A LIFE'S MISTAKE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXX, Issue 9229, 17 June 1893, Page 3 (Supplement)

A LIFE'S MISTAKE.

BY CHARLES GARVICE, Author of"Better Than Life," "Paid For," " Elaine," etc.

CHAPTER XLI. Senley Tyers fell back in the carriage 88 if he had been struck, and covered his eyes with his hand. Ho saw now why Lady Florence had so promptly consented to accompany him. All through the drive ho had been wondering in a vague way, in the midst of his mental excitement, why she had dono so—why she had given way with so little hesitation. lb was all plain now. She was not married. She was, then, beyond his roach, out of his power I Mis hand dropped from his eyes, and ho looked at her as a man looks at the foe who suddenly rises from the ground upon which he has been thrown and becomes the victor instead of the vanquished. Lady Florence mot the look, and laughed D with pitiless scorn. a "For a clever man, who prides himself upon his astuteness, Mr. Tyers," she said, V " you have been singularly obtuse." r "Yes," ho said, with a kind of dull £ resignation. She laughed again. Her eyes glittered ; there was a spot on each cheek. ■ t " I am glad you admit) your blunder," she said. " And now, please, as our little comedy is over, perhaps you will be good , enough to tell your coachman to drive back to the Grange." „ "And if I refuse?" ho said, in the same dull, expressionless way. l "Then I shall wait until wo reach the station, and summon the officials to rescue me from the hands of a madman." "Take cure" he said, warningly. " You * are nearly right. 1 am almost mad, and J madmen are dangerous." ( ' " I c'o not fear you, mad or sane," she l said, haughtily. "You threaten to shoot l me— l suppose that is what you mean?" l She laughed drearily. "It is the greatest kindness you can do me, and Ido not think < you are capable of a kindness." « "Not to you," ho said. "It is love or t hate between us, Florence" "Let it be halo, by all moans. I prefer it. And now, will yon tell the coachman to turn, please ? I shall be delighted to give i you a lift as far as the Grange, where my father will be pleased to hear a full account of the business from you." She laughed. "Really, Mr. Tyers, though both of us are to be pitied, you, 1 think, noed the most sympathy." Ho leaned forward and touched her arm, i not roughly, bub with a more ominous delicacy. "Do not—do not, I beg of you—drive mo too hard !" ho said, hoarsely. " Yes, I am to bo pitied, Lady Florence. You cannot know what lovo moans, or even you would spare mo. All that I have done, tho work of weary months, has been dono to gain you. The hope of my life is destroyed, lies shattered. A better man could bear it better than I can. It has been everything to me—everything—dearer than the desire of life ! And I have lost ! If there is a heart in your bosom, spare mo your gibesdo not gloat over mo !' Even Lady Florence was conscious of a faint spasm of pity for him. "Toll tho coachman to drive to the station," she said, coldly. " You can leave 1 me and go to London. If you will take a word of advico from me — " Ho raised his head and looked at hor. ' "Do not remain here. Leave England ' before Vane"— hor voico faltered ab tho ' name—" reach you. You who know ' him so well, know that ho will nOt let you go unpunished. Pub tho seas between you and him." ] I and You caro enough for me to—to v/arn " You caro enough for me to—to v/arn 1' me he said. 1 She shrugged hor shoulders. "Nob ab all. Bub I care onough for ' myself not to wish to bo connected with a murder case, Mr. Tyers. Vano Tempest 1 will kill you." 1 A strange smile flitted across his sallow * face. 5 "Lady Florence, I care as little for life I us you do. lam nob afraid of what Vane may do." Ho put up his hand to his eyes ' again and lapsed into silence. Tho 1 carriage rolled on and reached the station. ' Ho bent forward and laid his hands upon " her arras. "Do not be afraid," he said, 1 quietly. " I am only going to say good- ' bye. Florence, we may never meet again. ' 1 She shrunk from him, her face, white ' with a sudden fear, turned up to his. " I have lost you. We must part for ever, j Will you give me one—the first and lastkiss, or must I take it?" r Her lips opened to call out, but her voice v refused to obey her will. " [ He bent still lower and pressed his lips to hers in a passionate, despairing kiss. Then, j as she fell back panting, ho opened the door and stepped out. She heard him, in quite a calm, ordinary manner, tell the coachman to drive back to 3 the range, and saw him enter tho station e without even a glance back ab the carriage. Then the horses turned, and he was lost to sight. , Meanwhile, Nora had recovered from her I fainting fit. The first thing she did on 0 coming to and realising what had happened lfc was to burst into tears; and Mr. Lester 'r and Milly lot her alone until the storm had la passed. Bub when Nora, clasping her *• hands passionately, exclaimed, " Oh, I wish " I were dead!" Milly's self-restraint gave a, way. . . , » " Oh, I never heard anything so wicked '5 in my life!" she ejaculated. "To wish ie yourself dead the very moment providence is makes you happy." "Ht-ppy!" broke in Nora—"happy ! { How can you say so, when I know that— ie that he did nob bend it, that ho did nob a mean to make mo his wife ?" }• "Oh, Nora." " Not then, nob thab night," she said, defiantly. "I am nob fib to be his wife— you heard what Lady Florence said." h "Quite distinctly," said Mr. Lester, d drily ; " bub ib does not follow that I agree y with her." > r "But perhaps ib isn't true," said Nora, with a deep sigh. "Perhaps there is some ie mistake, something thab makes the :e marriage nob a real one. She looked ab i, Mr. Lester eagerly, d He shook his head. it "It is a perfectly sound marriage," he it said, gravely. a. " Then," she said, as if with a sudden ref- solution, " I will nob bake advantage of ib ; ie I will go away. Ho shall nob find mo ;he jr shall nob feel forced to—to -own me." " Oh, Nora !" breathed Milly again, js ■* Do you know thab what Lady Florence Br said is true Nora faltered, her face burn:k ing. "It is quite true 1" and in broken c- words, with many tears and sighs, she told id them the story of " Ernest Mortimer." " Well?" said Mr. Lester, when she had ," finished, ne She stared at him, aghaeb. " Well, do you think thab I, who did r's that, am fit to be his wife ?" ; : "He is the beat judge of that," said Mr. vo Lester, coolly. "And ho appears to have arrived ab the decision long ago." :«, " Bub—bub his friends, the world 1" fal■t. tered Nora, her face white and red by oy turns. ,0b ( Mr. Lester smiled significantly.

"My dear," he said, taking her hand, 'the world will not care a pin's point ibout it. Don't yon know that the king urn do no wrong—well, In the eyes of the irorld, neither can a countess." " A countess?" echoed poor Nora, putting ler hand to her head. Mr. Lester nodded gravely. "I forgot," he said. "You have not leard the news. My dear, Lord Westleigh ml his son are dead, and Mr. Vane Tempest— husband— now the earl." < Milly uttered an exclamation and seized Nora's hand. "A countess! Oh, Nora 1" Mora stared wildly from ono to the ither. "Oh, don't you see," she said, "that >nly makes it worse ? sTes, I must go away uid—and hide somewhere." " In your own room would be best for the present," said Mr. Lester, with something Df authority in his tone. "My dear, you ire too bewildered by all that has come to pass to form a proper judgment. Tomorrow" " To-morrow 1" said Nora, feverishly, '* I must leave here; I must go somewhere. [ will never, never be a burden upon him. [b is Lady Florence who should be his wife, not I, who am not fit—" She broke down again and hurried from the room. A countess 1 If it seemed impossible to her that she should be fit to bo the wife of Vano Tempest, how much more impossible that she should be the wife of a peer. She could, in her mind's eye, see ill-natured people pointing to her, hear them whisper : «• Poor Lord Westleigh ! He married a woman who went about in man's' clothes 1" All the world would know the story of her folly, and insist upon giving ib a worse —a worse name than folly. She rang for her maid. " Be ready to leave here to-morrow or— or the day after," she said, firmly. "We shall go on the Continent." Then, later in the day, she sought Milly. "Don't say a word, dear," she entreated, almost commanded. "We will go awayfar away—and stay away for years. There is nothing else to be.done." To her surprise, Milly offered no further remonstrance. " Very well, Nora dear. But you must give me three days," she said. That was all. But when her father came in, she said quite casually : " Papa, where did Lady Florence Heathcote come from— is she stopping, I

lean, for the wedding?" p Mr. Lester told her. He looked grave v nd anxious. a " How is Nora ?" he asked. " I am afraid i, ,-e shall have trouble with her, Milly. I ever saw anyone so determined to wreck j, er own happiness, and I'm afraid she'll n ucceed." t " Perhaps," was all Milly said, oracularly. j, lursingupherlips. "We shall see. Papa? 8 want a groom to ride into the town for a le." "What for?" ho asked, mechanically. 'Can I do it?" "No, you can't. It is a prescription, c he replied, concisely. " Very well," ho said ; and he rang the } •ell and ordered the groom. Immediately after the funeral, Vane tarted to return to th© Grange. The t awyora grumbled, and would have de- c ained him ; but they found that they had i o do with quite a changed man—a man as inlike the old easily yielding Vane Tempest is ifc is possible to imagine. i Looking pale and stern in his black 1 ilothes, he reached '.he Grange late in the £ ifternoon, and inquired of the butler, who c omehow seemed even moredeferential to the J Sari of Westloigh than he had been to Mr. * /ane Tempest, for Lady Florence. * "Her ladyship isn't in, my lord," he j laid ; and he conducted Vane to the ' ibrary. # 1 Lord Warlock was sitting on his chair, < ,vith his leg bandaged and up on a rest. "Well," he growled, "back already? Don't come near me. Yes, I've got it, got ,b badly, and it would be a devil of a ' strange thing if I hadn't, with all this fuss J md bother. { " Where is Florence ?" asked Vane, leaning against tho mantelshelf. ' He looked tired and worn, and he asked I the question in the manner and tone of a ( man bent upon discharging a solemn duty at any and every cost. Lord Warlock swore. "Florence? Heaven knows! On the road to Algiers, I beliove. She went oft the morning after the wedding-day, alone ■ with her maid, and with no explanation excepting that she felt that if she didn't got ! out of England she should die—" " What"l" " You may well look surprised. Perhaps a note she left for you may explain her conduct. It's there on the mantelshelf— don't, for Heaven's sake, touch me I" Vane reached for tho note, and found two instead of one. " There are two," he said. "Yes," said the earl, "tho other came yesterday ; a groom brought it. What does she say ?" Vane opened the note in Lady Florence's handwriting. It was as short as it was significant. "I have left England. Our marriage can never take place. You asked me to releaso you, and like a fool I refused. Since you have gone I have become wiser. Take your freedom. This is my last word." Vane handed the note to Lord Warlock. " What does it mean ?" he asked. Lord Warlock shook his head and swore again ; ho was one of the old Tory noblemen who used the language of his forefathers. " How the devil should I know ? Bub if Florence savs this she means it." "I must follow her and learn what she does moan," said Vane. Lord Warlock smiled grimly. "All right," he said. "Better go at once, thou ; bub, upon my soul, if you are a wise man you will go to Westleigh and look after your affairs ; for if Florence says she won't marry you, she won't, and there's | an end of it. I've never succeeded in making her change her mind, and- with all deference, I'm hanged if I think you will. She has always been her own mistress, and no one has ever ventured to interfere with her. Take my advice and don't try it." While he had been speaking Vane had opened the other envelope. It contained a sheet of paper with these words : — " A young lady wishes to see you at Vale Hall." That was all; no date, no signature. The blood rushed to his face, and he stared at the note, all confused. Could ib be from Nora ? His heart leaped. No ; ib was in a sharp, angular, practiced hand ; ib was nob from her. Had she asked anyone to writ© for her ? The thought, the hope, sent the blood dancing through his veins like fire. The old earl watched him. "What is it 5" he asked, irritably. "Lord! how I hate all this fuss and mystery! There! don'b tell me. The doctor sayt. I'm nob to be worried, and, by Heaven, I won't bo I Go and drew for dinner." ' Vane shook his head. It was in a whirl. " I can't stop," he said; "Imuab go;" and before he had finished the sentence he had left the room. The old man rang the bell furiously. " Send my roan here," he shouted; " and if you lob anyone else come near me till I give you permission, I'll— discharge every servant in the house I" With tho note in his hand, Vane hurried to the stables. «' Let me have the best horse you gob," i he said, briefly, " and as quickly aa you cam" . •'.. They saddled a fast hunter for him, and in a very few minutes he was on the road to Vale Hall. Ho did not know what to think, what to expect. The handwriting of the note was Btrange to him ; it explained nothing. Bub Nora lived at Vale Hall, and that was sufficient for bin; He did not spare the horse, bub ib was dark when he rode up the avenue in which, on his first visib, Reuben Vale had been hedge-clipping. When he flung the reins to a groom ab the wide entrance, he saw, through the open doorway, a pile of boxes and packing-cases. His hearb beat, half with fear, half with hope, as he stood amid the confusion and waited for his name to be sent in. Presently a door opened, and a young girl whose hair fell in a profusion or curls round her face came toward him, leaning upon a maid's arm. She sunk on to one of the boxes, and looked at him with profound scrutiny, which gradually changed to an expression of satisfaction. " You are Mr. Vane Tempest—l mean the Earl of Westleigh?" she said, just when Vane had decided she would never apeak.

"I am," he said, in his musical voice,' slightly tremulous and impatient; "and you " I'm Milly Lefltor/'Bdid Milly; " Nora'a friend, you know," and ihe nodded shrewdly. I , Vane took her hand and wrung it, and. kept it. " How—how is she ?" he stammered. " Very bad— Oh, don't be frightened. I mean obstinate. But so am I. Two can play at that game. That's why I wrote." "You wrote this note?" he said, displaying it. • Milly nodded again. "Of course. I'm glad you've come. You were nearly too late." " Too late 1" " Yes. We are just starting for London — the Continent, for years—for ever—" Vane uttered an exclamation. "Where is she?" he demanded, impatiently. Milly eyed him with increased satisfaction. Yes, he was nob only handsome and every inch a lord, but evidently passionately in love. " Out in the garden picking flowers to take with her to remind her of the old place," she said. " That is, she is supposed to be picking flowers—in the dark—but she is really fretting." ' He made a movement as if he intended rushing off to pick flowers also, bub Milly's thin hand detained him. ' i " She is very firm—obstinate." " So am I," he said, grimly. Milly shook her head. " She's worse than you, I think," she said. " Mr. Tempest—l mean Lord Westleigh— I'd made up my mind not to tell you, but— Answer me one question : Do you love Nora?" He looked at her and laughed desperately. " And you want her very badly ?" asked Milly, with child-like gravity. "I mean to have her," he responded, still more grimly. "It's a free country," said Milly, still holding him. " She'll send you about your business, unless—" she paused. "Unless what?" " Mr. Tempest— bother ! I mean Lord Westleigh— you know anything of the Scotch marriage law ?" He stared at her as if he thought she had suddenly taken leave of her senses. "Do I—Scotch marriage law ? What do you mean ?" . "Do you know that if a man, in the resence of witnesses, declares that a oman is his wife, and she admits it, they re man and wife, legally married, quite jgally married ?" Vane, as has been remarked several times 1 the course of'this veracious history, was ob overburdened with brains, and he contimed to stare at Milly's strained little face )r some moments in silence. Then, uddenly, the blood mounted to his face, nd his eyes began to flash. "Do you moan—is that so ?" he gasped. Milly nodded. " Yos. My father's a lawyer, one of the lever ones. It is so. He says it, and—" Vane caught her in his arms and lifted ier bodily from the packing-case. «< Ynn—vou dear, sweet child !" he cried,

,nd kissed her. * Then he rushed off and disappeared \ hrough the garden door, and Milly, half $ ngry, half laughing, sunk back, murmur- i ng: . " I don't wonder at Nora's loving him. Vane rushed into the garden as if he { ?ero in search of burglars. For a moment f ie saw nothing presently ho caught a f tlimpse of a figure at the edge of, and just ( iisappcaring in, the shrubbery. A moon ( vis shining, and it showed him that the igure was Nora's. He ran toward it, and tood before her with outstretched arms. , she shrunk back and almost dropped the >unch of flowers, and regarded him as one ( egards a—well-loved and much to be ] lesired—ghost. , Nora! , "Vane!" , ,„ . He looked at her. The moonlight fell ( ipon a very different yet the same— i Nora to that which he had seen at the end if the bridge at the Witches' Cauldron, rhat was a half-wild girl, with hair flying oosolv in the breeze, with uncouth though jraceful gestures ; this was a refined and jlegant woman—though still in her girlhood —whose beauty had developed and become perfect, whose eyes shone with a light in which dignity and sweetness were combined like some exquisite harmony in music. A.s his gaze rested on her, his love for her— ■tnd, yes, his pride in her—swelled within him. She was a queen of loveliness and ?raco, and she was his—his very own ! ««why— have you come ?" she faltered. "I have come for you," he responded. She shook her head. " No, Vane—not for me. There is another —Lady Florence." "There is no Lady Florence in that sense,"he retorted. "lb isyou for whom I have come. Come to me, Nora." She held back. " I am going away," she said, with her head drooping, her hands clasped over the flowers. "I am going away for a long time, Vane." . " All right," he said, cheerfully, but with a fierce, feverish kind of repression. " You must forget me, Vane. lam not fit to—to— The bears came into her eyes. " In-deed!" ho said, with the same repression in his voice, his manner. "No; you—you must forget that—that you ever rueb me." "Yes?" , , " Yes ; and— Will you nob como back to the house ?I am sorry—oh, Jam sorry that you have come 1" •« I'm not," he said. " Yes, we'll go back to the house, Nora. Will you take my arm T" She shook her head and moved away from him slightly. She would nob yield an inch, she told herself. He walked beside her in silence—a strange silence—into the hall, and she was making her way toward the drawing-room, when Mr. Lester and Milly came out. "How do you do, Lord.Westleigh?" he Vane shook him by the hand cordially, and Mora clutched Mr. Lester's arm. " Oh, tell him that—that it is of no use 1" she urged. "Tell him to— go away; that I am going away." She leaned her forehead on Mr. Lester's arm. " What's that said Vane. " She said she is going away." " She is quite right," said Vane, with a fire flickering in his eyes. " She ia going away ; going up to London—with me. We are going together." Nora raised her head and look ab him with a kind of amazement at hie audacity. •' Oh, no, no !" "I beg your pardon ; it is oh, yes, yes !" he said, in exactly the same manner. " I am quite ready when you are. Run and geb your things on." Then his fiercely playful tone broke down ; he strode forward and caught her by the waist and pressed hor to him, and kissed her passionately and in a masterly way that made Milly's eyes grow like saucers. " What 1" he exclaimed, and his old tones rang in his voice, you talk of leaving me I Why, I forbid ib I A wife should nob desert) her husband J" With a sharp cry Nora hid hor face on his breast, and, as "it were, yielded all in a moment, his strong arms surrounding her like a fortress in which she was seoure against all the shaftß and arrows in the world. «*Oh, papa, papa ! isn't he delicious ? isn't he simply fo-vely ?" exclaimed Milly, with j bears of ecstatic delight in her voice as well as her eyes. •'Let us come away. There was another—a proper wedding, as Milly called ib, though a very, very quiet one, a few days later. It took place in an out-of-the-way church in London, and there were only present, beside the bride and bridegroom, Mr. Milly, and the pew-opener. The clergyman was an exceedingly nice old gentleman, one who would have considered it quite wicked to forgeb the little joke about the ide signing her name for the lasb time bub he was exceedingly astonished when be saw that, obeying her husband's orders, she had signed nob only Nora Vale, "bub Nora Tempest." "Why, how is this, my dear lady?" he asked, blinking ab the signatures. , • • Are these all your Christian names—or—or what is your surname?" ' '- Nora blushed and hung her head, and Vane, with her hand upon his arm, explained : " She has two, fir. We were married in Scotch fashion some months ago, bub we wished also to be married in the usual English way;" and he explained to the old gentleman. :; "■''■■'■■■ -\ "■■"■■ >M

" Dear, dear me !" he said. "Tab, tafc 1 - , How remarkable! But you have dona quite right. Oh, yes ! you were man and wife safely enough,'for the Scotch marriage v is as binding. It is shameful that lb should be—oh ! I'm sure, I beg your pardon—but it is shameful, and this is the only case to my knowledge in which the strange law or custom has been of distinct service. All ' '~ "' the same, I am glad you are properly ;. married, and"—he smiled— not sur- ;' prised, my lord, that you should be anxious ;|' to have a double set of chains to bind yoi to so beautiful and charming a bride." \ J v [To be continued.] •'*' «.'■:. ■• On Saturday, July 1, the opening chap* ;' tors of a new and emotional story, by a T popular author, will bo published to the New Zealand Herald.