CHAPTER VII. INTRIGUE AND JEALOUS?.

Taranaki Herald, Volume XXI, Issue 2107, 14 June 1873, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER VII. INTRIGUE AND JEALOUS?.

The minutes passed, and Lord Chetwynd did not appear in response to the summons of his young wife. A party of friends had arrived at tho Park, aud he was so engaged with them that the butler, to whom the chattering Fifine had transmitted her message, dared not interrupt him. The youthful Marchioness paced her floor impotuously. glancing continuously aud impatiently al Hi o little Sevres clock on the low" mantel. Hor sonl seemed on fire. A strange consuming jealousy possessed her. The thought that her husband, whose love was hor life, had loved Miss Monk, had been betrothed to her, and had been bound in honor to marry her, was gall and wormwood to poor, proud young Bernico. "Ho lovod her first," sho thought. "Ho may love her still. If he ever loved her once he loves her still. Ho abandoned her for me in piquo at her for some fancied or real grievance, but his heart will go back to hor. How handsome sho is ! I don't blamo Roy for loving her, but what shall Ido when he tires of me ? Oh, I can nover be an unloved wife — never, never ! Better death." Sho quickoned her impetuous tread, her faco pale, hor eyes burning. Her life at St. Kilda had been so peaceful, so quiet, so monotonous, that her emotions had heretofore beon thoso of a child. Now passions she had not dreamed that she possessed awoko within her, springing to life full grown and armed, lrko Minerva. She was frightoned at herself. But as the minutes still wore on, and the Marquis did not come, the impetuous young wife grew calmer. Now thoughts crowded in upon her. " If I have won my husband I can keep him," she said to herself proudly. "Even if this story from the servants' hall be true, lam weak and foolish to heed it. I must respect myself too much to even hearken to kitchen gossip, and indeed I did not hearken to it. I should bo ashamed to tell Roy what I have heard — ashamed to question him upon such a subject. If he ever loved Miss Monk, he is too honorablo to give a thought to her now. I can rest upon my husband's love as upon a sure support, He will not fail mo." Tho thought was like oil upon the troubled waters. She was herself again, bright and aweet as a sunbeam, when Lord Chetwynd's tread rang through the hall and tho young lord entered her rooms. Bernico ran to meet him with a kiss. " Ab, my radiant little bride !" said the young husband, with lover fonclnoss. " I am sorry that I could not come to you before, but I was detained by old friends. Sylvia has made a state dinner party for us, and the guests are already arriving. I must dress immediately. This is to be a grand fete in your honor, little wife. Sylvia has done her best to give your arrival eclat. And how do you like your new sister, Bernice ?" " She is very handsome," said Bernice, flushing, " and I admire her and liko her. Why, she looks like some Eastern queen. I—lI — I wonder, Roy, that you did not marry her instead of me." The Marquis laughed lightly. The remark had no significance to him, and ho did not reply to it savo by a caress. " Roy," exclaimed the young wife, with a passionate thrill in her clear sweet voice, " you love me, do you not, bettor than all the world ?" " Better than all the world," he an- ] swered, folding her slender, white-robed figure to him. " You are to me the most bcautifnl woman in the world, Bernice, tho best, the sweetest, theloveliest ! There, have I mado you any happier, little wife ? You must never doubt my love. I could not bear distrust from you. And now I must dress. We will presently go down together." Bernice slid from his arms in a flutter of happiness, and Lord Chotwyud went to his dressing-room. The young wifo was completely reassured. All her doubts and suspicions had vanished. She sung softly to herself as she stood at the window and watched the line of carriages driving up the avenue, and there was a proud and tender sweetness on her patrician face that was better far than mere beauty of form and colouring. Lord Chetwynd rejoined her in due time, in full dinner dross. "I almost fear that this is to bo a severe ordeal for you, Bernice," he said half anxiously. " I wish now that I had deferred all this publicity and dinner-giving until you should have become better used to English life. And yot I need not fear that you will fail in solf-possessionand graceful oaso. I have not seen my little island girl orabarraased yet. Ido not know whether you most surprlso or delight me, Bernico.

At your ago, gMsare scarcely out of ths nursery in JEnglud, but you seem likoona used to society. 1 _ " Tho reason s very simple," said Bernico, smiling. ■I do not think of myself, Roy. I forgot hit there is such a person as Bernice Chelwyud, and I do think of others and desi-e to please and interest them. That's tio whole secret of my selfpossession, and i's very simple, you see. But our guests a'e arriving. Ought we not to go down " The Marquis assented, and offered his bride his arm, aid they descended to 'the drawing-room. Sylvia Monk and her brother were already there, andwero engaged in receiving the guests. Beth expected tho young island girl to exlibit a large degroeof cmbarrasmout and awkwardness, but both were disappointed. It is quite possible that Miss Monk had planned the diiuos? party with tho idea and hope that Bcrnice, by her timidity and awkwardness would annoy and anger the Marquis, but this hope was doumod lv L»u CUoap^oioiiod: Bernico had a natural tact, that stood to hor in place of knowledge. She had not the courage and address of p. woman of the world, not the practised knowledge of a woman of society, but sbo was quickwitted and observant, and graceful and refined and self-forgetful, and I'uo h-si* characteristic was worth pevhap3 as much as all tho others together. In short, her first appearance in society was a snecoss, and her husband was proud of her. She took her place naturally r.s tha mistress of Chetwynd Park. If she made any mistakes, her guests were too polite to notice them. No ono thought her a beauty, but more than one pair of practised eyes Baw the possibility of beauty in her proud dark face lighted up by hor brilliant eyes. Tho wonderful fascination, of hey manner which had so charmed Lord Chetwynd was felt by her guests. And yet Bornice did not make many friends upon that first evening in her own home. The reason was simple. The impression had gone forth that Lord Chetwynd had not behaved well toward Miss Monk, with whom his engagement of marriago had been publicly known. It was believed that he had jilted Sylvia Monk for this unknown girl, and the sympathy in Miss Monk's favor was strong and intense, while a certain coolness was oxhibited'toward the newly married pah*. The dinner was eaten in great state in the grand old dining hall, and the- ladies returned to the drawing-room, leaving the gentlemen to the wine. Bernice became the centre of a little group of listenors, to whom she gave, in answer to inquiries, some information concerning the island on which she had always lived, and gavo it in a charmiug, unaffected way that began to win for her kindly feeling. Other ladies grouped themselves at the windows, in the music-room and conservatory, all awaiting the return of the gentlemen. Sylvia Monk stood alone in a recessed window, pale, savo in hor cheeks, with burning eyes and restless heart. She was full of bitterness aud hidden rage, ovoa ; while a stereotyped smile was on her lips. She summoned a conventional expression to her countenance as Lady Welby, the wife of an Earl, a leader of fashion, and a pi'ominent personage in county society, approached her, and said : "My dear Miss Monk, what a number of agreeable people you -have summoned together to welcome Lord Chefcwyncl and his bride, and all old family friends, too ! By tho by, Lady Chetwynd is not so beautiful as I expected to find her. She is a mere girl, a child yet, as one might say. •I do not exactly understand who she is. Mr. Monk tells me that she is the adopted daughter of tho minister of St. Kilda. Bufc who is she herself ? lam dying to know. Thore is something so aristocratic about her that I am persuaded sho is of noble birth." " That grand manner is a gift of eccentric naturo," said Miss Monk, wiLh a slow smile. " Dear Lady Chptwynd is not of noblo birth, Lady Wclbj-, unless her father was one of ' Nature's noblemen ?' Her history is delightfully romautic. I am nof- quite sure, but T believe that she is tho daughter of a fisher of St. Kilda, or it may be that her father was a fowler ; but at any rate the minister of St. Kilda, a solemn Welshman of extreme poverty but great benevolencce, took pity upon her, adopted her,- aud trained and educated her with what success you can see for yourself." " What a charming history !" said Lady Welby, shrugging her shoulders. "So romantic ! Lady Chetwynd is • certainly highly bred, and would do honor to noble parentage, but I did not approve of the leveling tendencies of the present day. Such wide differences of rank between husband and wife are provocative of wider differences of taste, habit and feeling. I hopo our young friends will be happy, but I cannot holp but foel that Lord Chetwynd has been reckless even to madness." Her ladyship made no allusion, of com'se to Miss Monk's disappointment, but presently sauntered away to join a group of friends. Before the gentlemen came up from dinner, ft was generally understood among* tho ladies that their hostess wag of lowly birth, that " she bad been raised from the very dregs of society, from the lowest round of the great scale of humanity ," and more than ono birth-proud dame became highly indignant that such a " crea* ture" should have beon imposed upon Sussex society, and lamented the utter impossibility of turning the cold Bb.ou.lder upon tho Marchioness of Chetwynd. Notwithstanding all this under current of hostile feeling, the young bride enjoyed her first experience of society. The

gentlemen appeared, aud all beoame animation. After- a little, tie fireworks were displayed, and tho visors wont out upon the terrace. The biantry wero dancing 1 on the lawn belov under the light of colored Chinese Ijnterns, and Bornice fancied that the acme was liko one out of fairy-land. " I feel like ono in a 3ream," she thought, "or liko the litfa old woman with tho pig. *If this bo I'— if this Lady Chctwynd, in whoso honor dl this light aud dancing and gaiety is, is the little Bernico of St. Kilda, it is a wonderful transformation. I am afraid Ishall awaken presently, and hear the Atlutic surf roaring and moaning: against tie rocks, and hear the Gaelic tongue spolsn by coarse voices, instead of theso soft and cultured voicos in the gentler Englisi speech." The evening passed, ns even tho happiest eroning will. Tho guests departed one br one, or in groups. The tenautry wont away when tho fireworks ceased and the lanterns burned low. Tho revelry was over at last, and Lord and Lady Cbftfcwynd, Mr':'- bud Miss Muiih, ami Mr. Sanders the bailiff, were alone left in the drawingroom. Mr. Sanders was a gentleman by birth and education, as wo havo said, a grayhaired, keen-eyed, shrewd and sensible man, who maintained a handsome establishment of bis own in a villa upon the Chetwyrfd estate, and who had a very good position among the gentry of the neighborhood. He was devoted to tho interests of the family he served, and was Lord Chetwynd's confidential friend and adviser in matters of business. He engaged the Marquis in conversation upon some point of special interest to the two. Miss Monk, with a weary air, said good-night, and x'etired to her room. Mr. Monk followed her example. Bernice was longing for a little confidential talk with her husband, intending to tell him of her recent spasm of jealousy, at which she was now ready to smile, but she had not yet opportunity, and reluctantly stole away to her own apartments. The Marquis talked with Mr. Saunders a half-hour or more, and the bailiff then took his leave. His lordship remained seated before the fire in the little rose parlor, to which he had withdrawn with his bailiff. There was no glare of lights here, no empty breadths of space. The room was octagon Bhaped, and the walls were hung with fluted silk of pale rose tint. The furniture was upholstered in pink satin. The carpet of pink velvet, without admixture of other color except a gleam of gold in tho bordering. The curtains of misty lace were looped with rose-tinted tassels. There was a fire in the grate, and Lord Chetwynd put up his feet on the fender and leaned back his fair golden head upon the pink satin cushions of his chair. An ineffable contentment possessed him. A soft light filtered down through the pale tinted globes upon his blonde face, upon which a smile rested. He was on tho point of arising to rejoin his young wife in her boudoir, when the dool* opened, and with a soft rustling of garments Sylvia Monk swept toward him. He turned his head, and would have arisen, but shß glided forward with undulating rush and sat down on a hassock at his side, and laid one hand half shyly upon his knee, looking up at him with eyes in whose dull blackness was the red glimmer of an evil fire. " Spare me one moment, Roy," she said, with the soft caressing manner peculiar to her— r" only cmc moment before you go to ' her. I want to congratulate you upon your marriage, and to tell you how I already love this little Bernice of yours. She is very lovely, and not with the tame loveliness of our English girls. There is something gipsy-like and strange about her — she is so bright, so piquant, so impulsive." " I knew you would love her, Sylvia," exclaimed Lord Chetwynd affectionately. ' " I want you to be a dear sister to her, as you are to me. Your generous praise of her delights me. She is all yon say, and more. She has geniu3, and tho warm, fervid temperament that accompanies it. Bornico has a tropical nature, is a strange compound of fire and snow, I often think. She is full of innooent witchery. That •was a hard ordeal — tho ordeal she has passed throngh this evening — for a girl of her years, the harder because she bas never in aH her life mingled in any society. St. Kilda has a population of fishers and fowlers, you know, and Bernice was never in her life at a dinner party until to-night. I own to you that I was dismayed when I I learned that you had invited guests to dine. I had merely intended that tho bells should be rung jn honor of onr coming, and that the tenantry should be feasted, but I never even dreamed of subjecting my poor little girl to the trial of receiving and entertaining invited guests in the house. I j would not let her see how much I feared. I And yet how well she wont through it all ! A little silent perhaps, a little shy and quiet, but certainly at her ease, certainly self-possessed and graceful. I was surprised, pleased, aud proud of her, Sylvia." " I was also surprised," said Miss Monk, " but I supposed you wished me to invite guests to dine with us on your home-coming, Roy. I may have erred in more respects than one. Possibly I was not following the strict rules of Madam Grundy, but I meant all for the best. IJow you love her Roy J Can she appreciate this great love of your noble soul ? And, oh, dear Roy, it must cause you pain and anxiety sometimes to think of tho future. I can comprehend just how you feel," and Miss Monk clasped her jewelled hands upon his lordship's knee and looked up at him with sorrowful eyes, the ruddy waves of her velvet robe farflng about her, aud the tinted light

streaming upon her swarthy, handsonio faco. "I know all the misgivings you must havo, doar Hoy." " Misgivings ? I do not comprehend, Sylvia." " I moan the misgivings you must have when you think of the possibility that our dear littlo Bernico may find some ono whom she will lovo better than you," said tho wily Miss Monk, with a sorrowing tenderness. "I realise as you do that Bornice had never in her lifo scon a young gentleman until she saw you. By contrast with tho rudo fishors of hor native island, you must havo seemed a" demigod. Your handsomo faco, your becoming attire, your rank and wealth, all dazzled her. She had no opportunity to contrast you with other young men. You offerod her life in tho groat outsido world, and all the splendors of which sho had dreamed, and she accepted thorn and you witli ardent gratitude. And now you wonder in your heart — I know it by an instinct, Roy — you wonder if it is gratitude or lovo your young wifo feels for you ; you wonder if you may not I awaken by and by to tho knowledge that her first lover has not touched the deopest chords of her nature ; you wonder if somo time in tho yeai-s to coino sho may not meet somo ouo whom sho will lovo with womanhood's best and ripest affection. You see how I have read your soul, Roy. And I Bhare your misgivings and your fears." She drooped her head almost to his knee and her foce was hidden from him. Now no such misgivings had ever entered the mind of Lord Chetwynd, and Miss Monk was aware of tho fact, but her words had planted a sting in his breast that would rankle there. Tho misgivings of which Sylvia so artfully spoke sprung up within him at her bidding. His fair faco was very grave aud thoughtful, even as he answered : "It is true that I might have had such thoughts as these you describe, Sylvia, but I have not experienced them. There i may bo truth in what you fear, but Bernice is a loyal heart, and I do not fear that sho will ever regret our marriage. She loves me, Sylvia. I know that she loves me." " How ?" demanded Miss Monk, with sudden unrestraint, looking up at him with flaming eyes, and white convulsed features. " How ? With the baby love of seventeen — tho love of a child for her dolls ! What does she know of woman's passion, tho lovo that is madness, anguish, despair ?" " My dear Sylvia, what can you know of such love ?" "And you can ask me that, Roy?" cried Miss Monk wildly — "you who were my betrothed huband — you in whose hand your dying mother placed mine, and asked God's blessing on our union ? You can ask me what I know of love — you whose voice thrills mo like heaven's own music, whose smile stirs my soul to rapture — you whose lovo, O Heaven ! I flung from me in an idle passion, as if it had been a discarded toy ! You did love me, did you not, Roy ? You called me sweet names once. I have your letters still, and in them you call me darling. I had a right to love you, for you were my promised husband. And now— and now — you are married to another. I am the poor dependent, outcast from your love, and — don't speak to me— don't upbraid me, Roy — I have wrecked my own life, and I wish I . were dead I" Sho dropped her head now upon his knee, and sobbed in a very abandonment of despair. Lord Chetwynd's fair faco turned crimson. He glanced at the door in an agony of embarrassment. A pity almost divine for Sylvia Monk possessed him. He laid his hand on her black locks aud said softly : " I never dreamed of this, Sylvia. I beg you to command yourself. You will regret this scene to-morrow. I cannot bear to hear you sob like this — aud for I mp. Did you not mean it when you gave me back my promise ? But you need not answer mo. Say nothing 1 that may cause you pain hereafter, my poor, proud Sylvia. And I am so happy while you are miserable ! Sylvia, dear sister of Bernice and of mine, look up and tell me that you do not mean all your words have just implied." Miss Monk struggled with her agony, and won a superficial calmness, but when she upraised her faco tho Mai-quis could see that her suffering was real and terrible. She tottered slowly to her feet, fancying that she heard a light stop on tho stair. Sho moved away from tho Marquis, and tho came slowly back to him and seized his hand, crying : "Forgive me. Forgefr this scene. I shall hate myself for it always. I did not mean to betray mysolf liko this. As a token that you do not despise mo, Roy, give mo a brother's kiss. And from this , hour I will bo a true and tender sister to you and our sweet Bernico. Only one brother's kiss, Roy, and as a token that you do not despise me." The ears of hate are quicker than those of love. Miss Monk heard a gentle rustling at the door. She knew that Bernice had grown impatient, and was come to seek- her husband. And knowing this, sho drooped her head to Chetwynd's shoulder, and he, pitying her and admiring her for the sentiments last upon her lips, put his arm around her, and bending his face to hers, gave her what she had asked— a brothor's kiss. The door opened softly, and a little dusky head looked in, but was withdrawn upon the instant. Bernice had seen the embrace and kiss. Sho sped liko a littlo mad croature along the hall, up the stairs, and to her own room.

Sho had scai'cely vanished when Miss Monk, knowing and exulting 1 in the work she had accomplished, withdrew herself from Chotwynd's kindly clasp, and glided swiftly away liko a sorpont, going 1 up to her own room. Lord Chotwynd, amazed and disturbed, resumed his seat, murmuring- : " Poor girl ! Poor girl ! I have unconsciously wronged her, perhaps, by my marriage, but I love Bornice, and I cannot regret what I havo done. But Sylvia shall ahvny bo to mo a dear sister. I will forgot hor socrot. I will sparo her tho humiliation and Bornice the pain which both would feel were I to tell my tenderhearted wife. Poor Sylvia ! How nobly she spoke of Bornico, uttering 1 wishes for \ the happinoss that is built on hor misery. While I livo Sylvia shall bo to us as our own blood, as a sister in deed and in truth." When ho had grown able to dismiss all agitation from his manner, ho went up to his wifo's boudoir. Sho was not thore, and ho sought her in her dressing-x'oom and bed-chamber. Sho was in bed, hor face turned to the wall. Ho called to her i softly, and sho did not answer. Moving gently, not to disturb hoi', he also retired and was soon asleop. Thou the little Uoad on the lace-trimmed pillow at his side moved restlessly, and the dusky oyos opened in a expression of wild despair, and Bernice whispered under her breath : ; " It's all true then. He married me when he loved her all tho while. I shall not tell him I know it. Ho shall not ! know that ho has bi'oken my heart. I shall not live long, I know, and when I am gone bo can marry his boautifd Sylvia."

[to be continued.]