CHAPTER L.

Tuapeka Times, Volume XVIII, Issue 1183, 26 September 1885, Page 5

CHAPTER L.

"I WOULD DIE TO FBEB TOO." Lord Carsdale was very unhappy as he paced uneasily to and fro on the western terrace that evening. He Baid to himself that, even had he sinned most terribly, he could not have been more terribly punished. " Yet, I was only imprudent," he said to himself; "I did not wilfully do wrong; I acted from a mad sense of honor ; and if I had been of all men the most deficient in honor, I could not have brought upon myself or others more fatal consequences." He could not bear the thought of having made Lady Ethel Buffer; he ooold not enflute the thought that he mus'i break Ailie'e heart. "It Beema cowardly to wish that I had never been born," he said to himself ; " bat it is true; or I wish that my life had been something very different to what it is." He re-entered the house. The night was dark, for the moon was not in a gracious mood, and would not shine. From out of the atrange shadows he saw a slender, girlish figure coming cautiously; then again his hand was taken by the soft, white hands — he knew none so well— a warm, soft lips touched them. He knew that Ailie, his wife, had followed him to say one word tp him. " I was bo happy to-day , h she said, " because I had that glove of yours to mend. How little make* some neople quite content. I feel as though 1 had «m a kingdom when I have the chance d doinn some little thing for you." ' "Poor ohild !"h: a.d. -But Ailie looked , into his face with a smile. "I am not poo' «• replied ; " you muat not call me fo. ' i I be poor when I have the chnnc - ing you so often? Poverty would m - ;«r seeing you at all." "Do you, theD, »ove me so very much ? " he asked, tfaclly ; at!^ the girl looked at him with a wonderful light on her face. "My love, my love I " she whispered, "some day, when your heart is larger and your soul grander than it is now, you may know how much." He was half startled at her words. " You think I cannot appreciate your love just now, then ? " " I am sure," she returned, quietly ; "to appreciate it, would be to return it. I had but two minutes, and they are over ; I most go, Lord Carsdale. How happy it makes me to have spoken to youl Say' good-night, Ailie, and — God bless you.' " "Good-night, .and God bless you," he replied. He could say do more, knowing in how short a time he must say words to her that rnnst break her heart. Then he was alone again ; and now his eyes were dim with the mist of tears, and he was more miserable than when she found him. That gentle, tender, loving heart, bow was he to plunge this cruel dagger in it— how could he? It seemed to him easier far to plunge a dagger in the soft, white neck, or to brand the fair, pare face with an iron brand. He smoked onß cigar after another; they brought him neither peace nor inspiration. He walked miles. Strong as he was, he felt some little fatiguej but he could not shake off the thoughts which haunted him, or the sorrow that pursued him. Once he thought of fleeing ; but flight, he said to himl self, was the resource of a coward— he would never do that; even- if he did, flight would not help him — he should take his 'difficulties ■with him ; he could not run away from the consequences of- his own folly. There was not a more miserable man in England than the heir of Boseneath that night. He felt - Jibe a man with a sword over his head — a man with a skeleton always by his side— a man who had before him a terrible alternative. '- Nor was Lady Ethel much less puzzled. What v could that abrupt question have meant? No offer of marriage had followed it, or would follow it. No pleasure, no happiness—no expectation of anything of the kind followed it. Why had he aßked her ? She thought of every imaginable reason, but none satisfied her. She saw that she had been right in one respeot ; Bhe had correctly imagined that he had a story— a mystery in hia life— and the solution of that story was the reason why he had not asked her to » marry him. Lord Carsdale could not deoide when he was to tell Ailie of his decision. It was one thing to say to himself that he mast break her heart ; it was quite another to decide the day and the hour. He was struck one morning by her patient gentleness. The ladies were all in the morning room, busy in dis-~ cussing the dresses for a charade party, which "the countess had decided -on giving ; Captain Moore, Lord Carsdale, and one or two others were with them. Lady Waldrove had just received some intelligence that displeased her very much— it was the marriage of one of her relations, a pretty girl of nineteen, who had, to use my lady's own expression, deliberately thrown herself away on a penniless but very handsome hussar. "I do not call such conduct by the mild name of madness," eaid the countess, proudly; "it is wiokedness and crime. No man or woman has a right to marry beneath bis ox her elation ; it ie cruel and unpardonable. I would never forgive such % thing.!' " Perhaps in some one very near and dear 4o you, you might," observed one of the

ladies ; but the countess drew herself up proudly.

" That I should not," she said ; " the nearer and dearer the person was to mejwbo committed such a folly, tbe more I. should punish it. I would never speak to son or daughter again who served me in that fashion." "That would be very cruel," said Lady Legard. "I do not think so. I believe that if parents were firmer, and showed more plainly by the severity of their anger how unpardonable suoh crime is, there would be less of it." "I think, mamma," laughed Lady Gertrude, " that you are tbe last in the world with anything of this kind to fear. You have but two unmarried children — Vivian and myself ; there is little fear that we shall ever marry beneath as." And as Lady Gertrude uttered these words, the eyes of husband and wife met. Ailie's beautiful face had grown very pale, while Lord Carsdale had flushed crimson. Any one eeeing t^hem just at that moment mast have guessed their secret. Lady Waldrove was unusually eloquent on the matter. "I do not suppose there is, my dear Gertrude. Such absurdities do not enter my mind; I am speaking generally. I should just as soon expect you both to tarn oat forgers, or something equally dreadful, as to marry beneath you ; tbe very words have a nauseous sound." " I am quite sure that I shall nevfr do so," langhed Lady Gertrude. '/Heave Vivian to answer for himself." " Oh, Vivian has too much good sense," said the countess ; " I should never be afraid of such a thing from him." " I think the discussion very foolish and very useless," said Lord Carsdale, briefly. The countess tamed quickly round. ■ "It is not often that I differ with yoa, but Ido this time. Such a discussion is of the very highest importance, and I am sorry that I cannot denounce such iniquities as unequal marriages more strongly than I do." And again the eyes of husband and wife met. " There may be excuses at times," pleaded gentle Lady Legard. " There can be none," said the countess, sternly. "If the daughter I loved married beneath her, I would never look upon her face again. If the son I cherished did so he should henceforth be no more than a stranger to me." "We will change the subject," said Lwd Carsdale ; "it is not a pleasant one." And Lady Legard very adroitly told a story of some charade party given at a house where she had been visiting. The subject was not resumed, but Lord Carsdale saw that his young wife's face did not regain its coloring. ' He saw that her bands trembled bo much that it was with difficulty she coviii he&& her book. AU the chivalry of his nature was aroused. He felt inclined to take that trembling figure in his arms and defy the whole world ; he felt inclined to say : " I have married beneath me— this is my wife ! Now do and say your worst 1 " But one look at that pale, beautiful, gentle face quieted him— that would be to expose her to insult. He made some excuse for quitting the room Boon after ; he could not have remained there much longer without betraying himself. That same evening he had gone to the library in search of a book, hoping to be able to distract hiß attention./ Most of the gentlemen, he knew, were in the smpkinß-rpom : the ladieß had gone to then* rooms. As he stood in the dimly-lighted room, Ailie entered, with a lighted wax taper in her hand. "I knew you were here," she said; "do not fear to let me speak to yoa— there is no one in this part of the house at all. Lady Waldrove asked me to find her ' The Three Musketeers.' lam going to read to her, but I shall have time to say one word to you." He looked sadly at the fair, young face, thinking himself what trooble and sorrow he had brought upon her. She placed the taper on one of the tables ; then she stood before him, so fair, so gentle, so loving, his heart was touched. She looked up into his face with her sweet, innocent eyes, in which lay no shadow of fear — nothing £but devotion and truth: 1 My love," she said gently, " is not my life and all that it holds, your own ? " " Yes," he replied, sadly ; " I believe so, Ailie." " I have come to say to you, have no fear. I heard all that Lady Waldrove said to-day. Have no fear, no one shall ever know oar seoret. I will sacrifice anything in the world rather than that should happen. I will never ask yon to xisk your mother's anger by making our marriage known. Oh, my love, my my love, if I could bat die to free yoa I " i "Do not say that, Ailie ; it is like tempting Providence," he said, gravely. She laughed. " My love," she said, " do yoa think that in my mind there is any comparison between my death and your freedom ? There is none. But I must not waif; I only want to swear fealty to you over and over again— to swear to you that nothing shall ever draw from me this secret of my marriage. I see and understand now all that seemed so strange to me before."

The next minute she had taken op her book and taper, and had left the room ; while he asked himself. " Had any man so fair and loving a wife?"