CHAPTER VI.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume V, Issue 215, 8 June 1877, Page 5

CHAPTER VI.

" But lor m$- sister Isabel, The mnod of wom&u who can telL" Lord of tsb Isles. " Are you really going, Mary ?" said Walter to his cousin, when he met her in the early morning of the following day in the gardens of Apswell Court. " Yes>, indeed I must, Walter ; if the escort comes, as I think it ■will, this evening, i must hid you all farewell to-morrow." "I think," said Walter, "that I will go forth and mislead the escort, tell them this is not Apswell Court." "Ah !" laughed -Mary, "trust the Thoresby wit for that, my Lord de Lisle." Walter's smile passed away. "I shall miss you so, dear cousin." he said, tenderly. " Well," said Mary, cheerfully, " I cannot wish that you should not miss me, for a while at least; but I trust shortly matters will look brighter, and your sojourn here less tedious." " Why must you go so soon, Mary P" "My father does not wish me to stay long as Earl Beauville's guest ; and besides, he is able just at this moment to send an escort for me, which is not always in his power, for you know we are not the rich Thoresbys now. Walter, I have set my heart on your coming to Thoresby Kail. I feel certain you are to come some day." "Yes," said Walter, "I will come, Mary; I promise you I will ; it cannot be so difficult an undertaking but that a firm will can compass it." " I suppose you can hardly tell me yet how you like thii place." " Yes, I can, Mary," returned he ; "I am very wretched ; I do not see how it can be otherwise. Lord Beauville's train is thronged by young gentlemen of good birth, who hope to win their spurs or gain advancement, from being his attendants ; but to mix among them, and not to forswear the worship of God, is impossible." Mary shuddered. " I have heard my fatheT say that the license allowed ia noble households, of those attached to the court, is fearfnl." " Fearful," answered her cousin, " and loathsome ! Brought up as I have been, Mary, at college, among learned and holy men, it revolts me to hear the coarse and ribald talk that met my ear last night." " And can you not avoid it in any way ?" "Yes, in one, plaining myself on my birth, I can show that I condescend not to mingle with those a step below me ; but then, Mary, it will be solitude, entire and unbroken." " Come, come, Walter," said Mary, "be like a brave knight and good Christian, and fight manfully. You want not me to preach to you, after all the lore you heard at Eheiins ; but I heard it once said, that when God sends trials thick on us, He treats us as a general does his most trusty soldiers, — he puts them in the dangerous parts." "You say truly, Mary," exclaimed Walter, with brightening tone and manner, " and I will fight my best, and not be a coward in the battle. Thia is the last complaint I will make, and as you are goiug away, Mary, I shall have no opportunity." "So you only desired my stay that you might grumble to me, most noble baron ;" and both the cousins laughed merrily. In the very midst of their mirth, turning round a corner of the walk came upon, them the Lady Constance, fresh, and beautiful as the roses she carried in her hand. She blushed, and curtseying with grace, almost stateliness, said " she was sorry to interrupt them," and would have passed on, but Mary prevented her. " I depart to-morrow, Lady Constance," said she, pleasantly, " and 1 shall feel as if I knew nothing of one who is to be my cousin's friend." Constance being nothing loath, the three continued their walk together, and blithely ran their tongues, as they discussed the various amusements of the day, keeping carefully away from the dangerous topics of religion or court news. " I fear you will find Apswell Court a very dull residence," said Lady Constance to Walter; " for since my brother w abroad, and my father is so much at court, it has grown quite different from what it used to be. We had merry days when Regnier was at home." " Viscount Regnier is your only brother, I think," said Mary. "My half-brother," replied Constance. "We are both our mother's only children." And then, quickly, as if anxious to change the subject, she exclaimed, " Mistress Thoresby, I do so envy you one thing-." " What is tba»t ?" inquired Mary, with a smile. " That sweet-looking serving-maiden of yours; I have never been able to get one 1 liked." " t should, be truly glad if you would have this one, then," returned Mary; and she hastened to explain that Rose did. not belong to her. " I travelled without an attendant," she said. "to De Lisle castle; and as for Rose, I believe this very day Lady Anne will be besought to find a service for her, since Rachel, the elderly one, is to attend upon my cousin." " Then it is settled at once," said Constance, eagerly. "I am so glad ; will you send her to me presently, Mistress Thoresby, and I will arrange the wage with her, and other matters, and (as soon as suits Mistress de Lisle' s convenience) she can enter on her attendance. Bat I hear sounds that announce the dinner- hour ; is it indeed ten of the clock ? I thought it not so late." Ltidy Constance departed. Mary gazed after her for a moment, and exclaimed, " How very lovely she is !'•' She turned to her cousin again, but Walter's eyes were fixed on the path Constance had taken, with so riveted a gaze as startled Mary. " Lovely !" he said ; " methinks I never saw aught so fair on earth."

Mary sighed to herself as she left him, and went towards the house, "Is this to be his trial, poor boy ? It is most cruel if Lord Beauville keeps him here in inaction, with nothing to think of but that witching face." Mary informed Isabel of the good prospect which had offered itself for Rose. To her astonishment her cousin was mightily displeased. " I would have spoken about her myself to Lady Anne, had I been allowed the time." " " But, Isabel," said Mary, "what could Lady Anne procure for her better than to wait on Lady Constance, and to stay in the same Castle with you and Rachel, too ?" " Well, well," said Isabel, "it is arranged now, of course ; I would not so have chosen, as I said, and there has been too much hurry" When Rose heard what her future destination was to be, she was delighted. "Not to have to leave the house you are in, Mistress Isabel," said she, " and to wait on that lovely Lady Constance, who looks so meek and gentle, I am happy indeed," Isabel's face clouded over, and she expressed no opinion either of satisfaction or dissatisfaction. When Mary took leave, Isabel melted for the moment, and held her fast in her embrace. "Forgive me, Mary," she whispered; "I have tried your patience sorely, I know." Mary kissed her fondly, as she assured her of her love and sympathy ; and with fervent hopes that they should meet again ere long, they parted. Walter put her on her horse. " Farewell, dear cousin," said he j " Heaven bless you for all your goodness and comfort." " You must come to Thoresby, Walter. Now promise me you will." " Yes, I promise," said Walter. His last words were, " I will come to Thoresby." Mary rode out of Apswell Court ; Walter stood on the steps watching her, and Isabel, from her window, followed her with wistful eyes. So they parted. When and how shall they meet again ? The time passed heavily at Apswell Court, after the departure of the cheerful and peace-making Mary. Isabel, true to her resolution, confined herself entirely to her own apartments, only appearing at dinner and supper, and then studiously avoided joining in the merriment that generally went on. Very often she took her meals in her own rooms. Lady Anne considered her conduct insulting, and showed it by taking no further notice of her than a slight and stiff bend of her head, morning and evening, which was as stiffly responded to on Isabel's part. Constance, kept at a stately distance by Isabel, naturally grew cold in her manner, though her kind heart felt for, and made excuses in behalf of Isabel, pitying her loneliness, and the heavy afflictions she had gone through. Constance had never known her own mother, who had died in giving her birth. One of the strongest feelings of her nature was her love for the mother she had never seen, and many were the tears she shed over the beautiful but sad-looking portrait of the Lady Constance Courtenay, Countess of Beauville, which hung in the long gallery. She could the better pity Isabel who had known the sweetness of a mother's love, and lost it fo) ever. Lord Beauville treated Isabel with studied indifference, and this galled hex She would rather have met with resistance, and would willingly have measured her strength of will with that of her guardian. She was never required, as she had expected, to attend the prayers and sermons in the chapel; neither did Master Gregory Oldcastle ever approach to entertain her with godly discourse on the errors of papacy; in truth, the haughty bearing of Mistress de Lisle kept the chaplain in too great awe of her to make such an attempt. It may seem strange that so proud and stubborn a character as Isabel could have grown up under the teaching of the meek and saintly Alice de Lisle ; but Isabel's strongest element was her affection — an affection apt to expend itself on one object, and with the true selfishness of all fiery passions, on an object which must he dependent upon her. Lady de Lisle was all in all to Isabel j her pleasure was hers ; she lived but in her presence, and she proudly felt she was to her mother solace and counsellor, nurse and protector ; and yet Isabel's love, though it bore the aspect ot the most unselfish devotion, was selfish. She could bear no other object to attract her mother's notice, or that she should lean on other aid than hers. In De Lisle Castle, Isabel had ruled with undivided sway ; no one dared gainsay her will ; and Isabel, who was most noble and just in her dealings with inferiors, never gave real cause of complaint. Thus her faults grew up unchecked and unnoticed, save, indeed, by Father Gerard, but he, in his few and hurried visits to the castle, had little opportunity to do more than warn her solemnly ; and the warnings were ever received in the same way, with self -defence, broken down at last into violent grief, which passed away and left no trace behind j rather Isabel secretly consoled herself with thinking that Father Gerard was so severe to himself he had no mercy for others, and misjudged her harshly. And so Isabel went on in self-deceit, deeming that her present conduct showed fitting respect to her condition, and was a protest against injustice. After Mary's departure, Walter sought his sister, and with a patience very hard for one of his impulsive nature to attain, he strove to break down the sort of barrier that had arisen between them. He thought he had succeeded. Isabel's sternness relaxed, and the love that was really in her heart for her brother began to show itself j but there was one condition, — Walter must join with her in the line ghe took towards the Beauville family ; and Walter would not. With an impulsiveness and a guilelessness which made bim a, boy {or hie years, Walter had a keen perception of right and

wrong j his training, so different from that of his sister, had taught him to submit to lawful authority, and he knew Lord Beauville bad not at present exercised his authority beyond its lawful limits. He told Isabel so, and she drew back into her stately distance, and treated him at once as joining in the league against her. Poor Walter wandered disconsolately about, and heartily wished himself back at Eheims, with the hardest day's work before him he had ever performed, rather than have to drag through these tedious hours at Apswell Court.