CHAPTER LI.

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

CHAPTER LI.

ADJIIBATION 18 NOT LOV&.

The whole party at Boseneath Abbey were assembled in the library ; some of the gentlemen had gone out riding or driving, the ladies were holding a solemn assembly still on the same subject— the -famous charade party. Lord Carsdale had preferred joining the discussion ; it -was some years since he had been at a charade- party, and he was desirous of seeing them. Lady Ethel was busy discussing what was to be done, Ailie in finding books and references for Lady Waldrove. The day was fine and beautiful, the son shone warm and bright through the open windows, the flowers laughed in the lovely morning light, everything was bright and happy except the three whose lives were all marred by one act of supreme folly. Lord Caradale went to the book-shelves, and, after standing there some little time, he took down a book, and crossing the room, laid it before Ailie. " You were inquiring about old French costames, Miss Derwent," he said; "look at this." From the quiet significance of his tone Ailie knew there was more in' the few words than they seemed. She took the book from his hands, and saw a folded paper. Five minutes afterward, when she had an opportunity of opening it, she did so, and found the words : "I want to see you particularly. Could yoa be on the western terrace tonight, after eleven?' " How cautious he is," she thought to herself, first of all ; " there is no name. " . . Then she began to wonder why he wished to see her. Never did the. hoars qt, any day pass- so slowly ; it seemed to Ailie that they would never end ; she could not have told bow they had passed. She Baw a crowd of faces, bat recognised none of them ; Bhe heard voices but the tones were straDge to her ear. She

i I went through her dutien mechanically, her \ heart was still with wonder and surprise. Why did he want her ? Could it possibly be that he had learned to care some little for her, and was going to tell her so ? Would the long, cruel hours never pass ? She must go through the torture of dinner, of dessert, of music— never, surely, had one day seemed so long 1 Then came ten, and Lady Waldrove, tired of a day of —for her— unusual fatigue, began to talk of retiring. . The gentlemen, as a rale, always went to the smoking-room when the ladies retired, and left it, each one as his fancy dictated. The young ladies of the party talked over the ocqurences of the day in each other's rooms, so that Ailie knew she should have every chance of what Bhe wanted — an hour to herself. It would be awkward, of course, if Lady Waldrove wanted her to read, as she often did; but even if that were tbe case, if he really wanted to see her, he would wait until she came. She beard every one saying good-night ; she saw Lady Waldrove, who loved her son. if she loved anything on earth, kisa him and wish him pleasant dreams. _She stood by her side when this was done, and" never onoe did her eyes seek her husband's face. " How careful she is," he thought ; " how true she is to me I " When the ladies had all disappeared it was after eleven. Sir Charles Legard asked him if he were going to join them in a cigar, to which he replied : 11 No, not thi3 evening." 11 You look gloomy, Vivian,," said the Earl of Waldrove to his son. " There is nothing the matter, is there ? I hope you, did not leave your heart at Gibraltar Pier ? " " I am quite sore of that, sir," replied his son. " Nothing wrong over money, is there ? " asked the earl. " Young men will be yoong men, aB I know. If yoa want any, remember I am yoor banker." " Jfy dear father, you are very kind, but I do not even ppend all I have, so that I cannot want more." " Well," said the earl, with a quaint sigh, "I can say no more. If it be neither love nor money that clouds your face, my dear boy, I am a poor guesser." "I am not quite sure that my face is clouded," said Lord Carsdale, laughingly; bat his voice had not the light ting in it, and he turned away with a sigh. He would have given all that he had to have avoided the scene that he must pass through. He was a man of tender heart, sensitive to the highest degree over pain ; he could not endure to infliot it on others ; he could not bear to see it. Of late he had understood more and more how deeply and dearly Ailie, loved him, how entirely her whole life was wrapped in his ; he began to understand what the' terrible pain would be to her. On the other hand was the woman he loved — Her lite and her happiness to be i considered. I He went to the western terrace with something of the feeling of a man who goes to his doom. The night was dark and silent, with a sweet dewy quiet and repose about it. 1 There was no moon, and few stars ; a fragrant darkness lay over the silent earth. He found Ailie there. He did not see her at first, but when he walked to the stone ballustrade she looked through the darkness to the flowers below, and she came up to him very quietly. "Lord Carsdale," she said, "you wanted me, and I am here." He stood quite silent for one minute, almost unable to stir, so great was his emotion. Then, h«, tnrnful rnnnn 1 .- lfly«n-in tha ;u.i» ness her beautiful, passionate face shone out clear as a star ; her golden hair and white hands seemed to draw all the light there was to themselves. He looked for one minute at the fair, pure face, then he thought to himself it would be better by far if they oould both die there together— he before he told his story, she before she heard it. "Shall we cross the ground, Ailie, and go into the park ? " he asked. " Yes," she replied. "I will go anywhere that yoa like." Then they walked down the broad flight of steps that led from the terraoe to the ground. As they entered the park, they tamed, as though by mutual consent, to look at the house. The greater part of the massive, picturesque building lay in darkness ; from the windows of the smoking-room, on the ground floor, there came a broad stream of light; from the windows of the rooms on the second floor came a lesser light ; and Ailie saw her husband look, with wistful eyes, at the window of the room where Lady Ethel slept. " Yoa thought that so near the house we might be seen ?" she said. " I had the same idea. It is much safer here." Then they did not speak again until they reached the lake-side, and Lord Carsdale said, gravely : " Sit down here, Ailie. That which I have to say will take some time. I must not tire you." JUlie sat down. He Btood leaning against the iron seat, thinking to himself it would be easier to kill her than to break her heart. In the darkness he could just see the fair, innocent face ; the eyes so full of trust and faith; the sweet, sensitive lips. He could see it and he hated to speak the words whioh would bring the bitterness of death and sorrow there. It had to be done, and he knew that the longer he stood watching her, the more unwilling he would be to begin. "Ailie," he said, with desperate earnestness, "I .want to speak to you as I have never spoken to yoa before— heart to heart. I want to tell you my story— my love— my sorrow— my desire." Even in the darkness he saw the sadden gloom that came over her faoe. She rose .from her seat. " Let me be* nearer to you, then, Lord Carsdale," she said. " Sitting here, it seems .to me that lam twenty miles away. Let me be nearer to you. Somewhere— where I can hold your hand." "It will be better not, Ailie," he said, gravely. Bat she did not seem to have heard him. She stood by his side, looking at him intently, as though life or death depended on his words. Sh<& took his hand ; he could not refuse her. ' • " Poor, gentle ohild," he thought. "It is almost for the last time." " What are you going to say to me, my love ? " said Ailie. " See how the leaves there tremble and shudder in the wind/ yet they do not tremble as I do. Yoa look bo grave, I am afraid, sorely afraid."

"Listen to me, Ailie," he said, "and believe me that I hate myself as I speak— that I would give the world, were it mine, to free myself from the odium that mast cling to me. I— l am not what people call a religions man; bat I beg paudon of God, and of yoa, Ailie— of you " " I have nothing to forgive," she said. " You have been all that was most generous and noble to me."

" I mast go back to the beginning of oar acquaintanceship," he said, "to make my story clear. Ailie, the day that I went Buddenly to tbe housekeeper's room and saw yoa Was an unfortunate day for as both." "Not for me, love," Ailie said gently, " not for me." " For as both, Ailie ; had we never met, yoa WOald have loved and married some one who would have made you a far better hoeband than I have ever done." "I would rather have misery from your

uands than happiness from another,' obe said.

"You know, Ailie, that aftei all there has been no deceit. That day when I saw you first, I thought you tbe prettiest girl I had ever seen. \— you know it, so I need not tell you — I did not love you. I have never loved you, Ailie, but I admire you. I admired you that moment, and I have done so ever since ; but admiration is not love, is it, Ailie? " ' " No, indeed," she replied, with a sudden little smile, " it is not love, Lord Carsdale." " No ; we both agree there, As I tell you, Ailie, I admired you, and you seemed to me so innocent, so helpless ; and when I spoke to you, you told me that you had so little happiness. The thought that came into my mind was of the great difference between our I lives ; I had had so much pleasure, you so little, that I longed to put some little happiness in your way. I thought of no more than that at the time— no more." " I know it," said'Ailie, gently. "It was a generous thought ; one that only comes from a generous mind." " I puzzled myself for some little time until I thought. of .that unfortunate regatta. Now, Ailie, I ought to have had more sense ; I ought to have known better than to have persuaded a young girl like you to go out for a day in that fashion, bat I meant no harm, ooly that you should have one day'a pleasure." " I know it," she replied, gently. - " All our misfortune came from that," he said ; " and, Ailie, it is of the consequences of that day I want to speak to you now." ■ Then she knew the hour she had long waited for had arrived, and that her husband was going to speakto her about her marriage.