was the slowly distilled and carefully uttered words of Isabel flydo that had impressed this belief upon her. "Gertrude," he said, slowly, "I see a change in you." "If your eyes were a, little clearer and a little keener, you would see a far greater change in yourself," she retorted. "My dear, you have no need to be sarcastic with me," he said, gravely. Once more; will you kiss me and make friends ?' "Never while you speak to me in that "Lord of Burleigh' fashion," she replied, " You should have married the daughter of a ducheFa."' "My o.ear," he said, quietly, "I married the only woman in the world whom I loved, and that was yourself." " You remind me of an anecdote I read the other day of a nobleman," she continued. " I forget even the name ; but he was proud even to implacability, and one day, in order to draw hie attention, his wife placed her hand on his shoulder.

"'Madam,' he said, haughtily, 'my first wife was a peeress, and she never took such a liberty us that.' You are just like that man, Rudolph, whose name I forget." "I do not think I am in the least degree like him. How can you say such cruel things to me?"

" They are not cruel; they are only true," retorted Lady Castlemaine. " Why, Gertrude," cried her husband, " I sever saw you ao cress before. I can hardly believe that it is yotr.'" . . " I have no great rcasoa to rejoice that I »m myself," she said. "If you are disappointed in me, so am I hn yon. " But, Gertrude, darling, I am not disappointed in yon," he said; and there was f9»ething of grieved ainnoyance in his face.

Who could eay so ? How could you dream of euch a thing ? Have I not always loved you better than anyone or anything ?" " I know you have said so," she answered, with a darkening frown on her beautiful face ; " but I *au see how it is. You are infatuated over the claims of high descent, and you look down upon me because I am the daughter of a city knight. I can see it in » thousand different ways." " You cannot see it in one," he replied. ' You have grieved and distressed me greatly, Gertrude."

" You have done the same to me," she said.

He was silent for a few minntes, thinking to himealf that he hr.d never seen his young wife so angry. Then he went up to her frankly, and held out his hand to her.

" If it really be my fault," he said, "I am very sorry. Kiss and be friends, Gertrude." _ "I decline," she answered, proudly ; and rising with stately grace, beautiful Lady Castlemaine quitted the room. She had gratified her pride, but she was not quite easy in her mind. After all, why had she quarrelled with her husband, and why had she refused to be friends 1 She did not know the answer to the question, or eke would have said that Isabel Hyde had slowly poisoned her mind and distorted her ideae.

CHAPTER XIX. THE THIS EDGE OV THE WEDGB.

They are grand old words that say " Let not the sun go down upon your wrath," and this would bo a very different place if people acted more upon them. Nothing can be more fatal to love and happiness than letting a quarrel pass over and die of itself. Words of peace and pardon should always be spoken. The next time Lady Castlemaine met her husband, which was in the breakfast-room, he gave her the usual greeting. She answered him coldly : " Good-morning."

Lord Castlemaine fell; annoyed. "She will speak first herself next time," he said. "I do not deserve it.' . And it is of such trifles as these that half the quarrels in the world are made. The next time they met, which was in their own drawing-rocai, where several visitors were, they did not speak >\t all, and Isabel Hyde saw it with unspeakable joy. She did not kc-ow exactly what had gone wrong, bat she saw that between husband and wife some shadow had fallen, some difficulty had arisen. She might fan it, she might increase it. When Lady Castlemaine and she took their usual cup of tea in the boudoir, Isabel broached the subject carefully. " Is Lord Castlemaine well ?" she asked. " Yes, I believe so," was the answer.

" Then he is not in his usual good humour. I thought this afternoon that he looked unusually dull or gloomy, or out of spirits." "He was merely cross," said Lady Castlemaine, half scornfully. The worst thing that any young wife can do is to make a confidante of anyone against her husband. The faults of a husband should be sacred, should not be spoken off. A quarrel, however small,, should be kept a secret between the two, who are so thoroughly one. There should be perfect loyalty, perfect honour, and the most perfect keeping of secrets. Surely Lady Castlemaine took one of the most fatal steps in her life when she confided in Isabel Hyde against her husband. Hers was the fault —childish anger born of pique, and devoid of malice. Isabel fanned it into a flame.

"I have always understood," she said, slowly, " that sooner or later, after marriage, there is a struggle for authority between husband and wife."

" And which, as a rule, wins ?" asked Lady Caatlemainti. You see, Isabel, I was very young when I married, and it was only my first season. I had not had much experience. Which wins, as a rule?" " The wives, my dear, if they know how to manage it," replied Miss Hyde, her beautiful face for once assuming the wisdom of a matron of fifty.■ "The thing is, Gertrude, never to give in, to be firm from the first; if there is a slight misunderstanding, to wait untill the husband makes the fir«t advance. The woman, who goee pleading and crying to her husband after a quarrel is lost. Take my word for it."

"Is she ?" said Lady Castlemaine, dreamily. " But then, Isabel, that does not seem quite right. After all, the husband is head." "Nonsense? This is an old exploded superstition. Why should it be so? If you adopt those principles you will have a gloomy life of it. Why should men assume command and women promise obedience, when, as everyone knows, in these days there is perfeoi; 'qualitybetween the sexes? Your -motto, iiivi *ad the motto of every wife should "DB, * Sold your own.'" Lady Castlemaine looked thoughtful. "' But does not that make a good deal of misery and quarrelling ?" she asked. "There will always be quarrelling, but much less this way. If a husband sees that his wife knows, understands, and appreciates the value of her own position, knows how to take her stand, he treats her with a certain kind of respect. If he sees she is frightened at him, that she is ready to yield him a slavish obedience, he despises her, and tires of her."

'' But this is not like marriage, as I thought it was," said Lady Castlemaine. "There is nothing in all this about the union of souls." " All nonsense !" cried Isabel, scornfully. '• One would think you had lived in Arcadia. Talk of union of money, union of estate, of position, of anything you will; but not of union of souls. The better plan is for each one to ateer his own course ; but I know what I should do."

" What?" asked Lady Caatlemaine, slowly. "I should hold my own," replied Isabel. " There are two ways of settling even this little quarrel of yours, which is not worth mentioning." A faint shadow fell over the beautiful face of the young wife. "Perhaps," said Isabel Hyde, "you would rather that I did not say what I think on the subject; if so, I can be silent." "No. I should like to know what you think," said Lady Castlemaine; but the shadow deepened, " I should wait until he made the first advance. I should not let him seo that I was in a great hurry to be friends." "I shall not," said Lady Castlemaine. Yet in her heart she felt a yearning for his presence, a longing for him. She would have liked his arm round her waiat; she would have liked hi? warm, loving careeses. He had been so lorag a part of her life that it seemed strange tc exist even for a few hours estranged from him.

She looked up with a sudden light in her blue eyes. ■'Isabel," she said, "Rudolph likes tea here in my boudoir. Shall I send for him ?" Then Isabel's heart sank within her. After her long lesson, and earnest endeavour to instil quite the opposite ideas into her mind, the sole result was, "Should she ask her husband up to tea ?" " My dear Gertrude," ehe said, " why consult me ? I have given you my thoughts in the matter."

"Ah, then, you would not nek him," said Lady Castlemaine. " You must look ai; it fairly," said Isabel. " If you invite him, and he refuses, you will have drawn your humiliation on yourself," "I do not like humiliation," said Lady Castlemaine.

*' Few people do, but you will have deserved it if you do this." The consequence was that these words went deeply into Lady Castletnaine'a heart, and she determined not to invite her husband —to let him see that she could be cold and haughty, as well as himself. She could do without him, if he could do without her, and to herself she uttered all the silly sayings, and harboured all the senseless fancies by which women' seek to strengthen themselves in wrong-doing. Lord Castlemaine did not like this temporary separation from his wife, but he consoled himself by thinking it would be all right; that she would be sure to send for him, as usual, to join her at tea. He waited with a certain sense of impatience for the summons which never came. " It does not matter," he said to himself, haughtily ; " nothing could matter less. If she does not want me, I can do equally well without her, as I shall let her «ee." There was bitterness in each heart, and a determination not to make the first advance. Husband and wife met at dinner. They were compelled to exchange the civilities and courtesies of the dinner table; but it was done with cold looks and averted eyes, which Isabel Hyde alone noticed, and at which ehe rejoiced. There was a dinner-party at Neaih House, that night to be followed by a dance, and not one among the visitors noted the enstrange*

ment between the beautiful young wife and her hunband.

On that evening Isabel Hyde looked per* fectly and radiantly beautiful* Her dress was of pale rose-pine and the richest black lace. She wore some fine pearls, the gift of Lady Cresson. As usual, she shared the honours with Lady Caetlemuine. No one knew which to iidmire the most, the lovely hostess, or her brilliant friend. Isabel's quick eyes noted the shadow that evening on the face of the man she loved with such an evil love.

■ " He must learn to quarrel with his wife and not feel unhappy over it, before I can do anything with him," she said to herself. " Bat lam getting on; lam making progress ; the love spell is broken; they have quarreled; I have inserted the thin end of the wedge." Seeing Lord Castlemaine alone on the balcony, she went out to him. " Do you find the rooms warm ?" she asked. " Ye?, unusually so," he replied, " but the night air is beautiful."

"I will join you," she said, and she stepped from the drawing-room to the balcony. "You have the best of it," she said. " You have the moonlight and the fresh air all to yourself." She went up to him and stood by his side. There could be nothing on earth snore beautiful than this radiant woman with the moonlight on her face and the rose-gleams of her dress.

"You seem out of spirits to-night, Lord Castlemaine,' she said. Then she laughed to herself a low, rippling laugh that was like music, and roused him from his reverie.

" What is it—what are you laughing at, Mies Hyde ?" he asked. "An idea that is probably a very absurd one," she answered ; " but I was just thinking libat a husband and wife ought to be equally balanced, like a pair of scales." "In what way ?" he asked. "In the way of spirits. If one is dull and depressed the other should be the same ; if one is bright and cheerful, so should the other be."

" And is nob that generally the case ?" he asked.

"No," she replied. "It should be, but it is not. I was thinking of the difference between you and Gertrude to night. You look dull and preoccupied; she is more cheerful—nay, more brilliant, even than I have known her before."

"Iβ she—so happy—to night 2" he asked, slowlv.

" Yes. I like to see Gertrude happy; she is doubly beautiful when she is bright." He thought to himself, sadly, that it was strange she should be so happy and gladsome when she was not friendly with him. " If eho can be bright," he thought, "so can I. At least, I can be as independent of her as she can possibly be of me." He threw off his gloom and reserve, and the lines of the old ballad came to hie mind— " If she be cot fair to me, What care I how fair sfa# be ?"

If his wife cared to be brilliant and bright when she was not friendly with him, why should he care ? If she could impress upon others her gaiety and high content when he and she passed without speaking, why should he despond ? While the moon shone on the beautiful ffice of the woman who was luring him to hie rain, he talked to her in a fashion nearer approaching to flirtation than he had ever done before.

CHAPTER XX. "kiss and bb fbibnds."

" We shall never quarrel again, shall we, Rudolph," asked Lady Castlemaine ; for by some means or other reconciliation had taken place between husband and wife. " No, my darling," he replied, " never." "I was miserable while I was out of patience with you, Rudolph." And the white, jewelled hands caressed his face, the sweet lips kissed him, and the sweet eyes rained emiles and kindness upon him.

" X wae wretched, too," he said. " I cannot imagine how we could be so foolish." They were in the pretty conservatory, where the bright May sun would find its way and fall on the rare and costly blossoms. No flower there was so fair and sweet as the face of the woman that was clinging, with kisses, and,tears, and smiles, round her husband's neck. With that beautiful figure in his arms, with those sweet lips caressing him, and the white, tender arm laid round his neck, Lord Castlemaine could not imagine how he had ever quarrelled with his wife. " Eudolph," she said, after a few minutes, "do you remember that conversation of ours about the death of love ?"

" I remember it well," be replied. "And you stud, darling, that when two people had the same faults, and had bat little toleration for each other, love soon died. I am afraid, at times, that ia how our love will die. When I am proud and unforgiving, you are the same. It does not matter much now that our quarrels are over trifles ; but if ever we dispute over anything serioua what will become of us ?"

"I can tell you," he replied gloomily. "If ever any serious quarrel came between us we should break each other's heart. Those who love most, hate most. We have the same faults; we should torture each other to death."

" Then we must be careful not to quarrel. I cannot imagine love like ours turned into hate."

"Can you not?" he said gloomily. "I can. Yon may be quite sure of one thing, Gertrude: If we really quarreled, it would be with twice the malice and vehemence and bitterness of people who love each other less then we do. We should end by growing cruel to each other." "I do not believe it, ,, she said, who knew everything by theory and little by experience.

"It is true, my darling. You know that great truth in science—extreme heat resembles cold; so in the warmth of love, it seems to me, there is something of the cold of cruelty. I have this certain feeling myself—that I could be cruel to one whom I loved desperately. I have heard others say the same thing. Ah, Gertrude darling, we will not have this cruolty in love; we will be on the safe side.

"I think that you are right," she said, clasping her white arms more tightly around his neck. " Though I love you so dearly, better than anything in this world, better than life itself, yet if £ were angry with you I could be cruel to you." "And Xto you," he eaid. " The thing is to avoid quarrelling," "Rudolph," she said, "do you believe that cruelty is inherent in everyone, lies in every heart, lice innate in every nature ?" "I have often thought ao. Those who love each other have often pursued each other with most vindictive hatred. Most boys delight in cruelty ; there are few exceptions. The difference is that the boys kills butterflies, stone rate and dogs, while the grown man breaks women's hearts." "You are not cruel," she said; "yon would never have done any of these thing*." "No," he replied, slowly; "I do not remember that I did; but then I was sensitive; I could not bear to inflict pain on anything created. lam more cruel as a man than I was as a boy. If you, my best beioved one, did me an injury—hurt me, defied me; I could be oruel to you, because my love would be so cruelly outraged; that is how it is. But we need not discuss the question any farther; there will never be another quarrel." And this reconciliation was so sweet; it was like a renewal of the happy days of courtship.' Isabel only smiled when she saw it. There would be a greater quarrel soon, and it would cot be so easily healed; and she was right. The second quarrel was more violent, was of longer duration, was more difficult to heal, and the reconciliation was less sweet, less easily brought about. Drop by drop the falling wnter wears the stone ; little by little the brook runs into the river; one by one the leaves fall, until there are none left. So, little by little, always by a treacherous enemy, the quarrels and want of harmony between husband and v7Jfe increased.

They had married from pure love, not from any idea that they were suitable to each other; they bad never in the least degree studied each other's disposition, and now that they began aach to make the discovery of the other's faults, neither had the patience or forbearance to put up with them. " I had no idea that Rudolph was so impatient," said Lady Castlemaine in one of her unfortunate confidences to Isabel.

Mies Hyde laughed, " That is not impatience," she answered. "It is the Caetlemaine temper." "Why should the Castlemaines have a temper differeat from other people's ?" asked Lady Castlemaine. " I do not think it differs from others," Isabel replied, with a laugh, " only that it is just a trifle worse. My aunt, Lady CressoD, knew your husband's father—think he was an

admirer of hers—and I have heard, her say there are things peculiar to the Castlemaines —their temper, their good looks, and their diamonds." " The temper of a whole line of ancestors would not affect me," said Gertrude; and she made a most unfortunate resolve to herself in that moment;. It was that she would never yield to these* tempers, or take them into consideration. If bal temper was one of the characteristics of the antiquity of race, why, thank Heaven, she came of a modern family. The day after this conversation husband and wife were both together in the room that Lord C'istlemaine liked best in the house— his wife's boudoir. Isabel Hyde was present.

" I should like luncheon an hour later today, Gertrude," said her husband. " Will it inconvenience you ?" There wasaometliinginbig tone of voice, she could hardly tell what, that she resented; and never having learned the least selfcontrol, she did resent it. "It will not inconvenience me," she replied. • ''From the tone of your voice I should imagine that it will be inconvenient for someone. "

"The Castlemaine temper is rising," thought Gertrude ; " but I never mean to be frightened at it, or to let it daunt me." " It is inconvenient for the household," she said, carelessly ; and the Castlemaine temper rose again. " Do you think that I am to consult the household before I make an appointment ?" he asked, angrily. A mild answer, a kind word, would have turned aside all his anger, and would have made him bend down and kiss his wife's face. A careless retort made him more angry still. "I should think that every master of a house would think twice before he changed the arrangement of his house for a day." " I do not see it," he eaid, shortly. " I do," she replied. " I decline to study the convenience of my servants in such an absurd fashion as that. You have no objection yourself, Gertrude ?" • • Not in the leaet," she eaid. " All hours are the same to me."

"And you, Jlius Hyde," he added. "I would go without luncheon to oblige you, Lord Castlemaine." Then for the first time a wish half-crossed his mind that Gertrude was more amiable, more like Isabel Hyde. "Thank you," hn said, simply, as he quitted the room. "So that i 3 the Castlemaine temper," said Gertrude. " Well, if fools trace their ancestry to apes the Caatlemaines must trace theirs to bears."

Which speech Isabel Hyde was careful to report to Lord Castlemaine—under a solemn promise of secrecy—as an excellent jest, but he did not see it quite in that light. Temper, pride, and impatience lay between them, but up to this time there had been no jealousy. There had been no cause for any ; but Isabel Hyde, alter a careful study of both characters, had come to the conclusion that it was jealousy she must work upon. It was latent in all the Cftstlemaines; it seemed to go naturally with, their dark, proud beauty, just as it did with the warm, passionate hearts and angry tempers. Some strange stories were told in the annals of the family of punishment given by jealous husbands to their wives. Charles 11. smiled on beautiful Lady Edelgitha Castlemaine, and her angry husband took her off to Neath Abbey and kept her tbere. No more going to court for him. Lady Barbara Castlemaine was weak enough to admire very enthusiastically a handsome and romantic young Italian tenor, and her husband did just the same thing, he carried her from town in the midst of the season, and never allowed her to visit the opera house again, They were men of fire and steel, men born to command, who brooked no opposition, no contradiction, men who were as accustomed to their own way as they were to the air they breathed, men who, with the most chivalrous respect for women, still considered them as of decidedly inferior creation. They were to be cherished, taken care of, loved, worshipped, bub never to step out ef their place, never to assume that they were to stand side by side with their masters. They never had done so ; the Ladies Castlemaine had been among the most docile and obedient of women ; there was to be a change now.

The day came when Isabel Hyde stood with a smile on her beautiful face and a look of triumph in her dark eyes. "I see my way now," she said to herself, " straight without stopping. There was no pause in that terrible time when the fallen angels were driven from heaven, there was no pause in that terrible hour when Michael, with the flaming sword, drove Adam and Eve from Paradise. Neither will I pause in the task I have undertaken, and for the first time I see my way to the end." [To be continued.]