'THE BURIED LEGACY.'

Thames Star, Volume XXVI, Issue 8221, 9 December 1895, Page 1

'THE BURIED LEGACY.'

BY MES HAERIET LEWIS (Author of " A Double Life," Ac, Ac )

CHAPTER XIX.

(OonUntied)

Let alone, excited and anxioue, Hugh sat down trembling, and surveyed the room, Loping to glean from its adornments some clue to the character of its proprietress.

It was a pretty room, nearly square, and lighted by diamond-paned casement windows. There was a bright carpet on the floor, and white muslin curtains with deep frills at the window. A bright fire burned, and blazed on the hearth with a cheerful roating. In the walls were recessed bo ikeases well filled with standard works. A cottage piano, open, stood opposite the wmdows.-.r;^A'\little tabl*-, drawn up beaide a low eaayichair, stood near the fire, supporting a workbasket well filled with small flannel garments, intended, without doiibf, for p or children. > There were, in addition, a few well-chosen pictures,' and a little stand of house plants, luxuriant in leaf and house blossom. \ 'i

The room waa, in shortj library parlor, and sitting-room in one, nnd although exquisitely neat waa evidently in constant use. '

'•I see no grimness nor asceticism hero,' thought Hugh, anxiously. «Book?, music, sewing, audfliwera! This room would not be < unfitting, evea dainty, womanly Rosamond Wilchester. fcihe must have a warm heart dwpite all her wrongs—my poor mother! Will she receive me ? Will she own me ag her son on the proofs I have brought ?'. : H^ caught his breath quickly, hearing

'huar.^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H over his s>u^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^J sei. He fe t^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^f deadly, sickening^^^^^^^^^^^^^H mother might bo took^l^^^^^^^^^J He looked at her palerM^^^^^^H with a wild ai;d b; seeching every feature. • ... .. 'You wished fo see me s sir P^^^^M a voico, full of kindly pity. ' My^i^^ vaut cays tfrit you are wounded. Pray resume you seat.' Hugh dashed bis hand to his eyes, clearing away ibe miat that darkeued them, rind bent eager glances on the lady. • Yon are Mi«a Daane V he whispered. The lady bow. d. For a moment Hugh was silent, still gazing at her. He-boh eld a taH, slender, and graceful woman, bnautifnl after a grand typn, with n face at once noble and swtet, and with a regal dignity of hairing and gracioumess if mauner that would have be titled a quo- v. His wore a tr^iiiug dress of heavy black silk, with hce shading her throat and hfinds. Her waving hair of jetiy blackness w*s gathered into a coil high at the back of her head, after the fashion of to-day. Her black eyes, largp, velve.tly, and soulful, glowed softly under the shadow of her long lashes. Hugh's soul went out to her at that first look. All th-3 mysterious filial instincts that had slept in the depths of his being throughout; bis life awoke now and a.3~ sertei '.hem^elves. His mother ! This beautiful womiri 1113 mother ! This lovoly lady . the mother for whom he had all his. life yearned. It did not seem credible ! He took a step nearer to hr, his pale face becoming transfigured with his grc-atjoy. The lady seemed impressed by agitation, find sai^— ' My servant saidyou werea painter, I think. If there is anything I can do for yon, you may depend upon my willingness to do it. But first, Mr Chandos, your wound must beattended to. Sit down, and permit rae to iook at it.' ' I have something to say first,' said a Hugh, commanding himself by a j strong effort. 'I hardly knovy how to commence my statements. You are the Miss Deane who lived at Wi.lchester in her childhood—the Miss Deane who went-to school at Freiburg on the Rhine ?' ' I am tba* Miss Deane.' The Miss Deane whom Lord Paget Evremond loved and married ?' demanded our herv with increa^ing agitation. ' The Miss .Deane who is today, by every law human or divine, lady UerLrude Evrsmend?' Miss Deane retreated two or three paces, her face growing white and started. ' Who are you who ask these strange questions ?' she exclaimed. ' Who are you who rake up a past I have believed dead and buried ?' Weak from loss of blood, stun? with pain from the billet yet in big wound, labouring under an almost .:; uiii:ouiro iaula rt£<nteiueut t ITugu. yoi * drew hiroself up, and ap« ye* •!—

11 am the son of Lord Pagefc Evrtmond ' : i The lady gave a quick, wild cry. and looked at Hugh with a ecathine indignation. , , 1 Lord Paget's son!' she ejaculated, i searching his features, and growing - deadly pale as she marked the likeness to the face of the dead Lord Paget. 'You Lord I-Vget Evreinond,'s son! ; Impossible !He had but one son, sir, i and that son was mine also!' :', Hugh's face was suddenly lighted ' '-•> by a glorious smile. He took a step nearer the lady, and - extended his arms, crying— " ■ '■'■ ( Can you not guess* the truth ? ' ; Does not your heart toll you who I' - am ? Oh, mother! mother !' --'„ He trembled a moment as she stared at him in wild amaze ; then '" »1 his senses reeled, ho grasped blindly ,' at the empty air, and fell forward at > her feet in a swoon ! 4 - OHAPTSR XX. ... ■ ■ aroTHLK and soy. When Hugh recovered his senses ,V he found himself lying at full' length ■- upon the sofa in the pretty parlour of 1 Grlensae, with two anxious faces bend-, ■'«] ing over him—the faces of Miss Dean© '.'"] and her servant. " ;i By the smarting of his shoulder, ' ',\ and the cooliug bandages upon it. he '.'' knew that liii wound had been .""; dressed. And by the vigour that be-' ■■ gan to permeate his system, he knew. '< that a strengthening potion had been ■ "* administered to him while he was Vi insensible. '-\ ' I am all right now,' he said, in a low voice. «I!should preiti to sit up.' 'You may gr, Mrs Cummiogs,' said . !; a low \o'c 3, wh*'ch ho n cognized as .V Mi3H DeaneV. 'You i: ay prepare a-.-'; J^om for the "young gentleman. He will "", G-eitrudc,'siiJ , , ' lie r \ of' ~ i. Wtw, regarding h;m with a long, j^eE^^B ■ 'and fixed glnnce, "^ ' You have broken up ny calm, of years,' she Raid, in a tremulous vpic^ t • ' You have evoked (he memory of my husband who died f »r from me four and twenty yt-nrs Pgo. You have cilbd ma by a sacred n-.ime which no cno ever \>ofore cal'ed me—the name I once long.'d '; to he:r frcm my own child. His baby lips closed for ever four and twenty •■- ---year3 agn. He died atiiong str.ingerd— \; my little son whem I loved as my own. -.-..' bouI! Why hivQ you done all thU?-.:T-Why have yi'U com? lilto to turtuie me '.'*■ in this mnnni'i 1 ?' ' Who told you t'j'it your child \v«;s dead?" Rfrk-d IJuJi. '- V 1 Loid Leon w*d livienioaJ—rny hus- _'■•" band's brother.' 1 And you believed him V The lady started. (To be continued.)