CHAPTER XI.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 183, 18 December 1886, Page 12

CHAPTER XI.

61 OUR LIVE*; HAVE Bi.fr V RUINED BY A LIL." Afilr a few day-;, Violet lost her terror lest Keith shculd come to her again and reproach her, echoing the ceaseless reproaches of her own heart And as she neither saw nor heaid anything of him, she began to wonder ■w here he was, and if he was very miserable. She thought she would like to ask his pardon, to console him, to touch his hand in kin Jdcss, aud Bay they would part as friend*. There is a beautiful painting, represent Ing a little daintily dressed child standing gazing at a mummy case, wherein a dead Pharoah had c lept for two thousand years. A similar bringing together of the living and the dead, of tho warm life of the nineteenth century, and that which has been death and uilence forages, might have been seen on a June, morning in Pere la 'Chaise Cemetery. Tiolet Leigh wa' standing be=ide the .great, dark tomb oi Abelard and Huloise. 2>fever had Violet lr-oked more girlish, more guileless, more sweet, than in that shadow of the tomb of the long dead lovers. Her little hand in it? pale kid glove T63ted on the daik stone, her delicate lace hat, with its clustered tea-roses, was bowed near thoee grim linages of death. Not a lird was singing nor a step was heard in the great cemetery, and in the sudden hueh Violet seemed the only living thing. No one elce was in sight ; the groom and maid had lingered in a broader sunlight. Violet eighed, A- an echo of her eigh a voice fell on her ear. "Violet— Lady L^igh !" It wa? Kenneth Keith ! She turned to him, and her eyes were full of tears.

" 1 am afr>iid I startle you— that I disturb you,"heeaid. " No," replied Violet, simply. " I wanted to see you Let us sit down on that bench. I was thinking that all one's troubles seem short, when they are looked back on, and that people could have courage to endure anything, when <hey consider that it will not last forever. I have made you unhappy by not trusting you, by thinking that you had forgotten me, and were untrue to all you had said. If I had only waited on and on, In trust, until wo met, then wo — you — might have been happy. But, you gee, I 1 had heard &o much of how false and forgetful people were, I thought you were, toe — and that explains me." This ingenuous, child-like, if stumbling • confeesion, went straight to Lord Keith's - heart, and aroused all his chivalrous tender- < ness for this Bweet young creature. "It was not your fault," he said, " we have both been victims of very -unhappy circumstances. If you will hear me, I would like to tell you my Bhare of our trouble in a few words." Violet dropped her eyes ; she did not speak, but her listening attitude consented. " When I met you »n Lincolnshire and loved you, I did not know that you were the greatest heiress of England. I only know that you emboidied my ideal — were as all the hope, joy, poetry of my lile, in ' one fair form. When I returned to Oxford I wrote, as we had agreed, again, and again. But, at the same time, I began to feel that all this manner of concealment of our love and correspondence was wrong. My « • chief wish was to marry you as soon

as you were of age to marry, and I saw that it was only honorable" and right to make my intontions known. Meanwhile X had no word from you, and I became miserably unhappy. My tutor was my cousin, a young curate, who now hae the living at Keith Castle. He was always my best Iriend, and seeing that I was unhappy he aakod my confidence, and I told him my story. Ho at once recognized you ac the heiress of the Ainelies, and he charged me to have done with all subterfuge, and write you boldly, to your grandmother's care, and bo prepared to explain to her my hopes and intentions. I did so and speedily received my letter to you, returned with one from your grandmother, declaring you already a3hamed of our folly, and amusing yourself ' with playing love with some other lad.' She also declared that ' with your full consent ' arrangmonte for you future lifo had already fcnen made by your family. " I wrote her a passionate letter, telling my love and my despair, and begging leave to come and plead my causa with you both, as I believed that you r. ally loved me. She wrote back, accusing mo of fortunehunting and deceitfulnees, and forbidding me to come to her home or again address any one undor roof ; conveyod me your farewells, saying that you • were sorry I cared for you, as you were only making believe.' 1 tried to bury my unhappiness in books, in hard study, thon in travol. ! My mother thought my molancholy camo from too haid work. 1 toM no ono but my cousin of my tioublo, and taking refuge in my pride, I foil into pilenco and absenco as a last means of forgetting. But 1 have never forgotten you, \ r iolot. I camo back from the East resolved to find you, and try again to win your love. And I see you — when it is forever too Into." Violet was sobbing bitterly. Keith's voice wn* broken vs ith emotion. "Oh, cruel, wicked woman, how could she bo so false to v? both ? ' cried Violet ; "I thought she lover] mo, and I loved hor ; but now I see that just as she never loved me, and she only cared for my property to keep it in the /\ ins-lie family." " And you did not get my lottors, nor sond such melanges ?" demanded Keith. " No, no, how could I ? I loved you." " Our lives have been ruined by a lie," cried Keith. " I waited and waited to hoar from you," said Violet. "I was so wiotched I could hardly live. Then I was routed up by that sudden death of my graudmother. She waa found dead in hor bed. id era was the only homo and care that I romembored. After that excitement I was taken to my uncle's. I could hardly toll, then, which part of my sorrow was for loss of my grandmother, for s.ho had always been very kind, only in that one thing, which I did not know, and which part was misery be cauFo you had forsaken me. I know it was a very dark, gloomy year, and people said I mourned my grandmother very deeply. By and by I began to brighton. I had so many pleasant things and kind friondf, and I determined never to think of you more. I brought all my pride up to disdain your desertion. I made up my mind novor to marry, for sinco you wero false, all men must be false." "Oh if you had only adhered to that resolve till you saw me, all would have gone well," groaned Kenneth Keith. "They urged mo so," said Violet, humbly. " Uncle Henry complained of the care and responsibility of my fortune, and Aunt Ainslie was always worrying about the care of guarding me, and about fortunehunters, and hinting that I should make a proper marriage for the sake of the girls, and that I would be in their way when they camo out. Finally they worried me into accepting Lord Leigh, after he had offered himself four or five times."

This recalled the honest-hearted Keith to a realization of their mutual relations. He eaid, with a start : " Violet, it is done. Our lives have been settled for us ; not as we would have them but as we mußt bear them. I hope Lord Leigh will make you happy as you deserve-" " I do not deserve anything but misery, since I was ao hasty in distrust, and allowed, myself to be talked into marriage. I did not know until I married how wild and wicked that was. But I shall not be happy > Lord Leigh doee not love me. I found only two hours after my marriage that be only married me for my fortune, and loved some one else." ! Lord Keith Btarted. But the utter innocence and simplicity of Violet's avowele roused all hia manhood. The fate of ' a women whom he passionately loved was at stake, He must help her. " Violet," be paid, gently, " you may be misjudging Leigb as you misjudged me. You have perhaps been trained to be suspicious. LJo not make up your mind to be unhappy. No man could see you daily and not love you. Leigh must love you. Try, try and be happy.my dear. I speak as a friend." "And will you be my friend." Paid Violet earnestly, lifting her guileleßß brown eyes, drowned in toars, to his face. " I should be glad to feel you do not hate and dispise me." 14 Oh, Violet, how could I hate and despise you !" 11 Easily. I hate and deßpise myself, I do not expect to be happy ; but I know it is always open to me f to be good and do good, and I mean to live for that." "Yes, yes ; and then you will grow into content and happiness." " And if you think you could be my friend. Jl that would make you more happy. I have read of great friends, and my grandmother had a very dear friend — old Count Solis, a refugee. I used to be so happy talking with you ! You remember, we liked the same things— books, flowers, pictures, music, all beautiful things ; and Lord Leigh does not care in the least for any of them. You shall be my friend, as Count Solis was my grandmother's and I will try to be a little happy with you." Poor Violet ! she did not realize the vast difference between her grandmother's stern

temperament and dignifiod age, and her own ardent, inexperienced youth, between Count Solie' whitened locks and Kenneth Keith's head ringed with sunny curls.