Waverley Library (Quarto Edition) (no. 89) (1881 07 26)
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Price, but 5 cents each. The Only Young Ladies’ Library of First-Class Copyright Novels Published! Copyrighted in 1881 by BrEapDLE aND ADAMS. Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Clase Mail Rates. No.89. VoL. IV. PRICE, 5 CENTS PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, 98 WILLIAM ST,, N.Y. < A GILDED SIN. By the author of “A Queen Amongst Women,’’ ‘‘Dora Thorne,” “From Gloom to Suntight,’’ etc., ete. f att ine ny ae Bae Piles me aa eae 3 i malt be a He et ou fades ei Hiding, 8 st eal Uitdnnaye tavtee ley aged at got ap fru eating LH ai ps eae be ae as 8 iH i ba B's du ec iia Ba il 3 2 “3451 Egacbs ; ny i eis in Hg i; Hells TUT H THT can ne ae 48 : THIET gupres ate Shag f4 ge ce TE hilt ge : { rt if stills fa, fied ‘i ip it sig SEHR eer in THe He ad at il iti ball te aie 2 bin beaenitie i Tee it ah : ical ats Ha Hf nite 3 tt Lhe hal ae ji Ht Ht; aati i PASE ell edeesibeaanna leaned
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eS Ovlisha, and she lived al i her. ry tae on the beauty “WE fair dull, gloomy, half-ruined old palace with re . ee rae and love it gi . Assnnta. . one, happy year the ‘Ge on beauty beattty ‘and love ere the last descendants of oble but ruined race. ee sunshine and A ahies they were so unutterably i ough the In the life of the elder sister ta there had been.#| happy t it seemed ordinary doom of man ey wy 4 eae em. been yng, in befouh, with the dark pic-|.. ‘“There has never been_a love so strong, so beautiful as turesque beaaty of the Venetian women; and her lover, who/ ours,” he would say to her. held an appointment under the Venetian Government as it a7 amidst the olives and the vines, “amidst the gorgeous existed then, had gone to. England on political business, | flowers and the s blossoms on the shores of the sap- and there had been foully and treacherously murdered. For}phire sea, under the light of the golden sun and the shining this Assunta hated the English and England with a deadly | stars, amidst the music of birds and the laughter of sweet hatred. blossoms; they lived and:loved. She prayed morning and night for vengeance upon the; Only one year, and agg the little child whose coming was rfidious. and: accursed country; she would have seen .an| to. have- crowned. their happiness was born; but its birth en glishman die of hunger at her feet rather ‘than have re- | cost its mother her life; and the same day on which the lit- Seve him with even a crust of bread. tle Veronica opened her eyes, her mother, the beautiful She was twenty years older than Giulia, and every year | golden-haired Giulia, closed her own for ever. grew bitterer. Swift to love and swift to hate were the Brandons of Their nts had died when = was twenty-six and the Queen’ : eee little golden-haired Giuka only si oung mpther with keen, intense They had but little sigh: the gdh y ol pace, sn oa " the road hime to wonder | . a ie dont Bair ak
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A GILDED SIN. that ha ed; when he recovered his senses, the roses had withered, the passion-flowers were dead, and ‘the winter was coming. He was ing, not in his own house—wise doctors had forbidden 7 at—but in one of the large hotels in Venice, fighting for life. He lived, but the world was never the same to him again His youth, his love, his hopes, his heart—all lay in the grave of his young wife. He was never the same. When he was strong enough to trayel, he returned home, and his parents were almost be- side themselves with i grief at his changed face. **A fever caught in Italy” explained it all. Lady Bran- don sighed mournfully over it. ‘‘ Ah, if he had but been content to stay at home!” Then he realized what he had done, what he had suffer- ed, what he had lost. He was not ashamed of his marriage, but he shut up the sweet sad love-story in his heart, guarding it as a miser guards his gold—not to have saved his life could he have spoken, Giulia’s name, It seemed impossible to him that anyone should ever un- derstand that sweet mad love of his. How should they? ‘* Jasper, you must’ marry. My son, let me see your children raid my knees before I din. z : The words touched him greatly; and that same-day: his Pree) came to him with a pleased, expectant look on her * teont & Lady Marie Brandon flung herself heart aid sonl into her husband’s interests—he owned: himself that she was his it hand.’ re bee ont sine reed! ) . his reasonings, ue; itileas logio failed; failed, then her powers of fascination succeeded. roimamiae) bre vig Lady Mario Brandon became a power in her way; her season in town was always one = ee rooms were always , | balls. and soirees. a8 though they had reosved royal bi F [ot tees aWo Sudier had his reward. Let binow odZ When old Sir Francis lay dying he called his son to ere ce Sheree MIRE Fe me a. 4 Tm. ’ Bisa roacrortet gi iF ““You have been a good son to me, J ” he said. “You have never given me one ee a me hee thes ve leant wor, thy reid. fr bs ey were tw ; oraine. iw eae SRR SRE ‘ succeeded him. - * idyonl yao Some months ‘a little da was born to him, who, by his mother’s wish, was Katherine, and, when Katherine was a child of seven, Lady Brandon died. Then Sir Jasper and his wife took up their ubode at Queen's ‘The time camé! when his name was a tower of strength rejoiced to see him at the head of party, when he. became the véry hope of the
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— -— ee 4 A GILDED SIN. nation, from his clear;|calm judgment, his earnest truth, | Italian and German. She sang with a clear, sweet voice. his marvelous talents, rhy | She danced gracefully, and was no mean artist, Her father ‘No. one ever asked, if-he were happy in the midst of it | had taken care that no pains should be sp in her edu- alli oo ; jit ; » |¢ation, no expense, no labor. The result was she developed He was courted, popular, famous, but his face was not! into a, brilliantly accomplished girl. He was delighted the face of a happy man, and once—his wife never forgot | with her. it+he—had fallen asleep after, 1 the most brilliant; . Katherine Brandon had made.her debut; royal eyes had reception evér accorded to a publie man, and, when Lady | glanced kindly at the fair, bright young face She had went to rouse him, the pillow on which his head more lovers than she could count; a beauty, a great heiress, had lain was wet with tears. | cloves accomplished, with a laugh like clear music, and wee Ai that never a no wonsles ee 84 of the mers ‘ eligible men in England were at her feet. She only laug CHAPTER II. at them at paahe It was the time for smiles; iaesemie SEVENTEEN years had passed since the birth of Kathe-|come afterwards. If there was one she liked a little better rine Brandon, and no other child had been given to Queen’s | than the rest, it was Lord Wynleigh, the second son of the hace. Earl of Woodwyn, the poorest earl in England, The long-wished-for heir had never appeared, and the} Lord Wynleigh was handsome and clever. He had hada hopes'of both parents were centered in the beautiful young | hard fight with the world, for he found it difficult to keep heiress. She was just seyenteen, and a more perfectly lovely | up appearances on asmall income; but he forgot his poy- ideal of an English girl conid not have been found. erty and everything else when he fell in love with charming, To look at her was a pleasure. The tall, slender figure, | tantalizing, imperious Katherine Brandon. with its perfect lines — curves, the face, with its.glow of} Would she ever care forhim? At present the difference youthful health, the subtle grace of movement, free| in her behavior towards him and her other lovers was that easy carriage, the quick graceful step, were all as pleasant} she langhed more at him, affected ter indifference to were rare. him, but never looked at him, and she flushed crimson at Like her mother, she was a blonde beauty; but she had| the mention of his name. more color, puree Her hair was of golden brown} That same year Sir Jasper was much overtasked with _ in the sunlight, brown in the sh work; he was so ill as to be compelled to consult a physi- eyes were of a lovely violet hue; they looked like| cian, who told him that he could not always live at pansiés steeped in dew. Her face had a most exquisite | pressure, and that if he wished to save himself he must give color, lilies and roses so perfectly blended that it was im-| up work, and rest for a time, possible to tell where one began and the other ended. It In order to do this, the illustrious statesman decided on © 5 ze Ee & ~2t was as in as in face. was at the ing of October that he received the none of the characteristics of the silent, courtly race of letter which so altered iia at bi We ee tat of E ; i i Ht i ahs : f Ee il ; z i E ple z3e HH uy Hi te . y she vely face; | than any she had ever used bef , quickly moved to wecteat She told i ds re. sensitive, nobl oung wife he had so dearly loved, and that uli Hiih ha aT | E ets d Hl HG BE i ai us a ie F E she declared, than Queen of England. She loved the place, | unlike other girls becanse she lonely she enjoyed the honors and advan connected with it. Loven tbat ine iether tnd eee foe fo She had ‘inherited just sufficient of her mother’s character | parentage or of her birth. I have t her—Heay to make the advantages of her position. me if I have done wrong—to hate English. Me Fla 5 between them was that Lady Brandon may bear evil fruit or I know not. I wealth, the pomp, the honors of the world, while the child as no one else ever can, and I say to most de- Katherine loved its brightness and its pleasures. cidedly, if ever you wish to win her lone or bee do ~ Sir Jasper was very much attached to his daughter; his | not shock her at first by telling her that you ame her tabs. own wife never reminded him of his lost love, but. his | remember she has been tought to hate tlie English, and ta daughter did. eatathing in her bright, glad penis Baber believe that her father is dead. Let her learn to know canny laughter, in her bright eyes, remin him of the and to love you first, then tell her when will. 4s beantital enetian girl whom he had loved so madly. In this on you, for I know her well. ie yA :
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A GILDED SIN. 5 Lady Brandon lay on the couch engrossed in a nov a: isa domestic difficulty, about. which I shall have to ask your A clear, bright fire was burning in the grate; the warm air help. was perfumed with the odor of flowers. t the word ‘domestic ” Lady Brandon opened her book He raised his h face as he read. again—matters of that descri fim, never. inbenenton Bet, Great Heaven! what was he todo? He had almost for-| ‘‘ The fact is,” continued Jasper, ‘that a friend of fotten the very existence of the child. She had faded from | mine has died can in Italy, me has left me a ward.” memory. ‘‘A ward!” cried Lady Brandon.
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6 A GILDED SIN. *' Botit ladies settled the matter in their own minds and | her with a sharp, sudden cry? ‘There was the very spot on 2CCO! in to their lights. bly been “one who shared her husband’s political secrets; ‘and Katherine thought to ‘herself that it was probably | inquiries—“ less someoné whom ‘her father had known in his youth. : Moog! were both content, and talked quite’ amiably about it. _ Si'Jasper bore it as long as he could; then he quitted the room and ‘went to his study. é “©You see, Katherine,” said Lady Brandon, ‘‘if the is really noble and wealthy, it will be an acquisition rather than otherwise.” ** Post pleased about it, mamma,” cried the girl. ‘«T| she is alone in the world—t which he had: stood when Giulia’s fair face first shone down concluded that the dead friend had proba- | upon him! ‘<Tt is nothing, child,” he said,/in answer to heranxious than nothing—a sharp, sudden pain. that hurts but will never kill me.” * How do you know that it will never kill you, papa?” she asked. ** Because, my darling, if it could have shortened my life, it would have, done so long ago,” he replied... ‘‘ Now irl | show me all the arrangements you have madeformy ward.” “ Papa, ” eried generous beautiful Katherine, “* she will be very dull, she will be wey lonely. Do-you su that at she has no other fends but have always felt the want of a sister; now I s have |us? If she had but one, it. would be something.” ones “#* Pwould'not say anything about that, my dear, until | ask her when she comes.” mu have seen what she is like,” said dent Lady Bran- ‘<I cannot tell you, Katherine,” he replied.. “ You must He was pleased. to see the arrangements his wife and 0 pen “it is always better not to commit one’s self in any | daughter had made for her, yet, as the time for her arrival "he ~“"Phey discussed the matter in all its “eom plete’ confidence between this mother and child. materia at her mother’s very candid worldli- ; she teased about her worship of Mammon. But fond of her; while Lady Brandon worship drew near, he trembled and shuddered like one seized with ings; there was| sudden cold. He had to meet the child he had literally given away—Giulia’s daughter. CHAPTER IT, she her peantiful child—she thought there was no one like her} VeRowntca stood before her father—a tall, beautifal woman ‘in’ the wide world—all the love of which she was capable, | with a noble Venetian face. She was quite unlike anythi the love of heart and soul, was centered on and im her oe fecawhils Sir Jasper was in a fever of dismay. What should he do? It was as thou youth had suddenly risen up “ithe became lear him that he must send sehdensfotthes fashion. to her. Whom could he send? He could not he had pictured: He had fancied a girl with Giulia’s sweet face, with her golden hair and sensitive li The girl before him looked like a Roman Empress but the dead ghost of his | that she had Giulia’s eyes—her dark, tender, passionate eyes ore him; he was utterly | —the eyes that had made for him the only light he had ever known—with hair as black as night and worn after the old . She was more beautiful than her te mother had ever sel was not strong to travel; nor did he care been, but it was a different type of loveliness. to again the where he had suffered so m As he gazed upon her, Sir Jasper Brandon owned to him- He t to Ah mai me an egal fag gig most beautiful and the saddest face agent, John Segrave, a ser eee ee eyes eatery iy Air rote at once to summon Mr. and, when he} ‘* Where have I seen a face something like it?’ he asked ; Queen’s Chace, he told exactly the same | himself. Then he remembered that it was in one of his I t he had told his wife. f ; ran in the Louvre. you to go to Italy,” he said, “to bring back} He had gone hi the station to meet her. Lads was r a eg ward, who is for the future to { SL puleidedwhthitahady and th am and wight in a state of teivible-ens- Would she torture him with her mother’s face—with her If so, he could not bear it-—he should go mad. ight bons cio thauhle that daaulee. lect wetdees December came with its frost and cold, its biting wind a snow-bound earth, before that question was answered. | lish?’ ‘on the second of December that he received a letter Mr. Segrave, saying that charge on the fo he hoped to reach the Chace with his day. Sir although he beat down turned with suite of rooms in ight in the winter ice flowers. said Katherine. - 4 ~ like papa,” biguaAphat-T have put heve—all the ltskian views and pho- | had to come to find. See—here is the Arno, here is the | “ we Yes,” he ied. Why did he pause and turn from | you would feel tal at first in a ae was very shrewd, and Katherine He felt that he might betray himself. So he had decided Po a pl tha. the fist shock might pass un- oe was when she looked up at him ing back the an- out his hands ‘* Veronica,” he said gently, ‘‘ welcome did not kiss the beantiftal face—he dared lish; she acetone: the language exceedingly well, but with charming Brag musical and * Yes, ish; it was m : : heen own d ine may aunt wa se mote sa I learned t y you wish earn?” said, “Tei after your. beautiful liquid Italian.” “ It is harsh to stir in ly knew ** I cannot.tell; but something seemed = em Ps ee very mention off England. Now I know what it was? iain deerme * What?” he we. wondering if any idea of the trath “Tt was a i reeled “it was because I you my guardian?” she asked timidly, — “T came to meet ;_I though strange country» .
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A GILDED SIN. 7? “‘T have been dull all my life,” she said with a smile— the saddest smile he:had ever seen. “*We must try to make you happier,” he said. ** Why are Ahmed guardian?” she asked., ‘‘I cannot understand it. My aunt never spoke to me of you untilshe was dying; and then she told me that faraway in England there lived a richy gentleman who would be my guardian when she was dead— [was to live with:him in England and_ be docile to him. ‘It will not be difficult to be very doeile to ou.” re Why?” he asked. *« Because I like you,” she answered simply. ways tell:at first sigh and I do like you He helped her into the carriage and sat down by her side; the servants were busy with her lngenee- Mr. Segrave drove home with Sir Jasper and his ward, to himself: and all the way the baronet was saying : “* This is Giulta’sy daughter; that. beautiful head lay on Ginlia’s ‘breast—that is Giulia’s child!” He longed to clasp her im his arms, to say: “‘You have your mother’s eyes, child; you have the same sweet voice and the same loving All his fancied dislike melted as he gated on her. \ He w he co ve Fem ore = he could have hated her, n her. roached himself for it with bitter reproaches. dhe have been unkind to Giulia’s child? **T can, al- t whether I shall like anyone-or not, am Veronica, but my love for your mother is shut up in my heart. “It is my most i secret; it is 80 to me that I cannot talk of it; I cannot tell tempted, _to himfelf—*‘‘ not yet. He turned to her suddenly. “<Tell me about your life, Veronica,” he said. . ‘“What made it so dull? w have you spent it?” ong, I think.. She never but she hated the i i dull histories and in. inting.” Poor child,” he eaid cit eas not a very bright life, * was it?” ~~ ’ *“No. I have often asked her to tell as pom mother ‘orm me. 's grave.” w white with emotion. He said. to who has never known one bright hour.” He dared not look at her lest she should wonder at the pain on his face. , ** How old are you, Veronica?’ he asked. ‘Lam twenty, a8 men count that I have lived’ century in. the dark old palace. | Yellow heme tt od apirita who welled Wl aight, rongh the long | at When my aunt was y with me he chat I,was a child, an ienorent ld. I thi myself I am very old, more like a Woman whose years are run than a child.” “You will not feel so when you have lived a = the Engli *« Veronica, look round is ” i ly. longer dich winter. ‘Do you ste how white the ground is is an winter. ae hang ia’s child .who has led this sad life—| anno years,” she said, ‘‘It seems} Husband and wife were she nk on a low sparkles on the ice, I do not think there is a grander sigh in ‘the world.” ‘«T wonder,” said Veronica musingly, ‘‘ why my, aunt disliked England so much—do you know?” He tried to answer her indifferently. Pr ** It would require a yery, learned, philosopher to under- stand a lady’s likes and dislikes,” he, said, ‘‘ Veronica, you say that you have had a very sad life; let me advise you to try to forget. it—forget the gloomyaunt who seems to have been so mistaken, Just as a flower opens its heart to the sun, open yours to the sunshine of happiness,, Will you ‘<7 will try,” she answered. tell me.” “rol s of the park through which,they were driving, and.then,.im the distance, ‘s How. beautiful!” she cried, ‘‘ And see—the sun on it; it looks as though Heaven were blessing it.” a b house b ht.to be h as ham super ht one d ight. ers. *« Tell nem cried" what do you call this beautiful hat must I call you?” , vee And he taught Giulia’s child to call him Sir Jasper, whi from her li _ * Some . day,” he aid Smart sd Say a me ‘ father ’—and I shall hear all earth’s music in the honse. He 7 his face. a ** Veronica,” try?” 3 yuaed ‘*T will do anything you Then he pointed out;to her the beauties of the towers of Queen’s Chace. : shines He wondered what she would say if she knew lace? Teach me to say it; teach me to say your name, longing. with all his heart to hear the word ‘father about it, and she will know. Then I will ask Sir J said one mg Veronica on entering. that is, I wish to give you a piece of ild,. replied: “% will—1-will do whatever you tell me.” And he knew from that moment that. any He winced at the words, but made no reply. pte : Z ynont? Lady Brandon smiled as she continued: a ee $ Se ager i I am not sure that it is wise to bring a rival beauty into the wee Sir Jasper looked up impatiently; this woman’s tattle “She will never harm Katherine,” he somewhat sternly, tpl nope gery bag mor beer I want her to like the young stranger. See—that is a pretty picture.” . ; rae af Noa, proton tgncepis -room, a8 one a to Claas wea tale ASR two. girls were at the other end—Katherine seated cha, be golden head hon back, and Veronica kneeling on the her side. The two faces were each * yal elffered entirely. Veronica was gazing at girl with something like rapture in her face, Katherine was a new revelation of beanty to her. “<Tell me something about your home,” said Katherine, huge diamonds from the trees|“‘'The one dream of my life is to go to Italy; but When the eb bined on the snow and| never hear of it.” 7 Pa papa will
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A GILDED. SIN. Veronica gave oné yrs glance’ across ‘the ‘room "to ‘the [life without'them. For years I heard but one voice, and it e dark, handsome face ence over her. Remembering her promise, she answered. eee me about an you will,” she replied, *‘ ex- t about home. I cannot of it.” erine looked at the flushed face, and, thinkin Fa epee she stooped and er. **T will not ask you grieves you, Veronica,” she said. a have lost everything—everyone. ae with us after a time. that | But for one; and you will love papers an always “en loves him when they know him.” man who had so great an influ-| never addressed me kin about home or anything else that skies were blue, and that the light of the sun was all go «It must be very sad; but I did not understand the glory and the loveliness that uw will be seems common to you. You shall be my sister—I haye | of 'y. Noone in all this world has been so utterly alone.” * mdilat of beauty and loved ifort; even Ae servants who to worshi " ‘Look at at these bright threads of gold!- You ‘to. me more lovely than a poet's Greami.”')-' Retberine otal flattery was always pleasant -to’ her. deer tala a that you were belintiful?” Eats sean Und speak of bony me ce let pn 4 tell. alee a now,” aid a, i elas See Bae 80 = Mine ‘pink. fi artic a, carla wee loveliness. 4 am like ‘a’ bud, cal’ passion flower. ’ ‘There are hundreds a me, there cam be sfow others like : Veronica, «Ast Treaty cf os mia, db you ins hae anyone for the first ti @ would like ei An otta e e would admire you very’ much, . wW you wonld love ; pem: ‘i 2 said i Katherine eaw a light over t of ‘in ‘that “way Often won- if ever anyone would ee 1 they not love you home asked Katheriné, sur- é will hot talk of home.” wit the reply, nttered sadly. Gog are the first persom: in all the world who ever *T love you! - yet sorry,” said the English girl slowly. “Xo fie over her lips. been the first to'say to’ me, *T love than'in name. If the time ' “You are 'so| see with your eyes, I will hear with your ears. [shall You seem to _ ike a fairy princess. | to sleep happy, Ishall wake up happy, thinking to m magnificence; every- | that some one deems me beautiful, and wait upon ‘you seem|me. You have —- all my lite for me by your soak You have the sunshine ever on} ness.” irt’s natnral delight“in ‘being’ called | might have been’ angry and \vexed that as vely’ Then 6! her white fingers overs thre bowed come into’ your home—the very: heart of your ‘home as-it r ager so aye have never of one father. - like this.’ Tiwas tcame over Veronica's face; her eyes dark-| round m the first,” she said; ind becanse itr all | you see hair like that,’ she said, * always ray that : "1 \may be ruined by its own gold, ys pray that England to you—I will be true’ to you nntil’ deat the folly of its Mordodit oe by the greed of its sons and like to give you the sweet, soft Italian name—that for long rae ave never had but one thought, and that that was “= soon Heaven would let me die?” Katherine caressed the dark shining waves of hair. ** Such thoughts as those have brought all those mystical ible; | shadows into your eyes, Veronica; we must have no moreof ly love | them,” she: said. irl, “has asad kind of therine? Tell me what thank you, how to serve you. I will i ** Even my name,” remarked the to do for you, how to that some one ** I do not think it is goodness,” daich Katherine; me it issimply that I cannot help it.” « Ttmight have been different,’ rejoined Veronica. “* You should “ with were—you might have received me coolly, treated me mn- kindly, laughed at me even boeause of my strange dress and strange manners—but you have been an angel of of goodness va a For that,” she , with the sudden passion made her # bedutifal, * **L will give you my life stionld ayrtive always, - ‘love if -you. ye seem ale ‘al forme one of the prettiest of. pideares— hair, her dress of white silk, her shining je loving, bright’ manner, and the datk-cved) Venetian, with ‘need it, m the Friglish ein with 1 een bright, fair beau 1) bean- | her pale, passionate, matchless lovdlinsts, her black robes 60 uaint and pieturesqne, ti, as they talked longer, graduall ‘hanged 1¢)wal Weronien Shaw y, thay we * protector, and f ptr; the ‘younger sister. - — . Their lives had been so mnent; yet they werd ehiktren Veronica’s one wonder was th k » shi She never tired ‘of rial it; ne ining poi ir fingers, of praisi ** Do you know, = said to Katherine, “that once—oh, lo elt was peat an old Ne ore wall’ I saw a little of white pa I Setacttionni inside of it lay a bags ‘tress of shining almost frightened it seemed fingers as though it were living ~ hime aunt and showed it to her. “She RTeW so angry. Her words come back to my should | mind now as I hold this golden hair in my handa” SF hak ever come when, by laymg down my life, I can save yours,| “ They’ very horrible worda your I will do it. If the dine shld ber come pen "yaks sive Boel wicked t3 utter thenr What harm hed the Eng. Waa eboney: er ers myself save mn = her?” ? from . : rays “*T cannot tell, but she hated them. She was angry tha ine earnest, passi vont I wished to learn English; ; ah It aided oem she that when she hated i Tonia Tove tT thin nk Bangin do not know! I have been beautiful “Ont Venice is, perhapa, one of the taint nnt you ve been all my long solitary |on earth, but everything seems brighter and happier hoses”
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A GILDED SIN. $ **Papa,” said Katherine that same evening, “I fanc your ward Veronica, has been very unhappy all her life.” **T hope not,” he returned, quietly. **T feel sure of it. I have been contrasting her lot with mine. How spree it is, papa, that in this world things| are so kind.” have so much, ‘others so little. are so unequal! Some ” Verotiica seems to me to have had nothing. He made no reply, but he thought to himself that it was} showing emotion—yours startled me. Later | you like the roe on he drew Katherine’s golden head down and kissed her!when your b face hard, seeing that they were children of one father. “You will be kind to Veroniea, my dear?” he said. joyless life is hard to 2 ** Never do that in, child,” he’ said—‘‘ never again.” She glanced at him quickly, not understanding. How should she? : ; **Have I vexed you?” she asked. “I am sorry, for you se Why People are ‘unused to e am pleased that I shall be glad to ‘see you wear them ack dresses are laid aside.” By the middle of December Veronica was quite at home. “You have not vexed me, Veronica,” he said. should’ you have done so?” English “© A | How she loved Katherine! She had a strange, vague, undefined sentiment about Sir And Katherine obeyed him, because it was impossible to} Jasper—a feeling that even she herself could not under- know Veronica and not to love her. CHAPTER IV. stand. She was grateful to Lady Brandon; she would have done anything for her. ; But it was Katherine whom she loved—the beautiful, dainty, capricious young heiress—Katherine, who had been Berore two weeks had passed Veronica was quite at | the first to love her. home at Queen’s Chace. Lad upon the whole matter as a misfortune, now began to think otherwise. There was something almost pathetic in the way in which randon, who had at first been inclined to look|she followed her about and waited upon her. She would have served her almost on her knees. She watched her every look, waited for her every word... Lady She thought to herself that the next season she would be| Brandon was amused by it, Sir Jasper was pained. more popular than ever. She would be mother of one of She had been introduced to most’of their friends and the fairest blondes and chaperon of one of the most beautiful ii pa the beantiful Venetian girl whose face was a brunettes. study, whose voice was like musie, was admired by all who She saw that the two girls would never: be rivals, their | saw her. style differed se greatly, and she began to take great interest in Veronica. She went to her husband and told him that she must Fy was no jealousy, no rivalry bet apg blanche for Veronica’s wardrobe. “Tt_is icture; but our ward must dress lik she can have what money ** Certainly,” have told you. ng like one is quite a different matter. he must be treated as one;” and soon afterwards he placed in her hands a check for three hundred | came, ar j nds, ‘We can arrange later on,” he added, “about| had decided not to leave Queen’s Chace he had 1 allowance—at present purchase for her every-| the hand ng ‘ requires.” ros Nemeth in an Old Bete ts the of eraeee Venetion fashion; ar * usper wus As for Veronica herself, she could not understand such pala not meet his own, the sweet li her! Zi bojlas iiug Why do you do all this for me?” she asked. He looked down at her. dead Giulia’s love-lit e “ Lac gt he know more fhe took his hand Meee are very good to me, and I ait very grateful,” she ts He dead teck pale and trembling well,” said her ladyship, “to look like a/ young sister? fe other peepee. — Jasper. I right hy meg Sir Jasper, “she is an’ heiress, [| pier ae pede ee ee ing, except a ew picturesque resses that} that she wonid k would ‘nice curiosity shop.” | Tt was a pre ‘set to work at once: She knew too well | mas E aa be held the thousand little elegancies that make darling, thought you Tho gir] hived a woudering face to his when he showed ot What him with aut Hes yn antil you said *Y poh I am your guardian. Wiens and kissed it in her strange impulsive aon) our to him that Giulia’s lips had touched him. rae wife, Kate ?” She went with Katherine to all the balls, the soirees, the parties in the neighborhood, where they re th a 1eens. ‘them. How So Christmas came, and it was, as usnal, kept up in good English style at Queen's Chace. ery man, woman and child on the estate was the hap- its coming, and richer. ; Sir cn was most liberal. The friends he had invited nd amongst them was Alton, Lord W: who ld there be when “Veronica H mantra few days’ of hard siege the e conqu ra few rd siege; A had: plighted her troth tp” him, aid. be kx terra agi WARS love-story, coming to a crisis on Chi her under the am and dem: “Give me Somethix purchased was mude resque hs ®t ndeed a fayor, but T want a ae and Sir Ji ‘peased: gba bere ai at ab you waht P= ‘Aig’ ar {i Waly ‘«] want. your loye, your premise to be my wife, your ever and ever. What do you pane? master The sweet flushed Wale d oped Beleile er oem you are a peal! fies —that if ‘* But what, Alton ?” r peeiea tn My trust me; you auswer this time must have
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Sig de make me hep “ing face ‘Joys. Lord. Wynl had waited upon him to make his for- “kindly—-he had a great liking for the. gallant, handsome, young lover. pony, suitors. . L should tke her aan marry the one she loves best.” “*T know it, and am going to remedy it. Do not imagine iene 10 A, GILDED, SIN. «kissed the lips on which it trembled, murmuring words itis longer; and in the meantime he would have his will _ that were iia music to Katherine. ared—a will in which the truth should be told, and meen s Chace, with all the broad lands around Hurstwood, giyen to his daughter Veronica. At the same time he would put all the papers that went to prove her identity into one packet, and give them to her. Why, because her mother was dead, should he rob her of her birthright? What could he do to atone to her for, her long, cheer. youth, her cold, joyless life. He could not defraud Giulia’s child. If he could have divided the inheritance, all would have been well; but that was impossible. In the Brandon family, when there was no male, heir, the eldest daughter succeeded to the barony, to the title and estates;.and there as| had. been several, Baronesses, .. Therefore the ‘inheritanee must go to his eldest daughter. ‘That was Veronica. What would those proud Valdoraines—the ee peo- ple in England—say to him when they heard that Kath- erine was not his heivess/\after all?) Katherine Brandon’s name, was known. all over Hnelend. Sir Jee was at a loss. ‘His sense of justice and his love of right, his love and his pride, his honesty and his sensitive, reserve were all at war. There was but one gleam of comfort. The marri between Lord Wynleigh and Katherine would not take lege Pts Samia a oneeege 2 combination of circumstances might ace me PL: think so? “Well, there is one remark I must make. f It.is es quite the land. of n marriage ‘that I expected for ey 4 SAT ORARN worldly goods,’ you are certainly not the| Katherine,” said mei pos when her husband. = for ine elrgibie lover. her, toy er... £5 St no, 0 n—there *‘ Neyer mind that, Sir Jasper,” said Lord Wynleigh. |; fs Sorkattel you, know + Mia a esi “ What chance?” asked Sir Jasper. te to eapkes ‘< They ,tell me athe 0 nis is not only ve un- fe abs qi Pat she will fill them. t is sendy, se) that, he ‘ se: yin peliaing tl pa Te ie say, Give me me the hope of one daycalli Kath-| Lady Brandon. ‘* pate it P hacia be so then Alton. vate be evine my my, wife, and I will set. to work at once... will make Eat of W, Woodwyn,, That would be re ahgh position—I should a name that I shall ot, thawed ak ht osha be :satisfied,” Sir Jasbe aye dear wife,” remarked i mia ‘no good comes \ ie ou say * Yes,’ Tay y PP veately: Viner are ag my, daughter, ‘Toves of ho hoping for. dead. men’s shoes,” *“‘T shall work for you, Kate,” he said—‘‘my Ett the bonniest Kate in,Christendom.. I willnotask you to ay me until I have made a position worthy of your fath daughter, I have led a useless life, but it, shall be nseless ‘no, more. I will work for| you. Men shall neyer, say I married an heiress for, her money... Kate, on, sweet, love has made a man of me, To-morrow wi Christmas Day, and in the morning I shall go fo your fethey and tell him, . Will he give you to me, aa i “*T hope so,” she replied quie **He would do any: That was why Sir pate sat_on .Christmas morning the gay bells were ringing, with saddened eyes ‘and dar Ant ace, while "leg eart of the world beat high with mal request. toh ity danghter’s hand. Sir Jasper listened What am I to say to you, Wynleig ‘hi?’ My daughier has « That is myself Sir Jasper,” hé replied, proudly. Sir Jasper aniled. copie iye me your daughter now, at JO fed od ¥y . am not hopi for thei fd sid, Lady 'B Brandon; sot ie gan * fhe young. man replied, © ‘and a heyer se ares seine ptbat it ¢ won phy ‘sxe thing. for ft * ao 1938! oyarris ni eh? = Dit ion] rof* tot motion f meer In—oonewolls: ba : ve my ’ consent,” said | “te to ne ie a Sa just, es “ Veronica,” said Katherine, “come, to, my ieee. when ‘ane ack HI 4} you go to dress for dinner.) I want, to tell you tenaphoer _ And when’ Veronica, went i in she: started. at the. beauti ep meh ae To no ep ey that you Aiguld vision. _Katngrine stave, before her in alow Hanes sraset t twa dt yr Jasper,” he replied, ‘and ‘you ‘will her white Se a arms omy is a ree ge ig "ie Your. 10+! mond cross on her white breast Seong. ie aoten di her puEh Tee, HOT, golden hair... She looked. like.a dream of, beauty, Veroni aa my foo til pe Belch.” f the lad jadder,, ay ‘oil j 1 the pretty, cot vem the ni bie a rial tons 7 cease. (te ia i ** How beautiful you are, my darling!” she said. ‘* You vag air ee Hale ba in i. Jasper pel | HOOK: like te epiit 6 Christmas, News ‘see how:bedutiful otioatode fstening to I of. the ig Englishwomen can can be.?”’ tuft volicre otet se0d3 Yo orto Miiw apeeniae to the m ay and 1: % h, filled “Tam n always beautiful in your —, \oueroee she. ré- xt basteeban 105 ote .Toetos LOT They were standing side by side, Katherine all bright t Wag safer at hehe geten™ part 3t ne | an, ¥ if Dus @, Waa an d»radiaht Veronica,’ in. her) passionate in fran eit." What |” spnielolindeabes is bared ta : te a “trailing: blaek dress. ‘the contrast Between chem s eovoly x1oqqile bas #anI—tolio » 7 have. something: to ‘tell » vWeronich,? -she. ‘did. 3 | “Never” mind admiring! my stay dress; feapher mind» my §| diamonds—look at my face.” tise elon pipet , my darling,” sitehnale Verunidél ‘| Does a i of ert te asked Katherine, with, thie = fe Ngee Don “J Hi said; be om t lati ae ae sani tell zs * j iy th i oly the i, the nn i jil-srol e's Lp Ve aa ae lau hin, ips.’ a shonld you ‘ccibider he ve a hae ‘in'all'the world?” = wi Hae véry happiest of alt?” Oh, h Srebuld Peal? *” 4 Katherine | Bran ns a Yet pide iy Fh tid yet a Mies any Staak "ter mig,
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A GILDED SIN. 1 —not my fortune, not’ Queen’s Chace, but me—loves me— and has asked mite to be his wife.” 28 **His wife,” repeated Veronica, ‘softly. Katherine, the laughing-loving beauty, ‘was ‘suddenly invested with an importance in, her eyes which was marvelous. “‘How wonderfal—how strange!" | S53 _ Nay, it,is not. strange, Veronica. Toves me. Can you guess who he is?” ’ ef the dark eyes wandered over the bright face; and then Veronica answered— “It must be Lord Wynleigh.’’ ) _“* Yes,” said Katherine simply, “it is Lord Wynleigh; and T am ‘not one of the happiest, but ‘the happi st fo in all the world. ‘Nevertheless, I tell myself that stich great joy as miné cannot last—that a time will come when I must ‘suffer and weep and grieve as other people do. Will it be so?” She looked wistfully at. Veronica as she spoke. ‘I have read,” she said, ‘of ships safe enough to sail’ in when the sea is calm, but’ sure’to sink when the storm comes on. I. think I should be like one of those ships —I should go down in the first storm.” ** We will hope then that a storm will never come,” put in Veronica. ‘If it depended on me there never should,” she added. “Still there is one thing that I can safely promise you—one thing that I will do. If ever it lies in my power to save you from sorrow, I will do it; if ever it lies in my power to giye you happiness, I will give it to ou.” And the time came when the memory of those words weighed down the balance in which she held both lives. T love him—he CHAPTER V. - As Veronica descended the broad staircase she looked in astonishment at the brilliant scene that met her gaze on every side. e shining lights, the wealth of evergreens, holly with loyely, crimson berries, the graceful laurel with its shining leayes, the dark, stately fir and the sweet, mystical mistletoe —it was all like a dream to her. Her heart warmed as she If this was an English Christmas, then might Heaven bless Christmas for evermore ! Everyone had something kind to say; there was a smile on every face, light’ in kindly eyes, music in the sound of kindly voices. : ~ She thought that while she lived she would never forget the words, ‘I wish you a happy Christmas;” and the speakers, the kin e so tender and true of heart, | y were the cold, iGeortod Baghen who heraunt had told her were accursed! She looked at the noble faces of the men, faces that told of power and skill, of cou and self- command; she looked at the fair blonde faces of the lau ing girls and the graceful women ; and she thought that the lish were a great. people, greater than the old stately Venetians. There was not even a ~~ of envy in her heart as she noted. the lovely younger girls. She was quite unconscious of her own picturesque beauty, of the ical loveliness of her face, the grace of her figure clad in its trailing black robes. Among those fair pngtah irls she looked like a gor- us passion-flower in the midst of white lilies. She never oe i the Christmas dinner, her first in Eng- land—the grand tablé with its costly silver and delicate glass, the profusion of flowers and ‘fruits, the sparkling wines, the laughter, the general air of happiness, while ated the wind wailed among the leafless trees and the stars shone in. the Christmas ro She saw Katherine with her bright laughing face and her handsome young lover following her like a shadow. Presently Sir Saat came up to her. “Do you like our English way of keeping Christmas, Veronide? ” he asked. She looked at him. “«<Tt is more ‘beautifal than’ 'I have ever seen,” shé réplied; and'then he turned y away; forshe had looked at him with dead Ginlia’s eyes.) olor Se: yoonte ey - 4©Veroniea 1” said a low deep voice: «She turned: and ‘saw’ Lord Wynileigh’ standing’ by: her side: »‘‘ come’ to’ ask ° you “if Bhs are pleased. |: Walk) with . me through chen rosin ‘You have not wished mea happy Christmas yét.? 20 na ed binow stil Ti - ** Then T will do it now,” she said ;:and ,dbord: Wynleigh raised her hand to his lips. od binow tens scft f ‘‘Katherine has been telling me how! dearly she loves: you and how good youware to her.?000) toy beow apo 1% «I love her better than‘ anything or anyone:in the wide world,” she replied) "10 {xo Hiw I-23¢%0 Amid - He looked half sadly adtayD ib eat “al ole . have em he ~— oe ask: you: for a ert: ag that great affection which you give to:m — ‘ate. I will deserve it;:I will give you tlie! my on kindly affection of a brother to.asister.| Will you aceept it?” She looked upathim. | | sygev—wor ocuada **T am bewildered,” she'said. ‘‘ What:have Iydone ‘that Heaven should give me so much—what have I done? Only a few months since’ no one loved me, now——+?) so) ) “You accept’ it then?” interrupted Lord. Wynleigh, “Tf you want a friend you will come to me; if ever you want help of any kind, yow: will remember: that on Christmas Day you promised a stalwart brother to let him stand between you and the world.” —tivin tend ‘*T shall never forget,” she said. Dt And Lord Wynleigh left her standing by the door of the conservatory while he went in ‘search of. Ime; fox81601 1 Veronica Norte Bo! Ee gray, dull life such threads of gold were woven that she was dazzled by them. ‘She hun and thirsted for love; now it was lavished upon her. She stood on the samé spot still, un- hi ru niekly have Olt conscious of her p e loveliness, watching Katherine and her lover, and as she watched them ge, sweet pos- sibilities of life came floating to hey. ‘She had thought of herself so long and so often as one apart from others, asione for whom life held no pleasures, no hopés; now ‘was. the dawn of a golden morning, now the sweet, vague, delicious fancies that thrill the heart of a young git) thrilled her. It might be that in the golden far-off future such loye, as Alton’s for Katherine would fall to her lot. Perhaps. her life too, would be crowned by that most pure and. perfect i . a noble love. If Heaven had such happiness in’ store or her—— zi} ag tigt os soiag¥ ‘‘T am afraid,” said a deep musical voice near her, “‘ that ou will take cold—there is quite a rush of cold air here.” Veronica looked up suddenly. A tall, stately figure stood oo her and the light, dark gray eyes were looking into er own. Ofrenda Saabs She saw a handsome, noble face,a proud, princely head covered with clusters of fair hair. It was a face. that from that moment stood out clear and distinct from ally other ‘The gentleman smiled at the half bewildered expression of the dark eyes.» Ae-tihgin aarw ; J must introduce myself again,” he said. ‘* Sir Jasper introduced me to you just before «dinner; but Iwas’ one of so many, I eannot hope to have been noticed. You do not remember me?” morta hi ‘“‘No,” she replied. ‘Sir Jasper introduced so many people to me at once, and Ex “names are hard to re- member. I should be glad if you would tell me yours,” she added, with some little hesitation. sist W belies “< You will say that it-is a strange one perhaps,” he said. T am Sir Mare Caryll.” 53 ‘Sir Mare Caryll,” she repeated. ‘I shall remember pee in connection with the patron-saint of Venice—St. k.” She could not tell why, but the name seemed to sink into the depths of her heart like the echo of a song. Then she looked at him, and decided that, although she had seen some noble men, he was by far the handsomest and noblest. est,,frank, .
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ang = a : A GILDED SIN. There was amait 6f command, of power, of authority about him which pleased her. He looked like. a man whose. will was strong and relentless, whose p ear ae was clear and decided. f-reliance, courage, was fixed, whose | ful face droo “‘ What is that ? ” asked Veronica. «That is English for a wife,” he replied; and the beauti- before his, Her heart beat; a strange pain, that was yet half pleasure, those qualities were written on that fair, hand-| seemed to thrill her innocent soul. some that had in it at times a woman’s. sweetness and “‘T must leave you,” she said hurriedly. . “I am quite the simplicity of a child. A sudden thought, came to. her sure that Katherine wants me.” that a life would be safe in those strong hands of his— ““Where you go I follow,” declared Sir Marc; and for honor, fair fame, everything might be entrusted | to him, | that evening at least he kept his word. and. the trust would be kept. Marc smiled at her. *«T can read your thoughts,” he said; \‘* estimating my character. I will not -ask on what) you think of it; I will only say I hope your —— usions. are .fa- vorable, Miss di C eres and an example has. been por ae you. aye been : CHAPTER VI. A xEWw life—a glorious new life, bright hepettl leasant, full of > fall of wonder and roma ‘ Pleat time tha, try one dance, with me. Christ- | came when \ eronica What to wonder What it (a that had fallen oyer her pe t was the dazzling light that had Veronica remembered that ee epee was’ the | fallen at her ing of a new life to her. e, sweet possi- biliti oa tied hind "tilled shor sa chaiowetch “Why was it ate from morning to night and from night Seaineneperion took | to Berane Abe had, but one ‘capnghk rand that was about amg now—vague, beautiful shape; something awoke-in | Marc Cary. her heart which had’ never been there before—something so tender, so'sweet, that the girl’s whole soul was moved by. it. Life was never to be the same for her; she.had ct mw ad reer of the quick love and quick hatred that She had.in. her more of her fat’ natas nature: Slee her; mother’s. « Your face is a poem,” said Sir Mare later on that same Christmas night—“‘ a poem! that I shold, never tire of neds in, "ike derided with ito, she talleéd’ to bins, more, wk one amos followed them—she with her dark Venetian beauty, he with his Saxon,comeliness; they seemed. .to-have forgotten the world. Once Sir Mare took her to. the, great western window im the -broad. eotridion, and, drawing | Aside the han he said.to her?) out an di oradhiae at want | rou. io see. the poctry 8 ie Sanaietnaaat Semmes taaiedardodbun: » Re eran fmt deep, dark, fathomless. Dinas the :moon swiss full, and ‘shone with a clear, Benton me t; By eared lay peice still, and. beautiful, unde the hard’ frost made. the. tall, leafless = Jook | darker, pa the hoar-frost shone im the light of the moon. The wind’ wailed amongst the trees, bending: their. tall, heads and swa the huge branches. »* How beautiful!” she cried. Venice so fair as this. I thought there was no_ poetry in a aees but itis fullof it. This looks like, owereg ? will try to.love England,” he said. /»“Tdo» love it without trying,” she replied... I,eould there was some) m ions reason why my heart should have warmed so greatly to it; it seems more | “iY home than Venice:ever did.” . é was looking inténtly at her with his dark. gray.cye. |. ** You will not wish to return to Venice then?, You would be content to remain in England all your life?” ’ She raised her beantiful face; the dark. spon lookedsgtithe "ial wintry night-sky, at the fair white earth,, at the poe ows the moon the trees; Pras she turned to Sir Marc. aetTVenibe would seem a prison to meiatter. this,” she anid: and as she said it she wondered why he looked .so bright and fn 7 : : yf S sould like you to see my Home,” he remarked. is, I think, even more beantiful wiled Wervehurst Manor, and it stands in the loveliest _of Sussex. We-have music there—nature’s grandest. “ sea lies at no distance; and far away |to the, stretches a chain of hills, purple hills on winch the. light af not a man. of the sun lies low. I have: passionate love for. my home,” She was silent. He went on: ** And I live there, Miss di: imagine that? I have no no sister. ‘“ There’s: nothing in all don; ‘ ‘It eine othe shad ae 1 finish and. ele than Queen’s Chaee. It.is |ean ‘be acqui ¢ Was away. , all alone. fianeyod August, and wou There is a| there; to which Sir J. *Christmvas had passed now, and the beautiful epting had set-in... The air, was balmy with the sweet lower. yt Sir Jasper had not recovered much of Ms The doctors,would not allow him to return to his .duties;,.he must rest if he wonld, live. In vain the active,, energetic statesman. rebelled. He refused for a time to submit, until he saw the absolute necessi at it. Then he found Lord Wynleigh of great use to. He had. heen 1 fa gti as member for Hurstwood, and bad made. his —toeverybody’s great surprise it was simply a cotaaice of eloquence. Sir Jasper gave up some of his duties to the young” politician, about whom — poomenes great/things. |. onet was; very; pleased, . , . [t,had always been a source of. sorrow to him that he é had no son to succeed to his honors; but he loved’ «Boba ei nel in whom all Katherine’s. Thappings seémed despon came to ‘him, he said to him- self that he sh msvaeah ily en “He insisted" u - clear Lady a oe go s taking Veronica and Katherine to Londo for part of the season, at least, and nothing pleased him better than to read her ladyship’s Sie in which she told of, Vs eronica’s Successes and ie “ The girl, can marry ary ae ee wrote Lady Bran- ‘her magnificent beauty ‘has brought. all ‘London to cher feet. She de doesnot seem to care about anyone in par- ticular,” crt jeronica had pin te woe become famous. Her raré ‘style j of face, and er a ee P grace and musical voice, e Mente edofa She . received. — idan ML tard than she. could possibly accept... Everyone admired and liked her. ‘But, when yea pEndap had been in town a few weeks, |e, decided? upon returning. , Sir Jasper was no better, and the doctor ‘attending him did not, think it;advisable that he should delay consulting — oral porecinn. a, 63 Teck sake tal be they went home again, and as he loo at ° hters, the master Pon een’s Chace was struck afresh. Katherine’s animated loveliness, and Veronica’s pale beauty a to have acquired fresh luster. hose few peli in town had Lisp yeiiasdh hay «tied Ver- r such as the Loot refined, She had enjoyed ior tint per much, becanse oF Mare "The season: had. but little attraction for him.’ He was fashion. A cruise to Norway had more oes for him. pee poy in London. He had written to say. that he ho ‘prongh Hurstwood in Jn 4 very y much like fo spend a few replied by sending ines a large household of servants, bat i am avin solitary. I| most cordial ah ene ated shrewdly what wal ‘the at- ‘want what the poets call an angel in the house. traction; so that Veronica had that to look forward to, and ou
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A GILDED SIN. ee the knowledge of it made her profoundly indifferent to. all the ho offered her. The old bitter struggle was still going on in Sir Jasper’s mind. What should he do? mark ““You haye learned to love Katherine, Veronica?” he said pently. “‘ Better than I love my life,” she said, blushing to find that she no longer said, ‘‘ Better than I love anyone else _. Histheart was torn with a thousand doubts, a thousand |in the world.” fears. There was hardly an hour of the twenty-four durin = he did not again and again review all his reasons an oubts. Do as he would, one or. the: other must suffer.. Should it be Katherine, the bright fair child, the descendant. of the d Valdoraines; or Veronica, who looked up at him with Ginlia’s eyes? Which of the two should it be? He would have given his life to save either. One thing he had done. He had sent for a strange law- yer, and had made another will, in which he told the seeret of Veronica’s birth, and left to her. the grand inheritance of Queen’s Chace and Hurstwood. That will he kept by him. ee en he was more at ease whenever he thought of her. He grew worse. The doctors didnot apprehend any im- mediate danger; he was only’ suffering from overtaxed st h, from ills that might be remedied.’ He did not even keep his room. AIO, f Sir Jasper himself was more alarmed than the people about him: Strange sensations came to him. There were times when he fancied, as he walked through the shady en-paths, that strange yoices'calléd him; he saw strange gures in his troubled sleep, strange faces smiled at him from the picture-frames. °°) 9 One day—how, Veronica remembered it afterwards!—he had. walked in the grounds, and when the sun grew warm he went into the drawing-room ‘to rest’on a ¢ouch. Ver- onica was there. He asked-her to read to him, and she did so until he fell asleep; then she sat and watched him, think- ing how very ill he looked, how white and ‘sunken his face was. ~~ Suddenly she saw his pale lips quiver; He opened his arms as thotigh to clasp them round someone. whom he loved, pie a passionate voice: “* Giulia, Giulia, my heart’s love!” - She touched him gently, and his eyes opened and looked wildly at her. ; *‘ Giulia,” he cried again, “‘where am I? It is you, and yet another.” . OTe i ” . , . ‘“c : ay y b “ Sir Jasper,” said Veronica, “you /are dreaming—you are ill. He looked in bewilderment at her. |" « Ginlia’s eyes,” he said, “but another face, What does Sees fore ee BE , _ ~~ ¥ou have been dreaming,” remarked the girl quietly. “Can I get anything for you? Shall 1 beng y Brandon?” " He gave a smothered moan. —you are right, Veronica—I was dreaming. ‘No, do not’ anyone; I want nothing. These June days are} so warm.” It was June then, when the days were at their longest, and the bright sweet hours Were all’ filled with beauty— June, when Queen’s Chace was a picture of loveliness, with its lilies and roses, its rich green foliage and wealth of flowers. Veronica was troubled as she looked ‘at Sir Jasper, for she had grown to love him.» “dhe remembered afterwards how he awoke from a fevered sleep and would haye Katherine by Veronica’s side. She remembered every detail of that, his last day on earth. He would not go into the dining-room,and it was Veronica, by her own special request, who took him some little dainties and coaxed him to eat them, ae knelt by his side, holding in her fingers a ripe sunny eee This is just. like Katherine’s cheek,” she said laugh- ingly. And she looked so, like, her. mother at that moment that he could have cried aloud in his longing love and pain. | heart—I feel faint—it will pass away. i physician in England.” He looked up at her.suddenly. ‘‘ Haye you learnt to love me, Veronica?” he asked. ** Yes, Just as dearly,” she replied. Then they were silent—he mute with emotion, she won- dering that he should speak to, her in this strain—he who had always been so distant and so reserved. Then he was restless all the day. When evening came, he Katherine to sing all her old songs to him—the songs he loved best; and. Veronica fancied that his eyes filled with tears. Then, when it was growing later, he called Katherine to him. She knelt down by his side, and he drew her golden head down on to his breast. “¢ y child, my darling,” he said, “‘haye I been kind to you?” ** Always, papa,” she replied. saan you had a happy life—Katie, tell me—a happy aa ““ Yes,” she answered. ‘‘ Papa, you know that I have never had one moment’s care or trouble, one moment’s sad- ness, ever since I was a child.” ‘‘Thank Heaven for that!” he said gently. “If I shonld ; die, Katie—die and leave you—would _ anyone ever make you think me unkind—eyer make you. love me less?” i Wi See “No, never, papa,” she said, langhing at tlie notion= “ never.” ste PRR or ‘Kiss me. . Tell me you Joye me,” he said. _‘ Will you remember in the after years that.l would haye given my life at any time to saye.you from. DAIS coat 1 cinde aa “Yes,” replied Katherine, and, obeying his wish, she cieaped her tender arms around his neck, ‘‘ I love you very dearly, papa,” she said, “more than I can tell you, and I am longing for the day to come, When you will be strong and well again.” 1 at ; ah Later still, when Katherine was. going to her room, he called her to him, and taking the bright young face between his hands, he kissed it. ; an “Good-night, my darling,” he said; ‘‘and may Heayen eyer bless you!” + we eae , She wondered at the solemnity of the words, little dream- ing that she had heard his voice for the last time, . é ‘You are not quite so well to-night, Jasper,” said Lady randon, Boner ats “No,” he replied. * There is a strs Re fluttering at my ‘The day has so very warm.” = cae Tt was a lovely June night, one o never seem to grow dark; the air was rich and heavy with the odor of the sleeping flowers,,the dew lay on the white lilies, on the roses, on the purple passion-flowers, the wind stirred ever so faintly the fresh gréen leaves. It was one of those nights when it seemed impossible to turn from the sweet face of nature. A Veronica had stood for more than an hour at the open window of her room, when one of the servants came to say that she was wanted in Sir Jasper’s room. _ ‘Ts Sir Jasper worse?” asked Veronica in alarm, “The valet said he seemed very ill, miss,” replied the girl; ‘‘ but there was nothing said about his being worse.” Without loss of time Veronica left her‘room. She had not undressed. She still wore her evening-dress of rich black lace with crimson flowers, She had taken the diamond stars ‘from her hair, and the black waves fell in rich profusion over her shoulders. On her neck gleamed a cross of rubies and diamonds. She walked through the long corridors, where the moonlight lay those nights that
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14 A GILDED SIN. great silver floods, making everything élse darker by con- trast. a ; 2 ents Sir Jasper could not be worse, she thought} the servants : GD: Were most of them in bed, and there was noconfusion. She] ‘‘ You love me, Veronica—you forgive me?”” “ went to the door of his room—a room she had “never]>0** Idoveyous' and Dhavenbothing to forgive., ‘See; fatlier, entered. It was ajar, and Lady Brandon stood ‘near it. | I:kissyow again?! 0) \o 1 3 2 aes, She looked very ‘pale and ‘anxious. She had ‘on’ # white} »°Then Sir Jasper took twos packets from: wnder his ipil- dressing-gown, and was toying nervously ‘with. the blue low. 2idyo! ribbons. pe co Soe | os Phere is'another thing yet: tobe told,” he: said; ‘and "- “T do not understand it, Veronica,” she whispered, ** Sir | this} :miy eas Marie, L ‘know: you -will ofeelo» Icfeelit-amy- Jasper has sent for you and for me—he wants us particu-| self; but I‘camiot—TI dare not die until 1 have don¢ justice larly, No one else is to come near. He looks so'strange | to Giulia’s child.» It isthe) law 6f our )race—one ‘that am half frightened. “Come in.” ee nag 7 “|I have neither the.:pdwer) nor thé right:to ch ~ Veronica entered the stateman’s chamber. ‘It’ was a lane failing a male heir, the eldest daughter shall succeed., You, and magnificently-furnished apartment. “She saw wonders| Veronica Brandon, are my eldest daughter, so, you are my of rosewood and buhl, Sevres china, statuettes, pictures, and | heiress—the /heiness,of | Queen’s ‘Chace and; the,domain of books. On the bed with its silken hanging’ ‘she’ sdw Sir] Hurstwoody? oi) (oy ted’ fo H be id’) & Jasper—Sir J . with a grave look on his face and dark|),/‘‘'That. ¢annot.be,”, cried, Lady .Brandon—* that, is too shadows round his eyes. She went up to him, and his eyés, | cruel; it will kill Katherine.” ' looking into hers, told her that’ some strange; unreyealed | -»:‘‘ Lope. not,” -he said, faintly, ..“‘It is .crnel—Heayen secret was between them. ; 2 knows. feel. it to. beso; but it must, be done.” *« Close the door,” he said—“ fasten it securely; no one]; Lady Brandon ;had,,drawn'-her hand from. his feeble must interrupt me. Marie, my wife, comehere. It is you|clasp ; her face flushed hotly; her eyes were full of angry who will have to forgive me. I have sinned against you; fire, Ly jemslity Gedeiehiiate thee ol Te ) , but my sin always appeared to me in 9 better light than that] “ ly ebild_ shall not. be robbed,” she cried. ‘‘ Twill in which I see it now. ‘It isa gilded sin—a sin so shrouded to all England, , It shall not be,” wy with sentiment, reserve, poetry, sensitiveness, that I hardly know where the wrong begins or ends—a gilded sin, may ‘‘eShe laid “her fair faceén' his, half frightened ‘at its deathly chill. ei: caper ‘%€My father—my déar father?’ she said. “All agian could not prevent it, Marie,” he said sadly... ‘* My eldest daughter must be my heiress; after my r Marie, and the punishment will fall on an innocenit| death she becomes Baroness Brandon, 1 am quite power- Veronica, come nearer to me. “I ‘have sent for you| less inthe matter.” : —lI have a story to tell. Kneel here where I may see your]. ‘‘It is wickedly unjust,” she cried, ‘I wonder at you, face. Keep those eyes—dead Giulia’s eyes—fixed on ‘me to| Sir Jasper—you who. all your life have passed for an hon- the last, that Fs es. and my courage may not fail me. | orable man. .You must not, you shall not do my child Marie, whom I have wronged, give me your hand—I have a| this wrong.” ; Beebe to tell you.” . ‘* Hush, Marie!” he said mals Do not reproach me, he ni Sain p was partly shaded; its feeble rays fell on| my dear; I have suffered enough. Listen, Veronica. This the gry , on the wistful eyes, on the thin white] is my will; in it you will find pepested the story of my first hands—fell on the two kneeling figures, on Veronica’s| marriage—in it you wall find that I have made you what beautiful face and Lady Brandon’s troubled features. ou are—my heiress. I have made handsome provision for The wind, when it stirred, sent a great spray of clematis vi y of atherine—handsome provision, Marie, for you. beating against the glass; outside ‘the beautiful, solemn] . “You haye robbed us!” cried Brandon, _‘‘ What summer night lay brooding over the fair sleeping earth. | am I to say to my friends when they hear of this?” , Sir Jasper told his story, clearly, plainly, distinctly, de-| The Baronet continued: 2 scribing his motives, blaming his own fastidious, sensitive} ‘‘ This second parcel, Veronica, contains all the papers reserve, blaming his own weakness and folly, which had led] you will need to prove your identity—the certi of him so far wrong—led him into what he truly called “‘a|your mother’s birth, marriage and death. There is the gilded sin.” y Marie listened with silent, bitter tears. | certificate of your birth also, and every other paper which 80 you were married before, Jasper, and never told me,” your aunt Assunta thought necessary to prove your claim. |; ‘and I always thought that I was the only one|Take them, Veronica. Kiss me, my daughter; myatrength you loved. How could you deceive me?” — 4. _ fais mp. Sronieg 38 one ne in your mother’s name— _. “Tam sorry, Marie, for the .. Lean h exp me ‘you promise, Veronica?” tom Varah? joa te dutersiond can bahthy acabebeaat myself, an ith = white lips on his, which were no less white, so difficult looking back. I loved her so well, and’‘I lost| she whispered: her so soon. I could never speak of her, my dear dead], “‘Ipromise.”.... . 1- aia Ae : Ginlia, _ I could not utter her name—it tore my heart.. I}.,.“‘ Be kind to my wife and Katherine,” hesaid. “‘ Promise could not look men and women in the face while I talked] me.” : of her, my dead love.” | OTT. will,” she replied. Then,.she, raised her head, for a “Then,” said Lady Brandon, “you have always loved | long guivormng sigh from him frightened her. her best, Jasper, living er dead—always the best.” ~ “Go, and , Katherine,” he said—‘‘ Kate—my own _. **You have been a Ba true, tender, faithful’ wife to| Kate.” ). if 2 ‘atk. Fade me, Marie,” he returned, ** but she was my first love.” _ Are you worse, Jasper?” cried’ Lady Brandon, forget- _ Veronica had listened like one in a dream, This was her] ting her anger in her fear, reg history then; and the golden-haired sister whom Assunta] i smile, that. Veronica never forgot came over his face as had never ceased to mourn was her own mother! he turned to her. She was the daughter of the famous statesman, Sir Jasper|_ ‘‘ No, not, worse—better,” he said... “I gee. it all now.” amet. who was looking with such wistful eyes into her| And the next moment he was dead. ¥ . _. |. The two horrified | ors stood looking at each other, “You are my own child, Veronica,” he said, while Lady} unable to move. a Brandon eried out: Brandon wept as one who could not be comforted—“my| ‘He is dead—he is dead, Veronica!” : own daughter—dead Giulia’s child! I have longed so often| - Then £oing up to the bewildered girl, she seized both to take you in my arms and tell you so. I did not love| her han “ fay ; } you when evil rit whispered ‘to me that. you had cost} “‘ Veronica,” she cried, *“hide these papers. Promise me, your mother her life; but I have learned to love you since| swear to me that you will not mention one word of all this you have been here, my daughter. Kiss me, Veronica. | until I have spoken to you again. Swear it.” iss Say ‘Pather! to me just once. “I promise,” said Veronica.
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A GILDED SIN. 15 -» And; then. Lady; Brandon seized the bell-rope and) rang a hasty peal. ... yow Yous oe ORAPTER vit ° . By the noon of the: following) day, peace and quietness rei in:the house: of death; the passionate weeping and walling, the first-wild outbreak df sorrow, were over. | The doctors who had: been. summoned in:such: hot, haste had iven their decision—Sir Jasper had:died of:disease of the eet: There was no need ‘whatever ‘for the formality of an inquiry—no need for examination. They had laid the illust¥ions statesman—the man. whose heart had been’faithful to.one passionate love—in state in his own chamber, with hangings of black velvet. and wax tapers, ‘and the fairest: Juhe flowers about him whose hands should never more gather leaf: or blossom; and then. with lingering looks at: the marble face, so..grand in its seul tured beauty, they had:left:him to the silence that) shou never more be brokeni) | ibn Veronica'sat in héer‘own room, a pretty room that open on to the western terrace—a room where she had all. her books, her’ easel, her piano—where she spent, happy. hours in study'and reading. It was: half parlor, half boudoir,.as pretty as it could be made by taste, by art, and by affection. It was.dark and gloomy now, with the blinds drawn and the flowers:all dead. Veronica sat‘ there’ silent; dazed, bewildered.;, She. still wore her évening-dress of black lace—she had never changed it; her dark hair hung over her. shoulders, the, beautiful face with ‘its | passionate sorrow, its untold story, was. pale and worn, her eyes looked brighter and darker... / .: What’ had she not suffered sitting there—what emotion, what bitter pam, what untold woe?) «:\; | ‘s His daughter!” these words—‘** His daughter.” oben The proud,’ noble ‘statésman! whom all England revered was her father.» ai bis— DE lites 3 1994 913 90d a Oh, if she could but have known it before! If shethad but had time to pout out the:passionate love of her heart to him!) yebs Lis vibe ; WA If there had but’ beeny time “to tell him how prowdjand stat asdeaatedne valued: her birth-right;' how :she, re- joiced in the knowledge ‘that he wasiher father!) 1:9. So many things were clear. to-hermow.. She had never onde his strange manner towards her, half love, half aveidance” 4!" :aobaetd ybad boi “ { Reid 340 bad boi ** aq {eiaA* One thing after another unveiled itself, so that she.almost wondered at last that she had not _— the secret... / And she was Veronica Brandon; heiress of Queen’s Chace. She repeated the name over and over again to herself+- * Veronica Brandon”’—and each time she hked it better. She was heiress of the. ‘mansion, of the fair domain, of the broad lands, of all the wonders of wealth she saw aroutid her+-she who had never known the luxury of haying one shilling to:spend bn mt 19 d 63 doand tasw widow’ olidw It was no great wonder if her heart beat and every nerve thrilled with the sudden sensé of power and wealth. | / Henceforward she could do as she liked+she could make everyone happy, she could lavish wealth .ow the things;she Toxedl best} could do untold goodie (ito ts A She was roused from her reverie by the éntrance of Lady Brandon TrtOH 1? tact? fi] : ’ ld , oeias S15 IMeRIANU TMS Isil Of Jon in, Looking at her, Veronica realized what she had suffered | , dark circles round the 3 2cher face’! was quite white; with eyes. ated iat eodtat-ted yeiv ts Beonigqasl 3 She had’ wept almost “incessantly » since her) husband’s death, but now she seemed:calm with theealmness of despair. She closed the'@oor, and,’ oor 4 up sto: Veronica, took the rs cold’ hands im her own looked: earnestly into her oe barb oda litue wou adinyD ib asinow ¥ od binow “Veronica,” she said, “have yow ry heres scart 8,1 T oSPhe your -paised her-head:prondly. )- “Did you think that I should betray ee she asked«:. {I 4m ribtes traitor, Lady Brandon.” ': Pisot fou bl # 4d 7) She came back. again, and. again: to death Veronica, Iam almost mad. , You cannot realize wha’ have to suffer—you cannot understand my position. I wonld, pam bad are not wild words, but. true ones—I would rather kill myself, than that the world should know how cruelly I have been deceived—that I had but the ashes of my husband’s loye, that he never cared for me, that his heart had been given to, another, before me, I could not bear it—I could not suryive such a downfall to my pride my affection, my standing and position in the world—t should not survive it,” . fry ; ‘Tam very sorry,” said Veronica; ‘‘I cannot, help; it, Lady Brandon; it is not my fault, you know.” erase ‘“* Think, too, of Katherine, my peek child, brought apps her. father’s heiress, All her life she has deemed her- self heiress. of Queen’s, Chace—her future, secure. Oh, Veronica, think what a blow it will proye for her! It will killher!” And the poor lady’s lips quivered again. ‘‘ Then,” she continued, ‘‘ you donot, know my people, the Valdo- raines.,Theyyare the proudest; people in England; they would—I dare not think what they wine or do when they hear that my child isdisinherited.; I shall never look them in the face again. ..I wish I had died before this day came.” f ‘c I .am. yery .grieved,” said Veronica, “but I cannot elp it.” Ries! ‘* Poor Katherine—so happy, in her future! They called ‘*I. know—I know; forgive me for speaking hastily. i i nothing. to, deserve it, . All my. life I was good and faithful to ae shame. 0 deed! . hen hte Until:now she has never had -SOrrow, an | Ora maather, foto hae aad pute care. eyery, ib mag cs (16 % Wott vt T) ik fuses g/t road _»SXon/forget;that she has, Lord Wynleigh,” said Veron; 8 4 AbLY, J dT’ bil oe ee with her fortune. . Oh, Veronic ret lity, Joye wi ne. , Oh, Veronica, I can- heen bis ‘She drew, ne ny her. -{f You love. her, Vasonittt edt know you do, times. “You said—see, I remember the words—you wou give your life for her if she needed it, beeause she was aa ry sorrow, that an arrow m first of al ne e said .| {-Yes, and I meantyit,” she acknowledged. ‘<Will.you ve. her posiy k , : li . brigh i { gra en boris bi ben: #5 OB.DAA she answe ota —burn it, and keep Veromios drew back ple and trembling. 45, 0. Burn; the will!” she, repeated faintly. “Yon conno eee Renin i NSE Sh i
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16 A GILDED SIN. wildered; no such idea had occurred to her. ‘* Burn the will!” she said again. ‘‘ Ol, Lady ‘Bratidon, how can I?” ** You can do it easily enough if wish—if you will,” declared Lady Branton. <‘“Who knows of it except ‘you und me? Noone. Who knows the secret save you and me? Noone. Oh, Veronica, if you would be true to your promise, true to your word, burn the will and forget it!” ‘« But that would be to disobey the wishes of the dead,” said Veronica. “It seems to me I'am not my own mistress. My—my father’s commands, his wishes—surely I must obey them; surely I must carry out all his plans?” Lady Brandon stood before her erect, her face eloquent with the passion of her words. “Veronica, make no scruples, raige no doubts: Are you capable of this great sacrifice for Katherine’s sake, for her love’s sake? It is much to ask, I know. Have you the nerosity, the nobility, the grandeur of soul to make it? ou said you would die for her, my fair-haired darling. Would you give life, yet withhold this?” “<I am bewildered,” replied Veronica. how to answer you.” “Come with me,” said Lady Brandon. ‘Step lightly, Veronica, my darling is asleep. Come with me.” And the two ladies passed out of Veronica’s pretty room together. Brandon led the way to Katherine’s room; she dined. the door gently and they entered together. Katherine had exhansted herself with weeping. Her father’s death was the first trouble of her life, the first cloud that had ever darkened her sky, the first sorrow that had brought burning tears to her eyes. ; She had exhausted herself with weeping, and then she had thrown herself on the pretty white and was sleep- ing the sleep of utter weariness. er golden hair lay. in picturesque disorder over the pillows, one white rounded arm was thrown above her head —even in profound slumber her lips quivered and deep sobs **Tdo not know came from them. She was too exhausted for any sound to reach her now. Lady Brandon took Veronica’s hand and led her to the bedside. ; ** Look,” she said—*‘ Veronica, see how young and fair she is; see how innocent and helpless. Think how she has been loved and cherished.. Do not throw her on the mer- cies of a cold world. ‘Think of her life; do not blight it. Think of her love; do not take it from her. Veronica, if above this tender white breast yon saw a sword hanging, on would not let it fall. iy saw a hand clutehing a agai and inting it at tender heart, you. would thrust it aside. Look at her, Veronica, so unconscious of this iregedy. Will you wake her to tell her that you are joing to take her inheritance, her fortune, ‘her happiness—- 8 even her love from her?” ~ Veronica turned away with a shudder. “Come with me again,” said Lady Bratid@on—and this time she led the way to the room where the dead statesman lay. : She closed the door, and, holding Veronica’s hand tight! she led ‘her to his’side. aid nef in her own, _ *T have brought you into the solemn presence of the dead. | Ji He who lies there called this sin of his a gilded sin. Ver- onica, he did not foresee, he could not know, the suffering anil the sorrow that would fall upon us. '° Oh, Veronica, is it just? Is it fair? Isit right? Why should thisdi ‘all now upon me? Have I deserved it? Is it honorable that we should so suddenly be 0 ape, of our own—our tion, our inheritance, all that life holds most dear? id its love him, Veronica, this dear dead father?” “Yes,” she replied. It seemed to Veronica that all power of speech had ‘left her—that she could not utter the ‘words that rose to her li J : ee You did love him; then him, You could do no- ing so hurtful to his memory as to let this secret be known. All England reveres bim now, all England dues homage to Soe him. He is numberdd amongst the t ones of the na- tion. Oh, Veronica, how they would denounce him, those who have loved him best, if they knew that in very truth he had left his wife and.child,.to, bear the brunt and the burden of his concealment! ‘They would blame where they have praised. You will take a hero from his pedestal. You will shadow a grand memory, detract from a fair fame, if you tell his secret. And you will gain—what? »A for- tune that you will never cmt cee inheritance that will prove more of a curse than a ing, an inheritance that — , be almost a fraud. Veronica, burn that cruel will.” “‘ But others must know of it,” she said. ‘“No,” ‘asserted Lady Brandon; “the lawyer who drew up that will is dead—dead, I tell yon. I remember that Sir Jasper went to a strange lawyer whose name was Mathews, and that some days afterwards he said that a strange thing had happened. He had asked Mathews to attend to some little business for him, and a few days after- wards he had died suddenly. I remember it so well. - One never misses much what one has never had, Veronica. You have never been considered or treated as the heiress of Queen’s Chace. You would not miss the distinction. But Katherine has.. Katherine has grown up with the thought; it has formed part of her life. ty dear, I plead to you, I pray to you—burn that will. For Katherine’s sake, by your ove for her, by your promise to shield her, for your dead father’s sake, save his name from rude comment, to shield his memory from all stain of reproach, I, your father’s widow—I, therine’s mother—kneel to you—tI beg of you to grant what I ask!”’—and Lady Brandon knelt before Veronica with outstretched hands. “Veronica rose, sublime in her emotion; a light that did not seem to be of this world shone on her For your dead ‘father’s sake, Veronica!” sobbed Lady | Brandon. | “Twill doit,” she replied. ‘*1 will barn the will, and I will keep the secret until I die—and in death I will keep it still. Lady Brandon rose and drew the girl to her father’s side. “* Swear it here,” she said; ‘‘lay your hands on his breast —above his heart here. Now swear to me that you will never take Katherine’s inheritance from her—that you will never lay claim to it—that you will never betray the secret of your birth and ps 7 : eronica swore it. : ‘‘ Kiss his lips,” cried Lady Brandon; “ they would open | to-bless you if they could.” Veronica kissed his lips. 5 “Tt will lie’ between us, father,” she said, ‘‘ this secret of ours.” Then she started up in alarm. The struggle had too much for Lady Brandon—she had fallen to the ground. The servants who came to her help thought she wasill from grief; and they bore her with pitying words toher chamber, ~ while Veronica went back to her room like,one moving in a trance. © heed tad 3 Oy Not for long had she been heiress of Queen’s Chace—not for long had she called: herself Veronica Brandon, Sir ; : asper’s hter. | Harve uZsy All the nobler, higher, better'part of her nature had been roused by Lady Brandon’s. te RUG ear os sacrifice would She forgot in her enthusiasm al] that the She remembered only that she was securing Katherine’s iness and saving her father’s fair name. sat quite still and silent, while the birds sang out- '|gide her window, and the sunlight brightened the whole : eee glad world—hew She reflected that dream was over, that she would be Veronica di Cyntha now until she died. Then she roused herself. The will must be burned before she saw Lady Brandon again. “< She would not read it. That would simply renew her
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A GILDED. SIN. 17 paim and’ could ‘not benefit her. She must destroy it at once. She went to the box in which she had put it away, and took it out. She read, “* The last will and testament of Sr Jasper Brandon, Baron of Hurstwood, &.” She kissed the name; and ‘her tears fell on it. How could she destroy it? Curiously, instead of being. written on paper, jt..was written on thick parchment — she could neither tear nor cut. On this J une day there was no fire sr fab She could not go down to the servants’ offices to. burn it —— for she would be ape and harm might come of i The only way was “to have a fire made in her sitting- | | room, and burn it there. . ‘The bell was: answered Clara Morton, a pretty girl whom Sir Jasper had advised her to: take as hér maid. She carefully placed the will out of sight, and. then when the maid entered, she asked her to light a fire in her room. “A fire,” repeated’ Clara ‘Morton—< a fire here, miss?” tin Yes, m2) ‘said Veronica: -' ifs Bat,” objected. the girl,“ it is'so warm—it. is Guite a hot day, miss. (Iam afraid the heat wilt be too mange for you.” \“There is no warmth here,” hia Mettantaas nt ihn the maid, seding the shudder that made her young mistress’ graceful figure emblo, thought perhaps: she was really colds jroo ov 5 vv Still it wasa: strange: thingirti ask ‘for ona June day; danbmtie ‘than once,/as:Clara, Morton «lighted. the fire, she Said to herself that it:wasi unnatural, dnd ‘that saa must be some reason for it. 'Still she obeyed." But the fire would not light. “Three | § ov four tintes Ag went pee and -_ time : Veronica had} to ior | loon che: ‘is (om hd: » anid the girl to herself; & What ean'she' wantia fite for? ‘There is something mys- tetious abont iti” mm oAit dastrthe: fire! burned brightly; and then Veronica fas- tened the door and took out the will again. She held.it.im her hands, looking first at the: pentane roll and: theu at the flames.ont'! so. It seemed to her as though she held: poeihinng oe eo Wealth, honory fortune, position, the honor of-a noble unamhe+these would all perish) with the document when she laid it on the flames. .« Should eye of it? Was it not like taking ihe lite of some living th ing? .# [will do ity’ she said; ‘ not: by halves, but ar rigs I make this sacrifice, and Heaven sees me. I make «it miy sister’s happiness, and to save my father’s mém- ‘ory.’ I make it with all my heart in return for: their love for me, and I shall never irhi 9 Then she pared the coals. and: placed the parchment: -be- tween them: » Ima few moments rr hee was. a thick smoke, and, seeing no more of the parchment, she thought it was ‘destroyed. She watched the thick smoke ds’ it rosé; what did it bear with it of hers? - There was some one at the Geers tivnd could.it be? ‘cried: out, *“ Who is it?” And Clara Morton answered: ““T want you ‘very Serticaloniy, if you please, Miss di Cyntha.” She Veronica opened. the door, and the girl looked wonder- ingly into her sae face. « **T have brought you a ¢ ‘of tea, miss,” she said; <‘I thought y ‘ou wanted something.” Her quick eyes noted ‘the hea vanike? in the fire int she withdrew: without a oword.-" In. a few minutes was back ~ * Miss di Cyntha,” she cried, ‘‘I wish you would come to my lady’s room; I have knocked at the door several times and can get no answer. Iam afraid there is something wrong.” And Veronica hastened awa ayy ne mal a poring that she had left the ane in the room behin CHAPTER VIII. «“ Wat could you mean, Clara?” said Veronica, when, some ten minutes afterwards, she returned to her room. ** Lady Brandon was not even asleep, and she says that you have never even touched the door.” “Is itvall right, miss?” asked ae girl, as though she were in a state of breathless “Right? Yes. Lady Bran said Veronica. Clara answered that her ladyship must have been asleep, but did not like to say so. Veronica noticed that the girl’s face was flushed, her man- n ee even heard you,” ner ; but she did not think much of it at the time. ‘Pre y Clara quitted the room, after in yee a great deal more about the fright and relati ote of a lady. who she knew who had been found dead of. grief soon after her husband’s death. Then “Veronica wondered. just a little that she should — somuch. As a rule the girl was respectful and do- eHe: Left alone again, Veronica would not think of what she had done; that was.all forgotten—all past. a was Veronica di Cyntha—had never been not » She dookeli into the smouldering fire—the last ¥ of the parchment had disappearéd.. The papers she had kept; they could not hurt, and she felt that she would.like Bian at them from time to time: She:went!back to Lady: don’s room, and clasped her arms round:hers:) 4 ‘<T have burned it,” she said—‘“‘ it is all destro mere ‘and sone come to mention it forthe: last: time—to ‘tell you th may trust me as youwould yourself.” don fell weeping on ‘to Sher neck; ‘telling her that i be was blessed, thrice blessed, for that she had, rer} herself and her child from what was far worse than the bit- terness of death. r 10° *‘ You may entrust your future to me, ‘Neronica,” said Lady Brandon. ‘I have two thousand a year of mye own, and Iwill settle the half of it om you.” . ‘So the: matteriwas never mentionéd again by v encupite or her father’s .widow:.:'Thé next day they buried him, and his knew himnomore( |: 2 negara Jeartdl ing him, while the mantle of his gredtness praisi fell upon Lord yale, A year had passed sinée the death of Sir Jasper. / Brandon had spent it at Queen’s Chace. » Some had. wd to| vised her to go away, to take her daughter: st. ys but the Chace seemed to have ‘an attraction for her. A When the year that she had iven to scclnsion ‘eid their first visitor was Lord Wynleigh. | They were deli to see him; it was such a bright,’ cheerful change. - Lord Wynleigh was growing anxious now abont the time of his probation.» He made Veronica his “* T.know that I cam trust you,” he-saidy:‘ iiaaenen ot love Kate so dearly. L have worked hard this:last year and a half. I have made a position. . 1 have laid ‘the founda- tion of future fame and fortune. I grant that I have made no money; but that does not matter—Kate and I under- stand each other so well. She knows that if-she had not one shilling in the world I should love her just the same— more, if ible; but we should have to wait for years. As it is, Poe nob seo vwiy ‘we should not, .be cmannedr-at Onieteans Do you, Veronica?” How she thanked Heaven in her heart. that she had done as she had—that she had sacrificed herself! If she had kept her inheritance, then Katherine could not have been married. mee * oe * Tho eat } Lord Wynleigh wondered at the light that came into the girl’s beautiful face. How little Veronica . ab »
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18 A\ GILDED SIN. that moment of all that would come to pass before Christ- mas-time ! There had not been the least difficulty in the settlement of Sir Jasper’s affairs; .the.will that he had made when Katherine Brandon was an infant was still in the hands of was perfectly straightfor- Lady Brandon explained that she understood Miss) di Cyntha’s ie mig Mn should pan rane as = guardian. °§ loyally er W and' had sett one thousand a year w = Versation She showed her gratitude to her m a hun other ways; she‘was most kmd to her; but tne one subject was never mentioned between again. Sir Jasper’s fair-haired daughter had become Baroness of Hurstwood; she was: called Katherine at home, and the b days passed with naught save pleasant hours. One koantifel August evening, when the red glow of the the family solicitor—e ward She did not know until then all that slept in her heart tenderness—and the waking a chivalous wooing, and he loved her so dearly. No one could ever have been so ore. there thinking of it, with a smile of perfect Sinantice as dbase Ee Marc came Al bi = es A é g if Ss i : ha at g . |had come down to her word that he went at once in search of Lady Bras” don and told her. ‘ He brought her back with him to where Veronica still stood under the limes. so di i ‘‘Tleaye my interests in your hands, Lady Brandon,” he said. ‘‘I shall return, with your permission, to marry Veronica on the twentieth of September. You will promise that she shall be ready?” 2 Brandon : promised... “<1 do not think that 1 can live away trom her altogether until then, Lady Brandon. Will you invite me to come down in August ?” ods val **Oome whenever you will, Sir. Mare,” said, Lady He pressed the hand of his love. “TI have bound you, sweetheart,” he said—‘you can never free yourself again.” ; , And looking at his handsome face, his.eyes lit with love, she said to herself that separation from him would be death. CHAPTER IX. ren Aveust had come with its ripe, rich beauty; the fruit hung in the orehards, the gardens were a blaze of color, the barley and the corn were ready for the reapers. Sir Mare in to the Chace. Those who seen Veronica when she first reached 6p nie ge 9 Ine en eal er ve & Panera e seen now, , The beautiful face had changed so completely ; the ionate loveliness had — jmiten aneneaie pele, more ly still; there color, ; fvely sil; there was more color more brightness: the dark Veronica,” he said, ‘“ until | content. sek | emda itaae'd tat tit ag would Lady Brandon had determined to present her with and a large chest had arrived that morning from magnificent gift. It did not at another time. iness and her love. . She was smiling to iveeione hon “ Not yet,” she replied shyly—‘‘ it cannot be yet.” ever so blessed, so happy, when some one rapped gently «Yok have oflly jost found out that mee nee looked surprise when her maid, Clara Morton, z ve only ou e me. in when Clara <0 STR was % it to to Sir Jasper had just died. é ae wand Berne a es areal gpa rere ag She turned her face away lest he should see the quiver of} Veronica made some courteous answer, and felt even ** Lady Brandon has ” he replied. . Your]. Becanse Ihave that to to ich must i father was great friend ene without inte Sapeatale meter —_ eronica made no could not im the} Veronica looked with hangh displeasure. truth, but she would no false word to him—never «Yom behave vers Musngel : the said; ‘‘I do not like a atin ned: it” She looked fixedly at girl, whose face was not ay ast wow iostate, see Lam it to see—there was a livid light in her eyes, an air = man—éo rich that I am troubled at times to know | of cringing, yet of défiance in her whole manner. to spend my money. tn eed ren | You} ‘You must listen to me, Miss di Cyntha,” she said. “*I Jou come tome, mi Veronica? Yo have nothing to walt| "You can hate ne soot of ming wetted } 1¢ca ae b ie Do not be i and send me away.” «Bat 1 hate,” mid the pick, Listen een om “This is July,” he said ; “shall we say September, Ver- agreed, and Sir Mare was so determined to keep her wanda ont anaeiates and
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A GILDED SIN. 19 ~ bankrupt. Fortune has never once smiled on us until now. Now John Palding has an offer from a farmer in Australia. If he ean go out there, and take five hundred pounds with him, we s make our fortune.” **I do not see what this has to do with me,” interposed Veronica. “Ido, Miss di Cyntha. I hold a séeret of yours, and I want five hundred pounds as the price of my silence.” ** You are talking nonsense, Morton. I can only imagine that you have lost yo 8.2 ** You will find, on the contrary, Miss di Cyntha, that I was never more sensible in my life. Let me tell you what I have to say.” Veronica looked at her. In the excitement of the inter- view she had risen and confronted her. “Come to the point at once, please,” said) Verenca “ What have you to say?” The girl looked uneasily at her mistress; the color came and went-in her face; her eyes drooped. Raising her head, she said suddenly: **It is for John’s sake—I would do anything for John.” Veronica gave a sigh of resignation. What this strange scene meant she could not tell, but it would end at some time no do , Morton heard the sigh. ** You are impatient, miss,” she said. . “I am coming to not like to speak of it to you; you have been a kind mistress to-me. But it is for John’s sake— ing for him.” ind enough: just to come to the point?” said Veronica. _ Twill,” answered Clara Morton. Yet Veronica saw that she had to summon all her cour- to make a most desperate effort. She looked up at “You remember Sir Jasper’s death, Miss di Cyntha?| i You remember the day after it? Though it was a warm June day, you would have a fire in your room?” Veronica from her hi there was June sun was shining so warmly? I said to myself that had to burn. - Another low tinned: : saw you put it it Nexia to burn, and I was wild to know what itwas. All at once I had an idea that you were destroying something that be- a r, and was determined to know.” feeneed,-wbile the Benstiful face gazing’ ints! hers ga emg the room, Miss di “I told, you that Lady Brandon —I took it away with me; and now, Miss di accuse you of having burned Sir Jasper’s will. not deny it—I have the proofs.” Veronica stood like one turned to stone. She lost all power of . The girl continued : . “IT can form no idea why you did it—that does not con- cern me— it was for your own interest. They said in the servants’ hall that Sir wn had left you money; the will you destroyed took it from you.” There was a flash as of fire from the dark eyes. ou can- started; her face grew white, a low cry came gil you want a fire when the ee cry came from Veronica. Morton con- “T do not wish 'to do you any harm, miss. Ihave not mentioned what I saw to any one, and I never will; but you must give me five hundred pounds for keeping ‘your secret. Give me that, and I will promise, I will. swear; that no allusion to what I have seen shall ever pass my lips.» Giveme that and I will bring the charred. fragment to you. . donot wish to harm you, but Providence has given me this chance and I must make: the most of it. that one moment I said to myself that I would: keep. your secret until-I could use it, Give me five h pounds, and I will be as faithful as death to you.” a deh 4 Then the power of speech came to Veronica: =» |, ‘« Even if I would condescend to bribe-you,” she said; ‘‘T could not; I have not five hundred pounds of myown in the world. ”? tT a ** You have a rich lover,” returned the girl «with a Significant smile. ‘‘Sir Mare would give you anything in the world—his heart’s blood if you needed it.” , ‘* Hush ” said Veronica, y. *‘Lwill not allow! you to say such words.”’ Rie Z “* You may do what you like, miss—I shall . to-my word, If you give me five hundred pounds, 1 never reveal your secret; if not, I will betray it.” ©) 0) ) ff t if 1. refuse?” said. Veronica. Tell) me the worst.” ; In her heart she knew the worst must come; it was;as impossible for her to find five hundred pounds as it would have been to find five thousand. ‘* The worst is that, if I fail to.get.the money from, I must try to find out who is the next mosti the matter. There is one thing that you cannot deny, . sudden cry. , rh 7isds an Unperceived by either, Sir Mare had entered the nit wh om ai stood ‘with a horror-stricken reste tom Ww - “when. she saw the sudden dnent fear in the girl’s eyes. She uttered no cry when she saw her lover, but ia old, shudder seized her. He came to her and took her “‘T shall not leave the room, Sir Mare,” she replied quietly, ‘‘until I haye Miss di| Cyntha’s answer. She knows what I want; let her say if she will give it to me.” ** You know that I cannot,” she Sir Mero locked ab her dx bewiaamnedt: “sea ‘‘Surely you are not willing to com : i woman, Vewaiah Zia sonsh te: petiohen—ony attempt to extort is a crime that the law es very severely. Do not to her—leave her to me.” ou) vr Then should feel? What could it mean? ae a restless, uneasy gaze he looked from one to the other.
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20 A GILDED SIN. ' The dark eyes of the woman he loved had never met his own. . + “T heard what ;” he said. ‘‘I was bringing you these Gloire de Dijon roses, Veronica, and I heard this in- solent'woman say that you had burned a will—that you ‘could not deny it. I w the meaning of that. She this false accusation against you, meaning to extort money from you, and you very properly refuse to give it to her. She ought to be sent to prison. *« Stop, Sir Mare,” said the woman angrily—‘‘ you speak too fast Ask my mistress whether my charge against her is false or not.” ‘*I will not insult Miss di Cyntha by any such question,” he re lied. en you are unjust,” she said. ‘‘ You accuse me of bringing a false charge; ask Miss di tha whether that charge is true or false—she will not deny it if you ask her.’ Still there came no words from the white lips that were closed so strangely. ‘I refuse to do any such thing,” he returned. . “ Again, Sir Marc, I say that you areunjust. I accuse Miss di Cyntha of having i in her own ws unknown ‘to every- sone, and, as she thought, unseen by everyone, wilfully burnt Sir Jasper Brandon’s last will and testament. More than that,I can prove that she did so. Now, Sir Mare, —_ from her to me—which of us looks me ge He looked at Veronica as though h expecting an in- dignant denial. None canie. ‘ Miss di itha,” she continued, “tell Sir Mare, who that will or att. v Still there was no answer. ** Lewear to heaven that I saw her do it, and that I have -the proofs,” cried the'maid. © “ I should not speak so 4 before you, Sir Marc, but. that’ ayer nore 3 will do from you as’wellas from her.” © y Then Veronica spoke; she wont uy to him, and without looking at him, she said: Wil you send that woman away, Mare? Ishall die ‘if wsowmhaled here. Iwill speak to you when she is gone.” It struck him with a pang more bitter than death that she had never once denied the charge. - ».£9@0,” he said to Morton; ' “leave Mise-di Oyntha’s pres- ence, and never dare to seek it again. Leave this house at once. If in one hour from now you are within the walls, nothing will save you from rison. aw ** And nothing will save iss di Cyntha from penal éer- vitude,” she rejoined. The woman's persistence in. her story sntonhded him, while Veronica’s silence bewildered him. true—of course it was false; but it was evident from her si- lence that there was a m ““c Hush! ” that was unlike any he ever heard came to him in the sunlit s silence. ** not drive her to extremes. ‘Send her a “Then Sir Mare, pointing to the door, said: “Go! Leave the house; but wait for me at the railway- station at’ Hurstwood. I will see you there.” ~The woman left the room, and he took Veronica in his arms. is Sweetheart, * he said, “ what is this ‘mystery? Why did you not deny that woman’s outrageous charges? My | m Veronica burn a will! You cannot think how it has dis- tressed me.” ~He kissed the white, cold face, which looked as a vanitdenr warmth nor color could ever brighten jf again; his heart was full of keen, intolerable pain. “ There is some mystery, " Veronica,” he went on; “‘I can see that. Tell me what it is.” **T cannot,” she said! And the two simple words were more terrible to him than any others. ** At least, my darling,” he pleaded, “tell me that it is not true. I cannot endure that you should remain silent inging —e charge, whether vou destroyed , The white li had opened again, and a'voice | | under such a charge; it is unwomanly almost—deny it. ask no ex tion of the mystery; my sweetheart shall be as free and unfettered as the wind that blows. But I do ask this—deny those horrible words.” Then she looked at him, with the pallor of death on her face. She tried to speak lightly, but her lips trembled. | She tried to smile, but her smile died away. ** What if I could not deny it, Mare?” His face flamed hotly. “Great Heaven, Veronica, ” he cried, ‘‘do not jest over such a subject as this—do not jest about a crime! I could not have thought you capable of such light words.” “T am not jestin g ” she answered, faintly; ‘‘I never thought of doing so. She saw his face grow stern and his eyestake a cold, hard expression. ** Veronica,” he said, ‘‘answer me one question—it is your own fault that I "have to ask it—is that woman’s charge true? She says that she holds proofs—is it true 2 Tell me—did you burn a will or did you not ? answer me.” She knew that it would be useless to resist her faith even if she could lie—Morton would uce the charred ments as evidence.’ She—Veronica—would not attempt fo screen herself. He must think what he would. “Did you ot a will, Veronica?” he repeated, ** Answer me—TI s go mad with su Se. She raised her white face to his, ands slowly: ‘It is quite true,” she said—* I burn Sir Jasper Brandon’s last will and testament; de listen—I would deny if if I dared, but if that woman h those fatal proofs it is useless.” He drew back from her as though she had stabbed him. ‘You do not mean it, Iam. sure,” he said—* you) ¢an- not mean it—it would be'too horrible. | You aresaying itte try my love—only for that—to try my faith, my darling; you could not have done it.” Y* of} Was it so a Crime?” she asked, sdraplysos * A crime? aby mated. & Thettisteum the coubieevay ask sucha) be dead to all sense of honor and shame. A Seome? ‘should place it next to murder.” ‘I did not know ay she said softly; ‘I wever ae ag of that.” _ He looked at her i in horror. ‘Then a did: yee really and! truly didit, ‘Veronica ?? he said. + | “Yes, I did it, Mare,” she replied, sadly. «What was the reason? Why did you 78 ie What was your motive? Tell me, that I m all understand.” — **T cannot do that,” she replied, sadly. “<I can tell: mp deeds Hapa this, that L of my own: accord. burned << Great Heaven,” he: cried, “it is : incredible! Did « any- one else know?” ! gl ; bi It could not be) will.” “ Was the will you aut one ‘pipdimat'y your own in- terests? Didit take money from you, or what?” She raised her dark eyes in solemn wonder at the ques- tion. ** You must think what you will of my motives,” she re- plied—*‘I cannot explain them to you.” “Tt is incredible!” he eried. ‘1 conld-believe you and If both mad before I could believe this. Is it some foul trick, some horrible farce?” _ ‘“‘ No,” ‘she lied, ‘‘it is the simple, terrible truth. I destroyed the wi , but I did not know it was such a crime as you say. 2 And if you had known?” ‘he cried. ns “JT should have destroyed it just the same. «You swear it is true?’ he said. ‘*T swear it,” she replied. stood looking at each other, while the sunbeams fell between them and birds sang on the roses outside the window.
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¢ A GILDED SIN. rae Veronica was the first to break the terrible silence. ** Mare,” she said, *‘ you will not betray me?” “No,” he replied, slowly, “<I will not betray “you, lest the iron hand of the law should grasp Na Great Heaven, how could you have done such a deed?” o3 She looked at him with a shudder. “‘ Could I really be put into prison for it?’ she said. “Yes, if those whom you have defrauded chose to pros- ecute you;” and then he wondered, fora soft sweet light came over the white stillness of her face. “<T see,” she said, slowly—*‘ I understand.” ‘* Veronica,” he cried, ‘‘ how callous ‘you are! You seem to have no shame for thedeed that you have done.” She was asking herself what she should do—how she should make him understand; and then, witha ait; sharp, bitter pang, the thought camie to her that’ she could never make him understand—that she could never break her oath, the oath taken with her hands on her dead father’s heart. He was looking at her with wistful eyes. “You, Veronica,” he said, “whom I thought’ of all women the most perfect, will you tell-me ‘why you did this? Will you give me some explanation of the mys- tery—any key by which I may solve it? . Will you say one word that will lessen my misery?” “T cannot,” she re ted. **T am bound in chains of iron—I cannot. I tell you this one bare fact—I burned the will, You must trust me all in all, ornot at all.” “Trust you? Great Heaven, trust a woman who could burn the will of a dead man! Stay—tell me one thing. Did he wish you to destroy it? Did he ask you to do so?” “*No,” she replied, ‘he did not.” “Then do not ask me to trust you, Veronica. No man’s honor would be safe in such hands. If there is mys- tery, and you will explain it to me, good—that will do; if not, we must part.” She held out her arms to him with’ a low cry. “ Part,” she repeated—‘“ roeig ee and I?” Yes,” he answered coldly, “if it broke my heart a hundred times over. You do not suppose that I, a man of honor, could marry a woman who had deliberately destroyed the will of a dead man? I would not marry such a one even if the loss of her killed me.” **T never thought of that,” she said, clasping her hands. “T should imagine not,” replied Sir Mare. ‘‘I could never look at you without remembering what you had done. I should be wretched, miserable. We must part.” “ Part!” she repeated faintly. ‘Oh, Mare, I thought you loved me so!” Loved you? I love you even now despite what you have done; but marry you Icannot, Veronica. Your own conduct has pa us. You must not leave me, Marc,” she said, holding out her arms to him. ‘‘ You are more than my life; you must not JT could never trust you,” he ‘said, holding back her arms lest they should ¢ his neck unawares. ‘‘'There is no help for it, Veronica. Unless you ean explain away this mystery, we must part. Think it over, and give me the answer yourself.” She stood quite silent before him, her white face droop- ing from the sunshine, her hands clasped in mortal pain: Was there | chance, any loop-hole of escape? Could anything absolye her from her solemn vow? No, there could be no release. “ It was for Katherine’s sake, for her father’s memory—the same urgent reasons that had in- " fluenced her before existed now. Were she to be induced to break her vow, Katherine would suffer tenfold. She would keep it. ““Must we part, Veronica,” he said—‘* we, who have loved each other with so great a love, must we part?” “* Unless you can trust me, and let me keep silence,” she “*T cannot trust you; I can only say good-bye. Good- bye, Veronica. You have broken the heart of the man who has loved you as few have ever loved. Farewell!” He did not touch her hand, or kiss her face, or stop to utter one more word. Perhaps, if he had done so, ‘his stren would have failed him. . He left her standing there in the sunshine, with the bitterness of death hanging over her. ata He went at once in search of Lady Brandon. He found her in the pretty morning-room, ‘alone. * She cried out. when she saw his pele, set face, ny ‘¢What is the matter, Sir Marc? What is wrong?” “T want to speak to you, Lady Brandon,” he said. “Veronica and I have had some unpleasant words, We have had a quarrel that can neyer be healed, and we have parted forever.” Seika Lady Brandon held up her hands in dismay. “Can it be possible, Sir Marc, that you have parted with Veronica? Why, she will break her heart! It must not be. Let me go to her—let me talk to her, If she has offended you, she will, I am sure, be very borty let me go to her. I know how she loves you, my fot eronica.” ““Tt_is quite impossible,” he said, hurriedly. <‘ This: quarrel can never be healed; even if Veronica wished it, I could not.” “You are angry, Sir Marc,” asserted Lady Brandon; “and when your anger subsides you will be sorry for this.” “T shall sy it all my life,” he said; “‘no one knows that better than I do. ére will never dawn another happy day for me. Lady Brandon, I am a lost, ruined man. ‘You will think better of it,” she told him. ‘How could you quarrel with Veronica? I know no one like her; she is so good, so tender of heart, so true, so loyal.” “ No more!” he cried, shuddering. ‘I can hear no more!” «You must hear me,” Lady Brandon persisted: ‘‘ I can- not have Veronica sacrificed to a mere fit of temper.” **Tt is worse than that,” he declared. ‘* Have you thought what the world will say, Sir Mare Her wedding-dress is ordered—her trousseaw is Lag vg Everything is being put into a state of readiness for the wedding. What am I to say?” : ‘There is nothing to say,” he replied gloomily, ‘except that Veronica has dismissed me. I will take'all the blame, all the shame, all the shapes But, Lady Brandon, there is one thing that I should like to ask you. Do not talk to her about our disagreement. Do not ask her any questions. That which we have quarreled about lies between us a dead secret. Promise me that you will not ask her any questions; it will only distress her and do no P ai 21 ‘* But, Sir Marc, will you not trust me, tell mesame- thing at least.” “No,” he replied. ‘You have been very kind to me, Lady Brandon—let me say good-bye to you, and thank you heartily for all your goodness to me.” “You will surely stay and see Katherine?’ cried Lady Brandon. . oy tl ie “No. Tell her that I had not the to stay and see her, but that I hoped she would be kind to: Veronica.” Then Lady Brandon breke down and wept passionate “You will break Veronica’s heart,” she eried—*‘ you should not leave her.” tor t C HaOIO? “« Heaven bless you for a kind-hearted, generous woman!” he said, bending down to kiss -her hand. “‘L wish all women were like you. I shall goatonee. You will see that: all belonging to me is sent after me, Lady Brandon?” But she only sobbed that he should not leave Veronica. “‘Go to her,” he said; “and, Lady Brandon, while you comfort her, do not speak to her of me.” The next moment he was gone. r She was almost bewildered to know how to act. # ‘‘I would give much to know what the quarrel has been about,” she said to herself; ‘‘but I suppose I shall never learn.” And then she went to Veronica’s room. The unhappy girl had fallen where her lover had left her, and lay like one on the floor.
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22 A GILDED SIN. Lady Brandon raised her; she tried to bring back -con-}ment of her wickedness ever came in this world he neyer sciousness to her; and then she thought to herself, ‘‘If she| knew zoey; lores tring so well, and they have parted for ever, it be more merciful to let her die.” CHAPTER X. CRUSHING the green leaves and the sweet blossoms under his feet, trampling down the smiling flowers, beating aside the trailing sprays, his heart beating, his brain on fire, Sir Mare hastened across the park. It seemed to him that the whole world had suddenly crumbled to ruins. He muttered bitter, terrible words to himself. If the stars had fallen from heaven it would have sur- prised him less than the fact that Veronica had done wrong —his ideal, the one pure, noble, gentle soul in whom he had placed all his trust. that was beautiful, poetical, maidenly, and charming seemed to be vested in her; and now his ideal had been rudely destroyed. “I will never belieye in any human being again while I live,” he said to himself—‘‘ never! So fair, so beautiful, so loving, so Baym yet so lost to all sense of what i is right! I will never look again at woman’s face!” He reached the railway station at. Hurstwood, and there, half hidden by a long black veil, he saw Clara Morton. Sher rose as he came up.to her: ‘Tt is well,” he said; “that..yow are a woman; if you were a'man.I would pag chip you!” There was such fierce, hot anger in his she shrank back... ‘* You need not fear,” he ad ed scornfully. ‘‘Give me your proofs, name your, price, and then ‘never let your shadow fall across .my nae path AEA Dealing with a man,was different from frightening a deli- date, refined girl ‘Clara Morton found. She began a. viele ee word, * he said, Let me hear all the details, and. then | “She tol told him the st the quel and then added: Had Simply repeat: the. story. he wait have. tossed, the little give MEPTOE, tht Past Then Sir Mare went away to London. What.to do with himself he could not tell. . He felt that it was impossible for him to take up the broken thread of his life. In the first hot, angry ush of his disappointment he had not » | realized what life without Veronica would be. Now that it stretched out before him in all its chill, terrible reality, he was ata loss how to endure. There were times even when he almost wished that he had forgiven her. Then he recoiled from the thought. How could he love a woman to whom the word ‘‘ honor” was an empty sound? Sir Mare was most unhappy. He read with a stony face all the paragraphs which said that there was no foundation for the rumor, of. the approaching marriage of Sir Mare Caryll—that he was going abroad e made no complaint, no moan; but he owned to him- self that his life was ended. He would close Wervehurst Manor, and spend the re- mainder of his. days. where nothing could remind him of pee dore he lost. _ There was to be no angel in the house for He knew that he must love Veronica until he died—that no one else could ever take her pscernithat no one else could ever. be to him what she had a Had she aes it seemed to him that his grief would haye been easier to bear. Then. he, would have retained all his love; now his love must. go, while he was stranded, . Life had. lost all its at- traction for him. .. He had freed Veronica from her bondage—of that he was pleased to think. ., No one could:frighten her now. . She was quite safe, and the terrible secret was dead and. buried. He locked away the charred frogmients he did not de- stroy them—he eould never tell and that one simple proceeding altered the whole destiny et his life. .. there, been a fire in ae room when he reached home, into the flames;, m5 ip ‘ door of his iron safe. al OPED, and he flung th et, into it,. Then he set about making arran gements for going ‘My proofs are the charred remains of, ‘the ‘parchment abroad; but he found that it would yk oe vlesrsnae he that took fa ‘the fixe, on which you will see plainly|conld, not leave England until after, Christmas wi these words, ‘ Last will and testament of Sir Jasper Bran- negleoting duties that his. conscience would not allow ata jn What do you want for.it?” he asked, contemptuously. oe said to himself that he must be content. ‘There was “Tt is hotfor nas Sir Mare—it is not five hundred poun lf. 1:4 “You are modest in t and demands, certainly, and you | Veroniea’s sweet face w Pedf I on th - ou give you the sum’ you name, y surrender re are sleskal to call pitta poets vou mast take an to keep Sen eotraticeed eeor tea: n return address by letter or less lady, I will have you sentence will roan BA is so utterly, horribly base I have not a ey it.” : hy should 1 waste words upon such word of that hap- for woman murmuted some words. He did’ not even from all mercenary listen to them. “f Ehavd no wish to hee peer a he: dads! deen —— he nd tof They never met: po app apse pany, apa hi life. indeed.: « Iwant no help for it. must ver would live “a 1 =. aioe If ae return—listen to my threat—if =o dare to forget Ve iracy, and your| by it. ly be hard labor for life. As‘ to your legacy or in the old Manor House where d never shine. vine once he was over. oe ho Anything would be better than pr by ig a oa by da — despite all his stern resolves to ca—he was asking himself why she had burned the the wilowhes ts be ive was—What she had Was it possible that the will took from her some He must shut Binet Time would ‘f never thought that she even cared for money,” he said. to, himself over.and over again, ‘‘She seemed so free taint. Why did she destroy the will?” ee he was mele eral that be had been esr hed, even an inkling at last. , Two ‘as before Christmas ‘all, rstas Day al his arrangements
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A GILDED SIN. : 23 He bethought himself then that it would only be right to destroy the charred fragments of the will, for if the fell into other hands there would be danger; and one wil day in December, when the wind was wailing and roaring round the house, he went to the safe and. took from it the little parcel. The snow was beating furiously against the window, great masses of cloud darkened the heavy skies; then came a lull in the storm. Never until the day he dies will Sir Mare forget the hour and the scene. _ 3HI9SVBYY With some curiosity he went to the window to examine the charred ents; quite distinctly he saw the words— «The last will and testament of Sir Jasper Brandon.” “Poor child!” he murmurred to himself. ‘‘ Whatcould have promehes her to-do this most evil deed?” A little robin-redbreast fell with fluttering wings on the window sill, beaten down by the show and the wind; it lay there fluttering, ing, with its little life almost gone. He was tender-of heart, this man so stern “in morals; he could not endure the sight of the little bird’s agony. He dropped the parchment and opened the window. He tok ai the little helpless creature, he warmed it and fed it, and then bethought himself of the will. He hastened to pick it up; it had opened as it fell, and as he raised it’ he saw words that he had not seen before. He took it to the window, and as he examined it his face are white; great dark shadows came into his eyes, and he cried: “Great Heaven! How is it that I have never even thought of this before?” - ona CHAPTER XI. Great had been the consternation at Queen’s Chace when Lady Brandon, in few curt words, said that Miss di Cyntha’s wedding .was: postponed indefinitely. The worst of it was there came no solution tothe mys- tery—whether there had been a quarrel or not no one could say. an that was known was that Sir Marc had left quite.sud- denly one-day, and that two or three days afterwards those intend had been told to cease all preparations for the bein 4 “Yes,” she* said, drearily, ‘‘we have Katherine —not for an hour, a day, or a year, but forever.” “*T will not believe’ it! t has come between you who loved each other so well?” ; - I cannot tell you,” replied Veronica, with a long, low sigh. 7 You must tell me,” declared Katherine. ‘‘I want to help you. Icould not live and know that you were un- happy Veronica. I must follow Sir Mare and bring him “T cannot tell you anything about it Katherine,” said Veronica. - ‘‘ And yet I may tell Fe this. e asked me to do something for him, and I refused; he placed the alternative of parting before me, and I took it. You will ask me nothing more?” ¥ ** No,” she replied, musingly—* that is, unless you liké to trust me more fully.” : : “YT cannot,” said Veronica with a shudder; ‘he has gone, and we shall not meet again in this world; yet I was worthy of his love. To me it seems that I have stood by him dead ard kissed him for the last time.” Her voice had in it a ring of weary despondency, her-eyes were fixed with a strange dazed expression, her hands were folded and lay on her knees. She looked up at Katherine, ‘Kate, give me one promise,” she said, ‘*‘ just one. Tell me that you will nevér renew this ‘subject. To renew it will be simply to give ‘me bitter pain. Promise me that you will never do so.” Her face had such an imploring look that the young heiress could not resist. = oe **I do promise,” she said; and then for one minute the dreary calmness of the beautiful face was broken. wba vu) **Go.on,” requested Veronica. «Tam rich,” said the young girl, “and=I am like a I love my grand, benntiful in- Then Veronica raised her head, and a faint smile came over her white troubled face. 1 even pea Eom. dearly I love the Chace.”, - «Now tell me about your love,” said Veronica. — forted you?” - chee “ Yo more than anything you could. have said... You “| could have thought of nothing that would comfort ‘tie one halfso much. You will leave me now, Kate—I am the better foryour coming, dear—and when me meet again all ‘will bé ait that we love each other.” ; forgotten, oe ee es were Tehad not beenall in vain then; the sun of her life had \ ess woe. | set in darkness and gloom, ut she, hed rae “ Veronica,” criéd_the girl, “it is true then! “Trcan see] happy. She tried to fdeotthat it is true; there is no need to ask aj bear So the past was mentioned no more. © dt r lifes She never complained. She was like.a @é- voted daughter to Lady Brandon. She was the most loving
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