Waverley Library (Quarto Edition) (no. 88) (1881 07 19)
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- seen e _ 88 @ year. The only zon Young Lz Ladies’ Library of hbenicaaees Dla Novels Published! Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mail Rates. Zo but § 5 cents each. ECG these things?” Cassie hid her face on UIANN Dy \RANN lw =. marma’s knee, and. be- gan to sob, “It’s real unkind, of Romney, that it is, con- sidering how much gac- rificed for his sake, but I asked him for a ‘new dress only yesterday and he denied me. He says his business affairs ‘are embarrassed, and he can’t afford to spend a dollar extravagantly.” “Ob, pooh! they all say thats he’s penurious, that’s all: he can afford it well enough, no doubt. In your place, ’'d have them to be sure. My fs ( eee) “ ore 8 SURE HE
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~~. a. = “ah ay : 2 A TERRIBLE DEED. + dear child, you don’t know how to manage men.”’ The daughter only answered by her sobs. Her lady mother laughed again. * Too late to cry now, child ; as you’ve made your bed so you must iie. You wouldn’t listen to me when-I.told..you.how it would be, You’d break your heart and die, if you didn’t ‘marry Romney, Well, you’ve married him, but a fine figure you’ll cut at your sister’s ball, in an old- fashioned gown, and that heavy, old Roman jew- 5 aaa, : ZY won’t wear it,” cried Cassie, passionately ‘*What will you do? Ifyou stay at home, people will imagine the truth, that you can’t ap- pear for want of genteel clothes.”’ ‘* Mamma, couldn’t you help me? TI wouldn’t have Flavia know it for the world, but I’m afraid I shall never persuade Romney to let me have the money. But if you could lend me enough, Pll pay it back some day”’ *¢Oh, ho, lend you the money! You little idiot, I haven’t got a thousand dollars in the world ; if I had, a pretty fool I should be, to deny _ myself to gratify you. No, indéed ; go to your darling Romney, that you couldn’t live with- out.”” The young ‘wife covered her face, and tears trickled between her white fingers. “‘Ha! ha! ha! what a little fool to be'sure,’’ Taughed her mother, heartlessly, ‘‘ mewed‘ up: in “this dreary, old rivet-house, and not'a genteel frock -to*your back ; the very handsomest woman in the (State, too; and you might have been Mrs. Lau- ‘ defdale, with five thousand ayear for pin money.’’ ‘Oh, mamma, don’t, please. You know I » hated old Lauderdale, and I loved Romney.” **To be sure I know it, and I wish you joy of _ choice, but don’t dare to show your face at /Mrs, Préston’s, tiiless you,'cam come well-dressed. ~ And: now give me. my bonnet, and, I’ll. go ; this old: house;,with the sound of the river eternally in » one’s ears, gives me the horrors.’’ » Cassie fetched the bonnet, and set it above the _/white pufied hair, and thén accompanied the hhandsome,,,worldly old lady down to her car- . ‘*Mamma is right,’’, she thought, watching the riage as it rolled down the drive, ecu, the arching cedars... ‘(I should have married Mr. Lauderdale, Iam unfit to be a poor man’s wife. this lonesome old house. 1 want to be back _ in the city ; to have. fine robes and jewels, to dance . and flirt, and.goto the opera, I can’? endure this life. I did Joyé Romney, but now I fancy I’m _ growing tired a SE , er superb black eyes filled with tears, and her * Tipe Tips. uivered. -* But Pll have ‘a new silk, anda set of jewels for Flavia’s ball, I wid/. ia and Flavia 3 phe thah that Romney’s to poor and mean to Tet _me have them ; and H won’t’ go to Flavia’s ball looking a fright, and she all dressed in her ‘ ae eae ‘te __ Even é she uttered these passionate words, id ‘her husband appeared. She flew to meet him, ~ ‘and twined her white arms round his neck. _ “Twas this minute thinking about you, my OT steer "Twas cross to you » thot and I “have been so sorry’all day; but you will let me ' have the new silk, Romney ? Mesto se he ; - “here, and Flavia is going to ah . and it will’ break my heart if I don’t thing nice to wear.” ihe **Oh, Cassandria,”’ he said, his voice full of dis- pair, his face worn and weary, ‘‘I hoped you would not ask meagain. Dear, I gave you the ‘last money I could spare to pay for your black silk and the new pony carriage. I wish I had it, in- deed I do, my wife.’’ ee “Tknow you do, and you'll get it somehow, ve some- I’m sure will,’”’ and her soft, rich lips touched his, her bewitching eyes glowed upon him like stars, ‘‘I must have a nice dress, anda set of jewels, : pd “Great heaven! Cassandria, how can I get them care ; your mean, and peny »» to. keep me, shut uP in this - nit s; Lwish I had never se my. cart Thad married Mr pL he poor, e, Over-Wwor. _ before her. ‘*Oh, Cassie,’’ he said, ‘‘ I had not dreamt that you could be so heartless ; I wish I could gratify you, Idoindeed. I’m not miserly ; it is utterly out of my power. Listen to me, Cassie, come “nearer, and hear what I never meant to tell you. We have been living beyond our means for the last two years; you wanted the carriage and ponies so, and I hatéd to deny you ; and—and— Cassie, I used money that didn’t belong to me. I didn’t intend to steal, heaven knows ; I meant to replace .t;-and I-have-succeeded.in part. . But don’t you see, dear, that I can’t eer a dollar? I must put it all-back before Mr. Selby returns from Europe, or I shall be found out, and ruined and disgraced for life.” She laughed scornfully in his face. ‘*You’ve embezzled, have you? Well, some five or six hundred dollars, more or less, won’t make your crime’ one ‘whit worse, and I must have ‘|}aset of jewels.” ‘¢ Why, gseat heavens! I can’t raise what I’ve already used ; would you have me take more? Would you have me sell my honor for your miser- able trinkets 2” ‘¢ You’ve no honor to sell, or you would’ heyer have duped me into marrying you.” ‘¢You knew I was a poor man, Cassie ; and I thought you loved me.” © Hiddlesticks! When poverty comes in at the door, love flies out at the window. I wish from the bottom of my heart I was James Lauderdales’ wife this very night.’ ‘‘ Heaven, knows, I wish so too!’ He turned on his heel and left her, and, instéad of.entering the house, retraced his steps in the direction of the city, His: wife stood on the long, windy portico, watching the sun. going down behind the glitter- ing spires. of the distant city. . Her, passionate eyes did not soften ; she felt no pity or remorse for what she had done. ‘ Her-early training” in the home of a worldly mother told well. ‘*T Joved him so, and sacrificed ail my prospects for his sake,’’ she said, ‘*and this is my reward. Since he has used some of*the firm’s money, where would have‘ been the harm of using a little more ? I'll never forgive him! Only to think how mamma and Flavia will laugh at me! Iwish I were dead !’? Yet, flat in contradiction of this tion, she went down in answer to Kitty’s bell, and eat her dinner with quite as much relish as if her husband had been with her, instead of being driven out mad, and desparate, by her heartlessness. © Dinner over, she repaired to her own room and employed herself in taking an inventory of her finery. Silks, tulles, ribbons and flowers were tossed aboutin elegant ion. ve ‘*}ot one thing fit to wear—a tawdry, old-fash- ioned lot,” she said, disdainfully ; “why, Flavia wouldn’t be caught wearing the Ah, dear me, Flavia was a sensible woman, and I a fool. She’s got a husband worth his tens of thousands, and she’s a ‘fright’ compared to me.’ ' She turned to the old- oned mirror; that re- flected her beautiful face and perfect figure, lithe and full of grace as the limbs of a young pan- theress. ‘<1 am beautiful,” she sighed, the color i. her cheeks, her eyes like stars ; ‘‘ butawhat does oO ling print as the finest lute-string ! and bury me in this old house from one year’s end to another. But I won’t submit to it ; he’s married me, and he shall pay for his prize. I will have ih ap- dey and jewels, no matter at what cost! I wont ve mamma and Flavia making fun of me.’’ he’s sure to appear ! The bell rang, there was a roll of wheels below, | and looking from the window, Mrs. Lysle beheld **Oh, dear me, there's Flavia now ; and look at her clothes! ‘That silk stands alone, and ing her shawl cost a thousand, I’ll bet. She puts on | chan her best thin when she comes here, just to ag- gravate me, - teful thing ! ” ‘With which sisterly remark she turned and ran down to the parlor, © eat ** My dear Cassie, how do?’’ and Mrs Pre: turned a rouged cheek to receive Cassie’s kiss «“<T’ve been out shoppit e live-long day, an it comes off on Thursday.” “Yes, mamma’s been: best of them, care? He’d as soon dress mein a shil- | sessed \ fiance of all her friends could say, she married The old saw runs true. Speak of the devil, and | ra ae re; she told me.” **Ah, I didn’t know. But I want you to come, Cassie, and more, I want you to look your best ; it wouldn’t do for you to stay away ; our set would think you’d make a worse marriage than you have; and) you must not look shabby. What will you wear? ”’ «*Tell me what you will wear, first.”’ ‘Oh, I’ve got one of Worth’s dresses. Preston ordered it himself from Paris. It’s a gem, you may be sure, and the cost was fabulous. He’s got me a new set of diamonds, too, the most elegant things .you ever set eyes on. He’s awfully ex- travagant, Preston is, but he can afford it, you see, and thinks nothing on earth too good or too costly for me.” ‘ Cassandria winced, and tears of passionate anger filled her eyes. “You'll have to get a new silk, and I should think a set of jewels,’’ continued her sister. “¢ Of course, I shall ; Mr. Lysle and I were-con- sulting this morning about what sort of silk I must get,” replied Cassie, her pride and anger both up; “he fancies mauve, but maize is-my choice.”’ ‘You're’ right; maize let it be ; it just suits your complexion, and you must have a handsome lace overdress, and a set of diamonds ’’?— **T don’t know about diamonds. I saw some pearl and opal sets at Doffrafield’s that I very much admired.’? **Oh, dear, yes, they’re pretty, I’ll admit, but diamonds are the thing, Cassie. No thoroughbred woman ever attends a ball without diamonds, and my ball will be a grand one ; and all the creme de la creme, you see, and I want you to do me credit; you take my advice and get diamonds; they’ll cost a trifle more, to be sure, but your husband won’t object to that, will he? ”’ **Oh, dear, no; Romney névér objects to any ‘wish of mine.” “Very well; get maize silk and diamonds,- and you’ll took resplendent; and by the*by, Laud- erdale’s..to be there,” and ~ Harry ‘Napier. You’ll have &chance to break ‘their hearts afresh. And now I must go; it is long past my dinner hour, and ?’m half dead. You'll get the diamonds to-morrow; run by and let nie see them; and J’il let you have some lace.’’ FA Oh, thank you. Ihave quantities of lace.’’ #* Hay ay’ gu? Nice real lace? Oh, well; good- bye, now.” 5 - The rouged cheek» was held up and «kissed - again, and_ Mrs::Prestom went down tor her carriage, and was driven: away. . Cassandria Lysle threw herself upon the sofa, in the old-fashioned parlor, and sobbed aloud in passionate a cand anger. ©, ; ** What shall Ido now?, What brought Flavia here? ' I almost hate her, if she is my sister; I shall die of mortification if Romney refuses to let me have the jewels; but I will have them, 1. 2w#d/, by fair means or foul.’’ She rose erect, and stamped. her pretty foot up- on the floor, all the worst passions in. her heart aroused, E. dares ; All her life, and it was only . the brief span of twenty-one summers, the evil in Cassie Lysle’s heart had been fostered, the good crushed out. Vain, passionafe, proud, and cruel, she yet pos- an ardent temperament, and when, in de- Romney Lysle, she loved him ; but even that love which ht have redeemed and purified her soul, was being choked and killed by the rank growth of viler passions. ey: Day by day, step. by step, this fair winning woman, strayed into the forbidden ways of sin, until her heart was hardened, and her womanly delicacy blunted and her soul made capable of ac- tual and absolute crime. : _ Where there is a will, as the old saw runs, there is always a way. If Satan finds that we are will. to do his bidding, he generally gives us a ‘ot RAB oS Cassandria Lysle was just in the temper to suc- cumb to any devil’s temptation, and her devil’s ame. e she sat nursing her ill-temper, and wait er husband’s return, that she might make fort to force him to consent to. her'wishes, - n girl came in with lights. Jassie,’’ she said, ‘* there’s a peddler on whe Ti he’s got jewelry to: séll ; must in ?? !
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‘“‘Jewelry,’’ echoed Mrs. Lysle, ‘‘but of course it’s nasty pinchbeck stuff; but, let him come in, Kittie, we’ll see what he’s got anyhow.”’ The peddler was brought in; a small, keen-fac- ed foreigner. ‘‘What have you got to sell?’’ demanded Cas- sie. ‘Jewels, madam, diamonds. Ah, you need not smile, I don’t mean brass set with bits of red and white glass, but real gems, diamonds of the first water, that once belonged to a crown princess.’’ «*And how in the world did you come by them ?”’ ‘Ti tell you. Before I left the old country, my grandmother died ; she was a very grand old lady, madame, and lived in an old chateau, but she was poor, her money all gone, nothing left but these diamonds. She died, and left them to me; andicame over the sea, and fetch them with me, and now I want to sell them to some beautiful lady like yourself, for money, to bring my wife and little ones over.” A very plausible story,’? laughed Mrs. Lysle ; but let me see them.” He turned to the table, and unclasped a small, black case which he carried in his hand. Within it was a casket, which he threw open. Cassie started to her feet with a cry of delight. ‘The room’ was in a shimnier of reflected light from the gleaming stones. Necklace, wristlets, and ear-rings, all of exquis- ite workmanship and wondrous brilliancy. **Why, they ave real diamonds,” she cried in amazement, ‘and so beautiful.” “Real diamonds to be sure ; didn’t I tell you 80, lady? Now, wouldn’t you like to buy them cheap?” ‘¢ What do you call cheap ?”” air ‘¢ Fifteen hundred dollars, not one half their value. ”? ‘¢Oh, dear! I could never give that much.” ‘¢That’s a small sum to pay for a set of dia- monds, madame ain.” Mrs. Lysle did not answer. She was fingering the jewels with caressing touches, thinking all the while : “Oh, if they were mine, if I could only have them to wear to Flavia’s ball.’’ The peddler eyed her keenly. ** Suppose you take them out, and put them on,”’ he said artfully ; ‘you can judge better of them then.” She took ‘them out with trembling hands, and Standing before the mirror, twined them amid her raven curls, and about her lovely, dusk throat. ‘‘Oh, -how glorious they are,’? she panted ; “‘how beautiful they make me.” wi ‘As beautiful as a queen,” said the man, ‘I have never seen a woman, until now, worthy to wear them. ‘Wait till your husband comes, (the Servant said he was out), let him see you wear them, and he’ll buy them for you without a word.” Cassie sat dowh with a tremor of excitement. “I’m afraid not ; but I’d risk my life to’ possess them ; if you are willing to wait, I think my hus- band will be in soon.” She removed the jewels, and laid them in a shining heap upon the table. The peddler re- turned them to the casket, and then sat down. oF eon you like to have your dinner ?”’ asked - Lysle. He answered in the affirmatve, and was sent in- to the dining-room to Kitty, but took good care to carry his precious casket with him. Hours went by, and still Cassie’s husband did _not return, Her patience deserted her at last. ‘‘He won’t come, there’s no use in waiti longer ; I must go to bed ; will you reaigah tif morning? ”’ “‘Gladly, madame, if you’ll allow me to sleep here on the sofa.” “©You can have a bed.” _ “No need, I'll lie right here, and put my diamonds under my head for a pillow.” . Mrs. Lysle looked back, as she left the room, and saw him stretched full ee on the sofa, the black case underneath his head. _ “If they were mine—oh, if only they were mine,’? she murmured, as she ascended the stairs. “If they were only mine,” she repeated, sitting down by her chamber window, ‘‘ wouldn’t I make waren Flavia open their eyes? But Romney won’t he of it, I’m sure he wont ; how provoking that he don’t come home |”? ; you'll never have such achance | ° A TERRIBLE DEED, ‘*The night wore away. The full moon hung over the sleeping city, silvering all -its spires; the wind sig fitfully amid the poplars. At her window Cassie sat, not watching for her husband, but buried in deep thought. As the hours crept by, a curious change came over her beautiful face ; her eyes grew cold and hard, and her lips set themselves in a firm line. Once or twice she started to’/her feet, and then sat down again, shuddering violently. A crucifix and a touching picture of the Infant Christ hung above her bed. “Once, in the far, far past, when shé was little better than a baby, her father, never her mother, her father, whom she remembered as a eingy sad-faced man, had taught her to kneel fore that holy symbol, and say her evening prayer. Somehow she remembered it now, and her father’s face as it lay white and dead in the coffin. She started up with a terrified cry, and leaned out at the window. The city lay beyond, the great, gay city, its in- numerable lights blinking in the darkness. Her thoughts flowed back into their old channel. She sat down and thought again, her eyes leaming, that strange, white look on her face. en she left her room, and stole down the stairs like a phantom. The parlor door was ajar, and there on the sofa lay the peddler fast asleep. Kitty was in her bed, the old house as silent as a tomb, but for the drowsy flow of the river that ran_beneath its rear windows. Cassandria Lysle stole back, not to her own room, but to a small reading-room communicating with the parlor. It was lighted by one long, low window, and beneath this was a little ridge of green, and far below the black, swift stream. She looked at the bank, at the window, then back at the sleeping peddiler, and a cruel, tigerish light lit a great, Oriental eyes, until they took on a’ brassy are. fi **E could do it, I’m sure I could,’’ she mut- tered,-her white teeth set hard, her white hands clenched, ‘‘he’s a small man, and I am strong, and his body once down there, who would ever know ?”’ The black river flowed on, the solemn stars looked down, and ‘within the unconscious stranger slept. The woman crept. back to her chamber, and crouched down in a corner like some wild thing at bay. The last few hours had changed her utterly; the devil’s temptation, in her soul, looked out of her very eyes, and Los her limbs the motion of a pantheress that meditates a Spring. She crouched down, and buried her face in her hands.’ The crucifix gleamed in the lamplight, the Infant Christ smiled down from his Virgin Mother’s arms —she took no heed. An hour went by ; she heard the city clocks and bells striking one. She arose again, and going Pe a sort of cabinet, took out a long, bright : , in odd sort of weapon it was, with a curious, twisted hilt, Pa by her husband as an heirloom. ‘She passed keen, glittering blade through her white fingers, and a smile that was terrible to see parted her whitening lips. “No one will ever know, and he’ll do as well dead as alive, and Ishall have the diamonds,”’ she muttered. She hid the weapon in her bosom, and crept down the stairs. At the parlor door she paused and listened awh i Not a sound broke the silence. She looked in, and by the dim light, saw the peddler still lying on the sofa, fast as wi She crossed the hall on tiptoe, and bolted the front door, in order to prevent the entrance of her husband, should he chance to come and use his latch-key, Then she stood still and listened gn No sound but the wind in the poplars and flow of the river. . “I could do it, and the diamonds would be mine,’ she said, in a hissing sort of ‘whisper; ‘‘I could tell Flavia that Romney bought them, and make Romney think them a present mamma, and no one would ever know.” : Once a HH sad drew = = pe ne reast, and grip her white fingers about twisted hilt. if face grew ashen white, her eyes gleamed like fire. She crept to the . arlor door again, and entered. The man upon the sofa lay 3 upon his back, one arm thrown over his head, breathing heavily. Like a tigress she crept across the room, her right arm was upraised, and without hesitation. or- tremor, she struck the fatal blow. The keen blade sunk deep into the man’s chest, just below the heart ; there was a sharp, gasping ery, he strug- gled over, and fell upon his face on the floor. The murderess covered her eyes with her hands, and fled towards the door. ‘*What have I done?” she. gasped. But, almost in the same breath, she overcame her horror and terror, and darted back. “‘ The deed is done, and the diamonds are mine,” she whispered. ig And with shaking hands she tumbled aside the overcoat that lay folded on the sofa, and searched for the black case which contained the gems, It was not there, Avcry of rage es~ caped her white, foam-flecked lips. She flew at the murdered man, lying motionless at’ her feet, and turned him over. The blade of the dagger broke off with a sharp snap ; the blood spurted from the wound, covering her hands and dress ; the white ghastly face was clearly revealed in the dim light. A shriek, like the cry of a lost soul, rang through the silent, old house. The miserable woman wrung her hands together. ‘‘Oh, heaven forgive me!” she wailed out, “*E have killed my husband!” Then she fled from the parlor, closing the door behind her, and. up the stairs to her own room. — ~ ‘IT have murdered Romney,’’ she panted, crouching down before the hearth. ‘‘I have mur- dered Romney. Oh, what shall Ido?” For some minutes she did nothing but shriek and sob, and tear her hair; but, even: in that su- preme moment of terror and remorse, her inborn selfishness asserted itself. She grew’ quiet and silent and began to think. ~ WO Desens * ** Kitty will come down, and my crime will be found out, and I shall be hnng,’’ she gasped, springing up, and darting down the stairs. The house was still silent; that wild shriek had failed to rouse Kitty in her garret chamber. _Rom- ney Lysle’s wife crept on until she reached the parlor door; she pushed it open, and looked in. Her husband lay just as she had left Inm, his white vec Aen looking upward, his limbs convulsed. and rigid. oe AU eee er He's dead; I’ve killed him,’ she panted, | “ must save myself from the law.” Hey D Swift as thought she darted in and closed locked the door behind her; then she seized upon the motionless body, and dragged it | across floor, and into the adjoining reading-room. ‘+ The low window was open, and the flow of the river could be plainly heard. hw ry She made no pause, uttered no word, did not even take a last look at the still face of the man she had loved; she thought of nothing but her own safety. With a strengtlr made superhuman by des- perate excitement, she got the body to the window, and forced it through, then she gave it one swift, powerful motion, and it rolled over the — ledge, and fell into the swift-flowing water below, with a. heavy plash. ives She leaned out, and looked after it; a few eddy- ing circles were all she saw. Lage . “Good-bye, Romney,”’ she said, in a curious, strained voice, and then she closed the window, and returning to the parlor, at once to clean away the tell-tale | pool of blood, and to des- wey prety trace of the terrible crime she had com- mitted. The dawn was breaking when her task was safe. ly done, and arrayed in fresh » She ed. e casement of her own chamber, and looked out. Sweetly and softly the tender tints kindled in the east; the birds began to stir and twitter amid the dewy Pa i boughs, and the lambs to bleat in their fold. ) ir ‘She looked and listened, with dull introverted: eyes, and deaf ears. Sa ‘I have killed Romney,” she said, in a hoarse: whisper; “I have sold my soul for diamonds, and they are not mine.’ ) y OF.
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CHAPTER II. THE BELLE OF THE BALL. Ar nine o’clock, according to custom, Kitty rang the bell for breakfast. Mis. Lysle came down in the freshest of morn- ing wrappers, her hair elaborately crimped, her white cheeks rouged. «¢ Dear me, Kitty,’’ she said, seating herself at the table, ‘‘what can have become of Mr. Lysle? he did say something about being called away on business, but. surely he wouldn’t go without let- ting us know. You must go to his office this morning and find out what has become of him. I feel dreadfully uneasy.”’ Kitty was sure there was no need, her master would turn up.again all right ; and wouldn’t Miss Cassie have some of the dry toast and an egg ; she was eating nothing. Miss Cassie took everything the obliging girl oftered, but failed to swallow a morsel. - ««Get me a glass of wine, or brandy may be better 5, a tittle brandy and seltzer ; I feel wretch- edly nervous this morning.”’ ‘* Poor, pretty, young thing,’’ said the kind- hearted Kitty, as she obeyed. ‘‘She’s worritting bout her husband, that’s what’s tuk her appetite, and he off on a spree; mebbe.’’ Mrs. Lysle swallowed the brandy, and the rouge bloomed redder on her cheeks, and the fire in her eyes deepened. ‘¢ That will do, Kitty, I feel better ; don’t fail to go to the city at once ; it is so strange that Mr. Lysle did not,come home last night.” — ‘Laws, Miss Cassie, don’t you worrit one bit. Men’s curus creatures anyways,’’ “So. they are, Kitty ; and that reminds me of that pedler. Do you. know what became of him?” ‘¢Sneaked out of the house; ’feard some one would: steal his: old-trash, mebbe. I thought I heard a noise down here in the night. I hope he hain’t took nothing as don’t b’long to him.’’ Mrs, Lysle'drew a long breath. . She began to hope that her tracks. were securely and effectually Coverets:: oe lions Kitty went to the city, and returned with the intelligence that Mr. Lysle had not been seen at his place of business since three o’clock of the previous day ; and, by noon, the senior amember of the mercantile firm had made Mrs. Lysle herself a visit. 7 (3 . He looked. very grave and severe, and ques- tioned the anxious wife in a manner that-she did not at all, fancy. Mr. Lysle had left his business affairs ina very tangled state, and had disappeared with money belonging to the firm in his pocket. The young wife’s great Oriental eyes flashed with indignation. | ; ‘* My husband will be able to give'a. proper ac- count of whatever he has done, sir,’’ she retorted, then breaking. down and sobbing, ysterioally, . ‘but surely no harm can have befallen him, my poor Romney?» Oh, sir, do you think so? ”’ The senior member could not tell, but he prom- ised to have the. matter thoroughly investigated, and drove away full of pity and admiration for the re faten in., bis pooke ** Mone onging to. the fim in. his pocket,” repeated... Me, (Lysle, as: the sound. of; ps esr Ww died; away.» : of >i ri , ** Heavens! what.a fool L have been... I should have examined Js Pockets.” ony Anstantly she, flew ‘up stairs to -her, own, room, and exhumed her husband’s overcoat, which she had hidden;in. a'closet; and began to examine it. _» Itday, folded, beneath his head when he received his death, stabs and on, one. side there were a few dark spots,of blood.. Cassandria shuddered, and her/ lips. grew white, but. she did not abandon her search. She dived into the kets with eager, trembling hands, and presently she came upon a bank-book.» She: fluttered over the leaves, and found, with a sudden cry of surprise and delight, two. five hundred-dollar bills. ge The sight of them softened her as nothing else, not even her murdered husband’s dead face, had power to do; her black eyes brimmed over. **Oh, peor Romney, poor Romney,’’ she mur- mured, ‘‘I’m sure he got these for me ; he meant to let me have the jewels after all, and I’ve killed him ; it was too bad, too bad,” She wrung her white hands in agony, and her bosom heaved with suppressed sobs. — A TERRIBLE DEED. Wheels on the gravel below, and a peal of the bell put her remorse and grief to flight. She flew to. the window, saw her sister on the steps, hud- dled the overcoat into its hiding-place, and with the money in her pocket, the money which her poor husband had as good as stolen, rather than deny the wife he loved the baubles she coveted, she ran down to receive her. ‘s What, not dressed, Cassie?’’ cried Mrs. Pres- ton; ‘‘why, I thought to find you all ready for your shopping expedition ; and here you are in your wrapper! I was out for a drive, and the no- tion struck me to call by and take you into town to buy your diamonds. I am so much better a judge of such things than you are, and dealing so largely at Dorrafield’s, I could get them for you something cheaper. Won’t you come? ’”’ Mrs. Lysle played with the silken cord that zoned her waist, not the slightest tremor in a single feature. **] am at a loss what to do,’’ she answered, re- flectively ; ‘‘I ccrtainly intended to go out this morning and make my purchases, but, Flavia, the oddest thing has happened. Mr. Lysle did not come home all night. and hasn’t been seen at his counting-house since yesterday.’’ ‘* Dear me, that’s nothing ; he’s left town per- haps ; but I suppose you haven’t the money ?”’ “Oh, ‘yes, | have,’’ replied Cassie, and her eyes actually sparkled in enjoyment of her pbiade t ‘‘Romney gave me a thousand dollars yesterday morning ; Piece that willdo?’’ -Mrs. Preston raised her eyebrows in well-bred surprise. ‘* A thousand dollars ! Oh, dear yes, that will do; but you didn’t mention having the money when I was here last evening.” ‘‘Didn’t 1? I really don’t remember, but what amItodo? Idon’t feel a bit like going out; I was so troubled all night about Romney, that I scarcely slept a wink.” ‘*Oh, you’re a goose! Romney’s all right! Men don’t always keep us posted touching their goings and comings; he’ll be at home to-night, no doubt. Run and dress at once.’’ Mrs. Lysle hesitated, twisting her wedding ring round and round her white finger. ‘If I were sure Romney would come,’’ she said. ‘I have been so dreadfully uneasy.”’ Mrs. Preston. laughed. ‘‘ Well, you’re amusing ; in love with handsome husband yet, I verily believe. _ Don’t be a silly, Cassie ; run and dress ; my bays are growing rest- ive, they can’t be induced to stand still.’’ st ** But if Romney should not come home to din- ner, ought I to go to your ball to-night?’’ asked Cassie, still irresolute. ‘‘Why,. to be sure; why not? I tell you no harm has befallen your husband ;_ you don’t fan- cy he has been murdered, do you, in this quiet neighborhood ?”’ vassie laughed, but the laugh was forced, and her lips paled and. quivered as she replied. ‘‘Dear me, no; I fancy nothing so horrible as that. Romney spoke of having to go to some place —Ottawa, I think—but ’tis strange that he should not have told me.’’ ‘Yes, a little strange, I’ll admit, but he’ll make it all plain when he returns. ..Come, runand dress, -we’ve not a minute to lose ; I’ve a thousand and one things to attend to this evening ; and it will take us some time to select your diamonds. Be quick, and we'll drive by Drayton. & Seaton’s, and find out if they’ve had news from your tru- ant husband.”’ Pik, Mrs. Lysle left the room, and proceeding to her’ chamber, made her toilet in a very few minutes..; ; . ‘‘Let us call at Romney’s place first of all,” she said to.her sister, as they entered the carriage, ‘Lam so dreadfully anxious.” And to Romney’s counting-house they went. Mr. Drayton, the senior partner, received them, and told the young wife, his eyes full of pity and admiration, that they had not heard a, word in regard to her husband ; there were matters, how- ever, he added, of a very important nature, touch- ing Mr. Lysle’s business, which demanded imme- diate attention, and if she would be at leisure that afternoon, he would make her a visit, and try to make them cleartoher, ‘¢ The business matters? Dear me, Mr. Dray- ton, I shall never comprehend them ; I never could understand business matters; all the same, I beg that you will come, and I feel sure that you will help me ”’ And the great Oriental eyes looked out at the: old merchant, bright with unshed tears. ‘**Poor thing ; poor, pretty creature. blow to fall on so bright a head. must try to help her.”’ : Meanwhile the two sisters were driven to Dof- frafield’s, and the diamonds were purchased—a. pretty, stylish set, costing six hundred dollars. Mrs. Lysle returned home and found her dinner waiting. «No news from Mr. Lysle yet, Kitty ?’’ she asked, as she sat down, with the diamonds in her: pocket. ‘No, Miss Cassie ; none yet. the dinner ?”’ “Yes, Kitty ; ’twill do no good to wait, and. I’m dreadfully hungry.” So Kitty brought up the dinner, and Mrs. Lysle actually found herself capable of enjoying it, though the swift flow of the river could be plainly heard through the open window. She had her diamonds ; and even at that early hour the sharp edge of her horror and remorse was pretty well worn off. Once in a while her tears would rise, and her bosom heave, as she thought of Romney; but on the whole, she wondered te find herself so well contented in so short a time. The way of the transgressor is hard, but not.at the outset. Once in the downward way, our feet glide on so easily. When we harden our hearts and set ourselves to do the deyil’s bidding, we find the task made easy and pleasant to our hands. “ve got my diamonds,” thought Mrs. Lysle, sauntering to the window, when her dinner was over, ‘‘ but I’ve paid a fearful price.’’ She looked out, and saw the water tinged with the ruddy glow of the setting sun, and a cry of horror escaped her lips. ‘* It looks like blood,’’ she whispered under her breath, ‘‘ Romney’s blood.” ‘*Miss Cassie, here is Mr. Drayton in the par- lor,’’ announced Kitty. Mrs. Lysle composed her countenance, assumed a smiling solicitude of manner, and sailed out. **No news yet, Mr. Drayton ?’’ ‘““My dear madam, no, and that’s not all; we shan’t hear any news in a hurry.” The lady clasped her white hands, and her black eyes filled. Some women seem to be en- dowed with crocodile capacities, their tears come: at the bidding. **Oh, Mr. Drayton, what cam you mean?’ Surely nothing has’””—— __ “No, madam, nothing has happened to your husband as yet, but I can explain the cause of his. disappearance ; ’tis a disagreeable thing to do, and I pity you from my heart, but you’ve got to know it. e’s embezzled money _ belongi to the: firm, and finding himself in danger of being dis- covered, he has taken himself off.’’ ad The dainty lace hankerchief went up to the be- witching .eyes, and the young wife broke forth. into piteous sobbing. : ‘*Oh,-my poor Romney, my poor Romney ; I shall neyer see him again, and he was so good to me; he did it all for my sake—my darling Romney.’’ 3 The old merchant was touched. A_ beautiful woman in distress is so apt to move a musculine: heart. ; ‘ ‘‘ There, there, don’t take it to heart so, I beg,’” he cried out ; ‘‘ we may be able to do something. Now, to pursue the legitimate ‘course, we should put the officers of the law on his track ”— +. Cassie sprang up, with a pathetic cry, and threw herself at the merchant’s jeet. 4 ' ‘¢ But you won’t do it? Oh, Mr. Drayton, — please, for my sake, forgive this one error. f you expose my husband, you’ll break my heart. ? It’s a sad! Yes, yes, I Shall I fetch up Oh, for my sake, forgive him!’ * The old-man raised the lovely lady to her feet, “‘Calm yourself, my dear madam, and your request shall be granted. It would be a pity to bring digrace on such a true and tender wife. I]. forgive. Linge for your sake,” e caught his hands in hers, and kissed them over and over again. “Ves, yes, I’ll forgive him, and take him back to his old place, if he’ll promise not to do - again, I'll puta notice in the Herald that he'll be sure to understand, and we’ll soon have him back again, and the secret shall rest between us
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A TERRIBLE DEED. 5 two. There, there, Mrs. Lysle, try and be calm.”’ Mrs. Lysle smiled up at him with eyes all wet with tears. ‘¢ Oh, sir, I shall never forget you, and if I live, the money shall be refunded.” ‘‘ Never mind that, madam, a few hundreds, more or less, will never make or break us.’’ And Mr. Drayton took his leave. “An uncommon: fine woman to look at, and very seductive,”’ he mused, driving cityward, and free from the glamour of Cassandria’s presence; *<and I’d lay a big wager she’s to blame for the whole thing. Young and dressy and extravagant, and Romney, poor boy, couldn’t find it in his heart to deny her; and, by Jove, I don’t much blame him.”’ \ “That was nicely managed,’’ said Cassie to her- self, when her visitor was gone; ‘‘it would have killed me outright to have Romney’s name pub- licly disgraced ; but the old man will keep his word—he’ll forgive Romney, and recall him. But he can’t come,”’ she added, with a sudden-burst of grief ; *‘he’ll never come again. Oh, I wish he could. Idid not want to kill him.’ She shuddered from head to foot, and throwing herself on a lounge, gave way to a perfect storm of sobs. Kitty’s voice interrupted her: «¢ Miss Cassie, I am ready to help you with your toilet now, and there’s no time to loose.’’ She arose and dried her eyes. “‘Oh, Kitty, I don’t want to go; I’m so misera- ble and uneasy.” ‘No doubt, ma’am, but you’d better go; the _ ball will amuse you, and make the time pass quick, and who knows but to-morrow may bring some news from Mr. Romney.” ‘Ah, who knows?’ she repeated, with a shud- der; but she went up to her chamber, and was dressed for the ball. In her maize silk, with a lace garniture and diamonds about her dusky throat, and on her round wrists and amid the braids and tresses of her raven hair, no eastern princess ever looked more resplendent. i She was the belle and the beauty of Mrs. Pres- ton’s drawing-rooms; no other woman was so openly admired, so eagerly sought after, and.she threw her trouble and remorse to the winds, and danced and sang, and flirted with an abandon and thorough enjoyment that slightly astonished her sister, “ *€One would think, Cassie,” she whispered ‘in her ear, ‘as she sat down from a waltz with her old admirer, Mr. Lauderdale, “that you had ‘quite got over your uneasiness about Romney; I never saw you looking so gay or so handsome.”’ ‘J never felt gayer—to the winds with‘all care —I have paid my price, let me enjoy myself.” _ ** Your price; why, what do you mean?’?— **Nothing at all; don’t bother me, Flavia,” and she was off again, sailing down the glittering room, her cheeks like roses, her eyes brighter than her diamonds. ~ * Tow beautiful she is,’’ said her mother, look- ing on well pleased ; ‘‘Dear me, what a pity it | was she threw herself away on Romney Lysle. [I «an scarcely refrain from hoping he may never furn up again.” ** Vain hope, he’ll be sure to turn up ; bad pen- nies always do ”— Mrs. Preston’s rather witty speech was cut short ve the entwance of her husband,. wearing a startled ace. ‘*Flavia,’? he whispered, ‘something very - dreadful has occurred ; some fishermen have found Romney Lysle’s body.’’ His wife uttered..a. suppressed shriek, and clutched her husband’s arm, ‘‘ His body? Is he dead then ? _ «Yes, drowned in the river, poor fellow. They. found him down below the bridge, and have taken tthe body home ; who will break the. news to Cas- “sandria ??? Cassandria came whirling down on her partner’s ‘arm, her diamonds .twinkling like so many stars. She caught sight of the anxious group, and the -tich color died out of her cheeks. ‘What is it? ” she gasped, tearing herself free sof her partner’s arm, and crossing the room. «* What bog happened, Flavia ?.”’ . ‘*Come with me, Cagsie,’’? whispered her sister. “Try and be calm,’? But the guilty woman’s limbs refused to support her. ‘*What is it ?’’ she demanded, her’face growing livid with terror. ‘‘Speak quick! is Romney dead ? have they found him ?”’ -*© Yes, my poor child,’? said Mrs. Preston, ‘*they have found him ?”’ There was a wild, awful cry, and the beautiful belle of the ball-room, robed in her laces and dia- monds, fell, face downward, in a death-like swoon. Romney Lysle’s body was found, all drenched and drowned, and so horribly mutilated about the face that his nearest friends could never have iden- tified him but for the garments he wore, and the watch in his pocket, which was inscribed with his name. The fishermen dragged him up from the river, and he wascarried home, and laid out in the old-fashioned parlor. His young wife was mad with grief. In her ball-room robes, with jewels on her bosom and in her hair, she threw herself down beside the stark, disfigured body, and shrieked, and moaned, and wept, in a perfect abandonment of woe. ‘*How she loved him, poor, pretty youn thing,” thought the old merchant, looking on wit pitying eyes, ‘‘and he did the wrong for her sake, ait then took his own life rather than meet the consequences ; poor fellow, poor Romney.”’ And when the funeral was over, and Mrs. Lysle sat white, and grief-stricken, and interesting in her flowing crepes, Mr. Drayton drove out to see her, bearing the sympathy and good wishes ofthe firm, and something more substantial in the shape of a well-filled purse. Ms The young widow received it with becoming grace and gratitude. **T shal will enable me to put a nice monument above my poor Romney’s grave.’’’ And in a week a handsome shaft of Italian mar- ble marked the murdered husband’s resting-place. “Tam safe now,’’ thought the guilty wife ; **my crime is hidden in his grave; no one will ever know. My poor, dear Romney! I did love him, and it was a horrible mistake to make ; but after all it is something to be free again. I-mar- ried once for love, but love and poverty won’t thrive together, as mamma used to say ; when I marry again, it shall be formoney.” CHAPTER TIL. A GHOSTLY FACE. .A YEAR and a half went by. The grass was wing rank and green oyer Romney Lysle’s pa in the old churchyard, and-the poor fellows name was well-nigh forgotten. +9, + Surmises touching the manner of his death had ceased, and the busy tongues of the village gossips clacked about more recent topics. _ The old house by the river was shut up, and wholly deserfed save by bats and owls, and the young widow lived in the city with her mother and sister, «My dear Cassie,’’? cried Mrs. Preston, on a certain April evening, bursting into’ her sister’s appartment in full dress, ‘‘are you. never coming down? Heavens above, you haven’t even, begun to dress, and here the guests will be coming in ten minutes. Will you send that child out of the room, and make your toilet ?”’ Cassandria laughed. She was sitting before the hearth, wrapped in a half-mourning dressing- gown a baby boy, not yet’a year old, lying on er breast. ‘ ‘Send you away, my precious ; how can mam- ma?’ she said, kissing the child till she almiost smothered him. ‘Aunt Flavia never had a boy of her own, that’s what makes her so cross and hateful.” ae oh, Aunt Flavia’s gray eyes. flashed. **You would have done wisely, my dear, to haye followed my example,’’ she replied, with se- vere gravity, ‘‘depend upon it, you are quite bur- den enough on the hands of your friends, there was no need of a brat; moreover, the encumb- rance will assuredly injure your prospects. Men do not care to have, children thrust | upon them, never forget you, Sir,’’ she faltered,’ | pressing the merchant’s hand: “your kindness yet, and your husband, who ought to be a and with children of his own, ten to one that Laud- erdale ever gives you another thought.” ‘Lauderdale can let it alone, then,’’ returned Cassie, her cheeks reddening with anger; ‘you talk like an idiot, Flavia. The brat, as you very elegantly term my child, was not a matter of choice, but a necessity.’’ ; ‘**By no means,” interrupted the miilionaire’s wife ; ‘‘mamma’s suggestion would have done away with all the trouble. She entreated you, and so did I, to go into seclusion for a year after your husband’s death. There was no need that the world should ever know of the child’s exist- ence, and we promised you it should be well cared for ; but as usual, you must have your own way, and you’ll go on having it to the end of the chap- ter, 1 suppose, to your own ruin, and the disgrace of your friends,’’ Mrs. Lysle caught her child to her breast with a sort of passionate tenderness, and kissed it repeat- edly before resigning it to Kitty's arms. hen the truth was revealed to her, some short time after her husband’s death, she would become a mother, she was absolutely wild for a time with angry disgust. But with the first touch of the child’s baby hands, with the first sight of his tiny face, so like his father’s, her whole being underwent a change. She loved the babe with a wild, fierce, passionate sort of feeling, such as a tigress feels for her young, and ajhope sprung up in her guilty soul, that by devotion to Romney’s son, she might, in a mea- sure, atone for her terrible crime. **[?’m glad I had my own way,” she said, as the child was carried from the room; ‘*I wouldn’t be without my baby for the round world—not even for the charice of becoming Mrs. Lauderdale. And don’t fret over my prospects, Flavia, you and mamma ; I shall continue having my own way, as you say, but I shall outshine you both yet. tt Lauderdale don’t come to the rescue, some other eligible fellow will. l-twen (i judge, tells me that Iam the very handsomest woman the State.” ” wet Mrs. Preston, who’ was a very plain woman, flushed and bit her lips. She did not at all relish her husband’s openly avowed admiration for her sister. — **My husband! Oh, “pooh, you listen to all Preston’s flattery. A fig for your doll-baby face. Men of culture and birth and fortune always’ pre- fer tact and grace and breeding ; beauty attracts only fools ; since I come to think of it, 1 never. knew.one of your really pretty women, to make a good match in my life.”? Biniged: wx ‘Really now! Well, that accounts for the ex- traordinary good match that you made, I suppose, Flavia.” take eae And Mrs. Lysle waltzed twice around Fe ioten, and then touched the bell, and settled herself in. an arm-chair, preparatory to the entrance of her maid and the commencement of her toilet, Mrs. Preston, magnificent n a lavender silk and old point, and diamonds, grew green with rage, and swept out of the room in silence. ° **I declare, it is insufferable the wa y Cassie m on,”’ she said, as she entered. her mother’s i Se ‘‘and I won’? put up with it. One would think, being utterly dependent on us for the bread she eats and the clothes she wears, she would at least be civil and grateful ;'on the contrary, no grand duchess ever carried herself more loftily. And Preston upholds her, too, flattering her about her beauty, and all that sort.of nonsense, and goodness knows, I can’t see where shé looks better than the comnion run of women, with her brown’ skin and gipsy eyes. . amma, sitting before the mirror arranging the white crimps beneath her point-lace cap, turned smilingly round. / ; ’ wi “ Ob, my dear, she’s a beauty ; Cassie has her failings, but she’s a beaufy, there’s ‘no manner of doubt about that; the sort of beauty, too, that men most admire. She takes after ihe, you see; she is precisely what I was at her age.” The millionaire’s wife bit her lip, and her pale, gray he flashed angrily . “Well, I hope her beauty ‘will win her a second husband, and that speedily,” she said, spitefully, ‘‘for I’m heartily tired of having her under m roof ; she’s a perpetual torment, with that horrid child that she must keep with her, to say nothin; of the expense she incurs. Preston’s rich, ll ad \ Iam not fivetand-twenty
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be A TERRIBLE DEED. mit, and can afford some little extravagance, but there’s. limit a to all things. Have you any idea, mamma, what her outfit for to-night costs us? ”’ Mamma, fastened her amethyst pin, a costly trinket, and a gift from her wealthy son-in-law. ** Not less than a couple of hundreds, I should say,’’ was her serene answer; ‘*but don’t be pe- nurious, Flavia, that is but a drop in the ocean to your husband, and_it is so important that we keep up appearances.. You wouldn’t haye your sister appear in public badly dressed, I know?” ** Assuredly not, but there’s a limit toall things; as I said, nothing suits Cassie but the best, she must have Lyons velvet, when glace would have answered every purpose, and Preston wouldn’t have objected, if she had asked for a robe of gold. However,’’ and Mrs. Preston’s severe brow clear- ed, ‘‘I shall not begrudge a dollar we have given her, if she only makes a proper use of her advan- tages, but I predict in the outset, that she’ll spoil everything by her willfulness and lack of common sense. Even if Lauderdale renews his suit, and I shall be surprised if he does, since she refused to rid herself of that child, ifhe does, and she has a chance to become his -wife, it .will be just like her to run off with the coachman, and commit. some equally disgraceful act.’? aving delivered this sage bit of augury, Mrs. Preston sweeps out, and descends to the drawing- rooms to welcome her assembling guests; she gives an entertainment, not quite a ball, and not quite a social, but a genteel combination of the two, in honor of Mrs. Lysle’s re-appearance in society. Mamma left to herself, shakes out her graceful skirts, with a little amused laugh. «Poor, dear Flavia, how hard it goes with her :. to be $0 plain! That’s the secret of all her bitter ' feeling ; she envies her sister’s beauty, and not ' much wonder, as openly as Preston admires it. Tis a_pity 3 her extreme ugliness, she takes after ‘ her father, poor thing! He was a horrid man to - look at, but his money made up for it! Dear _ me,” giving a last touch to the silky white crimps, a last look at the fair old face, ‘*how comfortable we might have been if that fearful panic hadn’t ruined us! However, I’ve managed to get on quite nicely, owing to Flavia’a good marriage, and if my hopes of Cassie are realized, all will go think I’!l drop in and she how she looks.” The regal old lady rustles out, and is about to cross the corridor, when a stifled shriek startles her. ~ The next minute the door of her daughter’s room flies open, and Felice rushed out in breathless terror. ~ «Oh, madam, quick, quick,”’ she gasps, ‘my lady is dead.” | , Mrs. Dunbar hurries into the chamber.. On the floor, all robed in her velvet and laces, lies Cassandria in a dead swoon, and scattered all about, her are her diamonds, like a shower of fall- en stars. ey he does this mean? how did’ it hap- pen?” demanids the astonished old lady. Felice. tmggles terribly for English words, and gesti * es in the wildest manner. ~ **Madam was all dressed—her velvet was grand _ —her lace all nice—her hair on so lovely ! she - tells me to fetch her jewels! I take the diamonds out, and clasp the necklace, when madam cries ~ out, and snatches them off, and scatters them all ' round, and points to the window yonder! ‘Look at him, nGak st gay ar ered Pie at wie whispered, and then am drops down, an . at oa ad, and : to h ‘*Raise her head, and put my vinaigrette to her nostrils—no water, you idot, you'll ruin her cloth- ing, and do wot ring the bell ; would you alarm the house for nothing? Mrs. Lysle has fainted, nothing more ; you keep this room too close.” Mrs. Dunbar seats herself on a sofa, and gathers up her skirts, looking seriously on, while poor, terrified Felice rushes hither and thither in a panic. _At last, however, she raises Cassandria’s head, and gets a pillow under it, and puts the pungent salts to her nose. The rigid limbs relax, a faint color flutters back to the death-like face, the black eyes flare open. ‘¢Cassie, my dear, what is it? Are you ill?” asks the old lady. so paliapenabed Cassie utters a stifled cry, and hides her eyes in the pillow. **T saw his face! Oh, mother, I saw Romney’s tace,’’ she whispers. Mrs. Dunbar rises, and seizing her daughter’s arm, gives her an angry shake, ‘Get up, this instant,”? she commands. ‘Come here, Felice, and assist your mistress! Only look at your dress! what a fright itis! and I hear music below ; we should have ‘gone down half an hour ago! Flavia wasright when she. predicted that you’d ruin everything by your lack of com- mon sense. Felice, stop staring like a fool, and | gather up those diamonds under your feet.” Cassandria totters across the room with a wild shriek. . ‘© OH, take them away! take them out of my sight !’’ she implores, both hands pressed hard against her eyes ; his face will come again ; Rom- ney’s murdered face—take the diamonds away, Felice. Felice gathers up the shining stones ‘with shaking hands, while Mrs, Dunbar follows her daughter. “Cassie, are you a fool?’ she cries, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. ** Do you. ‘wish to disgrace vobrselt and me, and be turned out of your sister’s house ? What do you mean ?”’ ‘*Mamma, I saw his face at that window yon- der,’’ answers the wretched woman. **You’re an idiot. You saw no face—you only imagined it. Come, let Felice put on your dia- monds, and rearrange your hair, and we’ll go down.’”’ , But Cassandria’ starts away, with a shriek that makes the house ‘ring the moment the diamonds touch her white wrists. ‘**Take them away ; oh, take them out of my sight; I’ll never wear them, never touch them again while I live; there’s blood upon them— Romney’s blood; take them away, Felice, or his face will come again. Oh, therciful heaven, look there! I see it again! his dead, murdered face |” And she recoils fo the farthest corner of the room, her shaking hand pointing towards the western window. Mrs, Dunbar turns and looks, and so does Felice, and both of them catch the flitting shadows of a white face. ~ The French girl rends the very air with terrified cries, and then falls headlong in a fainting-fit. The handsome old. lady utters something that sounds very much like an imprecation. ‘*T hope she’s dead, the idiot,’’ she says, spurn- ing the girl’s inanimate. body with her dainty foot ; ‘*they must have heard her in the drawing-rooms. What wi// Flavia say. ‘‘ Cassie,’’ and she fairly springs upon her daughter as she crouches in the corner, her eyes hidden in her hands, ‘‘ get up this instant, or never while I live will I forgive you. You saw nothing but the footman, or one of the servants ; what makes you such a fool? Why, one would think you murdered Romney ‘Lysleé way you go on. ‘*What! What! Who says I murdered Rom- ney ?”” gasps the miserable woman, springing to her feet, her face livid, her teeth chattering; ‘it’s a lie. I didn’t murder him; he was arowhid, they dragged him out of the river; who says I murdered him ?’? ; ‘I believe in my soul you’ve gone mad,” cries the old lady, ‘‘ why every one will say it, and be- lieve it too, if you go on this way. What’s the matter with you ?” ‘Nothing, nothing. ee Sauer ae now,”’ s Cassie, st rately for self-com- enue “Pm est afi iar eons dad imagine all sorts of silly things, that’s all. What have I'said?”’ ‘** Heaven knows what you haven’t said ; all sorts of wild nonsense. I’m shocked at you. Only see my dress how it’s tumbled, and I’m sure my hair is all out.of form: And you, you look more like a lunatic than a genteel woman, and dear me, there goes Flavia’s bell, warning us for the second time that we are wanted below. Shake that stupid girl, will you, and make her get up and re-arrange your dress, We must go down at once.”’ : “*So we must and will—there now. Felice, Felice, get up like a good girl. It was the footman we saw at the window, what a goose I was to let his face frighten me so; get up Felice, and make me ready to go down.” ~ And Mrs. Lysle tries to laugh, and goes off into hysterics instead. Her mother seizes apa a flask of brandy, and pours out a wine-glass full. e * = eS ee an Meunier, “«¢ Drink it,”’ she says, and Cassie tosses it off at a single draught. The color comes back to her white cheeks, her limbs begin to grow steady. Felice still shaking with mortal terror, essays to repair her disheveled toilet, and fails. The old lady pushes her aside, with a sharp re- primand, and does it herself. She gets the shining black braids and tresses into order, shakes out the rich velvet and laces, and touches a little rouge to. the changing cheeks. ‘* Now, that will do nicely ; give me the dia- monds; Felice.’? Mrs. Lysle shuts her lips close to suppress a cry’ of terror, and shivers in every limb, as her mother clasps them on, her wide, startled eyes watching the window with furtive glances; but shemakes no. objection, and at last, her toilet is complete. *¢Look at yourself,’”? commands ‘her mother, as: she fastens a cluster of moss rose buds im her hair. ‘“‘You are the handsomest woman I ever saw, and I’ve seen a good many. Now, will yowgo down to the drawing-rooms, and win: a rich husband ; or, will you make a tool of yourself ahd be turned. out of your sister’s house ? for. Flavia will surely turn you out, unless you do’ her eredit to-night.’” The young widow’s pride takes fire. She draws: a deep bent as she surveys her regal figure and perfect face. “‘T don’t think I shall make a fool of myself, or disgrace Mrs. Preston,’’ she-replies, and accept- ing her mother’s arm, she sweeps down to the drawing-rooms. They are well filled ; all her old friends, and quite a number, of new ones, Mr. Lauderdale, a. trifle older and grayer and uglier; Harry Napier,, handsome and winning and witty as ever, fresh. from the Continent, and with him an illustrious: peacuser, the lion of the day, Count Ferdinand. e Boganville. Mrs. Lysle is eagerly welcomed. . An hour after her entrance she reigns queen. Mr. Lauderdale unbends his dignity, and suc-~ cumbs at once to the old witchery of her charms ; Count de Boganville is introduced, and pays her the most flattering attention, ‘A charming man, a very charming man to be: sure, is Count de Boganyille,’? remarks Mrs Dunbar to her daughters, as they were separating for the night, or the morning rather, for it is far on into the ** wee, sma’ hours,’? when the company” broke up, and the last carriage rolls away ; ‘he: is well bred and well read, and the name is an. ancient one, I wonder if he’s rich ?” Mr. Preston laughs. “‘ That’s the all-important question,” he puts in, ‘“good birth, good qualities, not even a sounding: title, can outweigh the almighty dollar. They say he’s rich, with chateaux in France, and villas. in Switzerland, but these French noblemen are: slippery fellows to deal with, asarule. He may be all your fancy paints him, ladies, a handsome,, high-born son of the house of De anville, and. he may turn out a cook or a coachman—-there’s no. telling. He’s in love with Mrs. Lysle, that’s e tent, and I give him credit for his good taste ; but. asa friend, I’d advise Mrs. Lysle to think twice. befor she accepts him, He’s winning and Lady De Boganville sounds ever so well, and Lau- derdale’s an ugly old customer ; all the same, m dears, Lauder es by far the best match, and if you’ll take my advice, Cassie, you'll take Lau- derdale for your husband, ’’ The young widow makes no reply. She seems. lost in a maze, «‘Count Ferdinand De Boganville,’? she mur- murs, reflectively, ‘I certainly never heard the name before, but I’ve seen the man himself. When was it? where was it? and who is he ?” ‘*He’s Count De Boganville, according to his. own account,’ replies Mrs. Preston, pettishly, ‘and you’ve never seen him before to-night, Cas. sie and there’s no use in trying to get up a mys- tery ; let’s goto bed.”’ And to bed they go, as the opal dawn begins to. break above the eastern hills. Cassandria clasps. her boy, Romney’s boy, close to her heart, and falls a sleep ; but her dreams are troubled. That white, cold face, as she saw it from her dressing- room window, peers down upon her through the: arted curtains, her murdered husband’s face. She starts up with a frantic cry, and when at last she again drops off into a feverish doze, she fan- |} cies that her sin has found her out that. the.
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be | A TERRIBLE DEED. ~ — eae world knows her for what she is, and Count De| ‘Lady De Boganville sounds very fine, and I’d Boganville is her accuser. - CHAPTER IV. A STRANGE INTERVIEW. MRS, LYSLE was dressing for a drive with Harry Napier, when Mrs. Preston brought the package up. i cream-colored envelope, highly scented, and ‘stamped with a foreign crest, and an exquisite little jewel-case. Cassandria seized upon the letter with a scream of delight. ‘*It is from De Boganville,”’ she cried, «‘ I know his seal, and what on earth has he sent me ?”’ She fairly tore open the case in her eagerness, and there on a bed of blue silk was the loveliest sét of rubies that eyes ever beheld. ‘‘Dear me, how beautiful,’”? exclaimed Mrs. Preston; ‘do read the letter, Cassie, and see what he says ; it must be a proposal, of course.” ““To be sure ; I’ve been looking to hear from him this week or two, he.as good as told me what his intentions were at Mrs, Murtagh’s reception, and wherever I go, he’s eternally at my elbow ; the horrid creature ; his rubies are exquisite, and I shall break my heart over giving them up, but I wouldn’t marry De Boganville if he were Emperor of France.” ‘¢Bless my soul, why not ?”’ cried mamma, put- ting aside her French novel ; ‘‘I fancied you hked him excessively.’’ Cassie laughed nervously as he broke the crested seal, ‘Liked him? Why, it gives me a chill of hor- ror every time I set eyes on him. . I believe in my soul the man is possessed of some evil power ; his eyes are curious, and when he looks at me! Ugh! I can’t bear to think of it. That night at the re- ception he managed to get me into the green- house, and it was all I could do to keep from shrieking aloud! If I were his wite, I should ex- pect him to murder me as Blue-Beard did his wives.” ‘‘Pshaw, what a simpleton you are, Cassie,” said the millionaire’s wife in disgust. ‘‘ You take up all sorts of crack-brained fancies. Count De Boganville is an uncommonly agreeable man, and his preference does you honor—read the Jetter.”’ e pretty young widow’s white hand shook nervously as she unfolded the scented sheet. “My pear Mrs. Lysix,’’ she read, ‘‘thete is no need for me to repeat what youalready know. I am your captive, your willing slave, won by the witchery of your wonderous beauty. I want you for my wife. If you require any references touch- ing my character or circumstances, you shall have them. : ‘« But I cannot bear to see you smiling upon my rivals, and feelin doubt about my ultimate suc- cess in winning you. Think the matter over, and if you can favor my suit, wear the accompanyin jewels at the soiree to-night. I shall look in al confidence to see you wear them, and, my dear madam, I advise you not to nen Sr me. «©Yours, devotedly, *¢ FERDINAND DE ANVILLE.”’ Cassie opened her black eyes wide. ‘He advises me not to dissapoint him! , Well, now, I call that impudence, to say the least.’’ ‘ He’s French, my dear, and Frenchmen are al- ways peculiar,’’ said mamma. “Then I don’t like Frenchmen, and Count De Boganville will have to bear his disappointment. T shall send his jewels back, but don’t I hate it! What beauties Tae are! Only see, mamma.’? Mrs Dunbar looked on, with all a woman’s love for such trifles in her eyes, while Cassie laid the lowing stones against the purplish bands of her lack hair. “« They certainly are very fine, and they would quite match your wine-colored silk; Lauderdale hasn’t spoken yet. Suppose you wear the jewels to-night, and become Lady De Boganville.”’ _ Her tone was only half bantering for a woman of the world that she was, andthe Frenchman’s flat tering manners and high-sounding title, had quite captivated her. The widow shrugged her white shoulders, as she dropped the jewels into the casket. like to wear the rubies, but Lauderdale will speak, and Lauderdale must be my husband. It is bad enough to be forced to take Aim, with his grizzly beard and squint eye, but one consolation, I shan’t feel afraid of him, and he’s so delightfully rich. Only think whatit will be to have five thousand per annum for pin money, and half a dozen whole- sale houses packed with silks and velvets at one’s command. Ah, Flavia! you’ve queened it over me for some time: when Iam Lauderdale’s wife, my turn will come.”’ «When you are his wife, yes ; but I very much doubt that you ever will be; you have a chance to marry this French adventurer, and have him tum out a cook or a coachman on your hands, but Lauderdale’s another man. Don’t count your chickens before they are hatched, Cassie.” “If it were my misfortune to be as plain as you are, my poor Flavia, I should not dare to do such a thing; but being, according to your husband’s judgment, the handsomest woman in the State, I may safely count on every egg.’”’ Mrs. Preston’s answer to this provoking speech was a stinging slap, which made her sister’s cheek redden and tingle, and filled her black eyes with a dangerous fire. ‘‘ How dare you?” she cried, raising the hair- brush she held, with a menacing gesture. ‘‘ How dare you insult me with your Se are speeches, under my own roof, too, and beholden to me for the very bread you eat?” retorted Mrs. Preston. Mamma rose from her sofa in the bay window and put aside her toy terrier, causing that pam- pered animal to shake her silver bells, and to bark ae ‘‘My dears, my dears, I’m astonished,’’ she cried, coming between the enraged sisters; ‘‘I didn’t think you capable of such ill-bred conduct. Cassie, put away the rubies if you have decided to send them back, and hold your tongue.” Whether mamma’s saterysisis form would have succeeded in keeping the amiable sisters apart is a matter of doubt, but a knock at the boudoir door restored smiling serenity in an instant. ‘« If you please, Miss Cassie,” said Kitty, look- ing in, ‘Mr. Napier is at the door in his car- riage.”’ Miss Cassie screamed with delight, after her childish fashion, and flew to the window. “« Ah, the darling fellow, how handsome he is,” she cried, peeping through the lace curtains ; ‘‘if one could only have him for a husband; and he ihe adores me teo; but his income barely cots his tailor’s bills, and that puts an, end to it; but I musn’t keep him waiting.”’ She flew at her hat and mantle, and was all equipped and half across the hall in a trice. «« What business have you riding with him at all when you’ve no notion of accepting him?” said Mrs. Preston. ‘« We all do foolish and unbecoming things, my dear,’’ she replied, looking back over her shoul- der ; **for instance, you wz// wear rose-pink and point-lace to-night, when Quaker-drab would suit our face far better. By-bye, my gentle Flavia, -bye, mamma—please pack up those lovely ru- bies, I can’t bear to do it myself, and send them back to the count; you may write a line if you will, sorry I can’t accept, and all that sort of thing.” : «Phen you are quite decided, Cassie ? ”’ “‘Quite decided, mamma! Lauderdale will speak to-night, and I shall accept him, I never could mi the count, though I'd. dearly love to be a'titled lady ; the very sight of him gives me a nervous chill ; I believe he’s a vampire ; I wish I had never set my eyes on him!” : She fluttered down the Stairs, and was seated in her old lover’s carriage, and driven away through the May sunshine ; and, according to instructions, mamma put up the glowing rubbies, and returned them with a polite line of regret to Count De Bo- ganville’s address. Mrs. Lysle had a charming drive, and listened with flushing cheeks and smilling eyes to Mr, Na- | g pier’s tender avowal ; but she had strength enough to resist him. ; _ **I like you ever so well, Harry,”’ she said, while the mettled bays pranced on, and he held her soft fingers in his clasp ; ‘¢ a great deal better than any man I know ; all the same, I must refuse you. Tam poor myself, and I cannot afford to marry a poor man ; Imade the mistake once, and. bitterly regretted it. I’m not the sort of woman to be a poor man’s wife. I believe in the old say- ing, ‘When poverty comes in at the door, love goes out at the window.’”? So that ended Mr. Napier’s second dream. “Poor fellow,” sighed Cassie, putting on her wine-colored silk that evening; ‘chow devoted he was, and so handsome ; if only he had Lau- derdale’s money how nice it would be!”’ The drawing-rooms at Clyde Place were filled at an eatly hour, and as usual, Mrs. Lyle was the centre of attraction. f The young widow, with her black locks and pink cheeks, and: eastern eyes, was the rage; every man in town, eligible and uneligible, was. in love with her... Her tablets were soon full, and it was growing late, when Mr, Lauderdale suc- ceeded in getting speech with ‘her. ‘‘ These rooms are very close, Mrs, Lysle,’’ he said, in his grave, stately way ; suppose we take a turn on the terrace ?”’ ned Cassie consented, a smile of triumph dawning in her eyes. She slid her little white hand within his arm, and they madc their way out of the ball-room. Under the stars, Mr. Lauderdale cleared his throat several times before he found courage to speak, His first marriage had been based on mercenary inteyests, but this beautiful woman at his side he loved. ‘¢Mrs. Lysle,”’ he began at last, ‘ I don’t much like to subject myself to the humiliation of being asecond time refused, and yet I cannot rest satisfied until I speak. I loved you before you mar- ried Romney Lysle, I love you yet. Icannot ex- pect you to feel forme what you felt for your young husband ’?——— ‘‘Hush, hush; why do you speak of him?” gasped Cassie, her cheeks growing white. ‘‘T beg your pardon,” continued her companion ; ‘ ‘‘even now, Llike you better than any one ¢! will be your true and faithful wife.” He bent over her with grave tenderness, and kissed her trembling lips, as he put a showy dia- mond on her finger. , Returning to the glare and glitter of the draw- ing-rooms. Cassie’s momentary emotion all van- ished, she felt nothing but unalloyed triumph. “The deed is done, and my day is at hand,” she whispered to her sister, holding up the finger on which the diamond glittered. Mrs. Preston smiled, but the smile was rather a hastly one. She liked to badger, and command, and patronize her sister, but the idea of seeing her a wealthier woman than herself was not at all agreeable, ‘I wish you joy, I’m sure,’’ she managed to say. Cassie laughed, *“You wish me no such thing; you are ready
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a _ ’ dé — A TERRIBLE DEED. —s to die of envy. Your face is actually green. Dear me, Flavia, you should not wear rose-pink, ’tis so dreadfully unbecoming. I don’t remem- ‘ber ever to have seen you looking so plain.” Poor Mrs. Preston found no chance to vent her wrath, but was forced to smother it in silence, for at that minute Count De Boganville appeared, and claimed Mrs. Lysle’s hand for the ensuing «dance. The dance over, he drew her out of the crowd, cand into the adjoining room. ** Throw this shawl over your head, and come with me,’’ he said, catching up a silken web that trailed over the arm of a sof The widow turned and looked at him, her red lips curving with contempt. “‘Tsit a custom in France, Count De Bogan- ville,’ she asked, ‘for a gentleman to address a lady as he would a dog?” The count shrugged his shoulders, anda curious | gleam lit his sharp, restless eyes. ‘¢ We won’t discuss the customs of France just now, Mrs. Lysle ; come with me ; it is delicious in the gardens, and I want to talk to you.”’ e seized upon the trailing shawl, and threw it about her white shoulders, and drew her hand within his own, and Cassie had no power within her to resist him. The glowing gaze of his eyes seemed charged with strange mesmeric power ; she shuddered with vague terror, and obeyed him, as the charmed bird flutters helplessly into the fangs of the serpent. e music was striking up again ; she knewshe should be missed from the ball-room ; the man she had just accepted for her future husband would | wonder at her absence ; yet she suffered the French | count to lead her out beneath the summer stars. “You would not wear my rubies,’’ he said, when they had reached the Willow Avenue, turn- ing and facing her. , _* No, I could not,’’ she faltered, her heart in a flutter of ‘range, nervous terror. -«¢ They were beautiful, and very valuable, and I fancied you were fond of jewels ?”” -She could see the glitter of his eyes in the light of the young moon; and the touch of his fingers on her hand seemed like fire. “Her very limbs shook under her; she had no power to command her voice. Who was this man? What was he that his presence terrified her so? _**Let me go in,” she effort | free her hands; * are thin.’”” ut he held her fast, and laughed a low, taunt- asped out, making an t is damp and my shoes ing) sat in nach a hurry to leave me? What’s the the matter, Mrs, Lysle? You are’ not: afraid of ~ “No, but you have no right to keep me here. I OS eR mar es first why you would not wear my ru- bies?”’ , i _ Cassie’s temper blazed up and her eyes flashed. . “4:4 have sah you-—because I did not choose to Wear them, because I do not love you, and cannot Shigeo Ata : > Frenchman laughed again, a laugh not pleasant to hear. - payee grimgis then, that you love the man you’marry, Mrs. Lysle? I beg your pardon, but did you love your first husband ?” ‘ She gave a sudden start and uttered a suppres- sed cry, and then she tore herself free from his «What is it to you, sir, whether I loved him not? You have no right to question me ?”’ "Pardon, madam, but Ihave. All things are fair in love, and I love you te distraction; I have loved you for months.” ‘The widow laughed scornfully. pena <‘ Months, Count De Boganville? Our acquaint- ance scarcely dates over a month ago.” * Are you sure of what you say, madam? Look at me well.” She looked at him with dilating eyes and quiver- ing nerves. Was he a madman or was she loseing her senses? What was it about his handsome, sinister face, and in his fiery eyes that thrilled her with such strange sensations ? ‘<I met you at my sister’s reception for the first time, Count De Boganville,”’ she replied, strug- gling desperately to keep her self-control ; ‘‘don’t make me regret that I ever met you at all; stand out of my way, please.” : or ‘* Whether you regret it or not, my dear Mrs. | ae **So. you are,’ put in Flavia’s husband ; don’t Lysle, it is all thesame ; I love you, I have loved | mind what Flavia says—did you ever know one you, as I said, for months, and one of these days I| woman to say that another looked well? I don’t shall make you my wife.’’ ** Count De Boganville !’’ ‘*My dear Mrs. Lysle! handsome you are. I have seen many beautiful women, never one like you. I couldn’t bear to lose you.” **You’ll have to bear it then ; do you see this ring upon my finger? Mr. Lauderdale put it there not an hour ago, and in a month he will be my husband.”’ ‘* Happy Mr. Lauderdale! Ina month? Well, on the whole, I don’t object to the arrangement. A month hence you will be his wife ; another month may you see his wealthy widow, and then my turn will come.”’ «‘ What do you mean? Are you a mad man or an idiot? Let me go this instant !”’ ‘*No matter what I mean at present, my dear. Marry Mr. Lauderdale. as soon as you please; we’ll make our arrangements later, ”’ Cassie’s self control was quite gone. She wrenched herself from him, and made an attempt to escape, but his supple fingers clutched her arm ere she had made a second step. *¢ You shall suffer for this, sir,’’ she panted ; ‘* you shall answer for this insult ; let me go. I won’t hear your nonsense one minute longer. you’re a lunatic !”’ *¢ You'll hear me quite as long as I see fit to keep you here, Mrs. Lysle,’’ he answered, his voice calm and cool, his mocking eyes on her face, his fingers on her: wrists like hot steel ; ‘‘don’t you know that every living thing has its master? I am yours, my beautiful Circe! Your master, do you hear? and you are as sure to do my bid- ding to the letter, as you are to breathe! There, there 5; softly now, you must hear me out.» Iam neither fool nor madman, as you fancy. Who and what I am, you will find out.in good time. . And, my beautiful Cassandria, you, who bewitch men with your wondrous beauty,.and make them mad for your love, shall I téll you what you are? Lend me your ear for one minute.’? He drew her close to his side, bent his. head, and whispered a single word-in her ear. Every vestige of color died out of her face, she uttered a low, gurgling cry, her eyes stared up at him full of wild horror, and she sunk slowly down, like one dead at his feet. 7 He‘ looked down at her, lying in a shining dis- heveled heap on the wet grass, and laughed, ex- ultantly. “*What a glorious creature she is; dangerous | as a pantheress, and beautiful as an angel.» It) is something to have such a woman so utterly under one’s control. What I command, she will do. Well, let her marry Lauderdale, I shan’t interfere ; a few months more or less will be the difference ; one day she shall be mine ; I have sworn it, and I'll keep my oath.” : leitout ob He turned on his heeland left her, lying like one dead, under the gloom of the drooping willows, CHAPTER) V. MR. FALKLAND. Mrs. LYSLE was in the drawing-room for the first time in several weeks. Since the night’of the ball, at Clyde Place, she had been dangerously ill. Mr. Lauderdale found her that night, lying amid the rank of ‘the Willow Avenue, dead, as he at first believed. And the terrible swoon was very much like death ; it was hours before she recovered consciousness, and then one fainting fit followed another, until she sank into the stupor of a brain fever. For days she lay at the very door of death, but in the end her splendid constitution triumphed, and she lived. Pale and thin, but even mbre beautiful than ever, she sat at the sunny window, in her becoming dress of black silk, a scarlet flower in her bosom, another amid the bands of her raven hair. *“You look wretched, Cassie,’’? remarked Mrs. Preston, coming: in, ‘I’m really afraid you’re not well enough for a drive.” ‘Ves, 1am; a drive will do me good, Flavia, and I fancied I was looking quite well.”’ think I ever saw you looking better, Mrs. Lysle.”’ Mrs, Lyslie acknowledged the compliment with Dear me, how very | a graceful bow and her sweetest smile, while poor, plain Flavia bit her lips in vexation. ‘<I suppose you will settle with Mr. Lauderdale about your wedding day this morning, my dear ??’ remarked mamma, taking a sugared almond from her gilded bon-bon box and fossing it to her pet dog, ‘‘or would you like me to speak to him aboyt it ?” ‘*Dear me, no, mamma, there’s no necessity ; I can roy it. Lauderdale is very impatient ; the earlier the day, the better he will be pleased,”’ replied the pretty widow, looking out into the sun- shine with wide, solemn eyes. ‘So shall I,” continued mamma. I don’t fancy long engagements at all; if you had not fallen sick at such an inopportune time, everything might have been settled now.”’ . ‘: The oddest way to fall sick, too,”’ put in Mrs. Preston; ‘‘fainting dead away without any cause; I can’t understand it yet. I’ve an idea that that French count was at the bottom of it, somehow,”’ ‘¢You have such a few ideas, as a rule, Flavia,”’ replied the widow, quietly, ‘<it would be a pity to +b ou of this one.’ r. Preston laughed uproariously, to his wife’s extreme. provocation, ”’ ‘*You must see to the settlements, Preston,’ continued mamma, treating the dog to a second sugar plum, and ignoring the merriment alto- gether, ‘‘I want them legally made. Lauderdale promises that Cassie shall have five thousand per annum, in her own right. You must have it down in black and white ?’—— ‘¢ Ah, to. be sure, I’ll see to it ; five thousand a year’s.a mere nothing to Lauderdale; he’s doubly as well off as I am.’’ Mrs. Preston coughed nervously and withdrew to. the. flower-stand that occupied the southern window, followed by a glance of malicious triumph from Cassie’s black eyes. ‘¢ Speaking of business matters reminds me of your house, Mrs. Lysle,’’ continued Mr. Preston ; ‘¢T’ve a chance to sell it now—the old river house I mean, where you used to live.” ; The fitful pink faded out ot Cassie’s cheeks. «You can sell it, you say ?”’ she said, nervously, “I’m glad of that—pray do so without delay.” The millionaire shrugged his shoulders. “*?Tis.a nice bit. of property, Mrs. Lysle ; if it belonged to me, I should think twice betore I let it slip through my fingers. That river bottom is one of the finest bits of soil in the State, and the old house itself might be converted into a charming country seat, with very little cost.”’ The widow threw up two deprecating hands, her eyes wide and startled, her cheeks ashen. ‘* Don’t speak. of sucha thing,’’ she cried, ‘‘T detest the place ; I never want to see it again ; for mercy’s sake let it go.”’, . Very well,”? said her brother-in-law, some- what surprised at her vehement earnestness, ‘it shall be as 'you say.””. ;' ‘One would fancy you would like to hold on to it, Cassie, considering how fond you were of poor Romney,’’ said Mrs. Preston, maliciously. ‘‘That’s all nonsense,’’ interrupted mamma, closing her bon-bon box, and pushing the pam- pered dog aside. “1 agree with Cassie about sell- ing the place ; it is perfectly detestable, What can you get for it, Preston??? ‘¢ Five thousand,”” ‘*Cash?’’ questioned the fair old lady eagerly. ‘¢ Cash,”’ assented Mr, Preston. ‘¢ Then close the bargain at once. Cassie, my dear, how opportune the money willcome in. You will need so many little things to complete your wedding outfit, and if I am to go with you abroad, I shall want a new wardrobe complete. I haven’t an article that isn’t getting shabby.’’ ; ‘Very well, mamma, the money will be at your disposal when Mr. Preston gets it,”” said the pretty widow, the. rich color returning to her cheeks. ‘lam tosell it, then,’’ said Mr. Preston, re- gretfully. ‘* Bless my soul, what fools you wo- men are! You’d sell your souls, if you’ve got any, for money tobuy gew-gaws! I hate to see the property go; it would come in for your son,
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- -by-and-by: Mrs.: Lysle, you’d better keep it in your hands. want.’’ ‘¢ No, no, no, I want it to go. excitedly. . ~ «AN right, all right, Pll let Mr. Falkland know at once.”’ 4 j ‘* Mr. ‘Falkland, is that the man who wants to purchase it ?’? questioned Flavia. «© Ves, he’s a new-comer,; and rather-an odd.sort of genius, judging from his'looks.”? *¢ Has he a family?” ‘© No, he is a bachelor, going ‘to live all by him- self, a sort of scientific hermit, it appears.’ Well, V’ll be off. © There’s Lauderdale below, Lysle! Bless us, what a turn-out he does sport. Tha: pair of grays would bring more money than your farm any day.” Cassie turned toward the window, and her black eyes flashed with exultation at sight of the glittering equipage that awaited her. Ina few days she would be the*very wealthiest woman in | the State, the ‘queen of fashion, the mistress of | /month hence, and here in my hand are’ five thou- the handsomest residence in town. Her troubles were pretty wellover ; her day of triumph was at hand. Her palor was all gone, and she looked quite as beautiful-as*she had ever ,appeared, even in ‘the fresh bloom of her girlhood, when she ran down | Stairs, arrayed for a drive. Mr. Lauderdale met her'in the hall,:and led’her | out to the carriage, his grave face’ all alight with | : | forth we will reign and rule in’ purple and fine love and pleasure. *«My darling, my beautiful darling,” he said, as he séated her amid the luxurious cushions, ‘*I am so glad to see you getting strong and well again. You cannot think what I suffered, dear, during those terrible days when they told) me at any hour I might lose you. That is all past, thank heaven ; and now; my dearest,’ you won’t make it | ~ long until you are all my own ?”” *“*No, Mr. Lauderdale ; I will become your wife any time you wish.” He caught her hand, and carried it to his lips, as the carriage-door shut them in, and the mettled horses went off: like birds down the sunlit street. The wedding. day was appointed one month hence, and after a long and delightful drive, Mrs. Lysle returned home in the best: of .spirits. **Walk into the drawing-room, Mr. Lauder- dale,’’ said Mr. Preston, meeting them in the hall; * you’ llfind the ladies there ; I: know you don’t like it, but I must carry Mrs, Lysle off tothe libra- to attend to a small business matter.- Come, Cassie, if your old house: by the ‘river: must’ be sold, you must see Mr. Falkland; and make’ the mecessary ‘arrangements.’’ **Why, is Mr. Falkland here?” ‘Yes, he’s in the library awaiting your coming. He appears'to be dreadfully anxious ‘to get the ‘place. “When I told him he'could have’ it, he in- sisted on accompanying me home and settling the matter eer Boreas j - ; eV well, ‘glad*he did; and I’m much gtatified to see t sttid old place sold.’”? ~~ And Mrs. Lysl with her pretty, coquettish hat ‘surmounting her raven braids, a diamond lustre in “her une and primrose pink in her cheeks; followed Mr. Preston into the library. i} - APgentleman rose as ‘they entered; a slight,: pale, foreign-looking person, with a heavy blonde beard, and curling,’ blonde hair. Hats ‘Mr. Falkland, this is Mrs. Lysle,’”’ said Mr. Preston,’ bristling in. tx The widow nodded, and Mr. Falkland bowed profoundly. ©. q ‘“Mrs. Lyle hasn’t changed her mind, after the manner of ladies,’’ continued Mr. Preston ; she is still willing to sell ‘the place, so we'll fix up the °preliminaries at once.” whe “¢ Very well, sir,” responded Mr. Falkland. At the sound of his voice, Cassie looked up with a start. | His deep, dark, melancholy eyes were ‘fixed tpon her face, with @ curious expression, which ‘made her heart flutter, and brought a vivid ‘color to her cheeks. : For some reason his presence seemed to agitate her; she could scarcely control her voice, and her “hand shook so when she was called upon to sign ‘the necessary documents, that Mr. Preston looked te i a D Why said ; ‘* what’s the matter ?’’ I'll let you have all the money you | : I shall never | rest satisfied until Iam rid of it,” cried: Cassie, | | In an instant the widow was herself again. . Lysle, how nervous you are,’’ be A TERRIBLE DEED. ‘* Nothing, only I’m tired, and as soon as you are done with me, I’ll go.” ~~ «*You’ve nothing else to do but receive your money from Mr. Falkland’’ That «gentleman .was already engaged count- | | ing 1t out, and Cassie received it from his’ hands. and left the library in a tremor. **T can’t think what has come over me,’ she mused, crossing the corridor to her. mother’s room, “<The least thing aggitates me so; and I’m always meeting such odd people. There’s Count De Bo- ganville, the very sight of him gives me a nervous chill, and ¢his man, this Mr. Falkland, the. sound of his voice went right to my heart., He re- |minded me of Romney. Ah, heayen,’’ and she Mrs. | pressed her hands against her throbbing breast, and spoke in passionate whispers, ‘‘if I-could for- get that / But something is continually bringing it back! If I could only forget Romney /”” * Mamma’s door opened, and -Lilybell /flew ‘out jingling all her silver bells, and barking furiously. ‘*7 bring you good news, mamma,”’ she cried, as she entered. ‘*My wedding day is. one little sand dollars, ithe price. of that dismal old house by the river. Our troubles are all) over, at last, mamma.”’ Mamma tossed her novel across the room, and arose, and took her daughter to her bosom. «My pretty Cassie,’’ she said, embracing her, ** you have not disappointed me! Yes, our troubles | are well over at last, thank heaven ; from hence- linen.”? CHAPTER: VI. THE GHOSTLY FACE, THE wedding day was one short week off. Mrs. Preston’s town-house was in a bustle of prepar- ation,. and Mrs. Preston herself. was busy from morning till night, giving orders, making pur- chases, and issuing invitations. Mamma, who was to accompany the bride to | Rome, had little time or thought for anything save her own silky white crimps, and her new silks and laces, The beautiful bride-elect looked on in indolent énjoyment. It had never been one of her habits to do anything for herself that could by any pos- sible means;be put off on another, hence she left matters in her sister’s hands,-and,/spent her morn- ings in the nursery with her bey, and her evenings in the midst. of her admirers; while her marriage preparations went on, oor Flavia was very ill-tempered, and furiously jealous, but she did her duty faithfully ; and know- ing as she did, that the sceptre of her queenship would soon be transferred to her sister’s hand, she very wisely held her tongue,and kept her bitter feel- ing to herself. The preparations went on, the ¢rousseau.came home from abroad, and the wealthy lover poured gifts of the rarest and most costly kind upon the woman he. adored; jewels and Jaces of fabulous price, and rare,eastern fabrics, and dainty trifles of | P every device. f : And Cassie, who.all:her., life. jong. had dreamed of and longed for such things, who loved them with a feverish passion, in her delight and gratifi- cation, almost grew to love the fond and generous man who was to be her husband. “J willbe his true and faithful wife,’’ she said to herself, overlooking her wondrous treasures ; ‘¢T will make my future blot out all that dreadful, horrible past.’’ And the wedding day was but one little week “J think Pll take Rommie out for a drive this lovely afternoon,”’ said Cassie, - strolling up-stairs when lunch was over ; ‘‘ the dear little fellow al- | ways enjoys, a drive so much, Mamma, shall Lilybell go with us?”’ ‘<No,”? answered mamma, sharply, looking w from the laces she was assorting ; ‘* Lilybell shan’t go, and I’d advise you to stay at home. A pretty complexion you’ll have on your wedding day driv- ing about the country under this ing sun. Can’t Kitty take the child out?” “Oh, to be sure, but I like to take him myself ; sd and my fortune’s made, you see, so what does it: matter about my complexion ?”’ Fras de *« Your fortune:is not secured yet. You remem- ber the old saying,‘ There’s many..a slip *twixt the cup and the tip,’ ??-put«in Flavia, who was. writing out invitations, | |. Cassie shrugged her matchless ,shoulders, and _ glanced at her perfect figure reflected in the long | mirror. vr “That trite adage applies only to plain women, my dear,” she answered; wickedly ; ‘*a woman | without baauty never feels sure ‘ofeither lover or husband. In my case it is quite diflerent—once my slave, my slave forever. At is not at all prob- | able that Lauderdale will throw me over, even if | my cheeks are a bit tanned. Order the pony-car- riage, Felice, and tell Kitty to get the’ child | ready.?? Flavia bit her lips, and went on directing ‘her tinted cards, and the young widow stood at the window. watching the sunlight on the distant hill- tops beyond the town. She was in perfect health again, and radiantly beautiful ; her tinted chéeks. soft as the hue of a seashell, her ripe, rich mouth, her dazzling smile, and her witching eyes were the wonder of the town. Men lost their wits for love of her, and envied grave, stately, wealthy Mr. Lau- derdale so fiercely that many of them could have | Puy, a bullet through his heart. oor Harry Napier had thrown up his commis- sion and gone off to the ends of the earth ; and Count De Boganville, finding there was no hope | for him, had suddenly disappeared, no one knew whither, to Mrs. Lysle’s infinite relief. And there: was one poor fellow, only two and twenty, a widow’s only son, who had spent his last dollar in costly gifts to lay on this Circe’s shrine ; and, ther finding there was no hope for him, withher mock- ing, cruel laugh ringing in his ears, and her love- ly face haunting him, had gone off and drank him- self mad, and then ended by blowing his own brains out. ls Of course Mrs. Lysle was not to blame; she could not help being beautiful, and she was too sen- sible to distress herself in the least over the fate of her unsuccessful lovers. ; She watched the shifting sunlight, her shite ay 8 drumming softly on the glass, a smile of self-content parting her red'lips. dive The past was drifting so far away from her, that. black shadow of crime and horror, was growing less and less every hour; she had her boy, and she: would soon have wealth and power; what was there to hinder her from being a py woman? Her secret was buried forever, er ge never find her out. ~ ee pA oe: ‘‘T shall be back.in time. to dress for dinner,” she said, as the pony carriage whirled up the drive , d Kitt ith rt, - an itty appeared with the vavia, iP en ie mh have a glorious ride.” and, leapin from the nurse’s arms, clung to his moth i Ph ‘He was a pretty, promising boy, wi father’s own'face; and although ‘his mother o shuddered when she looked at him, or c ; by name, she loved him fondly, and one Street, nies dashed off down. the maple st rom thence out amid the green country lanes, __ The child laughed an Piped, and. Kitt caught the trailing branches of wild honeysuc e and primrose, until the carriage was filled, with. blossoms; and the young mother laughed and made the ponies go like the wind, ary The town. was left far behind them, and they’ went on under the arches of thick woods, and. _ down into the green valley where the river ran. ‘Mamma, mamma, drive the ies down to oe big water; Rommie wants to see it,’’ cried the 'y- “ ‘The mother looked down toward the river with wide, solemn eyes, the rich color dying out of her: cheeks. The old horror was coming back upon her, oneishe could not shake it off. ; ies flew on; she seemed to have no: ; to check they, or turn them from the shaded. lane that led straight on to the old river house that: had’
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A TERRIBLE DEED. ence been her home; a fascination like the spell of | a nightmare led her on, A sort of shuddering longing to see the old i once more possessed her. She let the horses ave their way, the carriage whirled round a wooded slope, and the lone, old house perched above the river came into full view. Cassie looked up at it with a gasping breath. # There was the long portico all hung with scar- ‘Slet trumpet flowers; there were the windows of the “room that had been her bridal chamber. Her “eyes filled with hot tears. How happy she had been with Romney in the first days of her wife- hood. She let the reins fall, and catching the prattling boy to her bosom, kissed him passion- ately. ‘** Don’t mamma, you chokes Rommie; lemme see the old house, it’ll fall wight down in the wiver presently. Oh! oh! look, Kitty, look, mamma, dat’s a bug-a-boo in dat window.” Mrs. Lysle looked quickly, and in that window which overhung the river she caught a glimpse of a white face. ‘Tt is nothing, nothing, she said resolutely, seizing upon the reins, and tugging with all her might at the ponies’ heads, but they would go Straight on, and a fascination which she could not resist, drew her eyes back to the old house ; and there, framed in that window like a ghastly picture, looking straight down upon her, she saw the face of Romney Lysle. The reins fell irom her pomeneas hands again, and a wild, gasping cry of terror and horror broke from her lips. The horses leaped forward, wild with sudden fright, dragging the carriage after them at a frightful rate. ‘* Oh, Miss Cassie, stop ’em for heaven’s sake !’’ cried Kitty, holding the child in her arms ; **they’ll go over into the river if you don’t.” But the wretched woman did not move or speak. She lay back upon the cushions white and rigid, and to all appearances lifeless. Kitty grew wild with terror; for on one side of ' the lane the river bank was high and reibtis d and the least turn of the runaway horses wou send the carriage down to sudden and sure de- struction. She rose in her seat, and holding the frightened child with one arm, got hold of the reins, and made an effort to stop the ponies. . But instead, she only hastened the catastrophe she wished to avert, e mad animals plunged and reared, and shied violently towards the right, and with a crash the carriage went over the bank, and was precipitated into the river full twenty feet below. 7 * * * * * Mrs, Lysle’s senses came back to her in the hush of a darkened chamber. Her head felt dull and stunned, and she had a cruious feeling that she had been dead and was just coming back to life. “She unclosed her eyes and looked about her. A soft light burned on the crimson-covered stand, and in a rocking-chair before the hearth sat a mid- dle-aged woman dressed in deep mourning. re was she? Not at home; yet the room had a familiar look. ‘Her eyes wandered over the old-fashioned corn- ices, and the low, white-curtained bed, and she listened to the low, ceaseless flow of the river. For a minute, in a dreamy, half-unconscious sort of a way, she fancied that the past had come back, that she was a young bride again in Rom- ney’s Lysle’s home, and her heart began to bound and thrill with joy, But with her next breath a great terror fell upon her. “Great heaven, where am I?’ she gasped out. The woman sitting before the hearth arose and igh nse the bed. Cassie, now fully conscious, oy gled up to a sitting posture, and grasped her arm. *¢ Who are you ?” she demanded fiercely, ‘‘and where am I?’ ; The woman made an effort to put her back upon her pillows. . - You must not excite hone my dear,’’ she said’; “lie down again, I beg. I had no idea you could move ; please lie down fora minute, and 1’)1 call your friends ’?—— - But. Mrs. Dyate threw off her grasp with the strength of a maniac. iy *¢ Hush, hush, tell me where I am; tell me quick !’’ she panted. *s You are at Mr. Falkland’s house, my dear, and your friends are all here’’——— “At Mr. Falkland’s house? the old river house? Oh, merciful heaven, I thought so; listen to that horrible river? Why was I brought here? Stand out of my way, I won’t stay here one minute longer—this place is accursed. Oh, heaven, I shall see hat awful face again—let me 0.’ With a wild bound she leaped ont of bed, and ushing her attendant aside, made for the door. t was unlocked, and she tore it open, and went reeling and stumbling down the passage, her long black hair trailing over her white garments, her face fairly livid with terror. ‘¢ She is out of her senses, poor soul,’’ cried the woman, following her, and calling loudly for help. A dooropened, and Mr. Falkland appeared, just in time to stop the frantic woman, as she was a headlong down the stairs. His face was as white as death, and his limbs shook under him, but he caught her in his arms, and held her firmly. ‘©Come back to your room, Mrs. Lysle, and 1’ call your sister,”’ he said, ‘‘she is here, and you are not well enough to excite yourself.” But she struggled in his arms, and her wild shrieks fairly rent the air. ‘‘Let me go, let me get out or this horrible house ; why, in heaven’s name, was I brought here?” ‘*It happened by an accident ; ill ; try cae ‘calm yourself, Mrs. shall know everything.”’ Somehow his voice soothed her ; she ceased to struggle in his grasp, and finally suffered him to lead her back to her chamber. ‘- As she reached it, Mrs. Preston came running up the stairs, followed by Felice. ‘«In heaven’s name, what has happened now !” she demanded. ‘‘Nothing at all,’? answered Mr. Falkland, cheerfully, ** only your sister is conscious at last, as you perceive madam ; she was a little excited finding herself in a strange plac , but she’ll be ali right now that you are with her.” “Flavia, Flavia, for mercy’s sake take me home;’’ implored Cassie, rushing to her sister’s side, and catching both hands; *‘ don’t let’s stay in’ this house.” ‘¢Heaven knows I don’t want to stay here,’’ replied Flavia petulantly ; “I never could endure the horrible old place ; I believe in my soul it is haunted, for when I tried to get a wink of sleep, after all my fright and fatigue, that dismal old room below was filled with such unaccountable sounds, it fairly made my hair stand on end ; and then’”?——- ‘*Oh, I wouldn’t talk in that strain, Mrs. Pres- ton,’’ put in Mr. Falkland, who still lingered ; «don’t you eive that your sister is excited ? hr and soothe her, and get her to sleep.” asse did not utter a word ; she sat on the side of the bed, her long hair streaming over her white garments, her great black eyes full of strange, brooding terror.”’ Mrs. Preston made a gesture of an tience, as shé beckoned Felice to her side. ‘‘Mix that composing draught, and get Mrs. Lysle to take it,” she commanded, sinking into an arm-chair, ‘‘and Ido hope, Cassie,’’ she went on, **you’ll be obliging varie to go to sleep and keep quiet for the rest of the night.” ‘«Ts it night ?”” questioned Cassie. ‘‘Why, to be sure it is ; don’t stare at me in that way, you make my blood run cold; upon my soul, Cassie, you look like a maniac. There, Felice, that will do. Now, drink it) at once, Cassie, and then lie down.”’ **T don’t want to lie down ; my head feels bet- ter when I’m sitting up,”’ said Mrs. Lysle, as she swallowed the potion. What’s the matter with me, Flavia? Have I been ill?” “No; but you came within a hair’s breath of breaking your neck. You would ‘go out driving, you know, though maimima and I both protested ak it,.and you drove into the river—that’s all. on have been ysle, and you impa- Cassie’s eyes widened, and the pallor of her face grew even more ghastly. _ ‘‘ Did the pony carriage go over? I remember now, we were on the brink, and—and ’—~ She uttered a sort of gasping sob, and covered her eyes with her hands. Mr. Falkland, who stood with his hand on the doorknob, hurried to her side. ‘My dear Mrs. Lysle,’’ he said, ‘‘ you must not excite yourself in this way. Do lie down, and let Mrs, Prestom go to sleep too, and my housekeeper shall return and sit by you.’ “No! no!” said Flavia, ‘I shall remain now that I’m here. I know Cassie better than you do, Mr. Falkland; she can’t let any one about her en- joy a moment’s comfort; if I tried to sleep, by the time I Fe my eyes fairly closed, she’d shriek out as she did a minute ago, and have me up again.” “You should be rejoiced to see her conscious, I think,’’ returned the gentleman, gravely; ‘‘ excite- ment even, is far less dangerous than the uncon- scious lethargy of an hour ago.”’ Oh, to be sure,’’ replied the millionaire’s wife, es- tablishing herself comfortably, with her feet in another chair. ‘Im glad to see her conscious;— an hour ago I was almost sure she’d never speak again;—no one but herself would have been to blame; she’s accountable for everything that has happened.” ‘ *¢ Oh, a. replied Flavia, resuming her comfortable posture again, ‘‘she’s got to know it, and one time is as well,as another. Kitty’sdead,”’ she went on, ‘*the horses’ fell on her, poor crea- ture, and crushed her horribly, and your child would have been swept down the current, but for Mr. Falkland there; he risked his life to save him; and then got you out more dead than alive. Now you know the whole thing, and you may thank your own headstrong folly for what has hap- ned. If you had been killed yourself, as. we lieved you were at first, I should not have pitied you, nor would mamma. Why can’t you doas you’re told? A pretty figure you are, and our wedding day only a week off. I told. you ow it would be; I say again, ‘there’s many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip.’” *« And I say, what I said before, that trite adage only applies to women like yourself, Mrs. Pres- ton,’’ retorted Cassie, her black eyes beating. to flash ; ‘+I can afford to postpone my wedding day, and yet have no fear of losing my bride- groom ; he’ll be glad enough to get me.even at the eleventh hour. Thank heaven, I shall never hold husband or lover, as you do, by the mere force of a bond of honor ’?——. ‘Hold your tongue!’ eried Mrs. Preston, flouncing out of the arm-chair, and out of the room, ‘‘I won’t stay here and be insulted ; you may take care of ponretlt Preston didn’t want me to come, and I was_a. fool) for my pains ; if
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39 Ss you shriek yourself hoarse, “you'll not rouse me in to-night.” And the lady went sweeping down the stairway, with the air of an insulted queen. ‘*You may follow your mistress, Felice,’’ said Mr. Falkland, as he rang the bell. Mrs: Chud: leigh will sit with Mrs. Lysle ; and now, I beg of you,’’ he continued, as the girl “withdrew, turning to Cassie, “lie down and keep quiet. You were in a very critical condition an hour or two ago, and all this worry and excitement will teli on you to-morrow.”’ ~ Let me see my child, and I will’ *¢Come, then, you must’ only look in at him ; he must not be’ disturbed ; I am a sort of Jack-at-all- trades, Mrs. Lysle, and I do something in the way of materia medica now and then,-so you may rely ‘upon what Tsay.” He took her arm and led hér from the:room and across the hall, to an apartment that used to be Romney Lysle’s dressing-room. : : ‘*The house seems familiar to you,” he ‘re- marked ; ‘* you lived here once, I believe ?”’ ‘¢Ves, I lived here once,’’ she answered, in a choking voice. He opened the door softly, and looking in, she saw her boy lying fast asleep, his curly head pil- lowed on his arm. ¥ ‘« My darling—my pretty darling—what if I had lost him ?”’ *¢ You would have borne the loss, and have for- gotten it in time, as you did his- father’s loss; there is nothing enduring on earth, Mrs. Lysle.”’ She shivered from head to foot, as she leaned upon his arm. _. Come away,” he said, clositig the door, *‘ the child must sleep, and so must you, or you will be seriously ill to-morrow.” They found the housekeeper already established in the chamber, and Mr. pa peng —_ his leave, repeating his injunction for . Lysle to sleep ; but, despite the composing draught, through all the remaining hours of the night the wretched woman lay with wide, staring eyes, and excited nerves, listening to the ceaseless flow of the river, and thinking, thinking of that one terrible thing which never, through ‘all time or eternity, she would be able to forget. _ As the dawn began to redden, she arose and threw’ the casement wide open. The sky was all bright with tender tints. the birds were chirping amid the rustling trees, and the folded lambs were bleating. : ~ On just such a morning she had looked out once before, her soul sick with the horror of her awful crime. ; ‘The horror was with her still, She had no eyes for the tender loveliness of the dawning day. She could not hear the twitter of the birds or the bleating of the lambs, only the dreary flow of the river sounded in her ears ; and above the gloomy waves, dark beneath the overhanging foliage of fur and hemlock, she looked every moment to see that ghastly, accusing face ar. “Her crime was securel iden: as she believed, from all human knowledge ; nevertheless, it clung to her like a haunting curse, turning the best joys of her life to bitter ashes on her lips,’ The wages of sin is death, ’ CHAPTER ‘VII. A GHOSTLY VOICE. Tue wedding was postponed for a fortnight, to Mr. Lauderdale’s extreme dissatisfaction, an Mrs. Dunbar’s great provocation. ~ “Tt is too provoking, upon my soul,” said the old lady excitedly, pushing Lilybell from her Jap, in her indignation, when she heard the news; “the wedding put off. _ Ten to one it ever comes off at all now; Lauderdale ma ate his mind, or something else happen, and even if it is otherwise, our clothing will all be old-fashioned and out of style, and we shall reach Rome too late for the carnival. I’ve no patience with Cassie; I shouldn’t have cared if she had broken her neck and been done with it.” - Mrs. Preston laughed as she stirred her choco- late, with evident enjoyment. «What did I tell you, mamma? ”’ she said, tri- umphantly ; ‘‘didn’t I predict how it would all A TERRIBLE DEED. turn out? Didn’t I say that Cassie would run away with the coachman, or do some equally dis- graceful thing? If she don’t bring us to shame and sorrow in the:end, it will astonish me.’’ **And disappoint you too, one would infer, my dear;’’ laughed Mr. Preston, rising from the table; ‘‘gracious heavens, what creatures you dainty women are! What venomous claws you sheath under your: pretty velvet fur! Nothing pleases you so intensely as another woman’s down- fall, even when that woman is your own sister. I can’t see, Flavia, why you need be so hard on Mrs. Lysle.’’ ‘“And I can’t see why you need be so soft on her,’”? retorted his better-half, furiously ; you’re always taking her part,and squandering | your money on her, and I won’t put up with it.” **Won’t you, my love? All right, your will is law, of course; only I’d be obliged to youtotake those'green ribbons off, they’re horribly unbecom- ing ; what a pity it is you haven’t a little of Mrs. Lysle’s exquisite taste;’’) and Mr. Preston took up his hat, and sauntered out of the room, whist- ling : “You promised to bring me a bunch of blue ribbons, To tie up her bonny brown hair.” Poor Flavia, pushing away her cup with such violence that she overturned it, jumped up from the table, and throwing herself on a sofa, burst into hysterical sobbing. ‘*T won’t put up with it, I won't,” she cried, ‘*to be insulted in this way, and on her account. Let her come back to my house, and I’ll turn’ her out of doors.’’ Mamma laughed derisively, as she tossed'a tid- bit of pheasant’s breast to Lilybelli: | *You’ll do no such thing, Flavia; don’t be a fool! Cassie is aggravating, I’ll admit, and’ one would fancy her unsound of mind from the way she acts. Ican’t understand this last escapade of hers at all. Why she chose to drive down that dismal river road, and over the bank, passes my comprehension. Why she persists in nursing that child, and will postpone her wedding day, is stranger still; nevertheless, we must put up with her whims. She may be Mrs, Lauderdale next week, and, you see, my dear, she isn’t to blame for your lack of beauty. You inherit it from your father—he was the ugliest man I ever saw, and Preston is right about those n ribbons, they are horribly unbecoming. Ring the. bell, if you please, and order the carriage round ; i’ll drive over and see how that miserable child is. What a relief it would have been, if they had let him alone when he was in the river. I detest going to that old house, but as I have an engagement with m dressmaker, ’ll take it in my way, and see if can’t induce Cassie to come home ; it is all non- sense about the danger of moving the’child.”” But Cassie could not be persuaded to leave her child, and the doctors declared unanimously that he must not be moved. A slow fever had set in on the day following the accident, and the little fel- low lay in a very dangerous condition. ‘*He must net be moved, Mrs. Lysle,’’ said Mr. Falkland, ‘but you can return home’ your- self, and safely trust him in my hands ; all that can be done for him, I’ll do.” But despite her horror at the thought of remain- ing in the old house that had once been her home, Cassie determined to stay. She could not desert her child ; cruel, and wordly, and wicked, yet she was not wholly devoid of human feeling. Mr. Lauderdale drove over in his handsome car- riage, and msisted upon removing the boy, but the doctors declared the child could never survive it, and the idea was abandoned, and’ the wedding- day postponed. “Tf I only had poor Kitty,’ thought Cassie, sitting in the darkened chamber, sad watching the little tossing figure as the slow hours went by. But even then poor Kitty’s funeral procession was winding down the village road towards the cemetery. _Felice was with her, and Mr. Lauderdale and his housekeeper were ready and willing with their help, but Mrs. Lysle found the old house un- utterably dreary. and suffered untold tortures of horror and remorse. - _ She lived over that dreadful night a thousand times ; and sometimes, while every merve in her body was thrilling with terror, impelled by a fas- cination, a curious something, stronger than her IE own will, she would creep down the stairs and open the parlor door, and look in at. the sofa standing in its old place, her eyes dilated, her face ashen white. She dreaded to see that awful face again as she feared to die, and yet she. was continually on the lookout for it. Mr. Falkland regarded her strange, _ restless movements with grave, pitying eyes. ‘*T don’t think she’s entirely right in her mind, oor woman,” he said, in explanation. to. his eae ‘«she lived.in this house once, and lost her husband by a. violent death, which ac- counts for it.’’ ret One night, the self-same night it was that would have seén Cassie Mr. Lauderdale’s: bride, put for the inopportune accident, the child’s..symptoms, seemed a little more favorable, and, yielding to Mr. Falkland’s entreaties she/left Mrs. ‘Chudleigh and. Felice to watch by him, and retired to her own room. But, worn out«as she was, it was dmpossi= ble to sleep.. In the chamber that had) been’ her bridal room, in the home of the. husband ‘her-own hand had murdered, shecould find no repose: She lay down on the bed, but.in a very. few minutes she was on her feet again, She epened..the.case- ment. and looked out; the silent stars ‘seemed: to. mock her, the voices of the night filled her with shuddering terror.’ She ,brooded over her secret. till her brain seemed on fire, and the old. morbid desire to look, upon the. scene of her unnatural crime grew upon: her. She arose, trembling - in. every limb, and making her way \to, the closet where she had hidden away the overcoat which was beneath her husband’s head, that last night, she opened. the door. A -cloud.of must and. dust almost stifled her, but she groped in, and felt about her.. The coat was there.. She drew 1t forth, her face livid, her eyes glaring, her soul in a frenzy of curious, morbid fear... It was -all damp with mold, and:on the breast were two stiff, black stains. . A g2sP of horror es- caped her ghastly lips, but with her shaking hands. she dived into. the pockets. - There might be somethin: which she had failed. to’ find in her and ex- citement that morning, when she drew forth the blank-book and the money. | There it was; she found a yellow handkerchief marked with her hus- band’s name, and a letter. Shey She looked at it, and saw. that the envelope bore her own name. a hiie od With a suppressed cry, she put the coat back, closed the door, and returned to ner bedroom. The letter was open, the dampness had loosened vei She drew out the stained sheet, and read ; “My DrarEst WIFE :—I love you as my own life, and better, though you may not think so, I would die to make you happy, Cassie; but I should never have married you, You are too beautiful to be poor ; but no one in this world will love youas fondly as I have. we “Cassie, you shall have your jewels and your new dress ; I won’t ry pe you. I have given ou the strongest proof of my Jove ; for your sake, ick become acommon thief. ‘Here is the money, I will put it on your table where you will be sure to findit. Get the trifles he! desire, go to your sister’s ball, and be happy. f I am gone to-morrow, say that business me away ; if I never return, forgive me, darli and sometimes remember me. — For your sake, have done that which makes my life worthless, If we never meet again, God bless you. “ DUS PORE. vin SHE ha aa Her tears were falling like rain, when she fin- ished this letter. “My poor Romney,”’ she sobbed, “how he loved me, and to think that I should’ murder him.” A low, rustling sound at the door startled her ; she dashed the tears from her eyes, and crushed the letter into her bosom. There was a slow, hesitating tap, and then a voice ca}led her name : ** Cassie! Cassie! Cassie !?? She stood and listened with shaking limbs, ana dilating eyes. tay ® The tap was repeated, three times the voice called: _ ** Cassie! Cassie !! Cassie!!! “It is Romney’s voice,’’ she said, in a hoarse whisper ; ‘he is calling me, I must go !”’ And with a face that would never look ‘more: some trace or clew,.
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12 ghastly in the grave, she went crouching across the room, until she reached the door. Once moré the solemn voice called. ‘*T am coming, Romney,”’ she replied. Her shaking hand turned the knob, and the ‘door swung open. She looked out with wild, straining eyes. The lamp burned dimly in the wide corridor, but there was not a soul to be seen. ‘She stared about her, whispering in shuddering accents ; ** Who called me? Romney, are you here ?”’ No answer, save the complaining voice of the river. She stood motionless, in an attitude of in- describable horror, her face ashen white, her wide, startled eyes staring straight before her. The door of the opposite room opened softly, and Mr. Falk- land came out. ‘*Good heavens, Mrs. Lysle, what’s the matter ? ‘What has happened ?”’ he exclaimed, as his eyes “Sl upon her, “are you ill ?” She did not move or speak, or even appear to be 4ware of his presence. ** Are you walking in your sleep ?”’ he continued, seizing her arm, and giving,her a little shake. “Mrs. Lysle, what is the matter?” She looked up at him with wild, terror-filled eyes. ‘*Some one. called me,’’ she said, her voice hoarse and unnatural. ‘‘ Romney called me.”’ **Come back to your room; you have been dreaming. I don’t understand you.”’ She suffered him to lead her back to the cham- ber, but she shook her head. ‘©No, I was wide awake ; some one called me three times! Is there any one. in. this house except yourself and Mrs. Chudleigh?’ ** Not a soul, and we. haven’t left bedside in the last hour.’ ‘*Then Romney called me.” - ** Who is Romney ? What do you mean??? ‘“*He was my husband—my husband wéo és dead,” 1» Her voice failed her, and her lips quivered. Mr. Falkland smiled, but her eyes were full of a cur- ious blending’ of scorn and pity. _ “Dear me, Mrs. Lysle, you surely don’t believe in ghosts,’’ he said, ‘you don’t pretend to make me believe that the house I bought of you is haunted, do ou??? ; **Don’t ask me tions ; don’t talk to me,’’ ‘she cried passionately, covering her face with her hands. ‘‘Il amthe most»-wretched woman on the wide earth; I wish I were dead.’’ f » “No youdon’t, Mrs. Lysle; you are very fond of life, you wouldn’t care to die to-night, if the chance were offered you.”’ She looked up at him in startled surprise. He was looking at her with calm, smiling eyes, pit- iful, and yet scornful. | “What do you mean? No, I wouldn’t care to die to-night ; I can’t bare to think of dying.” __ So I supposed. You are only nervous, Mrs, Lysle ; you’ll ee over allthis when you leave my dismal, old house, and return to your aay world, and ; Mr. Lauderdale. No one called you, the dead never come back ; you have been thinking of husband so much that- you fancied you h his yoice, that’s all.” “No, no, I did hear it ; he called me, and Mr, Falkland, I have seen him, seen him twice.” “Seen your dead husband, Mrs. Lysle? you'll make me think you are out of oe mind, if you on this way. I wonder if you have any your child’s ver P?? He took her hand, but it was icy cold. ‘No, I have no fever, and I’m not out of my mind, Mr. Falkland,” she said clinging to his arm, and re ty up at him with lovely, entreat- ing eyes, ‘‘and I’m telling you the truth; [ve seen my husband twice, and I heard his: voice to-night. Oh, it is dreadful, horrible !”’ The-gentleman laughed lightly. ‘I should fancy it would be pleasant to have one’s dead friends return, if such) a thing were possible; the great trouble is,.they leave us, and come back no more. Did you love your hus- band, Mrs. Lysle?” “‘ Yes, I loved him.”’ He looked at her with strange earnestness, his firm lips working nervously. . “You loved him,’’ ke said, ‘¢and yet you wouldn’t care to have him back again. would you ?”? te : She looked up sharply. Se eb -abominates children; but A TERRIBLE DEED, ‘*Whatdo you mean? Whatright have you to ask such strange questions?” “‘Noright, but t had a fancy to know, You beautiful women) are such a puzzling study, Mrs. Lysle. You think: of your first husband, until you imagine you see him; .and yet, if by some wonderous power he could be restored to you alive, I mean, his old self, would you be willing tore- linquish all your brilliant) future, and live with him again, a poor man’s wife; in his.old house ?’’ She shuddered, and the rich color leaped back to her white cheeks. ‘*No,’’ she answered, frankly; ‘‘ I should not; we never care to repeat our past lives ; I loved my husband, but I wasn’t happy here; I could never be happy as a poor man’s wife.’’ ‘* Precisely what I thought,’’ replied her com- panion, a hard, cold expression driving every trace of pity from his face ; you are a true wo- man and a candid one; it is a pity you are so imaginative. Let me give you asleeping potion, and [’ll return to your child.’’ **No, no, no,” and she caught his arm and clung to it; ‘I can’t sleep, let me go with you. I shalldie with terror if I am alone again in this house.” ‘*Come then, if you will,’’ he answered, cold- ly, and she followed him into the room where the sick child lay. And te 3 io they kept watch until the day broke, Morning found the little boy much better, aud twodays later he was st ong enough to be re- moved to’ Mr. Preston’s house, ‘I dislike to give my little patient up, Mrs. Lysle,”’ said Mr. Falkland, who escorted. the widow and her son home; ‘Iam, fond of chil- dren, and I haye got to have quite a tender feeling for little Romney. You don’t think of taking him with you on your bridal tour, do. you? ”’ Cassie laughed and shrugged her graceful shoul- ders. Out of the old By ey in her sister’s wealthy home again, she was her own gay, vola- tile self. “It wouldn’t be quite the thin baby on one’s bridal trip, would it?’ she said ; **I’m afraid Mr, Lauderdale might not like it, and I’m sure that mamma would raise a furious storm ; she goes with us, you know, and she I dreadfully. dislike leaving the dear little fellow with Flavia, she’s so cross and cold-hearted.’’ ‘*Leave .him. with me, Mrs,. Lysle,’’ said the gentleman, eagerly. ‘I give you my word I’ll take care of him, and Mrs, Chudleigh is a famous nurse.’’ Cassie looked thoughtful. ‘‘ The idea isn’t bad,’’ she replied, ‘* Ishouldn’t feel afraid to trust you, Mr. Falkland ; you have done me great. service, which I can never fully repay, and somehow,’’ she added, giving him one her sweet smiles, ‘‘ I feel as if you were an old friend ; I’ve felt so from the first time I met you.’’ Mr, Falkland bowed, and expressed himself as being highly complimented. ‘¢*And Romney likes you ever so much,’’ con- tinued the beautiful young mother. ‘‘I should like it amazingly, only I can’t bear to leave my baby. in that hood old house.”’ fej The gentleman laughed. | ‘How you do dislike your old. home, Mrs. Lysle,”’ he said, ‘‘and I think it one of the most charming places in the country. Itis high, and cool, Be picturesque, and the old-fashioned rooms are just the thing fora child; I really wish you would make up your mind_ to leave the boy with me; it would be.an act. of Christian charity, Mrs, Lysle ; [shall be dreadfully lonely. when you. are married and gone.” She looked up at him curiously. ** Are you a single man, Mr, Falkland?” she asked _ ** Wife or child have I none,’’ he made answer laying his hand on his heart, and speaking with as: dan affectation. he pretty widow laughed, and wondered in. wardly that it was so, for despite his palor and gravity, Mr. Falkland was a peculiarly attractive man. His deep, dark, melancholy :eyes, had a fascination Which even Mrs. Lysle. herself could not wholly resist. ‘* Well, I'll think about .it,’’ she said, ‘‘ and ou shall come. and dine with us to-morrow, and ear my decision ; and, when I return from my wedding tour, we expect te be very gay at Lau- to. take.such a | a | derdale Place, Mr.. Falkland; and. I shall -insist upon seeing a great deal of you,” Mr. Falkland assured her that her behests would | ever be his pleasure, and took his leave, and Cas- | Sie was, both pleased and flattered to see what power she could wield,even over this man who had hitherto led the life of a recluse, and refused every friendly advance extended towards him. ‘*T’ll let him have the child,”’ she decided im- ulsively ; ‘‘he’ll be kinder to him than ever ‘lavia would be, and by-and-by he shall come to Lauderdale Place as a tutor, and ll pay him handsomely ; ’twill be anice way of rewarding him for all he’s done for me.’’ So Mr. Falkland, coming to dine on the day fol- lowing, received his answer, and expressed himself much delighted; and a few days later, when the wedding morning dawned, he found himself an sna uest at the wedding breakfast, and even went so far as to accompany the bridal party to the depot, from which they were whirled away on their flight to foreign lands, —_—_———— CHAPTER VII. . THE SCARLET CAMELIAS. A YEAR had gone by, and the married pair were still abroad. . Dunbar had rooms in Paris at the Hotel de Ville,.a, French maid and, carte- blanche to purchase any and all the finery she de- | sired, and consequently was in the third heaven | of rapturous contentment. She was the handsomest and grandest old lad that drove along the Boulevards, her open carri- e lined with royal purple, her creamy ponies all a-glitter with golden trappings, her own fair | person arrayed in softest silks and laces, diamonds | on her white, old hands, diamond dust upon the puffs of her white hair. | “What shall you do to-night, Cassie?’’ she asked, putting aside her, novel, and turning to. wards her daughter, who sat at the window, watch- ing the ga eantry below. Sas, ee rete Wearilyon tte cont ‘I. don’t know}; there’s so much to do and. see | that. one gets surfeited, and. cares for nothing ; I believe I’m, getting home sick,’’ she said. ‘‘Oh-hush,” cried mamma, ‘‘I could live here forever. Paris is the paradise of earth. Don’t be unthankful for your good fortune, Mrs. Lau- derdale ; you are the luckiest woman aliye.”’ . The bride bit her scarlet lip, and her dusky eyes were dark with brooding discontent. ony |. “We pay for all we get,”’ she answered, with-a | hard sort of laugh ; ‘‘if one could have all this wealth.and beauty, and be /ree, life would be worth living ; but to be tethered to that old egre ! Bah! ’tis, Beauty and the Beast oyer again, and there’s his. step on the stairs now. I’m going, I’m getting to loathe the very sightof him.” ‘*My dear, my dear, how foolishly you talk,” cried, mamma; ‘‘Mr. Lauderdale is a pleasant, dignified gentleman, I’m sure, and you’ve every freedom you desire. I say again, don’t be un- thankful. Would you like to be assie Lysle again, in that dismal old house by the river? ’” ‘¢Oh heaven, no! Never that, I wouldn’t be pe again for the sake of any man that ever lived, ut husbands are such.a bore ; one gets so tired of them.’ ‘¢ That’s quite true,’’ said the old lady, serenely; ‘* but any sensible woman can school herself to en- dure a: necessary bore, my dear, to repeat you’re rather vulgar way of expressing it. Your poor father, as you’ve heard me say, was a dreadfully unattractive man, but we got on ever so nicely to- gether, and I always had my way from first. to ast.’ “As I shall have, said Cassie, and hamming an opera air, she went waltzing out of one door just as Mr, Lauderdale entered by, way of another. She went to her private dressing-room, and began to overturn, the costly trifles on her table, . There was quite a variety ; gilded bon-bon boxes, and jeweled perfume flasks, and. scented, d://et-doux, for in her one year of foreign life, Mr. Lauder- dale’s young wife had made many friends, and elicited a great deal of admiration. Her rich, ripe, voluptuous beauty was the wonder of the French capital. Artists painted her, women en-
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A TERRIBLE DEED. *. q3 ‘vied her, andmen of all types, and in all stations, fll in love with her. ‘© This is from Lord Holbrook,”’ she said, break- ing a crested seal, ‘‘an invitation for the ambassa- dor’s dinner. Bah! Those state dinners are hor- ridly stupid, and so is his lordship ; I shan’t go.” ‘And Colonel Beresford wants me to go to the opera, and Dalton wants me to drive; and peor, love-lorn Jack Hazleton sends that lovely bouquet- holder ! t a pack of ’em there is; how can one decide between so many; and Lauderdale will look ready toeat me if I go with anyone. He wants me to hang on Ais arm, like a dutiful wife, here in Paris, too! ”’ She swept the notes aside; but one, in a plain envelope caught her eye, and she uttered a cry of delight. «Harry Napier, as I live; poor, dear Harry,” she said, tearing it open, ‘*and he wants me to drive atsix. I'll go; 1 always was fond of Harry; I’d have married him if only he had old Lauder- dale’s money.”’ he crumpled the note, tossed it aside, and arose and rung the bell. Her French maid answered it, with an immense bunch of scarlet camelias in her hand. ‘* Oh, Jeanette ! how beautiful; where on earth did they come from?’ cried Cassie, seizing upon the royal, red flowers. : ‘A page brought them, madam, just as I was coming up.” ‘«No name, no message, «« None, madame.” Mrs. Lauderdale turned the bouquet round and round, her eyes all alight with eager curiosity. “TI can’t think who oe men 8 she _ actt sure- ly not Ha: iere » what’s this Fine ex suite tittle ivéey- tablet, all inlaid with gold, fell from ‘the glossy heart of one of the owers, and hunggleaming by the scarlet thread which attached it to the stem She caught it upand examined it. It contained a few lines, very delicately written in scarlet ink., ‘*Dear me, ‘this — interesting,’’ she said, hurrying to the window, and by the glow of the afternoon sunlight she read : ‘*Mrs, Lauderdale, come tothe’ opera-ball to- night, and wear a white mask crowned with these scarlet camelias.’’ The mystic ‘bore no date or signature. Cassie’s cheeks glowed, and her black eyes flashed ; the-mystery of the affair c her, “Tl go,’ she said. ‘ Paris life was just get- ting a little stagnant, this comes'in the nick of time ; I'll -go,no matter what Lauderdale may say, ‘‘ Jeanette,” turning to the maid, ‘‘ put these wonderful camelias in water, then dress me fora drive; ‘‘Pll wear that salmon silk, I ‘think. While I’m away lay out that white silk with the golden stars, and procure me a white mask, I’m going to the opera-balbto-night.”? Jeannette said **Oui; madame,”’ and madame was dressed for a ‘drive; and went down to the drawing-room. Mamma’ was there, and so was Mr. Lauderdale. He looked up from his English papers as his wife entered, and the aged, wearied expression of his face led one to fancy that the honeymoon of his married: life had been somewhat short-lived. But his sad eyes turned very tenderly towards his beautiful young wife. ‘My dear,” he said, ‘Ll was just thinking of sending up to know if you wouldn’t like to drive.; the evening is so’fine, and we don’t go to the am- oassador’s dinner till late.’? Cassie shrugged her shoulders beneath their costly drapery. «I’m going to drive,” she said, ‘* with an old friend of mine. Ihad a note from him ; Harry Napier, you know, mamma ; he’s only here for a few days, and’ we must treat him civilly. You can take mamma, Mr. Lauderdale; you’d not ob- ject to a drive, would you, mamma?” ‘‘ Dear me, no! I shall like it above all. things. I’ve read tili my head aches. You won’t find me troublesome, Mr. Lauderdale.” ; : Mr. Lauderdale bows, and avows his teadiness to accompany his handsome mother-in-law, but he sighs deeply in the meant*me ; and his eyes linger on the superb figure of his wife, as she stands. at the window, watching for the coming of her escort, with a wistful sorrow that is touching to Jeanette ae ‘see. «‘And by-the-bye, my dear,’’ she says, turning and laying her gloved hand on his arm, as Mr. Napier’s handsome turn-out whirls up to the curb below, ‘‘I shant go to the ambassador’s dinner, Lord Holbrook invited me; but I hate those stupid dinners; besides, I want to go to the ra ball.’’ ‘¢The opera: ball?’’ echoes Mr. Lauderdale; “ nag dear child, you mustn’t go.’’ er black brows lower, and a brassy glitter lights her black eyes. ‘+ Why not, pray ?”? ‘* Because it isn’t a fitting place for you. No genteel ladies go to the opera balls, Cassie..’ ‘‘Oh, I know better than that. Lady Belton and Madame Le Cure and hosts of others I could mention, are going.” ‘* No matter, if the empress herself goes, you cannot ; I don’t choose that my wife shall go to such places ; I’m opposed to all sorts of masked arties;”’ and there is a ring of decision in Mr. uderdale’s voice that his young wife has never heard before. She stands and looks at him, her red lips apart, revealing her gad teeth, shut hard together, her eyes glittering defiantly. “Pm not a child to be ordered to go or stay ac- cording to your caprice, Mr. Lauderdale,’’ she said; ‘*I am able to take care of myself anywhere, and:I choose to go.’’ Her husband regarded her in sad silence for a full minute, and then he put his arm about her, and drew her close to his side. ‘‘ Haven’t I done my best to make you happy, my darling?’’ he said, reproachfully. ‘This is the first time I ever thwarted a wish of yours; sure- ly you can afford to ~ up this one little thing in obedience to my wishes.”’ egal pouted in pretty sullenness like a spoiled child. Mamma made .a swift sign from behind her novel. ‘* Cassie,” she cried, ‘‘I’m surprised at you. Don’t notice her; Mr. Lauderdale, she always had a spice of stubbornness in her character, but she mes disregard your wishes; I’ll see that she on’t.’? fis “I wish her to submit willingly,’’ said Mr. Lauderdale. ‘Cassie. dear wife, you know how glad and willing I am to give you pleasure. You won’t think hatd of me for this? But I know’ the sort of people that make up those opera balls, and I don’t want you to go.’’ Mamma made a second sign. ‘*Well, I won’t go then; there now, will that content you, you stupid old tyrant?’’ and Cassie put her two white hands on her husband’s. shoul- ders, and kissed him. | His grave, sad face lit up with rapturous sur- prise. «Yes, that will content me; Iam very much obliged to you, my love; ask anything else of me and you shall have your way.’’ ‘‘ Mr. Napier’s horses won’t stand,” cried Cas- sie; ‘*I must go.’’ ' Her husband went down with her, and put her in the carriage by Mr. Napier’s side. ‘‘Oh heavens, what a bore! ’’ she cried, sinking back amid the cushions, as the horses dashed off ; «Don’t ever marry an ugly old woman for her money, Harry; one had better be poor than tethered to a death’s head. I’m half sorry I didn’t take you at your offer, and let Lauderdale and his —- go.’ ‘s You are not half as sorry as Iam, Cassie,” answered the young man, his eyes full of bold admiration ‘©Oh, well, it can’t be helped now ; and we should have hated each other before the honey- moon waned; love and. poverty can’t exist to- gether. It is glorious to be rich!. Oh, I’ve had a grand time in the last year! And Lauderdale’s not one bit miserly ; all ask for, I get. He never denied me a thing until to-day,” ‘ ‘‘What was that? What is there in Paris, or even in the world, that Mrs. Lauderdale has not??? **I want to go to the opera ball to-night, and Bluebeard swears that I shan’t.’? **You won’t go, of course ?” ) “* Won’t I, Mr. Napier? You'll see! _ I'd like to. have you for my escort, but Lauderdale may find it out, and come, down upon us, like a wolf on the fold. If you’re one bit afraid, say so, and V’ll send a note. to Jack Hazelton, of the ards; he'll go with me through floods and ames.’’ ** So will I, and I feel injured that you should doubt me, Cassie. Have I ever shown. the white ent since I entered the ranks of your admir. ers bad ‘*Never, and I prefer you to all the rest—even to these new, titled fellows I’ve picked up since my marriage. Don’t thank ; I’m tired to death of thanks and flattery, and all that sort of stuff ; hold your tongue and hear me. Lauderdale mustn’t know, you see ; I’ll tell. you how we'll manage it. You go home with me and accept my invitation for dinner. I shan’t go to the ambas- sador’s dinner, of course—I trust Lauderdale will. if he should not, however, I shall have a headache, and you leave early. At eleven o’clock precisel be at the corner of the Rue St Mare, and you'll : meet a white mask crowned with scarlet camelias. You’ll do it ?” ‘¢ If life lasts; and I shall wear a black domino. What an intriguist you have got to be, Cassie; one would take you for a born French wo- man.” Cassie shrugged her white shoulders and laughed. ‘© \V/Zhen one serves.a master one does not love, one is forced to deceive,’’ she said. Mr. Napier watched her out of the corners of his handsome hazel eyes, and felt consoled for having lost her, mad as his passion had oncebeen. After all, bewitching as she was, she was not quite the sort of woman to bear a man’s name and be the mother of his children. They drove until the sun went down, and the golden twilight fell over Paris and her countless steeples. : : Then home again, to find dinner and mamma and Mr. Lauderdale awaiting them. ‘Why in. the world: didn’t you to the ambassador’s dinner, Mr. Lauderdale?’ asked ; Cassie. alone and left my beautiful young wife at home,’” said her et with a fond glance. She curved her red lip. ‘¢ Bah! they’re a set of stupids ; I was bored to death the last time we went, and I’ve a headache this evening.” it Pes Nevertheless, dinner over, she played and sang, and had a game or two of cards with Mr, Napier, At ten o’clock she went up to her room, i As My love, let me get you something for your head,’’ called Mr. Lauderdale, solicitously. ‘*Oh, thank you, no, I’m gt tired ; a good sleep will cure it ; don’t let me be,disturbed, and eoonigti! ; , ew brig WE i oonssmneemeeae CHAPTER IX. THE SCARLET MASK. As the city clocks were striking eleven, Mrs. Lauderdale completed her toilet, and. put on her white mask. She wore a robe of hit silk, spot- ted with stars of gold, and garnitured with rich lace, and wreathes of white flowers. On her bosom was a diamond aigrette, on her-white arms were diamond bracelets, even on the buckles of her white satin boots.these precious stones glit- The scarlet camelias, each separate flower caught prs held by a star-like jewel, crowned her queenly ead, ars «« Now, Jeannette, cover me with that dark man- tle and I’l down; and re r, if any one asks for me, 1am sound asleep and you dare not disturb me. You understand, my good girl ? and this for your reward,”’ ir ‘Jeannette said ; ‘‘Oui, Madame,” and slip ped the gold piece in her. bosom, her black Frenc eyes glittering with satisfaction, and madam went noiselessly down, and out into the gay, gaslit streets of Paris. | ‘ 3 Mr. Napier, wearing a black domino, was awaiting her at the corner of the Rue, St. Marc ; he put her in his carriage, and they whirled rigs, : é y ‘*What a sinner I am,’’ said Cassie, throwing off her black mantle; ‘poor old lauderdale thinks I am safe and snug in bed this minute, and is breaking his.silly heart over my headache. — Mr. Napier, you. thiak me atrociously wicked, now, don’t you ?”’ 6 i : he : 8 re wouldnt waome me. very cordially if 1 wa 7
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™% A TERRIBLE DEED. ’ *T think you dangerously bewitching, with that scarlet crown on your black locks. Where under the sun did you get such wonderful flowers?”’ * Cassie made the night musical with -her flute- like laughter. ‘Where do I get all my wonderful things? Don’t you know I am a sotceress, Mr. Napier ?”? she said ; ‘‘my wishes are omnipotent ; what I desire is mine.”’ ‘* You desired this sort of life when you lived at that old country house, with your first husband, I suppose ?’’ asked Napier curiously, ‘‘ or .was Jove all-sufficient, then ?’ | «4 Hush,”’ cried. she, the color leaving her cheeks, ‘‘let bygones rest... Here we are at the opera ball.’? ‘ -o'They made their way into the vast salon, under arches of n and bloom, and trailing banners, and twinkling lights. Mrs. .Lauderdale had seen 2 good deal in the way of gayety since her mar- riage,’ never anything like this. She caught ‘her breath with a suppressed cry of delight,.as her yes took in the brilliantiscene. * Wreathed banners, festooned flowers, flashing lights; ‘and one wild, ceaseless crash of music that thrilled: ones nerves into: mad, ecstacy ; a dense throng crushing and crowding in every nook and corner, waltzing down the aisles, whirling and @ancing like so many lunatics; and every soul masked, and attired in some fantastic) costume. Knights and princes, beggars and harlequins, noble jadies, robed in satins and jewels; peasant: girls mat their pretty feet under satin petticoats, all ‘jostling and crowding in one gay, heterogene- ous mass. «Oh, T never dreamed of anything like this; I wouldn’t have missed it for a kingdom ; and Lau- derdale to forbid my coming! the old dotard, I’ll never forgive him while I live,’ whispered Cassie. _. Her companion caught her in his arms, as a crash of waltz music shook the air, and they were whirled on with the rest. The dance over, sitting in a little side nook with fxuit and ices before her, she had time to look avout. How was she ever fo solve her mystery, she wondered. Dozens of masked cavaliers, struck by her brilliant appearance, were continually doing homage before her, and begging the honor of ber han How should she know when the wight one came? _ She put her hand to her head to assure herself that her scarlet crown was all right, and having finished her refreshments, she nodded good-bye to Mr. Napier, and was whirled down the “cur- rent with a gentleman who wore the nodding plumes and ancient garb of Henry of lavarre. Her scarlet crown with its jewel stars flashed like a meteor through the gay rooms ; one and an- other claimed her, and everyone wondered who and what she was, At last, utterly worn out in ite of her superb powers of endurance, and her fitensd tense enjoyment, she sat down in an embowered corner, to-get her breath. Her escort left her to teat freshments, and she was for the minute one. * ’. - A sudden hand touched her shoulder, a voice ‘whis ‘in her very ear. - **Mrs. Lauderdale !” ~ She looked up with a start. fe . _, It might have been the Prince of Darkness him- elf that stood beside her. A creature horned and sofed, clad in black garments dashed with flame- like scarlet, and wearing and scarlet mask. A thrill ‘of terror made her heart bound. 4 Who are you ?”’ she asked, feeling a curious conviction that this horned demon was the sender of the scarlet camelias. He. laughed, and the laugh made Mrs. Lauder- dale’s blood, creep. . “*Don’t you know me, Mrs. Lauderdale? You are heartless to — your old friends so soon. I am Saye Mephistopheles. Come !”’ sek e proffered his arm, but she waved him from «*Go away, you horrid creature! 1 would as soon dance with Satan himself. I must find Mr. Napier, ‘‘My dear, you must do no such thing, you must come with me. Don’t you hear? I am your Mephistopheles; you wear my scarlet crown upon your head, you cannot resist me. Every man soul-has either a good or an evil angel, and I am yours, Mrs. Lauderdale. Come.” A sudden conviction flashed upon her; she arose, trembling in every limb. ‘« What do you want of me? Why did you en- tice me here ?’’ she demanded. *¢«I tempted you:and you came ; ‘you cannot re- sist me; I told you long ago that I was your mas- ter. Ah, there:goes our waltz. Is your husband here, Mrs. Lauderdale ?”’ ‘*No; I came with Mr. Napier, she faltered, as she suffered him to:clasp her waist. ‘‘T amsorry,’’ he whispered, bending his lips to her ear; \*‘ this is a fine ee for dark deeds, and you wish the old dotard out of the way’ by this time, I’m sure ; so do 1} my patience is run- ning toan end? I brought this little toy for your accommodation,’’ touching a jeweled stilletto in his girdle; **it would have been the easiest thing imaginable to have given him a secret blow ; one? little blow would have been death, too; the point is tipped with poison.” Cassie recoiled from him with ’a‘cry of dismay. ‘«Let me go,’’ she whispered, ‘ let-me find Mr. Napier.’ . He clasped her all the closer, his wild laughter ringing out. ‘* Why, you tremble like a dove in the talons of ahawk. You are not frightened, Mrs. Lauder- dale?) You wouldn’t mind striking any one a blow with this pretty, poisoned little toy, 1 know; your husband, for instance, if he happened to be par- ticularly im ‘your way? Your scarlet crown be- comes you well ; Cleopatra never looked one whit more seductive when she sailed down to meet Mare Antony. Come, our dance grows exciting—you must keep in step.” And down the long length of salon they went; spinning round and round at a mad rate, the odd- est pair that even Paris had ever coupled together, she with her starred robe, her glinting jewels and flame-like crown; and he,, looking a very demon incarnate, his horns tipped with gold, ‘his eyes glittering behind his scarlet mask. Down and round they whirled, and people stood still and watched them with bated breath. ‘«Who the deuce has Mrs. Lauderdale picked up now!” 8 Mr. Napier, as they flew by him ; “*'some old lover, from the way he whispers in herear. What an arrant flirt she is. No man in-his senses ought to covet such a woman for his wife.”’ , Yet his handsome, half-closed eyes flashed with _ meow d asvhe noted how closely the scarlet mask 1d her. They made: the 1 length of the hall, and were returning, when Mrs. .Lauderdale, without word or warning, fell'in a shining heap at her companion’s feet. Mr. Napier pushed his way through the crowd, and caught the red demon by the arm, just as he was bearing her away. ‘* Give the lady to me,’ he said roughly ; ** who are you, that you presume to offer your’ services unasked ?”? : The scarlet mask resigned her, but he laughed derisively. 9 1)‘ ) * You’ll find out who I am, and all about my presumption in good time, Mr. Napier,” he replied as he vanished in the crowd. ; Mr. Napier got his charge out’and into ‘an ante- room as best he could. en he tore off her scar- let crown, and her white mask, and ruined laces and her golden stars by deluging her with water. Nevertheless it was sometime before she recovered from her fainting fit; when she did, she shuddered violenily, and her eyes wandered round full of wild terror. “Oh, take me home, take me home, Harry,” she entreated ; ‘‘don’t let me see that terrible creature again.” What business had you dancing with such an imp of Satan,’”’ said Mr. Napier, crossly, “why couldn’t you stay with me? I bring you here, at the risk of getting shot at to-morrow, and you give me one dance as a reward ; I shan’t forget it. Who is that red devil? ” ‘* Don’t ask me., Oh, forgive me, Harry, and let me go home.”’ Her voice falters, and her color fades out again, and in mortal fear of another fainting fit, her escort gathers up her tumbled belongings, and gets her out, and into the waiting carriage, with all possi- ble speed. “* Are we to drive home ?’’ he inquites. ““Home,’’ whispers Ca.sie; ‘‘oh, I was so wicked to come ; I wish, I wishnow I had obeyed. my husband.’ Mr. Napier bites his handsome mustache. **Complimentary with a vengeance,’’ he rmut- ters ; ‘* what riddles you pretty women are..: I'd like to know what’s gone amiss ; I'll make it my business to unmask that red devil.” - Mrs. Lauderdale sits silent, watching the danc- ing gaslights with wide, brooding eyes. y reach the Hotel de’ Wille ; she’ gets out,, and whispering a hurried good-bye to Mr. Napier, she flits in, and:up the staits like:a shadow. As she passes her, husband’s. room, the door opens, and he appears. . You have come at lasty-Mzs. Lauderdale ; I have been awaiting your return some time.’’ His voice is cold and stern: his face wears = look She! has -never'seen before,» Heérwery heart. dies within her, her knees» totter and: tremble, and she falls prostrate at his feet. “«Oh, forgive me,’ she sobs out, ‘* Vil never deceive you again—I wanted to g6'so-had—I was. socurious to see what it was like, 'and.it was hor- rid—the crowd crushed me++I got, sick: and. faint- ed. QOh,:Mr. Lauderdale, say you, will, forgive me,”’ ; He looks down an instant on her white, implor- ing face, and his eyes fill with tears; he raises her very tenderly. ‘I forgive you,’ he: says; slowly ;. you are young and thoughtless ; but, oh, my wife, I would. rather have spent:my whole fortune on you than you should have deceived me ;»I:shall. never trust. you as'I did again.’’ © Mv ‘« Yes, you shall ;’? and her arms encircle him, her cheek rests upon his: breast, “‘we will leave this wicked, tempting Paris; and go home to Lauderdale Place, and I’li be the truest, most faithful wife that ever lived ; we will go to-mor- row—I’m sick of this life—promise me that we will !” “Yes, we will go to-morrow,’’ he answers, his, eyes lighting with pleasure. “That damger is well over,” sighs Cassie, a minute later as she enters her own apartments, ‘heaven grant the other was past.”” Meanwhile, Harry Napier drives back to the op- era ball, and after some little search, coctenine scarlet mask. .** Who are you, sir!’? he demanded, haughtily, his hand on the red gentleman's shoulder. His demonship laughed derisively. ‘* What a question for an opera ball, Mr. Na- pier,’ he says 3 ‘*do as Id ad out.”’ «7 will,’ retorts Napier, his teeth set; and seizing upon the scarlet mask, he tears it off, —_ ount Ferdinand De Bogamville stands re- vealed. He bows with cool dignity, and takes a card from his pocket. ‘‘An insult like this, @r. Napier,’’ he says, quietly, ‘‘calls for but one answer, There is my address ; appoint your own time, and choose your own weapons for a meeting.”” . | All right ; you jg doo from. m¢ to-morrow nothing could suit me better tham to put a bullet through your impudent brain.’” : And Mr. Napier turns on his heel and walks away. | On the morrow a duel pends, and feeling a lit- her | tle sick at heart, as the fatal hour draws: nigh, Harry seeks the Hotel De Ville, to bid uderdale adieu. To his. infinite ise he: finds that Mr. Lauderdale and his party Teft Paris. three hours before. At the dawn of the next day, under a wila,t gray, rainy sky, the meeting takes place, | Pistols are the weapons, and both gentlemen are said to be crack shots ; nevertheless, poor Harry Napier’s, hand, so steady in general, sosure of its mark, shakes a little as hé faces. his mortal foe, and hears; the fatal signal ; and when he fires his bullet goes whizzing over Count De Boganville’s head ; not so with th Ferenchman, his nerves are like steel, his aim unerring ; he fires, and the ball is loged in Mr. Napier’s Tight breast, and the poor fellow falls face down amid the wet grasses, and lies there, his life-blood flowing out in a crimson stream. . :
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A TERRIBLE DEED. 7s CHAPLER X. AT LAUDERDALE PLACE. SUMMER time at Lauderdale place: a soft, breezy summer evening. All the foliage of the trees ; all the green of the thick growing shrub- bery; all the grasses on the circling hills and smooth lawns, are wet from a_ recent shower. The flowers in the gardens send up clouds of intense perfume; the roses on the terrace hang sweet and red, and heavy in the soft, mellow light ; in the magnolia treesa few yellow-throated birds dart ane chipper, and all the blue odorous air is a-glit- ter with the flitting lamps of myriads of fire-tlies. The great, grand old house is all open from basement to turret, and on one of the low, vine- wreathed porticos sits Miss Agnes Lauderdale, _ the millionaire’s only daughter. She is dressed in simple white, a gold chain about her ivory throat, all her silken brown hair knotted back with a bunch of ribbons, just the color of her eyes, and in one dainty hand she Hing a little toy of a basket filled to the brim with eys. There is a shadow on her sweet, fair face, as she sits and watches the dancing fire-flies, and the silver bend of the river, and the town below, glow- ing red in the fire of the sunset, and her lips quiy- er slightly, but they part with a ready smile, and her eyes light as a door beyond her opens, and Mr. Falkland appears, haclibe an invalid’s chair, in which sits a slight, pale youth before him. *« Ah, here you are,’’ she cries; ‘‘ lessons are all over for to-day! Iwas thinking, only a minute ago, that it was almost a sin to waste this charm- ing afternoon over books.”’ Mr. Falkland laughs, and lifts a warning fin- ef. 3 ‘‘ Waste the atternoon, Miss Lauderdale! You musn’t talk any such treason as that in the pres. ence of my pupil here.”’ | **Ah, I shan’t make any impression on him, Mr. Falkland ; he’s too fond of his books for that. Harry, dear,’’ and her. eyes turn fondly towards the crippled youth, ‘‘ are you tired ?”’ ‘* No, indeed, sis, not a bit. I wanted to go on with my Greek translation, but Mr. Falkland wouldn’t allow it.’’ «Mr. Falkland was right,’’ she replies, sgrooth- ing back the brown curls from. his white, girlish forehead ; ‘‘ you confine yourself too much as it is —let me wheel your chair a little forward—that’s it, now you have the town and the river right un- der your eyes, and only see the fire-flies; one might fancy one’s self in Italy. Sit down, Mr. Falkland, and make yourself comfortable while I ring for some iced fruits.” rs The iced fruits are brought, and they sit and eat them together ; as the twilight darkens. Harry Lauderdale, his wealthy father’s only son and heir, has been a cripple and an invalid from his birth ; and for the last year, since Mr. Lauder- dale’s second marriage, Mr. Falkland has been his tutor. The arrangement came about by accident. Miss Lauderdale was out grining with her brother, and some trifling mishap befell the carriage, and it chanced that Mr. Falkland was at hand, and of- fered assistance. An acquaintance was the result, and in course of time, finding that the young lady was anxious to secure a competent tutor for her brother, the ‘‘recluse of the old river-house,’’ as Mr. Falkland was called, offered to fill the post, and was accepted. They sat 9 eating their iced fruits, and watching the fire-flies, and the shadow came back to Miss Lauderdale’s face, ‘‘ The last few months seem like a dream,’’ she said ; ‘so quietly and happy, I can scarcely real- ize that papa is married, and will bring our new mother ate to-night. They haye been absent a year ; you will think me an undutiful daughter, Mr. Falkland, not to feel more rejoiced at their coming, won’t you?” : ‘“‘No, Miss Lauderdale, very few persons in your position would rejoice at the coming of a step- mother.” ?, The young lady laughed and jingled her pretty men "a watt : “Ah, well, I’ve reigned supreme ever since poor mamma’s | rath,’ she said, half in jest, hat in sorrow; ‘‘ but the sceptre passes from my hand to- morrow morning ; I nope, oh, I hope very much that you will like Mrs. Lauderdale, Marry)” ‘*Well, you cherish a vain hope, Aggie; I shall not and donot like her. In the first place, I abominate all sorts and shapes of dark women, and my father’s second wife looks like a gipsy; and her eyes snap fire when she looks at you; and I’m sure beyond a doubt, if there’s any truth in the old doc- trine of the migration of souls, that at some time eg by Mrs. Lauderdale was a pantheress. If er dead nature should ever awaken, and she gets dangerous, Mr. Falkland, I shall pack up my be- longings and come and live with you.” Mr. Falkland laughed, but there was a strange, wistful expression in his eyes. ‘*Very well, Harry, you will be heartily wel- come, my dear boy; but.I trust your father’s hand- some wife will make a good mother. She’s been creating quite a sensation abroad, it appears.”’ “*Oh, yes, and I detest women that raise a breeze wherever they go, and set men fighting over them like dogs over a bone.” ‘*Why, Harry!’ laughed his sister. ‘¢ He’s studying the old authors, and uses terse and simple words,” said Mr. Falkland. ‘* Well,’’ he continued, ‘‘the sun is quite down, and our lovely afternoon is ending. I must go; Miss Lau- derdale, will it be agreeable for me to fetch Mrs. Lauderdale’s little son to-night, or shall I wait ’— **Oh, dear, no, Mr. Falkland; bring him down to-night by all means ; she will be anxious to see him, of course; and he will make this his home hereafter—he’s such a dear little fellew, I shall be glad to have him.” ; **You are a very generous-hearted person, Miss Lauderdale,”’ he said, as she accompanied him a little way beyond the rose terrace. ‘*Why, that’s not generous, Mr. Falkland; I really like the child, he’s so pretty and bright.” » ‘‘ Many would dislike him under the circumstan- ces, Miss Aggie.’’ ‘*Very unjustly, then ; I shall love the little fel- low very dearly, and I hope I shall be able to like my father’s wife; but I’m sorry, on poor Harry’s account, that papa is married. However, I won’t borrow trouble, if she wants to lead a gay life, she can; we can have our happy little world all the same, can’t we, Mr. Falkland? ' She turned her fair, smiling face upon him, and laid one white hand softly on his arm. An expres- sion of sudden pain drifted over his face, but he answered pleasantly : ‘* Assuredly; as long as my humble services are needed, Ishall be glad to continue them ; that is, Miss Lauderdale, if I remain in the neighborhood!’’ The last words seemed to cost hima great effort. She looked at him in amazement. ‘Why, you don’t think of going away, Mr. Falkland ?”’ ‘© Yes, sometimes I do, Miss Lauderdale.’’ ‘¢Oh, why ?’’ and her innocent eyes showed the regret she felt; ‘‘you have such a nice place— and we should miss you so; pray do not think of such a thing, Mr. Falkland.” The shadow of pain crossed his face again. ‘« We cannot always do the ery we wish to do in this life, Miss Lauderdale,’’ he said ; ‘‘ the force of circumstances drives us hither and thither independent of our wish or will; however, as you said a few minutes ago, we won’t borrow trouble. You expect your father and his wife at nine? I’ll ceme down about that time with the child.’’ ‘‘Yes, and you are to stay todinner. I think they are bringing some friends with them. Let me give you a rose, Mr. Falkland, these are so sweet.’” She broke off a few half-blown buds, and made them into a dainty nose-gay, and fastened them in his button-hole. ‘«See how nicely that looks,’’ she said ; ‘and now, good-bye ; I must run and see that dinner is all right ; if y do abdicate my throne to-morrow, I won’t disgrace myself to-night. Don’t be late, plea se, Mr. Falkland.’’: : Fy _ ‘* What a sweet soul she is,’’ he mused, walk- - me seg riverward through. the rank, wet grass; i: er face is like her heart, fair and spotless as a ily. iy He took the flowers from his bnttonhole, and kissed them; but in the next breath his face darkened, and he flung them from him with a gesture of passionate pain and despair. ‘‘ What right have" 7 to think of her, to call her name even?” he muttered, hurrying on with fierce strides ; ‘‘am I so lost to all honor and hood, that I would darken and desecrate her bright soul by the shadow of my wretched life? Never; yet day by day the witchery of her loveliness - ee ybny on ; I must go, my only safety lies in ight. "4 * * * * * * * * Dinner was over, and Mr. and Mrs. Lauder- dale, with their guests, had repaired to the draw- ing-rooms. Little Romney, radiant in blue velvet knickerbockers and laced ruffles, and long flaxen curls, was dancing to the music Miss Lauderdale layed. F «He's a fine little fellow, my dear, and the image of his father,’’ remarked Mr. Lauderdale. Cassie flew at the child, and for the twentieth time smothered him with kisses. y My darling, my pretty, pretty boy,” she said. ‘* See how you’re tumbling his curls and ruffles ; why can’t you let him alone ?”’ cried Mrs. Preston. ** Why can’t you mind your own_ business, Flavia? Ihaven’t seen my darling for a year— think of that! And he has grown so. Mr Falk- land, how am I to repay you for taking such good care of him ?”’ ** The occupation brought its own reward, Mrs. Lauderdale,’’ replied Mr. Falkland, who was turn- ing Mis Lauderdale’s music; ‘I only wish you would consent to let the little fellow remain with me.” *©Oh, dear, I couldn’t think of that; I must have him all to myself now, Romney wants to live with mamma now, don’t you darling ?’’ ‘No, I’m going back with Papa Falkland. [I only come down to hear Miss Aggie sing,’ an- swered the boy, imperiously, struggling out of his my ne arms, and running over to Mr. Falkland’s side. : He took him up and held him ina close embrace. ‘*IT don’t like to give you up, Romney,” he said, his voice unsteady ; ‘*the old house will be dreadfully lonely without you, but mamma wants you, and you must stay with her like a good boy.’* **T won’t. * I don’t like mamma,” Lord Beresford laughed. ‘*The child’s a relative of yours, Mr. Falkland, isn’t he ?”’ he asked. ‘ ‘* Why do you ask ?”’ demanded Mr. Falkland. ‘* Because there’s such a striking resemblance between you; you might be taken for father and. son.” ‘*I never heard anyone else say so,’’ replied Mr. Falkland, stooping to embrace the child again. Mrs. Lauderdale coaxed the child to her lap by showing him a gilded box of bon-bons, and Mr. Falkland bowed himself out. ‘‘Othello’s occupation’s gone,’’ he said, pausing beside his pupil’s easy-chair on the terrace. ‘‘ Mrs. Lauderdale has no farther need of me in the cap- acity of nurse. How is it with you, Harry? Are we to continue our Greek to-morrow ?”’ ‘* Assuredly, sir. Why do you ask?” Oh! Ididn’t know but you’d like a holiday, with all this gay company in the house.’’ ‘* Precious little care I for the gay com I don’t want a holiday, Mr. Falkland, thank How do you like my new mother ?’’ ‘‘T think she is very handsome, Harry.” ; ‘* To be sure, and so is a sleek pan - Poor papa, what a mistake he made when he married r ”» ‘‘ Hush, Harry,” said his sister, joining them, *«there is prong one at the pasernhtt now—they might hear,’’ “Let them hear, then, with all my heart, Aggie ; I don’t care, I’m sure. I shan’t try to make ga py bo ayes at all.” eB. RS F she may ever so agreeable ; she a) eats ie I’m sure, and she is so beauti. ful ; I never saw anyone else half so beautiful.’? ‘‘T have, then; and beauty’s only skin deep, Aggie. _ Look at papa’s face; why, child, he’s come home to us an oldman. | One:needs only tg. look at him to see how the land lies! One year married, and he is as haggard and careworn as 1 he’d gone through a campaign! . Poor papa, she’! break his heart, and lay him in his graye before: another year’s over—the wicked, evil-eyed Circe.” Mr. Falkland did not utter a word ; he stood looking up at the luminous sky and dancing fire-. flies, with solemn, troubled eyes. ans it ‘Don’t judge so harshly, please, Harry, dear,’* Ss ! No, 7%
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a 16 Said the gentle sister ;.‘‘let’s. hope for the best ; | gentle and obliging, and. afiectionate ; you’ll be! apa may be happier now he’s at home again, and hich Lauderdale won’t intefere with us, Mr. Falk- Jand, and you and I will have our: happy little ‘world .all to ourselves, won’t. we, Mr. Falkland ?’ .. Mr. Falkland bowed and smiled. ot, ‘¢ [ shall always be at'your service, Miss Lauder- dale. ‘ ‘* Then come early to-morrow, and when Harry gets through with his lessons; we’ll have a drive over the river.”’ . «Very well. Good-night, Harry ; good-night, Miss Lauderdale.” ~ She put out her pretty white hand, he held it an instant and was gone. Cassie Lauderdale turned away from the ‘case- | ment from which she had been leaning, with a brassy gleam in her black eyes. ** He’s in love with her,’’ she whispered bétween her white teeth, ‘‘and she with him. How dare she .come between. him and me, the pale, baby- faced creature? T’ll teach her better; I’ll put an end to all this pretty moon-light love-making. And that filteecile cripple, there. How dare he speak of me in that way! Mr. Lauderdale’s son and heirs Ha! ha! ha! Only think of my Pot boys my little Romney. - If that puny dwarf ‘were only in his grave, where he should ‘be, my son might come in for the Lauderdale wealth. Ah, well,”’ and the black eyes glittered, and the white, even teeth gleamed between the scarlet lips, *T | have sold myself for a price; it will go hard with | me if I lose jt in the.end.”” Neer! CHAPTER XL THE NEW MAMMA. ‘¢ HERE are the keys, Mrs. Lauderdale, and as | soon as you are at leisure, Mrs. Mason, the house- keeper, will receive your orders, and show you over the house.”’ Cassie looked up from the book of fashions on her lap, with wide, enquiring eyes. “Agnes Laud- erdale stood before her, profiermg the pretty key | basket, which she had carried’ since the day and | hour of her mother’s death. i . ‘*The keys,’’ said Mr, Lauderdale’s second ‘‘why, what on earth do I want with the What does she mean, Mr. Lauderdale ?” Lauderdale laughed. 9 _‘*She is abdicating her throne in favor of her new mother, my love,” he said; ‘she has ‘ruled the household for years, and there never was a wiser head on stich young shoulders ; thé very queen of housewives is my Tittle Aggie ; but very rightly, she is willing to resign her pest to you.’? | “T don’t want it,” cried Cassie, “I don’t ‘know one thing about housekeeping ; I wouldn’t undertake such an awful, tiresome business for’ the ‘world. My dear Aggie, keep your key-basket, and rule and reign as you have hitherto done. I shall never intents with you,” "’ , ~Mr. Lauderdale © looked daughter. | “* Your mother is So’ young and so inexperienced, Aggie,” he-said, “will it be asking too much of you? Are you unwilling to be mistress of your father’s house a little longer?” © °° - x _ Why, no, papa, if it will please you; cértainl not ; but as we are to have so‘muc Wehipat gs must leave a good deal to Mrs. Mason ; I must not | néglect Harry, you know.” «0 “Certainly not, but you cat retain your little key-hasket, dear, and continue to issue orders, un- til’your’ mother gets accustomed to her new posi- tion, and I hope, Aggie,” he continued, his eyes full of entreating love, ‘I hope that you and Cas- sie will be good friends, and love each other, for Mies eye inquiringly at "his appy,”’ and crossing to Cassie’s chair, she bent over her and kissed her. _ You are very kind, and I am very much obliged to you, I’m sure,” said Cassie, but she did not return the caress, and there was a hard, cold glitter in her eyes. | Her husband sighed ‘heavily as his daughter left room. | ae “«She is such a good girl, Cassie,’’ he said, bend- ing oyer his wife, and toying with her curls ; “so _and had serious thoughts of A TERRIBLE DEED. sure to like her ; and there’s Harry, poor fellow, he’s been a cripple from his birth, and he’s a little shy and. sensitive. 1 wish you’d, try and make friends with him, my dear. Now, I feel already by your little boy as if I were his father, and I | shall deal with him as I do with my own children. You, Cassie, as you know, are the idol of my heart —I love you as I never loved another woman. My fortune is at your command, you shall have everything you desire ; in return I only ask you to be loyal to me, and kind to my children ; Iam not asking too much, my darling ?”” ‘Too much? You silly old soul, no! Haven’t I promised you to be a true and loving wife? Tl be a good mother, too; we shall be great friends in no time, Aggie and I, only, upon my word, I can’t consent to housekeep.”’ And she threw her book across the room, and caught him round the neck and kissed ‘him. **My darling, my own beautiful darling !’’ he murmured, straining her to his heart. ‘‘ Oh, Cas- _sie, I was beginning to fear I had made a great mistake, but you do care for me a little.” **IT care for you a great deal. I would sooner be your wife than any other man’s living; never doubt me again.” **T never will, and now my darling, good-bye ; I shall not be able to return until dinner; in the meantime, take care of yourself, and do as you will! The stables are at your command, ant so is my bank book, and I give you carte blanche for any and everything. Good-bye!” She caught and kissed him again; but the’ in- stant he had passed the door, she made a grimace, and fell to rubbing her red lips with a perfumed sponge. 46 Bah the price is a fearful one,”’ she said, ‘¢it makes me sick ; I’d as soon be forced to kiss a monkey. I’m too be a loyal wife and a good mother, and maybe a pattern ‘housewife in the end; and have my domestic virtues carved upoh my tombstone! Ah, itis too rich! But his for- tune is at my command, and I’ve carte-blanche for any. and everything; that’s compensation. She whirled across the room and faced the long mirror. ‘©She’s pretty, she continued, surveying her own superb figure ; Miss Agnes Lauderdale, she’s pretty beyond a doubt. Her face is like a lily, and ‘cen sy brown. Nevertheless every other man I met poe jvent mad over me. I’ve never ” had a rival yet; I hardly think I need fear one in | tr... She’s good, too, and I detest. good people. y,, prophetic soul tells me, despite. all my promises, that Mr. Lauderdale’s daughter and Mr, Bee a wife will never be bosom friends. She smoothed down the Iaces about os cay throat, caught up her. heavy, purplish .blac braids with a jeweled arrow, fastened with a tuft of scarlet bloom in her bosom, and went down, ‘Halfway down the hall she paused, arrested by the sound of yoices on the veranda. The open casement was near, she tiptoed across, and seated herself beneath it-- It was, one of Mrs. Lauder- dale’s. weaknesses, an inborn love of eavesdrop- ping. ; ‘*There’s no comparison ‘between the two, by jove !?? hy i tt ' It was Lord Beresford’s voice that uttered these words; and looking askance she saw him, his | chair tilted back, his feet on the banister, his hand- ' some head wreathed in‘a cloud of tobacco-smoke. Miss Lauderdale is very fair,’”’ put in Captain Rowland; one of Cassie’s* latest conquests, ‘* but she*can’t come upto Madame. I don’t think there’s another woman in the world as handsome as she is; ’tis'a mortal sin to see her old Lauder- dale’s wife !”” Lord Beresford laughed lightly. ** Ah, Rowtand, poor fellow, yourfever’s young ! I thought the same thing a weekago. Iwas mad over her in Paris. I followed her across the sea, utting a spider in Lauderdale’s dumpling ; but qt am disenchanted now! Itell you, Agnes Lauderdale’s a hundred per cent. lovelier, and she’s’a ‘woman one can trust, too, which can’t be said of black-eyed Cas- siel” hier ye tre Cassie bit her red lips fiercely, and clenched her white, ringed hands. Lord Beresford had been one of her most devoted slaves, She had nor dreamed that he could be disloyal. **T hate her,’’ She said, in. an intense, sibilant whisper ; ‘‘I wish she were dead.”’ She crept away from the casement, and passed through an open’ window to the southern terrace. At the far end a charming picture greeted her. Harry Lauderdale was seated in ‘his easy-chair, under the shade ofa trailing vine, his books scat- tered about him ; at a little distance, Agnes was established on a cushion, a basket of gay silks jn her lap ; a skein of scarlet on her white hands which Mr. Falkland was winding, at the same time giving his attention to his pupil. The girl’s bright hair was all put back from her fair face, and she was looking up with eyes full of happiness and innocent love. Cassie’s dusky cheeks whitened, and her eyes shot fire, asshe stood and watched them. Since the hour she became Romney Lysle’s bride, no man had ever moved her selfish, cruel heart, ‘as. this strange, reticent recluse had done. Even amid the gayeties of the French capital, with titled lover at her feet, she had thought of him, the man who had saved her life, with a curious thrill, which nothing else had power to awaken. Her one inducement to return to Lauderdale Place had been her desire to meet Mr. Falkland. And here he was at the feet of Agnes’ Lauderdale, utterly oblivious of her very presence. She watched them a minute, her eyes a-glitter, her white teeth set ; then humming a gay chanson she advaneed. “Do Tintrude ?”’ she asked smilingly, pausing a few steps off. “Mr. Falkland bowed profoundly, and drew for- ward achair. Aggie sprang up, scattering her gay silks about. ‘““Tntrude, mamma? no, indeed ; we are glad to have you come, aren’t we, Marry?” Harry looked up from: his exercise book, ‘with a twinkling smile in his brown eyes. ‘* Assuredly. Aggie, we are ve lad to ‘see Mrs. Tada fig ot ‘Cassie laughed, as she accepted the seat. ‘*I beg your pardon, Master Harry,”’ she said, merrily, ‘*but I don’t believe you. Your eyes contradict your words ; in your heart this minute you are wishing I would take myself oft; but I shan’t, and to-morrow I shall come again. I’ve: promised your father to make friends with you, and I shall keep my word.” ‘Harry will be shy and offish, it’s his way, T suppose, * 49 in Aggie ; ‘you musn’t mind him, mamma; he’s the best fellow in the world at heart.’? ; “I don’t doubt it,” replied the handsome step- mother ; ‘‘we shall’get on famously when we are better acquainted, m’t let me interfere with our lessons, Mr. Falkland. By the by, my little omney begins to say his B’C’s, as he calls ’em. I shall soon want you to be giving him lessons ¢ you might begin now ;'an hour every morning when you are over with Harry, will do him no harm ; the dear little fellow is so fond of you, too.’ : > Risen gee Mr. Falkland’s troubled eyes lit with pleasure.. ‘J shall be very willing: to'do so, Mrs. Lauder- dale,”’ he said ; ‘‘if you Tike, we'll begin to-mor-. row.”’ f MSO ; ; STs HOMIE ¢ _& Very well: you can come to my sitting-room when you dre ready, and I’If pay you whatever: you ask. Good morning, sit. ‘Good morning; arry, T won’t interrupt you a. minute longer. Aggie, love, you are'not busy? Then come with me ; we are planning a grand dinner and ball for- the opening of the shooting season, and your dea 95 8 bless his generous heart, gives us permission. to be just as extravagant as we like. I’m order- ing my finery this morning, and T thought it would be nice to send for yours, too ; so we must have a consultation at once. Mamma will help ; she’s a perfect artiste in dress matters—I’m_ ordering: maize silk for dinner, and pink and tulle for the: ball. Blue is your color, pale blue and pearl white, but onl look at Harry there, he’s ma ing- fun of us, wie! so is Mr. Falkland, I daresay. Let’s tur our backs on them and their stupid books.?? ; m Linking her arm in i gie’s, she drew her away. Mr. Falkland's eyes Se edel gloomily as he looked after them. «You don’t admire Mrs. Lauderdale, Mr, Falk. land ?’’ said Harry. a _ The gentleman turned to his books with a
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“TJ admire her Harry,’ he said. ‘‘ She is a brilliant- a arene od woman; but I am sorry now your father er, ” “T was sorry at the outset,’’ said the boy, “ and all hands will be sorry before the end comes; [ wish she'd let Aggie alone; she’s not the sort of woman I should choose for my sister’s companion.” Mr. Falkland only sighed. CHAPTER XII. AN EXCITING RACE, THE ehogteng “seem was ushered in with great promise after the gay summer. Lauderdale Place was crowded with guests, gentlemen and ladies from neighboring towns, titled friends from abroad. Already the front oaks in the park had put on their Autumn livery of gold and crimson; hoar-frost littered on the brown hills, and in the russet mea- Soma partridges and pheasants whirred through the smoky silence, blackbirds whistled in the hazel coppice, and wild turkeys piped in the deep woods. e morning of the great dinner and ball da ‘dawned, and as the clock above the stables struc six, Lauderdale Place was allalive. On the greenin front of the stately old home, a dozen or more horses stood all equipped for the fox hunt which was to be the firstevent of the day. The hounds, let loose from their kennels, ran hither and thither wild with impatient joy; and the gamekeeper, mounted ona piebald nag, filled the morning air with the windings of his mellow horn. Mr. Lauderdale was bustling about, his face all low with pleasure, and on the terrace, surround- by some half dozen gentlemen, stood his wife. She wore a riding habit of black velvet, buttoned to the throat with ruby buttons, which flashed in the sunshine like so many points of flame. A black hat, cnnanpretee by a long scarlet plume, covered her race a , “T shall ride Black ” she cried, pointing to- ward a slim blooded mare which stood near, tugging pin nef at her bit, ‘‘and I'll wager anything I’ reach Hazel Bottom a hundred yards ahead ofyou all. What do you say, gentlemen? Who'll be my escort?” of a full minute not one of the half- emen oy for just then Agnes Lauder- in the doorway, and looked smilingly out upon the lively scene. Her hat and habit were dark rich blue, and her sweet, girlish face shone like a pearl under her nod- ding, white plumes Lord Beresford darted towards her, mY ine ee hostess in his eagérness to secure e. : “Miss Lauderdale,” he an, breathlessly, “‘which horse do you ride? May I hope for the honor bei g our escort?’ im no, Miss Lauderdale,” cried Captain or- u- Carruthers, pus. up, ‘he’s a wretched rider, Beresford is, pon honor; and I’m the crack horse- man of my ment; let me ride with you, I beg.” **No, no, Miss Lauderdale,” put in arry aay ah sauntering up, his handsome face quite re rom the long and deathly illmess which had followed his duel with the scarlet mask. ‘I think it was under- stood that you would accept me! I’m a stranger, and on the invalid list, too, and you promised to take me under your pda ah Lauderdale hed merrily. . At that instant Mr. Falkland ap ole equip tea gentlemen fell back and went to seek companions elsewhere. Tlarry Napier, who had only arrived at Lauder- Place a few days previous, made his way to ssie’s side. She was flirting furio with the son of a neighboring squire, her eyes stars, her cheeks like flame. ‘My dear Mrs. Lauderdale, you know I’m the best ied on the ground,” he began, “shall I have the or—’ she cut him short with a gesture of imperious eNO, sir; did you ever know me to accept what another had refused? Lride with Mr. Clements.” _ Napier bowed, and took himself off; an amused smile in his brown eyes, while young Clements, ina Row of delight and confusion, hurried away to have lack Bess brought around. Mrs. m, who was to drive with her mother to the meet, pushed up to her sister’s side. ‘4 ar nt Ry Cassie,” she whispered, ‘‘Ipity you, I o, indeed. _ Gassie turned upon her with flashing eyes. “You envy me, you mean, Flavia; wait until to- night, my dear; you haven’t seen the beginning of my splendor po avia laughed, but hersoul was full of bitterness and envy. % “I pity you, nevertheless,” she went on. ‘Look at that gin} yonder—Miss Lauderdale, I mean! Your devoted cavaliers have no eyes for you when she is present. And she is pretty—a great deal, prettier with her fair face, than you are. I’ve always noti that men tire soon of gipsy beauty. My poor Cassie, you have met with your match at last.” Cassie set her teeth hard, watching Miss Lauder- dale, as Mr. Falkland put her in the saddle. Often and again she had hurt and wounded poor Flavia, by referring to her plain face,and now, watching her ayporianity, Flavia had paid her back with interest. ‘Tears of and wounded vanity rose in her eyes, and she bit her lips till the blood was ready to start, | ‘And she’s such a favorite with her father too, continued Mrs. Preston, ‘‘she’ll soon influence him against you. And there’s that crippléd boy. Pres- a 8 ® B S = ° g = 2 ) 8 is) EB © ¢ A. TERRIBLE DEED. 17 ton says that Lauderdale’s made his will, and he the cripple, I mean, inherits every rood of land, an the better part of everything else. So you see, Cas- sie, there’s no need to carry your head so high, you haven’t made such a fine marriage, after all; the little you get now will be about all you will get; so I’d advise you to make hay while the sun shines.”’ Cassie uttered no word in answer, she only shut her teeth hard, and drew her breath ra: iG Mrs. Preston looked at her askance, with evident enjoy- ment of the situation. Mr. Clements returned, and led Black Bess close to the steps. “Oh, Cassie, my dear, i= mustn’t think of riding that mare,” cried Mr. uderdale, hurrying up; ‘she’s a vicious creature, and not to be trusted. Mr. Clements, take her back, and order the roan.” ““T won't ride the roan, I shall ride Black Bess,” and with one flying leap she was in the saddle. Her husband vgs a4 the reins, and looked up at her with anxious, pleading eyes. “Cassie, you must not, But she shook her bridle loose, and plunged the tiny gold spur, on her boot heel, into the mare’s flank. She darted down the drive like a swallow. Mr. Clements, leaping into his saddle, followed. Cassie turned and looked over her shoulder as she reached the open field. ‘*Now for Hazel Bottom,’ she cried, waving her gloved hand, ‘‘ who can reach it before me?” Black Bess went like the wind, and the youn, squire thundered on behind, on his gray hunter, an the rest of Pees brought up the rear. “e ie,” ed Harry, from his low pony car- riage, “you and Bonny le can beat Black Bess; why don’t you try?” ie’s blue eyes were all aglow. “Shall 1?’ she asked. She was a born horsewoman. Mr. Lauderdale, cones his anxiety in excited enjoyment, smiled and nodded his head. nes bent. over her little brown mare’s neck and whispered a few soft sentences, then she said, “Now, Mr. Falkland,” and shook out her reins. Bonny Belle was off like a shooting star. In ten minutes she ran neck and neck with Black Bess. Mr. Falkland and Mn, Clements were left a dozen, yards bebind. “Pll beat you, mamma, if you don’t look out,” cried Aggie, gleefuliy, sitting her horse like a grace- ful statue, her bright curls streaming on the d. The gentlemen began to cheer, and to. bet on the e.. : ‘* Aggie will win; she’s the finest little horsewoman in the country,” said Mr. Lauderdale; then raising his Voice, he shouted, ‘ Give it up, Cassie, give it wu ” But Mrs. Lauderdale set her He, and dug her golden rowels into her horse’s flan ‘*She sha’n’t win the race, if she does I'll murder her,’ she said under her breath, her cheeks growing white with anger and excitement. Side by side the two horses flew on. “Tl beat you, mamma, dear,” lanebed Agnes again, as Bonny Belle’s head began to take the lead. ae answered not a word, she only urged her orse On. : Frepenay they came in sight of a hedge right across their wey ‘Don’t. try it, Cassie; Black Bess is not to be trusted,” shouted Mr. Lauderdale. But his wife took no heed. On they went, Agnes bent again over Bonny Belle’s neck, and whispered in her ear; then she drew her reins tight, and cleared the hedge at one safe and graceful leap. Mrs. Lau- derdale essayed to follow. “ Over this instant,’’ she commanded, driving the spur into her horse. But Black Bess flattened her pointed ears, and showed her white teeth viciously, and instead, of making the leap, she shied suddenly, and threw her rider over her head into a pool of stagnant water. There was a simultaneous cry of alarm, and ina trice, half a <iozen pairs of hands were helping to get the dripping, disheveled lady on her feet. “My love, you are not hurt?” cried the anxious husband. assie pushed him from her almost fiercely. “No, I wish I was; I'd rather have broken my neck than lost the race,” she said sullenly. Aggie, who was out of her saddle and beside her, put her arms about her. “Oh, mamma, I’m sorry. You are sure you are ge cy don’t ak to Lhate * cried “Go away; don’t spe me; I hate you,’ Cassie, y; but seeing the girl’s amazed face, in the next instant she regained her self-command. “What did say?’ she asked, bursting into a fit of laughter: ‘don’t mind me, . e, dear, I was jolted out of my senses for the minute. No, ’'m not a bit hurt, and you are the finest horsewoman in the country.”’ * There's not a man in our regiment can beat her,” said Captain Carruthers, enthusiastically. “T’ve lost a gold watch on the race, but I con- gratulate you, Miss Lauderdale,” said Harry Na- ier. 2 Agnes laughed and blushed, and gave her hand to Mr. Falkland to be replaced in her saddle. “And what will you do, my dear?” asked Mr. Lauderdale of his wife; ‘‘you can’t go. to the fox- hunt in this plight.” 7 “No, I’ve had enough of it; ask Flavia to drive me home.” Flavia consented, and Cassie, all muddy and torn, was stowed away in her carriage. IT told you how it would be, didn’t I?” said the tender sister prophetically; “you've found your match at last, Cassie; Mr. Lauderdale’s daughter surpasses Aa in everything; you might have known she’d win race.”’ ‘self comfortably in “Tt is the greatest pity in the world that Mr. Lau derdale has any children,” remarked mamma, gath- ering up her skirts from contact with Cassie’s wet garments, Cassie herself uttered not a word. She sat still, and thoughtful, and silent until they reached home; per she ran up to her dressing-room and locked her- mr * * * * * * The fox hunt was over, and the gay party had come home to lunch, still Mrs. Lauderdale did not a : Yer husbahd went up to her room with an amxious ace. “T’m afraid she’s received some sort of hurt from that terrible fall,’ he thought, as he rapped loudly at her door. In a few minutes the key turned, and Cassie ap- peared, laughing and rubbing her eyes. “T’ve been having such a glorious nap,” she said; “what time is it?” “We are all back from the hunt, and lunch is over. My dear, I have felt so uneasy for fear you might be hurt after all.” “Well, I’m not hurt; my bones are all safe and sound; but my elegant new riding habit is ruined. I wish I had not been so foolish.” ‘Never mind the habit, you can easily Spey it; I’m thankful you esca unhurt. Black isa wicked beast. Poor little Aggie is oe ae anx- ious. She didn’t enjoy the fox-hunt at all. She seems to think that you will feel offended because she won the race.” Cassie laughed pleasantly, but there was a curious, brassy glitter in her eyes. “T’m not such a goose as that. I'll make it all Page with her when I go down; what a splendid rider she is.” _Mr. auderdale’s eyes shone with fatherly pride and affection. “Yes, Aggie rides well; I’ve never seen a woman chilis oo Cae uy ver” ap he eta eed ie c * e, my love,” e eS \- L rocking chain end drow ‘bia wife down upon his knee, “I want to talk to you; ‘tis an hour or two before dressing time yet, and they’re all at croquet down stairs, so there’s no pane Now, what do you think happened to- ber: fell in a mud-puddle, for one thing, Mr. Lauder- e ” “So you did, my dear, but I wasn’t alluding to that. ould you believe it? I’ve had two proposals for my little daughter's hand since breakfast.” “That’s not surprising; Aggie is a beautiful girl, = you are wealthy enough to give her a splendid Ow? “kd “True enough; but I was taken by surprise, all the same, I did not dream that Lord eeretord had i notion of Aggie, I fancied, my dear,” and the elderly husband angled a trifle uneasily, “that he belonged to your train of admirers.”’ Cores bit her lip hard, but she answered quite serenely. ‘Lord Beresford proposed for her, then?” “Yes, and in a rey, flattering manner, too; I’m satisfied he’s fond of the little girl; and it would be a. splendid alliance. I wish from the bottom of my heart she’d aecept him.” ; ‘She will, no doubt,’ ? “Not a bit of it—I spoke to her on the subject not ten minutes. ago, and she seemed dreadfully distressed. She cried, and clung about my n and. said she never could love Lord Beresford; and be me not to make her leave me and Harry, in a way that was absolutely ee . ‘ a a the other proposal? Whom did that come m.?”? . : : “Why, you wouldn’t guess in a week,” “Was it Captain Carruthers?” “No, it was Napier.” Cassie fairly started to her feet. “ Harry Napier?” she cried. “Harry Napier; and upon soul I believe he’s in dead earnest; he pepmiied sto reform, and to devote his life to her, and all that sort of thing, you know, aud I felt sorry for him, poor fellow. course the thing was out of the question. I could ag think of marrying my daughter to a man like “And what did e say?” asked his wife, in a breathless sort of wie * a Sr girl the tite ed. “Never hinted at such a thing, but I’m afraid I’m not mistaken. He’s a bandsome, winning sort of fellow, and Agi e is young and they have been thrown so much together. I must contrive to put a stop to it somehow. Maybe. if Falkland was out of the way there might be some chance for Lord Beresford. Perec it could be so; I’d like to see the meget wel i aes I die.” : : » ou don’t think of dyin n “Ni laughed bis wife. TERE EPCRs ORO He drew her close to his breast and kissed her. I trust not, Cassie. I've no wish to die at pre- sent, life is very sweet since you are my own; Put, dearest, I’ve never spoken of it before; all my family are subject to heart disease. I’ve had symptoms of it fur years; nothing to be alarmed at, you under-
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18 A TERRIBLE DEED. stand, but then I might go off without a moment’s warning. oe know.” ° “Don't talk so,”’ she said, her voice hoarse, her breath coming fast. “My love! my darling wife,” he cried, ‘‘ would it grieve you much to lose me?’ She hid her facein his breast. “Pve done my best to make you happy,’’ he went on, stroking her hair, ‘“‘and I trust that heaven will rive us many happy years together; nevertheless it is always well to set one’s house in order. I’ve ar- ranged all my affairs, so that every tying will go straight, no matter whenT am called. or Harry, pare , of course he will come in as my heir;. the uderdale property has descended intact from father to son for I can’t tell how many years, and Harry will sueceed me; but, Cassie, I have provided handsomely for you and your boy and in case of Harry’s death, unless Aggie sho d have a son to heir it, the landed property will go to you and your child. Ive got it all down to my satisfaction in black and white.” “What makes you speak of such things? You are not going to die?’ she said, her face still hidden. “T don’t know; I had no thought of running into all this when I came up here, but it has been on my mind for some time, and I feel relieved since I’ve pg ae I hope to live to a ey old age, but if it should be otherwise, Cassie, if I do go without warn- ing, as so many of my ancestors went before me, ou’ll be kind and faithful to my children, as I have een to you?” “*T will!” “God bless you, darling!” He raised her hidden face and kissed it tenderly. It was as white as ashes, and her lips shook and trembled. : “T have frightened you, my poor darling,” he said; ‘‘ forgive me; but it is such pleasure, dear, know that you will grieve to lose me. There, there jump up and get back your rosés; I hear the first ell, we mustn’t forget that our grand dinner and ball comes off to-night. I'll go down and let you dress.” ‘He wunt, closing the door after him. His wife sat where he left her, her hands locked together, her eyes staring into vacancy. At last her lips moved. “Tf ever a human soul was given over to the temp- tations of the devil, mine is,’’ she Meng ap hoarsely; “how gon I resist—how.can I, when the way is made or me! _ CHAPTER XTilL. THE COUNT S GIFT. ‘Mamma, may I come in?” ae the door, Jeanette,’ commanded Mrs. Laud: erdale. She was in full dress for the ball, Rose-pink silk all frosted with priceless laces, diamonds on her neck and arms, diamonds and pink buds amid the MeE ees in pare eohite: with a few Wiiuinikictie Hest pure i a few shimmering pear’ and b) é fo op ae ge entered, oe sop: might come,” she began, and then o short, with a cry of admiration. m mamma, how beautiful you are!” é Camte laughed, as she drew the girl’s imma within er own. $ “Not one bit —, beautiful than you are, my little Aazie, | she 5 They raided the stairs, and entered the draw- -room arm in arm. ious rooms were well filled, and out on the la bape a bpd gi table was spread, yt band was r, there were scores of people, in- vited and Mr. Lauderdale’s tenants, “Tand Bell beat you in the race, mamma,” whispered e, affectionately, “but you are queen to-night. There a not a lady here one-half so hand- some as you are, is there, ‘ “No, ue in the round world,” said Mr. Lauderdale, joining them. A few steps off, in the recess of a bay window, Mr. Falkland Fe gy watching their entrance. His sad an lit fa admiration, poe ae flush aye his le chee Ae Agel O80e of him, and beck- a him to her side. ; e made an eager step towards her, then as sud- denly drew back, and disappeared through the win- dow. All the h light died out of the girl’s innocent eyes, and her father, who had taken ee of the little scene, looked grave and troubled. As as he found an opportunity he slipped out of the brilliant room, and went in search of his son’s tutor. He soon found him, seated on the back portico, with little Romney on his knee. “Send the boy to his n Mr. Falkland,” said Mr. Lauderdale, gravely; ‘“‘I have a few words to say to you.’ A “4 away, Beanery, and hear the music,” said . Falkland, b sce the child from him, Mr. Lauder cleared his throat several times before he found courage to begin. ‘Tt isa ag delicate matter of which Iam going to speak, Mr. Falkland,” he said, at last; ‘‘it pains me so to do so, that I should certainly keep s for a keen sense of duty to my child. My child, Mr. Pheer g op for it is of my daughter, Agnes, 1 am abou Nes Mr. Falkland sat like an image carved of stone, his white, sad face full of silent pain, .“*Tn the last few hours,” continued the embarrassed father, ‘I have had very flattering and desirable - proposals for my daughter’s hand in marriage, but she refuses to listen to any of them. Something seems to ate the girl, and I have feared—upon ' soul, sir, I don’t know how to get at the point in on. ‘re a man of honor, I take it, Mr. alkland EP Seer ba understand my motive, and take no nfair ad pi of what I’m sa: , of course? I'm afraid, sir, I’ve been led to think that my ent, but. daughter to her brother’s friend and tutor, than is good for her own peace of mind. There now, the mischief’s out at last, a hard thing, too, for a father to say of his daughter; now, sir, what have you got to say for yourself in this matter?” Mr. Falkland uttered not a word. He only covered his face with his hands, and sat motionless, Mr. Lauderdale’s anger began to kindle, ‘““What am I to take you for, sir?” he demanded. ““T’ve considered you a gentleman, and allowed you free access to my house. Have you taken unfair advantage of my daughter’s youth and innocence?” ‘Never, Mr. Lauderdale, never, on my soul!” “Tm pad of it! Girls are silly creatures at Aggie’s age, and she’ll soon outgrow this foolish fancy when you are once out of her sight. I hate to see you go, on my pect boy’s account, he’s so fond of you; but under the circumstances, Mr. Falkland, if you are the man I take you to be, you won’t wait for me to ask you to leave the neighborhood.” “No, sir, Dll go at ESE a ae I ought to have gone months ago! Don’t think worse of me ss 1 deserve, Mr. Lauderdale: I’m not a villain at heart.” He arose and stood in the light of the swinging lamps. A man of rare attraction, and winning man- ner. No wonder little Aggie’s girlish heart had gone out to him, Mr. Lauderdale was a tender father, and his eyes filled at the thought of the pain this sudden departure might cause his innocent child. “There’s no other way,” he said hesitatingly; ‘*T can’t see what else can be done. I don’t know that you care for my daughter, Mr, Falkland, and even if you did ’”—— The other put forth his hand with a gesture of unutterable agony. “Wor heaven’s sake, spare me ,sir,” he said, his voice hoarse with suppressed emotion, “Ido care for her, I would die cheerfully this hour to spare her innocent heart one moment’s pain, but I’ve no right | to say even this much, my life is under a curse, sir, which must forever make me an outcast on the face of the earth.” “Then why did you worm yourself into m Seo and into my children’s affections?’ asked “ Lauderdale, angrily. . The wretched man stood silent, his features work- ing with terrible a ‘Forgive me, sir,”’ he said at last, his voice broken. “T had no thought of anything like this. Heaven knows I have done no prong ”___ “That may Me said the father; ‘‘ but as I take it, a man whose life is under a curse, has no right to force his way into happy home circles where there are no hidden skeletons. However, the injury you have done may be easily remedied, when you are once out of the way.” “*T will go out at once, Mr, Lauderdale.” Mr. Lauderdale rose and put forth his hand. Some- thing in the man’s face touched him in spite of his vexation “Thank you, sir,” he said, “and if I have been rough forgive me; an only daughter's happiness is very dear to a father’s heart. In conclusion, do me the favor to call at my ounting bs to-morrow uu for morning, and I’ll remunerate yo hatever losses this sudden de ure may involve.” ° “Don’t in me, Mr. Lauderdale,” cried Falk- land, withdrawing his hand, as if the words stung him; ‘I am not sc fallen as to be paid for doing an honorable act, Good-evening.”’ And re the other could utter a word of remon- strance, he was gone. Cassie Lauderdale, who had heard the entire con- versation from the casement of a little reading-room adjoining the rear drawing-room, made her way out of the house with colorless cheeks and excited eyes. In that moment she was fully conscious, for € first time of the strong interest she He in this strange man. Her heart went out after him with a onate pity and a tenderness strongly akin to ove. And her heart was utterly selfish; the thing she fancied and coveted must hers, no matter what the result might be. ‘ me | shalt not pon. 5: th panting sper, as she flew down. the terrace steps, and out into the lamplit grounds, “‘ he shall stay, and Ill heap him to corset er.” a e soon struck the little ince th that led the river, and a few steps ahead of her, she t sight of the object of her search. He was standing quite still, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes veted Heep the house he was leaving forever. “Mr, Falkland,” she called softly, stealing up to his side, and laying her hand on his arm. He gave a great start, and turned his anguish- Miah Ocean as ni. Wa? dae low with € loo up at him, her dusky eyes aglow w passion, her towels flashing, her fragrant, rose-hued garments trailing about her feet. . Lauderdale?” he faltered. “Don’t go,”’ she whispered, her voice and eyes full of soft entreaty, ‘7 want.you to stay!” He caught her arm in a so fierce and sudden, that she could have cried out, with pain, “What do you mean?” he demanded, his eyes glowing upon her, “T want you to stay,” she repeated, her soft fingers closing on his hand: ‘it is cruel to send you away because of a silly girl’s fancy; let her go, and se for my sake!” e flung her hand off, as if it had been a viper, “For your sake,” he said, his face full of angry disgust, ‘‘and you a wife, the wife of a trusting, lov- ing husband! What do you take me for? For shame, for shame, I believe you vain, and cruel, and frivolous; I never thought you could fall so low as this, Ah, heaven! my punishment is just, I might have averted all this trouble and shame!” away,” she said in a es is getting to be too much attached And without a word of farewell, hé strode rapidly away. Cassie Lauderdale’s face was a study, as she stood looking atter him. Z Wounded vanity, insulted pride, and selfish pas- sion struggled in her tains § features, and deadly anger lit her eyes with balefu fire. “It is her work,” she hissed out through her shut teeth, ‘it is all her doing; he is gone, and I have scarcely a friend left; Flavia was right; she sur- passes me in everything. She shall pay forit. Oh, as sure as I’m a living woman, Agnes Lauder- dale shall rue the day she ever came between me and my desires.” ’ he green, lamp-lit’ trees waved in the crisp autumn wind; overhead soared a full moon in lustrous sky; beyond flowed the dark, complaining river. She stood and looked at it, flowing darkly beneath the moon, and at the old house on the lonesome hill, a single et glowing like a star in its westward window. But her desperate face did not pale or soften, nor a tremor shake her lithe, strong limbs. She had outlived her old horror, and grown famil- iar with the dim remembrance that sometimes haunted her of that awful, hidden crime. She did not even fear that awful face now; she ss herself that from first to last it had only een a vision Bris baht up by her distempered fancy. ‘The dead donot come back,” she argued, “and Romney Lysle’s face cannot rise out of the river sands to accuse me.” But something almost as terrible as an acctisin ghost, haunted her day and night—a constant d of exposure. In her waking hours, and in her dreams, a shuddering remembrance of the scarlet mask pursued her, She thought of it'now, standing there in her ball dress, with the flow of the river in her ears, and of that terrible night in Paris; and her cheeks whitened beneath their rouge, and her limbs shook under her, “But for that dread, my life would be perfect,’” she mused; ‘but why borrow trouble? He may never come to accuse me, and even if he does gold will buy his silence. Ah,” and her eyes swept the illu- minated ey peg of hill and wood, and statel mansion, “if they were well out of the way all this princely wealth would be mine, and my son's, and I could do asI willed. It must be mine, I will not lose it! One poor, puny, crippled body between me and the soul of my ambition!’ She turned her lips apart, a baleful pee in her eyes, and face to face she met her Mev istophiles. He bowed to her very feet, and catching her hand carried it gallantly to_his lips. “Count De Boganville,” she gasped, her lips grow- ing ashen. ‘My dear Mrs. Lauderdale, you look resplendent! I trust you are glad to see me! I come in your hour of need, as an obliging Mephistophiles should; be candid now, and confess that you have need of me,’ Her eyes fell before his keen, mocking gaze, but OS Waele thaws, need of Yon one er ave need of you n i here. Come on to the hou 7 re! ha i the se, we a e great shooting ball to-night, and numbers of your old patos are present,” Kies - . e moment: we may not get another chi for private speech. Mrs. Landenante Tam Pia impatient. Idon’t intend to wait seven years for my wife as Jacobdid. You must put thatold dotard out of the way. She looked at him, her eyes as evil as his own. “There h dotard,” she answered. “ They must a too,” he replied, wey a light laugh, “we m ave the way clear. de the means, and you shall 8 th fa You won't have any scruples, of course; I wouldn’t trust any other woman; I’ve had proof your ability: you ! ‘i bad “ Hush,” she said; “remember your promise—the past must rest!” a tae “So be it, as long as you keep to the letter of the law. I’ve told you I’m growing impatient; we mus hurry up the cakes, and make the funeral baked- meats come in for cur wedding dinner. In ‘the meantime I’m out at the elbows, and out of money. I want five thousand down.” * You shall have it,” she said, sullenly. All r‘ght,” he laughed, his keen, sinister face full of wicked enjoyment, ‘and don’t spoil your beauty by frowning, my love. 1 am not unreason- able; only think of the years I’ve held any tongue; any other man living, having witnessed what I did, would have blurted out the whole story long ago; and that gs Seat of yours, instead of be encircled with diamonds, would have—” “Will aoe hold your impudent tongue?” she in- terrupted, stamping ap & “T will, I beg your pardon—to-morrow morn’ I want the five thousand; not a sou less will do; an here is a present for you; I brought it all the way from Vienna.” ; He drew a small, triangular box from bis breast, and put it in her hand. It was made of ebony, an all starred and gilded with gold. ; “Touch the spring,” he said, ‘‘and you'll find something useful within. Ove tiny drop vill do ood re andeno one will ever be the wiser. Don’t orget,’’ She took it, and hid it in her breast without a word. “Come,” she said then, “I shall be mirsed,” He offered her his arm and they proceeded to the house together. The music wasin full chorus, and the dancing-hall filled with whirling couples, On the veranda, they met Mr. Lauderdale and his. at tab ei cei h és vi ear,’’ he ¢ , “where in the wor you Pete hiding? Ive been hunting Abie Eg where,”
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3 aoe A TERRIBLE DEED. 19 « “Pve been to Paris after Count de Boganville, and here he is,” laughed Cassie. Her husband bowed gravely; he was not at all partial to the French count. “This is my daughter, Miss Lauderdale,” con- tinued Cassie, Agnes came forward in her lustrous white robes, the starry forget-me-nots crowning her bright head, The Frenchman bowed to her feet. ‘Mon Dieu / what a vision of lovelitiess!” he said, as his hostess swept on to the drawing-rooms, “‘ she’s bhi I never dreamed of a creature half so lovely. Cassie bit her red lips fiercely, ** Even de admires her,” she thought; ‘no one has ; yey for me, when she is present; I won’t en- ure it!’ CHAPTER XTV. THE FATAL TEST. THe ball was a great success. Every one present was delighted, and Count de Boganville’s oppor- tune arrival greatly enhanced the universal satis- faction. He made himself wonderfully agreeable, and was the lion of the evening. Mr. Napier, still white and weak from the effects of the duel in Paris, met his mortal foe with noncha- lant indifference. They exchanged greetings after the manner of men of the world; and no one pres- ent, who had not heard of that Parisian episode would ever have dreamed that these two men h stood eye to eye in dzadly combat, thirsting for each other’s blood. The count made himself unusually agreeable, and succeeded in dancing two or three times with Miss Lauderdale, and his admiration for her was so res expressed that Mr. Lauderdale, who was not wholly in the dark, touching the French duel, and was not at all partial to the om French noble determined to put a speedy end to all trouble in that quarter. Accordingly, as soon as breakfast was over the following morning, he went in search of his wife. She was not to be found in the drawing-rooms, and he went out into the grounds. On the front terrace sat Harry in his portable chair, with Agnes as usual at his side; no gayety or company ever caused her to neglect her invalid brother. her father, she ran down the steps. ‘Papa, dear, one minute, Can you tell us what has become of Mr. Falkland? It is long past his usual hour for and he promised to be early this morning, to give time for a drive.” The father’s heart thrilled with pain as he looked at his child’s flushed and eager face. Down below, the grounds were filled with guests; she cared for none of them, and only waited for the coming of her brother’s tutor. How should he tell her the truth? She saw the troubled hesitation in his face, and net On pe Sealy “has anything happened .] to Mr. Falkland? ‘Is he il?” “My darlin ” he said, gently. ‘‘ Mr. Falkland e we bat he is not coming Ate more,”’ ; ivering ; she looked up at her father. scelng the Frag his eyes, a wdden tide of hot n her face, sh him race steps, and approached his son. The crippled looked up at him with brigh! H by @ keen instinct he knew = to-day; as soon as all be ope rearwl not ae ee to deal,” ‘Whether miss him or not, father, is of small ‘ ne ce, but are you sure you have acted w oy \ isely , my son—sure beyond a doubt—there ‘was no other way out of the trouble.” ly. “Tve known this oe time, father,” he said, “andl hoped it would end well. Poor little Agrie!’ ‘‘Hush!” said Mr, Lauderdale, his voice hoarse e’s temperament, father,” replied the boy, sadly. . Lauderdale turned ¥ apie hs search for his wife. “Have you seen Mrs. Lauderdale lately, Lord Beresford?” he asked, passing a group of smokers on the lawn. ‘“‘T_ have, sir,’ responded the young man. “She went down the laurel walk yonder, not twenty min- utes ago.” Towanda the laurel walk Mr. Lauderdale bent his steps. He went on slowly, his brows knit, his hands locked behind him, as was his habit when he was articularly worried, his thoughts centered on his Rite aig me ne gponihle, He had almost for- gotten Count de nyille. D ‘“We must send her away for awhile,” he was eo oa he ebmeet 3 apto,the sence ves fod she an: co ea ether dik it, and it oak divert her at, her foolish little girl: Ithink I'll tell Cassie abont it. She might sug- gest some plan, she’s so clever.” He had reached the heart of the grove; the walk ran through thick-growing laurels, and the shade was dense and green, and almost as dark as twilight. He was just on the ees of calling his wife, when the sound of her voice reached his ears, “T tell you this is all I have; can’t you wait a day or an hour?”’ ‘*Not a minute longer than suits my pleasure and convenience, Mrs. Lauderdale.” ‘What if I refuse to get the money at all?” said Cassie, angrily. “Shalll tell you, my beauty? Before another sun- set the world shall hear the secret I have kept so long; that’s all.” This last voice was Count De Boganville’s. Mr. Lauderdale stood like one turned to stone, “Tl get it as soon as I can,’ continued Cassie, her voice tremulous; “don’t bully and threaten me, Count De Boganville.” ““T have no such intention, Mrs. Lauderdale. You ask me a plain question and I give you a plain an- swer; but we won’t waste words. 1 want four thou- sand dollars more; Tuesday night I return to Paris; Tuesday evening at seven o’clock I shall be at this spot again, to receive it, Don’t disappoint me, Mrs, Lauderdale.” “Twon’t if possible; sooner or later you shall have it, never fear.” “IT don’t fear, madame; if there’s any fear itis on your side; don’t forget that, Mrs. Lauderdale. ‘The sword of Damocles han over your head, not mine and unless you do my bidding J’ll sever the hair an let the sword fall. Bear in mind how long and faith- fully I’ve kept your secret, and bestir yourself a lit- tle to oblige me. I must have the four thousand Tuesday evening at seven o’clock sharp. Mean- while, what’s to be done must be done before I come in; do you understand that, Mrs. Lauderdale? The way must be clear of obstacles. That little gift I brought you from Vienna is all you need; it isas true as steel, and if you are as clever as Itake you to be, there'll be no after trouble. But remember one thing, what [ told you a minute ago, not a hair of Miss Lauderdale’s ead must suffer. I may change my mind, and make her Lady De Boganville in the end, there’s no telling. I’m awfully in love with you, my dear, but a Frenchman’s heart is like a weather- cock, and Miss Lauderdale is an angel.” “IT won’t stand here and be insulted,” cried Cas- sie, her temper up, and parting the laurel boughs, she hurried away. Count De Boganville strode off in the opposite di- rection, laughing audibly. “She'll not dare to disappoint me,” he said, half aloud, * she'll keep the tryst, and 1 Day the money down in my hand. She's a spiri filly, but I’ve Ned the bit in her mouth, and I intend to keep it ere. In the green gloom of the laurels, Mr. Lauder- Sis face ashen wnhe he kn in pain of death filled his soul. “If I could have died—oh, if I could have died in ignorance of this;’’ he almost sobbed, and for. hours ae pnt there, too utterly wretched to feel indignant a wrongs. After time would bring the mad rage of jealousy and betrayed honor, . Meanwhile stung to the quick by the count’s in- len made her way to the house; passing by her guests, who were sauntering in the grounds, in silence, and hurrying in, and w She found her mother on the sofa in the bay win- gow: with a novel in her hand, and a pet dog at her eet. ‘“ Well,” questioned the fair old lady, looking w “what's the proutenume for to-day? Bo you aie or 9 “Neither,” snap Cassie, seating herself moodi- ly by the window, ‘*J shall stay indoors,” ‘Which means that you’ve got a fiit of the sulks,”’ laughed mamma; ‘‘my dear, what’s the trouble? is that pretty daughter of your husband’s wi our admirers from you? Don't sulk over it! lomaen is ruinous to heal won't m mat- ou marry her off yore hands, or coax send her out of the house? In your place I could manage it. It is wonderful how she attracts the men; every one in the house is in love with her, De Boganville not excepted.” ‘ Mrs. Lauderdale answered not a word; she sat with her hands locked, her brooding eyes fastened on the river, her white teeth buried in the scarlet softness of her lip. Lb? kpought we were to have a sail, this fine morn- ing,’ continued her mother; ‘but the men are off in the coppice, I hear their guns now, and when men get game in view they lose sight of eve’ else under the sun. I foresee that the day will be a drag; so I'll drive over to Flavia's for lunch, and do a little shopping. Cassie, my dear, how much money can Yb spare me-this morning?” ** Not one penny.” Mamma opened her eyes wide. “Why, what does that mean?” “It means that my purse is empty; there it is, see for yourself.” She tossed the Le bs ag trifle across the room, The old lady spurned it from her with her dainty foot. ‘Have you quarreled with Lauderdale?” she asked; ‘‘ why don’t he replenish you?” : ae don’t choose to hg Shen Oh, very well, I can go to Flavia, her husband never denied her,” said mamma, wick as she rang the bell; ‘she'll qupply my wants; while I’m : it ae Task her to let you have a small loan, my ear “Hold your tongue and let me alone,” cried Cas- sie, 5 Mamma adjusted her white puffs and donned her lace bonnet with charming serenity. ‘* Good-bye, my love,” she said, as she rustled out: and down the stairs. ‘‘I hope to find you in a bet- ter temper when I return.” For afull hour Cassie did not move, or turn her brooding eyes from the distant river, and that same curious change that had come over her face when she sat watching in the old river Louse on the night of Romney Lysle’s murder, crept over it now. Her eyes grew hard. and brassy, her lips settled into a cruel line, like the woman we read of in the fairy legend, who was possessed of a devil, and went to and fro, wearing the fiend’s image on her face. Mrs. Lauderdale’s cog face reflected the ter- ie purpose that was shaping itself within her soul, She arose, and opened a drawer in her pretty, in- laid dressing-table, and took out the queer, triangu~ lar-shaped box that Count De Boganville gave the night before. ’ She turned it,over and over in her white fingers, eying it with a sort of fascination; at last she touched the spring; .the lid flew up, revealing a small case, which contained a tiny crystal bottle. She took it out, and held it up to the light. Thé stopper was sealed with gold, and the liquor within was perfectly colorless. “T wonder if he told me the truth,” as she un- sealed the stopper. a When she removed it, a strong, curious odor filled the room. She went to the door, and turned. the key in the lock; then her eyes glittering wick * she crossed to the little stand beside her mother's. lounge in the bay window, and took out a large comft from the gilded box that never was empty. | “Tl test its powers,’' she sald, letting a few bright drops fall from the tiny flask, upon the sugar lum. ; Pe Here, Fanchon,” she called then. ae The little, white favorite jumped from, her. cush- ion, and came running up, jingling all her golden 8. ‘You pampered beast,”” laughed Cassie, cruell “T wonder if your dainty palate will elish this?” an meine de ne ant ea gy ts wend ture ca exterou swa a. arenes then she sat on her hauliches, and jing- ling her bells, whined for more. : ao, Lauderdale laughed again, and pushed her aside with her foot. swift and sure, yd glowed, ‘the pleasure it would un og Degen? himself have a little taste! I ry it. on her hat, and a trailing cashmere shaw], ey took ad and tucking sotas setae eae aca sa, ves, un : is) a ne; tach the Sag ie hedge Dim a of she looked abarriy: n every dire and see~ ‘no one about, she th on in, As the little animal Satioeemd a touched th “My dear, what are you doing?” asked a voice ati her elbow. Sate She wheeled round with a great start, stood. face to face with her husband. ~ biwon ‘Ww 39 : coaiare ou doing he reeqie, hs rary throw in the pond? For the space of a minute e’s self-command — failed her, her lips grew white a: ‘ewitehed nervous. ly when she tried to speak, and she felt her. q shaking under her. z Inanother breath she faced the danger bravely, that was at : you'll not betray, me, ot commne. ones a — e hing as I’ve done ou Know ] little Fanchon? I went to shut the door antl while ago, and the little fool darted mene apder my we and was caught by the neck an instantly. never was so grieved at anything. I can’t tell mam- ma; she wositth never forgive me, she was so fond of the little creature. I’ve thrown her in the pond, and mamma sh she has strayed away. You won't betray me, dear? “T shall not betray you, but it would be better: to tell the truth about the matter. I don’t like A eras or 6 panei they always lead to trouble. in the end.’ Something in her husband’s face and manner made Mrs. Lauderdale’s heart leap. What was out? She grew horribly sick for an instant, Could it be possible that he suspected her? “Neither do I, as a rule,” she replied, “but I ice mamma; and suca a concealment is harm-. ess, ., Mr. Lauderdale said no more, but there was séme- pune unusual in his manner, which made his wife eel uneasy,
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' 20 _ “What is the matter?” she asked, hanging on his . “Does anything trouble you?” “* 4 good many things trouble me at present.” “ Tell me about them; perhaps I can comfort “you. pair laughed a curious, bitter laugh. “No, I am sure you cannot; for the present let my troubles rest. Are you going back to the hhouse?”’ She gave his arm an affectionate little pressure. “My poor, dear love, you look so warm and wor- ried, and I’ve been neglecting you so of late. Is that what troubles you? Forgive me, dear, I won’t do 80 a I am giddy, and vain, and thoughtless, and fond of gayety, but lam always true at heart to my dear, generous husband.”’ He answered not a word; his white, stern lips -were rigidly set, his eyes held worlds of suppressed. . His wife watched him furtively. He is roubled on his daughter's account, she thought that’s what ails him; and a pang of envy and hatred filled her soul. Even with him, Mrs. Lauderdale was first. “How delicious the day is,’ she went on, still Se fondly to his arm; “shall we have a little wi own to the river? What a noise our friends are making with their firearms in the coppice; there'll not be a pheasant left. I wonder you are not ~with them, you are so fond of the sport.’ “lamin no humor for sport to-day.” ** Are you not well, love?” » “Tam well enough.” *"Then don’t wear such a gloomy face —our varchery party comes off this evening; you are fond of archery!” “T was fond of it once.” “Then you must be fond of it now. I won’t have you turning an old man on my hands. I expect to distinguish myself this evening; win the silver cup Maybe, and you must be there to see.” e went on in utter silence. “Speaking of parties,” continued his wife,. des- rately, ‘ me of a scheme that Aggie and I ve at heart. We want to get up some private theatricals if you don’t object? You won’tof course, and the dear girl seems quite pleased at the idea, She’s been a trifle low-spirited to-day. Did you ‘motice it?” » “No, [have scarcely exchanged a word with her.” “And while I think of it, what has become of Mr. Falkland? It is some unusal for him not to put in an appearance. mney was dreadfull “put out at it. I wonder if he’s unwell? I think I’ Send over and see.” ~ “No, Mr. Falkland has gone away.” ; “Gone away? Dear me, and bid none of us good- pe What does that mean? He won’t be gone long course.” . *“'Phere’s no telling.” A little while before Mr. Lauderdale had thought ‘to trust his wife with the secret of Aggie’s sad at- tachment, but now his lips were sealed, She was ‘unworthy; his own eyes and ears had witnessed ‘that shameful interview in the laurel walk, and he was only biding his time, waiting to discover the ‘full extent of her base treachery, before he let her feel the full power of his righteous wrath. f fp New ever so sorry,” she chattered on, com- ‘ing slo but surely, to the point she had in view; we counted on him for our theatricals—he was to ee Lara, and Aggie his Kaled—and he must take i If off at such an inopportune time! ‘By-the-by, dearest, li ge we want some ng eostumes, Aggie and I, and our scene appendages will cost smartly, too; we intend to haye a stage in the south parlor, and I’m going into town to-morrow to engage the po py te meet rer, SO we may have rehear- , and, I’m asham to confess it, my purse is ty? Upon my word I can’t see how the money : ; it slips through one’s aie imperceptibly. | give away a round sum week, to be sure, I = *t help it. There’s a poor family in the vil- and their little home was mortgaged, the fa- i ‘down with rheumatism, and the Laie npg _ with a month old infant at her b I poy hl them turned out into the street, so I paid the mortgage, and am penniless in conse- quence. You won't scold me dear?” Mr. Lauderdale turned his sad eyes upon her lovely, face. Baga _ * Ah,” he thought, with a g as bitter as death, 40T could believe you—but I can never trust you ~“¥ have never scolded you, have I, Cassie?’ he ~ “Never; you’ve been the kindest husband woman ‘ever ; and you'll replenish my purse, and let A , me ¥ on with our theatricals?”’ 1 ; how much shall you need?” She colo and laughed confusedly. ~ “Oh, I’m always needing: so much, I’m ashamed to ask so often; and mamma’s always wanting money; she’s so awfully extravagant; I want lots— how much can you spare me?” any amount, my means are not limited.” Then let me have five thousand, another year’s pin money, and have done with it.” Her eyes glittered eagerly, he felt her trembling from head to foot, His ‘stern lips closed more “Very well,” he said, ‘‘make your purchases to any extent, and send the bills to me; your mother **Bho stood transfixed to th ming e ransfix the spot, the color co ya pe in her cheeks. Moe “Why, can’t you spare the money?” ne conveniently; and this will answer quite as “But it is so awkward to have she altered. Oh, well, ‘here’s a hundred and fifty in cash; an empty purse,” her reverie. A TERRIBLE DEED. that will answer all trivial purposes, and you need have no hesitation about making your purchases— I'll foot the bills. Ah, there is my carriage coming round. I’ve anengagement at twelve; I must leave you at once; good: morning.” CHAPTER XV. A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. Mrs, LAUDERDALE sank down upon a rustic seat, when her husband was gone, and buried her face in her hands. “What am I todo now?” she thought; “he has denied methe money. My jewels must go; there is no help forit; Idare not failthat wretch. Oh, Hea- ven! to be badgered and tortured in this way; to live under a curse,,and never draw a free breath; one had better be Wead! Only I could not die, the bare thought of death is horrible. WhatshallI do?” She wrung her jeweled hands, and tears trickled down her cheeks. “Tt all comes of one wrong,’’ she continued, her a wandering toward the old river house dimly visible through the autumn foliage, ‘‘ that one great wrong; I shall never forget it, never outlive it, try as I —\ the stain is on my soul, it was an awful deed, i hangs about my neck like a mill-stone, and it will drag me down at last to shame and ruin, “How happy I used to be in the old days of my girlhood,’ she went on, her transient remorse growing deeper. ‘‘ How far back it seems when I was an innocent girl, and Romney loved me. Poor Romney! What agood husband he was, and Imade his life miserable, and then murdered him! Mur- dered my boy’s father! Oh, Heaven! and that wretch saw me do the deed! and one of these days he’ll betray me, and the world will know me for whatIam. What shailI do?” An unutterable horror filled her eyes, and she beat her bosom like a mad creature. “Tt was all love of dress, and wealth, and show, and mamma and Flavia urged me on. Mamma is more to blame than I am; she taught me to wor- co such things from the cradle, and if poor papa had lived it might all have been different. He used to teach me to pray; no one else ever did. Itis too late to learn now. God would not forgive a wretch like me. I wonder if my husband would? He loves me. I wonder if I told him the truth— all the terrible story of my sin—if he could find it in his heart to pity and myn me? or would he pene! me off, and let tse world know me for what I am?’ Her face worked with emotion; for the last time the good within her fought against the evil. ‘*T didn’t intend to murder Romney,”’ she wailed, in a voice of agony. ‘‘Heaven knows I didn’t. Maybe if I told Mr, Lauderdale, he would forgive e, and save me; it is only chance.”’ She was almost’ decided; her head sank lower; great convulsive sobs shook her from head to foot, and her tears fell like rain. The sound of wheels on the drive broke in upon ter abe looked u we Rr her sister's some equipage approaching the house. “There are Teedene’ taxi Flavia,” she thought,— “what would Flavia say if she knew? Mr. Lauder- dale might not eet me, and how she would exult over my downfall! I can’t do it,’ she cried out. ‘I can’t give up my splendid life and all the wealth I have tried so hard to win, 1 won’t give it up,” leaping suddenly to her feet, a fierce fire blaz- ing in her eyes, a vivid color drying the tears on her cheeks; I'll die first!’ ’ The last struggle was over. The i ey angel of this unfortunate woman’s life dese her from that moment. “She is joined to her idols,’ was the divine com- mand; ‘‘ let her alone!” ' In five minutes she was in the drawing-room sur- rounded by her friends. ; ““What a fool I was,” she thought then, all her transient remorse gone. ‘* Why, I wouldn’t do such a thing for worlds. Only one way lies before me, ot walk therein, no matter what the cost may * Mrs. Preston came with invitations for her soiree musicale, to take place on the following night, and See tick cae aaeida eo tccalaatincetn teh was largely atten ene entry and tarned out: to boa most: brilliant affair. £i Mrs, Lauderdale’s guests, and they were many, were present, and there was a good deal of sharp com- tition. Mrs, Lauderdale herself, in a wonderful ilet got up oh ee for the oceasion, felt sure of the Fa which was a pretty silver cup, and she would have won it, no doubt, if Agnes Lauderdale had not entered the lists, The gentlemen, of course, held back, leaving the prize to be won by the best marksman, or marks- woman rather, among the ladies. **Won’t you try, Miss Lauderdale?” said Lord Beresford, who always kept as near Aggie as pos- sible, and could not be induced to abandon his suit, though he had received a sound negative from her lips, on two occasions. The game was half over, and Agnes, in her simple white dress, stood looking on. Her face had changed in th st few days; before Mr. Falkland’s departure it was the face of a happy girl; now it. was the face of a woman. Sad, but not hopeless, for even in her first great trouble, Agnes Lauder- dale’s noble unselfishness of character asserted it- self; her sorrow made her tenderer, gentler, if pos- sible more obliging; never morose or gloomy. If she suffered, it was in the solitude of her own room, in the depths of her hidden heart; to her friends, her sweet face was ever bright and cheerful. She had decided not to attend the archery party, but Harry was anxious to go, and of course, tram ling down any reluctance of her own, she was reeey to accompany him. Ts “P} not try for the silver cup this time.”’ ‘ Her tips quivered slightly, as she spoke, for she was thinking of the last archery party she attended. Mr. Falkland was with her and Harry then, and he had seemed so delighted when she won the prize. He was gone now, and she felt no interest in the game. “Why, Aggie,” cried Harry, from his low pony carriage; “‘why don’t you enter the lists? rd Beresford, she’s a crack shot, Aggie is; she won the prize at the last party; she can send an arrow right bod esa the heart of the target; she beats illiam Tell.” Lord Beresford renewed his entreaties, but Miss Lauderdale shook her head. “Oh, pray, don’t think me disobliging, but indeed you must excuse me, my lord.” Harry’s eyes saddened as they rested on her changed face; he alone knew the secret of her list- less indifference, and he felt it his duty to arouse her. “ Aggie, darling,” he whispered, ‘‘ won't you go to please me?” ‘ : She looked at him with her tender smile. “Oh, no, I think net,’’ she answered to Lord Beres- ford's invitation. “I Sy Why, to be sure, I’ll go at once, if you wish me, his arm; ‘‘ Ta give the whole of my possessionsif she’d look at me like that."” Mrs. Lauderdale, in her startling toilet, black, dashed with scarlet, her skirts only below the knee, her graceful waist. zoned by a scarlet sash; a jaunty cap, with a trailing scarlet feather, on her head, was ahead of all competitors when hin re entered the list, and quite sure in her own mind of the prize. But to the wonder of all present, who were not cognizant of the young lady’s skill, Miss Lauderdale at her first effort proved herself a dangerous rival. The slender, white hand that held Bonny Belle’s reins so dauntlessly fox hunt, could send a dart right through the center of an apple, set up as a target, and Mrs, Lauderdale Harry. “Ah me,” thought the young peer, as he gave her on the memorable day of the could not even hit it. Of course, when the game was ended, Agnes Lauderdale was the winner of the silver cup. Her friends crowded about with congratulations, and her stepmother was loudest of them all. “My dear girl, accept my congratulations. I’m gratified to see you win, even at my ownloss. How ou are to be sure.” Mr. Lauderdale’s gloomy brow lifted; it pleased him to hear his wife speak so generously; but there was a look in Cassie’s black eyes which made Agnes draw back from her with a shudder. 5 Iwon the cup. I wish you had not clever “Tm so urged me, arry,’”’ she said, when she joined her brother; “‘mamma didn’t like to have me win it; I Harry laughed exultantly. ; You simple child. No! she would will- ingly take you for a target, this very minute, she’s ~~ knew you'd beat her, that’s why I ou to try.’ Oh, Dairy: why should I displease her?” “Why should you please her? Aggie, when you've got a serpent to deal with, it won’t do no goed to pet and please him, he’ll bite you lea a wadig at it; set your eal upon his head and crush down.” ‘““Why, Harry, what can you mean?” you'll find out-in good time. Come, * ot # * * insuch arage! wanted ~ “No matter, let’s go.” * * and targely attended, All Mrs. Preston’s dear five hund outshine her sister, spared no os ect. brother. - Cassie rei as of old, without a rival. She danced till her cheeks were scarlet, and her eyes like diamonds; she sung and her voice excelled even the trained notes of the prima donna; her old ad- mirers, dazzled afresh by her beauty, flocked back to her feet, and filled her willing ears with words of adulation and flattery. Mr. Lauderdale looked on, from his seat at the chess-board, with silent lips and gloomy. “What have Sa been doing, Mrs. Lauderdale?” asked Harry Napier, ‘renewing your youth and beauty by the aid of some charmed el ? [never saw you look one-half so well before.” 2 Cassie laughed till all her perfect teeth shone. “Tam just beginning a new reign, and woe unto those of my old subjects whom I find false or chang- ing,” she replied. } r. Napier shrugged his handsome shoulders, and gave way to Count de Boganville, who came up to claim his dance. j i “Your devoted subject,” he said, bowing to her feet; ‘‘once your slave, Mrs. Lauderdale, your slave forever.” : The music, struck up with a crash, and resi herself to his arms, she whirled away. Mr. Lauder- dale did not move, not a feature of his stern, white face betrayed what he felt; he was biding his time,
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‘*They are the best dancers in the room,” said mamma, ie regs eo pair as they spun away; “I always admired the count; I can scarcely forgive Cassie yet for not becoming Lady De Boganville; how the title would have suited her!” “Bah, Lauderdale’s money suits her better,” an- swered Mr. Preston; ‘De Boganville’s little better than a clever vagabond.”’ ; The dance over, Count De Boganville led his hand- some partner to a seat. : ‘My beautiful queen,” he whispered, leaning over the back of her chair, ‘‘you have conquered me anew to-night. You are the most beautiful woman that ever breathed, and my adoration will never waver again. Miss Lauderdale’s an angel, as I said, but you are something better. Remember Tuesday evening, at seven o’clock, in the Laurel Walk.” Mrs. Lauderdale said nothing in answer, but her dark brows lowered, and her pearly teeth, set hard together, shone through her parted lips. he dancing over, the prima donna sung again, and then the collation on the lawn followed. Mr. Preston was a connoisseur in wines, and the best in his cellar flowed freely that night. Mrs. Lauderdale got some old bottles of cote-d’or labeled a half a century back, and a cluster of tiny crystal oblets, and arranged them on the seat of a rustic arbor, with purple heaps of ripe grapes and piles of golden nectarines. en she wreathed her regal brows with a crown of vine-tendrils hung with scarlet poppies, and yellow headsof ripe wheat. ““ Who will come to my_ banquet?” she cried out, seating herself at the head of this fairy board. Her friends came hence up, Lord Beresford and Carruthers and apier, and dozens o others, last of all the French count. She welcomed them with the smile of a siren, and while they were crowding each other to be first at the feast, she tinkled her ve 4 goblets, setting them in a circle with swift, white fingers, and into one, the central glass, she let falla few bright drops from a small bottle which she concealed in her breast. The act was so swift and sudden, that no one had time to observe it, and the gentlemen surrounded her in a glow of er delight. he gave them clusters of nig 9 os and hand- fuls of nectarines, and dainty little cheese cakes, of Flavia’s own making, and then she dispensed the wine, “It isa rare article gaenes, she said, as she poured it out in bright, tri streams, shooting coquettish glances hither and thither in the mean- time, ‘‘ half a century old, and rich as cream. Can’t a detect the delicious odor? No such wine on the quet board up yonder; Mrs. Preston never gives her cote-d'or, to her guests, she cr 4 it for herself. I purloined these bottles, and you shall share them; it is nectar, fit for the gods. Now, Captain Carru- thers, now my lord, now Count de Boganville! Come up, friends, and help yourselves.” ey crowded up eagerly, seizing upon the tiny pee and draining their contents with gallant “aoant be Bognivlia, you like it surely, i : ou like it surely. this glass.” ~ at She took whine central glass, full to the brim, and offered it. e Frenchman accepted it, with a smiling bow. The rich color died out of her cheeks, and her bosom rose and fell meg but Count de Boganville did not drink the wine. He carried the goblet to his lips, with a flattering speech, but leav- ing it untasted, he turned to his hostess. ‘Mrs. Lauderdale, won’t you drink a philopena with me?” he asked, his wicked eyes glowing with curious significance. For re ee, net could not mre: at - a customary ceremon ‘0 let_touch her red mouth. a . But she did not drink one drop. The count denighed. significantly. ‘You do not the cote d’or, Mrs. Lauderdale,” he said; ‘neither will I; let us offer a libation to the And tossing the little glass high above his head, he filled the air with « shotser of golden drops. The glass, broken at the stem, fell at ie’s feet. mee caught itup, and tossed it intoa clump of rose ‘“‘You’ve broken Flavia’s glass, and it makes one of a choice set brought all the way from Peru,” she said, ‘‘and you’ve wasted the precious cote d’or in the bargain, Count De Boganville. If you do not do better | be: compelled to send you from the table like a naughty child.” . ie count laughed again, a laugh full of signifi- ‘Diamond cut diamond,” he whispered, bending down to her ome “you're a clever woman, my dear, but you've found your match. I don’t think I fancy rhea | Til content myself with grapes and nec- tarines. “Thave failed,” thought Mrs. Lauderdale, driving home, when the was over, “and to-morrow my jewels must go. There’s'no help for it, and I'd almost as soon part with my life as my diamonds! Ah, Heaven, if he had only drained that tiny glass, my future would have been secure. it was after midnight by hours when she reached Lauderdale Place, and the great house was as si- lent asa tomb. Her guests went straight to their respective rooms, and to bed; Mr. Lauderdale locked himself in the library, without exchanging a word with his wife. took no notice of this, however; she lingered parted, pacing the fier retlensly, her jowels gleam a the floor wels gleam- Ing above her moody brows, bee soul full of wild, wicked thoughts. “T haven’t a friend on earth to help me,” she mused bitterly; ‘‘there’s not a single one of m many admirers that I dare confide in; I can’t te _ A TERRIBLE DEED. mam and Flavia would heartily rejoice to see me go to prison to-morrow, and Lauderdale; no, I dare not trust Lauderdale, I must fight it out alone. If Falkland were here,’ she continued, her eyes sud- denly fill with passionate tears, and her voice faltering, ‘‘I could go to. him. He would help and pity me, and keep my horrible secret. 1 am sure he would. i have never cared for any one living as I cared for him, since I used to love poor Romney. And to think, oh Heaven, to think, that she must come between us. Because of her silly, girlish fancy, he must be banished.” ‘ The tears brimmed over, and sinking down on a velvet lounge, she hid her face in the cushions, and broke into a perfect storm of hysterical weeping. In a little while her emotion, always short-lived spent itself; she arose, dried her wet cheeks, and pushed back her falling braids and jewels, and went a up the stairs. syd Ret Her chamber door stood open, and looking in, she saw her maid stretched upon the floor, in the dress- ing-room beyond, fast asleep. ° Another door, exactly opposite her own, stood ajar, and with a sudden gleam in her wicked. eyes, nn Lauderdale crept toward it. . “I wonder what the love-lorn damsel is doing?” she said, under her breath; “ ing of her ban- ished lover of course?” She crept on to the door, her movement as ful and noiseless as a cat’s, and peeped throug’ crevice. The chamber was lighted by a drop-light, sus- = above a pretty table, all littered with gilded rifles; and in an arm-chair, all robed in misty white, her lovely hair 7 over her shoulders, sat Ag- nes Lauderdale fast asleep, with an open letter in her hand, Cassie looked at her through the aperture, as a ie ta se might look at the prey it coveted. Her lack eyes glowed, and her white teeth shone through her red lips. “T wonder if that letter can be from him?” she thought. ‘I must try and find out.” She opened the door softly, and apeeren up her pope orem she glided in, and to the side of the sleeping girl. Her white hand held the crumpled sheet loosely, and her cheeks were all stained with tears, as if she had wept herself to sleep. Cassie bent down and extricated the letter from the girl’s passive ers, and glanced over it with eager eyes. It was from Mr. Fa d, as she had suspected. A letter which, despite all the writer's efforts to the contrary, breathed something warmer aAce- the mere 9 vane ang of terrible petoeey. wrung Mrs. Lauder- dale’s heart. This man had been her chosen friend, honored with her favor and patronage, and this girl had won him from her. This l, who Tn destined to excel and supplant her in every- ng. She crushed the letter into her pocket for more careful reading, and stood for an instant looking down upon the unconscious sleeper. The quiet, tear-stained face was very sweet and fair; the white, slender hands lay softly on the scarlet cush- ion of the chair; the misty white robe flowed far down upon the t, almost touching the silver fender, d which the embers of a waning wood fire glowed. eis mre Boca upon the sleeping 1, a sudden thought flashed through Mrs. Lauderdale’s mind, as her d and chief counselor, the Prince of Dark- ness, suggested it. She started, and flushed, and bit her red lips till the blood was ready to start. “Tt would be and sure,” she murmured un- der her breath, ‘‘and even if she escaped with her life, all her beauty would be gone forever.” One minute she hesitated, the horror of the deed she contemplated ethene A oe color from hercheeks; and then she set her white teeth hard together. “Tl do it!’ she said in a sibilant whisper. ‘I’ve done | worse, and how dare she put herself in my way! She bent down, and taking a small shovel that stood in one corner of the old-fashioned fireplace, ‘| she raked out the red embers until they touched the grate; then lifting the skirt of the tt robe, she spread it over the fender, and over the smolder- ing fire. ot oa stirred In her sleep, and murmured softly ; and . Lauderdale di out of the room, an into her own chamber. She locked her door in’ hot hagte, and roused her maid. ‘Get me undressed — Fanchette,” she com- manded; “I am tired death.” Fanchette rubbed her sleepy eyes, and did her best to obey. She removed the glit jewels, and the silks and laces, and wrapt her mistress in a en aaa and began to comb out her black raids. Mrs. Lauderdale sat quiet as a statue; but her cheeks were white under their rouge, and her eyes full of terrible suspense and expectation. “What was that?” she asked in a hoarse whisper, as a dog howled out in the ground below. ‘Not ma’am, only the dogs a baying at the heh said Fanchette, as she brush e long, air. The little clock on the mantle struck three, and far over the river hills the first faint prophecies of began ow. Cassie w: lust. heart: heating 90 38 y that she could scarcely breathe. Had she ec eaint _ e wild, abrill shriek filled the silent house with 0@8. ‘Great heavens, what was that?” she cried. Fanchette her brush, and flew at the 21 hand could turn the key. The wild shrieks came nearer. . : Mrs. Lauderdale pushed the girl aside, and burst. ‘the door open. “Oh, what has happened?” she cried, rushing out into the hall. A terrible sight met her eyes. On the upper landing stood a woman’s wrapped in a sheet of flame. The guestscame from their rooms, and Mr. Lauderdale caught his daughter in his arms, and tried to extinguish the flames; but it was Lord Beresford’s thought that. saved her from instant death. He darted back into his room, and caught up a huge pitcher filled with water; hurryin aa he — ed the girl from head to foot, an ax ttingaiaki ed e fire. But her garments were almost entirely consumed, and her body was terribly burned. Her father bore her back to her own mae and laid her down upon her little white bed. Cassie followed him, her face like the face of a dead woman. “Oh, Mr. Lauderdale, is she badly burned? In heaven's name, how did it happen?” she asked. “Heaven knows,”? he answered, glancing at the red embers on the hearth. “I su pose her clothing: took fire. Yes, she is dreadfully burned, I am afraid fatally! My poor, pretty Aggie! Let me go. for a doctor.” r “T’ve sent forone. Howard isalready gone,” said: assie. ‘““Thank you,” and he looked at her with grateful: : re, tenderness. “Sit by her a minute, till 1 rouse the servants.”’ And by the bedside on which her di and! sfigured unconscious victim lay, Mrs. Lauderdale sat down with placid indifference. “*T didnot fail this time,” she thought; ‘‘my shot — a sure one; she won’t be likely to cross my path. again.” And looking at the distorted, suffering face, she felt no remorse; she who had been once tender of heart over all human suffering; she who had once: been a sinless little child, and prayed before the: image of the Virgin Mother, at her dead father's; knee. Her conscience was seared as with a hot iron,, and her soul was given over to the dominion of sin. “*She’ll die; the doctors say there is no hope at. all,” she announced, entering her mother’s chamber, as the day was dawning. The handsome old lady, aoe a Turkish dress- ing-robe, with her feet to the , yawned dismally.. “Tt is perfectly horrible being roused up at this: un hour,” she answered, ee a me shall ae over the shock for a week. at on earth could the girl have set herself on fire for? and she'll die. i say? Well, it will be better for all concerned ' She does; if she lived she’d be disfigured. for life, and in her grave she'll be well out of your way, Cassie. assie Said nothing, but her hee glowed, and her- cheeks burned, and a smile of exultation faer lips as she stood at the window watching the: sun. “She'll be well out of your y,” continued’ mamma complacently; ‘she was an amiable girl, - ; to be sure, and I’m sorry for her, po it is better as it is. I wish that crippled led, who. uts on such lo airs, and wags wh a sharp: ‘Fell’ be disposed Of in good time,” said Mré ‘He of: 6 * ee a ay, or many da soul of es Lauderdale hong een life ar death, and the agonies she su ‘were in, able. The great house was hushed and rened,, doctors came and went and her father hung over her bed in heartbroken d ; was utterly unconscious all the time, and her talk was pite-- ous to hear. : Her mind was contin running on Mr. Falk-- land, and she would tell him how much she and. missed him, and implore him to return to» ne with tears running down her poor, disfigured cheeks. 4 baad ote ““My poor child, m 4 sick room, and devoted herself to the poor ’ a tenderness which won back all her husband's: former faith and love, looked. up with tear- eyes... ‘‘He wrote to Aggie; Mr. Falkland, I Loree she said, as she drew a letter from her pocket. “TI: picked this up in the hall the night she was ae she must have had it in her h poor girl. , Mr, Lauderdale, why don’t you send for him?” Mr. Lauderdale shook his head. ~ 4 i “Tt is out of the question, my dear; he could do her no were good, and would not care to come. Give me the letter; it came inclosed to me. T am ye eA now I i hen iri cr Aas oa es shore Z. Jassie gave him the letter, and then bending over th sufferer the kissed her parched and discolored “My darlin, oe rp and we were so happy plan- ae "uly page ricals.. Oh, it breaks my heart to see _ er thus!” 2 Mr. Lauderdale’s eyes Ww moist as he watch her. She was so beautifal, 1 so graceful and 5 — in all her movements, and her sorrow seemed so cere, : “I wonder if I have wron her?’ he thought; “what could that interview in the Laurel Walk is meant? I'll findout! She does not look like a false hat power does that wretch hold over her? I'll wait! If the blame rests with De Bogan- ville, his life shall pay the forfeit; and she? Oh, my darling, my darling! I'd give my very soul to prove her Joyal and innocent. Wholly unconscious of her husband's thoughts, door, but some minutes elapsed before her shaking '| Cassie arose from her seat at the bedside,
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_ “DP have the: and. others more. beautif a priceless Te ont be long now before I am 22 A TERRIBLE DEED. “She seems a little easier now; I'll send the nurse eae and, if you don’t object, I think T'll order the pony carriage and have a little drive; head aches dreadfully.’’ my ully. Yes, you are confining yourself too closely; go by all means, my dear, and you need not hurry; fn remain here until you return,’ answered her hus- band, kindly, and as she arose to leave the room, he put forth his hand, and detained her. ¥ love,’’ he said, his voice unsteady, his eyes full of wistful love, ‘‘I can find no word to thank you for Pee kindness to my poor little girl, and, tiene if I have seemed unkind to you of late ’’—— He broke down utterly, and hid his face in his hands. She looked at him a minute with wide, won- pin cng then she bent down and kissed him as e@ “You unkind? Why, you are the best husband in the wide world.” Out in the hall, with the closed door between her and the sick-room, she laughed softly and mock- ingly. fe Bah: What a doting old fool he’ is! If I can only clear the po and silence De Boganville, there'll be no trouble about managing him.’ At the far end of the hall a re confronted her. It was Harry, supported by his crutch, his worn, thin face giving evidence of all he was suffering. Mrs. Lauderdale laid a detaining hand on his arm. “My poor Harry, you are on your way to Aggie’s room. She seemed just the least bit easier, and has fallen into a doze, I wouldn’t disturb her now.” The youth looked up at her, his dark eyes ablaze. “*T-won’t disturb her, Mrs. Lauderdale,” he an- swered; ‘you seem quite anxious about my sister; will it rejoice you to see her recover from the effects of this terrible accident?” “Why, Harry, what can you mean?” “Oh, nothing,” and he daughed mockingly; ‘nothing at all, Mrs, Lauderdale; you are not to blame in this matter of course.” - “Me! What are you talking about?’ and she sripped his arm, her face growing ashen white. e boy looked her straight in the eyes. “Tsaw you come out of my sister’s room, Mrs. uderdale, not ten minutes before she rushed out in a blaze; did you set her on jire?” Her eyes fell.before his steady gaze, her limbs trembled under her: for one minute her self-posses- sion deserted her entirely; in the next, she was her own fearless self, The red. blood leaped back to her cheeks, her eyes glowed with anger. ‘“‘How dare.you accuse me?” she cried fiercely; **T'll make you repent it.” dirs, Lau A She looked after him as he disappeared, her eyes gleaming in the dusk light. ‘“*You’ve sealed your own doom,” she whispered wae her breath, shaking her white fist after him. “‘Tll find a way to silence that sharp tongue.” = "CHAPTER XVI. / 0) EE INTERVIEW IN THE LAUREL Ww. posed of a a diamonds, and the round ye housand fiye hundred Gotten rs safe and rue t empty casket, as she sat in her ‘ 7 & poudoir, striving to away the lagging hours; a s] ce; mistress in my own ight, ovith no vig oul to come between me and my posse 1. I have worked hard, and my suc- ‘nd Cg pe Ferg de ode pat Aina lie , m, Ry BS you? Come here and kiss me.’ i through the low window, his t cw hanging al his flushed cheeks, his i ae arbles and whip-cord; a pretty, pro- His mother caught him in her arms and smothered fanaa’ own pretty boy; you'll be rich, and these broad lands when you're a man; Ma No, I ain’t to be a sol- and goto ee gece eat aces ; Iiseod him ; she would die, and I'm so sorry, What made the let the fire burn her up, and she was so good?”’ t him from her and rose to her feet, feel- t pi of guilt and remorse that her Beery ed own. ‘aybe she won't die. Run away to nurse now, Romney; mamma’s busy. "The Btiie fellow disappeared through the window, She Bo ties vines d ask the Lord not 1 } Or. e, ani rd no to let her die® said. AgEe, “ ‘The hours went slowly by; the clock on the man- tel struck six, and the doctors came in to look at their, patient, who lay unconscious and dying, as oe ncune ess a tomb; all th _ The ho }a tomb; all the gay compan departed, and the grand rooms ware closed : am oe Pupna down. the hall, his hands locked bebind his head bent upon his) breast, walked Mr. l e. Hisson, sitting just without the door of j r’s chamber, watched him with pityin eyes, “My poor father, how he suffers,” he t “*and how cheerful he used to bel ALK, d:Mrs., Lauderdale, had. dis- }- . Will you tell me the secret now? brought misery and sorrow with her the hour she entered this house! Poor father, how blind he is, he trusts her still; and I cannot increase his wretch- edness by speaking to him of what I suspect; I can’t do it, yet 1am sure Iam not mistaken, as sure as I am of God’s justice—I saw the guilt in her eyes when I accused her, and if e dies, she shall answer for her crime.”’ he clock struck the half hour, and Mrs, Lauder- dale came out of her boudoir, and entered the sick chamber. As she passed Harry, the two exchanged ~— of hate and defiance, but neither one uttered a word. Mr. Lauderdale, true to his purpose, even er py 0 daughter lay dying, put on his hat and left the ouse. “T must see him first,” he thought, as he walked vi re in the direction of the Laurel Grove. e entered the cool, shaded walk, and drew near the rustic arbor. Count de Boganville arose from the seat and advanced to meet him. For one brief minute the two men stood eye to eye, andin that roinute. the Frenchman mastered the situation. “The ne out of the bag,’’ he thought, as he bowed blandly. Mr. Lauderdale did not move an inch. ‘You are prompt, sir,” he said; ‘I thought your appointment was at seven.”’ “Tam always prompt, Mr. Lauderdale, when I have an important affair on hand. May I be per- mitted to ask if Mrs. Lauderdale sent you in her stead, sir?’ retorted the count, Exasperated beyond all endurance, Mr. Lauder- dale sprang forward and seized him by the collar. ““You scoundrel, how dare yous of my wife?” he cried, ‘‘ You met her in this place on Thursday. I was here in. the shrubbery, and. witnessed your interview. Now, Count De Boganville, I ask you as aman of honor, to tell me what this means?) What secret of my wife’s do you possess?” The count laughed softly. “Sorry to disoblige you, Mr. Lauderdale, but I couldn’t think of betraying a lady’s confidence: as a man of honor, you surely would not ask me?”’ The angry husband gave him a vigorous shaking, has rirabemted suspended the bland nobleman’s reath. “ You met my wife, and you demanded money of her!” he continued; ‘by what right? I have come here to find out, and I will.”’ ‘Mrs, Lauderdale has a secret, a sort of skeleton in her eloset, and she pays me not to betray her,” gas the count, ‘What is the secret? out with it, or 1’'ll not leave life in your miserable maser With what little breath he had, De Boganyille lanehe. “Tell you the secret, and lose my hush money? What do you take me for, Mr, Lauderdale?” ‘‘A scoundrel, a low sneak,’ roared Lauderdale .drawing a small riding-whip from his breast, * an I'm going to give you the finest beating that ever a eur had; And before the, Frenchman could make the least resistance, Mr, Lauderdale swung him round likea ? ‘feather, and let him have the whip about, his head and shoulders in a perfect storm of blows. “ Now, you villain, what do you say for yourself? laughed again, though his face was ang 1 of four t ¢ ae her pocket, ; ya livid with Cen and ~ “TT) have them back again,’ she said, Npoking e, * Yes, Tl tell you, Ur, Lauderdale, and in a way Bape’ fancy. Your wife sent you hereto cow- ide me, that she might saye her money? Ah, well she’ll repent it! Don’t strike me again; I’m, not your Payal in strength, but li make you weep tears of blood for every blow you’ve given me! Oh, oh, Tllhave my revenge, revenge is sweeter than old, . You shall hear the secret in good time, Mr. uderdale, You might haye made me your friend and ally; instead you have made me your enemy, and I never forgive.”’ Mr. La e raised the whip with a threaten- ing sture, but the count, eluding his grasp, darted the b the shrub e bery. on snail hear your wite's secret in good time, Mr, Lauderdale,” he called back tingly. Agsravaind and ed, Mr. derdale looked at watch, and se that it wanted but a few minutes of seyen, he threw himself down upon the rustic bench, determined to wait and se¢ if his wife would keep the appointment. “ My wife’s secret,” he mused. ‘‘ What secret can Speaie have? I wish I had throttled the impertinent ’ I had my hands on_him, and silenced his'slanderous tongue forever. But I'll have it out,” I can’t rest till I do; Pl wait for Cassie, and make her confess the whole truth, Poor child, I haven't the least doubt but that cunning scoundrel has be- trayed her inte some sort of trouble; I can’t believe she is false; I won’t believe it until the truth isforced upon me,’ _ His head fell into his hands, and he groaned aloud in his suspense and agony. A shrill voice, callin, hie name, aroused him. ‘Mr, Lauderdale, Mr. Lauderdale, are you here?” He sprang up and rushed out into the open grounds. A maid-servant met him, her face white with terror. A ‘Oh, Mr. Lauderdale, come to the house, quick, for the love of heaveni, She’s dying, the doctors say she won't live an hour.”’ : * Who’s dying?” he demanded, hoarsely. “Miss. Agnes, and poor Master Harry fainted dead, and ain’t come to yet.”’ confusion; the seryants r the doctors in his daughter’s chamber; and hi lying ona lounge in the hall, ina swoon. His wife met him at the door of Aggie’s chamber. “Try to be quiet and composed,” she whispered, prerigs * adl hand in his, “everything depends on hat. e slightest noise might prove fatal. You see how weak she is; the doctors thought she was ee a minute ago; and poor Harry was so moved, that he fainted away. The doctors say it is his heart; he can’t bear excitement.” ** Yes, poor fellow, he inherits the disease from me, I don’t think he will be likely to survive hig sister’s death. Heaven help me!” Groaned Mr. Lauderdale. ; She looked up at him with pitying eyes, brimful of ears. “* Oh, of poor love, how sorry I am for you,” she whispered softly. They drew near the bed, whereon Agnes lay, to- gether, The poor, tortured frame was still at last; the white face looked like death, the slender hands lay motionless upon the coverlet. ' “My poor Aggie,” cried the father, ‘‘is she dead?” The doctor, who stood, watch in hand, counting her fluttering pulse, raised a warning finger. “Hush! No, she’s not dead.) On your life, don’t disturb her. The father sunk down upon his knees at the bed- side, and hid his face in the cover; his wife stood by him, still clasping his hand; but when the great clock without struck seven, she disengaged her fingers and left the room. : Out of the house, out of the grounds and into the Laurel Walk she went with the step of an antelope. She heard the village steeples ringing out the hour, but she saw no trace of Count De Boganville. “T thoughthe would surely be waiting for me,” she thought, as she sat down upon the rustic bench and waited, her hand clutching the roll of money which was to purchase his silence. ‘' It is strange he is not here! Ah, heaven! if only something may have befallen him—if I could only see him put away in his grave, how secure I should feel.” } The minutes went slowly by. Dusk deepened into twilight, darkness fell like a mantle over the silent rounds, and through the green laurel boughs shone the misty autumn stars. The clock over the stables struck the half hour, yet Count De Boganville did not come. Mrs. Lauderdale waited patiently. “He will surely come,” she said. But another half hour passed, again the village bells struck, and she was a phe put th kage of in her pocket, and e put the package of money er pocket, an drew her mantis about her. “He won’t come to-night,” she said, turning to- ward the house; ‘‘something has happened to de- tain him; he may come to-morrow, Ah, well, let him come! To-morrow I shall be mistress of Lau- derdale Place, with a mint of money at my com- mand; I can afford to buy his silence until some bet- ter way opens. CHAPTER XVI. THE SECRET DISCLOSED. Mornine came, the sun rose above the city spires and the green, circling hills; the birds awoke in the yellow oak boughs, and trilled their matin hymns. In the silent house, the dying girl still lived, a faint breath stirring het colorless R ; ‘* How isshe?” questioned . Lauderdale of the doctor, as he came out from his morning visit. ‘‘She is alive, and that is more than} expected.” ** And her brother?” “Oh, he’s all right this morning—on his feet again; but.you’ll have to be careful and not let him be shocked or excited; his heart seems to be dis- — in some way, and a sudden shock might prove atal. a Mr. Lauderdale turned away in silence to the window which commanded a view of his extensive 5 soagone smiling beneath the glory of the opening ay. His heart ached! ncitli hopeless misery. He it spo ie ard is had no ken to his w nm regard to his inter- view with De Boganville; the ce of death in the house, throughout all the tedious night, had li his anxious ney wash to bear than his anxiety and grief for his dying child. He looked out upon the iden autumn morning be eyes that saw no uty in the smiling face of nature. : “With all my wealth, I am the most wretched man alive,” he sighed. ‘Heaven help me to bear tempting breakfast was arranged, in her hand. She aused at her ener side, and called to her she command ving the tray to the girl, “and say to him that hig father desires him to eat it; he is terribly in need of nourishment, poor boy. I don’t think he has tasted food since yesterday morning. Come, my dear,” she continued, taking her husband's arm, as the maid disa; “You must have some break- fast too; yen must, indeed. It is all ready, . nurse is with nye and I really think she is a little better, I do, indeed; she may get over it yet, In any event you must not give up so, Mr. Lauderdale; think of nen you h what the doctor said; try and bear up for his — and for mine.” e turned round suddenly, and took her in his life? My darling, I will not be angry. Tru time, your husband, between you ond that = e Boganville.”’ :
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A TERRIBLE DEED. 23 “What do you mean?” she faltered, recoiling tase wing white and rigid. Before he could utter 2 word in answer, a furious peal of the door bell resounded through the house, and there was a sound of heavy footsteps and angry voices in the hall. ‘ “What does all that mean?” gasped Mr. Lau- derdale, hurrying away. ‘“‘ Who dares to intrude into my house in that way and my daughter dying?” He rushed toward the door to ascertain the cause of the uproar. Left to herself, Mrs. Lauderdale stood for a mo- ment, her hands clasped, a look of wild terror in her So Soe ‘What has he found out? What does he suspect?”’ she whispered. - The heavy steps were silenced, but there came 4& sound of subdued voices from the hall. She looked about her like a wild creature at bay. “Has De Boganyille betrayed me?’ she gasped out, and darted off to her own room. J She had barely closed the door, when a shrill shriek rang through the house, and Fanchette burst in upon ‘her, with eyes protruding from their sockets, “Oh, Mrs. Lauderdale, he’s dead, he’s dead!” Cassie caught her by the shoulder, and shook her till what fittle bréath she had in her was gone. “Who's dead? Speak out, you fool, and tell me, or Pll kill you.” Poor Fanchette trembled in every joint; some- thing in the face of her mistress filled her with shuddering horror. “Master Romney,” she faltered out, supporting herself against the door, . Her mistress flew at her again like amad crea- ture. ““Pell me what you mean, or I'll tear your heart out!’’ she hissed in her ear. *“*T couldn’t help it,” wailed the frightened pi; * he was in Mr. Harry’s room, as merry as could be, and he went to the tray and eat some of Harry’s breakfast, and in a minute he fell on the floor dead; and there he lies now. Oh, dear! Oh, me!” Mrs. Lauderdale had heard enough. With.a stifled shriek she flew from the room, The hall was full of men in uniform, and she caught a glimpse of her husband’s face, deathly white; but she took no heed. She went straight on to Harry Lauderdale’s room. There on the table stood the breakfast-tray, a few _ of the cakes broken, 2 chicken-wing half eaten, and ? the coffee cup drained, and on the floor, his pretty face copyiised ie chub hands clutching his curly hair, lay little Romney—dead. ‘Mrs. Lauderdale,” said Harry, as the wretched woman took in the dreadful scene at_a glance, ‘*be- hold your work, I didn’t want my breakfast; and oor Romney did; he ate some of it, and there he es. Your evil deeds have recoiled upon your own head—you have poisoned your own child!” Acry that might have been the wail of a lost eg eg win through the house, and. the miserable mother threw herself upon the floor, and clasped ‘the child to her bosom, “My darling, my little Romney,’’ she moaned, “‘that I loved better than my own life. Oh heaven! what Ido? Send for the doetors, they must ve him!” aeBut there was no time. At that instant Mrs. Dun- har appeared in the doorway, her white crimps out tr, her handsome old face full of horror and an. ent, * Cassie,” e commanded, stooping down and grippin nee daughter's arm, “get up. you I want to Sh Ly darling, my baby, my little Romney, e's , “Ne ig TE af be well if you were dead also. Come, I say.” ; ip and staggered out intc the hall. use is of officers,” said her mother briefly; “they are here to arrest you for Romney — 's murder.” iad a ; ale uttered no word or ery; she Impressed by her mother’s yoice and manner, Casale got u “ e ho stood one turned to stone, her eyes staring () ‘ore her. i you hear?” continued her mother, “the ce) are here to arrest you for Romney ie’s murder—are you guilty?” “ Yes ha As she d out the le word, she darted into the oom where her fhe singe lay. another breath she was Lauderdale’s Bt alias thes s to the one. Outof Ha and down a bac ay en. Passing through the housekeeper’s room, she saw a shawl and bonnet thrown upon a chair. ithout pausing in her thless flight, she caught them up ps put beer Pind . us arrayed, she pass rough the servants’ into the rear garden The sun was just coming up, and all t verdure was hea’ he vy" went plu through it, with dew; she’ Pp ee har ug 1 it, ii her dain rs, and soili re robe, athe Svan stared after her, the dogs bayed at her heels, she did not pause. ae € garden, across the Rats down the shaded footpath which led to the river she flew like a creature possessed, ped Cpa ghastly mane: her colorless. lips apart, her eat eyes wide error. On and on, and on, startling the birds in the un- derbrush and the rabbits in the hedges; maki frantic leaps across rut and ravine, until she reache the river which ated her from the town. There, for the fret time, she paused; on the end of the rustic bridge she sank down, pantin Beaty sm - - for breath, Behind her lay Lauderdale Place, didn’t mean to kill ages : ing under the glory of the morning sun; right above her on the hill towered the lone old house which was her home in the innocent days of her early wife- hood; beyond the bridge lay the town and the rail- way station, from which an early train was steaming out. She watched it with eager eyes. “Tf T were only there,” she panted, “if I could get aboard the cars; I have money, and I might es- cape them.” she leaped to her feet again, and went flying across the bridge. As she neared the opposite shore, from the shadow of some ee ae al- ders, a dark figure arose and confronted her; a white, spectral face glowered upon her, a skeleton hand waved her back. She uttered a stifled shriek, for the white face was the face of her murdered husband, Romney Lysle. “Go back,” he spoke to her, in an aw voice, ‘an avenging Nemesis is on your track; you cannot Ne “Oh, Romney! — merey,” she gasped out, but she did not ed she rushed on; fear for her own personal safe iy a guilty dread of justice, stronger even than the horror this ghostly appari- tion inspired. Right on, into the very face of Rom- ney Lysle’s ghost, across the bridge, and up the shelving bank into the town. A second train was just leaving the station as she reached it; she did not pause to ask whither it was bound, she only got on board as swiftly and etly as posses she cried for very joy under her heavy vail, as she was whirled away. Meanwhile, at Lauderdale Place, the greatest con- sternati nd confusion prevailed. The house was searche r Mrs. Lauderdale, and she could not be found. Little Romney lay dead in Harry Lauder- dale’s room, and in his father’s ear, as soon as he found. an opportunity, Harry whispered his suspi- cions in regard to the child’s death. Mr. Lauderdale’s wretched face could. not grow one shade more ghastly, but he struck his breast with his clenched hand. ‘*Heaven help me,” he “Tam afraid my reason will desert me, arry, for the love of hea- ven, keep silent; don’t utter oné word of this to a living soul. She is accused of one crime, poor crea- ture, and she is gone; the officers are in pursuit of ee mn the midst of deserved wrath, let us be mer- ciful. The youth bowed his head, and said no more. Little Romney was borne into another apartment, and robed in white garments, and laid out on his little white bed, and every one who came in to look at his dead face believed the verdict of the medical men, that the child had died of sudden convulsions. .‘The morning wore away, noon blazed above the excited town, and evening came. Tne story of Mrs. Lauderdale’s flight and Mrs. Lauderdale’s crime was on every lip. All night long the streets were filled with ple, and when morning came, great placards, offering a reward for her arrest, were put up in noticeable positions, and the daily papers teemed with the wonderful story of her guilt. It was Count De Boganville- who accused her of Romney Lysle’s murder, and he told his story in a masterly manner. .At such a date, and such a time he was forced to leave France and his ancestral home, on account of certain pecuniary difficulties, and being hard up for money, he took with him some ve valuable ewels. He had succeeded in aned. Mrs. Lysle, lived. diamonds into money in the town, but failed, and by mere chance he called at the old house above the river, we the intention of asking for lodgings for the night. A ee housemaid met him, and he introduced himself as a peddler with jewels to sell, and was forthwith ushered into the presence of -the of the house, a handsome woman and a vain one, he saw at a glance, and offered -her his precious stones. She was eager to obtain them, and begged to wait until her husband came home. sleep on a lounge in . the sitting room, suspecting no danger or foul play. pe Heng row t sleeper aad late tir the aight i vos ae e aroused him. He looked a) ed his eyes and " ay ag Pip 3 bio o, mo ar. e saw ostess wu m. ne’ glimpse of her face revealed her daeenitions. stairs again, and he immediately arose and took his lant gad from beneath his head, and concealed imself in a small closet that occupied a corner of the room. He had not more than done so, when he heard a step tn the hall, and a gentleman came in and threw himself on the sofa he had just left, making his | overcoat into a ata He looked worn and jaded, ee and soon fell asleep. jouse She fom cr otistits in like a pantheress, her eyes glo like fire, and before he knew what she was going to do, she had stabbed the man on the lounge with a dagger which she had in her hand. She stabbed him twice and in his struggles he fell She on the floor, proeies — 3 ra bn a ‘SP upon him, and turn over, me ing under hishead for the jewel case, believing that the peddler was the victim, of course. en she found out her mistake, and saw her hushand’s face, she uttered a terrible cry. “Oh, heayen, I have murdered Romney!” and flew out of the room. : and concealed himself again. She hurried in, and seizing upon the body, got it into an ining room and forced it through a casement over- looked the river. A strange feat for a woman, but Mrs. Lysle was strong, and her husband rather a slight man. She got the bedy out at the window with comparative ease, and it fell into the river with a heavy splash. She then proceeded to remove all traces of the murder, and as soon as he found a safe chance, Count De Boganville made his escape from the house. This was the substance of the accusation which was to cause Mrs. Lauderdale’s arrest, and which filled all the inboe 3 papers. Count De Boganville was held in custody, and the pursuit of the fugitive was continued oughout the following day. Lauderdale Place was closed to every one save the doctors who attended Agnes, and one or two inti- mate friends. Mr. Lauderdale shut himself in the library to battle with his terrible grief, expecting ren hour to be called out to witness bis daughter’s eath, But, sit to all expectations, Agnes Lauder- dale lived, and when another twilight fell the doc- tors announced that there was hope for life. Under cover of the darkness . Preston drove over to Lauderdale Place for her mother. The old lady was expecting her, with an array of trunks and boxes about her feet. ¢ ; “I thought you’d come,” she said Pres ‘and got everything ready. I’ve packed my things, and the best of Cassie’s, though I can’t find any jewelry of value; she must have taken her diamonds with her. We'll go, and you can send for the lug- gage to-morrow.”’ lavia nodded. “‘T would have come sooner, but I couldn’t face the town, *Such. a disgrace as this is! But I told Abe I warned you, mamma, what the end would be! always felt sure that Cassie would ruin herself, and disgrace her friends, - You know how often I’ve said so, and now—well, I don’t like to say it, but it won't. amaze me if she’s found guilty.” Mamma shut her lips close‘as she stood before the mirror adjusting her veil. “Tt doesn’t matter any great deal; the pms he ‘is the same; and it all comes of making that miserable love marriage,” she said. ‘‘For one, I can’t say I feel much pity for her.”’. “Pity!” echoed Mrs. Preston, as they left the room; ‘we are to be pitied, not Cassie. I sha’n’t care if they hapg her, only for the shame. Ah, how na che hy predicted what the end would be, and ere i CHAPTER XVIII. : UNMASKED, , : Aut day ‘long, changing from one train to an other, Cassie Lauderdale pursued her flight from justice. She had no idea where she was going or what she should do. An insane desire to get as far as F eye from her pursuers drove her on. ith the housekeeper’s mantle wrapt over her pay morning robe, and the housekeeper’s pcan: el ing her ashen face, sh ‘ !’ and on she Tro “Th ‘os e hang > must esca) 4 whi all the golden aw through all the luminous autumn night. the train steamed into a ot out for an early Gronktien Whtettret eer of f . rom want : t with the rest, and foll nig’ the ia we owed them into the inn whe the food was served. nA “Let me have some bread and a cup of coffee,” she =. to the hostess when the rest had been serv for The good woman looked at Ker curiously eed “Why, how bad you look, poor soul,” she said, pitying: . “Are you is ‘assie drew down her veil with a shiver of terror. “Yos, I am ill,” re +i = have the hurry to pursue jo ae her iE gan vane aaa a side table, and pro a seated herself, when a man, wearing an \ badge, stepped into the room. He looked about him with inquiri eyes. The coffee cup fell from Cassie’s shaking eked was shattered at her feet. She started from her seat, and was out at the door in a twinkling. Like a lapwing she went flying aeross the inn pores and through an open gate into a green clover “What's the matter with that woman?” heasked, rine 3 = Vo yard, and looking after her, “She mv Some poor, mad creature,’ said the landlady. “See, she hasn’t tasted her break- fast.” “Through the clover field, and into the om woods beyond, the wretched fugitive made her way as fast as her failing limbs would carry her. But she did not hold out long; exhausted nature gave way before she was half-way through the forest, and she ora po to at the foot of agreat oak in a deathlike A poor, pale, disheveled fugitive, she lay prone on the wet earth, she who had once reigned as an em- press in the gilded salons of Paris. aod
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2% A short time after her flight from the inn, another train came in, and a. couple of men got off. “ Seen an, of a strange woman in. these parts; dark, and very handsome, wearing an embroidered cashmere robe?” . ; . The man with the official badge, still loitering in the inn yard, struck his hands together. “That’s her to a dot, by George! She was here not half an hour ago; I might have known she was a fugitive.” , ““She’s a murderess,” said the other. ‘‘ Which way did she go?” “Right wipes the clover yonder and into the oak wood hxe a hunted hare.”’ They hurried after her, and in a short time found her—dead, as they believed—at the foot of the great oak. But she leaped up at the first sound of their voices with.a frantic cry. “No, no, no! I won't £0 back! See, I have money,” producin a package of bills from her pocket. ‘‘ You shall have ail this, only suffer me to on,” The officer shook his head. . * “We don’t want your money, Mrs. Lauderdale; we are here to arrest you in the name of the law.” But when they laid hands on her she fought and tore like a mad thing, and the officers were forced to pinion her, and to carry her back by force, nother morning was dawni over the newly- awakened world, and the birds in the green groves at Lauderdale Place were filling the golden air with melody, when—all fettered and guarded like a felon—she who had once been the belle and the beauty of her native town, was marched down the quiet streets, and consigned to a cell in the old stone prison, there to await her trial for her crime, so long unsuspected and concealed. When the next assizes came round, the case was taken up, and created the most intense excitement throughout the country, shel ws flocked into town from all quarters to hear the , and to get a look at the beautiful prisoner. The best | talent that the country could af- ford was engaged for the defense. Mr, Lauder- dale, while he not} a single doubt in regard to his wife’s guilt, determined to do all in his power to save her; and scattered his money like water. The trial opened with great promise, and the counsel for the defense was more than sanguine about the issue, when to every one’s surprise and consternation, Mrs. Lauderdale utterly ruined: her by pleading guilty, and making a full crime conf. ession 3 “Tt is just like her,’? remarked Mrs. Preston, bit- terly, ‘precisely the course I should have predicted for ‘ for her And before the trial closed she and her mother e jury chanced to be = of stolid men iicieeetaepaile or easily moved, and the prisoner’s . Lauderdale, in the infinite pity of his great, good me to visit her, she went down on her at his feet, and prayed and implored him to save her life. And he did all that could be done to avert her be bribed or turned aside from the beaten track of justice. The autumn week glided by, and November came, with it day of ; the y of execution. Sitting in her Cassie Lauderdale heard the river washing roy ber winds wailing through the | above all, the cee of the ca: mers, as | 6 ghastly ' : She hi , shuddering in. every limb, her face deathly white, her great eyes wide and wild with eT Rind ityin men and women came to wee her, put she did not bed them; the old pastor; who had own her ever since she was born, came with words of loving instruction, but she laughed in his very face, a des te, mocking i a f Don't come here to torture me, I suffer enough it does no good. sat is no hape tar a wretch likeme! The med the thief who hung beside him! Yes, but there is no pardon for a murderer. away and leave me. If you cannot save me from this awful death, there is nothing else you can do.” i know, Savior And the old minister went away exceedingly sor- r ¢ The dismal morning wore on, noon drew near, d curious people began to throng about the prison. in Lauderdale did not move, or turn her hope- less from the grated window. But in one hand she clutched a py caren flask, which she had kept i person, ‘Tl wait till the last moment,” she said, in a h iy voice, ‘‘ there may be a chance for me yet— ry eed roe 8g Hey nag aon my m on ie our; e 4 I don’t ees 5 die. But if the worst comes, I’ not them hang me—”’ ; poke there was a sound of foot- steps in the corridor, and her cell doorswung open. She hid the tiny bottle in her bosom. You know as well as- Go: A TERRIBLE DEED. seen ee entered and stood silent before her. She looked up at him and a of surprise broke from her lips, and her dull eyes brightened. “Oh, Mr, Falkland, have you come to help me?” “*T have come to help you. I made up my mind to let youdie. You deserve your fate; I thought to keep my secret forever, never to let the world know who and what I am—but my heart failed me.I loved you once, and you are the mother of my child. ie, do you know me?” > He swept his hand across his face, removing the false hair and beard he wore. She caught one limpse of his face, and the prison rang with her rantic shrieks, ‘Oh, Romney, Romney, have you come back from the dead to aceuse me?” ; ‘* Not to accuse you, to save your wretched life. . I am no ghost, but a livingman. When you threw me into the river that night, 1 wasn’t dead. My body drifted ashore, and an outward-bound craft picked meup. I was restored.to life and reason, but had no desire to return home. I wandered off to the ends of the earth, but love for my wife, although she had tried to murder me, brought me back. “T came as Mr. F nd, and Papen the old river house that was our happy home. I found you more beautiful than ever, the mother of a boy, my son, I hoped, nay I believed I could win you from your love of wealth and admiration; you remember that night, when Lasked you if Romney ey could come back from his grave, if you would be glad to see him? You answered me no! You would rather have him dead, you could not be happy asa poor man’s wife, ‘Then I determined never to reveal nigel to you, or to any soul living, and when you would marry Mr. Lauderdale for his money, I let you have your way; but I cannot see them hang you, Cassie, is you have blasted my life, and broken my eart.”” Her wide, startled eyes had never turned from his face; crouching forward on her knees, she looked up ay him, her lips apart, her breathing hoarse and a ‘Romney, Romney, Romney,”’ she gasped broken- Vy, “it is Romney! oh, thank Heaven, I didn’t mur- er you after all! Romney, I didn’t want to kill ‘ou, I wanted the peddler’s diamonds! I never in- tate to harm you; I loved you always, always! Come a little nearer; jet: me touch your hand! Oh, Romney, forgive!”’ The last words died away in a hoarse gasp, and she fell heavily forward at his feet. Hé@ raised her up, white and limp, and uncon- scious, a crimson stream trickling through her ashen lips, She never spoke, never regained her reason again, There was no need of the gallows-tree, no need of the concealed poison; before the wild November night closed in, she was dead. CHAPTER XIX. THE END, Tan Lady of the Lake was homeward bound from a long foreign cruise, and amongst many other ps s were Mr, Lauderdale and his two children Ever since chapter, the and altho ITY, drawn a little apart on you; l’ve no desire to but Beresford’s such a fine fellow, and he would be such a g match. One of the best names, and the oldest titles. in. England, and the frente old ial mansion, I was up there for a week’s ' shoo how patiently he has waited _Ireally wish, my dear, you would think twice before you refuse him.” : The girl’s fair face, still traces of that “terrible secident which had so nearly ‘cost her her life, colored, and her bosom rose and fell de .. 4 ing bu Pied ‘‘Tam sorry to disappoint Rigs Pap, no use in thi about it; inking he world fees grin on me change my mind; I shall never accept Lord Beresford.” Mr. Lauderdale sighed, and watched her with’ wistful, tender ey never be cured She’s not like other women! old attachment, poor ‘alkland, though she knows all that miserable story. of his re eee Pee real name, she’ll never forget’ him.; I wonder where on the wide he is, poor. fellow. I piti the course he pursued.”’ , The summer stars dropped lower in the glowing pal and the summer night drifted towards a golden wn. Somewhere amid the small hours. there was a greet pasa on board the steamer, and @ shrill cry. of fire Then followed a scene of diré dismay and con- fusion. The Lady of the Lake was soon wrapped in flames, a the passengers crowded the deck in wild panic, © for help, and precipitating each other into the river. ; The boats were lowered, and every effort was made tosave them; but the fire had gained such headway, and such dismay and disorder prevailed, that very little could be done. | Seores of souls were forced to leap into the water, in order to the pursuing flames, and would all have perished but for the heroic efforts of the captain of a small craft lying out in the channel. He sent out his boats and worked with such vigor } and unselfish daring art with you, my dear, ' and it’s a cheeing Par And to, think . these years; eS. ; ; > he thought, ‘‘Harry was right, she will of that , poor girl. She’ll never forget- ed him, even while I blamed him for | in ngland?” “Queen te) ,andal shall make his life so bright an that very. little life was. lost. Amongst the very fast passengers. who left the burning decks of the Lady of the Lake were Mr. Lauderdale and his two children rocki boat, and Mr. Harry got og into the Lauderdale was ending Agnes down, when her foot apres, and she fell into the water. The boat shot off, and Mr. Lauderdale plunged in to save his ld. But there was another before him, the cap- tain of the vessel from which the boats were sent.. “Save yourself, sir,” he shouted, and before the current of the burning ship had drawn the girl under, he had caught her in his arms, and was mak- ing, bis way to the vessel. ; _ Mr, Lauderdale, with great difficulty, succeeded in saving himself;-and on the deck of the rescuing vessel he received his daughter from her deliverer’s arms. : _ “How shall I find words to thank you, sir?” he began, and stopped short in astonishment. e stood face to face with Romney Lysle. Two weeks later, after a stormy and perilous passage, Captain Lysle’s vessel was nearing its native shores. , Mr. Lauderdale stood on the deck, looking to- wards the green land line with eager eyes, “Well, there’s home at last,” he said, ‘‘and I’m ane to see it, though when I left five ears ago I ought I should never care to return. Home is the best place after all, Captain Lysle.”’ ““Yes, when one has a home. I have none, Mr, Lauderdale. I am both homeless and nameless.”’ Mr. Lauderdale looked at him wistfully. “You are not going into port, then?” “No, sir, Ishall never leave my vessel’s deck until Lleave it for a grave in the sea. I have parted from the land forever. A man like I am has no right toa home in the midst of happy, hopeful people. There was a long ae then as the green hills drew nearer, Mr. Lau erdale laid his hand on his companion’s arm. - “Falkland,” he began, ‘‘Ilike you by your old name best; you and I have suffered eenly, and fromthe same cause. I felt very bitter toward you whenI first found out that you were Cassan- dria Lysle’s husband; but time has cooled my anger’ ~ and healed my pain, and although I still blame you for many things you have done, I can forgive you. Let us shake hands. You saved my daughter’s life, and that act makes me your debtor forever.”’ Silence again; the Pret, sunlit hills looming near with every motion of the ponte vessel. *“*You saved my daughter’s life, sir, and now I am.about to ask you todo me another favor; wil} you nt it, sir?” “Tf I can, Mr, Lauderdale, I will.” “You remember that I asked you to leave home years ago, Mr. Falkland, on my daughter's ac- co “‘T remember, Mr. Lauderdale,” “Well, sir, I am about to ask you now to return home again for her sake.” Dead silence for some minutes, bs Raed captain th suppressed - faced about, his features working wi emotion. : “What do you mean, Mr. Lauderdale?’ he de- manded, his voice hoarse with excitement. . “IT mean this: my daughter’s happiness is dearer tome than my own life, and I can’t see her fading away like a hted flower. She could marry to- morrow one of the first men in England; but, Mr. Falkland, she is one of those foolish women who can- not re a first love. I asked you to leave her: ‘once. [ask you now to go down and see her; she is in her state-room yonder,” . ‘ Hae aed L pies tate g and a a ‘Mr. Laude’ what.can you mean?” —— “Precisely what I have sala, sir; a word to the: wise is sufficient.” : : “But you forget, sir, all my miserable past, all wy AT rbet ererythitig tat Cadbvdl Wi? tot .. “I forget ev ut the love only” child, and the desire to see her happy. Will sou go yer | and.see her?” Half an hour later he returned, with Agn Yana Lysle went without another word. ) es lean- on his arm, her sweet face radiant with holy .| love and joy. “Oh, papa,” cried she, claspihg her father’s hand,,. “how happy ou have made me, and I will make you both so y now, that the past and all its roubles shall be forever forgotten,’ Mr, Lauderdale only took her in his arms and her. Later, sitting under the stars, as they neared their native eae. ta said: mi “And you love this man s0 much would sooner be his wife than to be ; of Towers, and one of the grandest ladies “Yes, Papa; I would sooner be his wife than be ngland. He loves me 0, ghee ey. Neorean 6, you all his trouble. sch: papa, I am the happi datkn Wier aid ‘noetag ble ‘rite rkness of his bygone life, and seeing e's, \ ers ye ike a hope- gild all his oO d its si aversive let ae song ver the past an ns and 80. € curtain of binge oe fall; re oe Shops rey ee let us Jearn this.lesson: rings its own unishment, and Virtue never fails to win its bright ‘oward : THE END. Waverley Library. OB Gie horas Tutteres Wy Gak-wownd Tre AvuTHor’s Davi ; BEADLE AND ADAMS, 86 Willian Streat, i, Y.