CHAPTER LI.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, 3 December 1887, Page 2

CHAPTER LI.

LONDON AND PARIS. Arc wo not one ? Aro we not joined by Hcav'n ? Each interwoven with tf c other's fate? Aio we not mixed, like streams of meeting river , Whose blended watcie aro no more distinguished, But roll into the sea, one common flood ? Oi'R friends were blessed with an unusuallyswift and pleasant passage across the ocean. On the night of the seventh day out from New York their steamer anchored near the beautiful Cove of Cork, and the following night they entered tho Mersey and landed in Liverpool at night. They spent the subsequent days in sight-seeing, and on Monday took the express train to London, and arrived on the afternoon of the same day. Gertrude was never weary of gazing at the magnificent buildings and splendid shops. But when once they reached the Tower and passed under the ancient gateway, Gertrude fell into a trance-like reverie, in which she but faintly heard the voice of the old " Beef -Eater " guide, as he attempted to tell tho story of each suit of armour or stack of weapons in the White Tower, or of each dungeon in the "Little Hell," each tomb of the headless skeletons under the chancel of St. Peter's ghastly chapel ; but she saw processions of the tyrants and their victims, all who had lived and sinned or suffered on that haunted ground. She fell into a dream in the prison of Sir Walter Raleigh, and afterwards almost lost consciousness and identity while standing on tho Tower Green and gazing down upon the white stone Rlab that marks the execution place of Anne Boleyn and all the royal and noble women who afterwards fell by the headman's axe. Other groups of tourists were "doing" the Tower at the same time, and theso were eloquent in expressing what they thought and felt, or what they supposed they ought to think and feel, in such exclamations as "How magnificent!" "How splendid!" " How awful 1" " How interesting !" " Isn't it horrid ?" "It makes one's flesh creop !" Gertrude never opened her lips, but dreamed on and on through the deepest, darkest corridors of that haunted, horrible tomb and monument of past magnificence and cruelty. In the ovening they wore joined by Dr. Goodwin, whose countenance betrayed disappointment before his speech revealed it. "I sco that you have not succeeded in your search," said Gertrude. "No; I went to Islington and found Goldsmith-street and Gilpin Terraco, the

iddress of the man who, thirty years ago, tept the private hospital. But, bless you, ihore.was no trace of a hospital within Miles of the place. The site once occupied oy the doctor's nursery was now covered by x largo modern building used as a boys' board-school, that had been in full blast for twenty years. The master, to whom I introduced myself, and to whom I told a discreet portion of my business, had never heard of the hospital or the doctor. He had leased the premises he occupied as a school, and knew nothing about its antecedents." "Nor anyone el&e in the neighbourhood^ I suppose?" interjected Gerald. " Nor did anyone else in the neighbourhood," admitted the doctor. " 1 inquired of the baker, the grocer, the chemist, and the oldest inhabitant, without success. Thirty years makeb a difference in a neighbourhood. But I shall go there again tomorrow. After dinner the good doctor went to pa-s the evening at the Polytechnic, and Colonel Fitzgerald took Gertrude to Drnry Lane theatre to see Kean im " Macbeth." For the next three hours Gertrude lived an enchanted life. She did not see a wellacled tragedy, she saw what was, to her, an awful reality, miraculously conjured up from the darkness of the past. The remaining days in the week were spent in a similar manner. On Monday before starting for Paris, they took leave of Dr. Goodwin, entreating him to sparo no expense in prosecuting his search for Gabiiel Haddon's lost daughter, a search that had hitherto been quite fruitless. The newly-married pair reached Paris in the height of tho season. Through our minister there they were presented at Court and introduced to the best society. But Gerald Fitzgerald himself never knew how really elegant as well as beautiful his little lady was until he saw her aitistically dressed by a, Fieuch modiste. They spent two months in Paris, seeing everything really worth seeing, and going much into society, where the delicate beauty, native refinement, and quiet grace of our little mountain giil enabled her to pass* well even among the queens of fashion. Gerald was almost proud of his " little love." And Gertrude was very happy, with only one instinctive doubt and dread of the future, that found its expression in the half-breathed prayer : " Oh, I hope — 1 pray that we may never, never meet Geialdine again." Ah, poor child ! It was the last week of their stay in I'ai it. She had received an imitation to a ball at ihe Tuileries. She did not really wi-h to go, because she could neither dance nor waltz in the fashionable style ; and beinc yowng and beautiful, it seemed awkwaul and eccentric to sit and look on all the evening. She did not w ish to go, but she made no objection, because she knew it suited Gerald to have his Aufe appear there, and he had forgotten or ne\er reflected that had no accomplishments that would enable her to take pait in the gaieties of the evenins- . . When she left her dressing-room to ]oin her husband, previous to entering their carriage to drive to the palace, she raised her eye*- timidly to his to read in the expression of his face whether he was pleased her appearance. lie answered her mute appeal by a smile of delight, as he diew her to his. breast and kissed her, murmuring 1 : " You are a living poem, my little loac."' Her meek face grew radiant as the iace ol a child who has succeeded m pleasing some one it loves. But the next instant a shadow fell upon it as she thought : " I am afraid to be <>o happy. Oh, I hope, I pray he may never, n< rcr meet Geialdine again ! q Was it a presentiment V Was it that "forthcoming events cast their shadows before ?" Who could tell ? Gerald did nob notice the sudden change in her face. He drew her hand through hi« arm and led her to the carriage, and they drove to the palace. The Tuileries was illuminated that night like a fairy palace. And, great as the crowd was, theie wa« not the least huny 01 confusion; everything Mas conducted and managed with the most pcrfoct older and ease. Gerald, with Gertrude on his arm, walked from one scene of dazzling splendour te another, until they reached the gieat hall where the dancing had already commenced. There they stood together for a whilCj looking on the dancers. While standing thus they overheard a conversation. Though it was carried on in French, Gertrude, who, you know, was a good linguist, understood every word. "The last new—" was the first fragment chat met her ears. "Who is she, then?" inquired a second voice. " She is a young foreign lady,'' replied the first voice. " And her name is — "' " Feese-gerall. Yes ! Feese-geiall. That is it — Feese-gerall. " Gertrude winced, and shrank closer to the side of her husband. Poor child ! she was afraid that they were talking of her. Gerald grew still as death, and listened intently. The murmured conversation went on. " Where is she, then ? Who brings her here ? Let us see this new wonder of the world." " She is the guest of Madame la Baronne de La Valette. They say she is about to be betrothed to Monsieur le Marquise d'Ue. However that may be, she — la belle Feesegerall — is the most beautiful woman that has appeared in Paris since the advent of her imperial majesty the Empress Eugenie," said the last speaker, as the two moved away from the spot. Gertrude knew now that they were not talking of her. "Did you hear them, Gerald?" ehe whispered. "Yes, dear; I did?" " They mentioned some one of our name. Whom do you suppose they meant ?" "I do not know, my dear; probably some English or Irish lady of that name. My dear Gertrude, the Fitzgeralds are a widely -spread tribe, to bo found in all parts of the world and in every grade of society. There is the Fitzgerald who is tbe Duke of Leinster. There are other Fitzgeralds who are breaking stones in the streets, or serving put terms of imprisonment in the penitentiary — all equally our cousins, my dear — the Gherardini of Tuscany, who went filibustering into Ireland somewhere about the eighth century, and thence spread like horse-radish all over the surface of tho earth. This lovely guest of Madame La Valette's is probably one of the beautiful Irish Fitzgeralds." Gertrude said no more. For a few moments nothing was hoard but the music, and nothing seen but the dancers. When the quadrilles were over Gerald drew his little lady's arm within his own, and led her back through all the splendid rooms of the suite to the grand drawingroom, which was sparsely filled with gucsta, and where she sat down. There some of Gerald's acquaintances found them out. They discussed the new beauty, among other subjects of conversation ; but no one seemed to know exactly who she was, though all agreed .she was the "sensation " of tho evening.

At length a French lady, a Madame Flores, who had joined the group, speaking with authority, declared that the new beauty was a young Irish girl, a niece of the Duke of Leinster, and a near relative of the Earl of Clarendon, with whose countess she had just come to Paris. When Gertrude heard this she breathe more freely. The music of a beautiful waltz eara-n floating softly on the air from the dandhkfc hall. The couples paired off, and Colonel Fitxgcrald and Gertrude were left alone on the sofa. • ' Come, let us promenade awhile through these magnificent and splendid halls, thai) remind us of nothing so much as of the fabulous descriptions of Oriental palaces in the Arabian Nights' Entertainments," said Colonel Fitzgerald, as he arose and offered his arm to his "little lady." "Indeed, that is true of me," said Gertrude, with a smile. "'Ever since I left Wilde county with you, Gerald, I har^ teemed to be living in a dream, or in a fair/ tale. When I think of the ferry and thy boats, and my old waterproof cloak an-i lantern, and then look around on this scene, which might be a palace in the sun, and on myself, with this beautiful dress and the^e costly jewels you have given me, I am reminded of Cinderella at the prince's ball, and I a'moht expect, when the clock .strikes twehe, to find myselt— not barefooted and in tatters, at least in my old waterproof, with the lantern in my hand- goinar down, to the boat to fetch, some tiaveller across the river. Are you quite sure it will nob end so, my prince ?" she inquiied. Fitzjrei aid laughed, and pressed her arm as he answered : "You absurd little Cinderella, the clock has alicady struck twelve, and you aie not) changed. You arc safe for to-night. And now, as you are never to go back to than old life, try to forget it, my little lady. I « ill <lo all I can to make yon foi get iC, for X lo\ c you, my little love — I love you !" She could not answer, except by a grateful worshipping look. "Oh, how good he is to me !*'she thought — " how good he is to me ! Oh, how happy we are now ! How thankful Tarn ! I hope w o may alu ays be so. Jf only Geraldine never crossed our pith ! Oh, I pray, I ■pycuj that we may never meet her !" Suddenly, while the-c thoughts were passing thiough her mind, a shadow fell upon hoi spirit -a dark vision evolved itself from the shadow. She saw herself—waterpi oof cloak, lantern, and all, on duty at the boat-hou&c. " I bhall go back to the ferry/ she murmured to hertolr. "I do not know when, or why, but all this will change, and I shall go back to live at the ferry." She shuddered, so that Fit/.gerald turned and f>aid : " You are chilly, dear. Let me take you into the next room. There seems to be a draught here." ife led her on to the next hall in the gorgeous .suite, beyond -which was thss anoing-hall. They went near the lattet and sat down. Again they overheard !» murmured conversation, the subject >" which was the new beauty A^hose debut] $ Parisian ciiclcs had cieated such a serfa tion. Indeed, this wonder seemed to dn ic"e> conversation with the Spanish succession and the German diplomacy. " She is mo-t certainly a superb woman She has eclipsed tho most brilliant belles of the season ! The men are all infatuated with her ; the women are all furious," said one voice. "But where is this master-piece of nature, this mar\el of beauty? I have been trying to sec her all the evening, and have not caught a glimpse of her yet," said the second voice. " Wait here. She is waltzing with the Prince Napoleon. Wait hero until tho dance in over, and the dancers all come out this way. You will ?ec her then on the arm of her royal admit cr," answered tho voice. And then the speakers moved away and stood near the entiance of the dancinghall. " Wl shall see this wondrous beauty, too, Gerald. Would you not like to see her 2" softly inquired Gertrude. " If she is one of our Irish cousins, yes," leplied Fitzgerald ; but we shall see other equally interesting people. They will all pa-5 us in leaving the ball-room." At that moment the music ceased, and a general movement among the dancers announced that they were coming out of tho hall. "Stand a little back, my child, and T will tell you their names as they enter," said Fitzgerald, w ithdrawiug his little lady a few stops back. " Princess Mathilde and Prince Edward of Saxo Weimar," he murmured, as the first) couple passed. " Princess Metternich and tho Russian Minister," he continntd, as the second couple passed. Meanwhile, our little dreaming Cinderella gazed as in a vision, as these splendidly,--arrayed royal dames passed, eofih) om the* arm of her illustrious escort. "Prince- Jerome and Madame- tfe la> Valette. Prince Napoleon and — " Geraldine Fitzgerald, in all her- imperial? beauty and magnificence, advancing*. {To be Qonli nued.)