CHAPTER XVI.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XIII, Issue 14, 24 July 1885, Page 5

CHAPTER XVI.

MBS. LEE INSISTS UPON TELLING HEB STORY. May soon found herself domesticated pleasantly enough with the inmates of the Castles of Catnlough. Just at first she fell somewhat oppressed by attentions; from Lady Archbold, who prided herself on being an excellent hostess ; from Sir John, who was desirous that his special guest should not find herself neglected; from Mrs. Lee, who had looked upon this girl as a windfall' which fate had sent to herself; from Katherine, who was resolved to dazzle and to patronise ; and from Christopher, who was but bent upon pleasing his love. May accepted the treatment as quietly as though she had been used to it all her life ; but once or twice she got tired of being asked if she were sure she would rather go out than remain in-doors, if she j33re quite sure she would not like this chair better than that sofa, 0a& if abe were very sure indeed that she would not prefer another game of chess before going to bed. Ig crossed her mind that tilings were pleasanter at home, at Monasturlea, where people came and went as they liked, without questioning or ceremony. Very scon, however, she fitted herself to the place, and the people got used to her and gave her peace. Mre. Lee had taken possession of May as her own property since their first meeting on the mountain. She had chosen her a place by her own side at the dinner-table, chiefly addressed her conversation to her, and after dinner, until the moment when she, Mrs. Lee, fell asleep in her easy-chair, related to her the principal events of her life. Mrs. Lee in the drawing-room was not so alarming a person as Mrs. Lee lost on the heather ; but, in a brown-velvet robe and scarlet turban, she looked sufficiently imposing. Her sad looks at her son, and her bitter looks at Katherine, caused much amusement to May, who did not pity her in the least. If a mother could not be content with & bride like Miss Archbold for her son, why a mother ought not to be encouraged in her folly. Some days passed before the storm of Mrs. Lee's full confidence broke, as had been threatened, upon May's devoted head. She had several times seen it coming, but had taken timely shelter under the wing of some third person. Mrs. Lee required leisure and privacy for her story ; and though the people of the house could hardly be said to do anything all day, nor yet to be particularly sociable, still,

io their habits within doors, there was little privacy or leisure at Camlougb. May was invited to join the lovers in all their walks and 'rides, and it often fell to her share to feel herself one too many. She learned a trick of letting her horse lag behind the others, and of losing herself in the dingles in quest of wild -strawberries. Sometimes Sir John Archbold made a fourth in the rides, and paid her old-fashioned compliments, and told her of the new improvements which he meant to make abDut the place— a ru9tic bridge here, a plantation there ; and May cheerfully studied the points of view, and faithf ally gave him her opinion on these matters. But quite as often she was entirely left to her own reflections. This did not trouble her ; for she had a vast love of beauty, and a turn for noting characters ; and the new images that crowded her own mind made a constant entertainment for her from morning till night. The lovers were an unfailing source of delight to her. Her heart leaned towards them in quite a motherly fashion. She had read about lovers, but she had never beheld a real pair. She followed ia their wake,, admiring, in her simplicity, what she conceived to be an example of the greatest happiness of life. She spent long, dreamy days thinking over the matter, down among the lilies and sedges under the bridge, or wandering through mazy and shimmering dingles. The world was very glorious, thought May, in her maiden meditation j and human life was very beautiful and richly blest.

Mrs. Lee and May and Katherine were all lodged in the same wing of the castle, and their windows all opened upon a great balcony. May was rather afraid to trust herself on the balcony alone, lest Mrs. Lee should loom forth and' take possession of her. Mrs. Lee had a handsome sitting-room ofi her bedroom, and it often pleased her to spend the day in solitude. May, a less important persoD, had only a pretty little dres9ing-room, furnished with writingtable, books and pictures ; but she, too, liked to spend an hour id: her retreat. This sitting-room and this dressiner-room adjoined one"' another, the wall between being but a partition. When Mrs. Lse heard May stirring in her nest, she was apt to leave her own and come knocking at May's door. When May heard Mrs. Lee leave her room, she was apt to fly to the balcony, and thence escape to the gardens. Upon the strength of many disappointments Mrs. Lee built a theory that the dressing- room was haunted. •• My dear ma'am," she would confide to May, " E heard some one move in it quite plainly, but when I entered there was 1 nobody to be seen ! "

And May would answer slyly : " Indeed, madam, I don't believe it ia haunted by anything more mischievous than myself I " This was all very well ; and, for a time, she kept the ponderous lady at a distance. The hour of her defeat was at hand, however 5 and one night she heard Mrs. Lee's gentle knock upon her bedroom Uoor. For a moment May thought of making no answer, and pretending to be asleep ; but •• it would be quite useless," Bhe decided the next moment, " for she would coma in and wake me, 1 believe."

" Mrs. Lee, I am just stepping into bed," was her answer. It was certainly true, for she had put out her light, and stood in her night dresF, in the moonlight, in the middle of the floor. "My dear Miss May," came back to her through the keyhole, (! you will not object to an old woman's sitting at your bedside for an hour ? "

May saw that she was conquered. She opened her door, and retreated to her bed, where Mrs. Lee lollowed her, and sat down before her like a nightmare. Mrs. Lee had on a Jarge white nightcap, and even the moonlight had no power to make her look like a spirit of night ot mysterious angel visitant. " My dear," began Mrs. Lee, '• I should not torment you with my complaints if I had anyone else to go to for sympathy." This was said in accents oc such real sadness tnat May gavj up her impatience, and became attentive. " I'm very sorry if you are in trouble, Mrs. L?e," she said. " Thank you, my dear," sa d Mrs. Lee, " and truly I am in sore trouble. Love has always been a mischief-maker, they say, but young men used sometimes to iake advioe frum their mothers. My son used, but now he will not listen to a word that I speak. My dear, I want you to say a few words to the lady." In the earnestness of Mrs. Lee'd affliction she had forgotten the formality of her usual style of address. May's patience, however, was not proof against this speech. She sat up and spoke out her miint.

" Now, Mrs. Lee, I should like to show reßpect to all you say ; but 1 find it very haid to pity what you seem to feel. I think nothing could be more fitting than the match ; and as for your eon, I think Miss Archbold only too good for him, if there be any difference between them."

•' That's what she thinks herself, I dare say," said Mrs. Lee, beginning to weep ; " and I do declare I believe there is no kindheartedness left among you women nowadays ; but if she does think so, why does she not tell him so, and send him away 2 " " Send him away ! " echoed May ; " I don't understand you at all, Mrs. Lee." " I see that plain enough, my dear, and I will tell you all about it. You think that Miss Archbold is going to marry my son ? " "Of course I think so," said May. " What else could I think V " What else, indeed ? But she is not going to marry him, and she is going to ruin him for life." " Oh, no I I could not believe it." " That will not alter the matter at all," said Mrs. Lee crossly. " That's true ; but I mean — you know, even were bhe capable"' — May paused. *' In that case, Mrs. Lee, she wouM not be worth thinking of. Your son would not bo ruined for life, I dare say." •• You know nothing about the matter when yon say so," retorted the distressed lady. "My dear ma'am, I came here to tell you the whole story. I suppose you have heard my son spoken of as a man of wealth ? "

May admitted that she had heard him so spoken of. " Well," said Mrs. Lee, grimly, " I have three hundred a year which my husband left me. It was all be had to leave. And he said : ( The child is a boy, let him work.' "

May was silent, not daring to ask if upon the reversion of his mother's tbree hundred pounds a year rested Christopher's sole claim to bs considered a man of wealth. " And so he should have been brought up to work, and he ■would have worked," went on Mrs. Lee, " if I had not had a brother who was a rich bachelor. He was an old man, and all his great wealth never made him happy, He had been always called a woman-hater ; but when he was dying he sent for me, and he made some confessions about his views of life. He said he believed a single life led to all sorts of folly and wickedness, and that he had been a miserable man because he had been so lonely. He willed all his fortune to my son, on condition that he should marry before he was twenty-three. 'If a young man has any good in him,' said he, 'he has always fallen in love with some nice girl before that age. Let him marry her at once, and not wait till he has begun to think that she is not as handsome, or as clever, or as angelically tampered as he would like her to be. Most young men are prevented by want of money. He shall not be bo prevented.' In this humour my brother made his will ; and so, my dear ma'am, it happens that if Christopher be a married man before the last day of next September, he will be richer than most men in the kingdom. If he be not married by that time, he will be poorer than any other poor young man by just this mncb, that he will not know how to work." •• And this is July," said May ; " they ought to be getting ready for the wedding. " There will be no wedding here," said the troubled lady. " Oh, Mrs. Lee 1 " " There is no wedding thought of, except in my son's, poor, bedazzled brains. I told you before that it was this girl's amusement to lead him on to his ruin, and I tell you ro again." " But does she know the- circumstances, as you have told them tome?" " I told them to her myself seven or eight months ago. She only laughed, and said the old gentleman bad made an exceedingly awkward arrangement." " Perhaps she does not like to be tormented about the matter. She may choose to be a little mischievous ; but 1 will not believe that she can be so wicked as you think." " You don't know her as I know her. You have not seen her with other lovers around her, nay dear. She was the centre of a crowd of them when we met ber first ; and she turned them off one by one, and seemed to delight in their vexation. At that time I thought Christopher would have married a sweet little girl, the daughter of his tutor in England. She was fond of him, I am sure ; and though she had not a penny, he need not care for that ; but this Katherine put her clear out of his head." " Would it not be well to appeal to her father and mother," said May, now thorougbtly rouse 1 to comprehend the situation, and feeling interested in averting this threatened danger. "I tried that before," said Mrs. Lee, gloomily, "but I might have saved my pains. I believe they are afraid to interfere wich the girl. They declared politely that they never could think of iuflueucing their daughter's affections. As if I wanted them to do so ! I asked for nothing but that she should make up her mind." May began to share in the poor lady's dismay. '• So then I should have left this place in anger," said Mrs. Lee, " only for fear of making a quarrel, and destroying any hope tnat might be left. If the lady would marry my son I should be thankful, though, indeed, Ido not like her. My poor boy loves her, and, at all events, his fortune would be secured ; but if she turns him away now, at the last moment, when be finds himself ruined and disappointed, he will fall into a despair which she, with her light ways, could scarcely ever dream of. And things are no better to-day than they were weeks ago." This conversation went on for some time longer ; and daring the course of it, much of the heaviness and unsightliness of Mrs. Lee's outlines became softened away, and was never after visible to May'a pitying eyes. These two new friends parted at last with an understanding that May should, if opportunity offered, make interest for Christopher, and plead his cause with Kntherine ; and, after Mrs Lee had gone away, May lay along time still awake, wondering over tne iniquity that had just been made known to her. She found it in the end too monstrous to be believed in. Before she went to sleep she had persuaded herself that Katherine must come forth, triumphant in honesty, from under the cloud of this suspicion that was at present hanging over her. (To be continued.)