CYNTHIA WAKEHAM'S MONEY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXIX, Issue 8986, 17 September 1892, Page 3 (Supplement)

CYNTHIA WAKEHAM'S MONEY.

BY ANNA KATHARINE GREKN, Author of "The Leavenworth Case," "The Forsaken Inn," " A Matter of Millions," etc., etc. CHAPTER Continued.) Yet, for all its assurance, Frank's voice had strange tones in it, and Edgar, already annoyed at his own self-betrayal, looked at him suspiciously as they drew away together toward the main street. "I am glad to find this out," said Frank, with a hilarity slightly forced, or so thought his friend, who could nob know what thoughts and hopes this discovery had awakened in the other's breast. " You have kept your secret well; but now that I knowit, you cannot refuse to make me your confident when there is so much to tell involving my - happiness as well as your own." "I have no happiness, Frank." " Nor I; but 1 mean to have." " Mean to marry Miss Cavanagh?" " Of course, if i can induce her to marry me." " I do not mean to marry Emma." " You do not? Because she has a secret Is involve 1 in a mystery ? ' " Partly -, that would be enough, Frank ; but I have another good reason : Miss Emma Cavanagh does not care for me." "You know that? You have asked her?" " A year ago. This is no sudden passion with me ; I have loved her all my life." " Edgar ! And you can give her up ?" " Give her up? - ' "If I were you nothing would induce me to resign my hopes, nob oven her own coldness. I would win her. Have you tried again since your return ?" "Frank, she is a recluso now. I could nob marry a recluse; my wife must play her part in the world, and be my helpmate abroad as well as at home." "Yes, yes; but, as I said in my own case, win "her love and that will all right itself. No woman's resolve will hold out against a true passion." " But, you forget; she has no true passion for me." Frank did not answer; he was musing over the subject. He had an opportunity for seeing into the hearts of these girls which hail been denied to Edgar. Had ho seen love there Yes ; but in Hermione's breast, not Emma's. . And yet Emma was deenlv sad, and it was Emma whom he had just seen walking her restlessness off under the midnight trees. " Edgar," he suddenly exclaimed, "you may not understand this girl. Their whole existence is a mystery, and so may their hearts be. Won't you tell me how it was she refused you It may serve to throw some light upon the facts." " What light? She refused me, as all coquettish women refuse the men whom they have led to believe in their affection." "Ah! you once believed, then, in her affection "Should I have offered myself if I had not ?' "I don't know. I only know I didn't wait for any such belief on the part of Hermione." " You are impulsive, Frank ; I am not. I weigh well what I do; fortunately for myself." " Yet you did not prosper in this affair." "No, because I did not take a woman's waywardness into consideration. I thought 1 had a right to count upon her regard, and I found myself mistaken." "Explain yourself," entreated Frank. " Will not to-morrow do? Here we are at home, and it must be one o'clock, at least" " I should sleep better if I knew it all now," Frank intimated. "Well, then, come to my room; bub there is nothing in the story to especially interest you. I loved her—" " Edgar, you must be explicit. I am half lawyer in listening to this tale. I want to understand these girls." " Girls ? Ib is of Emma only that 1 have to speak." "I know; but tell the story with some details—tell me where you first met her.''' "Oh, if I must," sighed .Edgar, who hated all talk about himself, "let us be comfortable;" and throwing himself into a chair, he pointed out another to Frank. " This is more like it," acknowledged the latter. Edgar lit a cigar. Perhaps he felt that he could hide all emotion behind its fumes. Frank did not take one. "I have known Emma Cavanagh ever since we were children," began Edgar. " As a schoolboy, 1 thought her the merriesteyed witch in town. Is she merry now ?" Frank shook his head. " Well, 1 suppose she has grown older; bub then she was as full of laughter and Fun as any blue-eyed mischief could well be, and I, who have a cynical turn of mind, liked the brightness of hers as I shall never like her sadness—if she is sad. But that was in my adolescence, and being as shy as I was inclined to be cynical, I never showed her my preference, or even joined the mirthful company of which she was the head. I preferred to stand back and hear her laughter, or talk to Hermione while watching her sister." "Ah !" thought Frank. " When I went to college she went to school, and when I graduated as a doctor she was about graduating also. But she did not come home at that time for more than a fleeting visit. Friends wished her company on a trip abroad, and she went away from Mar.?ton just as I settled here for my first year of practice. I was disappointed at this, but I made what amends to myself I could by cultivating the acquaintance of her father, and making myself necessary to him by my interest in his studies. I spent much of my spare time at the house, and though I never asked after Emma, I used to get continual news of her from her sister." " Ah !" again ejaculated Frank to himself. "At last she returned, and—l do not know how she looks now, bub she was pretty then, wonderfully pretty, and more animated in manner than any other woman I have ever seen. I saw her first at a picnic, and though I lacked courage to betray the full force of my feeling, I imagined she understood me, for her smiles became dazzling and she joked with everybody but me. At last I had her for a few minutes to myself, and then the pent-up passion of months had its way, and I asked her to be my wife. Frank, you may find it easy to talk about these things, bub I do not. I j can only 6ay she seemed to listen to me j with modest delight, and when I asked her For her answer she gave me a look I shall never forget, and would have spoken but that her father called her just then, and we were obliged to separate. 1 saw her for just another moment that day, but there were others about, and I could only whisper: ' If you love me, come to the ball next week,' to which she gave me no other reply than an arch look and a smile which, as I have said before, appeared to promise me all I could desire. Appeared, but did nob ; for when I called ab the house the next day I was told that Mr. Cavanagh was engaged in an experiment that could nob be"interrupted, and when I asked to see the ladies, received word that they were very busy preparing for the ball and could see no one. Relieved at this, for the ball was near at hand, I went home, and being anxious to do the honourable thing, I wrote to Mr. Cavanagh, and telling him thab I loved his daughter, formally asked for the honour of her hand. This note I sent by a messenger. "I did nob receive an immediate reply. (Why do you want all these particulars, Frank ?) But I did not worry, for her look was still warm in my memory. But when two days passed and no message arrived, I became uneasy, and had it nob been for the well-known indifference of Mr. Cauavagh to all affairs of life outside of his laboratory, I should have given up in despair. But, as ib was, I kepb my courage up bill the night of the ball, when it suddenly fell, never to rise again. Forwill you believe ib, Frank ? she was nob there, nor any of her family, though all had engaged to go and had made many preparations for the affair, as 1 knew." "And did no letter come? Did you never see Miss Cavanagh again or any of her family " I received a note, but it was very short, though it was Emma's handwriting. She had nob been well, was her excuse, and so could nob be present at the ball. As for the offer I had been kind enough to make hor, ib was far above her deserts, and so must be gratefully declined. Then came a burst of something like contrition, and the

prayer that I would nob seek to make her alter her mind, as her decision was irrevocable. Added to this was one line, from her father, to the effect that, interesting as ouc studies were, he felt compelled to tell me ho should have no further time to give to them at present, and so bade me a kindly adieu. Was there ever a more complete dismissal? I felt as if I had been thrust out of the house."

Frank, who was nothing if nob syml pathetic, nodded quickly, but did not break into those open expressions of indignation which his friend had evidently anticipated. The truth was, he was too busy considering the affair and asking himself what part Hermione had taken in it, and whether all its incongruities were not in some way due to her. Ho was so anxious to assure himself that this was not so, that ho finally asked : " And was thab the end? Did you never see any of them again ?" "I did not wish to," was the answer. "I had already thought of trying my fortune in the West, and when this letter came it determined mo. In three weeks I had left Marston, as I thought, for ever but I was not successful in the West." "And you will be here,"observed Frank. " I think so," said Edgar, and became suddenly silent. Frank looked at him a long time, and then said quietly : "I am glad you love her still." Edgar, flushing, opened his lips, bub the other would nob listen to any denial. "If you did not love her you would not have come back to Marston ; and if you did not love her still, you would not pluck roses from her wall at midnight." "1 was returning from a patient," objected Edgar, shortly. "I know, bub you stopped. You need not blush to own it, for, as I say, I think it a good thing that you have not forgotten Miss Cavanagh," And nob being willing to explain himself further, Frank rose and sauntered toward the door. " We have talked well into the night," he remarked ; "supposing we let up now, and continue our conversation to morrow !" "I am willing to let up," acquiesced Edgar; "but why continue to-morrow ? Nothing can be gained by fruibless conjectures on this subject, while much peace of mind may be lost by them." " Well, perhaps you are right," quoth Frank. CHAPTER XII. FRtSII DOUBTS. Frank was recalled to business the next day by the following letter from Flatbush.:— i>EarMr. Etherioof.,— It his been discovered, this afternoon, that Mr. Huckins has loft town. When he went, or where lie has gone, no one seems to know. Indeed, it was supposed that he was still in the house, where he has been hiding ever -since the investigations were over; but a neighbour, having occasion to go in there to-day, found the building empty, and all Mr. Huckins' belongings missing." I thought you would like to know of this disappearance.— Yours truly, A. W. Se.nev. As this was an affair for the police, Frank immediately returned to New York ; but it was not many days before he was back again in Marston, determined to see Miss Cavanagh once more, and learn if his suit was as really hopeless as it appeared. He brought a box of some beautiful orchids with him, and these ho presented to Miss Emma as being the one most devoted to (lowers. Hermione looked a little startled at his presence, but Mrs. Lovell, the dear old lady who was paying them a visit, smiled gently upon him, and he argued well from that smile, knowing that it possessed its meaning from one whose eyes were so bright with intelligence as hers. The evening was cool for summer, and a fire had been lighted in the grate. By this tire they all sat, and Frank, who was strangely happy, entertained the three recluses with merry talk, which was not without a hidden meaning for one of the quiet listeners. When the old aunt rose and slipped away, the three drew nearer and the conversation became more personal. At last —how was it done?— Emma vanished also, and Frank, turning to utter some witty speech, found only Hermione's eyes confronting him in the fire-glow. At once the words faltered on his tongue, and leaning forward, he reached out his hand, for she was about to rise also. " Do not rob me of this one moment," he prayed. " I have come back, you see, because I could not stay away. Say that it does not anger you—say that I may come now and then and see your face, even if I may not hope for all that my heart craves." " Do I look like an angry woman ?" she asked, witrya sad smile. "No," lip whispered, "nor do you look Rlad." 7 "Glad!" she murmured"glad!" and the bitterness in her tone revealed to him how strong were the passions that animated her. "I have no business with gladness, not even if my own fate changed. I have forfeited all joy, Mr. Etheridge ; and that, I thought, you understood." " You speak like one who has committed a crime," he smiled. " Nothing else should make you feel as you do." She started, and her eyes fell. Then they rose suddenly and looked squarely into his. There are other crimes than those which are marked by blood," she said. " Perhaps 1 am not altogether guiltless " Frank shuddered. Ho had expected her to repel the charge, which ho had only made in the hope of showing her into what a morbid condition she had fallen. "My hands are clean," she went on, " but my soul is in shadow. Why did you make me speak of it ? You are my friend, and I want to keep your friendship ; but you see why it must not grow into love. Must not, I say, for both our sakes. It would he fatal." " I do nob see that," he cried, impetuously. " You do not make mo see ib. You hint and assert, bub you tell me nothing. It is facts which you should give me, Hermione, and then I could judge whether I should go or stay." She flushed, and her face, which had been lifted to bis, slowly sank. " You do not know what you ask of me," she murmured. " I know that I have asked you to be my wife," he declared. " And it was generous of youvery generous. Such generosity merits confidence, but— Let us talk of something else," she cried. "I am not fit—not well enough, I mean, to speak of serious matters to night. Tell me about your affairs. Tell me if you have found Harriet Smith." " No," he returned, greatly disappointed, ; for there had been something like yielding in her manner a moment before. "There is no Harriet Smith, and I do not even know that there is a Hiram Huckins, for he, too, has disappeared and cannot be found." "Hiram Huckins?" " Yes, her brother and the brother of Mrs. Wakeham, whose will has made all this trouble. He is the heir who will in herib her property if Harriet Smith or her children cannot be found ; and as the latter contingency is nob likely to happen, ib is odd that he should have run away without letting us know where he can bo found." " Is he a good man ?" "Hardly. Indeed, I consider him a rascal; bub he has a good claim on the property, as I have already said, and that is what angers me. A hundred thousand dollars should not fall into the hands of one bo mean and selfish as he is." Poetic justice is nob always shown in this world. Perhaps, if you found the true heirs, you would find them also lacking in much that was admirable." " Possibly ; bub they would nob be apt to be as bad as he is." "Is he dishonest "I do not like to accuse him, bub neither would I like to trust him with another man's money." " That Is unfortunate," she said. " And he will really have this money if you do not find any nearer heirs?" "Certainly; his name follows theirs in the will." "It is a pity," she observed, rising and moving toward the harp. "Do you want to hear a song that Emma composed when we were happier than we are now ?" "Indeed I do," was his eager reply. "Sing, I entreat you, sing ; ib will make me feel as if the gloom was lifting from between us." But at this word she came quickly back and sab down in her former place by the fire. "I do nob know whab came over me," said she. "I never sing." And she looked with a severe and sombre gaze into the flames-before her. " Hermione, have you no right to joy, or even to give joy to others ?" Tell me more about the case that is inberesbing you. Supposing you found Harriet Smith or her children ?" " I would ohow them the will, and pub them in the way of securing their fortune." \ "I should like to see thab will."

"You would?" ' c Yes ; it would interest me." "You do not look very interested." "Do I nob ? Yet I am, 1 assure you." "Then you shall see it, or, rather, this newspaper copy of it, which I happen to have in my pocket-book." "What, that little slip?" "Ibis not very largo." "I thought that a will was something ponderous." " Sometimes it is, but this is short and very much to the point; it was drawn up in haste.

" Let me take it," she said. She took it and carried it over to the lamp. Suddenly she turned about, and her face was very white. " What odd provision is this," she cried, "about the heir being require! to live a year in the house where this woman died'?" "Oh," said he, "that is nothing. Anyone who inherits this money would not mind such a condition as that. Mrs. Wakeham wanted the house fitted up, you see. It had been her birthplace." Hermione silently handed him back the slip. She looked so agitated that he was instantly struck by it. " Why are you "so affected by this?" ho cried. " Hermione, Hermione, this is something to you." She roused herself and looked calmly at him, sinking her head. " You are mistaken," she declared. "It is nothing to me." "To someone you know, then—to your sister ?"

" How could it bo anything to her if not to mo ?"

" Tine. I beg your pardon ; but you soem to fool a personal disappointment." " You do not understand me very well," said she, and turned toward to the door in welcome of her aunt and her sister, who just then came in. They were followed by Dorris, with a tray on which were heaped masses of black and white cherries in bountiful profusion. " From our own trees," said Emma, as she handed him a plate. He made his acknowledgments and leaned forward to tako the cherries which Doris offered him.

"Sir," whispered that woman, as she pushed into view a little note which she held in her hand under the tray, "just read this, and I won't disobey you again. It's something that you ought to know. For the young ladies' sakes, do read it, sir."

He was very angry, and cast her a displeased look ; but he took tho note. Hermione was at the other end of the room, and Emma was leaning over her aunt, so the action was not seen ; but he felt guilty of a discourtesy, for all that, and ate his cherries with a disturbed mind. Doris, on the contrary, looked triumphant, and passed from one to the other with a very cheerful smile. Frank felt that his evening was over, and presently took his leave. As they stood on the doorstep, preparatory to saying good-night, Hermione asked : " At what time do you take the train in the morning ?" " At nine." was his reply. " There will be a basket for you in tho morning, if you will stop ab the door as you so by." " I will slop," said he wondering. "Perhaps it may be a farewell," she whispered ; and before he could reply sho had vanished, and the door had gently closed behind him. When Frank arrived home he read that note. It was from Doris herself, and ran thus : — Something has happened to the young ladies. They were to have had new dresses this month, and' now they say they must make the old oil's do. There is less, too, for dinner than there was, and it" it were not for the fruit on our trees we would not have always enough to eat. Hut th.it is not the worst. Miss" Kmma says 1 shall have to leave them, as they cannot pay me any longer for my work. As if I would leave them if I starved ! Do -do find out what this m-ans, for it is too much to believe they aro going to be poor, with all the i est they have to endure. Find oub whab it meant? He knew what it meant. They had sacrificed their case, and now they must go hungry, wear old clothes, and possibly do their own work. Ib made him heartsick; ib made him desperate; it made him well-nigh forget her look when she said : " Our friendship must nob grow into love. Must not, I say, for both our sakes. It would be fatal." He resolved to see Hermione the next morning, and, if possible, persuade her to listen to reason, and give up a resolve that endangered both her own and her sister's future comfort. CHAPTER XIII. IN' THE NIGHT- WATCH KS. Meanwhile, in the old house, Hermione sat watching Emma as she combed out her long hair before the tiny mirror in their bedroom. Her face, relieved now from all effort at self-control, betrayed a deep discouragement, which deepened its tragic lines and seemed to till the room with gloom. Yet sho said nothing till Emma had finished her task and looked around ; then she exclaimed : " Another curse has fallen upon us ! We might have been rich, bub musb remain poor. Do you bhink we can bear any more disappointments, Emma?' "I do not think thab I can," murmured Emma, with a pitiful smile. " But what do you mean by riches? Gaining that case would nob have made us rich." "No." "Has Mr. Etheridge offered himself? Have you had a chance of that happiness and refused it?" Hermione, who had been gazing almost sadly at her sister as she spoke the foregoing words, flushed half angrily, half disdainfully, and answered, with sufficient bitterness in her voice : " Could I accept any man's devotion now Could I accept even his, if it were offered to me ? Emma, your memory seems very short, or you hare never realised the position in which I stand." Emma, who had crimsoned as painfully as her sister at that one emphasised word which suggested so much bo both sisters, did not answer for a moment; but when she did her words came with startling distinctness. "You do me wrong. I not only have realised to the core of my heart your position and what it demands, but I have shared it, as you know, and never more than when the question came up as to whether we girls could marry with such a shadow hanging over us." " Emma, what do you mean ?" asked Hermione, rising and confronting her sister with wide open, astonished eyes. For Emma's . appearanco was startling, and might well thrill an observer who had never before seen her gentleness disturbed by a passion as groat as sho herself might feel. But Emma, ab bhe first sighb of this reflection of her own emotions in Hermione's face, calmed her- manner and pub a check upon her expression. " If you do nob know," said she, " I had rather nob be the one to tell you. Bub never again say that I do not realise your position." " Emma, Emma," pursued Hermiomv without a change of tone or any diminution in the agitation of her manner to show thai she had heard these words, " have you hatS a lover and I not know it? Did you givtl up that when—when—" The elder sister choked. The younger smiled, but with an infinite sadness. "I should nob have spoken of ib," said she. " I would nob have done so bub thab I hoped to influence you to look upon this affair with different eye 3. —I believe you ought to embrace this new hope, Hermione, so that you tell him—" " Tell him ? That would bo a way to gain him, purely." " I do not think ib would cause you r» lose him ; that is, if you could assure hi»x that your heart is free to love him as such a man ought to be loved." The question in these words made Hermione blush and turn away ; but her emotion was nothing to that of the quieter sister, who, after she had made this suggestion, stood watching ibs effect wibh eyes in which the pain and despair of a year seeemed at once to flash forth to light. "I honour him," began Hermione, in a low, broken voice; " but you know it was not honour simply that I folt for— - " Do not speak his name !" flashed out Emma. "Heyou—do not care for each other, or—oryou and I would never bo talking as we are doing here tonight. I am sure you have forgotten him, Hermione, for all your hesitations and efforts to be faithful. I have seen it in your eyes for weeks ; I have heard ib in your voice when you have spoken to this new friend. Why, then, deceive yourself? Why let a wornout memory stand in the way of a new joy, a real joy, an unsullied and wholly promising happiness »" " Emma ! Emma ! what has come to you? You never talked to mo like this be-

fore. Is ib the memory of this folly only thab stands in the way of what you so astonishingly advocate? Can a woman under such a ban as I give herself up to any hope, any joy ?" " Yes, for the ban will depart when you yield yourself once again to the natural pleasures of life. I do not believe in it, Hermione; I have never believed in ib, yet I have cheerfully shared ib, because—because— You know why. Do not let) us talk of those days." " You—have—never—believed—in — the curse—which—hangs—over —my — head !'g quoth Hermione, startled, and almost rigid in her surprise. " 1 believe in the curse, bub nob in your sacrificing your life to it. Why should you? Have you not duties to tho present as well as to the past? Should you not think of tho long years thab may lie between this hour and a possible old age?— years which might be filled with beneficence and love, but which now" "Emma! Emma 1 what are you saying? Aro you so tired of sharing my fate that you would try to make me traitor to my word, traitor to my love—" "Hush !" whispered again Emma. " You do not love him. Answer me if you do. Plunge deop into your heart and say if you feel as you did once. I want to hear the words from your lips, but be honest." " Would it be any credit to me if I did not ? Would you think more of me if I acknowledged the past was a mistake, and that I wrecked my life for a passion which a year's absence could annul?"

But tho tender Emma was inexorable, and held her sister by the hands while she repeated : "Answer! Answer! or I shall take your very refusal for a reply." Bub Hotmiono only dropped her head, and finally drew away her hands. " You seem to prefer the cause of this new man," she murmured, ironically. "Perhaps you think he will make the bettor brother-in-law." The blush on Emma's cheek spread till it dyed her whole neck. "I think," she observed, gravely, "that Mr. Etheridge is the more devoted to you, Hermione. Doctor Sellick" —what did that name cost her!—"has nob even looked up at our windows when riding by the house."

Hermione's eyes flashed, and she bounded imperiously to her feet. "And that is why I think that he still remembers. And shaUtf. forget," she murmured more softly, " while he cherishes one thought of grief or chagrin over the past Emma, whose head had fallen on her breast, played idly with hor long hair and softly drew it across her face. " If you knew," she murmured, "that he did not cherish one thought such as you imagine, would you then open your heart to this new love, and tho brightness in the world, and all the hopes which belong to our time of life?"'

" If—if," repeated Hermione, staring at the half-hidden face of her sister as at some stranger whom she had found persistent and, incomprehensible. "I don't know what you mean by your 'ifs.' Do you think ib would add to my content and §elf-satisfaction to hear that I had reared this ghastly prison which I inhabit on a foundation of sand, and that the walls, in toppling, would crash about my cars and destroy me? Yeu must have a strange idea of a woman's heart if you thought ib would make me any readier to face life if I knew I had sacrificed my all to a chimera."

Emma sighed. " Not if it gave you a new hope?" she whispered. "Ah!" murmured Hermione, and her face softened for the first time. " I dare not think of that," she murmured. " I dare not, Emma ; I dare not." The younger sister, as if answered, threw back her hair and looked at Hermione quite brightly. You will come to dare in time," said she, and fled from the room like a spirit. When sho was gone, Hermione stood still for a long time; then she began quietly to let down her own hair. As the long locks fell, curling and dark, about her shoulders, a dreamier and dreamier spirit came upon her, mellowing the light in her half-closed eyes and bringing such a sweet, half-timid, half-longing smile to hor lips that she looked the embodiment of virginal joy. But the mood did not last long, and ere the thick curls were duly parted and arranged for tho night, the tears had begun to fall and the sobs to come, till she was fain to put out her light and hide behind the curtains of her bed tho u'rief and remorse which wero pressing upon her. Meanwhile Emma had stolen to her aunt's room, and was kneeling down beside her peaceful figure. "Aunt, dear aunt," she cried, " tell me whab my duty is. Help mo to decide if Hermione should be told the truth which wo have so long kept from her." She know the old lady could not hear, bub sho was in the habit of speaking to her just as if she could, and often, through some subtle sympathy between them, the sense of her words was understood and answered in a way to surprise her. And in this ca-e Mrs. Lovell seemed to understand, for she kissed Emma with great fondness, and then, taking the sweet, troubled, passionate face between her two palms, looked at her with such love and sympathy that the tears filled lemma's eyes, for all her efforts at self-control. "Tell her," came forth, at last, in the strange, loud tones of the perfectly deaf, " and leave the rest to God. You have kept silence and the wound has not healed. Now try the truth ; and may heaven bless you and the two others whom you desire to make happy." And Emma, rising up, thanked God that He had left them this one blessing in their desolation—this true-hearted and tondersouled adviser. That night, as Hermione was tossing in a restless sleep, she suddenly became aware of a touch on her shoulder, and, looking up, she saw her sister standing before her, with a lighted candle in her hand and her hair streaming about her. " What is the matter?" she cried, bounding up in terror ; for Emma's face was livid with its fixed resolve, and wore a look such as Hermoine had never seen there before. " Nothing," cried tho other—" nothing ; only I have something to tell you—something which you should have known a lo'-g time ago—something about which you should never have been deceived. Ib is this, Hermione: lb was nob you Doctor Sellick wished to marry, bub myself;" and with the words the light was blown out, and Hermione found herself alone. [To be continued.)